A/N

Thank you, Hannah (grahamlecter) for Beta-reading my story and finding my mistakes. I am forever grateful for your help!

G-Girl

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Chapter Thirty - Angel in a Long Red Gown

Later that morning, Susan and Spencer met up with Phil at the accounting firm, where they were shown to a conference room. Stanley Forester, the trust administrator, and Sam Watkins, the family lawyer, joined them. Susan introduced Spencer to them, and after the handshakes all around, the stock certificates and bearer bonds were given to one of Stan's clerks to be cataloged and copied.

Phil told the group a representative of the auction house would meet them later at the house after they finished listing everything. He also contacted a friend he trusted, a collectibles dealer, who was interested in the baseball cards and the coin collection. He was coming by the house later, as well.

Susan knew with Phil handling it; it would be done quickly and fairly. By the end of the meeting, Stan's assistant, George, walked in. Everything was listed on a cover page on top of a folder with all the documents in it. He handed the leather satchel back to Susan with a set of copies for her and her brother.

She handed the satchel to him. "Phil, do you want to keep this? Dad must have gotten this long before you were born."

"Thank you, Sooz. Yeah, I would." He set it on the table and ran his finger lightly over the engraved nameplate. "It looks… older. Maybe it belonged to Dad's great-grandfather..."

Back at the house, Susan pulled containers out of the fridge. "Anyone hungry? There's leftover Pasta Carbonara, salad fixings, fruit, and flan."

Phil laughed. "You had my attention at Pasta!"

Susan warmed up lunch while her brother put together the salad, and they sat in the dining room, talking and eating. Spencer was learning more about trust funds and assets, as well as Susan's childhood and her family.

The inventory process was easy to understand, as Phil explained it, while they ate. Spencer looked around at more of the family pictures on the walls, in the dining room, of Phil and Susan from their school years and graduations. There were photos with friends as well and even a few celebrities, including one with Susan standing next to Stephen Hawking in his wheelchair.

In another photo, Susan stood between two older women in front of the fountains at the Bellagio hotel. Spencer recognized her mother and grandmother from other pictures. All three wore long, formal gowns. Susan's was red—sexy and daring—with a slit up to the top of her left thigh, and a plunging neckline; her mother wore an emerald-green gown and her grandmother, in royal blue. Spencer asked Susan about the occasion.

"We went to Las Vegas to celebrate my graduation from MIT." She shrugged. "And we had a good time."

Phil chuckled, picking up the story. "Oh, no, no, there's more to it, Spence. My grandmother told me all about it when they got to Pasadena two days later to spend the rest of the week with me and the boys. So, after they checked into the hotel, they got all dressed up and went downstairs to gamble. Now my Mom and Grandmother enjoyed playing blackjack and were good at it, but Sooz ratchets that up to… crazy good level. The three are talking, laughing, and having a good time. Grandma said it seemed like Sooz was barely paying attention to the cards, yet still played very well, racking up stacks of chips."

Susan cut in, to explain, "I only act like I'm not paying attention to the cards, so the dealer won't catch on to my card-playing abilities. Maybe they figured I was lucky, but I play to win." She grinned and winked at Spencer.

Phil continued. "Later, Mom said she wanted to go check out one of the other casinos, so they got up to leave, and my sister gives the dealer a tip—10k in chips—like it's no big deal. Anyway, the ladies go cash their chips in and go get a cab, heading to another casino… The Venetian, I think. The cab driver is telling the ladies how pretty they all look, and Grandma told me his voice sounded sad and stressed. She looks at his Driver ID for his name and asks, 'Frank, what's wrong?' Well, he tells them his wife had a baby girl, the day before, but they're both still in the hospital from complications during the birth. His mother-in-law was helping out by looking after their older child while he's working extra shifts, to pay for the hospital bill. So, the three of them get to the other casino and my sister takes a stack of hundreds out of her purse and hands it to the guy, tells him to take the rest of the night off, go see his wife, and baby, not to worry about the hospital bill."

Spencer smiled and glanced over at Susan, who had her hands covering her face as Phil went on. "A week later, I'm on the phone with a buddy who lives in Vegas, and he tells me about an article he read in the paper that morning about a cab driver and an angel in a red gown, who gave him a forty-thousand-dollar tip on a ten-dollar fare. The cab driver told a friend of his, who writes for a Vegas paper. This is the kind of person my sister is, Spence. She'd give someone the shirt off her back if someone needed it. It's no wonder people adore her."

Spencer nodded. "I see the effect she has on people, myself included." He turned to Susan and playfully added, "That's amazing, but… you got to meet Stephen Hawking?"

She laughed. "Mm-hmm. At MIT, in '09 after a lecture."

Spencer told Phil, "I'm from Las Vegas and have been banned from all the casinos, because of my… penchant for winning, so when I'm there, I usually end up playing video poker. Oh, Susan and I are going this weekend… to see my father."

"You two are staying at her favorite hotel, right?"

"Yes. I'm sure it'll be a great trip."

After lunch, they went into the library to make lists of the items from the safe and the remaining bottles of wine. Phil pulled the copies of the bearer bonds and stock certificates out of the leather bag, setting them on the table.

"Sooz, could you write out all the names and years of all the baseball cards? Also, would you mind if I keep Gramps' stamp collection?" I used to help him find and glue stamps in the book."

She nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'm okay with that."

Leafing through the bearer bond copies, Spencer remarked absently, "Stamp collectors are referred to as Philatelists."

"Phil-atelists?" Susan chuckled. "See? You have to take it!"

Spencer glanced up and smiled, happy that she appreciated his ability to remember obscure information.

Going through the baseball cards and writing down the information, Susan noticed there were several duplicates and triplicates. "Phil? Since these belonged to Dad and Gramps—and Ellen has nothing to gain from it—would you like a few of the duplicates to take home for Trey and Eddie?"

"Spence, we call my eldest son, Phillip the 3rd Trey, and both he and Eddie play baseball. Sooz, they would go nuts over those. That's a great idea, thanks."

Susan laid out the cards, setting the duplicates and triplicates in a separate stack, not listing them in the inventory.

Phil leaned over the table next to her. "Why don't we take everything we know for sure was Grandpa's and put a B on the list, and everything we know for sure was Dad's or Gramps' on a separate list, with an S. Everything we aren't sure about, we'll share with Ellen since that would be the fair thing to do. Spence, Grandpa and Grandma were Ed and Mary Bartholomew. Gramps and Grams were William and Suzanne Spencer."

"Thank you, Phil… for letting me know." Spencer already knew since Susan had told him, but it was nice her brother was including him in the conversation. He counted the number of gold ingots, listing them by serial number, starting with the one-ounce bars, then the one-kilogram bars, replacing them in the cases as he went along.

Phil listed out the wine, setting the bottles into crates he had brought with him and stacked them, then started a new list for the coin collection, tucking the plastic coin cases back into the slots in the wooden case as he finished each drawer. He opened the last drawer and pulled out a dark-brown leather pouch, and chuckled.

"I always wondered what happened to this. Gramps' kept it in his desk, used to say it brought him luck. I think it was his grandfather's, Phillip Dennison Spencer. His wife was… Anne Volta Wheeler… right?"

"Right." She turned to Spencer. "Anne is the one I told you about. What's in it?"

Carefully, he pulled the old leather drawstrings open and emptied the contents onto the table—dozens of coins. He counted as he stacked them. "Twenty-seven 3-dollar coins and eight of the 4-dollar coins. These go on the S list, for sure."

Susan glanced at the coins, then back at her brother. "Maybe we should each keep one… why tempt fate?"

Spencer walked over and studied them, one by one, checking the dates. "These 1865 3-dollar Indian Princess Head gold coins are worth several thousand each, but the 1879 and 1880 4-dollar coins are worth ten times that… each, depending on their condition, which determines the grade value. These are in very good to extremely fine condition, except these two… they are, in my opinion… good to perhaps very good." He looked up, to see Susan smiling. "Last year… I… read a book about rare coins."

Phil nudged his sister's arm. "Dave told me Spencer is one of the smartest guys he's ever met. And since that includes Jason, Dad, Gramps, and Grandpa, I'm impressed."

"Oh, but I already knew that…"

He slipped two coins back into the bag and handed it to Susan, and put the rest back in the cabinet. "How about you keep these since I'm keeping the stamp collection?"

"Sure." She wrote an S on the lists of bonds, the certificates, coins, and on the list of baseball cards. As Spencer handed her the list of gold bars, he leaned over and kissed her, then sat down at the table next to her.

Phil pulled a package of plastic sheets out of a tote bag to put the baseball cards in, handing them to Susan and asked her to put the cards in the pockets. When she was done with that, she scanned them into her computer and printed a copy of each page.

She stacked the sheets on the table and picked up the leftover cards, laying some out to show Phil. "There are four spare Jackie Robinson cards. You could have one, Trey and Eddie could each have one and I could keep one."

He told Spencer, "Gramps was a big fan of Jackie's." as he picked up the stack, looking the rest over. There were rookie cards for Mickey Mantle, Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Sandy Koufax, Roberto Clemente, and Eddie Mathews. The last card was Joe DiMaggio. Phil chuckled. "Hey, whattaya know, Joltin' Joe!"

"Joltin Joe?" Spencer shook his head. "I'm not that familiar with Baseball players… or most athletes, for that matter."

Phil was surprised. "DiMaggio? The Yankee Clipper?" Spencer's eyebrows rose inquiringly, and he shook his head again. Phil added, "He was married to Marilyn Monroe."

Spencer nodded, holding his thumb up. "Got it."

Susan slipped the leftover cards into the pockets of four plastic sheets. "How about this.'' She showed her brother. "This one for Trey, one for Eddie, one for you, and the last one for me?"

The first two pages were full, with nine cards, the third page had seven cards, and the last page had five. Phil took out the DiMaggio card from his page, smiled broadly, and stuck it in Susan's page. "There, that's better."

She was glad to have it all done, plus she and her brother both had reminders of their grandfather, father, and their mutual admiration of baseball. She left the room, coming back a minute later with picture frames, and sat back down at the table.

Spencer admired the fact it all was done without a single argument. The siblings obviously loved each other, wanting the best for the other. As an only child, the closest he had to sibling dynamics was with his BAU family, but in his work, he had seen firsthand families who fought and some who even killed when there was money involved.

The gate buzzer sounded from the speaker above the front door, so Phil went out and brought in the representative from the auction house and introduced him. "This is Oscar Ventura, from New York." Susan got up as the man's assistant followed him in.

Mr. Ventura shook hands with Susan and waved to Spencer, who was across the room, making copies of the lists at the printer, handing them to Susan when he finished. "Call me Oscar, please. This is Vicky, one of my assistants. And she's a Notary Public." He produced several papers from a file folder, sat down, looking over the lists of wine bottles and gold ingots. After he finished completing the paperwork, he signed it and had Phil and Susan sign those and the lists, then clipped a copy to each of the pages.

Spencer was sitting in an overstuffed chair with his legs crossed, holding a book in his hands, noting the process was done in a very business-like and efficient manner.

Another assistant brought a dolly in from the van, loaded up the wine, and took them out, then came back in for the cases. Vicky was there to verify the identifications of Phil and Susan on all the documents.

Susan made a copy of the notarized documents and handed the originals back to Oscar. After everything was taken out to be loaded into the van, he turned to go and saw the Dancer prints.

He told Phil, "I can get you a considerable price for these if you're interested."

Phil shook his head, chuckling. "My sister won't part with them, for… personal reasons."

Oscar looked at her, then the prints again, and smiled. "I understand." He shook her hand. "Those are difficult to find, since only a limited number of the prints were released. Mr. du Massier could re-release those and make a bundle." He looked over the rest of the prints. "You have a marvelous collection."

"Thank you," Susan said quietly, leaning against the table.

The assistant came back in, saying everything was loaded into the van and secured. Oscar shook hands again with Phil and Susan, then gave another wave to Spencer across the room.

Phil walked him and the assistant to the door, then closed it after they left and came back into the library.

Susan was sitting at the piano. "I'm taking requests. Hey, maybe I should get one of those huge brandy snifters, for tips."

"Here's a tip," and they both said at the same time, "Don't take any wooden nickels." They laughed out loud.

Spencer looked up and his eyebrows arched quizzically. Susan told him, "It was an old joke of our grandfather's." He smiled and went back to reading.

"Hey, Phil, Spencer plays chess, if you're interested..."

"Is he better than Dad was? Eddie and I play, though he's better than me. I'll give it my best. What do you say, Spence?"

"Sure." He set his book down and went to sit down on the side of the chessboard with the dark wood pieces.

Susan wondered if Phil's game had gotten good enough to go up against Spencer as she played a song from one of her favorite movies, Sense and Sensibility. It was in the scene in which Marianne plays a song that Elinor tells Edward was her father's favorite. By the time she finished, the game was over. Phil walked back over to the piano, with his hands up, spread in defeat.

"He's good. Like Jason, good."

"Jace recruited him into the FBI at twenty-two and mentored him when he joined the BAU."

Spencer set the chess pieces back on the board and walked back over. "Gideon was much more than a mentor. He was a friend; greatly missed by me and everyone at the BAU. He didn't talk about his personal life and sadly, never told me about Susan."

"He was the one who suggested I attend the lecture. The next time I saw him, he asked how it went. So I told him it was interesting and informative, and he just… shrugged. I wonder if he meant how it went with you? It didn't occur to me to tell him that."

Spencer smiled wistfully. "This shrug?" He had his head tilted, his hands in front of his shoulders, with his palms facing up and lips puckered, as he sat down on the piano bench next to Susan.

Susan nodded, her expression pensive. "Mm-hmm. Exactly like that."

"Did he ever talk about his wife?"

Phil sat down on the settee across from them. "I overheard him talking to my dad about her… Rachel. She died in September '03. Cancer. By the time she found out… all the doctors could do was keep her comfortable. Jason found out when he came home from a long case and a few back-to-back recruitment seminars. He barely had a week to say goodbye, then threw himself back into his work after she died."

"I didn't know… I think Dave and Aaron knew her name. From the few things he did say, I assumed she died, but didn't ask and he never talked about her at work." He faced Phil, with Susan sitting against his back with her hands on his sides.

Phil continued, "Jason was sweet on our mom in the years after dad died… protective. She tried to dissuade him, even set him up with her friend… ahh… Sooz, what was her name?"

"Doris. They had been dating for several months, and she told Mom they were at Jason's cabin when a severed head was delivered. After that, she couldn't bring herself to see him again."

Spencer nodded. "Mm-hmm. From Jamaica. I remember that case." He told them about Randall Garner and the pipe bombs, and how, except for the back of his scorched pants, he survived unscathed when Garner blew himself up.

"You survived… literally… by the seat of your pants?" Phil chuckled. "You were lucky. Jason rarely ever talked about work here. When he did come by, he would sit with my mom and they would talk about music and art. The next thing I heard, he was dating an old girlfriend. A few years later when our grandmother passed, Jason visited, said he loved Mom, and she told him she cared about him, but didn't, or couldn't feel with him, what she felt with my dad. You know she did that shaking thing too." Spencer nodded as Phil went on. "She asked him if he could accept that, or rather the lack of it, and for him to take some time to think about it. Not long after that, Dave told us Jason had been killed, then a couple of years later, our mom died."

Spencer thought about how Gideon's death affected him, then thought about how Susan and Phil lost their mother and Jason. "Her name was Sarah… his college girlfriend. When he left the BAU, he wrote me a letter, and then… years later, we found out about his death from the Roanoke Sheriff's department." Susan's hands were still on his sides, and he heard her sniffle.

Phil's cell phone rang, and he answered it as he stood, talked for a moment, then put it back in his pocket. "That was my friend, Allen. He's parking out front. And... that about wraps it up. After he leaves, I'll have enough time to check out of the hotel, take my rental back and catch my flight home."

Susan got up from the piano and hugged him. "It's been great spending time with you."

Phil gave her a squeeze. As Susan let him go, he touched the tip of her nose. "You've got a great guy here, Sis."

She slid her arms around Spencer, smiling. "That's for sure."

"Okay, then. Sooz, can you put the pages and inventory sheets in the notebook? It's in the bag on the table. Thanks, I appreciate it." The gate buzzer went off, and Phil went to the door, while Susan put the pages of baseball cards in the binder, closed the rings, and set it down on the table, then slid the framed card sheets into her brother's bag.

Phil brought his friend into the library, and introduced him to Susan and Spencer, then showed him to the table.

Allen opened the case and whistled as he studied the coin collection. Then he picked up the notebook, flipping through the pages of cards. He looked up at Phil. "Wow, you've got a lot of winners here. Counting the pages, he multiplied that by 9. "There are… a hundred and seventeen cards here, and from what I can see, in mint condition. Many of these are rare, only a few… not so much. You have my word I'll get you top dollar for those and the coin collection." They shook on it, and he signed the inventory pages in the binder, for the cards and the coins. Then Phil and Susan signed them, and she made copies. She came back over handed her brother a set of copies and the tote bag.

Phil said he was going to walk Allen to the gate on his way out. He gave Susan another hug and a kiss on the forehead and then shook Spencer's hand. "I'll be seeing you two soon, right?"

"Absolutely." Spencer nodded, smiling, as he slipped his arm around Susan's back. After Phil and his friend left, he asked Betty to lock the door. "What was the song you were playing earlier? I didn't recognize it."

"It's from Sense and Sensibility. The movie, not the book."

"I've read the book but haven't seen the movie. That song isn't by any classical composer, is it?"

"No, it was written for the movie. We could put it on if you'd like to snuggle up with me?"

"Sure. That's the best way to watch a movie..."

Susan had a message on her cell phone from Darby. She listened to it, then put her phone down and sat down next to Spencer. "Darby says Jinny isn't able to teach my Dance class after all, on Wednesday, but can teach the others, which works out perfectly."

"As nice as it would be to go watch you teach the class, my being there may make your students self-conscious, so I'll probably bring some more things over from my apartment, or spend the time here, reading."

"I could dance for you. Anytime you'd like." She kissed him and shuddered, which made him smile.

Later, as they fixed dinner, Spencer said he liked the movie, but snuggling and making out with her on the sofa made it even nicer.

Susan leaned on the counter next to him. "The next movie is your choice, and I agree, that's the best part of watching movies with you. Makes up for a misspent youth."

His brow arched. "Misspent youth? I assume you're joking. We both concentrated on our education, foregoing the… uh, amorous pursuits of the average teenager and young adult."

"Yes, Love, it was a joke. So we're making up for it now."

Grinning, he nodded in agreement. "Definitely. There is a movie I'd like to see, but I don't know the title. It's about an angel who gives up his immortality because he fell in love with a woman, and they were only together for a day before she was killed."

"Hmm. That sounds like City of Angels… with Nic Cage and Meg Ryan. It's a good movie and I know I have it.."

After dinner, Susan went down to the basement, and Spencer followed. She pulled the tablecloths and cloth napkins out of the dryer, into a basket while he was looking at the wall next to the bank of mirrors by the guest room door. There were a few more dance quotes on tiles among the framed photos of her in various dancing outfits, from different times in her life. He saw one of her in her full ballet outfit that must have been right before she stopped dancing. In it, she looked terribly thin, standing in a group with other dancers, including a younger Lizette and her cousin Janelle. One side of the photo had been cropped, cutting out one person almost entirely; only a sliver of a leg remained. Spencer assumed it was the dance teacher. There were other photos of Susan in her Belly Dancing costumes, looking happier standing next to women who wore similar outfits. Perhaps those were recitals, he thought.

He heard her say she was going back upstairs. By now, he had seen everything on the walls in the house. Family photos were displayed more prominently than her various degrees, which hung on the wall behind her desk with more family photos. No doubt she was proud of those, but the photos showed what Susan treasured most: family and friends. He went up the stairs to help her fold and put the linens away in the pantry.

Later, Spencer went over his notes for the lecture he was preparing for on Thursday. He was thankful to have an extra day to do that. Susan sat down beside his stack of books.

"Did your dad say where they were getting married? Are we dressing up? Formal? Casual dressy? Uh… Spencer?"

He blinked slowly several times, finally speaking after a moment. "Sorry, I went blank when you asked where he was getting married." He called his father, asked him the questions, and listened, nodding. "Don't worry about it; I didn't think to ask before." He made a writing gesture with his fingers, and Susan handed him a pen from the coffee table. He mouthed, Thank you, writing notes on the back of the hotel reservation. "Uh-huh. We're flying in Thursday, staying at the Bellagio. Yeah... No, no, not at all, it's no trouble. I'm happy to be there for you... Yeah... Okay. Thanks. Love you too, Dad. I'll call you when we get in... bye."

Spencer gave Susan the rundown. "He's getting married at the home of his friend, and best man, Steve, on Saturday evening. The reception will be there, as well. And he is arranging for a car to pick us up and return us to the hotel. Oh, and it's formal. Do you still have that red dress?"

"Yes. And I have a dress bag if you want to put your suit in it. We can have the hotel laundry handle anything that needs pressing."

"Thanks. And he has a brunch planned for Friday morning and invited me to his guy's night out later, to have drinks with him and a few friends. It'll be a small wedding, only a dozen people, including us."

Spencer set his phone on the coffee table, laid his head on the back of the sofa, and groaned, rubbing his closed eyelids with his knuckles.

"Are you okay, Love?"

"Yeah, still trying to process all of this. How are you with neck and shoulder massages?"

"I could show you? Let me know if you'd like more or less pressure." She tapped his knee. "For anyone else, I'd stand behind them. I used to give my mom shoulder and neck massages when she'd have one of her headaches. For you, though, I'll add in a little extra lovin' and some kisses, too."

As Spencer uncrossed his legs, she straddled his thighs and massaged his shoulders, kissing his lips and down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt. He groaned, holding her hips, leaning against her, his face against her neck while she moved her hands down his back to his shoulder blades, then along his neck and all over his scalp. He smiled and sighed, with his eyes still closed.

"How's that?" She kissed him softly.

"Mmm, better." He opened his eyes as his hands trailed slowly down, lingering on the back of her slacks. "Oh, the other day, I looked through a photo album in the library. Adorable baby pictures of you, by the way."

"Aww, thanks. The scrapbook with the pictures we took abroad is on that shelf if you'd like to look at it."

"Sure. I'd like that."

She brought it over and sat back down with him. One of the first pictures, she told him, was taken by her grandmother; only Susan and her mother Emily were in it, standing with their suitcases in the luggage check line at the airport.

Susan was right, he thought. In the picture, she looked much like she did in high school, except thinner and a little taller. From beneath the strip of her bare skin showing between the top of her low-rise jeans and the hem of her t-shirt, her hip bones protruded. And her eyes and cheekbones seemed larger than normal.

The pictures in the scrapbook were labeled; where they were and what they were doing. Going through page by page, he could see her transform, from the gaunt girl of 13, at the airport, with a faint smile, to four months later, in Greece, at a healthier weight, wearing a grin on her face and a bikini on her curvy body. "Tell me more about this picture."

"It was sunny and breezy that day, about 60 degrees, and our tour guide had taken us to Cape Sounio, the southernmost spot on the Attica Peninsula. Others wore sweaters and jackets, and I had dad's sweater on over my sundress, with my bikini on under it. I wanted a picture of me wearing it since, by that time, I felt more comfortable with my body." Susan was still slim in the photo but had some curves. "My grandmother handed me a shawl, told me to wear it over my swimsuit, and right before Mom took the picture, I held the shawl up and a gust of wind pulled it out, like a flag."

Spencer smiled. "You definitely look healthier… and happier than at the beginning of your trip."

"Oh, for sure. The tour bus driver, Gus, was a bit of a perv. We were sitting in the seats behind him when I told my mom I wanted a picture of me without my dress, and he offered to drive us to Legrena beach, while everyone else was at Cape Sounio." Spencer looked at her, puzzled, so she explained. "Legrena is a nudist-friendly beach, about a kilometer away."

His eyebrows shot up and he grinned.

"We didn't go… perv." She leaned in and kissed him.

He grinned wider. "Only with you... now." Susan sitting sideways between his legs. He had one hand on her back and the other holding the back cover of the photo album. "Every lecture I did after the first one, I'd look for you in the audience. It's odd; the thought that you were no longer a student didn't occur to me." He closed the photo album and set it on the coffee table, then put both his arms around her, held her close, and whispered in her ear. "There's something I'd like you to do for me." He kissed her neck softly, his breath warm and heavy.

"Mmm." Susan trembled with anticipation as she slid her arms around him. "Sure, Love. What is it?"

He met her eyes and spoke normally. "Show me how you do your CBT?"

She laughed. "I was expecting you to say something else, but okay, sure. Now, normally, I'd have the client sitting in a chair or lying on a couch next to my chair, but since it's you…" She got up and patted the pillow on the end of the sofa. "… here... lay down, get comfy. For reference, I use a visualization based on a passage in A Study in Scarlet."

Tossing the pillow onto the chaise as she sat next to him, he moved her right leg to the back of the sofa, then laid down, with his head on her left thigh. "This would make me comfy." He looked up at her, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.

"Oh, okay. Close your eyes and relax." She placed a hand gently on his chest, the other on the top of his head. Her voice was soft and soothing as she talked—in measured beats—for several minutes, and he could feel himself relax; his breathing slowed.

She continued slowly, "Clear your thoughts. Picture your mind as a room. Bring it into focus and tell me in detail, what's in it and what it looks like."

"Mm-hmm. I remember the book…" Spencer felt relaxed, almost weightless as if he were floating. He pictured his mind as an attic, and he spoke quietly, "It's dark. The room, the walls, everything is dark. Books I've read are in bookcases against the wall and in stacks, all around. All the cases I've worked on are in files, in filing cabinets. The file jackets are… crammed in the cabinets, sticking out, jumbled, in disarray, and there's blood everywhere. Blood dripping out of the files, pools of blood around each of the filing cabinets. Dozens of file cabinets… and a desk, covered in case files."

Susan raked her fingers through his hair slowly, gently. "Now, let your mind create an object. Something you can hold in your hands. Tell me what it looks like... and what it does."

His brows drew together. "There's pain… it's dark, hard, like a basketball, dripping with blood like the files and cabinets."

"Now, do feel my hand on your head? I'm giving you a light to help illuminate the room. Tell me what you see."

His face relaxed, and the corners of his lips turned up into a slight smile. "I see the light. It's warm, bright, and it's covering the object in my hand. It's... impaled with knives. The handles are covering the entire surface. The light is all around and inside the object. It's glowing, still dripping blood, but not as much. It's… it's pulling the blood from the floor, cabinets, and files."

Susan spread her fingers over the top of his head, massaging gently, still talking quietly. "Tell me what's happening now."

He nodded, slowly. "I'm pulling the knives out… each time, the light... heals the cut… it seals the wound. The knives disappear from my hand as I pull them out." He smiled, blissful and calm. "The knives are gone now. It's glowing; there's no more pain, no more blood dripping. The light is... is warm and beautiful."

"Can you tell what the object in your hands is? If you need more light in the room, you can turn it up."

Spencer, with his eyes still closed, put his hand on hers, on his chest. His index finger was rhythmically tapping on his chest. "It's bright in the room... warm. It's… a heart... and it's beating. It's my heart… and now it's... in my chest, still glowing. The light fills the room, and now… inside me."

"Try opening a file cabinet, now. Tell me what you see."

"I can open drawers easily. The files are neat and organized. There's no more blood. Looking at a file, the information is there... the pictures... forms, and the pain is gone."

"Now, you should be able to recall the information from the cases without the pain. Do you feel it?"

He nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Spencer, tell me what the room looks like now."

"The walls, the floor, and ceiling… are all clean and bright. Even the desk is clean. I can see the light shining in every part of the room." His smile was relaxed.

"Now, how do you feel?"

He smiled wider. "I feel great." He opened his eyes, smiling up at Susan. "That was amazing."

"Mmm, you did it. I was merely a guide."

"Interesting." He sat up, holding her snugly against him.

Susan moved her leg over as her arms closed around him. She kissed him. "Again, I wouldn't do this for anyone else but you." Grinning, she slid her other leg around him. "It's a good thing we don't have to get up early tomorrow…"