A/N: This story is written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010 – Round 3 – Dealer's Choice Challenge.
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Items: Woman's underwear catalog / Patrón (fine tequila) / (Los) Angeles National Forest
It was only after I saw the notice on the forum that JWynn had passed away, that I discovered this prompt was her suggestion. This is in her memory.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Criminal Minds.
Normally the BAU bullpen was a bustling hub of agents discussing cases, telephones ringing, superiors issuing commands and the general chatter of a busy workplace. At seven-thirty in the morning however, the day's cacophony had not yet begun.
Taking advantage of the current quiet, Spencer Reid sat at his desk, exuding an intense stillness that practically guaranteed he was deep in concentration over something he deemed to be of grave importance.
He had deliberately arrived at work an hour earlier than his usual time to give himself these few moments of solitude. The task he had to accomplish was one he normally kept very private. He would not even consider doing it now, and certainly not here, but because of a month of back to back cases, it was way overdue and could no longer be put off.
Spencer was flipping through what at first glance looked like a magazine. Contrary to his usual method, he wasn't running one arched index finger rapidly down each page, automatically absorbing the information he scanned. Instead, he deliberated over each page, reviewing the items presented with a careful, critical eye. Every now and then, he marked off an item on one of the pages with a pencil he held poised over the pages as he turned them.
He had been at it for almost forty-five minutes now and was hoping to be done before anyone else arrived. Had he not been so absorbed in his task, he would have noticed Morgan saunter into the bullpen and make his way over to the small cluster of desks which included his own, as well as Reid's and Prentiss'.
"Hey kid, you're in early."
To his credit, Spencer only jumped slightly at the sound of Morgan's voice just over his shoulder. Unfortunately, it was more than enough to dislodge the magazine from its position on his lap. As it slid to the floor, Reid made a quick grab for it, but Morgan got there first.
"I got it man." Straightening up, Morgan went to return the booklet to Reid, when he noticed the front cover and along with it, the name. A slow, teasing smirk made its way across his face.
With a mocking lift of one eyebrow accompanying the smirk, Morgan looked at Reid, "'Just Necessities – the best in women's underwear'?"
As Reid grabbed for the catalog, Morgan held it just out of reach and continued, still grinning, "Something you want to tell me, kid?"
"Gimme that, Morgan." Another futile swipe for the catalog and Reid was becoming noticeably irritated. His brow twisted and he seemed almost prepared to tackle Morgan physically.
"Morgan. Reid." Hotch's voice from the catwalk behind them distracted Morgan for just the few seconds it took for Reid to tear the catalog from Morgan's grasp and hurriedly stuff it into his messenger bag. He quickly stowed the bag under the desk as Hotch spoke again.
"Conference room now, please. LA has a situation. Prentiss in yet?"
Morgan gestured over his shoulder to where Emily Prentiss was just walking through the BAU's glass doors.
Hotch nodded and turned away, lifting his phone to his ear as he did.
Morgan turned back to Reid, who was gathering his notebook and a couple of pencils. With the remnants of the smirk still on his face, he spoke softly enough that Prentiss wouldn't hear, "This is not over!"
Not waiting for a response, he strode away to inform Prentiss of Hotch's instructions. Together, the two then headed for the conference room.
Had he stayed a moment longer, Morgan would have been stunned to hear the normally unflappable Spencer Reid mutter viciously, "The hell it isn't!"
Twenty minutes later, the entire team – including Garcia – left the briefing to make their way to the airport. They were wheels up in thirty minutes. They were headed to Angeles National Forest, where a group of volunteers working on trail maintenance had discovered human remains. Once authorities had been summoned and had begun processing the scene, a further six bodies had been located, all buried in a similar fashion, each grave containing an empty bottle of Patrón Silver tequila. Suspecting a serial killer's dumping ground, albeit a serial killer with expensive tastes, the BAU had been urgently called in to assist.
As he slung his go-bag over his shoulder, Morgan addressed Reid who had just bent to retrieve his bag from under his desk, "So … about that mag…"
He never got to finish, as Spencer rose, swung around to face him and snapped, "Leave it, Morgan! I'm not discussing it … now or ever!"
Surprised by the intense anger suffusing Reid's face, Morgan raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, and took a couple of steps backward.
"All right, all right … I'm just playin'."
Looking closer, Morgan thought he saw a different emotion in his teammate's face. Recognizing it for something very close to anguish, he lowered his voice even further, "Hey Reid … you okay?"
"Leave it, Morgan … please … just leave it." The monotone of Reid's voice didn't quite match the look in his eyes, but it was that look which made Morgan nod and back off. He headed for the door, throwing only a single look back at the young genius.
Spencer watched him go for a few seconds. With a small sigh, he bent down and picked up the messenger bag from under his desk. Opening it to slip in his notebook and the LA case file, he tapped the protruding edge of the women's underwear catalog thoughtfully, and with regret. His task would have to await completion until this case was over. Though he hated delaying for the extra days, there was really no choice.
As he slung the bag across his chest and headed out of the bullpen, Spencer Reid's thoughts were on his unfinished task. He had been buying his mother's clothes, including her underwear, even before she ever entered Bennington Sanitarium; since he was sixteen, in fact.
Financially, it had gotten much easier over the intervening years. Emotionally, it had only become harder. Yet, once she had entered Bennington, he had continued to buy her clothes himself, though he could have turned the job over to her caretakers. He had never been able to take them to her himself, however, always having them delivered instead. Still, the part he did do was a duty he did not think it right to relinquish to anyone else.
After all, he thought regretfully, and not for the first time either, it wasn't as though he could just take her shopping.
FIN
