NO GOOD DEED || S. REID

2.3

DINERS WERE WHERE KATHARINE SPENT MOST OF HER ADULT LIFE. On missions that ran particularly long, it was safe to say that you could find Katharine and her team sitting in one of the corner booths. They would all look tired, worn down, and beaten, but just about nothing would stop them from wearing smiles on their faces as they told each other stories about themselves and how they viewed the world around them.

Now, at eight twenty-three in the morning, not much has changed. Once again, Katharine found herself sitting in a diner and enjoying what the chef had proclaimed as his best wake-me-up meal. This time, instead of occupying a corner booth with her equally distressed teammates, she was sharing a two-person table with the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid.

They were silent, for the most part, just enjoying each other's company. Occasionally Spencer would prattle off some facts about diners and the food, which Katharine found endearing. She would smile as he told her about the first diner, which was thought to have been established in Providence, Rhode Island in 1872. By a local entrepreneur, Walter Scott, to which Katharine sent her thanks to.

"But the oldest standing diner is the White Horse Tavern in Newport, Rhode Island. It wasn't a restaurant until 1673 when William Mayes bought the property," Spencer said, working his way through the rest of his scrambled eggs.

Katharine nodded, raising the ceramic coffee cup to her lips. She reveled in the warmth the beverage gave off, even if it was roughly sixty-three and climbing outside. Fahrenheit, not Celsius. "I think I've been there before. In 2009, I think. A mission in Providence where our unsub booked it South. We tracked them to the Newport area and had a meal there. It's a fancy little place now. It's even got its own raw bar and everything!"

"I don't think I've ever been to Rhode Island," Spencer told her truthfully, having finished his scrambled eggs and moved onto finishing his coffee.

When Katharine looked back at her watch, she noted that they had about thirty minutes before Spencer had to be in for work. She looked up and signaled to their waitress, asking for their cheque nonverbally to which the waitress smiled wide and nodded.

"You're not missing out on much," Katharine said, graciously accepting the little black tray and thanking the kind woman. "Rhode Island isn't known for much besides its plantations and silverware, I think?"

"And tennis," Spencer tacked on to the end of her list.

She smiled and nodded, "And tennis."

While Katharine paid the bill, as she had insisted on at the beginning of their meal, Spencer took up the tray of coffees he had paid for. One for Derek, one for Emily, and two more cups for both Spencer and Katharine.

Katharine dropped the cheque off at the hostess stand, having paid in cash plus a generous twenty-dollar tip, before leaving the diner with Spencer in tow. She would drop the genius off at work and then head back home, maybe tend to her garden a bit more. She still had about four days before she was to start work.

She started up her car and pulled out of the parking space when Spencer's phone rang. The brown-haired boy struggled to find his phone for a second, checking both his pants pockets before remembering he had tucked the device into one of the little pockets that decorated his messenger bag. He answered the phone, holding the device between his ear and his shoulder as he tried to close his bag up.

"Reid," he answered, trying not to give away the struggle he had just gone through in trying to answer the phone.

Katharine stayed quiet, a satisfied smile resting on her face. She turned down the radio and tapped her fingers gently along the steering wheel as she tried to ignore whatever conversation he was having. It wouldn't be any of her business until Monday.