Author's note: I couldn't find a confirmed mention of Spencer's birthdate, but a lot of websites told me the 12th, so that's what I picked.
I was in the kitchen on Friday, October 12th at three in the morning. It was Spencer's birthday today, and I had the day off school, fortunately there was a teacher's workshop. I was baking a cake for Spencer, three layers of yellow cake and chocolate frosting. It was what Penelope had made me for my birthday and I knew he'd liked it since he'd eaten three pieces then.
I'd been up all last night on my iPod, checking recipes, and I'd been smuggling sugar, flour and cans of frosting into the apartment for a week. I woke up at 2:30, washed my face in the bathroom sink and padded through the hall in my socks to the kitchen. I had to mix everything by hand and time the oven with the wall clock to ensure there would be no sounds or timers to wake Spencer up.
The cake was out of the oven and cooling at 4 am, so I sat in my gray recliner in the living room to wait until I could finish the cake. One hour and three chapters of 'The Sign of Four' later, the cake was cooled, stacked and frosted. I even decorated it with green frosting like Garcia had done with my birthday cake.
Finally I started my last project. I'd always been fascinated by how easily Spencer's mind processes images and information, so I took out a little book I'd bought at the store and a highlighter, and started highlighting letters. Spencer's alarm usually went off at 7:30, so at 7 I got him a cup of coffee with extra, extra sugar, to compensate for his impending displeasure of being woken up, and went down the hall to his room.
I peeked in through the door, careful not to let it creak when it opened. I tiptoed across the room, coffee mug in hand and knelt next to the bed. I carefully placed the coffee cup on the bedside table atop a pile of Russian novels he'd been working on, and started tugging the blankets off the bed.
A moment later the sleeping figure of Spencer Reid, age 28, appeared. Hair ruffled, horn rimmed glasses still on, and an open book at his side, he didn't look much different than usual, surprisingly. I almost felt bad to wake him up, but not too bad.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPENCIE-PIE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, pounding the mattress with my fists. His eyes flew open and he scrambled for something to hold onto. He shot me a terrified look. "Good morning," I said sweetly, handing him his cup of coffee. He pursed his lips, glaring at me. I grinned back, "Budge up," I commanded, Spencer moved over slightly. I plopped down next to him and ruffled his already messy hair.
"What was that?" he demanded, still glaring at me.
"Just your usual morning wakeup, old man," I joked, taking the already empty mug from him and replacing it on the table.
"Thanks," he said tiredly, trying to smooth his hair. I gave him a one-armed hug around his shoulders and returned to the kitchen, carrying the coffee mug with me.
Just 15 minutes later he was dressed in his usual, a dark button down, burgundy tie and gray dress pants. He didn't have shoes on, so I took a moment to notice his pink and blue-anchor sock pairing. "Where'd the cake come from?" he asked suddenly, speeding towards it. I stepped in front, blocking his path.
"No, no," I scolded as he continued looking at the cake, easily done considering he's about four inches taller than me.
He gave me a puppy dog look, "but it's my birthday!" he pleaded.
"Very good Spencer, but this is for you and all your little friends at work," I said in a voice resembling that of a mother talking to a five-year old. He stuck his tongue out at me and went to get more coffee.
A few minutes later he asked me, "So where's the cake from?"
"I made it," I told him, "At about 4 this morning."
His eyebrows shot up, "what, why did you do that?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised by my answer.
I shrugged, "wanted to surprise you. I practically had to wrestle Penelope before she'd agree to give me cake baking rights for this year," I explained.
He nodded and smiled, "That does sound like her."
Remembering my project from earlier, I crossed the room and tossed the book to Reid, who glanced at the cover. "No Way Ballet," he said confusedly, reading the title. "Thanks?"
I laughed, "Look inside," I insisted. He opened it to find many of the letters in the story highlighted. "Can you read it?" I asked curiously.
After a moment, he read, "It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea… this is Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe, he stated, recognizing the first lines of the poem immediately.
I nodded, "you mentioned awhile ago that you and your Mom used to read poetry together, so I found this one," I explained. "Speaking of which, are you expecting to hear from her, your Mom today?" Spencer shrugged, avoiding eye contact with me.
He flipped through the rest, "you like this poem? I could help you memorize it," he suggested, smiling.
I glanced at the floor, "Thanks, but I already know it."
"Really? When did you learn it?"
"Yesterday." I was suddenly embarrassed, my face turning pink. Spencer looked very interested now.
"Would you tell it to me?" he requested.
I took a breath and began,
"It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden, she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me,"
I paused, looking up at Spencer, who nodded.
"I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea."
I paused again, but Spencer motioned for me to continue,
"The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea."
When I finished I looked up at Spencer nervously. "You learned that in one day?" he asked astonished.
I nodded, "Last night, and this morning when I was highlighting," I confirmed.
"That's really great Sara; can you learn everything this fast?" I shook my head, "No, just some things."
Spencer nodded and we glanced at the clock, "We'd better go." I told him, carefully picking up the cake. Spencer opened the door for me and we drove to the FBI for Spencer's birthday celebration.