Tongue Tied
Disclaimer: I am currently waiting for Hell to freeze over. (-_-)
Pairing: Hotch/Prentiss, HP.
Genres: Humour/Romance.
Rating: 14 Advanced: due to minor language and suggestive themes.
Spoilers: Post season five.
Summary: Often times we just can't find the right words.
Dedication: In memory of all the embarrassing slip-ups I continue to emit at the worst possible times.
Author's Comment: So yeah, here we go again, yet another dose of one shot-y goodness for your entertainment although this time, it involves a minimal amount of smuttiness. How unfortunate, I understand.
Chapter I. Pretty Persuasion
"I have with me two Gods: Persuasion and Compulsion."
~ Themistocles
"No way, Reid." I repeat myself for what feels like the hundredth time this morning. "I'm sorry but I just can't."
The young genius looks crestfallen, which, if it wasn't such an amusing expression on Reid, I would have felt guilty for.
"But Emily it's only in town this weekend," he tries again in vain, not willing to give up so easily it seems. "And you said yourself that you would go with me!"
Oy, I did say that didn't I? Although, in fairness, I made that promise weeks ago, as in before Reid had been able to find out the dates and times; I really hadn't thought that the time that the one weekend I made plans for was the single weekend that the book signing would be on. You see the team and I had been coming back home from a recent case and I noticed some new book that Reid was zipping right through, a book that I had recently wrapped up myself. Naturally I had asked Reid how he was enjoying the book, which was a big mistake might I add, since it ended up leading to a discussion on statistics where I mostly sat there and wondered just how Reid's brain doesn't explode from containing that much information.
Anyway, Reid had professed to really enjoying the entire series of books, something that had pleased the bookworm in me very much so because I was an avid fan of the author too. In fact, I was so pleased that I informed the young genius that I heard a rumor that the author was coming to Virginia for a book signing sometime in the upcoming month and that we should go, heck, we could make a whole afternoon out of it! I realize now that was probably the first sign that something was going to go haywire. Not that I don't love Reid, because I definitely do, I just don't think that anyone can handle so much...Reid-ness, especially for a whole afternoon. And I say that with all the love and kindness in the world.
"You know I would go with if I didn't have this brunch with my mother Sunday. You said that it's all weekend so why don't we go Saturday?"
Did I just say "brunch with my mother"?
Funny, I could have sworn that I said "with my boyfriend" instead.
Must have been a failure to communicate.
"But I have other plans for Saturday." Reid states, still trying to persuade me with that beaten puppy look he has down pat. I can feel myself caving to it, damn that floppy hair and those boyish brown eyes; it isn't fair, damn it!
Across the bullpen, Morgan swivels around in his chair and looks about as surprised as I'm sure I did when I heard Reid say he had other plans.
"Comic-Con, Reid?" He asks half-sarcastically whilst tossing his foam football at me. I catch it with my left hand, my other one preoccupied with my mug of coffee. "Nice one, Princess."
I roll my eyes, chuck it back to him and take a nice, long sip from my delicious, delicious coffee.
"Actually, Virginia's Comic-Con is in August," the prodigy SSA points out as he clicks on to what looks like a website detailing the event. From where I'm sitting I can see comic drawings of famous characters as well as pictures of fans dressed head to toe in costume. Now I finally understand why JJ had refused to attend with Reid, it didn't really look like my—or anyone on this team, with the obvious exception of Reid—scene.
"So what are you plans then Reid?" Our dark friend asks, throwing the football up in the air and catching it with the opposite hand, his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his chair and practically rocking on the hind legs. "Trekkie convention, Mensa meeting, or curing cancer?"
A short spiel about cancer research follows and I want to pity Morgan—I really do—but he walked right into that one and now he's living to regret it. Laughing under my breath, apparently loud enough to be heard though, I manage to just dodge the foam football that is spiraling towards my head and then catch it before it hits the ground. I look up to see that Reid is now distracted from trying to coerce me into attending the book signing with his one-sided conversation with Morgan and sneak a peek up the stairs that lead to my boss' office. Through the blinds I can see the profile of Hotch who is currently bent over his desk, which is, without a doubt, covered with a mess of case files and paperwork. Now if it were up to me then he wouldn't be spending so much time in that office, mulling over crime scene photos and profiles from decades ago but I know that it is a part of him just as much as the casual side and that he can't have one without the other.
Shit!
I've been made.
Oh great, he's smiling that stupidly sweet dimpled smile of his.
Busted.
Fabulous, now I have to bite back my own.
Stupid, super cute Hotch is using those damn dimples against me.
"Come on, Emily," Reid starts up again succeeding in stealing my attention away from our boss. "Your mother is a reasonable woman so she would understand if you called to reschedule."
Of course by this point Reid is fully aware of the fact that I'm not bending—I rather pride my ability to say "no"—but I guess he figures "no harm, no foul" and is trying his luck anyway. The thing is that if I actually were to be having brunch with my mother I most likely would try to reschedule for Reid, however, the fact of the matter is that I'm not going to brunch, spending the afternoon in a gorgeously posh home, and reminiscing while trying to keep up that whole "no serious talk about the job" deal mother and I made a while back. Instead I am going to be spending a whole glorious Sunday sleeping in, making breakfast, hitting the town, and barbequing in the backyard. No way am I going to take a rain check.
"I'm sorry but I'll make it up to you."
I'm not quite certain how but I'll find a way, probably by inserting my foot in my mouth.
"Hey, didn't you say that Comic-Con is in August?"
Foot meet my big fat mouth, big fat mouth meet my foot.
"You'll go with me?" An expression of child-like excitement takes over Reid's face and I can't let him down twice in the time span of ten minutes because that would just crush him so I face the music, nod and pretend to smile. It seems to have worked since Reid is glowing and Morgan is cracking up. I shoot him a murderous glare and take an extra long slurp from my coffee, needing the fuel.
"What are your plans for Saturday, anyway?" I hear Morgan ask, his voice curious. He's almost as awful a gossip as Garcia and Rossi. "You never did say."
I guess I'm a little interested too, seeing as it is keeping me from attending the book signing as well, so I sit up and listen to Reid awkwardly stumble on his answer. He seems kind of odd with this line of questioning which isn't really common for Reid unless the subject is personal, in which case he can be reduced to a word jumbling mess.
"Well, uhm, I have, I mean I'm going—"
I'm sure it's bad to think that Reid is adorable stumbling all over his words but I don't really care, after all it's such a sweet look on him.
"Spit it out, Kid." Morgan presses, the universal way of encouraging someone who's faltering to get his or her point across.
I don't think Reid has caught on to that yet since he looks more frustrated. Poor thing.
"I'm going to an art exhibit."
That was it?
"Do you even like art?"
I only ask because it seems so un-Reid of him, seeing how art is something that is always up for interpretation and Reid is a very black or white, lives for the facts, scientist kind of guy. Sure, it's cultural and historic and would probably be rather interesting for Reid's brilliant mind to dissect but I still find it hard to believe that Reid would spend his free time at some art expo.
"Visual arts are actually—"
Blah blah blah "originally people thought" blah blah blah blah blah "there are theories that" blah blah blah blah "it has been noted" blah blah blah blah blah blah.
A new voice enters the conversation and I blink back to life, shaking off my blanking out with a slurp of coffee and a thoughtful expression in Morgan's direction as the aforementioned man asks; "so are you going with someone?"
"Yes."
Back it up!
An instant bolt of who-what-where-when-why shocks my spine because I can't help but be happy that Reid is reaching out of our little BAU family and into the world, you know, the one that doesn't have homicide, rape, and arson on the mind 24/7. This is wonderful news.
"Wait a minute," Morgan states, acting as if this is more shocking than what I originally thought. "You mean like a date?"
"I guess you could consider it that."
Leave it to Reid to sound so indifferent, as if it is an everyday occurrence, and still be confused when Derek chokes on his coffee in surprise.
"With a female?"
I watch in amusement as Derek wipes his mouth and Reid wears an expression between confused and affronted, like him seeing a woman—who isn't a friend—outside of the work realm is that unrealistic.
"Her name is Evangeline, which is Greek in origin and means 'good news' or 'bearer of good news'." Reid offers, believing that Morgan actually needs proof. "But she likes being called Evan for short."
Distracting myself from the conversation I dash my signature across the bottom of a file on my desk, flip the pages randomly, cursive write my name again and then shut the folder purposefully. I sigh and mumble "finally", rub the back of my neck and drop my pen deliberately.
"Tired there, Prentiss?" Morgan queries, recovering from his shock.
"Exhausted," I lie blatantly and get away with it too. "Have I ever told you guys how much I hate paperwork?"
Morgan lifts his mug in mock cheer and exclaims "hallelujah" as I grin, shake my head, and head up the stairs that will take me to my boss' office.
The door clicks shut behind me when I use the back of my heel to close it.
He looks up from his multiple case folders, his ever-present poker face in place, and I fight the urge to smile like a maniac.
"Can I do anything for you, Agent Prentiss?"
I crack. I can feel it. I'm smiling, Goddamnit.
"Yes," I reply playfully whilst sliding the folder I brought with me across his desk. "Look over this for me, please. I'd like a consult on this case."
Then, just like I planned, I spin on a heel and get the Hell out of his office, leaving him stunned behind me.
One of the many important factors of being in a position of authority is having the ability of knowing how to speak to people.
Of course that depends entirely on who you are speaking to, the subject that you are talking about, the environment in which the conversation is happening, as well as being educated in your discussion. Fortunately for me, I had been a lawyer it what I like to consider a past life and an important part of being a lawyer involved convincing, debating, explaining and persuading people such as clients, judges, fellow lawyers, as well as jurors. This is one of the reasons why I well in my field, because I know what I want and how to talk people into giving it to me. It is a skill that constantly finds purpose, used during scenarios ranging from negotiations involving Unsubs that are holding hostages to business meetings with unimpressed superiors; even stemming into more personal situations like when I need to get out of going somewhere that I don't want to go or bargaining with my son Jack.
Unfortunately, no one had prepared me for the likes of one Emily Prentiss.
Suddenly my knack for talking people in and out of situations paled in comparison to Emily's native tongue of politics, something that she had picked up from her long lost childhood. It never ceases to amaze me just how well Emily can turn argumentative into a superpower, making her capable of talking just about anyone into the palm of her hand whilst remaining totally immune to my own persuasion and if I weren't a bigger man than that, I may have been upset over the fact that she is impervious to my influence. That is, until, I experience a moment of dawning realization. Ah! It's just so simple that I can't help but wonder why I hadn't noticed it all along. I chastise myself, amused by my obliviousness, as I tuck my brand new tactic up my sleeve, patiently waiting a chance to put into play. And everyone thinks that Reid is the genius of the team? Okay, so I can't read War & Peace in one sitting, I don't have an eidetic memory, and I wasn't a twelve year old freshman but this is sheer brilliance if I dare say so myself and I am going to have fun with it.
There is a bright yellow sticky note stuck to the inside of the folder flap and somehow I manage to repress a smile.
Take the long way.
How can I refuse a proposition like that?
Folding and tucking her note in the breast pocket of my suit, I do a double take of my watch and decide to wait a few minutes despite my excitement. Oh yeah, is she ever going to be surprised.
Author's Note: First chapter in this mini multi-chapter story is complete! Be on the look out for upcoming stuff :D.
With Love, CSIAly