Why did he ask her for coffee? Spencer spent the next fifteen minutes trying to figure that out. He was not in the best place, emotionally, at this point in his life. It was not the best time to be forging new friendships. Unfortunately, there was no way he could rescind the invitation without coming off like a jerk. So, he went along with it.

Once they'd both ordered their coffee, the pair sat down in a booth seated near the back of the restaurant. Spencer did not miss the way she insisted on facing the door, the way her eyes continually darted from his face to the rest of the cafe. Her nails were picked short, to the point Spencer was surprised they didn't cause her pain. If he had to guess, Spencer wouldn't be surprised to find out she chewed them.

"So, Spence." She spoke after a few moments, "I, ah, haven't seen you around the building."

Spence. No one called him that expect for J.J. And, now, Jessica. "My job keeps my pretty busy." Spencer offered, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What do you do?"

He froze. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to know that. Most people, they tended to react rather badly to the fact that he worked for the FBI. He took another sip of his coffee, "You first."

She fidgeted in her seat. She seemed reluctant, if not more so, to talk about what she did for a living. He couldn't picture her being involved with anything illegal. She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear.

Instead of answering the question, Jessica chose to redirect the conversation. "So, ah, nice weather today."

Spencer bit back a smile. "Hm. Quite humid for this time of year."

More silence. "This ...this is awkward, right?"

His smile broadened, "Totally awkward." He agreed.

"I suck at small talk." Her nose crinkled in a quite adorable fashion.

"I never managed to quite grasp the art of small talk, either." Spencer assured her, "It always just seemed so...pointless."

"I could not agree more. Like, who cares about the weather? I mean, now, if the sun were hurtling down towards the earth and we were facing a mass extinction, than I would care."

She was rambling. Being guilt of himself on more than one occasion, it didn't bother Spencer. He did find her sudden change in disposition alarming. She'd gone from foul mouth and fiery tempered woman to bubbly and charismatic at such an alarming rate, Spencer almost suffered from whiplash.

She must have seen the look on his face because her jaw immediately snapped shut. "I'm...I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"It doesn't bother me." He assured her, in case she was thinking it did, "I'm guilty of it myself."

The two fall into a rather easy back and forth panter. She slipped in a few curse words but, overall, Spencer found he was enjoying himself. Ever since Mauve's death, he'd found it hard to connect with anyone...especially with anyone knew. The other members of his team had done their best to comfort him but things just ...they just seemed different now.

Jessica reached for her coffee, only to send the cup flying. Hot coffee spilled across the table, right into Spencer's lap. He lurched from his seat but it was too late. He was now officially drenched in scalding liquid.

"Oh my god!" Jessica gasped, attempting to slosh up the liquid with towels. "I am so sorry!"

Spencer reached for a napkin to try and help clean up the mess. Jessica flinched. No, she did more than that. The petite redhead recoiled, as if expecting some kind of punishment for what had clearly been an accident.

"It-it's fine." Spencer spoke through gritted teeth. He was thankful that the coffee had time to cool, otherwise there probably would have been more serious injuries.

A waitress made her way over to their table, bringing reinforcements. "I've got this. Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up, honey."

Spencer bristled at being referred to as "honey." The waitress wasn't much older than himself. Then again, Spencer always did have a youthful appearance. The way he dressed didn't help..

He dipped into the men's room real quick. There wasn't much he could do there. He'd have to return to his apartment for a fresh change of clothing. When he reappeared, Jessica was gone. On their table, beside his phone and bag, was a note.

"Spence, the locksmith called. I'm headed back to my apartment."

The note was simple, to the point. No mention of if the two would meet again as it was fairly obvious they would. Afterall, she lived just down the hall from him. He shoved the note into his pocket, snagged his bag from beside his chair, and started to pay for their coffee.

"No need. Your friend already did that."

Spencer's eyebrow pinched. She'd paid for his coffee? He'd have to pay her back. When Spencer returned to his apartment, the locksmith had come and go. He hesitated in front of her door, trying to decide if he should knock or not. He didn't. He went inside his own apartment.

Four missed calls. Spencer grimaced. Apparently, Derek had called. Several times. While he'd been in the restroom. He called him back.

"Hey, player." Derek greeted, a slight teasing in his tone, "So, you wanna tell me why a girl is answering your phone?"

Spencer resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. Jessica had answered his phone? "She's….she's just a friend." Spencer lied. Well, it wasn't technically a lie. Or was it? Spencer didn't even know at that point.

"A friend, huh? She sounds cute."

Spencer could have pointed out that there was no scientific way Derek could tell that just from a phone conversation, that there was no direct correlation between a person's physical appearance and the sound of their voice. He didn't. He knew that, behind Derek's teasing, he meant well.

They'd each, in their own way, attempted to push him back into the dating pool. Spencer had resisted. He hadn't been ready. He still wasn't ready.

"Is, ah, is there something you wanted?" Spencer asked.

Chuckling, Derek told him that, despite it being his day off, Hotch needed him to come in. Another day, another case.