peace . spencer reid

two

Mary looked once more in her rear view mirror, wiping a smudge of lipstick away from her mouth. I just like to look nice, she told herself as she checked her appearance over again in the mirror, smoothing over the curls she had set in her black hair early that morning and adjusting her blunt cut bangs. Checking the clock on her dash she huffed, 7:10, twenty minutes early. Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing to sit in the cafe and get herself a cup of tea, the beverage she had yesterday morning wasn't half bad. 

Making sure she had everything in her purse, Mary exited her car and began to walk towards the quaint coffee shop, heeled boots clacking on the pavement. She almost wished she brought her laptop so she could get some work done as she waited for Spencer. But maybe it would be healthy practice to be alone with her thoughts, at least that's probably what her therapist would say.

The bell above the door rang as she entered, and Mary offered the barista a warm smile and a wave before she began to look around the shop, scoping out a comfortable spot for her to wait. As her eyes moved around the assorted sofas and tables, her gaze landed on a familiar head of curly brown hair. Mary tilted her head and noticed the man from yesterday morning sitting at a table playing with his hands and bouncing his leg nervously. She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips slightly, huh.

"Spencer?" she spoke quietly, offering the young man a light wave as his head darted up, his eyes landing on the woman standing in front of him who looked impeccably well put together. 

"Mary," he smiled, wow he had a beautiful smile, and Mary took the expression as an invitation for her to sit down across from him, "How are you, I didn't think you'd show up so early."

Mary laughed lightly and nodded at the man across from her, "I could say the same."

With blush lightly dusting his features, Spencer let out an embarrassed chuckle, "Uh, yeah, I showed up at seven. I don't like to be late."

"Mm, neither do I."

Spencer nodded for a moment and then as if realization hit him in an instant he frowned, "I am so sorry by the way. Again, I guess. I hope I didn't make you late, or get you reprimanded, or fired-"

"Woah! You did not get me fired," Mary interrupted, "I got to work on time, no one questioned anything, they were just happy to get their coffees."

Mary watched as the tension left Spencer's shoulders as he left out a relieved sigh.

"Besides, I have an interview this afternoon so hopefully I won't be working there anymore anyways," Mary spoke softly as she reached into her purse for the purple sweater (freshly hand washed and air dried of course). 

Spencer furrowed his brows, "Oh? Do you not like your job?"

Looking up at Spencer from her focus on her purse she smiled, "No, I love my job, I was just asked to interview for a much better, and honestly higher paying job."

"Asked to interview?" Spencer questioned as Mary retrieved the sweater out of her purse and placed it on the table in front of them, "You must be quite good at what you do."

Maybe in any other situation, Mary would be questioning why this man she just met was so interested in her life. But as she sat across from Spencer in this cosy cafe much too early in the morning the thought didn't cross her mind, she felt like she was speaking to an old friend.

"I'm a personal assistant. Right now I work for a lead editor at the publishing company up the street, she must like my work because apparently she was vocal enough about it for other employers to hear," she explained, aware of how Spencer's eyes seemed to be locked on her face, a look of genuine interest in what she was saying.

"Publishing? Do you do a lot of reading?" 

Mary laughed, "Oh, tons, just most of them are children's books. The company I work for is a children's book publication, so you can imagine how many storybooks cross my bosses desk in a day."

Spencer laughed in return, Mary was shocked at how genuine it sounded, "I think those are maybe the only type of books I don't read. Did you know the first children's book was written in 1658 by John Amos Comenius? It was called Orbis Pictus and it was an illustrated textbook for children who were learning to read."

Mary blinked at the man sitting across from her, slightly confused at what he had just said. Not about the content but how he dove into a fact that perfectly had to do with her occupation. 

In her silence Spencer shrunk into himself like a turtle going back into his shell, "Sorry, I didn't mean to weird you out..."

"No!" Mary quickly remarked, "No, I'm not weirded out at all! I didn't know that. How do you know that?"

Lifting his eyes that had refocused on his nervous fidgeting with his hands, "I read a lot," he responded, a small smile attempting to show. 

Smiling back at him in order to discourage him from being embarrassed Mary spoke again, "Well I do still get quite a few books for kids learning to read, but I don't know if I would classify them as textbooks, I think those go to a different publisher."

Spencer stopped trying to hold back the grin on his face and nodded his head, reaching out to take the sweater that had been sitting on the table between the two, as he went to place it in his own bag he stopped for a moment, "Did you wash this?"

"Well I would be pretty pissed off if I leant someone an article of clothing and they didn't wash it," Mary responded, some sarcasm laced in her tone. 

Unfolding the sweater and holding it in front of his eyes, Spencer continued, "This is pure cotton, it would have shrank in the wash. Did you... hand wash this?"

"Of course, the tag said one hundred percent cotton, I wouldn't want to destroy a borrowed sweater," Mary replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Spencer refolded the garment and placed it delicately in his bag, "I don't mean for it to sound like I assumed you would wreck my sweater, but I did give my one hundred percent cotton sweater to a stranger so I had come to terms with the fact that when I got it back I may not be able to wear it again."

"Well I'm a personal assistant, I would hope I know how certain garments needed to be washed," Mary spoke matter-of-factly. 

"I suppose you would," Spencer smiled. 

The two fell into silence after that, just sitting together at their table and listening to the bustling cafe around them.

"Well," Spencer broke the silence, "I have to get to work."

Mary was taken out of the fantasy she had been living in just moments ago, she wasn't at a cafe talking with her old friend. She was giving a sweater back to an overly generous stranger.

"Oh, of course, sorry, I hope I didn't keep you," she responded, the previous confidence gone from her voice, not wanting to say goodbye but not brave enough to ask to see him again.

Spencer lingered for a moment, his jaw shifting as if he were going to say something.

"No, don't worry," He quickly uttered, staring at Mary one moment longer before looking up at the ceiling and then down to his watch, "Sorry, I really have to go. Good luck at your interview."

"Thanks," Mary muttered as she watched the kind, tall, ridiculously handsome man run out of the cafe. 

Looking back at the table in front of her, Mary tapped her nails against the wooden surface and frowned.