Close | A Spencer Reid Story

7. Bye bye bye

Spencer's POV

I snatched up my bag and strode over to the elevator. It opened instantly when I pressed the button. I stepped in and propped up against the wall, pressing my phone to my ear.

After two rings I hear the line open. "Working?" I question.

"Is it that obvious," Y/N laughed. "But this is an inventive project. Not for a client. Makes it feel less like work."

I could imagine her sitting at the desk that she centred to look out her window and onto the sunset, her PCs fired up with her architectural designs and papers scrawled with her calculations.

"Not that I mind that you called, Spencer, but what's the reason for this call?"

The elevator halted and the doors slid open. "Nothing really. I just remembered something, and I had the urge to call."

"Oh yeah. What did you remember?"

"Thanksgiving." I fumbled in my bag for my keys. Had I left them upstairs?

"Ohhhh," she groaned. "After we ate too much pie. It was actually difficult to breath."

"Yeah," I chuckled, giving up on searching for the keys in my bag. "So much so that it was too uncomfortable to fall asleep. We ended up talking all night. Before we knew it the sun was up."

"I remember. I'm glad I didn't have to work the next day. Otherwise, buildings would have been crooked because of me."

My chuckle was followed by momentary silence as I called the elevator again. "You know the craziest thing... I can't remember how we had so much to talk about. I remember every word. Every word. I'm just baffled that we had spent all weekend together and we didn't run out of conversation."

She inhaled sharply, as if she were stretching. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Do you think that means something?" I enquired. The stuffy elevator air submerged me once more.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Does it mean something if our conversation flows so easily?" I reiterated.

"Ummm... Maybe it means that I'm just great company and really know how to make a conversation forward."

Her joke made me smile. My keys jangled in my hand when I snapped them up off my desk. "You are," I agreed. "Usually my input ends the conversation, but not with you." Over the years I had become so accustomed to the stunned or confused looks after I said something that when Y/N had listened to me so intently and asked questions I was transported to somewhere heavenly.

"That's just because they don't understand that they talking to the smartest person in the room. And they should be engaging with you to propel themselves forward not shun it away. That's their problem not yours."

I rapidly pushed the button to the car park, with a grin plastered on my face. How did she know exactly what to say?

In the background of the call, I heard the doorbell. "Sorry Spencer. I have to go. The building was sending someone to check over the electrical wiring."

"Wait. Wait a minute." I frantically stopped her. "What's happened?"

"I don't know the electrics have been playing up. They cut off randomly and there was a loose current in one of the apartments in the building apparently. They said someone was going to come out and check."

"It doesn't sound safe Y/N. You shouldn't be staying there. Besides, I don't know why you are staying in that apartment anyway. You have a beautiful house."

"I need inspiration Spencer. I wasn't getting that at home. Plus, my house is too far out the city, and I have to many erratic clients right now to be an hour outside the city." The doorbell rang again. "I got to go. Bye bye bye bye."

The line went dead before I could protest.