This was so, incredibly awkward.
Mireille attempted to focus on the task at hand. Her hands slightly shaking as she wrapped the last of the flowers for the crown. However, she couldn't concentrate like she had before.
She darted her eyes to the corner of her vision. The doctor, huddled in a corner sitting upon her crooked old stool was flipping through her binder. Every time he turned the page, the plastic binder sheets would hit one another with a quiet fwip.
Turning her vision forwards, she saw the agent anxiously pacing up and down the store. The hard soles of his heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floors.
The atmosphere was tense. Quiet, only it wasn't. She wasn't sure if she should say anything. After all, they were so focused. But the awkwardness of the silence was driving her half insane. She had to say something. Anything.
"Miss Li?"
"Gah-!"
Mireille jumped in surprise, nearly knocking over the foam mannequin head she was working on. She quickly grabbed it just as it was about to tip over the counter. Sighing in relief that none of her precious blooms had sustained damage from her clumsiness, she carefully set it back upon the counter.
She turned towards the doctor, whose brows were furrowed in what could only be described as concern.
"My apologies. I'm done with your logs," he said, holding out the heavy binder.
"Oh. Thank you."
She took the binder, quickly setting it behind the counter. Now that she was actually talking to someone, she never so desperately wanted to end a conversation. This man just seemed to witness one silly fumble after another with her. The sooner they left, the better.
"You were quiet focused there, weren't you?" he asked inquisitively, glancing at her work. Materials messily spread about the painted wooden counter.
"I tend to get lost in my thoughts sometimes,"she half laughed. Partially turned back to quickly organize the mess while still remaining half turned towards the doctor as to not seem rude.
"You were earlier too. You hadn't even heard us come in," he said. He seemed to be holding back a humored smile, but Mireille could only feel her face flush. Thinking of the embarrassing first interaction she had with these federal agents.
"I'm sorry about punching you earlier by the way."
She cast her glance aside, not wanting to look at his face lest he realized how embarrassed she was about that.
"Don't worry. I've suffered worse."
He sounded humored. Was he humored by the situation? Though, it was better than him being angry, she supposed.
"I'm not in trouble for hitting an FBI agent, am I?" she said in a lighthearted manner, only half seriously-asking.
"No worries, Miss Li. It was an accident."
She looked up at his face, The corners of his lips were slightly upturned, his eyes softening. He had a nice smile, she would give him that. She turned back to her work, carefully picking up a few small red blooms to place together.
The silence had returned. Though for some reason, it did not feel as awkward as before. This silence was comfortable as Mireille felt some of the previous anxiety and tension melt away.
Carefully wrapping the stems in floral tape, as to not crush the fragile blooms. Holding the small bunch, she took half a step back to observe how the crown looked from a distance.
"Were you an artist at one point, Miss Li?" Doctor Reid asked.
She couldn't help but turn back towards him. More than a little surprised. She had hardly spoken to this man, yet he had pieced together that part of her without so much as a little conversation.
"How did you know?"
"Well, the attention to detail and the meticulous nature of your handiwork suggest a background in art." He paused, gesturing to the binder sitting on the shelf. "Not to mention the hand drawn floral headers in your logs..."
"Well you've figured me out. I was an artist when I was younger. I used to want to be a painter."
"You didn't attend school for art, did you?"
Mireille simply shook her head.
"Majored in international relations. Funny how life works, huh."
"It's alright. Thirty-two percent of college graduates have never worked in a field related to their major."
"So- you read minds or something?"
"Actually I can figure out different traits of people by examining small traces of evidence about them."
"Is that so? So with this whole store around you must be able to tell a whole lot about me."
Mireille gestured about the room around her, before placing her hands flat on the counter and laughing.
"I can tell you weren't always the sole owner of this shop. The shelves closer to the front suggest a more antiquated sort of taste. These shelves are a completely different style. More suited to someone with a sort of 'cute' taste. Suggesting they were bought by someone completely different. You had run this shop with someone older than you."
"My aunt. She's retired now, and I became the new owner. I'm impressed, Doctor Reid."
"I try."
The silver bell above the door rang, filling the small room with its soft chime. Mireille instinctively turned to the front with a cheerful, "Hi! Welcome in!" before focusing in on who customer was.
He was a sort of scruffy man. Poorly fitted wrinkled clothes covered most of his pale, jaundiced skin. His sunken eyes glanced around the shop as he shuffled his way towards the front.
Mireille lowered her voice to a whisper, subtly pointing at the man when he stopped to look at a display in the wide aisle.
"Doctor Reid, the man I was talking about is here."
"Are you sure?" he whispered back, glancing at the man.
"Like clockwork."
Spencer looked at Derek, who quickly met his gaze. Shooting his eyes over to where the man was, slowly making his way towards the register. Derek gave a small, affirmative nod.
Spencer slipped out from behind the counter, slowly approaching the man as Derek took his other side.
"Sir-" the doctor barely managed to utter out before the man reacted.
"Tell Dunnings I'll give him his money soon. I just need time-" he shouted, taking a step back. "A little bit more time!"
"Sir, we're with the FBI," Derek calmly said, showing the man his badge.
"FBI?" The man's fear quickly turned into a scowl. Curling his lips, his graying brows lowered. "What the hell could you possibly want with me? I ain't done nothin' wrong."
"We just need to ask you a couple of questions." Spencer moved a small step to the side, blocking the man's exit route. "Tell me, do the names Elizabeth Aaron, Joanna Wilkonson, or Renee Privett sound familiar to you?"
"I ain't got nothin' to do with them! Get outta my way!"
The man tried to squeeze his way past Spencer. When he realized he was trapped in, he shoved the agent out of the way, causing Spencer to stumble back a step or two. It definitely hurt less than Mireille's accidental shoulder punch earlier. Though he was more bothered be the amount of germs the man must have spread on him.
Derek, clearly satisfied he finally could apprehend this man with good reason, grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. Thrashing and screaming about how he knew his rights as the agent placed handcuffs around his wrists.
Yet despite being cuffed, he was determined to escape. The man managed to wrangle free from Derek's grasp and attempt to bolt towards the exit. "Attempt" being a keyword as in his mad dash, he managed to run straight into one of Mireille's wire frame shelves.
Things seemed to fall in slow motion before the shelf landed on the floor with a glorious crash. Broken glass and cut flowers scattered across the floor, sitting in an ever expanding puddle of water. Derek managed to grab the man, bleeding from cuts he sustained from the glass shards.
All eyes were on the disastrous display before them. Except for Spencer, who looked at Mireille.
Her eyes were wide with shock, her mouth hanging open as if she meant to speak. But no words came out. Instead, she slowly covered her mouth with her hands.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Li," Derek said softly, restraining the thrashing man.
"It's… It's fine!" she stammered, following with a rather uneasy, unnatural laugh. "If you could just… let me clean up this mess."
Derek look at her with sympathy. Only giving a small nod.
"Of course. Come on."
He forced the man out of the shop. And with the ring of the silver bell above the door, the shop fell silent once again.
Spencer looked at Mireille, who hasn't taken her eyes off the chaos before her. She buried her face on her hands, as if not looking would make the mess go away.
"Are you alright, Miss Li?"
"I've been better," she muttered.
"I'm sorry about your flowers and vases."
Spencer was never any good at offering any sort of emotional condolences. Though Miss Mireille Li seemed upset, it felt only right to at least attempt some sort of comfort.
"Don't worry about it. It's not like it was really your fault anyways. You guys were just doing your jobs." She lowered her hands from her face, looking at the mess with an empty expression. Her eyes blank. "I just need a second to process this…"
"Take your time."
"I think I need to lie down. "Lie down and sleep for a couple of years."
"I understand that is hyperbole, but I would recommend only getting seven to nine hours of sleep a night."
"Ha!" she crowed, cracking a small smile. With a hearty laugh, she folded her arms. Giving a long exhale. "Well… This is nothing I can't handle."
"Could I take your binder by the way? It could be used as evidence."
"Of course."
She reached behind the counter. Quickly grabbing it and holding it out to the agent. Who graciously took it.
"Thank you," he said with a smile.
"No problem." Giving another long breath. She put rolled up her sleeves, putting her hands to her hips. She had an easygoing grin on her face which could only be described as infectious. "Ha… I don't know why I'm smiling. This doesn't seem like something to smile at- does it, Doc?"
"We unconsciously mimic the facial expressions we observe," Spencer replied. He wondered why he said that, it probably wouldn't make her feel much better nor answer her question. Yet, he continued talking. " And when we simulate a perceived facial expression, we partially activate the corresponding emotional state in ourselves. It provides a basis for inferring the underlying emotion of the expresser."
"Is that so…?" she said with a huff, mindlessly staring at the disaster before her.
"Will you be able to clean up this whole mess by yourself?"
"Don't worry about me, I can handle it." She raised her hand, waving it thoughtlessly through the air. "You, on the other hand, better go. Your partner is waiting for you."
"Still… I'm very sorry about your flowers. I wish there was some way I could make up for it."
The woman paused as if to think. Brushing her black hair behind her ear, she remarked with a bit of a snicker: "A cup of good coffee could work. Best stuff you can find."
He smiled, grasping the heavy binder in his hands.
"I'll keep that in mind. ell, take care, Miss Li."
"Thank you, Doctor Reid. Good luck with your case."
And with the ring of the silver bell above the door, she was alone again.
the first two episodes of season 15 have me screaming. and not in a good way. that's why I had a sudden burst of inspiration to finish this chapter :D
Enjoy!
L.D