Realizations

"It all comes down to the Lacanian Psychoanalysis triangle! The real, the symbolic and the imaginary!" Spencer Reid shifted in his seat, bringing his lecture to a close. He grinned widely and drew his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged like a small, over-excited child.

Both Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan stared back at him, unsure of how to respond to their hyperactively genius coworker.

"Wow…So this is what it feels like to lose an hour of your life," Emily raised an eyebrow and made a move to get up from her desk, straightening the Thanksgiving-themed decorations that Garcia had adorned all of their desks with.

The bullpen was quiet and they were the only three left there except for Hotch who most likely lived at the BAU until every last folder, photo, staple was in place. Even Garcia had gone home, though not before insisting on giving them each a kiss with the promise of a happy Thanksgiving.

"Pretty Boy, no offence but I just don't understand," Morgan leaned over and ruffled Reid's newly short hair, enjoying the way the delicate strands felt soft and silky as they slid through his fingers.

"I thought it was obvious….Lacan's theory on the psyche….Freud's interpretation of dreams? Duh?" Reid raised his eyebrows, fiddling with the rim of his venti Starbucks coffee – black like usual, syrupy with melted sugar.

Morgan drew his brow together and then burst out laughing. "I'm sorry Pretty Boy, did you just 'duh' me?" He crouched in front of Reid and peered at him.

Reid giggled, blushing under Morgan's intense gaze. His feelings for his coworker had not gone unnoticed by him and he never knew quiet how to deal with Morgan's familiar touchy behavior. "No," he smiled, glancing down at the sleeves of his hunter green sweater pulled over his fingers.

The heat in the BAU bullpen had two gages: either intensely overheated or scarily under-heated. It drove the members of the team insane and over the years they had learned to always store an extra sweater in their desk drawer.

"I think you did, kid," Morgan wiggled his fingers, grinning. "You know what happens to people who say 'duh'?"

Reid instinctively wrapped his arms around himself as though he was anticipating Morgan's next move and held up his mismatched socked feet as defense. "Tickling is a recognize form of torture, you know," he said slowly, enunciating the word torture. Morgan had his eyes trained on him and Reid wriggled in his seat and hunched his legs together like a sharp fence.

But Morgan was faster and in seconds his hands had wrapped around Reid's thin frame and he was worming his fingers under his ribs. Reid let out a shrill giggle, doubling over while simultaneously trying to jab Morgan in the jaw with his sharp kneecaps.

"S-st-stop-pl-lee-easee, Morgan," he squealed, stabbing his long fingers into any empty space possible to defer his coworker. "Ah-I-I just ate a d-du-doh-" he was cut off as Morgan moved closer and the inviting smell of his cologne overpowered Reid's ability to think in cohesive sentences.

"I'm sorry, what? Did you just say 'duh'?" Morgan moved his hands from Reid's ribs to under his arms, loving how he was creating such a giddish reaction from his normally formal and prude friend. Their noses banged together and just as Morgan was going to let up, Reid grabbed a stuffed pumpkin from his desk, hurling it at his aggressor and hitting him in the cheek.

"Pleeeeease," Reid wheezed, writhing in his desk chair as Morgan perched on the edge on his knees. "T-t-torture!" He panted, loving and hating the way Morgan's warm fingers danced over his body.

He then grabbed a string of light-up plastic baby corns to use as a weapon but he had underestimated the weight of the corns and Reid found himself tipping out of his chair, bringing Morgan and the remaining Thanksgiving decorations down with him with a large thud.

"Hey Reid-woah, sorry I am interrupting something?" Emily returned to the bullpen with a large blueberry muffin in her hand, more than a little surprised at the sight before her.

Reid was partially under his desk, fake leaves littering his hair and creating a sort of pilgrim halo. A large string of flashing baby corns was wrapped around his wrist and draped over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a bright pink and his button down shirt and sweater were twisted in opposing directions around his middle. Morgan lay panting on top of him, leaves also covering most of his body.

Both agents looked up, their eyes bright and twinkling and suddenly Morgan jumped to his feet, brushing bits of a smashed gourd from his dress shirt and hoisting Reid up by his forearm.

"Just teaching Pretty Boy here that he can't be abusing his genius powers with his coworkers," he patted Reid on the shoulder and then cleared his throat awkwardly.

Emily looked pointedly at Reid who was dusting himself off and looking rather too on edge for just having been caught having a play fight with his best friend.

"Oh," she remarked, deciding to drop it. "I was just leaving but I wanted to ask you guys what you were both doing for Thanksgiving?"

Derek grinned, "back to Chicago. I can't wait to have a whole four days of doing nothing but eating, watching the big game and seeing my family."

"What about you, Reid?"

Reid cleared his throat and leaned awkwardly against his desk. "Umm, nothing really. Just probably staying here. My mom isn't big on Thanksgiving…." He trailed off, fiddling with a button on his sweater.

"Oh….I'm sorry Reid," Emily was unsure of what to say. She would have invited him to her family's dinner but she knew it would have just ruffled her mother's feathers to have an unexpected guest.

"Woah, woah," Morgan held up his hands. "Reid, you can't just stay here by yourself. No, man, no way. You're coming with me to Chicago."

Reid looked at his hand self-consciously, "no, I don't want to intrude, Morgan. It's your family time…."

"Reid you're practically family, man," Morgan protested. He faced Reid and put his hands on his shoulders, peering into his eyes. "Don't hide behind that hair either. You're coming. No exceptions."

Reid blushed, feeling the heat from Morgan's wide hands envelope his small shoulders and he forced his own hazel eyes to look into Morgan's chocolate brown ones. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now let's get you a plane ticket."

Should there be another chapter? Reid & Review please!