Here's the deal, my pretties. I'm still working on War Crimes (thank you to all those followers!), but doing this for fun on the side. As you may have surmised, this is the first of a set of drabbles, revolving around Christmas. They will take place in all seasons. Some mush, some silliness, some angst. Some romance, some team, some secondary characters, some victims, maybe even some unsubs. Merry Christmas to one and all.
The Hat Thief
Emily came out of the file room and spotted Morgan's empty chair right away. Aha. Ahahaha. Now was her chance.
She scooted over to his desk and opened one of the bottom drawers, all the way to the back where there was a little space behind the files. Sometimes it held candy or snacks, or phone numbers, or the trashy magazines that he thought were his little secret, which was pretty damn hilarious when you thought about it.
The empty space mocked her.
Damn.
"Emily?" Reid said from behind her. "What are you doing?"
She propped her hands on her hips, staring down into the drawer. "Looking for Morgan's stupid hat. He's not wearing it, is he?"
"No."
"Oh, jesus, Strauss didn't zoom in on her broom and take it, did she?" It was just the kind of thing their humorless superior would write him up for.
"No."
"Well, then, where -" She turned and saw him.
He gave her a crooked little smile. On his head, he wore a plastic top hat, bright red with a green band. There was a piece of wire, attached to the band, that curved out and dangled a clump of plastic mistletoe in the air.
When Derek Morgan wore it, he'd looked a little silly, but mostly hot. It was the Morgan factor. Everything became hot when he wore it, although even Penelope had admitted that this dumb hat strained the Morgan factor pretty hard.
When Spencer Reid wore it, he looked ridiculous. He had no factor. If anything, his factor went the other way; he could make a leather jacket look like it was missing a pocket protector. In this, the dumbest hat known to man, he looked like a total, complete, and unspeakable geek.
He looked like her geek.
Her funny, sweet, strange geek, who wasn't afraid to look superlatively silly in a mistletoe hat.
Her hot, smart, sexy geek, who'd had exactly the same thought as she had.
"Wow," she said.
"Yep."
"Great minds think alike, apparently."
"You want it?" He made a move to take it off.
"No, that's fine, I like it on you." She moved closer and flicked the mistletoe, so it swayed gently. "So tell me, Dr. Reid, what exactly is the origin of the mistletoe tradition?"
"It's a parasitic plant," he said, catching her hand as it trailed down his front. "Well, partially parasitic, a hemiparasite, which makes it botanically fascinating." He walked backward toward the file room, pulling her along with him. She went willingly, grinning. "Traditionally, it's thought to bestow fertility and virility, possibly due to the white berries' resemblance to - "
"I can figure that part out myself, thanks." She yanked the door shut behind them.
Some time later, the door to the file room whipped open. They jumped apart.
Morgan stood in the doorway, shaking his head. "Like you two really need an excuse to mack on each other." He leaned in, plucked the hat off Reid's head, and plonked it on his own. "If you need me, I'll be visitin' the sweetest mama in the FBI."
"We won't," Emily promised. "Close the door, would you?"