Spencer haphazardly wandered around the city, until he found himself outside the 7 World Trade Center.
The concept of time had left him. He couldn't be certain how long he had been there. It wasn't until rain began to drizzle. He wiped his glasses and pushed them up on the bridge of his nose.
"Spence." JJ ran out from a car, holding an umbrella and jogging over to cover him. "What are you doing here?"
JJ ushered him into the car and out of the rain.
"Reid, you shouldn't be here?" Prentiss concurred.
"I don't even recall how I ended up here," Spencer admitted. "I'm going to go."
"We'll give you a ride," JJ offered.
"No. Hotch detailed you here. I'll take the subway." Spencer waved to them and left the car before they could stop him. He ran through the rain taking cover under the canopy of a coffee shop. He could smell the fresh brew of coffee. A bell dinged as the door opened and someone stepped out, holding the door open so that Spencer could step inside. Spencer was drawn in by the smell of the coffee, even though he had not intended to enter.
Spencer patted down his damp hair. He studied the menu, settling on a Vanilla Latte. He placed his order and waited as the barista made his drink. Spencer leaned against the wall and sunk is hands into his pocket.
The bell dinged again.
"What horrible weather we have today." The newcomer proclaimed.
"Mrs Ricci, what can we get for you today?" The barista beamed.
"Oh, the usual sweetheart. Me and Mr Ricci are creatures of habit."
Spencer pushed himself off the wall, his interested peaked by the voice he had just heard. He glanced sideways and saw a woman dressed in a long, beige trench coat and riding boots, with a black golf umbrella tucked under her arm. Spencer's eyes narrowed as he placed her. Her voice was a dead ringer for the woman on the love stream. But he couldn't be sure about her face. The visual they had had been soddy at best and the unsubs had done their best to obscure their faces from the camera.
"Coming right up, ma'am."
"Take your time honey. I'm not in any rush." The woman smiled at the barista. "Don't particularly fancy stroll through that downpour in a hurry, even if I don't have very far to walk," she casually conversed with Spencer. "You on the other hand dear, look quite washed up if you don't mind me saying so."
"Not at all. The rain took me by surprise," Spencer improvised.
"There is more to it than that," The woman persisted. "I know pain when I see it. My husband tells me that I can read people emotions like no one else he knows."
"It's just been a hectic 24 hours." Spencer pouted.
"I see. I hope you find a way back to the whoever it is that you miss."
"I hope so too. Wait, how did you know..." Spencer was startled.
"I told you, I just know emotions." The woman adjusted her grip on the umbrella. "You're not from around here." The woman presented it as more of a statement.
"That obvious," Spencer played along.
The woman shrugged but moved the conversation along. "What brings you to the city?"
"Oh, I'm just here for a few days for an event." Spencer attempt to divulge enough information to keep her interested but also not give away too much. The barista called out his name and handed him his coffee.
"Spencer. Your name is Spencer." the woman asked.
"Yes." He tried to not draw to much attention.
"Huh. Strange."
"My name. It's actually not all that rare. It's number ten on the rank for boy's name beginning with the letter S. Around 124697 individuals have the recorded name of Spencer across the United States."
"Wow. You are well informed. What I meant was that I haven't heard that name often and now I have heard it twice in less than 12 hours. What a coincidence." The woman speculated."
"That is probably just your mind playing tricks on you." Spencer suggested as he took a swig of his coffee, ignoring the searing of his tongue.
"How so?" The woman prodded further.
"Baader-Meinh of phenomenon, or as it is more commonly referred to, frequency illusion. It essential proposed a cognitive bias after you first notice something. So, when you do hear or see that thing in subsequent times, you have a tendency to notice it more and there for believe that it has a higher frequency. It's a form of selection bias."
The woman cocked her head.
Spencer continued. "For example, if you buy a car. You might notice every car of the brand and model more often. Thus, you assume you are seeing it more but in reality, it's just that your conscious mind is more aware. Same with TV ads or the 11:11 phenomena. It's a classic case of apophenia. Finding patterns where there are none."
"Interesting theory."
Spencer opens his mouth to thank her but the barista interrupts. "Dr Reid?"
Spencer turns to the barista, "Yes?"
"You have a call." She handed him the phone.
"Excuse me a moment." Spencer pressed the phone to his ear and stepped away from Mrs Ricci. "Hello?"
"Reid, where are you? Why aren't you answering you phone. I have called you no less than nine times. I was just about to send out a search party for you. It's a good job I checked your credit card purchases and saw that you used it in that coffee shop." Penelope huffed into the receiver.
"Sorry Garcia. I'm on my way back now."
"Fine but hurry up. Oh, and Spencer. Next time I call you better answer. You scared me." Penelope abruptly ended the call, leaving Spencer gaping at the phone. He handed the phone back to the barista.
"Dr Spencer Reid," Mrs Ricci cooed in admiration. "Not an MD though. PhD?"
"Yeah, three of them," he replied. "I'm curious though how did you guess I wasn't a medical doctor?"
"I know doctors, Spencer. They always have their phone or pagers in their hands." Spencer nodded slowing in comprehension. "Now let's not skirt around it. Three PhD's. That is impressive. You can't be older than thirty. Now I'm intrigued. What is your story Dr Reid?"
"Thirty- four, actually. Umm... there isn't really much of a story. I graduated high school early, so I went to college early."
"Don't understate. "How old where you when you graduated high school?"
"Twelve."
Mrs Ricci nodded her head slowly and in awe. "A young genius. What is you IQ?"
"I don't believe you can quantify genius, but it's 187." Spencer fished his phone out of his pocket, he could feel it vibrate in his palm. He frowned as her read the message. "I'm sorry but I really have to go. It was so enlightening talking with you," Spencer hesitated as he chose his words.
"Of course, don't let me keep you. But before you go Dr Reid. I'm Francesca Ricci. I am a treasurer at The New York Academy of Science. We are holding our annual gala two days from now. If you are still in the city, you must come."
Spencer smirked before he turned back to her. He knew that once she learned about his academic prowess, she would not be able to resist. "Well Mrs Ricci. It just so happens that that is the very event I am here to attend."
Francesca smiled back at him. "Wonderful. That is wonderful news. We are delighted you could make the trip."
Spencer opened the door of the coffee shop to leave. "I look forward to seeing you again soon, Mrs Ricci." Spencer strolled out into the Central Plaza, the sun peeking out from behind some clouds. The rain had passed.