Hello again. I've had some requests for a "follow-up" to Reid's little experience with the exploding coffeemaker (from "Caffeine Fix)--here is the end result. If you look closely, you'll find sly references to a couple of my other short fics--can you find them all :)

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Nor is the horrific day I'm about to present... :)

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There was no coffee.

Not a drop. Not an ounce. Not even the tiniest particle of coffee bean anywhere to be had. Not that it would matter anyway, considering the coffeepot had exploded in front of Reid the second he'd tried to sneak a cup from the ancient machine.

After picking up the broken glass and dusting the wet grounds off of his now-stained clothes, the young profiler stoically went back to his desk.

It's just coffee,he thought. It's not like I can't last one day without it…

Three hours had gone by. Reid sat at his desk, going over the forty-seven case files someone had "accidentally" left on his desk.

You know, you'd think I'd pick up on it eventually, Reid thought. One of these days I'm going to have to "drop" some particularly difficult files on Morgan and Prentiss. At least they leave me relatively easy ones.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Immediately Reid reached for his cell, only to realize that it was his office phone that was going off.

"Hello?"

"Is this Dr. Spencer Reid?" the voice asked on the other end of the line.

"Yes…"

"This is the payroll and accounting office."

There's something wrong with my check? the young man thought.

"Dr. Reid?"

"Yes, I'm still here…is there a problem?"

"No, nothing like that. We're calling in regards to that SUV that got totaled a few weeks ago…"

I knew it! They are taking it out of my check!

"…and so we have to notify you of any garnishments or company deductions from your paycheck. Any questions?"

"Um…how much is it?"

"Again, that's $175 per check for the next ten months. Have a good day."

Reid hung up the phone.Great, he thought as he went back to his case files. What else could go wrong today?

Another two hours went by. The front of Reid's shirt was stiff from dried coffee and unrinsed soap still attached to it. Garcia had tried to wash it out the best she could, but it still wasn't 100 percent.

He could finally see the bottom of his desk. It hasn't collapsed under the weight of all this work, he thought. I might just be able to go home before midnight...

He glanced over at his colleagues, both of whom were hard at work on their own caseloads. At least they didn't get out of all the work, Reid thought, a small smile creeping over his face. I could really go for some coffee, though…

He got up and stretched out his long limbs. "I'm going for coffee," he announced to his teammates. "Anyone want some?"

Morgan looked at Prentiss. Prentiss looked at Morgan. Then they both looked at their young colleague.

"You don't know?" Morgan asked.

"Know what?"

"The coffee machine downstairs is closed up. Guy had to take a personal day—funeral or something. There's no coffee."

The term "deer in headlights" would have been perfect to describe Reid's face. "No coffee?" he said in a small squeak.

"Not since you broke the coffeepot," said Prentiss. "Good job on that, by the way."

Deflated, Reid sat back down. He could have gone out of the building for coffee, but that meant he'd have to drive, and he took the subway in that morning. There wasn't an agent in all of Quantico that would let him get behind that wheel of their car—not after that incident with Morgan in the middle of an Oregon woods. It had only taken a week for that little tale to spread…

Just then the phone rang.

"Yes?" Reid answered.

"Dr. Spencer Reid?"

Oh, no, Reid thought. Don't tell me they're raising my payment from payroll…

"Yes?" he answered hesitantly.

"Dr. Reid, we've been trying to reach you all afternoon. It's about your apartment…"

Oh, God. What now

"What…what about my apartment?" He noticed Morgan look up from his paperwork, curious as to what could have made the young man's voice raise two octaves.

"Dr. Reid, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your building was destroyed in a fire around noon. The fire department has yet to go through the inside of the remains, but the contents of four units were completely gutted—there's nothing left."

Reid nearly dropped the phone. "No—nothing left? Nothing at all?" That last word came out as an ear-splitting shriek.

"I'm sorry, doctor. We can have a report sent out to your insurance company—you did have renter's insurance, right?"

Reid affirmed that yes, he did have renter's insurance. "Was anyone hurt?" he asked in a more collected voice.

"No, thankfully, no one was hurt. Seems most folks were working, thank God. We'll find out what the cause was. Again, sorry to have to tell you this, and on a Friday no less…"

Reid thanked the man and hung up. He looked at his clothes—the coffee and soap filled shirt, the crackling pants, the lavender tie with coffee doused over the front of it. The only clothes I own outside of my ready bag and they're filthy, he thought.

"You all right, kid?" asked Morgan, still looking at his friend since he'd hung up the phone.

"Ah, y-yeah," Reid stuttered a bit. "It's just…well, my apartment burned down earlier today."

That got Prentiss's attention.

"Oh my God," she said. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, no, no one was hurt," Reid assured her. "But my apartment and three others were completely destroyed. They tell me there's nothing left."

"You have somewhere to go?" Morgan asked.

Reid honestly hadn't thought about it. "I…I guess I can always take a room somewhere, or sack out in the round-table room for a while," he said softly. I really don't want to put anyone on the spot…

"Un-uh. You're coming home with me," said Morgan. "And before you tell me 'no,' I'm not going to hear it. All right?"

Once Morgan makes his mind up, there's usually no changing it, Reid thought, though he was grateful for the offer. "O-okay. Thanks."

"Is there anything else we can do?" Prentiss asked him.

Reid looked at his desk. He still had eight more files left, and they were all due by morning.

He finally handed his credit card over to his raven-haired colleague. "Go out and get me some new clothes?" he asked. "And three gallons of whatever Starbucks has on sale?"