Monday evening, 7pm, and Spencer Reid was standing where he never expected to be. On the front steps of a frat house, ready to ring the bell, fully anticipating being allowed entry. How things changed.
The road to this stoop was a little bizarre. If he understood the explanation correctly SSA Hotchner's brother was having problems with some complicated math course and had told the senior agent's wife, who told 'Hotch', who asked Gideon to ask him if he would see if he could help. In return for which - provided, of course, that he was able to help - the brother would help him move into a place when he found one. A place he wasn't going to be able to find as he was standing on the steps of a frat house.
Quite why it had to be tonight, 'Tuesday's go missing' not being particularly illuminating as far as explanations go, was still up for debate. Maybe it would all become clear. All Spencer wanted to do was get this over with. His stammered explanation that there was no guarantee that he would be able to help had fallen on ears that had been walking away.
So, best case scenario is that everyone is out and he can say that he came - then just forget about the whole thing and go back to trying to avoid being noticed by Derek Morgan. Worst case, and therefore, by dint of the over-riding power of Murphy, the most likely, scenario the questions are in a branch of mathematics he'd never studied and Spencer would like an idiot in front of the proxy of a man who could wreak his career before it started.
He did have to ring the bell first though.
Unsurprisingly, for a frat, the bell was obnoxious in its tone. Too late to back out now and claim that he'd been unable to find the place - that genius didn't mean you had a good sense of direction.
The door opened and Spencer was faced with the next dilemma; addressing a wall of sports shirted muscle that invariably turned out to be a bully. 'FBI. You are a special agent of the FBI. If you can't talk to one college student how are you supposed to be able to take down an unsub?'
"Hello." OK, so not quite conversation but it served as on opener.
"Hi." Perfect, a monosyllabic response.
"I'm looking for Sean Hotchner?" Spencer kicked himself mentally for the question in the remark.
The door opened wider and an arm thicker than Spencer's leg waved him in. Ten steps forward and the door shut again with a thud, making him jump. Then the vocal projection inherent in the other man's frame was realised as he bellowed to the house.
"Sean! Your boyfriend's here."