She sits alone in a creaky leather booth at the old coffee shop, nursing a large steaming cup of coffee. Her papers are strewn about her and she frowns at them. When will they learn that no amount of creative accounting can hide from her red pen and sharp eyes. Rowena can't bring herself to take off Spencer's sweater though, despite the fact she's irritated with him. It's too soft and warm, and it smells like her favorite boy genius. Usually she's patient with his inability to talk but it's frustrating her to the point of being hurtful. Simply a letter, it looked like, and Spencer acted as though she'd gone through his underwear drawer. Hell, she has actually worn his underwear, so she's truly confused at what's going on. Her phone vibrates on the lacquered wooden table with another text message from him and Rowena looks away from it, furiously notating a graph.
"The text message says I'm on my way." Spencer slides into the booth across from her, knotting his hands together. He squirms in his seat, the way she's looking away from him confirming that she is as annoyed with him as he thought she might be. Not that she doesn't have a right to be, but it's the first time she's outright walked away from a potential confrontation.
"That's nice." She mutters, her pen flying across the paper.
"I'm sorry, Rowena. Please, look at me." The pen rests lightly against the table but she looks at her lap. "Rowena." She looks up, and he finds her dark eyes closer to unreadable than he's ever seen them. "Please, say something."
"I asked you not to lie to me, Spencer. If you can't talk about something, just say that, but don't lie to me, and sure as hell don't lie to me and expect me to be okay with it." Rowena says firmly, keeping her frustration tightly in check. Spencer sits numbly, knowing she's right but not quite sure how to say it. "I may not be a profiler, but I'm not an idiot. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me like one."
"I know you're not an idiot. God, I know, but that doesn't mean I'm not one."
"You'll get no argument from me." Spencer nearly smiles at the familiar playful sarcasm this time, but knows he's only on his way to being forgiven.
"What were you hiding from me?" Rowena asks, and he finds his throat incapable of making sound. He looks away, unable to bear her scrutiny, until he hears a quiet sigh. "Fine."
"What?" Spencer looks back and is surprised to find something closer to peace than anything else on her features.
"If you can't tell me something, I'll respect that. But I'd rather a simple "I can't talk about it" than lies and lashing out. Fair?"
"Alright." He manages, unable to believe the mercy he's just been granted. She can see the relief and smiles, starting to pack her work back into its bag.
"Don't look so shocked, Spen. I'm not going to ditch you that easily. You'd think a profiler would notice I'm still wearing his sweater." Rowena points out, and Spencer blinks at just how right she is. "Nor would I have left my keys on your counter, nor my car in your driveway. Learn to breathe, sweetheart. You're worth far more to me than that." She looks up to meet his eyes and smiles. "I got mad, I got over it."
"Then why did you walk out?" Spencer asks, following her as she starts to walk out of the Beanery and Rowena takes his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers.
"Spen, if we don't get mad at each other, we aren't doing something right. Cut me some slack when I screw up and I'll do the same."
"You're inhumanly reasonable about this!" Spencer sputters and she laughs, kissing his cheek and lingering, her grip making him stop with her in the middle of the dimly lit D.C. street.
"I told you, Spen, I like you." Her eyes are warm even in the lack of light and her other hand comes up to stroke his cheek, the touch making him shiver. "I like you more than I'd care to admit, actually. That's a pretty good incentive to be reasonable, don't you think?" Her hair is a bit of a mess and Spencer instinctively reaches out to smooth it, unable to express just how goddamn grateful he is to have found this woman.
"If you say so." Rowena reads it all on his face plain as day and stands on her toes to kiss his nose, pleased to have her favorite genius back to his normal self, and resolved to find out just what is going on at some point.
"Now since I've been so reasonable, I think a reward is in order, hmm?" She hints, wrapping her arms around her clueless boyfriend's neck.
"Like what?" Spencer asks, living up to his label in her mind. Rowena chuckles, something alluring persuasive in the sound, and stands on her toes again to whisper in his ear. His face goes red and his knees wobble nearly imperceptibly, and Rowena laughs out loud. "Or not. Come on, let's go back. I should be getting back home." Spencer stands in the street for a moment, his hand and face gradually cooling off as he contemplates the full implications of her suggestion.
"Roe, are you serious?" He calls, and she grins over her shoulder at him before picking up her pace.
"I don't know, catch me and find out!" It's a fear he's not ready to face. A woman like Rowena, she's had to have been with men at least more attractive than he. To lose Rowena because of his lack of physical prowess is a thought that near paralyzes him with fear.
A/N Sorry for the late update, it's been a crazy summer. I'll be updating more often and hopefully longer, but I thought it was cruel to keep the cliffhanger going.