LAUGHTER LINES.
chapter four.
Reid was coming back from a guest lecture at Georgetown when he saw Gwen leaving Hotch's office. It had only been a couple days since she had taken down an Unsub with a skillet. He knew she had to come in and make an official statement. He was just hoping that she would finish before he got back. She still weirded him out, and this wasn't a feeling he was comfortable with.
As he took his seat, he watched Gwen shake Hotch's hand. Morgan laughed quietly as Reid quickly started on a file. The former Chicago cop found the young genius's reactions to Gwen to be really interesting. He wasn't sure what she had done to Reid before, but now he really wanted to know. It seemed like every time someone mentioned her, Dr. Reid's ears would turn pink and he would look at the ground.
Hotch and Gwen were walking towards the elevators when the woman spotted Reid. "Give me a moment?" she asked the senior agent. She smiled apologetically before walking over to Reid. "Excuse me, Dr. Reid?" she spoke quietly.
Reid looked up. "Y-yes," he stuttered.
Gwen let out a small laugh. "I just wanted to thank you for backing me up at the theater. Validation rom two people are better than one. It distracted Casting, and I was able to help my niece," she held out her hand. "I can't tell you how much it means to me."
Reid stared at her hand for a second before taking it in his. Her thin fingers wrapped around his palm. Reid smiled at how soft her hands were. "How is she? You're niece I mean."
"She was freaked out, and hasn't gone to school since then, but Jenny took her to a spa. I'd be with them, but I needed to settle some things with Agent Hotchner, and then I have to get back to work on the mountain of cases I have," Gwen laughed slightly.
"That's good. Spas are great for relaxing after a traumatic event such as the one your niece went through," Reid babbled.
Reid liked this Gwen. She wasn't out there, and her eyes didn't hold mischief. Instead they were gentle and genuine. This Gwen didn't keep the doctor on the tips of his toes. This one made him relax and feel comfortable as they talked.
Gwen turned to leave and smiled over her shoulder. "Have a good day Dr. Reid."
Reid watched the woman leave as Morgan leaned forward in his seat. "If you keep staring at her, then people will begin to think you like her."
Reid blushed and quickly started to work on his files once more.
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That night when Spencer entered his home, he thumbed through his mail and pulled a handwritten addressed envelope. The post mark gave New Orleans, LA as its origin. This would be the rehearsal dinner invitation to Ethan's wedding.
Ethan's request had come as a surprise only a couple months ago. Reid had gotten a phone call from Ethan saying he was in D.C. So, the two grabbed an early Saturday lunch.
Spencer and Ethan sat in a diner and quietly at their meals. In college they had been rivals, but after the BAU's case in the French Quarter, the two of them had started talking again. They talked on the phone twice a month, and since they were no longer in competition, their friendship was a simple one where they discussed interesting things in their lives, and currents events.
"I asked Marisa to marry me," Ethan spoke suddenly.
Reid blinked. His friend was talking about the woman he had been dating for three years. She came from an old Louisiana family with lots of money, and had an English degree from Berkeley. Ethan was a lucky guy, to find someone who accepted everything he was. She was the first woman who hadn't run away when she found out that the Jazz musician was an alcoholic.
"Congratulations?" Reid asked. Marisa could have said no.
"We'll get married in July," Ethan smiled. "I'm actually in D.C. because, Marisa has a friend here. They were college roommates."
"Are you going to do something traditional?" Reid asked referring to the ceremony. Ethan wasn't very religious and neither was Marisa, but her family was, so there was no telling how much influence they would have in the planning.
Ethan nodded. "Marisa's mother is planning everything, and nobody wants to cross her path. I know we have a loose friendship, but we did go through college together. I want to ask you something."
Reid looked around the filled tables. Here they looked like they belonged, but if you were to put the two in any type of formal setting and you were looking at two fish out of water. Reid tried to imagine Ethan sitting at a long table eating a five course meal, and it didn't feel right.
The vinyl booths and Formica table tops were welcoming and comfortable.
"Spencer, will you be my Best Man?" Ethan asked.
Spencer choked on his coffee. He coughed and sputtered for a moment and looked at the ground to avoid the stares from the other diner patrons. "Me? Why?"
"I've know you the longest. I mean we've been friend since we were thirteen. I think that you would be the only logical option."
Reid stumbled to find something to say. Some creative reason to get out of such important duties. "But I don't know what's going to be going on with the BAU at the time."
"I'm sure you can get some time off for a friends weddings," Ethan shook his head. He wasn't going to let Spencer Reid weasel his way out of this. "It's a week of your time. The BAU can let you take a break for a week. They have scores of profilers that can fill your spot if they need to."
Notheydon't. Reid thought. He did have vacation time, and going to the wedding would be fun. Sort of. He didn't really want to be a part of it. Wasn't the Best Man in charge of planning the bachelor party? The part where Ethan would get his last lap dance (hopefully) from a stripper and other crazy things like that.
The genius let out a sigh. "Okay," he smiled. He couldn't turn the honor down, so he might as well ask Morgan what he would do in his place.
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Gwen stood in her small office as she watched a client leave. They looked around warily, as if being seen in such a place was a crime. Gwen closed her door and locked it tightly before walking back over to her wooden desk. She looked at the three checks that she had gotten for her services as a private investigator.
Being a private investigator didn't pay a lot unless you had the right clients. A lot of wealthy women would through down a fair amount of money just to see if their politician husband was cheating on them. Gwen liked the cases where she was asked to find the missing children who ran away. She had friends in private security firms all over the east coast who brought her in when questionable items were stolen from their client's homes. Each case brought her more than decent payments, and she sometimes got more is she closed the case quickly and without too much chatter.
She picked up the checks and pulled the first one out and looked at it. "House payment," she said as she let it flutter onto the hard wood surface. She pulled out the next one. "Office payment," she sighed as she frowned at the last one. "Bills." She sat down and pulled her purse over. She pulled two more checks from her wallet and smiled. "Travel funds," she sang.
Soon Gwen would be making her way to New Orleans to see one of her best friends marry the love of her life. Her parents would take over all investigations for the week she was gone. Mary Thompson wrote mystery novels, and had helped her husband on many a case. Surely she and her former detective husband could find a couple cheating husbands.
Her entire time at UC Berkeley (Bezerkeley seemed like a more appropriate term to Gwen) was made BEARable with Marisa as a roommate. Both were English majors, they had gotten their Master's together, and now they were both working on that final Doctorate degree. Marisa was doing hers on Chaucer, while Gwen decided that she was going to analyze Shakespeare's rhetoric.
Marisa had convinced the journalist to pursue the Ph.D. with her. Even if Gwen was doing what she had always wanted to do. The Ph.D. would help her when it came to setting up a repertoire as an experience writer. "Dr. Gwenevere Thompson writes articles that shed light on Societies darkest secrets," Marisa's voice chimed in Gwen's head, and she had to chuckle at the southern accent.
Gwen would normally take one of her guy friends to Marisa's wedding, but this time, she had more important duties. She was the Maid of Honor, and she had to take this job seriously. She couldn't go chasing after a friend on Bourbon Street.
"Maybe I'll find some nice southern gentleman who is smart," she sighed. But she knew that wouldn't happen. Even on the off chance she did find someone, she didn't do relationships, let alone long distance ones.
Most men ran when they found out that Gwen dug into peoples personal lives a little too often, and almost always she dug too much. If they stayed after that, they certainly didn't stay very long when they saw the teenagers who loved to spend enormous amounts of time with their favorite aunt. This was happening even before Elise's death, and college was too important for her to waste her time with dating.
Gwen packed her things up and laughed at the thought of a vacation romance. "Yeah right," she scoffed. "A wedding would be the last place I would find someone to date."