Untouchable

Poison (S1E13)

Rain was such a strange thing in Lydia's mind. The sound of it hitting the window next to her was soft and gentle, and so many people spoke of it like it was cleansing or refreshing. But all Lydia had to attribute it to was mud and sickness. It didn't leave her excited for spring. She didn't think of it as food for flowers or a new start. She thought of floods. Confinement. Tears...

"What's up with you?" Spencer asked, startling Lydia out of her thoughts.

"What's up with me? What's up with you! You're late!" she responded, watching him sit across from her at the booth and put down his coffee.

"I just got back from a case last night," he defended. "I figured you wouldn't mind if I took a little extra time to take a shower before leaving."

She looked up at his hair to find it was indeed damp, but it could easily be from the weather outside. "Fine, you get a pass. Also, I don't need you anyway," she joked.

His face changed to one of hurt. "Wow. I mean, you don't, but-"

"Sarcasm, Spencer." She couldn't help the grin spreading across her face. "Although, I am doing alright so far. I'm working on these extra assignments my criminology professor gave me. How was your case?"

"It went well. Found the unsub, saved the kid."

She nodded. "That's great!"

And they descended into silence, as they had the last time they'd met, both of them working on their own assignments.

After Lydia and Spencer had talked about helping her get her PhD, they'd made plans to meet off hours at a coffee shop so that Spencer could give her some advice for speeding up the college process. It had been terrifying at first. She'd been ready to completely back out, but Spencer had been insanely patient with her, able to convince her (after some rambling and statistics) that she was more than capable. He'd advised her who to talk to and what to ask teachers about their courses and so on to organize her thoughts. And then he just... sat with her as she worked. If she was ever confused on an assignment, he had her back. It was reassuring.

About halfway through their meeting, Spencer had put away his paperwork in favor of a book, but he found his pace excruciatingly slow. He wanted to invest himself in it, but he couldn't stop himself from looking up at her when he knew she wouldn't notice.

When she was extremely focused, her teeth would pull mindlessly on the dead skin on her lips. That's what she'd been doing when he got there and saw her gazing out the window, not even realizing he'd walked in. But he hadn't wanted to push her on that. And now all her energy was focused on her online work.

He also noticed another small tick when she was struggling with a question, because she always did it before asking him for help.

"How long have you worn a ring?" he asked her, watching her spin it loosely around her knuckle. It was a thick silver band, which was clearly too big for her fingers, and she was constantly switching it between the pointer and middle finger on her right hand.

She raised an eyebrow, but her manor was curious, rather than questioning. "I've had this ring since I was 16. Why do you ask?"

"I've just never seen you wear it before, is all."

"It was my dad's wedding ring," she confided. "And you're right. I don't wear it when I go on cases, because getting latex gloves on and off is hard enough and I'm terrified of losing it."

He took this answer gracefully, but Lydia could tell he was dying to ask why she had her father's wedding ring rather than him. And before she could go back to her work, he spoke up again.