Chapter 02

Needles & Pins Boutique
Georgetown
Washington DC

He did not believe he was doing this. He did not believe he could do this. How the hell did he ever let Garcia talk him into trying a second date with Claire.

He walked down the street carrying lunch in a paper sack. He'd thought of a picnic basket, but perhaps that would be too pretentious? A cooler would show too much interest, too much investment. He wanted this to look casual, simple, easy. The problem being that it wasn't. Not at all. It had been two days and in that time he had not stopped thinking about her. Even work wasn't enough to keep her from creeping in around the edges, what would she think of this case? What would she say to that discussion? By now this had far too much riding on it to be at all casual or easy.

He turned the corner at the salon, walked into the courtyard, and quickly realized that it wasn't going to be nearly as casual or easy as he had hoped. At all.

The small jewel box of a shop was packed with people, women mostly. There were tables in the front showing off the wares from one company, and people working as reps clearly talking up their products. Further in it looked like Claire was the only one manning the cash register and she was working at top speed to keep the line moving. All thoughts of a casual little back room picnic went right out of his head.

As he tried to get in the door a small cluster of women pushed their way out, bags and all, shoving him against the door frame. He felt his head dislodge something on the frame behind him, but had to wait for them all to get out of the way. He rescued the sliver of a porcelain box, noted the tiny holes where it had been nailed to the door frame, the blue Star of David pattern. Oh. Taking it with him he threaded his way in to the shop.

There was barely any room to even get close to the register, but he managed eventually. "Hi." Was all he could get out before the next matron pushed her way to the front. As soon as she was done he passed over the small box. "I knocked this off the door, I'm sorry."

"Oh, no worries. I'll put it back up at some point." She tucked the mezuzah into the cash register for safe keeping and turned to the waiting customer.

At the next break he held up the bag. "I brought lunch."

"Thank you. I wish I had time to eat it. But the first chance I get I have to go upstairs and restock." She motioned him around to her side of the counter. "I am so sorry, Penny is going to be so mad at me for this. I swear I am never doing a trunk show again"

Spencer put the bag on the back counter next to the vase of wildflowers he'd sent, followed by his satchel, which he topped with his jacket. All the people in this tiny shop made it impossibly warm, perhaps that was why he could smell her perfume so clearly, something powdery and soft. "What can I do to help?"

"Really?" She looked at him doubtfully, but after making change clearly decided to take him up on the offer. "Go upstairs and bring down every box of Noro Silk Garden you can find. Oh, and there's a fridge in the office for lunch, I don't know when I'll be able to stop and eat." She was already turning to the next customer.

"All right." At least he'd be in the same building with her. He turned on his heel and headed up the stairs two at a time.

"Shut the door! Quick!"

Five hours later and the last customer finally left. Spencer shut the door behind her, almost catching her finely knitting car coat in the process. He turned the sign to 'closed' and turned back to face her. "Wow. I am so sorry. This did not work out the way I planned." He'd planned for something romantic that seemed spontaneous. This just showed how well that worked for him.

"Oh, it's not your fault. It was just crazy here today." She made it around to the back room on shaky, tired legs and found the bag he'd brought in earlier. "What did you bring me?"

"Chicken salad. It's not kosher, I didn't know."

"That's all right, I don't keep kosher." She smiled. "My sister put the mezuzah up. Do you mind eating in the back instead of going somewhere? I just want to sit for a while and put my feet up."

"No, not at all." He followed her through the tiny back room-slash-office and out to a slightly larger patio in the back, just enough room for a table and four chairs, and a fence covered with flowers and vines. The sun was just starting to set, the air was warm, and there was a dish of candles on the table. "I'm just glad I could help."

"I was surprised that you stayed. Most guys would have run screaming from that mob scene in there."

"No, I've seen worse." Have someone play Russian Roulette while you're tied to a chair, and suddenly a mob of yarn shoppers isn't so bad. Spencer settled back in his chair and unwrapped his sandwich. "I grew up in Las Vegas. You get used to crowds there,"

"Really? A desert creature then? Do you still have family there?"

Interesting turn of the phrase. "Yeah, my mom. She, uh, is in a care facility there."

"Oh. I'm sorry." She gave her soda an awkward frown.

"It's all right. She's been there a while now, she's doing quite well." So long as she stays on her meds, he thought. "How about you? You said you have a sister?"

Claire nodded, setting her curls dancing. "I have two sisters and four brothers. Foster brothers and sisters, actually."

"That matters?"

"It does when I tell people that some of them are married to each other." She flashed a grin. "If it wasn't for the foster bit that would be a little odd."

"True." Then ate in silence for a moment, while he waited for her to say something about parents. When she didn't he was going to ask, but then they heard the sound of the bells on the shop door.

Claire frowned at the sound. "Did you lock it?" she half whispered, half mouthed.

Spencer frowned and got up, motioning her behind him. What was worse was that his sidearm was in his bag, hidden under his jacket on the back counter. Idiot, he thought, as he headed for the front of the shop, picking up something that looked solid and heavy as he went. Morgan will never let me live this down.

Sure enough, there was someone riffling through the till. "FBI! Hands in the air!" he called out automatically. But the guy took one look and bolted toward the still open door, knocking over displays as he went. Spencer tried to make it through the rubble, but he tripped over one fallen stand and went down in a heap of thread and yarn. A moment later the guy turned the corner and was gone

I keep having to apologize, he thought, maybe it's a sign. "I'm sorry." He said, as he watched the locals work the scene, the crowd outside, the flash of the red and blue lights on the walls. "I didn't even think about locking the door."

"It's all right, I've forgotten before myself. Please be careful! That's silk!" She hurried forward to collect some of the fallen threads but it was too late, they were irretrievably crushed beneath the heavy treads of the officer's shoes. She gathered them up anyway, and sighed.

"Tell me there's something I can do. Let me replace what he took." The thief had cleaned out everything she made off the massive sale that day, and all he could give was the briefest description. Tall, skinny, Caucasian, jeans, work jacket, boots. The distinctive pockmarks of meth addiction. A junkie looking for money for a fix, odds were he wouldn't be back. But she lost the money because of me, he thought, and now she's losing inventory too. I am the ultimate relationship bad luch charm, I swear.

"No. You don't have to. That's what I have an older brother for, he'll keep me afloat." Spencer watched as Claire looked around the shop with tired eyes. "My goodness, this is a mess, isn't it?"

"At least let me come by tomorrow and help you clean it up." Let me do that much for you, he thought, please.

Maybe she could read his mind. She looked over at him and smiled. "Deal. I'm closing tomorrow, and I won't be here too early. But afterwards maybe we can finally finish a meal together,"

"Cool." I screwed up and now I'm getting rewarded. That makes no sense at all. "I should stay and walk you home."

"Nope, the officers already offered to drive me. Besides, it's only around the corner. You should go do the ream of paperwork I'm sure someone has waiting for you."

He looked over his shoulder just as Hotch drove up. "Good point. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yes." She squeezed his forearm the first time she touched him, and gave him a warm smile. "And thank you."