Gravity

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Criminal Minds'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Two: Unexpected

Spencer started at Caltech when he was thirteen years old. He gained a mentor there, a man by the name of Charles Cooper, who taught him many things, and introduced him to many more. Among them was martial arts, with the focus of self-discipline and meditation, to calm his mind, to strengthen his body, and to balance the trichotomy that defined him: his mind, his body, and his soul.

Over a decade later, Spencer still practised the three martial arts he'd been introduced to, had ingrained all three into his muscle memory, and was classified as a fourth degree black belt in all three forms. He was unsure of the existence of the eternal soul, but the familiar motions slowed down his mind, allowed him to relax into the moment, and therefore, he had no plans to stop practising.

When he was younger, and still to this day, the tenants of Tae Kwon Do and of Karate had appealed to him greatly, so he'd not hesitated to immerse himself in both forms, in their philosophies and histories and the cultures both originated from.

Judo had been taken up when he was sixteen, a hobby more than anything else, after a whirlwind summer, , when he'd thirsted for another change. It was mildly more combative than the former two, but the skills had helped him excel in the FBI Academy's hand to hand combat classes, and it also helped him vent out his aggression, scarce as those occasions happened to be.

That particular summer had been the catalyst of massive change in a younger Spencer Reid's life. He'd spent it in California with his family, had applied for and had been accepted into an intensive lifesaving course that saw him make some of the most loyal of lifelong friends. He'd grown and changed, broken out of his shell, experienced a fleeting summer romance with a girl he'd lost touch with shortly thereafter, and the peak of change came with the sudden, unforeseen death of his mentor, only a week before his return to school.

Reid had not been the same after the summer, more intense in his focus, more determined to thrive in everything he'd set his mind to. To this day, he maintained his lifesaving qualifications, kept his body in peak physical condition, devoted his full attention on his relationships, on his work, on his training, and on his part time studies.

But then there were those days where he needed to be alone, when work was particularly hellish, and he was simply too tired - physically, mentally, emotionally - to devote all of his focus to those who deserved nothing less from him - Caitlyn, specifically - and like all of the other such days before it, Spencer had opted to retreat to the dojo to reacquire some peace of mind. Cate was at work, and he'd had the day off anyway, the chores were up to date, and so Spencer passed through the forms without thought, without worry, and by the time he'd come to a stop, he was sweating and his muscles ached from the workout, but he was relaxed, he was calm, and he was confident in his ability to devote his all to his various personal and professional commitments.

Because he'd acquired what he'd come for, Spencer checked out of the dojo, paid the requisite five dollars, and took comfort in the knowledge that due to his membership package, the place would always be open to him. It also included a fully stocked gym, but Spencer only ever used it on Saturdays, and he had no real desire to break his routine more than he already had that week.

Therefore, he returned home, folded the laundry Cate had put in the dryer that morning, stored it all away, and settled comfortably in the living room to work on the academic work he'd neglected.

Contrary to popular belief, he didn't have an apartment, and particularly a living room, made up entirely of textbooks and fifteenth century literature. Not only would Caitlyn pitch a fit, but Spencer himself wouldn't be able to handle the clutter, and neither of them would be able to entertain guests.

Which, bizarrely, they seemed to do frequently.

instead, an entertainment system was set up parallel from a leather sectional sofa, but on either side of the television screen, he'd arranged a set of shelves. One set was made up of he and Caitlyn's 'can't do without' books, the other of CD and DVD cases, but the greater majority of his collection was in Nevada, in his childhood home there, and the greater majority of Caitlyn's was in Colorado, stored in boxes in her parents' basement.

Maybe one day, in a bigger place all their own, they'd be able to store both of their complete sets together, but for the time being, their comfortable, two bedroom apartment worked for them, and as far as Spencer was aware, neither he and Caitlyn were inclined to change the arrangement. Not anytime soon, in any case.

Spencer worked through the afternoon, with the same kind of diligence he devoted to catching unsubs, and by the time evening fell, he'd at least powered through all of his assigned readings. He'd leave the minor assignment tasks to the following day, and make some headway with his essay as well, but for now, there was something far more interesting that had taken hold of his attention.

"I'm home," Caitlyn declared, and behind her, the door clicked shut, the deadbolt clicked in place, and Spencer's shoulders eased.

He smiled. "Welcome home. How was your day?"

Caitlyn leant over the back of the sectional, kissed his cheek, and headed for their bedroom. The smell of her hair, and the anti-bacterial scent of hospitals everywhere, lingered, and her voice carried from their ensuite bathroom.

"It was long, but Dr Steinburg is pleased with my work, and is confident I'll pass my residency exams."

"of course you will," Spencer acknowledged from the living room, "How could you not?"

The question was valid. She had the same memory as him, and would probably have the same IQ score as well, if she'd not gotten bored halfway through the test and flubbed the remaining questions, just so she could leave sooner.

She'd finished high school at fourteen, received her PhD in Psychology by eighteen, and was now working on her MD, with Neurological Surgery as her field of focus, and with plans to receive her PhD's in Chemistry and Physics by the time she reached thirty.

"You seem so certain." She settled beside him on the couch, dressed comfortably in sweats and one of his old Caltech t-shirts, and spared a moment to register that he had switched on Ghost Busters.

"That's because I am," he answered, draped an arm across her shoulders, and curled a lock of her hair around his index finger. "I can understand why you're anxious though."

She hummed her reply, dropped her feet into his lap, and mused over what they should order for dinner. He massaged her feet as she did so, not really interested in the task, but aware that Caitlyn had been on her feet for the greater majority of her day, and could use the care.

"Chinese?"

"Sounds good," he agreed, and Caitlyn proceeded to order their usual. When she was done, she flopped back against the arm of the chair, stared at the ceiling, and luxuriated in her foot massage.

Their intercom buzzed, Spencer excused himself to let the delivery kid into the building, and shuffled into the bedroom to retrieve his wallet. He returned in time to see Caitlyn swing the apartment door open, blink bemusedly at the sight of the man that was most certainly not their usual delivery boy, and he watched, kind of speechless, as Derek Morgan looked between himself and Caitlyn, Caitlyn hid herself behind the door, and an obnoxiously wide smile lit up Garcia's face.

"Well, this is awkward," Elle quipped behind the pair, and beside her, JJ hid a smile of her own behind her hand.

"I'll say," Cate agreed, "Um… come on in."

Dazed, and uncomfortably aware of the fact that he had traded courtesy for comfort, and was thus clad in nothing but a pair of worn, low-slung sweats and square rimmed glasses, Spencer dropped his wallet to the hallway table, gestured for his colleagues to make themselves comfortable in the living room, and shuffled into the kitchen behind Caitlyn. He picked up their cordless landline and he took the opportunity to change their order to allow for four more diners, as Cate herself proceeded to rapidly sign at him, a mildly panicked expression on her face.

He couldn't blame her.

They'd agreed to keep their professional and personal lives separate years ago, primarily because Spencer's job was dangerous, and the risk that work would one day follow him home was always present. He had figured that the less people who'd known about his involvement with Cate, the less likely she would be targeted. It had been a comfort, if a feeble one, and neither had been prepared for their boat to be rocked - or rather - to capsize so suddenly.

He signed back that he had no idea why they were currently in their apartment, shrugged helplessly, and after a brief retreat into his bedroom to retrieve a shirt, he trudged to the living room. Behind him, Caitlyn remained in their bedroom, and Spencer only hoped she wouldn't take forever to get changed. .

"Nice digs, kid," Morgan complimented, "Less books than I expected."

Spencer stared down at the coffee table, cluttered with textbooks and printouts, his laptop and the various remotes they'd collected, and fancied he could feel his walls crumbling around his ears.

In front of him, his colleagues' gazes burned like iron brands into his skin, and he firmed his resolve. If his friends - and they were friends - had to find out, than they'd find out everything. It was the least he could do, if nothing else.

"We wouldn't have room for all of our respective collections, and we didn't want to favour one over the other, so we picked a hundred of our respective favourites, and all the rest are… not here."

"Alright, well I'm just going to address the elephant in the room. Who's the woman who answered the door?"

Unsurprised that it was Elle who'd raised the question, Spencer glanced up, smiled fondly, and met Cate's eyes over his friends' shoulders. She was stood in the doorway, arms crossed over the front of her sweater dress, and even without makeup, with her hair in a haphazard bun and with tired bags under her eyes, she was the prettiest woman in the room.

"Everyone, meet my fiancé, Caitlyn Masters."