the primary lesson taught within the behavior analysis unit was to remain unattached to cases, for the baggage corresponding with such emotional holding could be devastating to oneâs sane mentality. and yet, here she was, disobeying direct orders from her superiors. kennedy had the reputation of following rules to the finest tee. but this concerned so much more than just what is detected above the surface.
she never spoke of her past horrors. she never felt the stark urge to do so. hypocritical, quite frankly, for she preached the belief that expressing our demons in a form of communication assisted the mind to heal. but she never uttered any form of communication in regards to the nightmares that haunted her ever-going thoughts. she didnât deem it necessary in her state.
her slender fingers combed through her brunette locks, tugging down upon the roots in a harsh manner. her eyes watered, the origin of such unknown; its possibilities consisted of the tension she produced through the grasp on her hairline ⊠or perhaps it was the simple concept that she lacked sleep ⊠or perhaps it was due to the caseâs resemblance to the death of her family. not many were aware of her past, which was something she was immensely grateful for. she loathed when individuals were told of the events, immediately expressing their sympathies. sheâd grown tired of it. sheâd grown over it. Â
kennedy noted the new presence within her vicinity, though she chose against to acknowledge the doctor. green eyes were fixated upon the window. nowhere else. until spencer spoke. jones adjusted her gaze momentarily, its level raising, though never to the degree where the two had the opportunity to look into each otherâs eyes. âhmm,â she hummed. her shoulders rose in a meek shrug. she didnât necessarily wish to venture further into the possibility of persistent prying for information. with full intention in rejecting his invitation, kennedy peered upwards, her eyes locking with his hazel irises. the motivation to her decline disappeared. âi guess.â her tone was detached, but there was a minuscule hint of gratitude hidden within. // @hisgeniusisms
âthanks.â he said, giving her a smile and settling back into the seat, just as the seatbelt sign flicked on. the landing was smooth, and spencer gathered his stuff, stepping down off the plane, after kennedy, but before hotch, and paused once they reached the bottom. âcome on,â he held up his keys -- pretty basic key ring with essentials -- house, car, two other house keys, and a few other random ones. âiâm driving.â a warm smile, gentle and bright. he doesnât give her much choice, and sets off, messenger bag on his shoulder and go-bag in hand, carefully maneuvering themselves to the cars.Â
spencerâs was fairly easy to spot: older, light blue and due to the fact he seldom had people ride in the car with him, the backseat was a disaster of books, papers, and verious clothing pieces (mostly scarves & jackets). the front passenger seat was clean, though. and he unlocked the door, feeling strange. going out to get milkshakes after a case was something he and gideon used to do, mostly when spencer was brooding and withdrawn and refused the bait to go get drinks with the team.
spencer preferred milkshakes to alcohol, and he wasnât sure if kennedy did, but it was better for tomorrow id they not consume alcohol (at least for him). settling in the car and waiting for her to get in, he started the car and drove the two of them towards the diner. he made soft pointless sort of conversation -- fun facts and statistics and rambling about this, that and the other.
he parked outside the diner, which had a warm glow, despite the late night, it was fairly empty, a few others who worked in the area having stopped in, âhey.â he looks at her, voice more serious. âwe donât have to talk about anything involving the case -- we can talk about anything invovling the case. but--â a firm look, âi need you to talk and focus, okay. get out of your head. because i know that look. i get that look when i am in my head, alright?â a gentle smile, warming his face.Â
âtrust me, it seems trivial, but,â a shrug, âgetting out of your head makes it a little brighter.â
