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A/n this is a follow up to chapter 23 of Scenes Unseen. You don't have to read that chapter to read this story, but I'd like it if you did!

Flesh Wound

"Hope is grief's best music." - Anonymous

The night sky was black except for the moon high overhead. Its light cast shadows over the driveway where they'd parked their SUV. Reid didn't notice the moon or the shadows that fell like cloaks of darkness over the house and yard. He descended last from the black SUV and pulled his gun from his holster.

Hotch silently dispersed the team and the cops around the perimeter of the one story ranch style home in a quiet neighborhood. Reid took off with JJ to the back of the house. They flattened against the cold and dingy siding that covered the home and waited. When the signal came through their earpieces, JJ reached for the screen door and pulled it open. Reid entered first with his gun in both hands and cleared the kitchen

He was about to step through the doorway to a hall at his right when something moved into the golden glow of his flashlight. "Freeze," he called out. "FBI! Put your hands in the air."

"Spence," he heard JJ cry out, and then she shoved him hard.

He felt something tug at the sleeve of his shirt just below the shoulder of his right arm, and then he hit the wall and stumbled. His flashlight flew out of his hand at the same time another gun blast filled the room. He fell, rolled and came to his feet just as the lights flooded the room.

"Don't move," JJ, ordered as a man roughly the size of a small mountain bore down on them.

"Stop," Reid called out and brought up his gun.

"Get outta my way, bitch or I'll kill you."

"Freeze," Hotch commanded as he hurried into the kitchen with Morgan on his heels.

Morgan tackled the big man with enough force to bring any man to the ground. The un-sub staggered but didn't go down. Morgan held on with his arms around the big man's neck. "Stop it," he ordered in a breathless voice.

Morgan grunted and tightened his grip so that the big man stopped and dropped to his knees. He tried to flip Morgan over his shoulders, but Morgan held on as Hotch and another police officer joined them and wrestled him into handcuffs.

"Ow," the man cried as Morgan released him. "I'll kill you little man," he spat at Morgan.

"Little," Rossi said as he entered the kitchen. "That's not a word I'd use to describe you, Derek."

"Ha, ha," Morgan said. "Get up and behave," he hissed at the giant. It took the four of them to manhandle the un-sub out to a waiting cop car.

"Did you find her?" Reid asked.

"What the hell happened to you?" Rossi asked, as he ignored Reid's inquiry.

"Spence, are you okay?"

Blake and JJ converged on him like a lioness with her cub. He flinched and tried to pull away, but JJ grabbed his arm.

"Ouch, damn it," he cried out.

"You're bleeding!"

Blake got on her radio. "Hotch, Reid's hurt, we need a medic."

"I'm alright," he yanked his arm away from JJ. "Where's Katie?"

"We've got her," Detective Sloane said as he reentered the kitchen. "She's fine. We made it just in time. You okay. He directed at Reid."

"I'm alright," he repeated as if they were all five years old.

"No, you're not. You were shot."

"JJ, leave it alone."

Two medics entered the kitchen with Hotch and Morgan on their heels.

"What the hell, man?"

"Reid, what happened?"

"It's just a scratch."

He craned his head around to look at the patch of crimson blood on his white dress shirt. "See, no bullet in my flesh. I can walk on my own power and it doesn't even hurt that much."

"That's because your adrenaline is still raging," said one of the medics. "Get back, please," he said to JJ.

"Fine," she huffed and stepped back to lean against the counter that held the kitchen sink.

"Doesn't look too bad," said the second medic.

He took off Reid's vest and shirt. He started to examine the wound while his partner wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Reid's left arm.

"BP 140/89," he announced after a long minute of quiet, broken only by the sound of his hand pumping the sphygmomanometer bulb.

He ripped off the cuff and put his stethoscope to Reid's chest. "Chest sounds clear. Heart rate is up."

"No fucking wonder," Morgan said and ignored a glaring stare from Hotch.

"I'm fine," Reid insisted.

The medic moved around back and said, "Deep breaths please."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," said everyone in the room at the same time."

"Fine," he breathed in for the medic. "Are you happy?"

"Yes," they all said again.

"Stop it," he said as Morgan and Rossi grinned at him and Hotch glowered, but his glare didn't have quite the same power as usual. Blake was staring at him and he could feel JJ's eyes on the back of his head.

"Alright, I'll cooperate," he said with extreme politeness that had Morgan rolling his eyes."

"Good," said the medic. "Let's get you to the hospital."

"I don't need to go to the hospital."

"Yes you do," Hotch said. "You know why."

Reid huffed out a breath. "I know, Workman's Compensation Insurance."

"That, and what are you gonna do if it gets infected," Blake wanted to know.

"I said I'd go… You don't have to gang up on me."

"Apparently we do," Rossi said. "I don't know why you're complaining. You get a few days off to relax while the rest of us do paperwork until doomsday on this little case."

"I don't care about the time off; it's filling out the yellow sheet that's giving me a headache."

Everyone laughed, including Hotch. "Don't you have a stack of them in your desk at the office," Rossi wondered.

"NO!" He almost shouted.

"Yes, he does," Morgan, said at the same time.

Reid threw him a black look. "Go away and leave me alone."

"Not in this lifetime, kid. I'm staying with you."

"Me too," JJ said.

"Then let's get going," said the nearest medic despite the glower turned on him by Reid.

CMCMCM

He inhaled the wonderful ambrosia of his favorite beverage, coffee with lots of lovely, sweet sugar. He sighed and hurried to a table just inside the door of his usual morning hangout, Starbucks. The best thing about a gunshot wound to the arm was that he had two. He could hang his messenger bag over his good shoulder and still carry his cup of coffee. Walking on crutches and trying to carry coffee was a challenge he never wanted to repeat ever again.

He was about two thirds through a new philosophy book for his new Master's course when he looked up and saw her. She was just turning away from the cashier when he caught her eye. She smiled and his stomach hitched. Her eyes lit up and she walked over to his table.

"It must be Kismet," she said.

"Um, really," he squeaked and then cleared his throat.

"Can I sit with you?"

"Sure."

Oh yeah, he wanted her to sit down so he could look into her beautiful eyes again.

"I'm sorry, I know we don't know each other, but since I nearly knocked you over a couple of weeks ago, I thought I better apologize."

"It's okay. I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"Why don't we start over? My name is Hope."

"I'm Reid, um I mean, my name is Spencer Reid, uh, Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Did you put that sling on your own arm?"

He smiled at her when she winked at him. "Oh, no I'm not a medical doctor."

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"Actually, I have three doctorates."

Her eyebrows went up and she sipped at the double latte she had in her hand. "Are you some kind of genius?"

"Um, yeah, I am."

"Oh, that was supposed to be a joke. You're really a genius."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not from where I'm standing. You're the best looking smart guy I know."

He drank from his coffee so he didn't have to look at her eyes, even though they made his stomach do flips.

"I'm nothing special."

"Why don't you let me decide that?"

Starbucks was beginning to empty out. He should be going, but he suddenly didn't care if he were late for work that morning.

"You have pretty eyes," he blurted out and then wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

She went very rosy in the cheeks and it enhanced her oval shaped face. His stomach flipped again and he realized that he wasn't the one blushing.

"Thank you."

"Look, I'm sorry. We don't know each other, but -"

"Sometimes, you have to seize the opportunity that's before you or you miss out on something great."

"Each day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbons."

She grinned at him. "I've never heard that one."

"It's a quote from Ruth Ann Shabacker."

"I'm going to have to go look her up," Hope said. "She sounds like a very smart woman."

"I haven't read too much of her work," he started to say, but then he grimaced and rubbed at his right shoulder.

"You okay."

"Yeah, I got shot two days ago."

"What? How?"

"On duty," he reached with his left hand and pulled his badge out of his pocket.

"You're a cop."

He flinched a little at the hard tone in her voice.

"I'm a profiler for the FBI at Quantico."

"Oh," she looked out the window at the grey sky and then back at him. "Um, I'm gonna be late. I'll see you later."

"But, I don't know -"

She grabbed her cup of coffee and her bag. "I have to go. I'm really late. I'll see you later, Dr. Reid."

She was gone and he was left with a cup of cold coffee and his heart somewhere in the region of his shoes.

What did I do this time?