Chapt 7: Dining with Dreams
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"Hi. I hope I'm not too early or anything."
"No, of course not. Come on in." Ashlyn eyed her guest as he entered. God, he gets more gorgeous every time I see him. "I was just working on the salad."
"Can I do anything?"
"Sure," she smirked a mischievous smirk, "you can keep me company." With that she strolled off to the kitchen.
"Is that manicotti? Smells wonderful. It's interesting that even with manicotti being the American term it still has an Italian translation; though I've always preferred cannelloni."
"Yes, 'big reeds' does make much more since than 'muffs', besides that makes me think I should be wearing dinner instead of eating it." She stopped in mid-chop, ignoring her tomatoes and setting the knife down on the cutting board, "Sorry, about that. Fount of useless information. Sometimes I forget not everyone is as fascinated by minutia as me."
Spencer let out a mute chuckle and smiled broadly causing his already stark facial features to sharpen further, "Not a problem. Normally, that's my job. I have a tendency to over explain."
Ashlyn relaxed a bit and went back to the tomatoes, "When someone asks you what time it is you tell them how to make a watch."
"I'm more likely to tell them the history of it."
They both laughed.
"Hand me the salad bowl… Thanks." Ashlyn tossed the remainder of the salad makings together. "Here," she handed Spencer the bowl, "take this and go on and have a seat. I'll bring the rest out."
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"This is wonderful." Gooey cheese hung from his fork as he lifted another portion of manicotti to his lips.
"Thanks. I don't often have an excuse to cook proper meals, let alone share them with people."
Chuckling, "I think I live on leftovers and take-out,"
"Ah, student food."
"Is it?"
Ashlyn cocked an eye at him trying to decide if her companion was joking with her or not. "Well, that or top ramen."
"Yeah, I remember top ramen and cup o' noodle. Not that you could actually call them nourishment, but the carbs kept you going."
"Still keeps some of us…," she allowed herself a small chuckle. "I guess take-out is an upgrade and it makes sense if you're always on-call."
Spencer eyed Ashlyn, not sure what she was getting at. "I've never heard it referred to as 'on-call'. It's an appropriate parallel though."
Giving up on tack she dove in head first, "So, are you ever going to tell me what it actually is that you do? Or should I start guessing?"
Spencer had been dreading this moment. He had no idea how she would react and his incredible mind offered no shortage of unpleasant options. Gulping he aimlessly stabbed at his empty plate, "I'm a criminal profiler."
"Really?"
He barely nodded, too anxious to look at her or speak.
"Wow. That's impressive. Federal or local?"
"Um, Federal." Surprise covered Spencer's face as he looked up and saw genuine interest in Ashlyn's eyes and not one hint of disgust.
"FBI? No, wonder you came down to check on me." Ashlyn shock her head, "You really do tilt at windmills." Eyeing her guest closely her brain did the math, "Hold on, when did you graduate?"
"I was 15 when I got my first Ph.D."
Ashlyn almost choked on her soda, "First? How many do you have?"
"Three."
"And you were 15, Jesus, that's… remarkable."
Spencer took a sip of his drink. He wanted to ask Ashlyn about their first meeting, about the scream, the 'nightmare', but the last thing he wanted to do was offend her. Then again she had broached the subject, however briefly. After taking another contemplative sip, " I was wondering if I could ask about the other night?"
Ashlyn smiled sheepishly, "I truly am sorry about that. And like I told you then, it was just a dream, well more a nightmare really. No big deal."
Reid was quiet for a moment as he studied his companion. "I know about nightmares."
Silently, Ashlyn got up and began to clear the table. She was thinking about her 'dreams' and what caused them and what Spencer must have gone through as a child. It made her even more ashamed of her own problems in that area. She was leaning on the counter next to the sink when Spencer joined her. "Do you ever dream about your childhood? You know the things that the other kids did to you?"
A true sadness crept over Spencer and his eyes sullenly slipped to the floor, "Of course I do." The acknowledgement was just above a whisper. It wasn't a topic he liked to think about, let alone talk about.
Realizing an intense conversation was coming, Ashlyn moved to sit on her plush sofa, and indicated that Spencer should do the same.
Ashlyn sat facing Reid, one leg bent under the other with her hands holding the bent leg tightly. A position Spencer recognized immediately as a subconscious defense.
Letting out a troubled breath, Ashlyn quietly spoke, "I have a problem with kids. Terrified of them actually." Her eyes were locked on her hands much the way Spencer's had been to the floor only moments before.
She waited for the laughter. They always laughed. She understood why- a grown woman with a fear of children was hard to take seriously.
But Spencer didn't laugh; he moved closer to her and placed a warm hand on hers. "What did they do?"
With that simple question Ashlyn's eyes filled with tears and as she spoke they began to shed. "Probably the same things they did to you. Beatings, humiliations, and when you went to the adults, the people who were supposed to protect you, they tell you that you deserve it for not fitting in and label you the trouble-maker…" Her breath was becoming ragged and she paused attempting to steady it.
The psychologist in Spencer couldn't help but noticed how her tenses kept floating back to the present rather than the past, showing just how close to the surface those 'old' wounds were.
"There wasn't anyplace safe for me; except the libraries. But eventually they even took that away." She tried to smile as she looked up and met Spencer's deep brown eyes, "Guess that's why I'm studying to be a librarian- it's still the safest place."
Reid couldn't help it, he understood too much and too deeply what Ashlyn felt and he realized that he could do for her what he'd so often longed for in his childhood. Leaning forward, he wrapped his long arms around her muttering soothing words as he stroked her hair.
