tunnel vision

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CRESSIDA

In my experience, you could tell a lot about someone from their home. For example, in Reid's apartment I saw an endless amount of books carefully organised and stacked around the entirety of the apartment. The types of books told me he valued knowledge.

I picked up the one closest to me and inspected the well worn cover. It was old, leather bound, and so used that the title had worn off.

My bag was already in his bedroom. I had argued that I didn't want to steal his bed, that I should sleep on the couch, but he wasn't having a bar of it. He kept telling me that it was unlikely that he would even sleep, and that if he did it would be broken and otherwise not improved by being in his bed. That this was my first night out of captivity in years, that I may need to collapse in a heap and do so in a room where I could be by myself and not have to worry about anyone entering.

I gave up the argument when I realised he was right.

"One cup of tea." Reid said as he walked over to me, handing me a mug as I stood in his living area.

"Thank you." The scent of chamomile hit me with the steam as I took it in hand. Silence hung heavy around us, neither of us really knew what to do or say. It was just the two of us now, without a buffer between us it was difficult to figure out how to approach it all.

When I planned running from the Horsemen, dreamt of getting to the BAU and finally meeting Spencer in person, it had never been like this. But I guess that my daydreams about it were always just that, a fantasy. It had been something I thought about to help me escape what had been my situation. And now here it was, my new reality was what I had always wanted. And I didn't know what to do with it.

"How do we... how do we navigate this?" I asked, looking up from my cup of tea and into his eyes. He looked as unsure as I felt, eyebrows lightly furrowed as he tried to think about what the next step could be.

"I..." He trailed off before he looked to the lounge. "What if we start from the beginning again? We just sit down and talk as if we don't know each other?" It seemed to be a better option than anything else we might be able to think of. At least right now. I nodded, and he moved to sit on the lounge first. I followed suit, pulling my knees to my chest as I turned to face him.

"I'm Dr Spencer Reid." He held his hand towards me, and I let my knees fall so I was sitting criss-cross before taking a hold of his hand.

"Dr Cressida Stiel." I replied, trying not to focus on the way his hand practically engulfed mine.

"It's nice to finally meet you, I've heard about your work." He said, letting go of my hand.

"Oh?"

"I read your thesis for your psychiatry doctorate. On somatoform disorder." He said, I smiled and looked at my hands. "That was your second doctorate, right?"

"Following mathematics, yes." I answered, changing the grip I had on the mug. A fidget to show that I was still trying to get comfortable in this situation. "You have a mathematics PhD as well, don't you?"

"Yeah, as well as chemistry and engineering." He smiled gently as I looked into his eyes.

"Do they help you with your job?" I asked, he looked down to his cup of coffee.

"Sometimes." He looked back up. "Depends on the case as to whether what I have in my head is helpful. Mathematics is probably the most useful of the PhDs, helps with geoprofiling and finding patterns. Is psychiatry helpful? I can see how mathematics and computer sciences go hand in hand, but that..."

"My um... my dad was a psychiatrist. My mother was a mathematician, she was actually working towards another PhD in physics. My first two doctorates were for them, the third was what used to be my passion."

The Ghost of Princeton ||Spencer Reid||Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora