Chapter Text
The soft clink of champagne glasses on the waiter’s tray was just audible over the murmur of conversation around the room as the guests mingled. Spencer took a glass with a small smile of thanks to the passing waiter and glanced at his watch yet again, hoping that for once in his life his internal clock was wrong and he might soon escape. Alas, accurate to the second, as always. He sighed.
This dance had been the same every time he started at a new university since he was 12 years old. There were always compulsory welcome drinks for VIPs, child prodigies and new faculty members; fizzy water or cheap champagne and uninspired canapés. He was expected to turn up and allow himself to be shown off by the Dean of the University like a shiny new toy, to smile and make nice with all the important people. It was worse now of course, after his successes at CalTech, and more recently Oxford. He could hear the envious whispers behind his back already, ‘’youngest Tenured professor in years’, revolutionised the theory around Probabilistic Algorithms’, ‘Field’s Medal winner at 20’ and, most damning, ‘expecting a Nobel this year’. He wouldn’t mind so much if those around him were actually interested in the work he was doing. Instead those who bothered to speak to him were sycophants interested only in whether his prestige might rub off on them if they stood close enough, or those who were so consumed by their own jealousy they could barely look at him.
Spencer stiffened as the Dean clasped his elbow and steered him towards an elderly man, seemingly oblivious to Spencer’s discomfort at the physical contact. “You simply must meet Professor Armitage, Doctor Reid, he’s something of an institution here at Georgetown, Senior lecturer in -”
“Classics, teaching Ancient Greek literature, culture and language. Been a member of the faculty since 1991.” Spencer cut in somewhat abruptly, unwilling to go through yet another long winded introduction to someone he had absolutely no interest in meeting. He nodded at Armitage in greeting, who, to his amusement, looked equally as thrilled to meet Spencer despite the Dean’s enthusiasm. Unfortunately for them both, the Dean was tenacious and continued a conversation with them that neither could politely extract themselves from.
Spencer found himself switching off from the conversation as he nodded at appropriate points in the Dean’s story, allowing his mind to wander. He thought longingly of his former life at Oxford, the quirky spaces afforded by the historic Trinity college where he had lived, the glorious Bodleian Library where he had spent many a happy hour researching, the joys of being surrounded by others in his department equally as excited by what cutting-edge Mathematics could offer the world. He missed it desperately, hated having to start again in a new place, and one so very different to where he had left. Spencer had made the choice to leave England and return to America for many reasons, not least the need to be closer to family, to his mother. But that didn’t mean it was easy, especially when confronted with the newness of it all.
“So what brings you to Georgetown, Doctor Reid? I heard you were quite settled in England?” A question from Armitage broke through Spencer’s introspection. He debated for a moment about which answer to give. The polite, politically safe one, or the truth?
“Money,” Spencer replied, his eyes dancing at the visible shock on the Dean’s face, clearly having expected the same bland answer he had given everyone else about wanting a change and the opportunities offered by Georgetown. But Spencer was bored and feeling mischievous, and didn’t feel like toeing the party line any more. “Family commitments promoted a return to the States and Georgetown offered me more money than anyone else to research here, as well as full control over my studies and my team. Plus a reduced teaching timetable limited to post-grad courses. As inspiring as a life in academia is, the bills still need to be paid, and I wanted a post with as much time as possible devoted to furthering my research before someone else proves my theory before me.”
“Quite right, renumeration is so important,” Armitage’s smile was warm in response which surprised Spencer, expecting the old man to be shocked at such a materialistic answer to his question. For surely academia was expected to be a ‘calling’ and beyond such trivialities as salary concerns?
The Dean spluttered and tried to bring the conversation back on track with talk about facilities but the moment was gone. Both Spencer and Armitage were well aware the only reason Spencer was there was for the cold hard cash, no matter how lovely the new computer suite was, while for the university it was all about the prestige of having him on staff even if it had cost them dearly. It had however broken the ice between the two men and they did their best to ignore the Dean as they made small talk about life at Georgetown.
Finally the Dean was called over to greet someone new and Spencer was able to excuse himself too, his capacity for meaningless chatter more than exhausted. He promised Armitage he would find him once he had settled in to his new life for an evening of chess then found a quiet corner and took a seat, relieved to be out of view for a while.
All told he had managed to kill nearly twenty minutes in the discussion which he was pleased about. He estimated it would be 13 minutes before the Dean would say a few words welcoming all the new faculty members and then Spencer could make his excuses and leave. Not long then until he could go back to his new apartment and curl up on the sofa with something better than cheap fizz and bland finger food. Thai perhaps? Spencer ticked through the local restaurant menus in his head, debating where to order from. He already had a favourite and if he timed it right he could pick it up on his way home…
The gentle ting of a fork striking a champagne glass brought everyone’s attention back to the front as conversation petered out across the room.
“Thank you all for coming this evening,” The Dean started, “We welcome back to our returning staff after the summer, and offer a warm welcome to those joining us this year. It looks to be an exciting semester ahead with the new…”
Bored, Spencer tuned him out and allowed his eyes to wander around the room. It was rude of him but he had listened to similar speeches so many times before and there was never anything new or interesting to learn from it. He observed the usual groups of cliques and stereotypes that populated every school, departments congregating together across the room. Spencer amused himself for a minute categorising each group against the subjects researched at the University, pairing them with ease. Those who worked at the highest levels of education always had a certain ‘look’ about them regardless of age or gender - mismatched trousers and jackets in neutral tones and scuffed brown leather shoes. He himself had always argued he was too busy reinventing the world to care about ‘fashion’ when well-meaning friends tried to update his clothing. He glanced down at his own outfit complete with checked shirt and cord khaki-green trousers with wry humour, seeing that he would fit in with his new Mathematics team without any sartorial changes needed.
Spencer turned to focus his attention back onto the Dean when he caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye. Leaning against the far wall there was a man on his own who most definitely didn’t fit with the rest of the crowd. Spencer looked again. He must have arrived late, as this was the first time Spencer has seen him, and he would have most definitely have noticed him before. The man stood out. He was a bold splash of black and white amongst the muted sepia of academia; an outsider, a changeling. Monochrome man - a professor, Spencer assumed, given the event they were at and the man’s approximate age of 40 - was tall, dark and classically handsome. What had caught Spencer’s eye though was that he was dressed in a sharp black suit with a crisp white shirt, dark tie and perfectly polished shoes. Spencer watched him, intrigued. This was not someone familiar with the dress code of academics. This was someone interesting, someone different. His expression was serious, out of step with the lightness of introductory drinks with the Dean. He held himself well, back straight and not a hair out of place. But despite the outward appearance of ease, he was tense, his right fist straying to his belt as if reaching for something. He looked around the room constantly, as if looking for something, or someone. Looking for threats. What danger could there possibly be here? Spencer thought with a sigh as he clapped politely along with everyone else as the Dean finished up.
Law, Spencer finally decided, flicking his eyes over monochrome man once more as they all moved across the room. It wasn’t a perfect match which irked but it was as close as Spencer could get without hearing him talk and gaining further clues. He had a Lawyer-y look about him with the slick suit but Spencer was sure there was more to it. He didn’t look like he’d come fresh from a courtroom or expensive corner office. But he also didn’t look like someone who spent their time lecturing and marking student’s work. Spencer could ask of course, the Dean would no doubt be delighted to introduce him. But that would be cheating, as would speaking to him directly.
This man was an intrigue. Doctor Spencer Reid was a fan of many things, he had many interests. But there was nothing Spencer liked more than a good puzzle.
To Spencer’s frustration, no matter how he moved around the room the Monochrome Man eluded him. He was forced into greeting several people he had been trying to avoid, sycophants and rivals alike, thanks to his sudden visibility. Spencer gritted his teeth, offered his best political smile and refused to be swayed into conversation beyond the bare minimum of polite greetings. He was motivated now, he wanted to observe the outsider and find out what he could before someone ended the mystery for him. Eventually he found himself a few feet away and in the company of a couple of Professors from Engineering who he had met before at a conference. He allowed himself to be engaged in gentle conversation, all the while watching the other man. Mystery Man was deep in discussion with the Associate Dean of Research, Doctor Nancy Perry. She touched his arm lightly to emphasis a point and Spencer was interested to see the minute flinch, disguised as a shift in posture. This was someone uncomfortable with casual touch, but practiced at hiding it.
He couldn’t hear what was being said, which in itself was interesting. The man spoke little and smiled even less, despite the best efforts of the Associate Dean to encourage him. To have caught her attention implied he was important. So not a research Fellow, here for a semester to further a career outside. They were commonplace and tended towards ruthless networking at events, focussing on integrating themselves quickly into University life, knowing it was only for a matter of weeks. What else? Channeling his inner Sherlock Holmes, Spencer looked for clues. Well presented, at ease with authority figures. Probably one himself previously, and likely to be of high rank here too in whichever field he researched. Definitely new to this job though. There was no familiarity between him and the other guests, no nodded greeting to a colleague across the room. He appeared casually comfortable, champagne glass in hand. But Spencer noticed two things which contradicted the impression the man was making. Firstly, the glass was untouched - merely a prop for the situation. And secondly, an almost imperceptible tic - thumb rubbing the tips of his fingers of his empty hand - showed his discomfort at the situation.
When the Associate Dean left Spencer watched with interest as Monochrome Man stood on his own, not attempting to network or engage in conversation, merely observing the room. Their eyes met and Spencer froze in surprise, before looking away, flushing in embarrassment at getting caught staring. He couldn’t resist glancing back up a moment later, only to be met by an intense set of brown eyes and a raised eyebrow. Spencer grinned sheepishly and nodded in apology, acknowledging his faux pas, then turned away to avoid temptation. When he looked back, a minute or so later, Monochrome man was gone.
Despite his best covert efforts, Spencer failed to find out anything further that evening about the intriguing new Professor. He was mildly disappointed not to solve the mystery of who the man was and why he was at Georgetown, but grateful that the little challenge he had set himself had consumed the time he had allotted to the event. Feeling pleased with himself at having made the best of a bad evening, he safely slipped away in search of Thai food and his comfy sofa.