DRABBLE 1:
Rossi raised an eyebrow as Spencer limped towards the SUV he was currently leaning against. Reid had a very upset, and slightly pained, look on his face. This was going to be good.
"What's got you limping there, kid?" Dave asked, bearly contianing his smirk.
"My knee hurts because you made me climb up that damn ditch by myself!" Spencer hissed through bared teeth and Dave lifted both of eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer didn't curse, it was very unSpencerly.
"What's got your sweater vest in a knot?"
"I told you the doctor said I shouldn't be climbing, that I still need to take it easy, I just finished physical therapy!" Spencer half huffed, half growled, gritting his teeth as he limped up to the car.
"Whats got you so grumpy?"
"My knee hurts, Rossi."
"It can't hurt that much Ried." Rossi rolled his eyes.
"Tell you what, I'll shoot YOU in the knee and then you can climb up and down a ditch."
DRABBLE 2:
The team was riding back to Quantico in the jet. The case they had just wrapped up was pretty open and shut. There was a serial kidnapper taking seven yearold girls with blonde hair and brown eyes, who came to their attension when one of the girls was killed accidently and dumped in a local park. (I don't think thay had case like this, I just made it up because surely they have more cases then what we see.) He ended up up being a collector, they found where he was keeping the other girls when they searched his basement and managed to save the next target. The bastard was going to spend the rest of his life in jail. It was good case, or at least it was a good as they got.
Morgan was listening to music but promptly found himself bored and removing the headphones. Blake and JJ were whispering about something or other, occasionally giggling or snorting. Hotch was staring blankly out the window, thinking about something. Rossi was had his nose in a book and Reid was curled up, sleeping peacefully.
"Mhhmmm..." Reid's extremely slurred, sleepy vioce rang out into the realitive silence of plane, causin the group to glance over to the slumbering genius.
"Kid?" Morgan asked, mildly amused.
"Maeve..." Spencer slurred out before shifting around and settling with a smile.
"Awwwhhhhh." Blake and JJ cooed simutaniously.
"He's dreaming." JJ chuckled.
"I'm just glad he's finally letting himself sleep." Rossi huffed, but a smile played at his lips. He was glad that Reid was letting himself enjoy his dreams of Maeve.
"I'm not allowed to use this as blackmail, am I?" Morgan asked.
"Not unless you want to get fired."
DRABBLE 3:
Gideon's eyes scanned over the sea of potental new recruits at the FBI academy. Him and Hotch had been asked to come here to talk to profiling class. It wouldn't be the first time they had them go this but now it was different. His own mentor, Max Ryan, had retired and he took that at a sign that it was time for him to pick out his own kid to mentor. He had been looking for a little over a month, no one had been right so far. Intill today.
This one was different from the others. He wasn't dressed like a kid in his early twenties- late teens, he was dressed like a fifty year old man, decked out in a sweater vest and corderoys, the only youthful part of his attire was his converse shoes and mix-match socks. It was small, but it was something, his clinging to this particular childish footwear suggests a rushed childhood, making Gideon wander if this kid didn't already have multiple degrees. His hair was neat and combed and he had a stack of books with him and it was clear that they weren't all school related. They were thick, old looking books. This kid had to be smart, probably read fast to.
That wasn't all, the kid didn't ask the normal, dumdass questions like 'Have you ever shot anybody?' He asked real, detailed questions that further showed Gideon his intelligence. He noticed that some of the others would roll their eyes when the kid talked. He was an outcast. This further solidified in his mind that this kid was a genius of some sort. The kid was shy, he had a slight stutter when he talked and he moved his hands around when he talked in repeative motions, indicating that he may have a mild case of Aspergers Syndrome. He could work with that. He was sure, this kid was it.
Gideon ignored Hotch when he asked where he was going as he left, following the kid out of the classroom.
"Hey, kid, stop! I wanna talk to you!" He hollered out after the kid and the he stopped and looked over his shoulder with wide eyes.
"Agent Gideon? What-what are you doing here- I mean, uh, hi." He turned around to face Gideon.
"Please, just call me Gideon." He walked up and shook the man's hand, gestured that made the other uncomfortable. "What's your name, young man?"
"My name is- I'm, uh, Spencer Reid."
DRABBLE 4:
"Sorry I'm late." Spencer smiled, walking into the room.
"This is why I cook alone." Rossi said, and the others chuckled a little. Spencer picked up a glass of wine.
He knew that his sponser would be pissed when he found out that he had drank. It was rare that he ever did and he was always with the team when he did but that didn't stop his sponser from reading him the riot act. But this time it was different. He was here as a gesture of forgiveness. It was a forgiveness toast for him. Surely his sponser couldn't get too mad at him.
Right?
DRABBLE 5:
Spencer looked down at the ID in his hands. Blake's ID and Badge. He looked out the window and watched her go. He knew what this meant. Blake wasn't coming back, ever. They had lost yet another language specialist. He couldn't really blame Blake, this was a tough job. But there was one thing that bothered him.
Why was it that whenever someone left him like this, they left HIM something. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to return her ID. He would probably keep it. Like the book Maeve gave him or Gideons letter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I dunno if he kept Gideon's letter or not, I just like to think that he does :P
Just some random drabbles, will be updated sporadicly. Please review, my lovelies! They make me smile :)
