Progeny

Part 16

Spencer entered his quiet house. Sara was picking Hope up from school so he had time alone with his thoughts for at least a half hour. That was the last thing he wanted. J.J. was leaving the BAU. Okay, rationally he knew that he would see her. In fact, he'd see her this weekend when everyone came over to check out the house and Sara was cooking up a huge feast in her kitchen. Thinking about the way Sara seemed to dance around her massive kitchen when she cooked made him smile. It even lessened the pain of not seeing his best friend every day.

He headed up the stairs and to his bedroom. Upon entering he took it all in. Different shades of blue flowed throughout the room. He loosened his tie and removed it. When he lived his solitary life, he would have simply hung his tie on the doorknob of his closet. Instead, he opened the door to his very own walk-in closet/dressing room. He shook his head. It was bigger than his kitchen in his old apartment. He pulled out his tie rack and hung it with the rest of his ties. He laughed. Spencer didn't own a lot of clothes, or shoes for that matter. The only drawer that was filled was his sock drawer and if Hope continued to buy him crazy socks, he'd soon need to start another drawer. She'd give him one and keep the other. She'd started mismatching her socks too.

He removed his shirt and threw it in his hamper leaving him in a white cotton t-shirt. He kicked off his shoes and stored them neatly with his other four pairs. Then he exited his closet and lay on his bed. His head was aching. There'd been too much change lately. Most of it was fantastic, finding out about Hope, marrying Sara, reconnecting with his dad, the house, but the L.A. case unnerved him more than it should have, and then JJ… He closed his eyes.

That's where Sara found him when she returned home from picking Hope up from school. As she turned quietly to leave the room, he stopped her.

"I'm not asleep. I just have a bit of headache."

She took off her shoes and climbed up on the bed. "Put your head in my lap."

He scooted over and did as she asked. She began to massage this head. He groaned. "That feels good."

"Shh. No talking. Relax. Let me take your pain away."

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When she finished, he was asleep. She needed to go down stairs and start dinner, but staring down at her sleeping husband reminded her of the boy she'd known him to be. Her Spencer.

He rolled off of her lap and onto his pillow. As carefully as she could, she scooted off of the bed without waking him and headed downstairs. She was going to make him something special. Something that both he and Hope would eat.

Down in the kitchen, Sara set to work. The one thing about her husband and daughter was that they both loved Mexican food. Earlier that day, Sara had gone to the store without a list and just bought everything that she'd been hungry for and had missed since leaving Texas. She quickly began chopping, seasoning, sautéing, frying, baking, grilling, she was in her own world.

Hope entered the kitchen with a smile on her face. "Tex-Mex! What's the occasion?"

Sara hugged her daughter. "I just thought that since you and your father have been so busy with work and school, you'd like one of your favorite meals."

"Need any help?" Hope asked just as Sara picked up her favorite chopping knife. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "What do you want?"

Hope giggled. "What makes you think I want anything? Can't a daughter offer to aid her mother in the kitchen whilst making dinner?"

Sara returned to the avocados she was slicing. "Sure a daughter can offer, but you rarely do unless you want something. What is it, and how much will it cost?"

The pre-teen gasped as she dramatically clutched her chest. "I would never … okay, I would." She hopped up on a stool that was next to the island where her mother was currently working. "So here's the deal. I talked to my advisor today and she totally blew me off."

Sara put the knife down. "What do you mean blew you off?"

Hope shrugged. "I think I intimidate her."

"Maybe you should talk to your dad about this later." Sara went back to slicing the avocados, taking the pits out, and scraping the insides into a bowl.

"Where is he? Can't I just talk to him now?"

"No, you can't. He's asleep."

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After dinner, Spencer and Hope were in the kitchen doing the clean up. There was so much food left over, the two would be taking leftovers with them to work and school for a week.

"What's on your mind?" Spencer asked.

Hope rolled her eyes. "Sometimes your being a profiler sucks."

He laughed. "It doesn't take a profiler to realize that my twelve year old daughter has an ulterior motive. You volunteered us for clean-up duty."

She sighed. "Were you ever bored during your first year of college?"

"Extremely. Your grandfather helped me test out of most of my classes."

She climbed onto a stool. "I talked to my advisor today to see if that was possible and she said that that wasn't an option for me."

Spencer sat on the stool next to her. "Not an option for you?"

"She said she wouldn't sign off on it because of my age and immaturity.

He squinted at her as he rubbed his temples. "Is there a reason she's of the opinion that you are immature?"

"I have no idea. I go to class, participate, turn in assignments before they're due. How is that being immature? As for my age, I realize I'm only twelve, but why should I be punished because of that?"

"You shouldn't. Would you mind if I spoke with her?"

Hope smiled and hugged her father. "You're the best daddy in the world."

The pain in Spencer's head suddenly dissipated.

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Pamela Scott awaited her 10 o'clock appointment. The father of the little genius girl was coming in to discuss his daughter's situation. If she had it her way, the little brat wouldn't be in her school. Unfortunately, the school saw the PR opportunity to having a 12 year old alleged genius on campus. Genius. A monkey could be trained too.

A knock came from her door. "Dr. Scott?"

She looked up from her desk to see an extremely handsome man with a messenger bag strap across his chest. Must be a grad student.

"May I help you?"

He entered the office. "Yes, my name is Spencer Reid. I'm Hope Reid's father."

Damn! "Of course. Please, have a seat." She waited for Spencer to set his bag down and take a seat. "Now, Mr. Reid, normally I do not speak to the parents of my advisees, but since your daughter is a minor…"

"What I want to know is why you will not allow her to test out of classes that are boring her?"

"Mr. Reid, I understand that having a daughter of her intelligence can be quite impressive, but what you don't understand is that at her age, rushing her education would only be detrimental to her development."

Spencer processed what she was saying quickly. "What are you saying?"

"Your child, and she is a child, should be in middle school not college. Just because she's smart, doesn't mean that she'll accomplish what you and your wife have planned for her. I've never seen a situation like this turn out well, Mr. Reid."

"It's Dr. Reid. F.B.I. Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid to be precise. Let me explain my background to you, Dr. Scott. I too graduated from high school at the age of 12. I attended Cal Tech where by the age of 16 I received my first doctorate."

Pamela Scott's voice caught. "Your first?"

"I have three. At the age of 21 I joined the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit of which I have been a member for the last eight years. So I do understand Hope. I'm a lot more qualified to understand her. More so than you. For you to deny her what is best for her because you obviously have issues with her intelligence, is unethical, and if you do not allow her to test out of classes that obviously are not challenge her then I'll go to the Dean or President Kleinman if need be." He stood, grabbed his bag and left.

Pamela Scott took a calming breath, opened Hope's file in her computer, and approved her request for test out of her classes.

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