A/N

This chapter of the second book (Side Stories - I started while editing the first book) goes with the first (Shudder and Burn). I have more editing to do, it's still a little rough. I edited a little more. It never ends.

Here, we get to know a little more about Susan.

Chapter One - Susan

(Takes place before Chapter 1 - Dr. Susan Spencer)

/

"I don't flirt, Lizette. I've never flirted, you know that. It's not in my nature." Susan only called her best friend by her first name when she was being absolutely serious. "Why would I, anyway?"

"You're kidding, right? He's the only one who ever made you… you know." Lizette grinned, as she pulled her shoulder-length blonde hair back and wound the ponytail holder around it, securing it on the back of her head.

"You've been married to Andy for over three years and you can't say the word? Seriously, you're twisted. I've heard you say orgasm plenty of times."

"Shudder. I was going to say shudder." She laughed. "Sure, I can say it, but we're talking about YOU here. I didn't want to make you feel awkward or offend your virgin ears. You think it's him?" Lizette slid her long leg slowly out on the barre and stretched, wrapping her hands around her foot.

"I dunno, maybe?" Susan stretched like a mirror image. "I included information in some emails from that lecture. IF he was the same person, I'm sure he'd recognize it, but then again, why would he? He's probably done hundreds of talks all over the country, so why would he even remember me, or that one particular lecture?"

"Uh-huh. So, talk to him, ask him out and call me after class tomorrow and let me know how it went. Ooh, or better yet, bang him. Finally have some hot, nasty sex and scratch that obvious itch you've been holding onto, then you can finally move on. You could have your pick of guys. Wear that Black Widow costume for your demonstration, with your hair down, and bam, guys jump out of the woodwork. Remember last Halloween? God, I do. I looked like a beached whale. Or, better yet, wear the Wonder Woman costume. You look more like Gal Gadot, but younger, with lighter eyes and lighter hair… and bigger boobs." When Lizette finally took a breath, Susan jumped into the conversation.

"I'm looking for someone on my level, intellectually, but I'm not looking to bang anyone right now, especially if the guy has a wife or a girlfriend. That's not in my nature either. Yes, I remember last Halloween. You looked cute pregnant, certainly not like a beached whale. And I don't think I'll ever wear that Black Widow costume again. That suit was riding so far up my ass the waistband in the back was practically between my shoulder blades. No wonder guys like that costume. And Gal Gadot is taller... and maybe a cup size smaller than me. I'm going to wear my Karate Gi. Anyway, Dr. Spencer Reid will most likely have to cancel again, like the last seven...no, eight times, but I'll call, whether he shows up or not, and I'll be home by two if you want to hang out after. What do you want to do this weekend? A movie marathon? Hot tub? Wine? Ooh, even better, hot tub and wine?"

"Saturday, after your Self Defense class? Can't, remember? Andy's folks are visiting next weekend. That means Andy and I need to deep clean our place or I'm gonna have to hear it from Ingrid again about how dirty it is, with her looking down her nose at me. It's bad enough she rags on me over how small our place is, how hard it is to raise a child in a condo with a tiny yard, and how I should use my degree to get a better-paying job, so we can finally buy a house. Sorry, I'm not trying to rag on you. I still have the 'preggo belly' and Tiana's already two months old. I feel like a cow wearing this leotard."

"Andy will stand up to her like he always does. And you don't look like a cow. How about I ask Frankie to go with me to your place and help Andy clean? You and Tiana can relax and hang out at the house. As for the job, Darby's gonna retire in a few years and then you and I will be running the center. After this, I gotta pick up some lunch, head home, and get ready for class tomorrow."

"A day of relaxation sounds good. And Darby told me she's retiring in ten years. So, Rob's helping with the demo? Remember, don't break his thumb again." She pressed her lips together, trying to keep from laughing.

"Oh, ha-ha. Am I ever gonna live that down? That was three years ago. Besides, it was a fracture. A small one and Rob got six weeks off, then two more weeks of being fully paid while he worked part-time and received physical therapy. Maggie pleaded with me to let him come back to work if he promised to stick to paperwork only."

"I gotta tease you about something… let me have my giggles. Laughter helps tighten the abs." She grinned. "Have fun tomorrow."

"Thanks, Pal. You too." She gave Lizette a hug. "Later Gator" and signed 'I Love You' to her.

"Toodle, Poodle." She signed 'ILY' back, then turned her hand over, pulled her index finger in, and held it to the side of her head, mimicking a phone, mouthing, Call me. Lizette turned around to go pick up Tiana from the daycare room, while Susan went to the front office.

Darby Porter, petite, in her mid-fifties, with a mix of short brown and grey hair, was the community center's Assistant Director. She was talking on the phone with a volunteer and held her hand up as Susan got to her door. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Judy. See you tomorrow, for Story Time." She set the phone on the base. "Suzie, I have a message for you, from Dozer. He said Mrs. Delfino wasn't happy with her roof. In her words, 'it's too white."

Susan shook her head and grunted under her breath. "They wouldn't have used white tiles if she didn't ask for white. Dozer really needs to take that up with Rob, not me. Thanks, Darby." She sighed and took the slip of paper from her. "I'll call him and Rob when I get home."

"No rest for the weary, dear." Darby's mouth twisted as she tried hard not to smile. "Have a great class tomorrow."

"Oh, Lizette told you… didn't she."

"Yep, she told me all about him." Darby had her hand over her mouth, hiding her grin.

Susan sighed, shrugging. "No, it's not him. It's Dr. Spencer Reid, the guy Dave works with, though I've been looking forward to meeting him, as well. He sounds like someone I want to get to know. My boss sent me an email before he retired, saying Dr. Reed worked with the D.C. field office. Maybe he left the BAU? Anyway, I'll see you Wednesday." She took a couple of steps to the doorway.

"Suzie? You need to have some fun, take a day off... or two."

"If I do, I'll call. Besides, I had nearly two weeks off not that long ago." Susan took another two steps back, toward the lobby.

"That was last year and taking care of your brother for two weeks after his surgery isn't a vacation."

"The first week was with him and the boys at Disneyland... and the beach." Susan took another step, looking behind her.

Darby's voice was louder, now. She was standing in the doorway of her office. "Yes, I remember. Oh, Pete at the Journal needs your bio for the article. Don't forget."

"Hmm. I… did that already and emailed it to you." So much for a clean getaway. Damn.

Darby shook her head and gave Susan a hard stare. "You sent me three lines."

"I don't know what to write. Can you write it for me? Please? Pretty please?" Susan knew that would make Darby smile. "It's hard to write about myself. It comes off as either too vague, too academic, or makes it seem like I'm bragging, and I don't like that. I could write about you, Jinny, or Lizette, easily. How about we have Pete write the article about Jesse? Smart kid, outstanding athlete, and an all-around nice guy? That would help with his college career."

Again, Darby shook her head, but she was smiling, now. "Just start writing, whatever pops into your head. Your hopes, your dreams, goals, childhood. Write about anything, everything. Write about him. Get into Therapist Mode, pretend you're listening to a patient, and type. Get it all out, then go back through it and take out anything you feel shouldn't go into the article. E-mail me a half-page, at least... by Friday… please. Then if necessary, I'll edit it down before I send it in."

"Okay. If I have to, I'll give it my best. Writing about psychology is easier. How about Neurochemistry instead?" Darby stared at her, blankly. Susan sighed. "Fine. Gotta run. TTFN." She fluttered her fingers in a wave, went through the lobby and out the front door, waving to Marsha at the travel agency across the street. After picking up her Kung Pao Chicken and fried rice at Wang's Chinese restaurant, she walked home.

Once she finished eating and getting things ready for the next day's class, Susan turned on the computer and started typing. Write about anything.

Write about anything.

February 24th, 2020

Dr. Susan Spencer, Psychology professor at George Washington University and Director of the Wheeler Park and Recreation Center… dance classes… art classes… cooking classes… sports programs… Yoga… Spring Fling... blah… blah… blah…

Total snooze fest, Susan! (Edit that out later!)

The Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over The Lazy Dog.

Write about him…

That I can do, she thought to herself. Susan let her mind wander while her fingers typed.

I dreamed about him again, last night. And the dreams have changed over the years, from the sweet, innocent kisses and embraces, to more. Much more. The kind of much more I've seen in shows like Sex and the City, or Outlander, or even Game of Thrones. The kind that doesn't leave much to the imagination. The kind that leaves me… wanting.

Write something about the rec center.

My best friend Lizette and I have been volunteering at the Wheeler Park and Recreation Center since I was 10 (and she was 11), helping my mother teach Ballet to the younger girls, doing miscellaneous office work, basically odd jobs that needed to be done.

(I already sent this to Darby. Write something else.)

Even while attending GW, I spent much of my free time at the center, tutoring, and dancing. By the time I earned my BA in Dance, I was teaching several dance classes. It gave me an outlet for my creative side, since I was also working on my dissertation and a psychological study about sex. I wanted to know why people did what they did. My sign hung across the front of the table where I sat in the quad had printed on it, 'Let's talk about sex.' And oh, boy, did people want to talk about it. AND they wanted to ASK me about it. Since there was only one person I had ever had feelings for and I had no idea where he was, this was easy to do. The professor who set up that guest lecture told me Dr. Reid, from the FBI had contacted him, through the Academy. And then I got busy. I kept thinking I would see him again. And the years went by. Maybe one day, I will see him again. I don't even know if that 'zing' will happen again. It was probably a fluke. But in my dreams, he's there. Night after night. I can only see him. It's like watching a movie, I can't feel him.

Hmm... And I'm thinking about him again. Think about something else. Something... something... something...

Mom and Grandma never would have let me watch shows like Outlander or Game of Thrones when I was sixteen. Both of them were straight-laced, Catholic girls growing up; virgins when they got married and I doubt either had even seen a naked man until their wedding night. At least that's what I tell myself. It's a good thing neither of them had gone to college, in the technological age. No doubt they both would have received dozens of dick pics in text messages. Once your phone number gets out, be careful opening texts.

What is it with guys sending dick pics, anyway? Do they honestly expect a woman to look at it and say, 'yeah, I'll go out with him, based on this picture? It got to the point I wouldn't open text messages unless it was from someone I knew. Am I so old-fashioned that I'd like to meet a guy and feel a connection, to feel 'that zing' and get to know him before seeing him naked?

How did I get on THAT tangent? Re-focusing. EDIT ALL that out later.

/

I remember Jason said to me a few months before I graduated from high school, that I might make a good profiler in the BAU, after college. That was the second time I'd ever heard my father raise his voice. It was doubly odd that he raised it to Jason. Dad had always looked up to him. He told Jason, rather harshly, "Don't wish that for her. Suzie's not the type that could do that job and not be hardened by it." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, then.

Years later, Jason told me he was actually relieved I didn't follow my dad's path into the FBI. That was a few months after he left the BAU when he seemed so sad, as if something inside him was broken.

Re-focus on the community center!

After my mother died, the job of overseeing the rec center as Executive Director went to me, as an heir apparent, of sorts. It should have gone to Darby Porter who actually runs the place. She does her job very well. Personally, I enjoy being the link between Stan, the Senior Trust Manager—and his accounting staff—and the center. Teaching, dancing, and working for the security company help fill my time and keeps me busy.

Several years ago, my boss and mentor, Dr. Harkanian, convinced me the study I did when I interned for him, on the Psychology of Human Sexuality would make a great class. One of the brightest minds I have ever encountered was asking me to teach a class. Me! It was an honor to have the head of the Psychology Department as a mentor. My 'cool detachment impressed him and the other professors' when discussing the subject of sex. You know the expression, "Those who can't do, teach", or in my case "don't do." Talking about sex doesn't seem to affect me, the way it did others.

By the end of last year, I could see Dr. H's mind slipping so quickly, forgetting even the simplest things, but there were still moments of clarity, now and then. Just before he retired last semester, he couldn't remember where his office was. And when he sent me an email about Dr. Reed, from the FBI headquarters, in DC hoping to do some guest lectures in my class, I wasn't even sure if it was the same guy from nearly thirteen years ago.

When I think about the FBI or Georgetown, I think about that lecture from 2006, and then I think about him. The flash that played in my head, of him kissing me, left me more than just hot and bothered. I remember it like it was yesterday when I finally felt 'the zing' my mother and grandmother experienced, with my father and grandfather, respectively.

The first thing I did when I got home that day, was to holler for my mom and grandma, as I ran in the front door. They were in the kitchen, making Arroz de Braga and Pasteis de Nata. Oh, the scent was heavenly; two of my favorite foods. I told them what happened. Finally, I felt it. Some girls tell their mothers when they first get their periods. In my family, it was talking about getting the tingles. Mom didn't seem all that pleased, but my grandmother was happy for me and handed me a custard tart, still warm from the oven. Ooh, treats BEFORE dinner? A huge deal.

What I didn't tell them was the subject of the lecture. If Jason or I had told them it was on Serial Rapists and Sexual Deviants, when he suggested that I attend, I doubt they would have been pleased with me going. I ate the tart and ran upstairs to change out of my ballet outfit.

Refocus. Write about college.

I earned my first bachelor's degree in Dance by the time I was sixteen while working on my doctorate in Psychology, which I earned by 18, at GW. Then I was accepted to MIT where I got my bachelor's degree in Chemistry, with a focus on Neurochemistry. While I was there, I became intrigued with Artificial Intelligence, in Computers. Before long, I ended up with a Ph.D. in Computer Science and Electrical Engineering.

After I graduated from MIT, I felt I was standing at the crossroads. Do I use my degree in Computers to pursue a career with the government? Three agencies were trying to convince me they could use my talents, but I wasn't sure. I felt there was another path for me. Now, looking back at it, I'm sure I chose the right one. So, I came home, returned to GW, and got my Master's in Education. Teaching, dancing, and working on my projects have made me happy. Something Dad always wanted for my brother and me. And it's allowed me to give back to the community; something else my folks felt strongly about.

/

This morning, I woke up from a wonderful dream about the extremely cute guest lecturer, panting and gasping. It seemed so real and my entire body throbbed. My greatest fear now is the same as thirteen years ago. IF I ever see him again, do I tell him? How do I tell him? How to explain it in a way that didn't make me look like one of those college groupies. You know, the students who make goo-goo eyes at the professor? Except now, I'm the professor. And I didn't want him to see me as a stalker, or worse yet, a weirdo stalker. Over the last dozen years, I've tried to imagine other guys kissing me, to see if it would happen. If I felt anything at all, it was nausea, as if the thought of their lips on mine was so repulsive it made me want to vomit. I couldn't explain it, and neither could mom nor grandma. They had even less dating experience than me. Over the years, I've had many male and female friends, but none ever made me shake.

Susan stared at the page. Maybe I should write about... Hmm. Checking the clock, she would write more and edit later. Right now, I need to find and pack my Karate Gi for tomorrow.

The laptop seemed to mock her; sitting there, open, waiting, that damn cursor blinking and blinking, along with the low battery icon, so she saved the page, turned it off, closed it up, and plugged in the charger.

/

The next morning, since she needed to go over class notes and e-mails from students before class, Susan took the bus. On the way to the bus stop by the park, she thought about stopping by the apartment, then remembered Janelle would probably be there. It wasn't worth going in, since an argument with her was inevitable. Nothing is ever her fault, and everyone else is to blame. Blah, blah, blah. She really needs to grow up and get her own place. She has her own money and should stop spending it on drugs and booze, or maybe even kick in for rent once in a while. Susan sighed out loud. I'll try to talk to her again.

Thankfully, there were others getting off the bus, or Susan would have missed her stop. As she headed towards Wheeler Hall, she had more than enough time to stop on the way for a Chai Latte. While waiting in line, she finished checking her emails. Still no email from the elusive Dr. Spencer Reid to reschedule. Why is it, every time Dave talks about Spencer, I picture Dr. Reid, from the lecture, in my head? A frame of reference, no doubt. Still, that's weird. More like weird with a beard.

She waved at Jeremy, her T/A, and his boyfriend Tim who were walking up to the door of Peet's, as she was walking out. "Hey JB. I'll be in my office if it's important." Turning, she sipped on her Chai Latte as she headed to the back door of the classroom to her office. She still had to change into her Gi before class.

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A/N This is a chapter of my 2nd book, Side Stories. There were stories that needed to be told.
I'll post where these stories fit in Shudder and Burn. It seems like a one-shot but is part of the overall story.

I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know your thoughts after reading this and if you want to read more.

LW