Dr Spencer Reid is temporarily teaching at Harvard University. But after a series of chance encounters he find himself drawn to a special someone. He is not sure what his feeling mean, but he hopes to find out. But will life and his job get in the...
Spencer was still reeling from the memory, his fingers brushing over the number on his hand.
For a moment he felt like he was in a dream again. He quickly snapped out of that. His fatigue rapidly dissipated and an audible groan escaped his throat. He skidded out of the bathroom and frantically bounded towards the guest bedroom. He barged into the room startling Derek, who was half dangling off the bed.
"Where is it?" Spencer half shrieked, as he searched the room.
"What?" Derek croaked, still half asleep.
"My phone. Have you seen it? Come on help me find it?" Spencer attempted to usher Derek off the bed.
"Okay, okay. Give me a minute. My head is spinning, and you are making it one hundred times worse." Spencer ignored Derek's comment and urgently pulled out the covers from under Derek, in an effort to search the bed. Derek body went flying off the edge of the bed, landing in a thud on the floor.
"Ow!" Derek rubbed his back in self-comfort. He hauled himself off the floor. "I found it."
He has not finished his sentence when Spencer materialised before him and feverishly took the phone form him.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" Derek questioned.
"Something stupid," Spencer muttered, under his breath. Derek collapsed back on the bed and nestled hi head on the pillow, when Spencer anxious rambling, made him shot back up.
"Oh no no no no no."
"Seriously kid, what?"
"Look." Spencer shoved his phone in Derek's face. Derek's eyes scanned over the screen, before bursting out in laughter.
"I can't believe you actually did it. I was sure I made that up." Derek was still clutching his stomach.
"It's not funny Morgan," Spencer screamed. He sounded like a tantrum throwing teen.
"It is to me."
Spencer glanced down at the phone again. In the early hours of the morning, shortly after arriving back home, a drunk Derek had somehow persuaded Spencer to text Gia. A pang of embarrassment soared through Spencer's body.
"You have a little toothpaste on your face," Derek said, trying to diffuse the situation and pointing at Spencer's face. Spencer smacked away his hand.
"This is your fault," Spencer cried, plonking himself in defeat on the bed.
"How exactly?"
"You peer pressured me."
"You didn't have to listen," Derek snorted.
Spencer turned to face him.
"Do you know the meaning of peer pressure?" Spencer scoffed.
"Listen, Spencer, trust me it's not that bad."
"Really!" Spencer voice peaking in sarcasm. "Well, you're not the one that looks like an absolute buffoon in front of potentially the only person in the entire world I currently even remotely care what they think about me." Spencer rattled off his sob story to Derek without taking a breath.
"Wow." Derek's eyes fluttered in disbelief. "I'm sorry I didn't know it was that serious.
"It's not." Spencer snapped, but he caught himself. "Sorry," he sighed. "I just... I've never had to deal with this before," he announced jabbing his hand toward the situation on the phone.
"You like her." Derek asked.
"I don't really know her."
"That's not what I asked."
"I...I guess. Errr. Maybe. I don't know man. I just feel different when I see her or think about her. I don't know what that means. But I would have liked to find out. But now I have ruined that."
Derek shakes his head.
"Nothing is lost yet, my friend. Here let me have a look again."
Spencer unlocks the phone and hands it to Derek, who reads the messages out loud
Hey G
I heard people call you G.
I hope it's okay that I call you G
You surprised me when you wrote
your number on my hand. You
could have typed it in my phone.
Hold on that sounded terrible.
I didn't mind. I liked it. It was
different.
I would say I'm never washing my
hand again, but the thought of the
germs is already making my skin
crawl.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Anyway, the point of this message
was that it was nice to see you.
You looked sweeter than 3.14.
You are probably asleep.
So, goodnight.
S x
Spencer cringed as Derek read them out.
"Sweeter than 3.14?" Derek quizzed.
"Pi," he answered, glumly.
"Oh. I get it. Can I ask you a question Reid?" Spencer nodded. "Err what was it that you were trying to say exactly?"
"I don't know," Spencer cried out in frustration. "She muddles my mind. It's like my brain shifts gears when it comes to her."
"Yeah, it's confirmed you like her."
"How do you know that?" Spencer asked, intrigued.
"She makes you feel different, in a good way. She makes you feel things you don't feel with anyone else. That has to mean something. Also you sent her those horrible pictures."
Spencer pondered over Derek's words.
"Please don't tell anyone Morgan."
"I won't. But why?"
"Knowing me. It won't work out. I don't need that attention. Everyone already babies me and I'm thirty-three."
"Almost thirty-four." Derek nudged him. "Yet somehow still look like you are in high school. God bless those genes."
A smile spreads over Spencer face.
"On the bright side. I don't think she has seen the messages yet," Derek declared.
"Thank God."
"But she will see them at some point. I hope your next interaction is more normal."
"I don't think normal exists in my dictionary," Spencer joked.
