The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

17 |Old Friends

On Thursdays they had no classes, and many of the first-year students had taken to spending their Wednesday nights together, usually at some local coffeehouse or bar. This week was one of the latter, and with no other plans, Bianca agreed when some of her closest classmates pleaded for her to join them for once. She wasn't much for bars, but a few hours spent with friends never hurt, especially right after midterms when everyone was looking to de-stress.

They chose the Georgetown Piano Bar, a small place near the main campus that boasted popular piano players and cocktails named for famous musicians. It was a more vibrant atmosphere than most, the piano man cracking jokes between sets and several patrons singing along between drinks. Around the bar, a small group of her classmates were knocking back shots while the remaining students watched with amusement, sipping from glasses of various colors and contents. Presently she was seated between Aiden – an aspiring corporate lawyer with a penchant for political debate – and Tanvi while placing wagers on which of the students partaking in shots would succumb to inebriation first.

"Definitely Nelson," Aiden was saying. "Guy's the shortest of the bunch, there's no way he can last more than five, tops."

Tanvi eyed the crowd, carefully making her selection. "I'm telling you, my money's on Wagner. He might boast about his wild college days, but I guarantee not one of his keg stand stories are true. Bianca, that leaves you."

Bianca wished she had the option of phoning a friend. A profiler would be far better at making that sort of call. What would Spencer have said? Sipping from some combination of champagne and peach schnapps, named for Tori Amos, she surveyed her friends. Behavior was the easiest thing to analyze, that much she knew. "Montgomery," she decided. He seemed the most uncomfortable, staring at the growing succession of glasses slowly accumulating on the bar. If she could read his behavior even half as well a profiler, she figured she stood a fair chance at winning the annual pass to the National Geographic Museum another student had put up for grabs.

Just as Aiden was starting to ask for her reasoning, someone else interrupted. "Bianca!" Garcia was making her way through the crowd towards her, the drink in her hand nearly the same color as her dress. How did they manage to keep running into each other? Though out of all the BAU members, not counting Spencer, Garcia was the one she felt most comfortable around. "Fancy seeing you here. I wouldn't have pegged you as a piano bar sort of person."

Bianca hopped down from the barstool to greet her. "It's becoming a bit of a Wednesday tradition with my classmates. Midterms were yesterday, so we traded coffee for shots." Her eyes trailed over to the group still working away at the small glasses of alcohol. "Or at least, some of us did. But as far as bars go, I'm pretty impressed. The piano's a nice touch."

Garcia glanced in the direction of the red piano, the man at the keyboard playing a rousing rendition of an Elton John song. "I've been here a few times on weeknights. You know the piano man's name is Spencer?"

What were the odds? There was no physical resemblance between the two men, but it wasn't a stretch to say that Reid could probably match the skills of the musician with only a few minutes of practice. "For some reason, I'm not surprised," she laughed.

"Speaking of which, how's our Spencer?" Garcia asked.

Bianca furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? Don't you see him at work?" The team was away on a case at the moment, likely fast asleep in a motel at this hour. Or at least, she hoped they were. The notion of all of them out so late hunting for an unsub made her uneasy.

"Well, yeah," Penelope said. "But he doesn't talk very much about her with us, you know? Like, he'll mention her sometimes if it's relevant to the conversation or if we prod him on the subject, but otherwise he'd rather focus on different things. He talks to you about her, though, doesn't he?" The analyst was clearly concerned about her friend, and she was reminded again of that close, unbreakable bond shared between members of the BAU.