Over Valentine's I was busy working on another story for NCIS, but I had this idea for Criminal Minds that I really wanted to use. I hope that you all enjoy! Please remember to review after you read - thanks so much for the support!
Now, enjoy!
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"Hey, Garcia," JJ called as the tech analyst appeared on the screen in the jet.
"Morning, sweetheart!" Penelope called back with a bright smile. "Now that the case is wrapped up and we're not dealing with blood and killers and yucky stuff, happy Valentine's Day!"
"Valentine's was four days ago," Rossi observed. Penelope shrugged.
"I couldn't very well celebrate when you were all tracking down a serial murderer!"
"Good point," Rossi admitted. "I'll get you roses when we get back if you like."
"Like?! Of course I'd love flowers!" Penelope gasped. "I'll get out my unicorn vase!"
"Great," Rossi chuckled.
"Happy Valentine's, Gorgeous," Derek Morgan said, finally getting his chance to speak.
"Happy Valentine's to you, Hot Stuff! Hey, where is the boy genius?"
"Spence? Penny's on the screen and wants to talk to you," JJ called. Spencer took off his head phones and came around, blinking sleepily.
"Hey, Garcia."
"Happy Valentine's, Prize Winner Poet!"
"Wait - what?" Spencer spluttered, blushing a dark red.
"Why did you call him that?" Derek questioned.
"Because of this!" Penelope lifted a magazine and pointed to the page entitled "Winner of Our Annual Valentine's Poetry Contest - Dr. Spencer Reid!" Penelope pointed to the author's description - "Dr. Reid is a FBI agent who writes poetry and letters in his free time."
"Is that you, Reid?" Emily questioned eagerly, sensing a story.
"Yeah," Spencer admitted, bending his head to avoid the amused smiles of his co-workers.
"That's great, Spence!" JJ congratulated. "I didn't know that you were a poet."
"He's a poet and we didn't even know it!" Emily laughed. Penelope waved the magazine in front of the screen.
"It's really good, Reid! How did you write such a great poem?"
"You know, poetry mostly relies on a pattern. All I needed to do was follow the pattern."
"Patterns don't create poetry of this level!" Penelope protested. "It has such heart and meaning to it."
"Well, my ... my mom and I used to read poetry ... we'd read poetry all the time ... together," Spencer explained quietly. The teasing smiles disappeared from his friends' faces. Sympathy blossomed instead as Spencer stumbled over the obviously emotional words. "I ... wrote that for her and entered it in the contest just ... just wondering if they would like it. I ... sent Mom the ... I got a winner's copy early, so I sent it to her for Valentine's as a gift - her poem and name there for the whole world to read, to know that I love her."
"Wow." Penelope finally broke the silence that had fallen. "You really are poetic, Boy Genius."
Spencer smiled. It really did not matter what the team thought - although he was happy that they were supportive. It did not matter what the magazine editors thought - although he was happy that they had chosen his poem as the winner. The only thing that mattered was what his mom thought - and her delight at his writing was all that mattered. Yes, he was a prize winning poet - the happy tears on the letter from his mom meant more than any medal or cheque ever could.
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