Thank you so much to MermaidOdair for your review on my prologue! I know I'm about two years late to the Raeve bandwagon so the interest probably isn't that high anymore. I've always loved them but have only just been inspired to do a little fic'ing on them. I'm going to try and do as much as possible in chronological order but they'll be a few flashbacks and flashforwards so at the start of each chapter I'm going to specify '8 months before' or '5 months after', etc. The 'before' and 'after' being from the point of the epilogue where they meet at the warehouse where Diane has kidnapped Maeve.

8 months before.

Reid was lounging on his sofa in his dressing gown lazily flicking through channels until he stumbled across an appropriately mundane soap opera.

It was late and he knew he should be trying to sleep considering the massive case he had just worked but images of dead, mangled bodies kept popping up behind his eyelids every time he tried to close his eyes. He cursed his eidetic memory. He took a sip of the green tea he was holding in his hands.

Suddenly, his cell phone rang interrupting his sullenness and making him slop the yellow-green liquid down his front. He sighed deeply and scrunched up his face as he reached for it on the coffee table. Surely they couldn't expect him to come in after being home for a mere hour after a 36 hour case with no sleep?

Mind, he wasn't getting any sleep anyway.

"Hello?" he mumbled, turning the television volume down.

"Oh, you sound exhausted! Sorry, I shouldn't have called so late. Sometimes I forget normal people go to bed at night time. I've been procrastinating over calling for ages and I let it get too late. Sorry. I just don't know when to because of your erratic work schedule but you've probably just gotten back and trying to rest. I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow maybe…"

"No, wait. Wait!" Reid urged before she could hang up. When he was sure he could still hear her soft breathing on the end of the line waiting for him, he smiled.

"Hello Maeve."

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Usually, she had the most beautiful, calming voice but it sounded troubled tonight. Reid sat up, concerned.

"Maeve?"

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Spence," she said distressed and he could hear her feet pacing back and forth. "I've spent every single night, all night, pouring over everything again and again. Your family tree, all your psych tests, every doctor's assessment since you were seven, your diet and lifestyle, your brain scans and blood tests. I've tried every prescription medication and subjected you to every test I can think of and they've all disproved any diagnostic theories I have. I've even been researching natural remedies and I'm a scientist…I don't usually take much value in that kind of mumbo-jumbo – wait! Did you get the green tea I sent you?"

Reid smiled down into the cup. "I did, thank you. I've been drinking it instead of coffee like you suggested -"

"But it's not the same, I know," Maeve sighed. "Maybe I'll pick up some Hyson Lucky Dragon tea next time. It's a bit more full-bodied than Dragonwell. But they're both grown in the Zhejian Province of China and did you know - sorry, I've gone off topic again. I've had about several buckets of coffee trying to keep awake…why am I talking to you about coffee? I'm trying to get you off the stuff. You must think I got my phD from a cereal box. Sorry."

Reid felt immense guilt bubbling in his stomach. She had lost so much sleep – and a little bit of sanity it seemed – trying to fix his headaches. He just needed to tell her the truth but he just wanted to listen to her sweet voice all night.

"Now this absolutely kills me to my very core as a scientist and a rational human being so I beg of you –as a fellow doctor - not to judge me or laugh at me or hang up on me but…," she took a deep, dramatic breath. "My mother studied naturopathy so I've been around the new-age voodoo all my life and even though I've completely failed you as a doctor in figuring out why you have these headaches – I have a few new ideas on how we can fix them. Don't hang up! There's acupuncture or remedial massage. Now, I would rather chew off my own arm but I'm not the one suffering. I've done some cross-referencing on places near you that aren't entirely unsanitary. I'll email them to you. Another thing we can try is aromatherapy – particularly lavender oil. Urgh, I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth. Though I had a lot of trouble sleeping last week so I tried smelling some lavender talcum powder but I think I accidentally snorted some of it. Either way, it put me to sleep. Oh wow, Maeve, why are you telling him this. Shut up. Sorry. Anyway, there's another old-fashioned remedy for headaches that's supposed to work well but…you would probably need your wife…or girlfriend to help you with that one."

"I don't have a wife or girlfriend," Reid stammered quickly.

"Oh," she sounded surprised. "Are you..?"

"No, no, I'm not," Reid said hastily. "No boyfriend either."

"Oh," she sounded slightly brighter but didn't say anything else.

"Wouldn't you be able to help me with…whatever it is?" Reid asked.

"Oh, Spencer," Maeve chuckled nervously. "I think we'd get in a lot of trouble."

He had no idea what she was talking about but he loved it when she said his name. He just sat there like a stupid, love-struck teenager until he heard her sigh morosely.

"Maybe its best if someone else takes over your case, Spence. I just don't know what else I can do for you."

Reid's heart skipped a beat. He knew this day was coming but he had been holding it off for so long.

"I don't want another doctor," he said like an impertinent child. "I don't want to lose you. You're the most wonderful, most caring…doctor I've ever had."

"I don't want to lose you either…" she paused; it had come out more passionately than she had intended. "…you know, as a patient. But I personally know a lot of trusted neurologists that I'd be happy to pass your case over to."

He went to protest but Maeve interrupted him. Her voice was quiet and scared.

"Spencer, what if something is wrong? What if…something really is wrong with you and I've been sending you tea leaves and scented candles like an idiot instead of getting you proper help from a doctor not as apparently useless as me?" She sounded hysterical and on the verge of tears.

"You're not useless, Maeve," Reid said and decided to tell her the truth. He had taken it too far. She was doubting her brilliance. He was hurting her over it. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Okay." He heard her take a sharp intake of breath, bracing herself as if he was going to hurt her. As if he ever could.

"Maeve, my headaches lately…they've…eased."

"Eased?" she said slowly.

Reid pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath preparing for her to hang up and have them never speak again.

He was used to people he cared about leaving but it would be a blow nonetheless.

He'd only have himself to blame.

"I'm not sure if it was the Naratriptan you prescribed me or something else we've been trying but…they seemed to have gone...for now."

After a few minutes of silence and Reid waiting with the phone by his patiently, he heard her sniffing and holding back tears unsuccessfully. It was like being shot in the leg again except the piercing pain went straight through his chest.

"Please,please don't cry," he said desperately, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. "I'm so sorry, Maeve. I should've told you when they stopped. I just…"

Now he was lost for words. When his headaches had gone for a week, he was, of course, happy about it but skeptical. That week had been a horrible case. Cases involving children usually were. He had finally gotten home from the flight at the end of the week and was looking forward to calling Maeve and informing her about the lack of migraines and pain.

When she had answered, she sounded bright and giggly like she had been in a fit of laughter right before answering the phone.

Reid immediately felt stupid and wanted to apologise for interrupting and hang up straight away.

Of course she would have company on a Friday night. Maeve was brilliant and funny and incredibly intelligent and kind and probably beautiful and…

"No, Spence, don't hang up," she said cutting off his embarrassed, mumbled apology for calling. "What's up?"

"I just called to let you know…"

He heard faint noises in the background like she was trying to stifle her giggles. He felt his heart sink.

No wonder she had kept fabricating polite excuses when turning him down on the rare few occasions that he had felt bold enough to ask her to meet in person for coffee. Or tea, since she had been such the advocate for it.

He had been encouraged by the fact she hadn't blatantly said no, there just had always been something in the way at the time. But now he knew she was just being polite.

"Sorry, you're busy. I'll email you later…"

"No, no. Please don't go. Sorry, I'm being so rude. I just…" she giggled more. "I'm reading The Dying Detective and I'm at the part where Sherlock is pretending to be ill to Watson…"

Reid smiled for the first time that week and recited the line that seemed to bring her such joy. "You and I, Watson, we have done our part. Shall the world, then, be overrun by oysters? No, no; horrible!"

Maeve laughed a beautiful, tinkling, carefree sound. He had heard her smirk slightly and 'haha' appreciatively from time to time but this was different.

I did that, he kept thinking, I drew that lovely sound from her. Well, he knew deep down that technically Arthur Conan Doyle was the one who had made her laugh.

"I'm sorry," she apologised again after she had recovered and he heard her shut a book heavily. "I don't usually lose it like that. I mean it's not that funny. I think I'm just sleep deprived and silly and I've had too much wine. Four glasses, I think? Well, mugs actually. I'm still unpacking from when I moved and I tripped and smashed my box full of glassware so I'm just drinking out of my mugs. I'm using my T.A.R.D.I.S mug I got for my birthday but its square so it's challenging not to slop it everywhere. What a truly impractical shape for such a vessel. Hmm, actually this mug is quite large. It's probably more than four glasses then…"

She paused to think to herself and Reid listened with fascination. Maeve was usually very carefully guarded and she only steered their conversations toward his life. Sometimes, she would give him something very small about herself in an offhanded comment and he would piece it together with all the other little bits to try and get a better picture of his intriguing doctor-friend.

"Anyway, why did I call? Oh, wait, you called me, didn't you?" she chuckled to herself and Reid guessed that she was probably quite small in stature if four glasses – mugs – were taking this much (albeit endearing) effect on her. Unless she didn't drink often which he guessed from the frequency of their calls that she didn't.

"What's up? Oh….duh, of course. I mean, why else would you be calling," she chuckled nervously for some reason. "How are our headaches going?"

She would always refer to it as their headaches as if his pain burdened her also.

"They're…" Reid paused. He hadn't considered this part.

Talking to Maeve. Writing to Maeve. It had become such an important part of his life ever since she had made that witty, clever, contradictory comment on one of his articles all those months ago.

She had been such a gift to him since. She never chastised him for spouting facts or rambling excitedly, in fact she was probably far worse than him.

He could talk so freely about his fears of inheriting his mother's illness with her and not be scared of showing weakness.

Whenever he heard or said something he found amusing that the team didn't understand – he wasn't disappointed anymore; he saved it up and shared it with Maeve that evening.

But he didn't stop to think that it would all be over once his headaches had stopped and he no longer needed Maeve…medically.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to wait a few more weeks – just to see if the headaches really were gone.

"They're giving me some trouble but it's not unbearable."

Reid felt slightly guilty at Maeve's disappointed sigh. They spoke briefly about different remedies and narcotic free pain relief options and Maeve said she was going to do some more research over the weekend about the unidentified cause.

The headaches didn't return but each time they spoke, he couldn't bring himself to risk cutting ties with her.

Now, as he was brought back to reality, he was beginning to wonder how badly he had hurt her as he listened to her cry faintly.

"Maeve, I'm sorry again, really. I can't really explain why I didn't…Don't cry. Please don't be upset."

"No, I'm relieved," she sniffled. "I…I really thought there was something really bad happening with you that I couldn't find and it was killing me and now I'm just happy you're going to be okay."

The unexpected and unfamiliar...concern that she had for him was creating feelings that were foreign to him.

She seemed to have composed herself as Reid heard her brush her tears away with her sleeve against the reciever.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm acting like the stereotypical naive, weepy, girlish, small-town intern from a sensationalised medical drama. I promise I once was a detached, apathetic doctor. I cut people open. I did not cry during it."

Reid sighed, relieved that she wasn't upset with him.

"Wait - why didn't you just tell me they had stopped?" she asked curiously interrupting her own spiel on how not one Jodi Picoult novel had made her cry as a testament to her professional stoicism.

Here it comes. He was stupid to think he could've gotten away with not having this conversation. Reid tried to think of the most shameless way out.

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to bother you. In case it was a false alarm."

"Bother me?" Maeve repeated tersely in a tone he hadn't heard from her before. "We've been calling and talking about…medication and alternate therapies and…books and poems and stupid irrelevant things and you didn't think it necessary to tell me that the problem I've been trying tirelessly to solve for months has already been fixed for what? Weeks? Months? I researched all kind of naturopathy witchcraft voodoo for you. That's a personal travesty against my soul, Spencer. My soul."

"I know, Maeve. I know after everything you've done for me, I've been wasting your time and making you doubt your abilities and keeping you up all night doing all this research. I feel so…"

"That's why you think I'm upset?!" she said loudly, her tone taking on a slightly hysterical note and he could tell she had stood up now.

"Spencer. I don't care about that stuff. I have been kept up all night because I've been terrified out of my mind for you, Spence. I had no idea what was wrong with you and every time I tried to close my eyes I kept picturing some kind of horrible something swooping around your head like an ominous bat that I just couldn't find. Every minute of the day, I would be pacing around here waiting like a stupid teenager for you to call because I'd be so afraid that it would kill you or send you to hospital and I would just be stuck here with no way of knowing what happened to you. Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you? Do you think I care so little for you that I would be bothered by you calling me? Like you're some kind of chore or inconvenience? I don't know what's more devastating - that you think so little of me or so little of yourself." She took a much needed breath to continue. "More to the point-"

"Have-dinner-with-me," he blurted out barely tangible before he could stop himself.

"What?"

Reid scrunched his long, messy hair in one of his fists while he gripped the phone with the other and felt his heart hammering. He didn't mean to ask her so clumsily but hearing her talk about how she cared for him – he got impulsive. Or maybe he sensed he was about to lose her and desperately put his heart on the line.

"I...I would very much like to take you to dinner, Maeve."

"You don't have to do that, Spencer, it really was my pleasure-"

"No," Reid said more courageously. "Not to say thank you - not that I'm not thankful for you. I am, irrevocably…but mainly, I would like to take you, I guess, as part of the social process whereby two people meet socially for companionship, beyond the level of friendship, or with the aim of each assessing the others suitability as a partner in an intimate relationship. For dinner in particular but it doesn't have to be. Any kind of courtship consisting of meeting and engaging in some mutually agreed upon social activity in public together achieves the same objective."

"Are you…trying to ask me on a date?"

Reid swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes. Though, I'm not doing a very good job of it."

"No, not at all. But I am enjoying listening to you try."

He smiled ruefully. "You're being avoidant again."

Maeve sighed and he could hear her chewing at her nails. Reid knew it was one of the more common nervous habits and felt guilty for making her feel anxious.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It was stupid, I-"

"No, I want to," she said quickly and Reid pressed the phone more closely to his ear to make sure he had heard her right. "I really want to."

"But…?" he said sensing the hesitation in her voice.

She was silent for a few minutes. "Spencer. You don't want to be involved in my life. It's incredibly messy. There's so much you don't know about me. If you did you wouldn't-"

"I know enough about you to know how much I care for you. And messy? Maeve. You know everything about me. I'm an overworked genius with no social skills, my mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I'm a recovering drug addict, I'm an insomniac and caffeine-dependent, my work hours are-"

"Spence, Spence," she stopped his torrent of self-flogging. "I get it. We're both life-time members of the perpetually messed up baby geniuses club. But there's something going on in my life that's so much worse than any of that..."

"Are you sick?" Reid said quickly panicked. A hundred – no, a thousand – illnesses and diseases that could take her away from him flew across his mind.

"No," she said. "It's not that."

"You're not some kind of criminal on the run are you?" Reid smirked and even though she was stressed he could detect the hint of a smile in her voice.

"Because I'm going to give up my felonious past to you."

"You never know I might be on your side?"

"I didn't know the dodgy underbelly of genetic medicine would interest you, Agent Reid."

"So that's your 'dangerous life' then?"

"Of course not, silly," she said with a chuckle but then silence fell between them again.

"Maeve, I could talk in circles with you all night – and although I wouldn't have a problem with that, just tell me what it is. You won't scare me away."

She took a deep, hesitant breath before answering. "I have someone…following me, I guess."

"…following you?"

"Okay, it's a bit more serious than that. Not long before we started talking, I started getting these phone calls. Just heavy breathing and then hanging up. I didn't worry about it too much. I just thought it was kids or some of my interns doing dares. Then I started getting strange, horrible emails. I talked to my boss about it but it was…hard. My superiors have always hated me because of my age and I was the only girl in the lab so I was never taken seriously. He just told me that boys will be boys and to enjoy the attention."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Mmm. I just stopped opening them but then they started coming to my personal emails and then I started getting threatening letters and photos of myself sent to me. He was angry that I was ignoring him. My parents made me go to the police but they said there was nothing they could do about a secret admirer. That's what they called him. After I went there, things just got worse. I was riding to work on my bike and I tried to brake but they had been cut and I slammed into a car. The saline solution I was working with in the lab was replaced with some kind of acid. I had to go to hospital for chemical burns on my hands. They just got more and more dangerous until I finally answered him and asked who he was and what he wanted. He just kept saying he wanted me and was going to kill me and then himself. I thought - I thought I could handle it myself but then he…he started following my family and told me what he was going to do to them…" she took deep sharp breaths as if she were holding in her tears. Reid was filled with equal parts horror and heartbreak for her. "That's when I quit work suddenly, I cut myself off from all my friends and family, I changed my number and I moved apartments but none of it worked. He always found me. I've moved five times in the past two months. I get phone calls all the time but I don't answer them. I only pick up for you."

"Maeve…"

"It's okay, Spencer," Maeve said shakily. "I know it's heavy. I've got more baggage than a 747…and that's even without my stalker…I'm just thankful I got to know you at all and you wouldn't begin to know how much better you've made the past couple months for me and I can't thank you enough for that."

"Maeve, no," Reid said. "Of course, I still want to be with you. Let me help you. My team, we deal with this kind of thing all the time and we'll find him and-"

"No!" Maeve said quickly. "Spencer, I don't want you to get involved. If he ever found out about you…"

"I can handle it, Maeve."

"No, I'm not letting you do that. If we're going to make this work, you have to trust me to take care of it."

"Maeve, if anything happened to you-"

"I promise I will ask for help if I need it but you have to promise me you won't get involved until then. Please Spencer," she pleaded.

Reid's knuckles were white from gripping the phone too tightly. He was filled with uncharacteristic rage at this man for hurting Maeve and putting her through all this torment. She must be so lonely and scared all the time. His mind was in a battle with itself. He wanted nothing more than to help her but she would only be with him if he met her requests to stay out of it. If he refused, she would end it and he wouldn't be able to help either way. He didn't even know her last name.

"Okay," he said reluctantly. "But if he does anything-"

"You'll be the first to know," she promised.

"So where does this leave us?"

Maeve sighed. "It'll be hard, Spence. We'll have to be careful. If we're going to do this, I'll get a prepaid sim card and change my number again. You'll have to be careful how you call. If he somehow finds my phone records, he'll see your number…"

"I'll use payphones. Work takes me all over the country so it'll never be the same one twice."

"Okay," Maeve said. "I've got a post box at my post office under a fake name. We can send letters? I know a lot of people don't do it anymore but I prefer to write."

"That would be wonderful."

"We should probably use different names just in case they're intercepted."

"I feel like I'm in an Ian Fleming novel."

"If this is too much for you, we don't have to-"

"Maeve, Maeve," Reid sighed. "I was just joking. I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you pick my pseudonym?"

She thought for a moment. "Dr Joseph Bell?"

Reid chuckled. "They're big shoes to fill."

"Do mine now."

There weren't any heroines, fictional or nonfictional that could possibly live up to Maeve in his eyes so he tried to settle for someone she would like.

"Zoe Heriot."

Maeve laughed softly earning a smile from Reid. He was glad she had stopped crying. "The second Doctor's companion."

"One of the best, I think. And a lot like you. She's incredibly young, she's a genius with a degree in pure mathematics, she's a librarian and astrophysicist and she has a photographic memory. Her intelligence is comparable to the Doctor himself."

"Not to mention she's completely useless in the real world and always getting into trouble because of it. A lot like me."

"We have that in common. Hopefully, one day we can work on it together."

"I hope so too."

The clock on his fireplace notified Reid that it was past midnight.

"Wow, look how long we've been talking."

There was a pause on the other end and Reid assumed Maeve was looking at the time at her home.

"Oh my stars, I'm so sorry! You're probably exhausted from your case and I've been rambling on about my life story and devising secret plans like a 1920's private eye. And sleep is the most important thing for your headaches. Wow, some doctor I am."

"Who's being silly now?" he teased lightly. "Are you going to sleep okay?"

"I only nap here and there. I never feel safe sleeping for too long a time."

Reid sighed sadly. "I wish I could be there."

"Me too," Maeve admitted. "But this is how it has to be…for now at least."

"I know that," Reid said. "I'm just happy I get to be with you in any way…even if it's like this."

"Me too," Maeve said again. They were silent for a couple of minutes, neither of them wanting to say goodbye but knowing they had to. He wandered into his bedroom and laid down with the phone still to his ear. He looked at the nightstand to his left and saw a book.

"Hey, do you have The Bell Jar?"

"Of course," she said. "It's here somewhere."

Reid heard her rummaging before making the cutest little victorious noise he'd ever heard.

"I have it."

"Okay," Reid said. "Now take it into your bedroom."

"Alright." He heard the soft padding of her feet on carpet.

"Now get into bed."

"Dr Reid, we've only been dating for half an hour."

He chuckled. "Maeve."

"Sorry," she smiled and he heard her collapse onto pillows. "Alright, I'm all comfy now."

"Alright, now we're both going to read it so you know even though you're by yourself. I'm in bed reading the exact same thing."

Maeve whined. "That's not fair. You read so much faster than me."

"I'm much slower at recreational reading. I'll try and go even slower to keep up with you common folk."

"Very funny. What happened to intelligence comparable to the Doctor himself?"

Reid laughed. "So, lets read up to Chapter Four tonight and we can email about it tomorrow? I might be flying out so I don't know when I can call next…"

"That sounds nice. We'll have the smallest book club in the world."

"The most enjoyable one though."

She gave a sleepy yawn. "Yeah."

"Maeve," he said. "Call me anytime tonight – or anytime any day – if you need anything."

"I will."

"No, you probably won't."

"I'll try."

"Good," Reid said. "I think this might be my favourite conversation of ours yet."

"It's mine definitely."

"Goodnight, Maeve."

"Goodnight, Spence."

I know it's a long chapter – I am known for my long chapters but I feel the first conversation they would have had about Maeve's stalker and them starting their relationship would have been quite long. Please chuck me a review and tell me what you thought. Also feel free to send me ideas or what you would like me to write about and include in these two's future.