It has not been a particularly good day for SSA Meyers. The morning started with her alarm clock deciding to malfunction, eliminating her ability to enjoy the morning cycle on Sportscenter with a cup of coffee, run an iron through her hair, or put on more makeup than foundation or a dash of mascara. It doesn't help that it's been two weeks since the date and all she's gotten from Spencer has been a text message thanking her for her understanding. Don't misunderstand, she meant what she said to him about waiting until he's ready but she has her own set of insecurities and needs so far as relationships and this may or may not be entrenching them.
Her hose catch on and rip on the side of the counter on her way out, leaving Rowena grateful she shaved the night before because it's looking like a barelegged day. It's a warm day, luckily, and so her unruly hair ends up bound on the top of her head with only her bangs free and her suit jacket is thrown over her arm as she storms into the building. Her ridiculously high black heels were the first shoes she could find that morning and so they click angrily across the tile floor, something that does not go unnoticed.
"Damn, Spencer, what did you do to tick her off?" Morgan asks the question from his spot perched beside the young genius. They're writing up long overdue paperwork, and Morgan uses Spencer for reference to make sure that the finer details match up.
"Huh?" Spencer looks up just in time to see Rowena virtually stomping across the floor to the elevator, obviously in a foul mood. "Nothing that I can remember. We ended our date on good terms, or at least I thought so." He's truly puzzled and Morgan silently gives him the benefit of the doubt, not wanting to interfere too much.
"When was that date?"
"Two weeks ago." Morgan's a bit surprised by the time lapse, but the BAU has been busy and everyone gets distracted.
"Go well?" Spencer's quiet and Morgan looks up at him from his paperwork, seeing him turning the pen over in his hand and gnawing his lip. "Kid, I know I make fun of you sometimes but you can talk to me about anything." He sighs.
"I know, but I really thought it was okay. We went out and I was…I was not all there because of Boise." The taller agent nods, watching his friend carefully. Profiling habits die hard and he's alert to any clues to something deeper going on. "She could tell and ended the date early. She didn't want to make me try and stay focused when I obviously wasn't." Spencer smiles briefly at the next memory. "I pulled a rose from behind her ear and thanked her, apologized, and she, uh, she kissed me on the cheek." Morgan chuckles and shoves his shoulder playfully, making Spencer's grin bashful.
"My man! Doesn't sound too bad. Did you call her?" He blinks.
"What?"
"Spencer. Did you call her after that, tell her thanks, send her flowers, anything?" Spencer shakes his head slowly, confused, and Morgan's palm makes a resounding smack against his own forehead. "I do not understand how you can know so much and yet so little about women."
"Did I do something wrong?" His voice is starting to get higher with panic.
"No, no, not necessarily. Other option is just your run of the mill bad day, we all have them and it may just be Rowena's turn. But I guarantee you that she's wondering if you're still interested in her."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows crumpled together.
"Well, it sounds like she wants to genuinely have a close relationship with you. She's probably hoping you'll reach out to her sometime soon, give her an indication that you're still interested. Are you still interested?" Spencer's eyes wander to the coffee cart and his smile becomes a bit wistful as he thinks of the soft pressure of her lips on his cheek.
"Very much so. I just…" He kneads his forehead with a hand. "I don't know how to do this, Derek. I want to get to know her better but things are so complicated. Nothing like poetry, nothing like romantic novels. Derek, I wouldn't even want a relationship with me, why would she?" His hand slams against his armrest, frustration with himself exploding and then going back under control. Morgan puts a hand on his friend's shoulder, feeling rather brotherly as he does. One of his best traits is his protective nature and it bothers him to think that Spencer might miss out on this girl for no good reason.
"Spencer, women are a mysterious and sometimes crazy species. Why they do the things they do, pick the men they do, nobody knows and this is a profiler talking. Rowena likes you, apparently because of everything that makes you weird. Stop trying to think every little thing through so damn thoroughly for once, and don't write yourself off so easy. You got plenty to offer." Spencer smiles finally, though he still looks thoughtful.
"Do you think Garcia would mind looking up an address for me?" Morgan chuckles.
"I know she won't mind."
On the way home, Rowena hopes and prays that her day will somehow get better, thinking it has to. She lives in a townhouse in an older neighborhood on the outskirts of the city and when she pulls in the driveway, her interest is piqued. There's a familiar lanky figure seated on the steps of her home. Rowena parks and shuts the door, pausing for a moment to just observe.
"Spencer Reid." Rowena murmurs to herself, a smile spreading and beginning to do away with the stress of the day. He stands up and smiles back, and it's then that she notices he's holding something behind his back. "Well, well. I'm guessing I owe this visit to the BAU's computer genius, Garcia?" She says louder as she approaches him.
"I didn't mean to invade your privacy and I hope you're not upset, I just wanted to give you these." Spencer pulls a bouquet of tiger lilies from behind his back and extends them to her, his cheeks pink and his eyes hopeful. She's struck dumb and he immediately begins to ramble. "I'm sorry, I should've asked before I came to your home, and I should've called earlier than two weeks after our date but I was afraid you wouldn't want to go out with me after it but you looked like you had a rough day and I just…" He sighs. "I just wanted to make you smile. I'm sorry, this was a terrible idea." Rowena laughs quietly and if he didn't know better, he'd swear there are unshed tears in her eyes.
"No, Spencer, thank you. Thank you so much." She takes them from him and inhales deeply, the spicy sweet smell further eroding the stress of her day. "How did you know these are my favorite?" He opens and shuts his mouth, thinking better of the long answer he was going to give.
"I guessed." Rowena lifts an eyebrow.
"Is that shorthand for profiling?" Spencer nods and loses a bit of his own anxiety when she doesn't frown or scowl. Rowena looks past him to her door, and has to think only a moment before speaking again. "Do you want to come in?" She asks simply.
"Oh, no, I've already invaded your privacy , I can, uh, just call a cab, or something." He nervously answers and she chuckles.
"You haven't intruded, but would you like to come in until a cab gets here?" Spencer nods, glad that she's being patient with his social stumbling about and not quite trusting himself to talk again. She pulls out her keys and as she opens the door, Spencer composes himself. The last time he was in the home of a girl he was currently interested in, someone was trying to kill her. "Come on in." She kicks off her shoes as she walks in the door and he starts to fumble with his, but Rowena waves him off. "It's a habit of mine, not a rule."
"Oh, okay." Spencer feels himself blushing again and hates every second of it. He looks around, profiler's instincts, and starts to compile. More warm tones. The walls are a soft yellow-white, and the furniture he can see is almost all strictly classic, in shades of brown, and no modern touches except the entertainment center. Jazz lines her music shelves along with pop from her childhood and R&B. She's an old soul, faithful to her at least partially African-American roots it would seem from the Harlem Renaissance copies.
"Would you like coffee, glass of wine, tea?" Rowena asks from the kitchen down the hall and he shakes out of observation to answer.
"Um, coffee, if you don't mind?" Her full laugh rings out and the sound makes him smile before he realizes he is.
"Spencer! You are my guest, stop asking me if I mind." She calls down the hall. The coffee pot hums on and Spencer looks for a place to sit. There's chairs at her counter and a breakfast nook carved out of what appears to be oak in the corner of her kitchen, tiger lilies neatly in a vase on the table already. "Spencer?" Once again, he's shaken out of his reverie and looks at her. "I'm going up stairs to change into something more comfortable, please make yourself at home. I mean it, you look like you're standing on eggshells." Spencer sighs.
"I'm sorry, I just don't normally do this." She comes around the counter toward him slowly, reminding him for some reason of the stalk of a lioness.
"Do what, Spencer? What are you doing, exactly?" Rowena's tone is pure mischief and as she comes within a foot of him, close enough for him to smell her fruity perfume, Spencer is proud that he realizes she's not only talking about his physical location. Her dark brown eyes examine him from the bottom up, moving with deliberation, and a fire lights in his chest when they meet with his. "Hmm?" Rowena knows, oh she knows, exactly what she's doing to him and Spencer decides in a moment of what is probably the early advance of schizophrenia, to return in kind.
"I'm not sure, but, uh, I think I may be flirting with you, in your home no less. Something I most definitely do not do often." Spencer replies, not breaking the eye contact. She laughs again, sending chills down his spine, and sends him a look he cannot decipher, brushing past him into her living room and up the stairs. He can hear rustling upstairs and starts to examine her DVD shelf, trying desperately not to think about the fact that Rowena is taking off clothing directly above his head.
Rowena, for her part, is wearing a gleeful smile as she changes into a pair of brown leggings and an oatmeal colored lightweight cotton shirt that reaches her knees. She's not particularly slender but fit and well shaped; the shirt is loose but doesn't hide that she has curves, baring part of a shoulder and that's about it. It hasn't slipped her notice that Spencer hasn't actually called a cab, and she's pleased by it. She looks in the mirror and groans at the tired circles beneath her eyes and messy bun, but leaves her hair in its place atop her head and her makeup as is. He's already seen her like this, he's about to see her in lounge clothing too, Rowena's fairly certain that Spencer must like her appearance since he's still around.
"Take anything with your coffee?" He blinks when he sees her in comfortable clothing. It's domestic and, he's shocked to realize, natural to him to see Rowena this way.
"Um, yeah, two sugars, if you have it." Rowena pours it and adds the sugar, handing him the black-handled burgundy mug. Her own goes in a green mug covered in delicate black ivy with a hefty dump of powdered creamer and Splenda. He takes a sip. "Good coffee."
"It's the little things in life." She replies, drinking her own with obvious enjoyment.
"No peppermint?"
"I try to limit my habit to work." The smell of something spicy is pervading the kitchen, likely from the Crockpot in the corner, as they talk and Spencer's stomach lets out a growl, wholly against his will. "Hungry?" She asks, obviously amused.
"Yes, but-" His eyes widen. "I didn't call the cab." Like at the Korean restaurant before, her hand reaches across to sit softly on his but this time the gesture is timid.
"It's a Friday night. If you don't have other plans, I'd be happy if you stay for dinner." Spencer can tell Rowena means this honestly, just like the last time she offered him a chance to steer this wherever he feels comfortable. Morgan was right though. He'll never know if he doesn't try this and dear God, does he want to.
"I'd like that." Taking the risk, he deftly slides his hand below hers and grasps it, his long fingers wrapping around hers with painstaking care to be gentle. Rowena smiles and squeezes his hand, but seems hesitant still.
"This feels oddly familiar." She murmurs, trying to stay positive but is secretly terrified that this is heading towards another two week gap.
"Yeah, it does. But I don't intend to go anywhere." Rowena looks up and, recognizing hope, returns it with a smile. "At least not until after dinner."