Close | A Spencer Reid Story

27. Waiting

Y/N's POV

Arriving at the restaurant I was already thirty minutes late. I was expecting Spencer to be waiting on me. But it was me who was waiting.

I waited a while, sipping on water and answering my emails.

It was only when the waiter checked me for the fourth time, that I decided to call Spencer. It's unlikely that he forgot but he may be held up somewhere. But the call rang through to voicemail. I waited longer before I called back only to receive a message reply.

Working late. Heading straight home.

There were many reasons why this was odd.

Firstly, Spencer hated texting. He would always call, no matter what.

Secondly, it came across as if he forgot. That was impossible.

I cleared my throat and called over the waiter.

"Can I place an order to takeout please?" I flicked through the menu.

"Of course. No, Dr Reid." He cleared away the tableware.

"Busy at work." I shrugged. I placed my order. Ordering Spencer's favourites. I collected my bag and jacket and rose from my chair. "I'm just going to wait outside."

"Are you sure? It's a little chilly. You are more than welcome to stay seated at the table."

"No, No. I'll get some fresh air while I'm waiting."

"No problem. I'll bring it out to you."

Stepping outside, I called for my car.

Evan pulled up in minutes. "That was a quick dinner," he commented as he stepped out the driver side to open my door.

"Spencer never made it."

"Oh," he frowned. "All that rushing, all for nothing."

Within fifteen minutes the waiter bustled out the revolving front door and brandished the order. "See you soon."

"Home?" Evan asked as he put on his seat belt.

"Actually, can you take me to Spencer's apartment."

He nodded, whilst looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

"Do you want me to wait or..."

I lean sideways to check the time on the console. "Ummm, no you head home. I know Amelia can't sleep without seeing you. I'll get a taxi." Evan's daughter Amelia would probably still be waiting up for him.

I took the stairs to Spencer's apartment. I knocked a few times, but there was no answer. I contemplated letting myself. I was still thinking about it when the door cracked open and a half-dressed Spencer squinted through the gap.

"Y/N?" he croaked. Then suddenly as if he were hit by lightning, "Y/N." He was awake now.

"I brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry. You always forget to eat when you're busy." I held up the bag that was weighing down my right hand. I may have order too much.

"Oh," he looked back then opened the door a little more. "Err, thanks you didn't have to do that." He held open the door for me but kept throwing glances over his shoulder.

"It's nothing," I shuffled inside and began laying out everything I ordered.

Spencer slipped inside his room, barely opening the door at all and retrieved a hoodie, which he tugged down his chest as he approached the table. "You went all the way to Le Fouquet's." He exclaimed.

My forehead twitched in confusion. "Ummm... yeah," I replied.

"You didn't have to go all that way to get this for me. Especially after your meeting." He began tucking into the food. He must have been really hungry.

"My meeting?"

He motioned to my appearance. "You look nice."

"Are you serious?" I chuckled.

"What?" he queried innocently; his face stuffed.

"We were supposed to meet for dinner at to Le Fouquet's," I reminded him, passing him a tissue to wipe the corner of his mouth.

Spencer's face dropped. "At seven," he recalled out loud.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Shit, I forget," he slapped his forehead with his hand. After commiserating for a second, his head shot back up. "How long did you wait?"

I just shook my head, motioning that it was fine and that it didn't matter. There was no reason to make him feel worse than he already did.

I watched as he remorsefully carried on eating, my chin in my palm, which was supported by my elbow on the table.

"Do you want some?" he asked.

"No," I shook my head. "You carry on."

Spencer was beginning to object when my phone interrupted him.

"Hello?" I answered. After a short conversation I ended the call. I sighed and rose from the chair I was occupying. "I'm going to head out.'

"You're not going to eat?"

"I'm not that hungry," I sighed again.

Spencer followed close behind me as I made my way out. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I smiled at him as I slipped out the door.

"I'm sorry about dinner."

"Don't worry about it." I waved to him as I walked down the hall.