Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds
When deep down in the core of your being you believe that your soul mate exists, there is no limit to the ways he or she can enter your life. - Arielle Ford
o o o o
31 July, 2008
The musky scent of the old books filled the building and very few sounds permeated the room beyond scattered, muted chatter and the constant turning of pages. Beneath him, the over-stuffed, plush wing chair was comfortably squished in all the right places and the book in his hand was so creased in the spine that it was quite obviously well read and much loved.
"And now you are angry with me too because I have a man here," the soft, warm breath on his ear made him jump slightly, but years of training kept him in his seat as the soft voice continued.
"I found the poor creature sitting all alone astride of a keel, for Jove had struck his ship with lightning and sunk it in mid ocean, so that all his crew were drowned, while he himself was driven by wind and waves on to my island." Soft and breathy, the voice poured new life into the words and the scene came alive for him as it had never before.
"I got fond of him and cherished him, and had set my heart on making him immortal, so that he should never grow old all his days." The hair on the back of his neck was standing up and shivers ran down his spine.
Spencer Reid looked up when the voice stopped too see a brightly coloured young woman settling into the wing chair across from him.
"You – you know The Odyssey?"
"Only by heart," the young woman laughed, pulling up her pink stocking-ed legs to sit cross legged. Her laugh was like a tinkling bell – high, clear, resonant and it rang through him in a way he'd never felt before.
"Very impressive. Not many people can memorize a book, let along one that's 528 pages, if your reading the Fitzgerald translation, 560 if it's the Fagles translation and, strangely, 256 if your reading the Palmer translation. This ones the Fagles."
"You know the exact pages numbers?" The girls' thin eyebrows raised and the mouth turned up in a smirk.
"Uh, yeah – I know a lot of seemingly useless information." Gently closing the book, he placed it on the end table next to him.
"You should put in a bookmark – you're going to loose your spot."
"Page 324, line 12. I'll be fine."
"Heh, I 'spose you will."
Spencer couldn't look away from her – something about her glued his eyes to her, taking in everything about her and committing it to memory. She was almost odd looking, very unique: she had pulled up her red, blue and purple hair into two curly, messy buns on the side of her head, making her look like an updated Princess Leia.
"Why do you have The Odyssey memorized?" Spencer asked, brushing his bangs out of his eyes and pushing his glasses up in one fluid, practiced motion.
"My grandpa read it to me constantly when I was growing up. It's my favorite story. Well, technically epic poem. Grandpa used to sing it to me the way Homer intended. Though, I'm pretty sure he sang it a little differently then they did in the eighth century in –"
Startled at his interruption, she stopped and looked at him pointedly. "Pardon?"
"That's what you were going to say, right? The Odyssey, and The Iliad as well, are attributed to Homer near the end of the eighth century before common era. Aoidis, meaning singers in classical Greek, would sing these epic poems and it continued in an oral tradition until Peisistratos established the, eh, the Commission of Editors of Homer to edit the poems and ended up canonizing them.
"The earliest pieces of the work that survived are only fragments on papyrus, dated roughly to the third century B.C.E. and the oldest complete manuscript is from the late 10 century C.E. And, um, the editio princeps –the first printed manuscript – is attributed to Demetrius Chalcondyles in 1488 in Florence, Italy. But Homer originally wrote them in Ionia. Isn't that what you were going to say?" Reid took a deep breath and waited, realizing that his words were coming out in a rush.
"Yes. Yes, that's what I was going to say. You know a lot about this poem," the girl paused and pulled at the fraying aglet on her shoelace before looking up with a determined gaze, "but do you know that on a six-sided dice, the opposing numbers will always add up to –"
"Seven. Yes, I did."
"Technically a zebra is black with white strips."
"You're right. If you shaved a zebra, its' skin is completely black."
The pink-legged girl placed her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her hands. "The statue of liberty was originally –"
"Supposed to go to Egypt in honor of the Suez Canal."
"Terrorism, as defined by the Oxford English Dictionary, is –"
"Defined as 'government by intimidation'."
"The medical term for cold sores –"
"Is herpes simplex."
"Issac Asimov is the only author ever to –"
"Author a book in every category of the Dewey-decimal system."
The young woman pursed her glossy lips and stared at him with piercing hazel eyes. "Every year the human body replaces ninet–"
"98% of all its atoms."
"According to Canadian researchers, Einstein's brain –"
"Was 15% wider than usual."
"The largest number of children born by one woman is 69."
"Correct – from 1725 to 1765 a Russian serf gave birth to 16 sets of twins, 7 sets of triplets and 4 sets of quadruplets."
The girl practically snarled. "I thought I had you with that one. The word 'nerd' was created by Dr. Seuss in –"
"If I Ran the Zoo. And I take that personally offensive."
"None meant," she smiled brightly. "The 'You've got mail!' voice is Elwood Edwards."
"That I did not know." He smiled and replied, "A typical ear of corn has –"
"Roughly 800 kernels in sixteen rows."
The girl stood up and her bright blue ballerina skirt flounced out to her knees. She took a step towards him and pressed a kiss against his unshaven cheek. After winking at him, she skipped out of the room, her black, high top converse scuffing on the floor, without another word.
Spencer sat in a stunned stupor for a few seconds before bolting out of his chair and following after her, forgetting the book on the end table, but she was gone. He lifted his hand to his cheek and a small bit of tacky residue from her lip gloss stuck to his fingertips.
He had just opened his mouth to ask the woman reading in the room he'd just entered if she had seen his mystery girl when his pocket started buzzing.
"Reid." He answered, lifting the phone to his ear and ignoring the annoyed glares he got from the other patrons.
"Hey, Boy Genius, I got some info for you that's gonna make you so hot you'll wanna jump my bones."
"Huh? Oh, good, good…" Spencer rubbed his eyes under his glasses, trying to focus his racing thoughts.
"What? No rise? No jumping to the bait? You've crushed my spirit, Point Dexter, I'll have to call Chocolate Thunder to recover. What has you not paying attention to the all knowing García?"
"I'm sorry, García. I'm a bit distracted. I, uh… I think I may have just met my soul mate and I, uh, I… I don't even know her name."
Hey! Thank's for reading and welcome to the beginning of the rest of our favorite Dr. Spencer Reid's life.
Also, this fic starts in Season Four. Specifically between 4x09 "52 Pickup" and 4x10 "Brothers in Arms." It'll be obvious if you watch Criminal Minds regularly when my fic ties in with the shows and to which episodes. :)
Please, tell me what you think, good or bad!
Again, thanks for reading. :)