A/N: This is an attempt at something a bit more lighthearted than my usual fare. I'd had the idea for a while, but the episode 'The Performer' finally gave me the means to make it work. That said, there are minor spoilers here and there for the aforementioned episode. The song this piece is named for and featured herein is 'Asleep at the Wheel' by the Wallflowers. I would suggest listening to it while you read, but I suppose it isn't entirely necessary. (I will tell you it cannot be found on YouTube, but I'm sure you can stream it somewhere; Yahoo! Music, perhaps?)
I'll warn you now- this really isn't up to par with the rest of my work, but I figured it might be a fun little ditty anyway. Enjoy? *(Minor revisions to correct technical errors and a detail-oriented omission)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the show, characters, or song mentioned in the following story. Copies? Yes. Hard copy and digital, both. Rights? In my dreams.
Asleep at the Wheel
"Reid picked this place?"
Emily nodded.
"Our Reid?" Another nod. "Tall, skinny little guy with crutches and too much hair?"
"Alright, Morgan. We get it," Dave cut in before his colleague could get too carried away. "This particular establishment doesn't exactly scream 'Reid' to me, either, but he promised we wouldn't be disappointed. I, for one, am curious what the kid's got up his sleeve." There were murmurs of agreement all around as the members of the BAU took in the room they were seated in.
It was a small eatery none of them had heard of, settled on the edge of the city just out-of-the-way enough to not require a lengthy wait for a table but not so much that it was ever deserted. The atmosphere was almost intimate without toeing the romantic line, several tables and mismatched chairs placed closely together parallel to the long bar that ran the length of one wall and facing a small raised platform at the back boasting an "Open Mic Night". It was quaint and inviting, but definitely not their typical fare. The five FBI agents and their Technical Analyst couldn't help but wonder just how Reid had found this place when the young man hardly ever left his apartment except for work and the occasional visit to his mother.
"I just hope he doesn't think listening to strangers recite cheesy poetry and sing off-key wins him the bet. Didn't his friend, uh… Ethan? Wouldn't he have started playing in places like this?" With the exception of Hotch and Rossi- the latter of which could only make assumptions as to what his colleague was referring to- the others just nodded along.
"Did you really have to make that bet with him?" Hotch asked, turning to his newly appointed superior with mild disapproval. "I thought we were a team- he shouldn't feel he still has to prove himself to us."
Morgan merely laughed off his concern.
"Oh come on, man. It's all in fun, Reid knows that."
"You were mocking him."
"We were teasing him. Like usual. The kid went along with it, didn't he?"
Hotch shook his head, remembering how the conversation had devolved rapidly from light-hearted banter to derisive genius-baiting.
Reid looked around the jet in confusion while the others laughed at him. Yet again. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off as a smirking Morgan addressed the group at large.
"You know, I don't know what surprises me less- that Reid's never seen 'A Clockwork Orange', or that he actually prefers to listen to classical music…" More snickering followed while Reid's eyes narrowed at his friend.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think," Emily grinned, "it means Morgan's calling you predictable. I hate to say it, Reid, but I have to agree with him. Although I would have guessed Beethoven to be a little too mainstream for you. Something more like… Rachmaninoff, seems your style."
The laughs only got louder as they all nodded in agreement. Even JJ giggled a little, wincing as she held her injured head.
"I'm sorry, Spence," she piped up at seeing his expression, "but you have to admit that you're not exactly full of surprises. Textbooks and Dracula, sure, but why did I even bother to ask if you'd read Twilight?"
Rossi scrunched up his face in distaste. "Why would he? Isn't that for pre-adolescent girls and middle-aged housewives with no sense of shame?"
"Touché," JJ muttered.
Reid was stunned. 'Do they really think so little of me? After all these years, I'm still just a one-dimensional nerd to them. The epitome of the genius stereotype. Wonderful.' It took him a moment to get his mouth working again.
"You really think I'm that predictable? That I'm incapable of doing anything that would surprise you?"
"Aside from stupid things like putting yourself between an armed UnSub and the people trying to save your scrawny butt?" Morgan raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Kid, I'd bet good money you don't have anything up your sleeve that would so much as make our jaws drop."
"You're really that confident I'm so boring, let's see it."
"See what?" Morgan asked, completely thrown.
"The money. You said you'd 'bet good money' on it- let's see it."
Hotch shifted, not liking the direction the conversation was suddenly taking."Reid…" He started, tone full of warning.
"No, Hotch, it's fine. Really," Reid rushed to assure. "I want to do this. It's just a friendly bet between colleagues- no big deal."
"I have to say, pretty boy," Morgan drawled, pulling out his wallet, "I really wasn't expecting that. This bet may have potential. How does fifty bucks sound?"
Reid smiled and leaned back into the couch, making himself as comfortable as possible in the small space next to JJ's feet. "If you're willing to shell it out when the time comes, that's fine by me."
Spencer had spent the rest of the flight with his headphones firmly over his ears, iPod drowning out the lively chatter around him until Hotch put his foot down and insisted JJ get some rest. The next couple days passed quietly thanks to mountains of paperwork- the BAU learning the hard way that arresting a celebrity without utterly damning, rock-solid evidence is not kosher- and when the end to it all was finally in sight, Reid had suggested going out to dinner to unwind. It was unusual for him to initiate any plans outside of work- in fact, more often than not he had to be forced out the door and into their social outings, so no one was willing to pass up this rare opportunity. The twinkle in his eye as he'd promised they wouldn't be disappointed only sealed the deal.
Now, though, after waiting nearly half an hour for him they were starting to get slightly annoyed.
"Where is Reid, anyway? This was all his idea- shouldn't he be here by now?" JJ wondered aloud, looking at her watch for the third time. Morgan huffed and made a show of looking around the room.
"Seven o'clock, my as-"
"He said he needed to go home, first," Dave supplied, twirling the straw in his drink.
"Why would he-"
"Ooh- there he is!" Garcia announced happily. "Wow. Look at him. From G-Man to GQ… Looking snazzy, Dr. Reid!" Everyone laughed at the eccentric blonde, turning to look in the direction she was frantically waving only to fall silent in slack-jawed awe as the lanky young genius slowly crutched their way through the tight crowd of occupied tables.
He had indeed gone home before making his way to the restaurant, having changed out of his usual attire. Reid kept the black dress pants and his trusty high-tops, but instead of a print button down and gray sweater vest he was now clad in a white long-sleeved oxford shirt hanging open over a plain dark gray t-shirt. While it was not entirely different than his typical outfits, the effect a simple casual twist had on it was undeniable- and to top it off, he'd pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Even Morgan gave a low whistle at the drastically improved ensemble.
"Damn, Pretty Boy… I didn't know you had it in you. Very nice," he complimented his friend.
"Uh, thanks," Reid replied, clearly uncomfortable under his teammate's scrutiny as he stood next to his open chair.
"I agree. Wow," Emily put in. "This is… well honestly, Reid, this is a much better look for you- but did you really have to change just to go out with us?"
"Yes, I did. Morgan got ink all over my shirt, remember? And JJ and Garcia made it worse when they tried to clean it off."
"Sorry, handsome," Garcia laughed. "We never claimed to be very good at the domestic stuff. Now would you sit down, already?"
"Um, actually, I kind of need a hand with something first. I didn't really plan this out too well…" Both Hotch and Rossi made a move to stand up, but Dave was quicker.
"Sure, kiddo. Just tell me- what's with the ponytail?" They could plainly see Reid blush under the dim lights as he unconsciously tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
"It makes it easier," was all he replied before turning back in the direction he'd come. Dave shrugged at the perplexed profilers before following suit.
"Makes what easier?" Emily finally asked after a long moment of confused silence. There was no answer to be had, so they contented themselves with their drinks and appetizers in the minutes that followed.
It was the familiar sound of rubber on hardwood and the distinctive soft metal clicks a pair of crutches made that had five heads turning simultaneously toward the platform at the back where they got the second surprise of the night- Reid was making his way across the stage to settle on a small black stool while Dave set a guitar case next to his feet, helping to lower the microphone down to a more manageable level. After unloading a rather beat-up looking acoustic guitar and settling it on the genius's lap, he returned to his seat with a 'Don't look at me' expression, hands up to forestall the questions that were about to come flying his way.
"He didn't say anything. I have no idea what he's up to, but it looks like we're about to be treated to some live music entertainment."
"No way," JJ blurted out. "I love Spence, but he's not exactly coordinated enough to play an instrument."
"And the kid's got no sense of rhythm. Trust me," Morgan added.
"Give Reid a break," Hotch defended. "You don't know what he does in his spare time. You didn't think he had any sense of style, either."
"And boy were you wrong on that one!" Garcia beamed, eyes fixed up at her favorite walking library. Reid plucked a few strings and settled the guitar as comfortably as possible, clearing his throat to address the crowd.
"I, uh- I apologize in advance," he started with a shy smile, earning a few chuckles and a whistle or two. "I'm a little rusty, but my colleagues and I made a bet. I figured this was my best chance to win, so I hope you'll bear with me.
"This song is a favorite of mine, by the Wallflowers."
A hush fell over the room, the patrons waiting expectantly to hear what this man and his guitar had to offer. The melody was simple, slow, and undeniably pleasing to the ear as it filled the room.
"Do you ever stop to count all the invitations
At the end of the day when it comes down to one decision
Of dead beat girls and freaks at a peoples convention?
All these sugars with no vitamin sensation…"
Reid's singing voice was surprisingly low; the team would so often tease him for the way his voice could pitch so high as to squeak that they tended to overlook how deep it was the rest of the time. He really wasn't bad- not exactly good, either, but definitely easy to listen to. There was a certain… passion, in the way he sang the words that was almost mesmerizing.
"Asleep at the wheel, no windshield
But you know that the streets here don't change."
The sincerity of his performance had the audience enthralled with every word, every twang and chord echoing off the wood-panel walls. He was telling a story, one full of lament and sorrow and a poetry that flowed over and through them as it unfolded. It was a fairly lengthy song, yet the minutes seemed to pass quickly and soon enough they'd reached the end.
Reid deftly plucked the last few notes and stilled, letting them reverberate through the room and fade. No one moved or made a sound for several long seconds and he kept his head down, refusing to look at anyone until an enthusiastic round of applause broke the spell, one table in particular erupting with cheers and whistles. Spencer's cheeks flushed a deep pink as he stared at his rowdy teammates, all but one standing and clapping with far more vigor than he felt necessary- even Hotch, who fairly beamed with pride as he glanced between his youngest subordinate and their acting Unit Chief sitting slack in his seat. If he weren't so embarrassed by the attention, Reid would have laughed at the way Morgan's jaw was hanging nearly to the floor, eyes wide and clearly stunned.
'So worth it,' he thought, sitting up a little straighter.
"Um, th-thank you," he managed to stutter out. "I, uh… well, from the looks of things I think it's safe to say I won that bet." That got a few chuckles. "Thank you for being so patient while I, um, thoroughly embarrassed myself. And Morgan? Close your mouth- you're catching flies, man."
With that, he carefully leaned over to swap out the musical instrument for his crutches, watching with immense relief as Dave made his way back through the laughing patrons to help him back to their colleagues.
Rossi stashed the case under the table for the time being and pulled out Reid's chair with a flourish, Hotch grabbing the crutches for him and placing them against the wall, out of the way, while everyone whooped and congratulated the flustered PhD.
"Wow, Reid," Emily gushed, smiling widely. "Just… wow."
"Yeah, Reid, I didn't know you had it in you. You should share with the class more often!" Garcia enthused. JJ nodded her head vigorously in agreement, reaching over to give his shoulder a little shake.
"I'm impressed, Reid. Smart, handsome, and talented- what more could a girl want?" she said with a smirk and a wink. Reid slouched down in his seat as far as he could, wishing he had his hair to hide behind, at least. He had never really cared to be the center of attention in any capacity, in spite of how often his mouth tended to make him just that, so while it was nice to be surrounded by so much joy and positivity on his behalf Reid found he wouldn't mind if the ground opened up and swallowed him before his flaming cheeks actually caught fire. It wasn't until Morgan reached across the table and slapped down two fifty dollar bills that the profilers finally quieted down, all eyes drawn to him in surprise.
"I thought the bet was only fifty?" Garcia asked, eyebrows up to her hairline. Emily blinked and squinted at her.
"Only fifty?"
"It was," Reid piped up, staring steadfastly at Morgan who seemed to have suddenly found the tablecloth very interesting. "The bet was only fifty, Morgan. What's this?"
"What does it look like?"
"Too much!"
"Not enough, actually, but it's all I got on me."
"Not enough?" Dave parroted in disbelief. "What'd I miss?"
Morgan squirmed a little in his chair, the faintest hint of a blush gracing his own dark skin.
"Well, that wasn't just one surprise, right? I mean, look at him; the kid's actually got style, he plays an instrument- pretty well, even- and he did it in front of a bunch of strangers. Hell of a triple threat, and it goes beyond our original agreement. How about I owe you dinner, too?"
It was Reid's turn to gape, brown eyes comically wide as it slowly dawned on him his friend was completely serious. Quite frankly, he was floored, and a little unsure as to how to handle this curveball. 'I guess he really did think that little of me. Maybe I should just take the money and run. He'd deserve it- wouldn't he…?
'Pft, he might, but you're better than that.
'Unfortunately.'
"Um, how about… how about the fifty like we agreed, and you stop underestimating me?" Morgan had the decency to look sheepish at the suggestion, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.
"I think I can manage that," he agreed. "You really don't have to take pity on me though, kid. You're right- we shouldn't underestimate you like that. After so many years, you'd think we'd know better. Anything else I can do? Give you a ride home, maybe?"
"That would be great. And I still haven't had dinner…" Reid trailed off, grinning. He'd only meant to tease, but Hotch raised an eyebrow and gave him a look.
"No, you haven't. Order something, and we'll take care of it."
"No," Emily sighed, "we'll take care of it. You had nothing to do with this. We were the ones teasing him."
"That you were," Dave said. "Why not throw in dessert, while you're at it?" Garcia perked up.
"Dessert? Ooh, I want dessert. What do you say, Hot Stuff?"
"I say you don't need dessert, Princess. You're sweet enough as it is."
"Ha! You could just say you're a cheapskate and save the flattery… true though it is."
The playful banter back and forth continued while Reid ordered and enjoyed his meal, everyone joining in and keeping the mood light. Truth be told, Morgan, Emily, and JJ now felt incredibly guilty for facilitating the events that led to such a ridiculous and insulting bet. Dr. Reid blew their minds on a daily basis, was an important fixture in the team and in their lives, and yet they had been callous enough to make him feel the need to prove himself all over again.
Thankfully, now that the whole thing was over and they were relaxed and having a good time, Reid didn't seem to mind so much. He ordered his dessert and shared it with Garcia, tossing a few barbs Morgan's way when they opportunity arose, and he looked more at ease than he had in… months. In fact, they all did. This was a much needed reprieve for the overworked, overstressed, overtired and overanxious agents- and it was all thanks to a stupid bet.
Dave smiled a little to himself as a rousing discussion over how Reid had managed to cart the guitar there in the first place- "Trust me, you don't want to know. I will point out, though, that it does not take me that ong to change…"- died away to be replaced with a comfortable silence. He wouldn't put it past the shrewd young man to have planned this whole outing as both a means to prove his point and a cunning way to get them out of the office to have a good time.
'Smart kid. Maybe I ought to learn to give him a little more credit, too…'
It was in the middle of a young woman's drunken, warbling rendition of 'Wild Horses' when Emily cleared her throat and leaned toward Reid, finally asking the question that had been on everyone's mind for most of the evening.
"So, Reid- where'd you learn to play, anyway?"
Spencer licked the last bit of chocolate off his spoon and sat back with a mischievous smile.
"I could tell you, but it depends…"
"On what?" The smile got a little wider, but it seemed a bit forced and there was a look in his eye that they couldn't identify.
"On whether you can handle any more surprises, tonight."
A/N 1: An odd ending, yes, but I felt that this was a good place to do so. You have your feel-good moment, but it's open-ended so everyone can be happy. Make up whatever interesting/fun/silly/sad/shocking story you want- heck, publish it for all I care. (Oh, to be such and inspiration... ^.~ ) I've an idea where I would go, if anyone wanted it, but I'll warn you now it's gonna' be angsty. (Big surprise, right?)
A/N 2: Now that this is out of my system, I will try to focus my attention once more on 'Emotions, Amplified'. I've a poll in my profile for anyone who has an opinion on what I should work on after, but I will admit to having one more one-shot idea rattling around.