A/N: A post ep for True Night

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and the phone conversation between Morgan and Garcia are not mine.

The Chair

Penelope Garcia sat downtrodden in her chair, staring at her computer screens. She had finished tidying up her office a few minutes ago and was now trying to get her chair to the exact right height. She was having trouble pushing the lever with her bad arm, and there was no conceivable way that she could push it with the other. Silently, she cursed Kevin Lynch and his destruction of her haven, but the anger lasted only until she pictured that adorable smile of his.

"Drat!" she muttered as her hand slipped from the chair's lever once more. She smacked it lightly and sighed, returning her attention to her computers. She tapped a few keys, debating what to do. She ran over the information from newspapers and what the BAU had been sending her from LA, and stopped when a name she recognized came up.

With a sigh, she gave in and dialed Morgan's number.

"Hey," came his smooth voice. "How you feelin, baby girl?"

"I--I just can't seem to get my chair adjusted just right again," she replied, making another attempt at fixing the chair's height. "But ... other than that, I'm mortified."

"Mortified?" Morgan queried, Garcia twirled her chair a little.

"Please tell me the unsub isn't Johnny McHale the graphic novelist," she said, silently hoping it wasn't.

"Don't tell me you're a fan of this guy," came Morgan's exasperated response.

"Oh my god, yes!' Garcia protested. "He's a genius!"

"Well, sweetheart, you should see what he thought the victims looked like before he killed them," Morgan replied, Garcia groaned. That was far more information than she wanted, and she found her silent cursing of Kevin Lynch replaced by the silent cursing of Derek Morgan for the images that were now playing through her imagination; she was so caught up that she hardly noticed when Morgan hung up.

She clicked over to one of her Blogs, prepared to rant about Johnny's arrest (in nonspecific terms, of course), but as she shot from website to website she thought about her violated space and the mess she'd found her office in. She wanted to give Kevin Lynch a piece of her mind.

She debated hacking into his system, but the thought died when she remembered the amount of work that would entail. First she had to find his system, then get in, and after their battle a few days before she wasn't up for a lengthy fight. She wanted something quick, just a way to berate him for his insensitivity.

So, instead, she rose from her chair and reached for her coat where Morgan had hung it. She dug through the pockets, pulling out the small piece of paper with Kevin Lynch's number on it. She patted herself on the back for not refusing it when he'd offered, pleased to have a chance to give him a piece of her mind. She returned to her chair, its height forgotten, and dialed the man's number.

He picked up after two rings.

"Kevin Lynch," he said.

"Just who do you think you are?" Garcia queried angrily.

"Uh, what?" he spluttered. "Who is this?"

"It's Penelope Garcia and I have a bone to pick with you," Garcia replied. She heard him start an answer, but quickly cut him off. "What right do you have to go into someone's office leave a mess? And change everything? And leave the chair at the wrong height? And-"

"Penelope," Lynch said calmly, cutting off Garcia's rant. "Would you like me to come by and put it all back?" Garcia silently returned to her cursing of Kevin Lynch. Not only was he cute, he was considerate.

"No, I want you to apologize and promise you'll never do it again," she said.

"I doubt I'll ever be in your office for it to happen again anyway," was his response.

"That," Garcia said, "is not helpful."

The response she got was the dial tone. She rolled her eyes and hung up, figuring that Lynch just couldn't face up to his own faults. She returned to trying to fix her chair, and ten minutes later an unexpected knock made her jump. She twirled the chair around to find Kevin Lynch standing in the doorway.

"Looks like you've got it pretty much back to normal," he said with that annoying grin. Garcia nodded.

"Yes, except the chair," she said, pointing to her seat. Lynch laughed, earning him a glare from the young woman. He held up his hands in defense and strode towards her.

"All right, all right," he said. "What's the problem?" Garcia glared at him once again and motioned to her near immobile shoulder. "Oh, right." He knelt down before her and wrapped his fingers around the little lever. "Lemme know when it's just right," he said, pushing down.

"Perfect," Garcia said after a brief second, Lynch let the lever go and stood. Garcia gazed up at him. A nervous look had replaced the smile and he scratched at the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her.

"I, uh, guess I'd better go," he said. He started to turn away, but Garcia stood and grabbed his elbow, turning him back. She placed a light kiss on his cheek, suppressing a chuckle at the blush that rose to his cheeks.

"Thank you," she said. He nodded.

"You're, uh," he cleared his throat. "You're welcome," he said. He turned away and left the room, walking as though he were in a trance. Garcia chuckled and sat back down, returning to her usual surfing of the internet and infringement on cyberspace; her chair back where it should be.