AN: Whoo! So I got the chapter out, I am proud of me. It's not totally awesome, but it's not totally crappy either. That means something, at least. :P Well, not much to say about this one. They meet, talk a bit. Please tell me if I captured their combined awkwardness, although Bella is kinda on the OOC side. I just imagine her a bit rougher and more sarcastic because there is no Edward to fawn over. *gags a bit*
So, I'm hoping I did well. You'll tell me, right? I'd love to ease my insecurities, lol.
Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.
Spencer looked at the team, all reading their various files on the case awaiting them. Minutes passed, and he simply looked out the window, already having read his own multiple times. There wasn't much to any of them, though, since there wasn't much about the killer or his behavior. Only that he was brutal and merciless in what he did. He obviously held a deep loathing for whoever had wronged him in his past, and there was no doubt in his mind that the killer was more than a bit unstable. From experience, he could guess that something had made him simply snap one day.
The killings were spread over Hanover, and yet seemed to gravitate to the Dartmouth campus. Which meant that, since most killers stay in their own vicinity, they could probably find him there. It was already decided that two agents would go in together, undercover, and act as if they were normal college students. And Spencer, the "baby" of the team, had no doubt in his mind he would be sent in. Yet he still hoped for his lost cause that he wouldn't have to experience the hell that was college again. Sure, he was now grown, no longer a mere young teenager, if that, but still. He wasn't anywhere near the strongest or most fluent in conversation. Every interaction he had that wasn't with friends was stunted and awkward.
He looked up as Gideon addressed the team again. "Well, I've decided to send two in, as you all know. Who should go? Keep in mind we need someone with a good memory, young-looking, and intelligent enough to pass the courses without getting distracted." Spencer frowned in utter dismay as every head silently and simultaneously turned eyes on him.
"But, I could be of more use—" And he knew, by the look in Gideon's eyes—the almost amused twinkle at his suffering, that he could argue, but it would do no good.
He sighed angrily, rolling his eyes, and moving onto a question of more relevance. "Who's going with me?"
"Well," Gideon shrugged, raising his eyebrows, "Now we need someone also rather young, who would have the intimidation factor, and the strength to go on any unexpected chases. And preferably someone charismatic, so we could have someone in with the crowd and the gossip." The same thing happened to Morgan, as it was obvious who fit the bill there.
He smirked, "I can deal with that. College chicks, here I come." Elle rolled her eyes, but aside from that, no one reacted to his bluntness, as he was like that daily. Spencer turned to Gideon, knowing that his fate was sealed.
"Do we go talk to the dean when we get there, or…?" He furrowed his brow, confused.
Gideon shook his head. "Garcia conveniently provided me with the dean's number before we left, and it's already arranged. You'll both simply go by your very same names, as they are both rather common. And, of course, if anyone asks, you deny your involvement with the FBI. So, while JJ, Hotch, Elle, and I head to the hotel nearby, you'll go straight to your dorms. Now, we've got a bit more of a flight, so I suggest some rest."
With that, Spencer sat back and allowed himself to shut his eyes.
When he awoke, groggy and confused, they made their way hurriedly out of the private terminal with their bags, leaving the airport behind. They had two black, nondescript cars awaiting them just outside. Spencer and Morgan—Derek, now, it seemed—got into one and separated from the rest of the team in the other.
He barely registered anything as Derek talked to someone behind a desk, they were handed sheets of paper, and he was being dragged through a parking lot and doors, upstairs, and then he was in their room. He saw a bed, looked at it for just a moment, before dropping his bags next to it, followed by himself. The mattress sighed under him as he fell asleep, listening to Morgan—Derek—do the same.
When he awoke, he was suddenly so aware of the fact that he was undercover, on a mission, looking for a sick, cold-blooded killer that most likely lurked the Dartmouth campus. He jumped from bed, looking around in a disgruntled way, wondering why he was in a simple, informal t-shirt and sweatpants. Had he changed during the night? He didn't remember doing so before he passed out without reading his class schedule.
And that was when he had the presence of mind to actually look at the thing, and instantly regretted it. His luck that his first class would be today, at noon. He looked at the convenient clock ticking away above the television in his dorm, and huffed angrily, going to his bags to get ready. He would need to be there in an hour, and that didn't count how long it may take him to find it in the first place. He, out of compulsion, picked up a crumpled piece of paper and by habit read it as he moved. Derek had the same class at the same time, oddly enough.
He went over and shook him, startling him upright and fully awake. But when he found no threat, he looked at Spencer in a confused, dazed way. "Wuh?"
Spencer rolled his eyes and went to his bags, grabbing the normal looking jeans and t-shirt he had packed before, when he had known he would be one person going undercover. Gideon had taught him to always be prepared, and he was. If he consistently did laundry, he should have enough clothes to look like a normal, inconspicuous college student. "We have a class in an hour, together. I'm going to get dressed in the bathroom." And then he did so, closing the door behind him and stripping fast, pulling on his clothes and looking at himself in the mirror. He looked rather normal, which was good.
Blending was key.
As he walked out, his hair brushed, hands washed, and face shaved, he heard the cell phone ring. Derek grumbled for him to get it as he rushed into the bathroom, the water running as he groomed himself. Spencer went to the table in the middle of the dorm, grabbing it and putting it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Spencer," Gideon addressed him. "That's what you'll go by. Derek will go by his first name also. You've got a class soon, by the way. The only class you share, I think. I wanted to make sure you were up in time."
"Thanks, we are. We'll make sure we go by our first names." He nodded and silently listened to the basic instructions, which detailed not letting their cover slip, as the killer could be anywhere. They exchanged simple goodbyes and hung up, Derek walking out on cue. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Spencer's apparel strangely.
"I didn't even know you owned clothes your age," he mumbled to him. Spencer rolled his eyes as Derek sighed. "So, what was the call about?"
Spencer and Derek both grabbed their bags of notebooks and assorted textbooks Gideon had provided them with on the plane as he answered.
"Basically, Gideon wanted to remind us that we shouldn't blow our cover, only go by first names, even to each other, and tell us we had class soon." Derek nodded, grabbing his key to the room off the same table. Spencer mirrored his action, stuffing his own in his pocket, and following Derek out the door. He shut and locked it before following a small map of the campus to the building they needed to be in just minutes before their class was due to start. He walked in and looked around, finding only two empty seats, next to an equally empty girl.
Their eyes locked for a brief moment.
Dark, deep, chocolate brown swirled with a small curiosity as she locked eyes with him, a tall, lanky boy that put a pang in her heart as she had a brief flash of her once best friend's husband. Although he had been more muscled, this boy was shaped in the same way. She bit her lip at the intense throbbing along the edges of her broken heart, looking away from him as he looked up at her professor.
They spoke quietly before said professor pulled out the clipboard from before, handing it to him nonchalantly, and then discretely glancing up at her. She shook off the strange look he gave her, looking around for empty seats. The boy passed the clipboard over, apparently having decided where he would sit.
Panicked, she searched frantically. But there were two seats that were available, and both were on either side of her. She groaned under her breath, shifting her bag from the chair next to her to under her feet, leaning her head on her hands and sighing as the boys awkwardly made their way up the steps. Or, the first one did. The second smiled in a devilish way, glancing around at every pretty girl in the room as he walked past.
And then they were at her row, heading down and closing in. She watched the second, dark skinned man raise an eyebrow at her, but she paid no attention, listening to the quiet shuffle of the other boy as he moved behind her and sat next to her. They were both settled when the professor locked eyes with her, a small smile on his face, and began to explain about the project again. It was simply about religion and her personal view on it—still, she took out her pen and notebook, copying quick, scribbled notes.
She furrowed her brow when she watched the darker one on her left—Derek, as he had told the pretty, blushing girl in front of him—reach for his bag, but shrug and stop, leaning on his hand and dazing through the class. The other boy simply watched the professor talk intently, before finally looking around the class a bit. She continued to take notes as a movie rolled, a continuation of religions, origins, and further things. She never took her eyes from the stiff boys next to her, and never relaxed her tense muscles.
Finally, they were dismissed. She did let herself sigh quietly, gathering her things much faster than normal, and rushing from the class. She held all her books in one arm and ran her free hand through her hair. She looked behind her, and there was the boy—the skinnier, taller one. She rolled her eyes as he looked down at the little map he was holding, walking fast. In fact, he was walking a bit too fast—she didn't realize how close he was until a shockwave ran through her and her things were on the ground. She, of course, fell over, bringing him with her.
Side by side, they had caught themselves on their elbows. She was panting with the adrenaline rushing through her system—he jumped up quickly, holding out his hand for her to grab. She blushed slightly, taking it and allowing him to pull her up. "I'm sorry," he blurted awkwardly, before reaching down for her things. She felt a small tingle in her hand—she looked at it strangely for a moment, before bending and gathering what he hadn't yet. He handed her the rest, grabbed his bag, and they stood a few feet apart.
"Erm…don't worry. I tend to meet a lot of people this way. And, well, I should be sorry," she said softly, glancing at her hand. Why did it tingle so? She shook the thought away and looked at him, regaining her normal numbness. "I'm very clumsy, so it was me that made us fall."
He laughed slightly, looking at the crowd by a nearby building as he answered. "No, no, I should have been watching. My fault."
She smiled, just a bit genuinely, at someone that was amazingly like herself. "I'm Bella. I was in your last class."
He looked up at her, and she tore her eyes from his. "I'm Spencer. And yeah—I sit next to you." She laughed half-heartedly.
"That you do." Awkward silence descended, and she picked at one of her fingernails a moment, bit her lip, and then finally found something to say.
"So, um, where are you going now?" He simply handed her the map he had been holding, and she gazed at it with a grim satisfaction. Because it just figured.
"I'll…well, I'll take you there. And you'll sit next to me, because yet again, that's the only open seat," she deadpanned, before turning on her heel and walking again. She adjusted her things nervously as he caught up to her in two long strides.
"Do you like sitting alone?" he asked, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
She glanced at him a moment. Then she looked forward and slowed her pace a bit, cocking her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I definitely do. New people, crowds, that type of stuff…well, it's awkward and I can't do it well. Like talking to you, well, I know what's going to happen." She figured she might as well be truthful.
His brows furrowed. "And what's that?"
She smirked, no trace of mirth in her eyes. "I'll say something so pathetically stupid that we'll be surrounded by this huge, awkward silence until we get there. And then it'll be weirder, sitting next to each other and still hearing crickets." He laughed a bit, and she looked over at him curiously.
"That's…well, that happens to me a lot, Bella. I understand." And that was when she had no response but to nod and smile, the silence a bit less awkward than she expected, but not comfortable as they turned the corner and walked over to the correct building. Spencer held the door for her and she blushed just a bit again. She was no longer able to brighten like she had before.
She sighed angrily at her thoughts, leading to places she didn't want to bother with right now. Soon she would, but not now.
She left Spencer at the podium in front of her professor, who openly hit on him as she handed him the seating chart. She ignored everything as she watched the video—not that she needed to. Spencer didn't address her once.
When the video was over, the professor was writing quick notes on the whiteboard, and she couldn't help but notice Spencer's lack of notes again. She shrugged and copied hers quickly, the teacher dismissing them after she passed out a copy of Shakespearean poems. She told the class to read the first three poems before next class, and take down their point of view and what they thought it meant.
The class was dismissed and Bella was surprised at such a light workload, but definitely didn't complain. She looked over at Spencer, who simply grabbed his untouched bag and slung it over his back. She put her things away, standing up, and didn't look at him as she voiced her questions. "Why is it you don't seem to take notes?"
He started, looking at her a moment before seeming to realize she was addressing him and expecting an answer. "I have a good memory. Um, why do you ask?"
She shrugged. "Curious, I guess. Which is weird, because I never am anymore." She looked up, throwing her bag over her back, and smiling tightly at him. A blush colored his cheeks slightly, and she didn't comment as she turned on her heel and walked away, out the classroom. Spencer looked after her a moment, before sighing and walking out of the room. He headed to his dorm slowly, looking at the cement under his tennis shoes as he made it to the room he shared with Morgan. He had another class later on, but there was plenty of time until then. What would he do with nothing to do?
He sighed again as he walked through the door, looking around. Morgan—well, Derek. He would have to get used to calling him that. He wasn't there yet, so Spencer went over to his bag. He looked through his books—he had read them all, of course, but he always turned to them when bored. But he didn't want to this time—especially because this was a college—University, even. There had to be numerous bookstores around.
He decided to walk, because not only did he not want to waste gas, but he would have to get used to these normal clothes and shoes. He locked the door behind him, walking down the stairs and out the door of the building, sticking to the sidewalks and simply looking around. He would find something eventually.
Finally there was a large, pastel sign that had a book flipped open. On the open pages it said The Page Palace. He could only figure they sold books, so he walked through the door and looked around. A woman was reading a book, her face hidden behind long, mahogany hair. He decided to just peruse the shelves, reading each name and picking a few. Of course he grabbed Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and the book he had lost not too long ago, Dianetics. He decided upon various other books, before bringing his small pile to the front where the woman looked up, and he was face to face with her again.
Her face scrunched in the cutest way, and he found himself swallowing any stupid words that may have come out. He would let her speak first.
She smiled sarcastically. "Hey. Long time no see." She tucked her hair behind her ear, shoving the book away, and put both hands on the counter. "Let's see what you've got."
He cleared his throat and nodded dumbly, glancing at the back of the books for the prices and adding in tax, pulling out the exact amount quickly. She finished ringing them up and looked at him. "Six—" He passed her the bills. She looked down at them, brow furrowed, and began to count. A moment later, her eyebrows shot up. "Wow. Exact. You are good. Here, I'll get you a bag."
She walked to a small pile of paper bags, bending over and trying to get one for him, but she was obviously having trouble. Though he wasn't able to look for long, because he was a man and she was undeniably beautiful—he glanced away, thinking of math. Algebra. Zebras.
She came back and he looked back at her, his cheeks burning. Though, he managed a smile. "Thank—um, thanks. Have a nice day." She giggled, mumbling something about that being her line, but he left with haste.
Oh yeah, I forgot to thank all of you for your comments and encouragements, they do really mean a lot to me! I felt so happy and my heart skipped a beat every time I read them. And also, I forgot to mention that I own neither Spencer, Bella, Twilight, or Criminal Minds, or any of those awesome things that I covet. Poor me. :'(
Anyway, I do hope you review, as without them, I would have such a hard time continuing, lol. But any suggestions are very welcomed here. :)