Natalie

Chapter 8

"So, how does this work?" Natalie asked Spencer as they walked through the front door of his apartment. There was a musty smell of old books inside. When Natalie turned her head, she realized where that smell was coming from. In front of her was a huge bookshelf holding books that seemed new and decades old.

"I have an extra bedroom that I can help you setup however you want," Spencer said putting his bags on the couch. He then straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. "I'll take you in a little while to meet Penelope, she agreed to check on you and stuff when I'm working,"

"That's the girl that found the murderer right?" Natalie asked.

"We call them unsubs, but yes," Spencer nodded.

"I kind of have a lot of stuff, you mind if we set up that room now?" Natalie asked.

"Oh yeah of course!" Spencer jumped to grab one of Natalie's boxes. He carried it to a room down a small hallway.

Natalie followed, gazing at her surroundings as she walked. It was a pretty big apartment for a guy living on his own. When they arrived in the room, Natalie put her stuff down on the bed. "So, I'm going to take online classes here, while you go to work, which I assume means you travel a lot,"

"Yeah," Spencer said putting a box in front of the door. "That's why I have Penelope helping me out. She's going to be a little much at first for you, but she'll grow on you,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Natalie asked.

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"Natalie Cindy! I have been dying to meet you!"

Natalie smiled with a look on her face that said 'What the hell am I getting myself into?!' at the woman who came barreling through the elevator doors. Those were the elevator doors of the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. 

Penelope Garcia approached Natalie and gave her a big hug. It was something she always did with new people her loved ones cared about. She wanted to know that she would always be there for them in need. That was the kind of attitude Natalie had never experienced before. Penelope was out there, but she cared a hell of a lot about the people around her.

"Hi," Natalie giggled uncomfortably as Penelope hugged her. 

Garcia pulled away and smiled brightly, "I'm Penelope, but they all call me Garcia around here. I don't really travel so whatever you need, I can help you with! Even if you just want to hang out in my office or something, just drop in," she said.

"Thanks," Natalie said.

Spencer smiled and brought Natalie over to his desk. There was a mini bookshelf next to his computer. It contained a few encyclopedias full of information that could be helpful for cases as well as books just simply for leisure. Being a genius, he tended to have a lot more time on his hands and sometimes a good read was all Spencer needed to keep his mind focused on important things. 

Mesmerized, Natalie picked up Spencer's copy of the The Sign of Four and glanced at Spencer, "You like Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes novels?" Natalie asked, with a bit of a smirk.

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and yes, I do," Spencer said snatching the book back.

Natalie tried to hold in a laugh, but couldn't do it, "Well, excuse me,"

Spencer rolled his eyes, "Why do you care anyway?" he asked.

"I'm just curious because I heard somewhere that people of law enforcement don't like reading these types of novels since they don't depict real life crime properly," Natalie said.

"Well, I'd say that's inaccurate considering this was written in the late nineteenth century and unless a random NYPD detective has a time machine, I don't think this would really bother anyone," Spencer put the book back on the shelf. 

Natalie opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by the sound of Hotch's voice ringing through the bullpen. He had announced that the team was to meet in ten minutes. Unsure of what to do, Natalie scooted Spencer out of his chair and took the novel back off of the shelf. She sat down and opened to page one.

"Glad to see you're making yourself at home," Spencer laughed.

Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat Morocco case.

Spencer glanced at the book again and frowned. "Can't you just read another one?" he asked.

"Don't you have a case to discuss with the team?"

"Just pick out another one Natalie,"

"What does it matter Spencer? I can pick another one and the second you go to the meeting room, I'll go right back to this one,"

Spencer sighed, taking the book, "All of the novels are on that shelf for a reason, Natalie. This one, in particular hits too close to home, okay?"

Natalie glanced at The Narrative of John Smith and The Parliament of Fowles. She wondered what stories were behind those books. Maybe he would tell her, or maybe not. Truthfully, it didn't matter, she respected Spencer and if he wanted to be open about that stuff he would be.

"I'll tell you what I mean eventually, just not right now," Spencer said.

Natalie nodded, and picked up an encyclopedia. Surely, there were no strange stories behind those books.

Spencer smiled and turned his feet toward the meeting room. The book in his hand didn't have any direct meaning to him, but he liked to read it as a reminder. The opening paragraph of the novel was Sherlock taking a dosage of cocaine. It was a drug that consumed this genius, much like dilaudid consumed Spencer.

With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. 

Truthfully, Spencer used the book to get passed that hard point in his life. Overtime, he began using it as a symbol of what his life could have been. Maybe letting Natalie read it wouldn't be such a bad idea. After all, Spencer didn't want her to go through what he went through, whether it was forced on him or not. As he approached the door to the meeting room, Spencer took one more glance at the book, and decided to give it to Natalie.

Finally he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction. 

The fourth sentence of the novel escaped Spencer's brain and echoed through his mind. He knew that satisfaction, but he also knew the guilt all too well. 

Natalie walked to Spencer, who was lost in his thoughts, and took the book out of his hands. "You should probably go in now," Natalie pointed to the team who were waiting for him.

Spencer nodded, but before he entered the room, he said, "Take your time on that one,"

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A/N

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but here's one! I know this isn't really focused on Natalie but it'll start working itself out don't worry :)

Comment what you guys think and make sure you vote!!