eepitsme: Wow, could you stop using such big words across the TWs? lol
He chuckled and typed back, "I would but where would the fun be in that?" After refreshing the page, he saw she'd both replied and played her word. "Valentines" stretched across a trio of double-letter, triple-letter, and triple-word squares. Her score went up by twenty-one points.
eepitsme: HA! Take THAT! LOL
gunshow: Quite impressive! :) Thought you were bad at this?
eepitsme: I suppose not. :p do you realise we've been talking for over three months now?
gunshow: Wow, I hadn't thought of that. That would explain why it's hard to go a day without talking to you. I think I actually might like you a lot more than I thought I could, even though I've never even found out anything about you, besides the fact you're a female.
eepitsme: What would you wanna know?
gunshow: I know this seems creepy, considering we're conversing over a game of Words with Friends, but um…would you wanna meet up? For lunch or something?
eepitsme: Make it dinner and you've got a date :)
gunshow: How will I know it's you?
eepitsme: Blonde. And I'll be wearing a blue jacket with a lightning bolt patch on the sleeve.
gunshow: Do you have plans for Valentine's Day?
eepitsme: Nope! Gonna be sitting at home all alone.
After deciding on dinner Tuesday night, he shut down his computer and decided upon making a quick meal for himself. The clock on the microwave read 12:26. This was usually the case when playing the online game with the person who had started out as merely a random opponent. His lips lifted upwards into a small grin when he felt the proverbial butterflies in his stomach. Maybe, just maybe, this Valentine's Day would be different than the others. Now all he had to do was get through the next three days, nineteen hours, and four minutes without making anybody finding out about his date. He knew Garcia would most likely spazz out and demand details. JJ and Emily would give him those knowing smiles and giving advice they believed would be helpful – if he didn't know their hearts were in the right place, it would have become more annoying than it was. Hotch and Rossi wouldn't have much to say about it, other than possibly a "Go get 'em, kid." Morgan, oh, Lord, he could already see Morgan's reaction: "Way to go, Pretty Boy. Now, here's what you need to do to keep her interested…" or "Be suave, cool..." or perhaps – worst of all – "How the Hell did you manage to catch a date, Pretty Boy?" He knew Morgan was the closest thing to a brother that he'd ever had or ever would have, but along with the role of "older brother" came the aggravating qualities. He shook his head and put his dishes in the sink, before heading to bed.
Unfortunately, the fact that he had a date had somehow managed to be weaseled out of him not even two hours after he had arrived at work the next morning. It hadn't spread around the office, as he'd expected; he should've known JJ wouldn't spill the beans about him. Not like that. Although he was right in the fact that she would give guidance that he honestly didn't need. He'd gone on plenty of dates that had turned out successful, little to their knowledge. The team, though only a tight-knit group of friends, had definitely become family throughout the years, and the characteristics the collection showed, was more than proof of that fact.
He glanced at the clock for what seemed like the millionth time in the past three hours. It was no closer to quitting time. A small groan escaped him. The previous two days had been filled with no cases, just paperwork. Of course, he was already done. Emily had merely given him a confusing glance along with a small stack of manila folders after he almost quite literally begged for more work; persuading Morgan to do so had been a breeze. The older man was more than willing to pass over such tedious tasks. Finally, Hotch called down to bullpen for them to go home; they all rose to their feet and sped from the office without a backwards glance.
His heart began pounding faster and faster as he walked down the street to the little café that had assured him that they would certainly have room enough for two more patrons. He pulled open the door and glanced around quickly, looking for his mystery date. He didn't have to look for long, for he heard,
"Reid?"
And there, with blonde hair spilling around her shoulders in large curls and the blue jacket with a lightning bolt patch on the sleeve, her glasses reflecting the soft overhead lights while a smile spread across her glossy red lips, though her face still wore a shocked expression, sat Penelope Garcia.
