"Probably some of the best things that have ever happened to you in life, happened because you said yes to something. Otherwise things just sort of stay the same." –Danny Wallace
Spencer sat in the round table room looking over the reports of the most recent kill, while Hotch and Morgan talked over something at the board, and Rossi and Emily were both pouring over their own reports. Something had been bothering Spencer, deeply, about this case. Something was nagging him in the back of his head that there was something he was just not seeing.
He hunched over his folders upon folders of files, papers spread across his place at the table like wildfire. He didn't understand why the team all upgraded to tablets. It was difficult to compare all the information right next to each other on a screen.
Hotch and Morgan's voices were a blur in the background of his mind; his eyes scanned over and over the documents filled out by the police, detectives, and his team. He used a long thin finger to slide his glasses up his nose when they started to fall. He was beginning to feel like it was futile, sitting around hovering over paperwork when he noticed he was missing a file.
He sat back in his chair and leaned over to his satchel on the floor. He opened the bag and started shifting through papers, when a small folded paper fell out. He reached down to grab it when he hesitated. Harper.
Ever since he met her at the café yesterday his mind had been racing. Something she had said to him struck a nerve. There was very clearly something he needed to understand in her words, but he just could not pick it out.
His fingers wrapped around the paper and he made the motion to place it back in his satchel, but not before flipping it open with his knuckle and glancing at the numbers. He found himself doing this every time he went in his bag for something and it made a small quirk appear in his lips every time.
He reached for the file he was looking for when he froze. That was the piece he was missing. Moving swiftly, and causing Morgan and Hotch to stop what they were doing to look over at him, he flattened the coroner's report onto the table and sifted through the papers until he found what he was looking for.
His fingers skimmed down the middle of the page, reading entire sentences at once until he had it all in his head. "That's it." he exclaimed, and looked up at his teammates, "That's what we have been missing."
"Did you get something, Reid?" Morgan asked his friend.
Spencer scooted out from his chair and stood, clearing the room over to the board in a matter of a few strides with his long legs. He reached up and tapped on the photos of the latest victim, the stabbing.
"I know we keep saying that this is an organized killer, but what's been bothering me is though he is very organized, he seems to go into a frenzy." He tapped his fingers onto the multiple stabbings once more as he pulled every bit of his teammates attention. Rossi and Emily had looked up from their reports to listen in as well.
"This usually happens when there is a personal connection, but there isn't one. At first we recognized this as over kill. After examining the coroner reports again I'm not sure." He turned to the board and looked closer at the photos. "The stab wounds are all the same depth, meaning that he was in control the entire time. Every one of the 47 stab wounds were all done very meticulously. With all these different types of kills I thought he was still trying to figure out what he enjoyed as a killer, we've seen that before, but if that was the case there would be a learning curve or pattern in each one, advancing it further rather than being completely different."
Spencer turned back to face his team, "I believe this unsub may be reenacting something. He is creating a scene he has seen before in a horror movie, a book, or another killer. That's why it has to be so perfect."
Hotch's eyebrows went down, and the serious expression that came to his face whenever he is processing new information appeared. "Good work, Reid." he said and pressed the intercom on the table, "Garcia?"
"Yes, my doves?" Penelope's voice chimed out from the speaker box.
"I need you to look into every kill that has ever been similar to any of the crime scenes. Not as a whole, but individually. I want you to cross reference them with killers, movies, and books; this unsub has seen these scenes before. Leave out the W, that's his signature, it's unique to him and wouldn't have appeared anywhere else."
"That may take some time," Penelope said suggestively, "Do you have any parameters to narrow it down?"
"Start with killers and then move onto horror and crime movies." Hotch said.
"You'll hear from me when I have something!" Penelope said and the speaker clicked off without a goodbye.
Hotch nodded to his team, "I think we are ready to give the profile." He said, and moved towards the door.
Morgan walked up to Spencer and tapped him on the shoulder, "Good job, pretty boy."
"Thanks," Spencer said softly with a lip tilt upwards. The rest of the team, with Spencer, followed Hotch out to give the profile to the local police.
"We are looking for a male, between the age of 30 and 40," Hotch explained as the police force sat around taking notes, "He has a job that he does not get praise for, and feels overpowered by women who control his life."
Morgan cut in to explain the fact further, "He may be in a relationship where he feels under appreciated. But that does not make him weak; this man has no problem overpowering his victims. This guy is organized, he knows exactly what he is doing and not matter what it looks like. He is not out of control for a minute."
"He prefers to use blitz attacks on women," Hotch picked back up, "this indicates he may lack confidence, or may be unattractive. This man has something to prove and only feels in control when he is killing."
Finally, Spencer brought to the table the last piece, "It's possible we are looking at a man who enjoys watching or reading things about killing. He likes the feeling of power that he interprets the killers having when he sees these things. This may be horror movies, crime books, anything of the like. He may be trying to recreate perfect scenes of things he reads or watches."
Hotch nodded to them, "Everyone should be safe, be on the look out for those around you. Someone knows who this man is. It's only a matter of time before he kills again. Thank you."
Hotch then dismissed everyone, and reconvened with the team. Surprisingly, because they had been over the files over and over with no development, Hotch told everyone that they could go home.
"Unfortunately, we are going to have to wait for Garcia to finish this list," he took a pause and looked around, "or for the unsub to make a mistake… which means killing again."
"The rest period between these killings have been completely random," Emily said, "There is no telling when he may kill again. There has been no acceleration, and the time between kills vary."
Hotch took a deep breath, "So let's hope we get something to work with soon. Until then, I want you to clear your heads and regroup."
Everyone nodded heads and made agreeing noises and began to disburse. Spencer walked over and grabbed his bag from where he deposited it. He was feeling very proud and content at the contribution he made. Though without his little run in yesterday, he may have not made the connection. This little bolster in his attitude gave him the push he needed to slip his hand into his bag and pull out the folded paper with intent on actually using it.
He made his way out of the station and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing as he walked. He held the phone to his ear as he heard the ringing. It was very odd for him to be in this position, as he rarely actually called any of the numbers he had gotten. Though most of them were from prostitutes they questioned, cougars, or drunken girls from the bars he would go to with the team when they had time off.
He was so deep in his head that he jumped when the phone clicked to life.
"Hello?"
"Uh-" Spencer stumbled over his words, as if he forgot what to say next. "Harper?"
"Last I checked." She replied with a smile in her voice, which made Spencer's lips tug.
He walked down the sidewalk in silence, just listening to the sound of her existence on the other side of the line.
"Just checking to see if I'm me?" Harper responded when he didn't speak for several moments.
"Oh!" Spencer exclaimed, "N-No. Well, I mean, yes, actually.. I…"
He began to stumble over his words as he did whenever he was nervous, so he took a breath and cleared his throat, "It's Spencer."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, "Huh!" she exclaimed in a huff of disbelief, "I never thought I'd hear from you again."
"Why?" he asked with voice reflecting just how ludicrous he thought the statement was.
"I mean really, Spencer," she said, the smile back in her voice, "guys like you don't associate with girls like me."
"I associated." He quipped back, in a fit of defense.
Harper chuckled, "So, what can I do ya for, Doctor?"
The phrasing of her question had him pausing and stumbling on his words again.
"I-I wanted to see if," he paused, "If you wanted to grab a cup of coffee with me? I have the afternoon off, and I enjoyed talking with you."
Another bit of silence. Spencer thought, with a hint of amusement, that for such a long call log on his phone they sure weren't talking very much. "I'm actually at The Book Nook right now."
"Oh?" He was surprised. The Book Nook was the café he met her at just yesterday. It was a coffee shop / bookstore, with the bottom level being a café with a few shelves littered about, and the second floor was completely book shelves. This was one of his favorite places to go, and after hearing that she had been there two days in a row it made him wonder if it was one of her frequented places too. If so, why had he never seen her there before? Granted, he would always grab his cup and head upstairs and try to find one of the small nooks hidden away in the bookshelves where he could sit and read quietly. He hid himself away, so it was possible she was around often and he never noticed.
"Can I join you?" Spencer asked.
"Sure." Harper replied. "I'll save your number and you can message me when you are here?"
"Sure." Spencer said, "I'll see you soon."
"Okay." She replied quietly. Spencer looked over at his phone as if he was trying to read her face from the other side of the line. He hung up and made his way down to The Book Nook. It didn't take long for him to get there.
He walked inside, taking a look around. There were a few people scattered around, but he didn't see Harper. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up her number. He sent a quick text over.
'I'm here.'
He looked around again, before taking another glance at his phone. He wondered if he should go ahead and order, and was about to move towards the counter when his phone went off. He looked down at his phone and clicked open the message.
'Upstairs. 813/.54 20"
Spencer drew a shaky breath, as he felt a rush of warm tingles run from his stomach up to his chest. He pulled his lips into his mouth to chew. He glanced up at the stairs and slid his phone into his pocket before making his way up to the second level.
Harper was standing in front of a shelf skimming her fingers along the titles of the books. It had been less than two minutes since she texted Spencer when he turned the corner and walked down the aisle. Her eyebrows went up and the corners of her lips tilted up.
"Well, Doctor," she said with a smile, "I'm surprised you were able to find me so quickly."
Spencer's eyebrows raised and he chewed on his lips again at his title, "That was the first time someone has ever used the Dewey Decimal System to give me their location before. I've gotta say, that was pretty appealing."
A bright smile spread across Harper's face and she glanced down at the floor. "I'll take that compliment."
Spencer's lips tilted up on one side. His eyes shot down to her hands. "You don't have the book?"
Harper looked up at him and smiled. Her hand raised up slowly and using a poking motion to draw his attention up to the highest shelf. "Can't reach. Do you mind, Doc?"
Spencer nodded and stepped forward as she moved back. He faced the shelf and eyes scanned upwards when he located the title. He reached up and pulled the novel from its place snug between two other books with his slender fingers.
He glanced at the title, feeling weary, before handing the book over to her. "You'll be surprised at this one." He said when she took the book from him.
Once again, her eyebrows went up and her lips tilted into a surprised smile. "You've read this?"
This time it was Spencer's turn to look surprised. "You already know how it ends?"
Harper smiled and nodded, "Yeah, Fight Club is, like, my second favorite book of all time. I'm a bit surprised you've read it though. It doesn't seem your style at all."
"I've read almost every popular story about forms of schizophrenia." Spencer explained, tapping his fingers together.
Harper looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, "Personal preference, or…?"
"What's your favorite book?" Spencer cut her off, skipping the subject entirely.
She picked up on his discomfort and looked down at the cover again, tucking the book under her arm, "Psycho." She said quietly, looking down at the ground as if what she said embarrassed her. "I really wish I was able to read the book before I knew the ending. I mean, it's brilliant! But everyone knows about Norman Bates."
Spencer felt himself smiling, and the way her face lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about was endearing; but she seemed shy, and she didn't look up at him the entire time. Finally she looked up at him with a soft smile on her face, "I guess I have a thing for twist endings… People just not who they seem to be."
Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, "Why would you buy a book you have already read?"
Spencer knew he had books that he bought that he has read before, to keep physical copies of his favorites. But in this day and age he didn't know anyone else with the practice, and the book he saw Harper with the other day, with the spine broken over and over, gave the impression that she read them multiple times.
"Haven't you read the same book more than once?" Harper asked him, as if she read his mind.
"Actually, I have an eidetic memory;" Spencer explained, "I remember everything I have ever read, so there's no need for me to read it more than once. I also have an IQ of 187, and can read 20,000 words per minute; so it's very rare that I go back to read something I already know rather than moving on to the next book with new information."
Harper watched him with wide eyes, and Spencer chewed on his lips nervously. He went on a tangent again and explained his genius to her, so this was the part when she would become impressed with him, and ask him all sorts of weird questions, or feel doubt in herself because his boast made her feel bad.
As much as Spencer enjoyed telling people about how he was a child prodigy and a doctor and a genius, he often is in such a rush to tell people he forgets that it sounds pretentious. Just as he expected, her eyebrows crinkled together and her lips to tilt down. He waited for her to start to pull away from him as if she wasn't good enough to be in his presence.
"I feel sorry for you." She said softly, looking up into his eyes.
His eyebrows shot up in a slap of surprise. Was that pity?
"What?" he asked her, trying to make sure he heard her right.
"Being able to read a book, and then forget it…" Harper said quietly, her face lighting up like it did before when she was talking about something she loved, "Reading it again, and being able to relive that adventure over and over again? God, I wouldn't change that feeling for the world."
Spencer felt that warm tingly sensation in his chest again, as he wished he could feel the emotions that Harper was describing. No one ever felt bad for him for being smart before. Then again, no one had quite the same mannerisms as Harper.
They stood quietly for several moments, just kind of observing each other. Finally Spencer glanced down at her hands, "I notice you don't have a drink, how about that coffee now?"
Harper smiled and nodded, "Yeah, sure, let me get my bag." She said and turned to walk down the aisle.
"I'll get it." Spencer insisted and reached down for his satchel while taking a few steps away, "How do you like yours?"
Harper paused and looked up at him, before a smile spread across her lips, "I don't drink coffee, actually. Iced green tea? Please?"
Spencer smiled and nodded, and his lips opened involuntarily, "Did you know that iced tea wasn't commonly around until 1094 at the St. Louis World Fair. A man name Richard Blechynden was vending it at the fair. It was too hot for regular tea, so he poured it over ice so it would sell better. And though Richard Blechynden was accredited to inventing it, there is actually mentions of iced tea in recipes going back to 1877."
Harper's smile slid slowly bigger as he spoke, rambling off a random fact while he moved his hands and fingers around during his explanation. When he finally concluded, he looked down at her, gauging her reaction to his rant. "Sorry…"
She smiled at him again, and glanced down, biting on her lip, "It's okay."
Spencer jammed his thumb backwards towards the other end of the aisle. "I'm going to go order."
Harper nodded and pointed back to the way she was heading, "I'm down at the table back here. Just follow the aisle and take a left. The one by the window."
Spencer nodded. He knew the one; he sat there several times when he wanted to be closed off from everyone else. It was taken when he came here the other day, so he ended up sitting at a table down by the café. He wanted the privacy so he could sort his thoughts in peace, but ended up having to do it out in the open. Which resulted in a peculiar encounter.
He walked down the aisle, but turned to take a glance back. He turned in time to see Harper moving around the corner, as she turned she glanced up and caught his eyes. She delivered a soft smile before disappearing behind the bookshelf.
Harper walked over to the table where she stashed away from the public. She slid into the bay window next to the table and looked outside. She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She somehow found the strange doctor alluring, and the way he just spouted off facts was adorable.
She never thought she would find herself in such a position. Most people seemed to pull away from interacting with someone who looked like her. To normal guys, she was a novelty, a way of saying 'look how I can get the weird girl.' But there was something else going on here, and she found it rather interesting.
Something was not all right when it came to Doctor Spencer Reid, she could tell. There was something weird about him too. So here they were, two strange people trying to feel each other out. Harper was really enjoying the experience, and hoped that Spencer was too.
He was back sooner than expected, sliding into the chair near the table and sitting her cup down in front of her. Harper smiled at him in a greeting of his return. She thanked him for the tea and brought it to her lips.
"So, Harper," Spencer started, taking a long drink of his coffee, "What do you do for a living?"
Harper set her cup down on the table and pulled her legs up so she was sitting cross legged on the bay window. Spencer watched the motion happen before reverting his attention to her face. "I'm a student, at the moment, but I have several odd jobs online to keep up my apartment."
Spencer's brows crinkled slightly, and Harper smiled softly. "I know, I should be out of college by now, but I wanted to go back and take a few new courses."
Spencer realized that she mistook his confused look, "O-oh. No. I was wondering about your online jobs?" he stumbled on his words, and cleared his throat before continuing, "I've been back to school several times to complete different courses and acquire new PHDs."
Harper's smile tugged at her lips and once again Spencer felt embarrassed for bringing up his intellect. "I do a lot of data entry, form management, email campaigning, creating contracts… Anything that involves typing, writing; I also beta-read some things."
"You get paid to read?" Spencer exclaimed, a vast amount of surprise and disbelief, and maybe a hint of envy to his voice.
Harper laughed and nodded, "Yeah, I do. I don't get a lot of job offers in the real world looking the way I do. So, unless it takes place behind a screen with minimal interaction with people, they don't want to pay me for it."
"That…Is a really cool job." Spencer said, stretching his legs out underneath the small table. "I feel like anyone should be able to work, as long as they are good at what they do…"
Harper nodded, picking her cup up and taking a drink from it, "I agree."
"What are you studying at school?" Spencer asked. Harper opened her mouth to respond, but Spencer's phone started ringing. "Oh, sorry."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone; he noticed Hotch's name flashing across the screen and looked up at Harper, "It's my boss, I have to take this."
Harper nodded and grabbed her cup as Spencer slid out of his chair and took a few steps away from their table before answering his phone.
"Hotch?"
"Reid, someone leaked the profile to the media, and details of the crime scene." Hotch's guff voice said from the other side of his line. "I need everyone in so we can regroup and find out who is leaking information. If the Unsub finds out we're on to him, he may move on or stop completely."
Spencer drew a deep breath and looked over his shoulder to see Harper sipping on her tea and looking out the window, legs curled up under her looking particularly comfortable.
"Reid?"
Spencer let out a sigh, "Yeah, I'm on my way."
He hung up his phone and deposited it back into his pocket. He walked back over to the table and Harper looked up at him. "That was my work; they need me to come in. I have to go, I'm sorry."
"Oh. Okay." Harper said with a smile.
Spencer lent down and picked up his bag and grabbed his coffee cup from the table before looking to her again, "D-Do you want to meet up again sometime? I didn't mean for this to be cut so short."
Harper smiled at him, "Sure."
Spencer smiled and waved to her; she waved back and he turned, leaving down one of the aisles. Harper watched him go, before looking down into her cup with a soft smile on her lips.
Later that evening Harper returned to her apartment, tossing her keys and her bag next to the door. She lent down to her bag and pulled out a small laptop, then proceeded to walk over to the couch. She set the computer down on the table and grabbed the remote, flipping on the TV.
She kicked her feet up onto the table and ran a hand through her hair as she searched the channels. A news story that was flashing across the screen caught her attention. Above the caption of a Serial Killer in Virginia, a news reporter was speaking to the camera. Harper turned the volume up.
"My sources say that this killer has changed his way of murder each time he kills, but somehow, the FBI still think this may be the same killer."
After spending the afternoon with someone as articulate as Spencer, the woman on the newscast sounded like a nimrod in comparison. Harper smiled and started to move up from the couch to grab a drink from her kitchen.
"This last woman was killed by stabbing, multiple times, 47 to be exact." The woman's voice trailed to Harper as she grabbed a bottle of water from her fridge. Her eyebrows rose at what she heard, and she slowly moved back to her place on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.
"The victim, a young blonde woman, was murdered brutally in her own home. She was stabbed several times in the stomach and face. The FBI says that the murderer in question is a male, between the ages of 30 and 40, who loves scary things, and is trying to recreate something he has seen or read. So if you know any horror movie fans, be alert!"
Harper took a deep breath as she hung on every word of the newscast. She felt a rush of exhilaration as the news reporter ended her warning and they moved on to the next topic. She bit her lip and glanced down at her laptop on the table. She reached out and picked it up, opening the clamshell design.