Chapter 2: I'm Going Slightly Mad

April 21st 7:00 AM

Once Maeve had finished the data analysis and sent it to her department head, she decided to check her messages. She hit the button on her answering machine with the eraser of the pencil she'd been using.

"You have three new messages…" came the automated voice. "First unheard message:"

"Maeve honey, it's your mother… I just wanted to make sure you're ok, call me back if you want to come over for dinner tonight, your father and I would love to have you…bye…"

That was nice of her… Maeve thought. Maybe I should go home for dinner…

"Second unheard message:"

"Dr. Donovan, I was just wondering how soon you might be able to send me those datasheets…" came her boss's voice.

I literally just emailed them to you Maeve thought.

"Third unheard message:" the machine repeated again.

"Hi, my name is Spencer Reid…you don't know me but, I could actually use your help, I've been dealing migraines for over a year now, so far, no one I've talked to has been able to figure out why, let alone how to make them stop. I got your number from an old friend of mine who is familiar with your work, he thought that you might be able to help me…please call me back at 702-555-0103…bye…"

That was interesting, she hadn't done a case study in a while, and she loved helping people… there was something about this man, there had been an almost pleading quality to his voice, yet a humbleness, as if there was a part of him that didn't actually expect her to take his case. Of course she would, finally, something she could do to help someone else, instead of just worrying about her own life…

She played the message again, and wrote down the callback number he'd left her.

…

Spencer Reid's Apartment: April 21st 7:00 AM

When Spencer woke the next morning, it was already seven, most people wouldn't consider that to be having slept in, but for him, it was an hour and a half more than he got on a workday at the best of times. There was just something about sleeping until you would have already been at work on any other day. While he still didn't feel all that great, he pretty much never did these days, he still felt a lot better than he had the previous night. So he got up, made himself a cup of espresso, and decided to delve into the myriad of large books and anthologies he'd gotten from his friends and family for his birthday several months earlier. He just hadn't got around to reading them because most of them were well…massive, so he hadn't brought them with him on away cases for those long plane rides, or sleepless nights in his hotel room, they were simply too big to carry in his messenger bag, and these days, he often returned home without the energy to do so.

He was just getting into chapter five in the latest neuroscience textbook, a gift from a former professor he'd kept in contact with over the years, the same friend who had given him Maeve's number, after explaining that due to some extenuating circumstances, he could only give him her first name. Suddenly, his cellphone started to buzz and ring. He set the book on the coffee table and grabbed it.

"H-hello?" He answered.

"Um..Hi…This is… Maeve…responding to the message you left me." She replied.

They both sounded unsure, almost nervous.

"Yes…Hi…so um…does this mean…?" Reid asked, but she finished the question before he got the chance.

"Does this mean I'm going to help you? I'm certainly going to try…" she told him.

"Thank you, thank you so much…" he replied gratefully.

There was something about her, something Reid couldn't pinpoint, there seemed to be this strange electricity between them, a chemistry that the situation at hand didn't bring to the table.

"You're welcome…Anyway, just because a doctor or even several can't figure it out doesn't mean there's nothing wrong…if your migraines are caused by something genetic, we'll find it… now… you said this has been going on for over a year…right?" she asked.

Without knowing how he knew it, Reid guessed that whatever was going on in her life, whatever was the cause behind her wanting to make herself as hard to find as possible to those who she wasn't already familiar with, was the reason that though she had sensed it too, she seemed, for the time being at least, prepared to ignore it. That was fine, that was a conversation for a later date anyway, if it was to be one at all.

"Since September of two-thousand ten…" he replied, answering the question she'd asked.

"Ok, first things first, we need to narrow down the list of possibilities, for that… I'm going to need you to gather some information for me…" she told him.

"Like what?" he asked, half out of necessity and half out of academic interest, the scientist in him curious to know what sorts of things geneticists took into account.

"Like timeline, exact symptom list, medical and family history…plus as much information as possible about what the people who have already tried to figure out what the problem is, did and didn't look for…if we can narrow it down to a shorter list of possibilities, we can test for them and see what comes up positive…"

"Ok, yeah I can do that…"

"Good…"

"Is there anything that you've noticed since this all started?"

"Well…it's only gotten worse over time…I get more of them and they're more painful than before…"

"ok, that's a start…" she said. "Tell you what, I'm going to give you the address of my mailbox at the university, when you gather the information I asked you to find, go ahead and send it to me that way… I know that's a little weird these days but I for one prefer to have a hard copy in front of me…"

"I like hard copies too…it's ironic really, computers were supposed to make things faster, but they just slow me down…" he replied.

At that, something in the mood between them changed, and though they couldn't see each other, they both found themselves smiling and knew the other one was too.