Before I Sleep

Chapter 21

Reid was true to his word. As he'd told Garcia, he did think better on his feet, and especially when those feet were moving. That's what he told himself, when he found those feet carrying him toward the coffee shop on Sunday afternoon.

It's what I usually do, isn't it? So why should this Sunday be any different?

Except that it was. Because, this Sunday, he was meeting someone. He never had called Stephanie to cancel their 'meeting'. Even to himself, Reid had difficulty calling it a 'date'.

Maybe she'll have forgotten. She's pretty busy. Maybe she won't have time. Maybe she was called out for an 'emergency concert'.

He was anxious in a way that he hadn't been when they'd first met. That had been unexpected, and without any perceived cost. Now, he was feeling a self-imposed pressure to be socially competent and interesting, two areas in which he'd never quite accomplished an advanced degree.

The fact that they were meeting in person contributed greatly to his lack of confidence. It marked a sharp contrast to his relationship with Maeve. That one had crept up on both of them, caught them off guard, when they were busy trying to solve the problem of his headaches. Falling in love had been a surprising and yet, completely natural, phenomenon. That it happened while they were otherwise occupied, and that it happened on the phone, had made it a far less intimidating process than Reid had once thought love might be. But he was meeting with Stephanie, in person, for the sole purpose of meeting with her.

But not for love, he reasoned. Why would you even think that? You've already had the love of your life. Don't be greedy.

To dampen the rapidity of his heart rate, Reid devised a plan to use his meeting with Stephanie to further the work Kate was doing on the case.

I can ask her about her tutoring, he thought. I can ask about the kids, maybe find out about some of the kids who've dropped out. Yes, that's it. I can use our getting coffee together to advance the case. It's not a date. It's just my job.

The sun was glaring off the window of the coffee shop, making it difficult for Reid to do surveillance from the outside. He had no choice but to enter. Upon doing so, he made a quick scan of the patrons in the small café. There were several he recognized as Sunday afternoon regulars, and a few who were new to him. But no Stephanie.

He got in the coffee line without having to read the menu. It was always coffee, black, doctored by himself to his satisfaction. But he did have something else to consider.

Should I just get it and leave, like usual? Or should I take a table, and wait?

He had his trusty messenger bag with him, carrying three books….well, two if one didn't count 'The Narrative of John Smith….. so he could kill a couple of hours if he needed to. That was enough for him to make the decision to find a table after he'd gotten his mug of caffeine.

He'd just finished amending his coffee and pulled all three books from his bag, preparing to choose one, when a shadow fell across the table. He looked up to see the newly familiar face.

"Hi, Spencer. Sorry I'm late. I got caught up in a new passage and didn't realize the time."

He smiled his hello. "Passage?"

"For my concerto."

His brows went up. "You didn't mention that you write music as well." Pleased to be learning that there were many layers to Stephanie Rowe.

She made little of it. "I don't, really. Well, I guess I've dabbled a bit over the years. It's just that I haven't found a piece that I thought would really reach the kids I teach, you know? Something they could really relate to."

"You don't think the classics are good for that?" They are, after all, 'classics'.

She laid her purse on the chair across from Reid and unwound a light scarf from her neck. "Let me get my latte and I'll come back and explain."

He watched her as she went over to the counter and marveled as she seemed to strike up a conversation with several of the people waiting in line with her. Small talk was another thing he'd never mastered, nor the art of breaking the ice with a stranger unless he was in the process of rescuing them.

Reid ruminated on how different they were, and how different her personality seemed from Maeve's. And then, just as suddenly as that, he had to put a hand to his chest to quell the pain that rose over it. If guilt could be translated as a physical sensation, it would feel just like that. The very fact of comparing Stephanie with his lost Maeve felt like a betrayal of something in his life, something that had been so pure, so real, so unique. He felt a shield fall into place. His heart was too fragile to risk it being penetrated again.

By the time Stephanie returned to the table, Reid had donned his professional persona. He greeted her with his professional smile.

"All set?"

"Yes, thanks for waiting. So, you were asking about the concerto…"

"Yes, I didn't know that you were also a composer."

"So…..really, I'm not. As I was starting to tell you, I think the kids need something they can relate to a little more than the classics. Although there have been a couple of kids who've fallen in love with them…" she mused. "But most of the kids aren't ready for them yet. I have to capture them with something that's more in tune…. pun intended…" She smiled, and Reid gave a small, appropriate chuckle. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Anyway, I feel like I need to reel them in with something that resounds with them, something culturally and age-appropriate. So I've been tinkering with something for a while now."

"Just for the cello?"

Stephanie hugged her coffee as she spoke. "No, I've included all the instuments we teach at the schools….. cello, of course, and violin, and flute and viola and bass, and piano. Oh, and some percussion. We don't have a teacher for it yet, but I'm one hundred percent sure there are some kids dying to get at the drums."

Reid grinned. "If you ever need an audience, count me in."

Stephanie took him seriously. "Actually….didn't you say you profile people for the FBI? I could really use your opinion on how the kids are reacting to it. To all of it, really….the music, the instruments…..not just my music in particular."

Reid was intrigued. "Are you worried about whether you're getting through to them?"

It was the first time he'd seen her look downcast.

"I'm not worried about it, technically. I know I've lost some kids. There have been a few who told me they couldn't fit it into their schedules any more…but there have been others who've just disappeared….like Gary."

He couldn't help it. Reid flashed on a vision of Gary with a bomb strapped to his abdomen, prepared to sacrifice himself if it meant a better life for his family. He literally had to shiver the image away, and then try to assure Stephanie, even as he assured himself.

"I told you, he has to work to help his family. He's not lost, he's just overcommitted."

Stephanie bent over the table, speaking in earnest. "I hope you're right, Spencer. He's a great kid… they all are, really….losing any one of them would be a tragedy."

Not to mention all the other people who might be lost right along with them, if they've become prey to a terrorist network. But he wasn't free to utter the thought aloud.

"So, what are you doing with the concerto?"

She was clearly enthused to speak about it. "Well, considering the heritage of most of the kids in my program, I'm going for something that's a little different. Something with Afro-Caribbean roots."

"A reggae concerto?" Thinking he was making a joke.

But she took him seriously. "Exactly! Except it isn't really a concerto. Not technically…although it does give each of the instruments their chance in the spotlight. It's more of an opus, I guess." She smiled to herself for a moment before explaining. "My dad says I should call it 'Miss Stephanie's Opus'."

She waited in vain for him to smile at the cultural reference. When it was clear he didn't understand, she spelled it out for him.

"You know….like 'Mr. Holland's Opus'? That film with Richard Dreyfuss, and he's a composer who gives up his dream to teach music? The one where his son is deaf?"

Reid could only shake his head. "I must have missed that one. When was it out?"

"Oh, back when we were kids….like '95, I guess? But it's rerun on TV all the time."

Reid calculated. "Ninety-five…. I was in my last year of college then. No time for movies."

"College...? Spencer, if you don't mind my asking….how old are you?" Thinking his appearance must be deceptively youthful. And wondering what else on his 'datemybestfrienddotcom' profile had been false.

"I don't mind. I'll be thirty three next month." Not bothering to ask why she wanted to know.

He could see her making the mental calculations. "Your third year of college? But…. that would mean you entered at eleven!"

"Twelve, actually. Almost thirteen. But I had a bunch of AP credits and was able to carry a few additional courses every semester, for each major. It got me through college in two and a half years."

Stephanie stared at him, trying to take it in. This guy must be a genius. And he's ridiculously good looking. How is it he's still on the market?

Then she remembered why she was 'on the market'. Maybe it's not 'still'. Maybe it's 'back'. Maybe he's lost somebody too.

Knowing very well how hard it was to talk about her own loss, she wouldn't ask him. Not yet. But she did have some other questions.

"Did you say 'each major'? As in multiple, at the same time?"

He read her reaction, and was embarrassed. Not that being brilliant enough to accomplish what he had academically wasn't a really good thing. But, sometimes…..like when he was having coffee with an interesting woman…. he just wanted to be normal. But, he'd started the conversation in this direction, so he would have to finish it out. Reid explained about his multiple bachelors and masters degrees.

"Wait-you've got bachelors in four majors, plus an additional three doctorates?"

He gave her his shy smile. "Guilty. But I only got three of the bachelors before I moved on to the PhDs. I got my BA in philosophy just a couple of years ago, and I'm working on anthropology now."

"You're still in school? And working full time?"

"Better than full time, with my job. But there's really no pressure. I can finish the degree whenever I want. There are quite a few good on-line programs now."

Stephanie had been leaning in to him the whole time, intrigued with what he'd been telling her. Now she sank back against the support of her seat.

"Wow. Just..wow. I used to think I was smart, but…..wow."

He was stricken to think he'd made her feel bad about herself. "No…no, don't say that. You are smart. And you're doing something wonderful with your life. Something important."

She blushed, just a little bit. Reid couldn't remember ever having made a woman blush before. If he'd done it to Maeve, he certainly hadn't been able to see it.

"Thanks. I hope you're right." She fixed her gaze out the window as she tried to find the right way to express herself. "It's just that….well, I love music. I ….it's simple and yet intricate, it's expressive, it's emotional, it's…..well, it's just all I've ever wanted to do."

Reid could see the depth of her feeling in her facial expression. "Good for you. You get to live your dream."

She smiled even as she was shaking her head. "But that's just it. It's good for me. I'm doing what I want. But is that really all that matters? Aren't we supposed to be about helping other people? That's why the tutoring is so important to me. That's something that matters."

Reid squinted at her in puzzlement. "Do you really believe that music doesn't matter?"

"Well…it's not like your job. Your work sounds incredibly important, Spencer. I mean…with the FBI?"

Reid leaned his elbows on the table, drawing her in. "My work….. sometimes I get to help people…and sometimes I don't. Sometimes it doesn't work out."

It didn't take a profiler to notice how his voice dropped at the end of the last sentence. Stephanie's suspicion of Reid's having experience with loss grew.

"But..," Reid went on, "there was a time when it was music that helped us solve the case. It helped me communicate with a young boy who had no other way to express himself, and it helped us find his mother." And his dead father.

"Really?"

"Really. In fact, it was what got me started on the keyboard."

"You play?" She was enthused.

He made little of it. "I dabble. But playing is really all just math, and…."

She said it at the same time as he. "….muscle memory." They both laughed, and she continued, "So, that's all there is to it, huh?" It sounded like she was teasing him.

"Well…..no. That's mostly all it takes to pluck out the notes correctly. But to make it really music, to make it art…..that requires emotion. That's where talent comes in. Anybody can learn to put together a series of notes. But only an artist can use them to translate emotion into sound….into something physical."

She had a dreamy look to her. "Sometimes, I think that's why music was created. For us to express the inexpressible."

He stared at her, considering what she'd said, drawn to how she'd said it. He agreed with her. "Not everything can be articulated in words."

"Exactly."

"So, Miss Stephanie," shocked, even as it was happening, to hear himself address her in a teasing way, "maybe your job is important after all, wouldn't you say? Not that I don't think what you do with the kids is amazing, and vital, and I would never want you to stop doing it, but…. isn't it just as important to create the beauty that you do with your instrument?"

A look of delight bloomed on her face. "I guess I'd never quite thought about whether I was helping someone just by playing with the orchestra. But…. you're right. Music does do that for us. It puts us in touch with our physical selves and our emotional selves at the same time. Our spiritual selves, too."

It would have been perfectly natural for him to use that entry to ask about her spiritual life, her belief system, or whether she even had one. It would have been an expected part of the 'getting to know you' process. But there was still too much of the old Spencer Reid in him, and it felt like it might be intrusive. Uncertain what else to do, he combed his brain for another subject. But he took too long, and Stephanie seemed to take his prolonged silence as disinterest.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to monopolize the conversation. I'm not usually like that, I promise. I don't usually talk so much about what I do for a living."

Nice move, Spencer. Or lack thereof, he chastised himself. "No, not at all. You didn't. I asked. And it was nice to hear someone excited about her life's work."

Unlike Reid, Stephanie did know what to do with an opening. "What about you, Spencer? Are you satisfied with your life's work? Or do you have a secret dream to change the world?"

They were now on the subject matter that was always the least comfortable for Reid to talk about….himself. He shifted awkwardly in his seat to cover the desperate search for interesting material that was going on inside his brain. Finding none, he was forced to admit it.

"Me? I am, I guess. I mean, satisfied with my work. Sort of. Like I told you, sometimes we help people, but there are plenty of times when we lose them. I like to think that, whenever we are able to keep an unsub from killing anyone else…." Not saying exactly how they 'stopped' those unsubs. "…we prevent the loss of another life, or maybe even many lives, and the ruining of the lives of all the people who care about them."

"That has to be rewarding, doesn't it?"

He gave a sideways, noncommittal nod. "It is. But prevention is sort of nebulous, isn't it? Like, we don't know whose lives we've affected. And neither do they. It's a lot more rewarding when we find someone before they're killed, and are able to save them….but it doesn't happen very often."

"But still, Spencer….. that's so much more impactful than what I do. You must be very proud. And your family must be as well."

There was such a complex mesh of emotion struggling for expression on Reid's face that Stephanie thought he might be feeling ill. And then she suddenly wondered if the 'family' reference was causing his reaction. Good God, what if that's what he's lost?

"Are you all right? I'm sorry if that was the wrong thing to say."

He had trouble getting started. "No…it's all right. I'm ….fine. I'm fine. You didn't say anything wrong."

"But…..you look upset."

"I'm sorry, it's not that. I just….. I guess it's just….complicated." And I don't really know you, and I don't share easily with people I don't know. Or even with people I do know.

She backed off. "It's all right, we can talk about something else. Except…" She looked at her watch, "…..oh, it's almost four. Spencer, I'm so sorry. I have to go. We've got a performance tonight."

Considering the exchange they'd just had….or lack thereof, on his part….Reid couldn't help but wonder if she was making an excuse. If so, he wouldn't blame her.

He pushed back his chair as she stood, to be polite. "I'm sorry if I ruined our conversation."

She looked surprised. "Are you kidding? Spencer, this was so nice. You made me think about things in a very different way. I loved that!"

"Really?" Sounding as incredulous as he felt.

"Really. In fact, I'd be up for another coffee date, if you would."

"Really?" Stop saying that, Spencer!

He hesitated, the mixed feelings of a few moments ago causing him to question the wisdom and viability of this new relationship. But, before he could talk himself out of it, he found that his voice had already made a decision.

"Well…yes, I guess so. Should we try for next week? Same time and place?"

She smiled. "Same time and place. But maybe, if the weather is good, we can take our coffee to go. I'd love to take a walk through that park we met in. It seemed beautiful. I think I'd like to see more of it."

He smiled. "All right, then. If it's nice, we'll walk." On our 'date'.

She pushed in her chair and moved toward him. Before Reid had a chance to be afraid of what she would do, she did it. Leaning a hand on his arm, she tipped up and kissed his cheek.

"Have a great week, Spencer."

He could feel the blush rising past his ears. "You too. Have a great week."

As he made his way back to his apartment, Reid called on his eidetic memory to recall every word of their conversation. He tried to stifle it when it came to her statement of how his family must be proud of him, but it wouldn't be stifled. He relived his emotional confusion, and tried to unravel it.

Maybe it's because of the obvious. My mom is almost embarrassed that I work for 'those government pigs', when she remembers it at all. If my dad is proud, he's going to have to put an announcement on google, since that's how we communicate. I remember Gideon telling me he was proud of me…..right after I'd killed a man for the first time. Same with Hotch and Morgan. JJ was proud of me after we delivered that baby together. I guess I kind of was, too. And Maeve…..

The maelstrom of emotion threatened to swallow him again. Maeve. Maeve had expressed her pride in him, many times. But she'd also simultaneously refused his help, begging the question. But that wasn't what was affecting him, this time. This time, it was the fact that he'd gone through almost the entire afternoon without thinking about her. Not until Stephanie's innocent question had brought her crushing back.

He felt guilty all over again. He'd gone to the 'appointment', as he'd justified it, with the intention of using it to further their case. It was just a part of his job, he'd reasoned. He wasn't 'moving on'. He'd even felt his 'shield' falling into place.

But the shield had obviously been faulty. Somehow, he'd completely forgotten about the case, and the job…..and even Maeve. It felt, once again, like a betrayal of their relationship, even if it had already been a year and a half since that relationship had ended.

But it hasn't. Not really. It's true I can't talk to her any more. Not on the phone, anyway. But I still feel like we're in relationship. How can I let that go? How can I justify wanting to? Wouldn't that mean she was less important to me than I'd thought?

Reid had spent so much of his life as a solitary creature. For him, relationships were not things to be taken for granted. They were unexpected, and rare, and precious. He treasured all of the true relationships in his life, and had never let go of one easily. It was, in part, why he'd had to reconcile with JJ. He couldn't imagine his life without her. It was why he still loved his mother, despite the schizophrenia-induced stiltedness of that relationship. And it was why he still resented his father, and why he still couldn't resolve his feelings about Gideon.

But the relationship with Maeve, however unorthodox it had been, had been the one that had required the most of him. There was no natural coming together of the two. They didn't live together, nor see one another daily in the workplace. He'd had to go out of his way to connect with Maeve, and she with him. It had required a true commitment, one that he'd originally hesitated to make, being so unfamiliar with it. But he had made it, and it had been real. It had excited him, and made him feel full, more complete, more valued. And now he was having trouble letting it go. Or getting it to let him go.

Which was why he couldn't quite explain what had happened today with Stephanie, or why he was willing to let it happen again. It was almost like there was an unseen force pushing him. And something within that told him it was all right to let himself be pushed.