Penelope sighed, packing the last box from her dorm room into the trunk of her car. Dropping out of college wasn't the wisest decision she could be making involving her future, but feeling responsible for her parents' deaths, she needed to get away. She needed to keep to herself and continue her coding, because that would eventually get her somewhere. She closed the trunk on her car, affectionately named Esther, and took her keys out of her pocket, getting in and starting it. She was ready to move on and start a life of her own, even if it meant not having a college degree behind her. She drove around the campus and took in the sights one last time. There were several students studying outside on the sunny day, and she smiled to herself, remembering that she had done the same just a few weeks earlier.
She pulled up to a stop sign and waited for another car to go when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. There was a young boy, probably about sixteen years old, riding his bicycle around campus with a backpack strapped to his back. She had seen him around before, and assumed he took some sort of shortcut through Caltech to get home. She went to drive and he pressed on his brakes to stop at the sign beside her, pressing too hard and flipping over the handlebars, hitting the ground hard.
She parked her car. "Oh my God." She took her keys out and got out of the car, running over to him. "Are you okay?"
The teenager nodded slightly, wincing. "I'm fine."
She squatted beside him. "I should've checked my mirrors, sweetie, I'm sorry." She looked at him and saw he'd scraped up his arm and taken a hit to the head. "Can I give you a ride home, have your mom look at that?"
He shook his head. "No, she doesn't-" he paused, shaking his head, "it's fine, it'll go away."
"At least let me take you to a doctor to get that checked out," she said, motioning toward his forehead.
He raised an eyebrow, reaching a hand up and pressing it to his head. He pulled it back and saw blood. "I'm fine, a few band-aids and it'll close up."
She sighed, taking his chin in her hand and looking at it closely. "This is not a band-aid fixer-upper. It's my fault for not checking my mirrors, let me take you to the hospital, I'll cover the expenses."
"No, really, it's fine. Thank you, though." He pushed himself up, dusting off his khaki pants and sighing. "I need to do laundry when I get home, hopefully after homework."
She reached over, picking up his bag and stuffing his books back in.
Knot Theory and Combinatorics? Definitely don't remember taking that in high school.
She handed the bag to him and he put it over his shoulder, wincing slightly and limping back to his bike.
She gasped, walking over to him. "Nope, not happening."
He turned to face her. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'll put your bike in my backseat and I'm taking you to a doctor."
He opened his mouth to protest, but sighed. "Thank you, Miss," he said quietly, walking over to her car and throwing his bag in the front seat, wincing slightly and getting in himself.
She smirked. "Miss? What am I, a teacher's assistant?" She picked up his bike, putting it in the backseat of her convertible. She then grabbed a t-shirt from the floor, handing it to him. "Put that on your head to stop the bleeding." She got in, starting the car back up. "Any preferences?"
He sighed, shaking his head and wincing slightly as he pressed the shirt against his cut. "Whatever's covered by the school's health insurance."
She raised an eyebrow as she started driving. "The school's? Where do you go?"
"…Here?"
She laughed. "No, really, you can't be older than 16."
"I'm 14 actually." He took a deep breath as he pressed the shirt into his cut again. "I'm a sophomore."
"…That's impressive."
He shrugged slightly and she noticed he seemed uncomfortable with the small talk. She focused on the road again, driving to the hospital.
Once she stopped, he grabbed his bag. "Thank you, Miss," he said quickly, opening the door.
She shook her head. "I cause you to flip over your handlebars and you think I'm going to just dump you in front of the hospital? Nice try." She turned the car off, grabbing her purse and getting out. "Do you need some help walking?" she asked, pulling up the top of her car.
He took a few cautious steps, biting his lip as he limped, and nodded slightly. "Please?"
She walked over. "Swing your arm around my neck."
He did so and she wrapped an arm around his waist, helping him walk inside.
Making it to the desk, she looked at the nurse. "Excuse me?"
"Yes?"
"Hi… he just took a pretty bad tumble off his bike and needs to see a doctor. He has a head injury, he's limping, and he landed on his arm, so probably needs that to get checked out."
She grabbed a clipboard, setting it on the counter. "I just need these filled out before I can admit him."
Penelope picked up the clipboard, looking at the forms. "No problem." She led Spencer over to a chair and sat beside him. "Are you a lefty or a righty?" she asked, pointing to his scratched up right arm.
He sighed. "Right-handed."
She reached in her purse, taking out a gel pen. "Then it looks like we're about to play a fantastic game of twenty questions-" she stopped short, waiting for his name.
"Spencer."
She smiled. "Very nice to meet you, Spencer. I'm Penelope, and I'll be acting as mother bear until you get checked out."
He smiled awkwardly, nodding and looking down at his lap.
"Do you need me to call anyone first?"
He shook his head. "My mom's in Vegas and my dad's- well, he's a jackass."
"…Do you have anyone out here?"
"It's just me in my dorm room. It's fine, I've always been independent."
She frowned slightly but shook it off, uncapping her pen.
"Name?"
He sighed, pressing the cloth against his forehead. "Spencer Reid. R-e-i-d."
She wrote it down and checked off male. "Date of birth, Spencer Reid?"
"October 9th, 1981."
"Address?"
"The school's address, my room's in Avery House… room 16."
She wrote it down, humming to herself. He gave her the rest of the information and leaned back in the chair as she brought the forms up to the desk.
"So what brings you out to CalTech, Vegas?"
He shrugged. "Full boat scholarship to study Mathematics. I was going to study Literature, but I'd already read all of the course material and wanted to be challenged."
She laughed. "You've read the course material? You're 14, how much reading could you have done?"
"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and can read 20,000 words per minute. After I finish my homework, I get a few books from the library and read."
"Whoa, hold up. Twenty thousand?"
He nodded slightly. "I also have an eidetic memory, so I remember everything I've ever read. That's why I couldn't go into Literature. I'd be too bored and end up correcting the teacher. Last time I did that, I got kicked out of a class – comparative literature."
She gasped. "That was you?"
He blushed, sinking into his seat and nodding. "The professor kicked me out when I argued the true theme behind Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. I fought my point, he got hot headed, and he said I wasn't welcome in his classroom again."
She smirked, shaking her head. "You, Spencer Reid, are full of all sorts of surprises."
After an hour, several patients had been seen, but Spencer was still sitting in the waiting room. Penelope patted his knee. "Excuse me for a sec," she said, getting up and walking to the desk
Spencer thought to himself.
Sec? Surely she's not talking about the sweetness of wine, or a social evolutionary computation. She's definitely not referring to a secant. What's a sec?
She hit her hand on the desk. "I'd like to think a 14 year old boy who flipped over the handlebars of his bike is a little bit more important than the guy who came in with a foot injury. I don't care what you have to do, but he'd best be the next patient called back, or we're going to have a serious problem."
Spencer raised an eyebrow, impressed and slightly frightened. "…Did you just threaten the hospital staff?"
"They'll get over it." She took the seat next to him again and impatiently watched the clock.
"Spencer Reid?" one of the nurses called.
"There we go!" Penelope cheered, getting up and helping Spencer up. He once again wrapped his arm around her neck and limped to the nurse, following her to a room. He closed the curtain, changing into one of the gowns, and made himself comfortable on the bed. Meanwhile, Penelope sat in the chair, purse in her lap, waiting.
"What do we have?" his doctor asked, walking in.
"14 year old, flipped over the handlebars of his bike. Injury to his head, possible injuries to his right arm and leg," the nurse said, handing him the chart.
"How did this happen?"
He shrugged slightly. "I was riding my bike to class, I got spooked, put my brakes on too hard and went over the handlebars. My helmet wasn't securely fastened and went somewhere, resulting in the head injury. I ended up landing on my arm and slamming my knee down on the ground."
With a quick look at his arm and leg, the doctor sighed. "I'm going to take you up for x-rays after I stitch up that head."
"It's fine, just put a band-aid on it."
After pulling on gloves, his doctor checked the injury and shook his head. "That's going to require at least five stitches."
He groaned. "I have a 3:00 class, how long is this going to take?"
"I'll write you a doctor's note." He then turned to Penelope. "Are you his guardian?"
Spencer tried speaking up, but before he could, she answered. "Absolutely."
"I'm going to clean him up, stitch up his head injury, then get him some x-rays. Do you want to wait here or in the waiting room?"
"I'll be fine in here."
The nurse walked in with the materials to stitch his head. She set them down and grabbed a cloth, cleaning off his head and applying disinfectant. He winced slightly and bit down on his lip as the doctor started stitching the wound.
"Do you need anything, sweetie?" Penelope asked.
He resisted the urge to shake his head. "No thank you," he mumbled as the doctor put a bandage over the newly applied stitches. The nurse then moved on to clean out his arm and leg. He winced, biting down on his lip.
"Okay, Spencer, let's get you a few x-rays, be sure they aren't broken."
He nodded, pushing himself off the bed. Before he could fall, Penelope rushed over, wrapping her arm around his waist. "I've got you, Boy Wonder."
Boy Wonder? Sweetie? He thought to himself, as she led him to the x-ray room.
His doctor walked into his room a while later. "Luckily nothing's broken, but you're going to be sore for a few days. You do have a Grade II sprain on your right wrist-"
"Severe ligament damage, and some loss of function. I need to rest it for 48 hours, ice my wrist, keep it immobilized with a bandage or splint, and keep it elevated when possible?"
Penelope smirked as the doctor looked bewildered. "Correct. And you should also take the same care with your knee. Can you walk, or should I give you crutches?"
He shook his head. "I can walk fine, thank you. My dorm isn't far from the cafeteria or my classrooms. If need be, I can have police services drive me. Crutches would do me more harm than good."
After having his wrist and knee wrapped, the doctor wrote out his prescriptions and handed them to Penelope. "Be sure he gets some rest."
"I still need that doctor's note. I have to miss two days of classes because of this," Spencer started, getting off the bed and picking up his backpack. He took the notes and put them in his pocket, turning to her. "Can I get a ride to the pharmacy?"
"Consider it done."
She drove to pick up his prescriptions and parked in front of his dorm. She grabbed the bike out of her backseat and wheeled it inside after him. He sighed, limping over to the elevator and pressing the button.
"What floor?"
"Fourth."
"Best hope this elevator doesn't go down on you."
He smiled slightly, walking inside and pressing the button for his floor, Penelope behind him.
After arriving at his dorm, she leaned the bike against the wall and put his backpack down.
"You should probably take your painkillers and get some sleep."
He nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Mis- Penelope. I appreciate your help."
She reached over, ruffling his hair. "No problem, Boy Wonder." She reached in her purse, taking out a pad of paper and pen. She wrote down her phone number, handing it to him. "Read it, memorize it, if you need anything, 187, just give me a phone call."
He took the paper from her, reading the number. He then set it down beside his phone. "I'll try not to need you. Thank you for everything you did today."
She gave him a quick salute and picked up her purse, walking out.
Eight Years Later
Spencer had been at the BAU for several months before he was working on his first serious case with his team. It was the Blue Ridge Strangler, who to their knowledge had murdered three women. He scanned the list of Forest Service employees, Hotch and Morgan standing over him as he looked.
He sighed. "1,718 employees," he started, sitting up straight in his chair.
Hotch leaned forward. "He won't be a new employee. He's cautious, he's organized. He leaves behind no trace evidence."
"Hey, what's the new tech girl's name?" Derek asked.
Spencer raised an eyebrow. He'd heard Gideon talking about her earlier in the day after she'd found this list. "Uh, Gomez, I think?"
Derek turned around to face her. "Excuse me, Gomez?"
When there was no answer, Spencer shrugged it off, looking at the list.
"Hey, Baby Girl."
"…Baby Girl?"
Something about her voice was familiar to Spencer. He'd heard it before, but just couldn't place it.
"Forgive me," Morgan started, I just didn't know the real-"
She stopped him. "I've been called worse."
Derek walked out with her as Spencer kept focused on the case.
When Derek and Hotch left to accompany the SWAT team to catch Brian Matloff, Spencer got up from his desk, walking to the technical analyst's office. He hesitated initially before knocking on the door carefully.
"Just a sec!" she called out, setting a few figurines on her desk. She then turned around, walking over to her door and opening it. "How can I help yo-" she started, before pausing.
Something clicked in Spencer's head. "…Penelope, right?"
She looked him up and down, eyebrow raised. "Why do you look familiar?"
"…You probably don't recognize me, not bleeding on the ground at CalTech."
"Bleeding on the ground at-" she paused again, gasping and hitting his arm. "Spencer Reid! Damn it's a small world! You've grown."
He smiled nervously. "Yeah, that happens when you pass the age of 14."
"How's the head and the wrist? Oh, and the knee?"
He pushed his hair up at his hairline, pointing to a small scar. "All healed up, haven't had a problem since."
She smirked, mussing up his hair. "So, what, degree in Math didn't work for you, so you came to the FBI?"
He shook his head. "I actually have Ph.D's in Mathematics, Engineering, and Chemistry, as well as BA's in Psychology and Sociology."
She raised her eyebrows. "…Wow. How about when Hotch and Morgan get back, we go out to dinner and catch up, my treat?"
"I actually think I owe you one, considering you paid my hospital bill eight years ago."
She smiled. "Meet me here when they get back."
After they came back to the BAU, Spencer walked to her office, knocking. She quickly pulled on her jacket and walked out, taking his hand and walking over to the elevator. Once they arrived at the restaurant, they put their orders in.
"So," Spencer started, sipping his water, "what have you been up to the last eight years?"
She exhaled. "Well, dropping out of college, being put on a hacker short list by the FBI because apparently I was dangerous, they caught me, I applied to the BAU on homemade pink stationery, and now I'm here."
He smiled. "Pink stationery? I'm sure Hotch loved reading that application."
She shrugged. "It was scented too. Lilacs."
He laughed softly. "It's nice to know you haven't changed a bit."
"What about you, Boy Wonder? Five degrees?"
He shrugged. "Becoming better and more successful was the best possible revenge I could get against my jackass of a father, so after our little incident, I decided to pick up Engineering classes, then went to MIT for my Engineering degree."
"Doesn't surprise me."
While they were eating, she glanced over at him. "So, all those degrees, how the hell did you end up in the FBI?"
He set down his fork, chewing. "Well, I wanted to do something that mattered and something that would help people. My father's a lawyer, so I'd be damned if I was following in his footsteps. Something about working at the BAU and putting my extensive knowledge of everything I ever read to good use seemed like the right thing to do."
"Well, Spencer Reid, it's going to be an honor to work with you."
"Same."
"Where are you going?" she asked as they stood up after dinner, pulling on their jackets.
"Subway."
She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"…I'm walking to the subway?"
She shook her head. "Nuh uh, not happening. Let's go, we're hopping in Esther and I'm giving you a ride home for old time's sake."
"Except for the fact I'm not bleeding on your car this time – those stains came out, right?"
"Most definitely."
She walked him out to the car and he got in, buckling himself in.
"So, 187," she said as she parked the car. "You're going to have to deal with me every single day."
"…I don't mind?"
She smirked. "And you have to understand that I have a mindset. Once I'm a mother bear, I stay a mother bear. It's going to be my natural instinct to take care of you and worry about you all the time."
"Okay?"
"And I'm going to keep nicknaming you, and all but smother you. You may not be that scrawny little thing flipping over your handlebars, but you're still that kid in my mind, so you just have to deal with that."
He shrugged it off. "Okay."
"And I'm going to take care of you if you get hurt again."
He smiled. "I'd expect nothing less. Good night, Mis-" he paused, shaking his head, "wow, sorry, flashback. Good night, Penelope."
She shook her head, laughing softly. "Let's stick with Garcia."
Author's Note: The inspiration from this fic came from a headcanon my best friend had. She thought that something happened between Reid and Garcia while she was still at CalTech, and this is the result of my brainstorming the idea. Hope you enjoyed it!