and i know that it’s delicate
the wedding
(word count: 4,853)
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“Marry the boy,” Aunt March says before Laurie has the chance to say anything. Amy jerks a bit, like she’s been struck. “Marry him and go home to your family and hold them tight, my girl. I know it’s what you want. What you’ve wanted for months, now. To go home. Well, here’s your chance. I give you both my blessing.”
“Aunt March,” Amy says, shaking her head. She squeezes her eyes shut for a brief moment. Laurie stands as if to move to her but he stops with his hand barely outstretched towards her. Aunt March sees the aborted movement but by the time Amy opens her eyes again, Laurie’s hands are tucked into his pants pockets. “That is a wonderful idea.”
Summary: Spencer finds out the truth and reveals a little bit of his own past himself. Plans are made, but both Y/N and Spencer know the future is never what it seems.
Content Warning: Cursing, loss, feelings of loneliness, mention of infidelity
Word Count: 3.1 K (It's short for a chapter :( )
Author's Note: I hit a wall with this, but still want to continue writing. It really helps me feel enthusiastic about my writing when I get comments and positive feedback! Thank you for reading, I hope to update this more frequently, if people are still keeping up.
PART III
It's Delicate
To Spencer, it seems like he always feels mad these days. Mad at himself, mad at his co-workers, mad at the random people on the street who walk way too slow. Mad at Y/N, even though he can really justify being mad at her. No matter how hard he tries, his anger at that little shiny ring on her manicured finger just circles back to himself. Spencer knows that he doesn’t have a justifiable reason to be mad at Y/N, so his anger just festers inside of himself, threatening to burst sooner or later. She doesn’t owe him anything, she’s practically a stranger. All he knows about her is that she likes books, like cats, and seemed to like him.
And she probably likes, no loves, the person she’s married to.
He supposes that his anger can do some good, when it’s channelled at grading papers or conjuring up geographic profiles. Sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV, Spencer’s eyes focus ahead on the dirt road. He really hates cases that bring them to the middle of nowhere, it’s hard enough to catch the unsub and the added level of untrusting communities makes it that more difficult. Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him and he has a half a mind to tell him to keep his eyes on the road. Luke might not say much with his words, but Spencer knows that he’s trying to communicate through purposeful glances and calculated throat-clearings.
“You never told me how your date-not-a-date went?” Luke says. Spencer rolls his eyes, thinking that Luke really cut to the chase on this one.
“It was fine, I don’t really want to think about it,” Spencer answers shortly. He doesn’t look at Luke when he talks, which tells Luke all he needs to know.
“Was she pretty?” Luke asks, fishing for the tiniest bit of information from Spencer.
Of course she’s pretty, Spencer thought. But her being pretty is the least interesting thing about her, even though Spencer thinks she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever met.
“I didn’t really notice,” Spencer says, still trying to keep the conversation short.
“So you haven't slept with her yet?”
Spencer whips his head around to face Luke, slightly appalled that he’s insinuating that he’d sleep with a woman the first time he met her. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that, it’s just not Spencer’s thing. He suddenly begins to question every piece of advice that he’s taken from Luke.
“God, Luke. I didn’t sleep with her and I don’t think she’s planning on it. Besides, this is a book club,” Spencer says. He’s repeated that in his head so many times it’s become a mantra.
“So if you didn’t sleep with her and you think she’s pretty, what’s got you all jumpy,” Luke says, glancing over at Spencer as they drive, “I know you Spencer, and you’ve been jumpy since you had this date. You’re not texting her back like you did the days leading up to it,”
Spencer takes a deep breathing, like he’s internally debating whether or not he should tell Luke. It’s not like it’s a secret, it’s a wedding ring. The reason Y/N wears it on her finger is to tell the world she’s in love with someone and plans on spending her entire life loving them. Spencer hates that he’s jealous, but he hates that he feels guilty more.
“I promise I won’t tell Penelope, if that helps,” Luke offers, the concern in his voice is genuine, leading Spencer to think he could trust him.
“She’s married,” Spencer says, “Y/N is married,”
“Wow. Okay, you’re telling me the truth, right? You didn’t sleep with a married woman?” Luke asks, staring at Spencer.
“I didn’t sleep with her, Luke, I wasn’t planning on it and I’m not even thinking about that,” Spencer says, through gritted teeth.
“So if you don’t plan on sleeping with her, then what’s it matter to you if she’s married,” Luke asks, he continues driving with his eyes glued to the road, but his mind with Spencer and his tormenting thoughts.
“I thought she liked me, Luke. I thought maybe I can see myself down the road being happy with her, but that damn ring,” Spencer tells him, his voice wavers and his face grows hot from embarrassment. He let himself get swept up in the moment of a pretty woman listening to him talk about books for what would have been hours only to find out that she’s probably bored and looking for someone to mess with.
“Do you think she’s trying to be unfaithful?” Luke asks, genuine worry in his question.
Spencer sighs, thinking it over. He wants to say no. He wants to believe in Y/N, despite him hardly knowing her. Spencer wants another chance and he was so quick to think that it could be with the witty woman who likes books as much as he does.
“I don’t see her doing that. And besides, why would she wear her wedding ring if she was planning on being unfaithful,” Spencer concludes. He runs his hands through his hair, wanting to believe the words that he says more than he knows.
Luke pulls into the parking spot and puts the SUV into park before turning to Spencer. He looks at him solemnly, like a brother would look at his brother, who is going through a moment of strife.
“Look man, I know that you and Morgan were close and all. And I know that JJ is like a sister to you, but I’m here to talk. I know that you’ve got some history when it comes to love, more than most, but don’t count yourself out, Reid. Don’t give up on finding happiness in someone else,”
Spencer nods and smiles at Luke, but in his heart he knows that it’s hard for him to believe those words. He’s a different man than he was all those years ago, but his heart is still the same heart that broke when Maeve died before him. His eyes are still the same eyes that watched her bleed out when all he could do was stare. His hands are still the same hands that never got to caress her face or hold her hands in his. But despite all that, he’s changed.
Luke hops out of the car and heads toward the building where him and Spencer have been sent too. Spencer slips his phone from out of his pocket, checking if JJ or Tara have any updates. His thumb seems to move of its own accord when he reads Y/N’s name in the black lettering.
Y/N: Hope you’re being safe out there superman! I finished the first chapter of the book. How haven’t I read this one yet!! I have to say I do prefer A Secret History...when do you think you’ll be back. I can’t wait to talk to you again
Y/N: Really though Spencer please be safe
Spencer, despite his deep rooted inclinations, responds.
Spencer: Y/N- I’m safe, thank you for asking. I’ll probably be home in two days, if we wrap the case up by tomorrow. It looks like that’s a good estimate. I’m glad you’re enjoying the book 😊- Spencer
Spencer hits send, contemplating if the 😊was friendly, rather than flirty. He doesn’t expect to see the little gray bubble pop up, but finds himself waiting to read Y/N’s message nonetheless.
Y/N: AMAZING!! Can’t wait
Spencer: Me too- Spencer
***
As it turns out, Y/N is right about Never Let Me Go is a perfect book. From start to finish Spencer's mind can’t stop reading the book. He’s astonished that he’s never read it before, but happy to have been able to read the book. On the Metro, Spencer scribbles a message for Y/N into the back cover of the book. He doesn’t want her to read it with him there, but maybe when she goes back home she’ll read it and think of Spencer.
Spencer waits in the same area that he sat with Y/N last week. She texted him that she was walking up . When Spencer receives the text he noticed that his palms seemed to be a little more clammy than he’s used to and that his collar was hot underneath his tweed jacket. He’s not blind to these signs. On the contrary, he knows he’s nervous to see Y/N again, especially when it’s going to be quite difficult to ignore the ring on her finger.
Before Spencer’s imagination is able to wander too far, Y/N comes down from the staircase. She holds Spencer’s book and another one of her’s, that Spencer presumes, will be his for the next week or so.
“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer calls, standing up from the sofa to greet Y/N, “I hope that you’ll like the book I picked out for this week, it’s a little out there, but it’s a fantastic read. Especially considering you like Never Let Me Go, it’s very similar, but different in it’s own right,”
Y/N smiles widely, moving in to hug Spencer. Not prepared for the close greeting, Spencer accepts it nonetheless. Y/N tucks into Spencer’s side and he can feel her hair against his cheek. He doesn’t want to act weird about the hug or make it seem like something it’s not, but Spencer is reminded that the last time he was hugged was after he got out of prison.
“I’m sure I’ll like it, Spencer. You have excellent taste. The Goldfinch was amazing, Donna Tartt is just a wizard with words,” Y/N says, releasing Spencer from her hug and sitting down on the sofa.
She takes out Spencer’s copy of The Goldfinch and hands it to him. He flips through the pages and pages of words, Y/N’s handwriting litters in the margins, mixing in with Spencer’s. Her thoughts and ideas are forever trapped between the pages, forever interlocked with Spencer’s. If Spencer didn’t think she was married, he would venture to think that passing books back and forth like this is rather intimate.
“I think your confidence in me is too strong,” Spencer says, deflecting the compliment that he feels has a double meaning.
“So tell me, what were your first thoughts of the book? It really makes you think about life and worth, right?” Y/N asks, looking very eager to discuss the book with Spencer, who tries to not let himself get too wrapped up in the way she looks up at him.
“I agree, 100%. While it’s classified as Science Fiction, I do think it’s more of a Literary Fiction. It’s an instant classic. Kathy was a very thought out hero, might I add, not the typical hero, but someone that’s truly a product of their environment,”
“Oh yes!” Y/N says, sitting on her knees excitedly, “I’m sure you’ve read The Handmaid’s Tale, but I was reminded of that a lot. This society where everything is so bleak and dreary, but incredibly dangerous and potent. The main character is a victim of this society, of the oppression that she faces and Ishiguro just does an excellent job of articulating this,”
Spencer nods his head excitedly, despite talking about such a melancholy novel, Spencer can’t help but feel so alive when talking with Y/N. It just seems so easy, so simple and effortless.
“My friend Penelope said that it’s a movie?” Spencer says, his voice ending on a question, “I’m a little distrustful of movie adaptations. They never live up to the hype,”
“Well, uh. I do happen to have a DVD of the movie at my house. I don’t mean to be forward so quick, but if you would feel comfortable-”
“What would your husband think about that?” Spencer asks, his curiosity and slightly snarky tendencies getting the best of him.
“Excuse me?” Y/N says, she pulls back like she’s been burned. Then she brings her hand, the one with the elusive wedding ring on her finger, to her chest. Spencer hates that he can read her face, read the way her smile contoured into a grimace.
“Or wife, or whoever you’re married to. I don’t mean to assume, Y/N. I just want them to know that we’re not...Well, I’m not too sure, you see. I’m really bad at reading signals,” Spencer says, quickly.
“I’m a widow, Spencer. My husband, Jude, he, uh, died two years ago,” Y/N says, guarding herself from Spencer, “I don’t know why I haven’t taken this off. I guess I want those 5 years to actually mean something,”
“I had no idea, Y/N. I didn’t know, I’m-I’m not sure what to say,” Spencer says, despite knowing exactly what he wants to say. He wants to tell her that he knows the bottomless helplessness that threatens to swallow him whole. It’s deafening down there and it breaks Spencer’s heart a little bit more to know that Y/N feels it too.
“It’s okay, Spencer. Sometimes I don’t want to be known as the 29 year old widow. Sometimes I don’t want people to know my past. I think I’m trying to put myself back together,” Y/N says, echoing back what Spencer has said millions of times over in NA meetings. But it’s different hearing it out of the mouth of someone else.
“It hard putting yourself back together,” Spencer says, “it’s hard to reimagine the future when the future you’ve been dreaming about was pulled out like a rug from under your feet,”
“Exactly,” Y/N says, she closes her eyes, steadying her breathing before continuing, “you sure you’re not a therapist, Spencer? You’ve gotten what I feel quicker than any therapist I’ve been to in the past two years,” she says, chuckling darkly.
“Uh, I’m,” Spencer starts, unsure of how to phrase what he’s about to tell Y/N, or if he should even tell her in the first place, “I’m putting myself back together again too. I lost my girlfriend five years ago and then some other things happened to me. So I’m gluing the pieces back together again. It’s hard,” Spencer says. Somehow he knows that even in those two little words, Y/N will know exactly what he’s trying to say.
“I’m sorry, Spencer. I know the pain, it’s suffocating. I’m sorry that you’re going through this,” Y/N says, placing her hand on his. Spencer covers her hand with his, and rubs his thumb against the back of her hand, letting her know that there’s someone else out there in this world that can understand the all consuming bleakness of her past.
“So my offer still stands, Spencer. I think you’ll enjoy the cinematography, it’s chilling in a way that even the book couldn’t capture,” Y/N says.
Her eyes are sparkling with what Spencer knows are tears. It took him months before he could even think about Maeve without crying, so he supposes that finding another person that completely understands the pain that comes with that loss can be a little overwhelming. Spencer listens intently as Y/N tells him all she loved about The Goldfinch, even though she enjoys The Secret History better.
Spencer comes to learn the little bookshop on Macmillan Ave is a time portal in which the demons of his job and the ghosts of his pasts can’t reach him. He wonders if it’s the same for Y/N. If her past can’t haunt her here, in between the comforts of stacks and stacks of fantasy worlds and self help manuals. Spencer ventures to think that he might have something to do with that feeling of timelessness for Y/N, because he’s sure she’s the reason for him.
***
“We’re closing up, Y/N,” Vivian, the bookstore owner says from the top of the stairs, “I know you two probably could go one for another hour, but it’s closing time,”
“I guess we wore out our welcome,” Y/N says, standing up, “Oh! How could I forget? Okay, Spencer now don’t count this one out, it’s a retelling of the Greek myth Circe,” she says, handing him a very worn out book with neon tabs sticking out from the sides.
“You said last week that you liked writing in books, so I just chose the book that I had written the most,” Y/N tells him with a weak smile, “I actually read this right after I lost Jude. It’s a strange piece of comfort for me,”
“Thank you for trusting me with this, Y/N,” Spencer says, meaning every word he says as he takes the book from Y/N’s hands and tucks it into his satchel.
“Here’s your assignment for the week,” Spencer teases, trying to lighten the dreary mood that fell between them, “I thought of it immediately while reading Never Let Me Go. I think you’ll like the ethics and the thinking it makes you do. Sorry, I’m not the best at describing what I read,” Spencer says, bounding up the stairs behind Y/N.
“Annihilation! I’ve been wanting to read this for ages. I read Jeff VanderMeer’s anthology series last month. Anyway, I think you’ll find that you’re better than you think, Spencer,” Y/N says, “Oh and um how’s Saturday night for the movie. I can make popcorn?” Y/N offers, holding the door out for Spencer as they wave goodnight to Vivian.
“I’d like that,” Spencer says, begging the excitement that rises up his neck to subside before he scares Y/N off before he can even get the chance to truly know her.
“Good, I’ll text you my address,” Y/N says, reaching in to hug him goodbye in the middle of the parking lot.
“I’ll see you in a couple of days,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N and walking towards his car, “Oh and Y/N, I can’t wait,” Spencer ducks down into his car, but doesn’t get low enough. He hits his head and much to his embarrassment, Y/N comes running over to check if he’s okay.
“I’m fine, Y/N. Please just get in your car and maybe we can forget that this happened,” Spencer begs, looking up at Y/N with bashful eyes.
“You gotta watch out for that hard head of yours, Spencer,” Y/N teases, tousling his hair in her hand. She waves him goodbye and walks back to her car, chuckling to herself.
Spencer watches her pull out of the parking lot, beeping as she leaves. His head doesn’t hurt that much after a few moments, but there’s a sting from where Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair. Spencer knows himself too well, he falls too fast. Driving away from the bookstore, Spencer thinks that seeing what’s on the outside of the door may not be such a bad thing after all.
***
Thank you everyone who reads this, I really love the idea that I have for this fic & I hope that you enjoyed this chapter
Whatever happened in Greece between Pierce Brosnan and Meryl Streep was only between them, it was their thing and even if their chemistry went beyond the screen and everyone noticed it. They both were married and stopped it before it become something more serious. Many times Meryl questioned her feelings about Mr Brosnan. At the beginning, she thought it was a normal crush like every woman in America, but there was something else that made her nervous whenever he was close to her. It was so obvious that even Don, her husband, must have felt something because he disliked her friendship with Pierce. She knew that if she was not careful with her actions, one day, she would give up and she would not be able to resist to his charms. He was a flirty gentleman by nature but with her, he was extremely good. She found herself thinking about him many times and having thoughts that scared her from herself. Now, the time has passed, 10 years and they shared set again, she rejected to do the whole movie because she was terrified that one day, she would end in some troubles with a married man but now, Pierce was divorced, he was free and her wildest thoughts had come back. She knew that her marriage was in risk but ten years ago, she put her marriage first and she didn’t get the expected result. The distance between her and Don seemed getting bigger and bigger. The arguments about why she kept working too much were part of her daily routine and now she was selling their place in New York, Don was living in Connecticut and she in Pasadena and she felt free for first time in almost 40 years and she let her inner free care Meryl accept the reunion or should she call it ‘date’ with Pierce Brosnan.
For some reason, she didn’t talk to anyone about her encounter with him, she kept it for herself. She wanted to impress, every time she was around him she wore the best wardrobe, sexy and elegant and even fans noticed it. They were right, she wanted to look better for him and this time was not the exception. She put on a navy dress, under the knee, medium length sleeves and a cleavage in V exposing a discrete view of her breasts, she put on a black belt around her waist and wore a pair of shoes matching with it. She left her blonde hair down and put on some makeup, not too much because she hated it. She didn’t drive so her nice driver took her until Pierce’s place and she asked him to leave and she would call him when she needed to be picked her up. Meryl felt a hole in her stomach as she made her way down to the door. She nibbled her bottom lip and hesitated for a couple of seconds before ring the doorbell and waited for him anxiously, she shook her head and repeated to herself “calm the fucking down” she was looking to behind admiring the place when the door opened, she turned to look at him and she smiled taking her sunglasses off to look into his deep blue eyes. “Hey, you” she said as casually as she could.
There is obviously something about Delicate and TS7... "it's Delicate"? And let's talk about Delicate being the last music video of the era.. hmmm... I'm just saying... it's leading into something...
