"You don't like me, do you?"
"Wow. Nothing gets past you, Sherlock. Do you keep one of those magnifying glasses tucked away in that little vest of yours?"
•••
Lydia Beowulf works for the Hostage Response T...
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A entire week filled with the deep investigation of a case had passed since Lydia's heated argument with Spencer. They avoided each other throughout their investigation. Anytime they'd be faced with a seating arrangement, they would make sure they sat on complete opposite sides of the space. Luckily for them, Hotch always avoided pairing them out of fear of the unprofessional nature of their bickering anyway.
Though they had non verbally decided to keep their interactions to a minimum, the lingering agreement to attend Spencer's chess event was consuming them. Knowing how awkward it'd be to be alone together. Especially after how they annihilated each others feelings in their play of battle insurgency.
Lydia paced back and forth in her bedroom. She couldn't believe she was still going to go through with it. But she wouldn't let him defame her moral compass too. She was much too headstrong.
She decided to wear a dark sweater and skinny jeans, paired with her black boots. Without being sure what the attire would be like, she chose what she felt most comfortable in. She wasn't going to put in more effort than necessary. He didn't deserve that, she thought.
As she sat perched on the edge of her bed after zipping her boots, her phone rang from her bed side table. She internally groaned, knowing exactly who would be calling. She clicked the answer button on her screen and raised it to her ear.
"I was wondering when you'd call."
"I need your address, I'm leaving now to pick you up." Spencer requested over the line begrudgingly. She could hear his keys fumble in his fingers in the background.
"What happened to being a passenger Princess?"
"I still don't know what that means."
"There's a lot of things you don't know apparently."
"Lydia we are about to spend a significant amount of time together, I'd rather not—"
"My address is 567 MacArthur Boulevard. See you soon, Princess." She hung up and slid the phone in her back pocket. Grabbing a purse off off the rack in her closet, she began packing whatever she'd need. She barely knew anything about chess, let alone what would happen at a tournament.
Her eyes darted around her room. She knew most of her things would be packed away within the next couple of days, but she savored every moment remaining in her apartment. She had lived there so long she couldn't remember what the walls looked like bare. Or how sound carried when there wasn't anything to muffle the echo.
On her bookshelf in the corner sat her Polaroid camera. She bought it when she first got deployed over seas, so she could send Anna pictures of her travels. Digital cameras weren't yet a luxury she could afford.
