|| eight

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eight || "sense memory" season 6, episode 14

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eight || "sense memory" season 6, episode 14

Tate got off a call with a local news station she was keeping from going live with the story in exchange for an exclusive interview before she left the story. She sighed exhaustedly and ran a hand through her already-messy hair as she made her way back to the conference room where Spencer and Emily were working.

"Not excited to be home?" Emily asked.

"I forgot how much I hate L.A. reporters," she said. "And I swear to God, Spencer, if you call me a hypocrite, I can't promise I won't slap you across that pretty, little face of yours."

Spencer only smiled slightly and looked back at his map to hide the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"So what's up with you and that detective?" Emily said.

Tate narrowed her eyes at her friend. "How the hell-"

"You had a fresh coat of nail polish this morning. It's almost nonexistent now."

Tate looked down at her hands to confirm her theory. "Dammit," she muttered.

"So, spill. I know Garcia will have a million questions when we get back, so might as well start preparing."

Tate sighed and threw herself down into a chair beside Emily. "Ex. Sophomore year of college."

Emily covered her mouth to hide a laugh. "You're kidding. Why'd you split? He's cute."

Tate shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I just found out today that he dropped out of college six months after the breakup and went to the academy. Which tracks because I remember him being like an excitable little kid. He was rarely disciplined and self-centered as shit. I can't go out because I have to cram for a test and suddenly I'm neglectful. He just... he always called me prissy and perfectionistic, which is fair enough, I can admit that, but we were in college, ya know? I was a double major, I had shit to get done and it's not my job to baby him."

Spencer pretended not to be listening from the other side of the room, but couldn't help but turn slightly to catch each word. His eyebrows were furrowed, confused as to who would call Tate, of all people, prissy. In his experience, she was one of the funniest girls he'd ever met and he could spend all day debating her on any given topic. She wasn't obsessive, she was passionate, and she always had an opinion. It was one of the things he loved about her.

Emily nodded and listened intently as Tate spoke. "No, you're right. He's not your responsibility... Want me to beat his ass for you?"

Tate snorted out a laugh. "Though I would love to see that, because you would destroy him, it's probably a bad idea. And it was a long time ago. I'm sure he's... a great person now that he actually knows what he's doing with his life."

"You're too good for him anyway," Spencer said quietly.

Tate caught it and her head snapped up, having half forgotten he was in the room. Her cheeks heated up slightly as she smiled. "Thanks, Spence."

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