"In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,
and in the convulsive rapture of a kiss,
Thus doth love speak"

– Ella Wheeler

As much as Reid enjoyed their conversations, he enjoyed their silences too. Monica wasn't one of those people who got uncomfortable when there was no talking.
She was working away in her garden on a Saturday morning, while Reid watched her closely. Her lawn was as green as it could be. Including the area of the house, the property was large enough to measure almost half an acre.
"Do all botanists love gardening?", he broke the silence.
Monica answered him, without looking up,
"This one does. To be honest with you, lately I don't care for botany much. I just want to plant trees wherever I can. Resurrect a forest maybe. I don't even know what I'll do if they offer me a permanent position at the university"
"Will you be able to afford the house without a job?"
"This one? It's mine, fully paid for. I bought it just last year. It was available for half its price because of some haunting or such, and the actual rooms in the house being quite small. But", she rose, "I bought it for the yard, not for its interior. Do you see that patch over there? I'm going to plant a wisteria on it. I have always wanted one. It won't take to this soil readily, but I don't mind a challenge"
It seemed to him what she really wanted was her own private forest. But he said nothing.
"Shall we go in?", Monica took off her hat.
Her green eyes looked like crystals sometimes. The red spots on her cheeks from working in the sun reminded her of the term "sun-kissed". For the love of god, he didn't know why, he found Monica mercilessly attractive when she was under the sun.
But he said nothing about that either. He followed her into the house instead.

After lunch, they sat on the couch watching a soap opera she hated. Reid shared some factoids about the inaccuracies in the show every now and then. As long as her head was on his shoulder and his arm was around her, Monica didn't seem to mind his chatter.
She asked him during the commercial,
"Did you bring the photos I asked you to?"
"Yeah. They are in my bag. Will you tell me why you want them?"
"Nope. But thanks. I'll make some copies and give 'em back to you soon"

Reid thought nothing of the whole photograph thing until Monica was at his place for dinner one night. He didn't like having her over at first when his mother was there. She had been doing better, but she still didn't take to strangers. Yet Monica insisted on meeting Diana whenever she could. With an amount of patience he could only marvel at, within three months, Monica had worn down Professor Reid and befriended her.
"Jennifer, why did you color your hair?"
They had just finished dinner when his mother confused Monica to be JJ. But Monica was patient as ever.
"I'm Monica, Professor Reid. I look like Jennifer a bit but I'm not", she said.
There was not even the slightest resemblance between the two, but Reid trusted Monica to know what she was doing.
"Yes. Monica. Monica, yes", Diana smiled, "Spencer's girlfriend. Of course, I remember you. Forgive me. I am not good with faces these days"
Monica smiled good-naturedly and brought out something from her bag. It was a photo album, or a scrapbook.
"I made this for you", she handed the book to Diana.
Reid looked questioningly at Monica but her attention was on his mother.
"It's to help you remember who's who. Everyone in your life - the staff at your place, your friends, Spencer's friends - they are all in here. Whenever you can't recall someone's name, you can refer to this. I have also put in some interesting facts about everyone that you can surprise them with"
With bated breath, Monica and Reid half expected her to throw the book against the wall and tell them off. But Diana seemed grateful for it. She kept leafing through the pages.
"How thoughtful of you, dear. Thank you. Oh look, here's Jennifer! She has two boys?"
They stood up when Diana did, clutching the book to her chest. She patted Monica's cheek,
"This was so nice of you. I am going to put it somewhere safe, so I don't misplace it. I will... such a nice present"
Diana left for her room.

Spencer felt full. Like he was about to burst at the seams with whatever pleasant feeling was flooding his heart. And it was likely that the explosion would be directed at Monica.
There she stood, with her satisfied smile and her lovely face. He had seen the scrapbook. It must have taken her days to make it.
Why in the world did she go out of her way to make his life richer and happier, he couldn't fathom.
He was in utter awe of her.
"I'm so relieved she liked it", she said with a big smile.
When he tried to move, he feared that thing within him would spill. But he had to.

Closing the distance between himself and Monica, Spencer stood in front of her until their feet were touching.
Daring enough, he kissed her on the cheek. Her skin smelled like tuberose and coconut. And for the first time in their relationship, she was the one who looked vulnerable.
"Thank you", he whispered.
Her eyes were fixated on his lips. Reid could feel her sweet breath on him. It was all a bit overwhelming, especially the unknown desire he felt all of a sudden.
"It was nothing", she said softly.
Spencer reached forth a little. Just enough for their lips to graze each other. It wasn't even a kiss but he wanted to do it again.
And he did.

His mouth caught her surprised gasp with an intensity he rarely displayed. Spencer kissed her and held her like she would slip through his embrace. He wouldn't let that happen. Not her.
Oh god please, not her.
The sudden ferocity of his caresses was such that Monica was driven against the couch and almost fell down. He withdrew long enough to say,
"Sorry"
"It's oka-"
He kissed her again, held her so tight her back arched. He felt possessed. Not by a spirit, but by a surging desire to have her close, so close they would become one.
"Spencer? Have you seen my glasses?", his mother called.
Feeling like something was being torn out of him, he let go off Monica. They panted for breath together. He took one glance at her lips that he had reddened, and excused himself. He wouldn't realise until much later what he had just felt with such force.

Love.
It was the beginning of love.