She was becoming more distracting. Before long, Riley Parker had found her way into Reid's mind so many times, it was becoming one constant interruption. He was beginning to force himself to concentrate during investigations. None of this had gone unnoticed with the team, either. Many had noticed (and pointed out) it took Reid twice as long as usual when he read over things.
But Sundays were suddenly becoming his salvation and aspiration for the week. No matter how much Dr. Parker seemed to dislike him, he still wanted to be around her. The more she slighted him and the more insults she threw at him, the more he wanted her.
That didn't make any sense.
He awoke to the sounds of stifled laughter. He must have fallen asleep on the plane ride back to Quantico. Emily, J.J. and Morgan all sat around him. Rossi was reading closer to the front of the plane and Hotch, too, was sleeping at a distance from the group. A pile of playing cards littered the table between the four.
"Hey," Morgan said softly. "Sleep well, buddy?"
He rubbed the sleep from his face as he spoke. "I meant to just rest my eyes for a minute, how long was I out?"
"About twenty minutes." Emily said, sharing a glance with Morgan. J.J. was smiling, trying to pay more attention to her cards.
"What?" he asked.
"Dreaming about anything, kid?" Morgan asked.
"Not that I remember, why?"
"Riley," Emily said softly in a mocking cry. "Riley."
"What?"
"You were calling 'Riley' out in your sleep." J.J. said, looking up. "Leave him alone, you guys."
"Who's Riley?" Emily asked.
Before Reid could answer – or deny – Morgan jumped in. "As I recall that's Dr. Parker's first name… and she's your therapist, isn't she?"
"I wasn't dreaming about Dr. Parker." Reid said, sitting up. He pushed back his hair in frustration. "Maybe, if I was, only for the wish that I could get these sessions done and get her and her negative attitude towards me out of my life."
"You had said awhile ago that you have the hots for her."
He was falling deeper into this hole. "I… had a slight attraction to her at first. But that was simply because she's very striking and dazzling and beautiful. Knowing her now, I couldn't begin to be interested in someone even professionally who is so furious or has such a short, hot temper like she does."
"Listen to yourself, Reid! Could you want her more?" Emily hissed. Morgan was trying to stifle his laughter.
"I do not want her!"
"I think she's right, Reid. I don't know one person who describes anyone they don't like with 'striking' and 'dazzling'." J.J. said with a smirk.
"He's going to be sad when these three months are over," Morgan said, laying down a card.
"Guys, just… drop it, okay."
They took the hint and went back to their game, not mentioning it for the rest of the ride. Reid looked at his watch. As he did, he felt a leap in his chest. It had just past midnight. They'd be back home within the hour, and it was only twelve hours until his next session.
…
"Hey, Brianiac," Dr. Parker said as Reid entered the room at noon that day. He didn't bother to knock anymore.
The tension between Reid and Dr. Parker had lifted some since their first session. Reid had begun to trust Dr. Parker a little and started opening up to her, telling her more about his thoughts on the cases they finished and was just about to start discussing more personal parts of his life; at least, that's what she suspected. As for her attitude, it had taken a turn for the better. She had come in the habit of calling him "Brianiac" every time she greeted him. He didn't want to admit he liked it.
"Hello, Dr. Parker," he said, coming in to take a seat. He waited while she finished riffling through her file cabinets, admiring her every move.
"I was just about to run and grab a soda, can I get you one?" she asked.
"No thanks," he said. "It'll just wind up on the floor if you do."
There was a pause, and Reid was surprised when he heard laughter. She turned back to him with the brightest smile. It was the first time Reid had made her laugh and he'd never heard it quite like that. A thought struck his head. If stars could make a noise when they twinkled… that would be it.
Oh god, what is the matter with you? He asked himself.
"I'll be right back, kiddo," she said through her laughter while heading out into the corridor, closing the door behind her.
Reid was alone. Finally, a real chance to take in Dr. Parker's office. There was a desk next to her private bathroom which door was left open. The desk looked neat, orderly. From the look of the rest of the room, Reid knew she didn't use her desk very much, if at all.
From there, his eyes danced quickly to the counter top, holding the coffee pot and such accouterments, over to the large book shelves. They were packed with books. Reid caught a few of the titles, some were too small to read. The ones he saw where psych books. Criminally insane, child psychology, victim psychology, etc. The walls were a creamy color, lighter than the carpet, with four or five posters of different Broadway musicals lining the walls – she was a fan of Andrew Lloyd Weber.
That's when Reid looked at the coffee table. The same papers were always in disarray. Glancing at the door, Reid riffled through them and took the F.B.I. issued brown folder and read.
Fueller, George Harrison:
Age: 47 Sex: Male DOB: 11/13/1962
He turned the page in order to skip the rest of the basic information and read. The first set of handwriting was knew, probably a man's, and sloppy. Stating when the man had been admitted and what crimes. A sexual sadist, capturing girls between the ages of 16 and 21, holding them captive, torture and rape them, and, after three nights, kill them. He'd been responsible for 15 deaths. Was granted the insanity plea and sentenced to Havensall Hospital for the Criminally Insane. This doctor's opinion was Fueller needed close, attentive medical care in order to be rehabilitated. High hopes for being released at parole hearing.
Then the handwriting changed, which happened when doctors left or retired or passed away. Reid knew this writing immediately.
Dr. Parker was on a different side of the fence with George Harrison Fueller. She believed there was no hope for rehabilitation. Fueller was a dangerous man and, if released, would return directly to hurting and killing women. Six months ago, in order to prepare for the hearing, the head doctor at Havensall wanted to transfer Fueller to a minimum security hospital or even a halfway house, but she convinced them it wasn't a wise idea.
Reid flipped the page where the prescription history was logged. He'd had a drastic change in meds over the last few months, but he couldn't find a reason why. There had to be logged information for it… which meant there was something missing from this folder.
With the sound the door opening again, Reid quickly closed the file shut and shoved it under the heap of papers and notes. He hoped she didn't have in tuned profiling skills and notice the difference.
"You look tired," she said, taking a seat in her usual arm chair, perpendicular to him, and set her unopened Diet Pepsi down. She grabbed her glasses from the table and slid them on, letting them nestle on the bridge of her nose, giving the aura of a sexy librarian. Reid couldn't take his eyes off her.
"I could say the same about you. At least I have an excuse."
"I have an excuse, too," she said, not taking her eyes from organizing the notes she was managing in order to get started. "What's yours?"
"We flew back from Portland, Maine early this morning. I didn't get home until about 2 a.m."
She remained absent minded through their casual conversation, never once glancing at him. "Tough case?"
"It's always tough when it involves kids." He said. "It was a… pedophilia case."
At that, she stopped herself and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "That's awful. How can anyone hurt a child like that?"
"You sound like a mother," Reid said. He knew she wasn't married, since her ring finger had always been bare. "Do you have children?"
"No," she said, shaking her head, looking back at the work. "But I'm told I'd be a natural. I have a lot of… motherly qualities, I guess. I don't know how that happened; my mother isn't exactly a role model in that department."
So that's where the issues began. "I suspected that."
"What do you mean?" she asked, curiosity shining in brown eyes as they made contact with his.
"Women who express a cold personality, especially to strangers, usually have deep rooted issues with their mothers. It's seen a lot in professional women. They usually focus more on careers than marriage and children of their own."
She sat with her mouth open now, shocked. "Are you… did you just say I was cold?"
"No!" Reid exclaimed, unbelieving he'd just said that. "I mean, I didn't intend to say that. You're… you're not cold, I just meant hypothetically, women tend to fall into that."
"Okay, then. Hypothetically, you think I'm an unfeeling person."
"No, I didn't say that. I didn't even mean that."
"You think that because a woman doesn't marry the first jackass who walks into her life or decides she wants a better life than every single woman still stuck in the town she grew up in doesn't care or feel for anything? You think that just because you're handsome, a girl should be falling all over herself to impress you!"
"Riley, I didn't mean that at all! Not any of it-"
"Don't you dare call me Riley!" she yelled. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, the anxious silence filling the room. She patted the papers to settle neatly in her hands. "Dr. Reid, I think you need to leave."
He was stunned. He had slipped up before and said things he had really meant that should have been kept quiet. Often it happened to cops and suspects while working on cases. But he hadn't meant Dr. Parker was cold.
Especially now when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes.
"You need to leave. Now." She said again, trying to stay calm.
Reid nodded. He wanted to say he was sorry, especially seeing how much he had hurt her. He wanted to help her with whatever problem the Fueller file was apart of. He wanted to tell her how crazy he was becoming over her.
But instead, he stood, walked to the door, and left.
Riley threw her glasses onto the coffee table, the papers she laid neatly on the others. The tears didn't spill out as soon as the doors closed. Riley walked to her desk for a tissue and dabbed them dry. Alone, she managed to compose herself without any hysterics. After about fifteen minutes, certain she was completely collected, she sat back in her chair. It really wasn't Dr. Reid's fault he felt that way, she hadn't exactly been herself lately, not with everything about to pile down on her. She had been treating him poorly since he'd first knocked her down at the restaurant.
She smiled, remembering. Had she not been so stressed that day, she probably would have thought it was funny. Riley would apologize next week and explain everything to him then. Who knew, maybe the intelligent (and handsome) Dr. Reid had a point.
"He's not that handsome." She said to herself, forcing her feelings away. The same feelings she'd been forcing away since the sessions began.
