It’s something he’s been looking forward to for weeks: an extended weekend – case pending, of course. Four whole days to himself – four days of mother nature and what he can carry on his back. Camping in the fall carries its risks, of course, the most prominent being the quickly declining and somewhat unpredictable temperatures, but he’s an experienced woodsman and has complete faith in his own abilities… even if others don’t.
Reid, for instance.
The barrage of statistics start the moment he hears of Derek’s plan. Derek is, quite understandably, annoyed. He can toss in as many percentages and probabilities as he’d like – the statistics are still just a clever way of calling him an idiot in his opinion.
He’s even more annoyed when he hears that Spencer has no personal experience to support his own reservations and opinions, and that is something Derek fully intends on changing.
Eyebrows raise and he reels around, turning back to give him a somewhat dumb-founded look. “You’ve never been camping?” he repeats, eyebrows inching further up. The revelation is far less surprising than he makes it seem. He scoffs, forehead smoothing, and gives a slight shake of his head. “Nuh-uh. That ain’t gonna fly, pretty boy.” There’s a small hand gesture and everything, a flick of his wrist that translates into: no dice. “This weekend – you and me. Meet me at mine, bright and early – say, 0700 hours? –“ a pause and, lips twitching into a faint smirk, he eyes Spencer up and down. “Dress warm,” he advises, flicking his eyebrows up as his eyes meet his again. He takes a step back and turns, continuing his way before Spencer can argue.
*
He encourages Spencer to pack his own supplies – despite having a second rucksack packed and ready to go in the cab of his truck, hidden behind the second seat. He’s interested to see what the other man considers a necessity.
He, himself, is dressed in heavy jeans, wool socks, hiking boots, two long sleeved shirts and a flannel jacket with a military style puffer vest overtop, its pockets giving him easy access to a few necessities like his pocket knife, bait kit, water purifying tablets and flare. He tugs a hat over his ears and meets Spencer outside of his place, laughter quickly lining his features. It seems Spencer’s taken his advice to dress warm to its literal, maximum meaning – he bobs back and forth a bit, features twisting under exaggerated confusion: “Reid – man, is that you? Did someone try suffocating you?”
He’s somewhat surprised he can even walk under the weight of all of that – at first glance it appears he’s wearing more than an amateur skier would on the highest peaks.
His laughter fades a bit, although his amusement lingers, coloring the hue of each iris, and he raises both eyebrows.
“So, where’s your stuff?”
He quickly regrets asking that: Spencer’s brought four bags. Derek lifts the biggest up with the intention of moving it into the cab of his truck; instead he blanches, a scoff catching in his throat as he quickly sets it down on the ground. “Is this full of books?” he asks incredulously.
