"The world is so unpredictable. Things happen suddenly, unexpectedly.
We want to feel we are in control of our own existence.
In some ways we are, in some ways we're not.
We are ruled by the forces of chance and coincidence."

~ Paul Auster ~

It was raining heavily the day that Natalie broke up with Mark.

Well, heavily didn't really do it justice, in truth, it was pouring, drowning the roads, and weighing on the roofs and gutters.

Natalie thought this was only fair, her mood was shot to hell so why not the weather too?

...Even though she had been the one who pulled the plug she couldn't help but feel that, sometimes, life. Just. Sucked.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to fall in love, get married, and have kids. Cliche, perhaps, but it wasn't known as the "American Dream" for nothing.

Having been brought up in a foster home Natalie had spent her whole life wishing for a family of her own, if not from being adopted (figuratively or literally) into one, then by creating her own.

Mark was meant to be her gateway to that life.

Yet he had single-handedly destroyed her dreams. First he turned down that football scholarship to Notre Dame, claiming that he wanted to work with his hands rather than waste time with "more school." Then he started pulling away from Natalie, calling her things such as "clingy" and "nosy." And just last week he'd dropped the final bomb.

He didn't believe in marriage.

Let alone marriage and kids.

In fact he never wanted kids.

Ever.

Natalie thought it would have been kinder if he had just ended it himself. But, no. He'd wanted her to do it. To be the one to end it. Well, he got what he wanted. They were over.

Done.

Finite.

Finished.

Still, why did it have to hurt so much? Natalie didn't know. That's what she got, she supposed, for wasting time on a boy two years her junior. She should have just taken her friend's advice and sworn off guys until her degree was complete. Now she had one failed relationship and a stupid B.A. in psychology to show for it.

She didn't even like psychology.

Still, her life wasn't totally forfeit. She was set to take the LSAT in two days, and if she did well enough on that Law school wouldn't be too far off.

Now if the stupid bus could just pull up so she wasn't stuck waiting in front of her boyfrie—

—ex-boyfriend's apartment building. Everything would be great.

BANG

God, she hated Chicago.

Couldn't even go five minutes without someone shooting up a store, or a car, or something. Honestly, Natalie couldn't understand it. Weren't bullets expensive? Wasn't it counter productive to go around burning money...to get money?

And that gunshot sounded rather close, which meant the cops would be called, which meant the bus-if it didn't detour-would be stuck for God knows how long.

This sucked. Natalie didn't know how, but she bet Mark had something to do with this. Probably some last-ditch attempt to screw her over. To ruin her already crappy mood.

"Well, the jokes on you," Natalie thought, "I can just walk home."

A thought that Natalie would quickly come to regret as not soon after she entered her apartment she received a call.

"Hello, is this Natalie Davidson?"

It was the Chicago Police Department calling to inform her of a break-in at the residence of one Mark Green. Apparently she was his listed emergency contact and so it was her whom they felt necessary to inform that Mark had been shot.

That Mark had been murdered.

And they had "strong evidence" to suggest that it was not a crime of passion, or a drug-deal gone wrong. Specifically the presence of a cypher stapled to the victim's shirt collar.

They then proceeded to invite her to their office to go over the details in person-where they began to interrogate the poor girl.

Natalie, already in the throes of shock, didn't even have the sense-of-self to request a lawyer be present. Didn't have the wherewithal, to realize what exactly they were trying to pin on her. What, with just the slightest bit of circumstantial evidence, they would pin on her.

Just another domestic.

But in the end it didn't matter. There was no evidence pointing at Natalie, in fact there was no "evidence" period. The only things extractable from the crime-scene were the things the killer left for the cops to find. Namely the single bullet wound to the head, and the cypher stapled to the collar of the victim.

The case remained open, but unsolved, for a year. Their only suspect-a Natalie Davidson.

Two weeks into the semester and Allison was finally getting into the swing of things. It had taken her a bit to get comfortable with the whole "Teacher's Assistant" position but after some advice from a fellow Graduate Student she had learned how to successfully budget her time, and cater to her professor's demanding personality.

Not to say that her professor was mean, he was just...firm, in his opinion's of how things should (and shouldn't) be done.

Still, sometimes Allison really regretted listening to her Father when he pushed her to continue her education. Sure you can't really do anything beyond entry-level work with a Bachelor's in Chemistry, but that didn't mean she needed to get her doctorate.

Of course, "pushed" was a rather harsh term, if Allison was being honest she would admit that her father had never done more than bring up the possibility. But there was nothing Allison wouldn't do for her father. And even if he hadn't said it, in so many words, it had been heavily implied that nothing would make him happier than having a "doctor" in the family.

Never mind that Sammy had gotten into John Hopkins not a month ago, and-allowing four years for Medical School-was well on her way to becoming an actual doctor.

But Dad didn't talk about Samantha.

Not anymore.

Sometimes Allison really wished her sister had just a little bit less of a stubborn streak in her, but then-she supposed-she must have gotten it from Dad as he was just as unwilling to mend bridges.

Still with school pushing in on her in one direction, and family making itself a nuisance in the other, it was no real surprise that Allison had been feeling incredibly stressed as of late.

Which is why she was so quick to jump on her classmates suggestion—

"A couple of us are meeting at the local bar to watch the Game, I know you can't drink, but you did mention you like football?"

—and had agreed, perhaps a tad too quick, to meet him, and his aforementioned "friends," Sunday.

The week had passed relatively fast and before she knew it Allison was surrounded by a bunch of Graduate Students all settling in to shout at a t.v. for a couple of hours. They had all been less than impressed with her professional wear, but, in her defense, she had come straight from a meeting with her adviser, who had suggested she scratch her latest poem;

"Really, Allison, I know you are pressed for time, but it all seems very...juvenile. Outside of the final stanza I wouldn't claim I'd written any of this."

And, besides, it wasn't her team playing. If it was she wouldn't have been sitting in some bar, watching it all play-out, she would have been sitting in the stadium, watching them kick-butt! (She had briefly considered showing up in her aqua-and-orange team jersey, but people tended to make a scene when they noticed someone supporting the Dolphins, and she didn't feel like getting into it at the moment.)

So she was fine in her "stuffy" (as they had been labeled) clothes. She could relax regardless of what she wore, and besides, she only really knew Kevin, anyway. So it's not as if she cared greatly about the impression she made.

Still, it was nice to get out of the University every once in awhile.

Spencer didn't care for football.

He didn't hate the sport, but he didn't particularly love it either. And it had nothing to do with his intellect, despite what his team thought. Yes, he was a veritable "nerd" but that did not mean he was absolutely un-athletic!

He was an FBI-agent, after all. And, poor shot or not, there was-undeniably-quite a lot of running in his career.

No, Spencer didn't care for football for the simple reason that he was a Vagas-baby, born and raised. Give him a deck of cards any day, he could play you until the cows came home-and in more ways than one.

But tossing around a ball, that wasn't even spherical and had been originally made of pigs-skin? Not his idea of fun. Although he could admit that the company made a large difference. As he had enjoyed that Redskins game he had gone to with J.J. awhile back, even if it hadn't gone the way Gideon hoped.

Not that Spencer really minded, sure he hadn't gained a lover, but he had gained a friend. And those were in rather short supply for "Spence." And J.J. was a great friend, so it wasn't really a loss-who knows if they'd even be talking now if he had "made his move" as Morgan liked to joke.

So while Spencer didn't really care for football, he wasn't totally against meeting up with the team to watch the Super Bowl at a nearby club that Morgan had suggested.

It was so rare that the Team was home to celebrate such mundane things as "the end of the football season." It was so rare that the team was able to celebrate anything but the completion of a particularly trying case, these days. And even then, "celebrate" really meant "high-five" or "stern-nod" in the case of Hotch.

So the fact that they were all free on Sunday? Well, Spencer wasn't going to be the one to rain on any parades. Not when it'd been so long since anyone'd really been able to smile. Elle's departure had hit them hard.

So he was all for football.

"Sometimes," Allison thought, "I can be a real idiot."

Despite the (in retrospect) obvious signs Kevin had been dropping, Allison had been completely oblivious to his attempts to pick-her-up. Sure he may have been "flirting up a storm" if his friend's ribbing's were anything to go off of, but she hadn't seen it.

Of course her eyes had been glued to the screen, like they were supposed to be (why make a Superbowl Party if you weren't going to watch the Super Bowl?) So her dismissive response of;

"nah, I'm fine."

Hadn't been too uncalled for, when Kevin had asked if she'd wanted to go with him to get drinks for the party. And, really, drinks? Who volunteered to get drinks?! Especially considering she couldn't even drink herself, and so could potentially get them thrown out if the bartender chose to card her...although, that may have actually been Kevin's plan...

Well, it wasn't her fault that she could be obtuse about such things! He should have just turned to her and said, "that was my excuse to get you to spend some time with me," or something.

She would have caught on!...eventually.

But, no, he'd had to take his stupid injured pride and storm out of the club. Leaving her in the presence of a bunch of strangers and not even a football game to distract her-it had just ended.

Yeah, awkward.

They had tried to include her, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that they had all been introduced to her as "Kevin's girl" (never-mind that Kevin had forgotten to inform her of that little fact) and so, without Kevin, there wasn't really a place for her in the group.

Not that anyone said anything. But the silence spoke for itself.

"Really" Allison thought, as she scanned her eyes around the club for anyone and anything familiar, "people can just be such, jerks, sometimes."

Just then her eyes caught a hold of someone that she never expected to see in the club. And before she could stop herself she had thrown her arms around her childhood friend loudly calling, "Tommy? What are you doing here?!"

"Allie? That you? Since when are you in Virginia?" Thomas 'Tommy' Greenfield, was one of Allison's oldest friends. He had lived in the same neighborhood as her and Sammy back-in-the-day, and through all the hectic-ness that had been the sisters' lives he'd remained a constant.

"What do you mean, 'since when' I e-mailed you half-a-year ago telling you I got into Grad. School! What, has Samantha been monopolizing all of your memory-space, again?" Despite the fact that Tommy was equally Allison and Samantha's friend he had always been more "in the know" with Samantha's life than her own, on account of him living not five minutes away from her apartment.

"Well, you know things have been a little hectic since Sammy's gotten into the big JH, she's had to look at apartments up there and jobs and a bunch of stuff. So I haven't had much time to check my e-mails lately. You know how it is."

Yes.

Allison did know.

Having had to go through a similar process herself a few months ago...when she'd moved. Something that Tommy would have known if he had just opened his e-mail.

Not that Allison said any of this, it was such a rare occurrence that she got to spend time with her friend, why ruin it by complaining about something that was done and gone?

No, Allison decided it was much better to just try and keep their conversation going.

"So, have you seen the Doctor Who Christmas Special? I know you have to have been watching religiously since the re-boot."

"Psh, seen it? Who do you think you are talking to, Tommy? I've already memorized it."

Especially since there were so few people who she could have sci-fi conversations with.

"Oh, yeah? What was your favorite quote?"

"And with this ring, I thee bio-damp."

And so began the age-old game of one-up-man-ship that was the cornerstone of Allison and Tommy's friendship. Trying to prove that one of them knew whatever show that much better than the other.

They must have been getting really into it, though, because they both jumped when a voice interrupted their debate when a—

"Did you know that the climax of Runaway bride originally took place at Stonehenge? However, Russell T. Davies was unable to come up with a satisfactory rationale for Stonehenge's involvement, and so the idea was abandoned in the early stages of production."

—new player entered the game.

It wasn't until Allison and Tommy were shooting out question after question of Star Trek trivia, it had quickly devolved into a drinking game between Tommy and Reid with Allison acting as the timer, that she even thought to question what Dr. Spencer Reid was even doing in this bar.

"Ask me any, any question." Reid postured, confident in his skills.

"Return to Tomorrow." Tommy shot, watching his opponent for an opening.

"Return to Tomorrow, Season 2, Production Number 51; an alien entity, Sargon, takes over Kirk's body while two others take over Spock and Dr. Mulhall's." A solid return by Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Alien races appearing?" Oh, Tommy throws a curve ball...

"Trick question, a race is never identified, Sargon is a disembodied mind." and Reid nails it.

"...and the Dr. McCoy quote?" A final pitch by Tommy.

"..." Will Reid be able to turn this around?

Of course, as soon as the question crossed her mind.

"Five...Four...Three...Two—

—I will not Peddle flesh. I'm a physician."

He was called away on a 'case'.

"Drink!"

"That guy was unbelievable! What were the chances that a Sci-fi guru would be hiding right under our noses?!" Tommy called, beyond impressed. Allison could only nod, eyes tracking Reid.

"Yeah, what are the chances..."

She had never expected Dr. Reid to be a Sci-Fi savant, and was currently, mentally, re-writing everything she knew about him. And considering extending the hand of friendship to the only person she knew who had ever been able to go toe-to-toe with her and Kevin.

Kevin would be going back home soon, anyway-he was only in town for business-so it would be great if she could get a Doctor Who buddy, if nothing else. The season was starting up that May, and after having lost Rose, Allison knew she was going to be emotionally drained. She needed someone to rant to, and to be ranted at by.

Perhaps, she could stop him at next Monday's lecture? Yes, that was a fine plan. She would catch him on his way out of class or something. Sure he wasn't always there. But he made it when he could. And if not Monday she could get him Wednesday, or next Monday...or something.

But Reid wasn't at the lecture that Monday or that Wednesday. Nor was he there the next week, or the week after that.

No, it would be four weeks before Allison so much as glimpsed at Reid again. And by then she would be far too distracted by how sickly he looked to bring up anything about Doctor Who.

And he would be far too involved with his personal demons to have the patience to deal with her well-intentioned questions.

Spencer was hitting himself for not thinking this out.

Of course, when he had been invited to hang with the team for the Super Bowl it had been implied that they would get together before the game, and stay after. Despite this he hadn't put too much thought into what he would do after the game had ended and everyone scattered to the farthest corners of the club.

Perhaps, he had just expected everyone to stay together? But, no, not five minutes after the Game had ended Morgan and Garcia had rushed to the dance floor-a place Spencer was adamant about avoiding-and J.J. and Emily had started bonding while Hotch and Haylee decided to call up their babysitter and see how Jack was doing.

Now Spencer knew he was more than welcome to join any of the mini-groups, well maybe not Hotch and Haylee but they would return soon enough and would be more than willing to humor him.

But he didn't exactly want to be humored. He could have gone up to J.J. and Emily, but something about interrupting a conversation between two girls just didn't sit right with Spencer—

"Probably my survival instincts." he'd mused.

So he was left looking for a way to entertain himself. He had already killed a few minutes by going to the bathroom. But he was a big boy and had long out grown the need to hide in public restrooms as a response to social anxiety.

Spencer probably would have been wandering for hours if he hadn't heard a familiar voice from behind him. Saying a familiar line. One that he had found himself laughing at a little over a month ago.

"And with this ring, I thee bio-damp."

Was that his T.A.? What was she doing here? Well, probably watching the Game, same as everyone else. Still, Spencer hadn't expected to find her in a club. He didn't know anything about her, of course, but she just never really seemed like the "party-scene" kind of person. Then again, judging by what he had just overheard she wasn't exactly "partying" in the traditional sense.

"That's a great line, so what do you think of the idea of Donna replacing Rose? I mean, I know she said 'no' but if she hadn't do you think she would have made a good companion?"

So Spencer hadn't been hearing things, they were discussing the latest Doctor Who episode. Should he interrupt? It was beyond rude, sure, but it was kind of acceptable in the sci-fi circles to just inject yourself into these kinds of conversations...provided you knew what you were talking about.

"Of course, did you not see how she handled that 'Valeyard' moment with the Doctor? I don't think Rose would've been able to take that side of him."

"Yeah, but if Rose was still around then the Doctor wouldn't have acted that way during the Climax at all."

"Did you know that the climax of Runaway bride originally took place at Stonehenge? However, Russell T. Davies was unable to come up with a satisfactory rationale for Stonehenge's involvement, and so the idea was abandoned in the early stages of production."

Spencer winced at his spew of facts. He hadn't even meant to interrupt, not really. It was clear by how they'd both jumped at his voice that they'd been lost in their own world, a world that Spencer had just barged right into. He really hadn't meant to speak, though. But they had just seemed so interested in the episode, and Spencer remembered finding that particular fact beyond interesting when he'd read it.

Can you imagine the show-down between the Ragnorak and The Doctor at Stonehenge?! It would have been amazing.

Still, it wasn't his place to interrupt, and they would be well with-in their rights to tell him to 'get lost.' So Spencer was more than pleasantly surprised when they angled their bodies to include him in their little semi-circle and began to pick his brain for more Doctor Who trivia.

When they re-located to a small table, and Spencer learned that their science-fiction interests extended to such staples as Star Wars and Star Trek, he was ecstatic. It wasn't all too hard to find other Trekkies, true, but nothing beat just randomly bumping into fans. It was half the reason people went to conventions at all.

And to find that one of the fans was someone he knew? Perhaps not well, but someone he could easily track down to have similar conversations with-if she was amendable to such an arrangement-was...well Spencer didn't know the term, but he was very happy.

He had decided to study Philosophy after that whole debacle with Nathan Harris. Reid hadn't been lying when he'd told Nathan that he learned something new everyday, that Nathan had taught him something new.

Everything had pointed to the fact that Nathan was a killer, or, at the very least would be. He should of had no concept of the immorality of murder. Yet, when it came down to it, he had decided to take his life rather than go on to kill others.

And Spencer had stopped him.

Did that make Spencer responsible for Nathan's life from then on? Morgan didn't think so, but then again didn't Morgan always say that everyone was responsible for their own choices? Well, Nathan had chosen to take his life. Had, in his own way, chosen to not kill. And Spencer had chosen to stop him.

So didn't that make Spencer responsible for that choice? It's like they say "it's better to remove the temptation than to stumble," and short of a lobotomy there was no way for Nathan to "remove" his temptation, aside from the one he tried to take. And Spencer had made that point moot.

Didn't that mean it would be Spencer's fault should he "stumble"?

Psychology told him what he was feeling. Chemistry told him how he was feeling it. And Common Sense told him why. But nothing he had ever studied could so much as make an attempt at answering him.

Hence; philosophy.

He'd gone on to call up the nearest Uni, right then and there, and asked about enrolling (he couldn't very well take classes at Cal-tech, with his schedule.) He'd enrolled into a class for the very next Semester, under the understanding that he didn't have to sit in on lectures to get credit. As long as he completed his assignments with-in an "acceptable" period.

Spencer wasn't yet sure if he would continue on to get his Bachelor's in Philosophy. It would take him awhile doing only one course per semester, even if they were all upper-level courses (he hardly need to re-complete his pre-reqs), but you could never learn too much. And it was a nice break from the Bureau to sit back in the classroom and pretend to be just another student.

And while he didn't have to sit in on lectures, he found he enjoyed it. Philosophy was just much better learned through lecture. Trying to learn from a textbook was...bland. It was just bland.

And now that he found a Trekkie in Allison Wolfe, Spencer was seriously considering showing up a bit more often. Wouldn't it be great if they could discuss the newest Doctor Who episodes, as they came out? Or the sanctity of rebooting Star Trek through movies of all things?

All the stuff that the Team would smile at him bringing up, but laugh at him attaching any form of actual emotion to. Not that they, in anyway, bullied him. But it would be a stretch to say they understood his love of all things science-fiction.

"Yes," Spencer thought as he bid good-bye to Allison, and her friend, jogging over to J.J. and the Team, "after this case I'll track her down so that we can finish our conversation."

He didn't.

A/N: Thank you to all who have read/alerted/favorited/reviewed! You guys are the best. As a 'thank you' I have made this chapter extra-long. Psh. Totally did that on purpose. Well, I am clearly sleep-deprived (my fault). But hopefully you all like this chapter, regardless!

ripon: Haha, yeah it is a very interesting system, and shows up quite a bit considering the age of the main character and the-yet to be disclosed-nature of the crimes being committed. Yeah, the age-gap is not horrible, but some people get bothered by things like that. Never-mind the fact that Reid and Allison would be classified as "aquaintances" right now, and I have plans for them to firmly become "friends" before they enter into a "relationship" so who knows what age they'll actually be when they're 'official.' Thank you very much for your review! It is always really encouraging to know people read these.