A/N: Why hello, fiction-readers! This is something I've had floating around on my computer for...well, about a year and a half by now, I suppose. Just a short little one-shot about how Reid got himself back out into the field after being shot in the knee. Prompt is from Kavi Leighanna and sienna27's TV Prompt Forum, check it out, there's some pretty good prompt sets there.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
THE EDUCATION OF DR. REID
Prompt: LMFAO (The L Word)
In the time that Reid was forced to spend in Garcia's lair while he wasn't cleared for field work, he was learning what Garcia's time was like when she wasn't madly searching for some tidbit of highly relevant and irritatingly hard to find information for the team. Most of it was spent by her reading webcomics, playing online RPGs, or chatting online with people who he most likely didn't know, or for that matter, want to know. Having no interest in her present conversation with someone who seemed to be a fellow hacker, he had decided, ever the intellectual, to read one of the many books he had brought with him to read after realizing that Garcia would not interrupt her scheduled tomfoolery simply to entertain the grounded boy genius. His attention, however, was soon diverted from 13th Century Chinese Herbal Remedies when Garcia let out a loud guffaw, twirling contentedly on her swivel chair (which, he noted, looked very unstable after a presumed many such instances). He peered slowly over the top of the leather bound, ancient looking text book, and, blinking once or twice, gaped openly at the screen. He was at a loss. For the immense amount of knowledge he possessed, he could think of no language which held any of these words, if they were that. He quickly scanned his mental databases for 'roflcopter', 'ftw' and 'lol' (lawl?) before coming up blank. Shocked as he was, he was still able to dimly recognize the strange grouping of letters that seemed to form the non-word 'lmfao' (lumfow?) that appeared on the screen, each letter being preceded by a split second by a clack, meaning that it was, in fact, Garcia typing.
"Garcia…" he began cautiously, "I'm pretty sure that 'lumfow' isn't a word." Her rapid typing stopped momentarily, and she gawked conspicuously at him before her expression morphed into one of pure glee.
"Dr. Reid, for all of your immensely impressive braininess, there still exist a distant realm of the word that you are obviously not privy to. Besides," she sniffed, mocking offense, "it is NOT a word. It's an acronym, kiddie cop. It stands for laughing my f-" she paused, obviously censoring her words, "frickin' ass off."
Reid gazed pensively at her computer screen, trying to will the world into making sense again. "Did you know that swearing doesn't actually degrade the human psyche? Instead, it provides a sense of thrill at doing something forbidden, which is better channelled through offensive language than breaking the…" The slight raise of Garcia's eyebrow was enough for Reid to mutter a slightly embarrassed sorry and gesture for Garcia to continue.
"Let me explain this in a way you'll understand. You represent the near 0.01% of the American population who does not know about this stuff, while I am the 99.99% who has hour long conversations about the epic awesomeness that is WoW while you read…" she spared barely a glance at Reid's book before dismissing it. "…that."
"What's WoW?"
She sighed, exasperated. "Exactly. Sugar bear, you might have been better suited to living in the 1950's with your technological know-how. You are in serious need of an education in all things internet, and I am just the person to give it to you!"
Garcia turned back to her bank of computers, her chair creaking ominously.
"No, seriously, what's WoW?"
His befuddled question was ignored by the BAU's resident techie as she signed off of something called 'IM,' saved her page on her webcomics and logged off of World of Warcraft. Then, with a cackle Reid was sure that he must have imagined, her fingers they danced across the keyboard, creating a rather irritating melody that consisted of 'clickity-clickity-clickity-CLACK' that held no rhythm or tonal variation. Every time he tried to see exactly what she working on, Garcia blocked the screen from his view with uncanny accuracy. Eventually he gave up and went back to his book, but not without a deep sense of dread. An hour and half and 173 ancient herbal remedies later, Reid heard the melodious cacophony of the printer starting up. He ignored it and kept reading until Garcia plopped a very thick binder on his lap, narrowly avoiding his injured knee. After silently thanking a likely non-existent diety, he looked up at her inquisitively.
"What's this?"
"This, Tiny Tim, is your dictionary of all things internet, including chat-speak, or IM lingo. From now, we shall communicate only through the wonder that is my domain. We shall communicate via computer -" She reverently set a laptop on top of the binder "- using this sacred non-spoken tongue. Capisce?"
"Not to be too obvious in exposing my confusion, but, um, why?"
Garcia stared patronizingly. "You need to learn this, sugar. I am ashamed to admit that I did not notice your ignorance sooner, that is my fault. But I cannot be in your company unless you know about the wonders of the internet. Oh no, don't worry!" she exclaimed at his look of dismay. "It'll be fun!"
At Reid's apprehensive agreement, she grinned and bustled back to her computer. Glancing over to the screen of his laptop, he was not at all surprised to see a window pop up and a little box ask if he'd like to have a conversation with someone named 'techqueen.' Raising his eyebrow at the name, he clicked OK and a message appeared on the first window.
techqueen: kk, ru rdy 2 strt?
bbygenius: not b4 [_] of coffee, hlp plz?
With a small snort and a quick glare form Dr. Reid that could maybe give a butterfly a paper cut, she departed from her office and returned a few minutes later with both a cup of coffee and the coffee machine in hand. He gave the coffee machine a strange look, but before he could ask why, Garcia gave him a severe glance and looked pointedly at his laptop.
bbygenius: y'd u bring the coffee maker 2?
techqueen: so I dont 1/2 2 get u more coffee l8r
bbygenius: ty
techqueen: np
bbygenius: did u 1/2 2 nm me bbygenius?
techqueen: cd've been bbymffnpnts.
bbygenius: … O.o
ooo
After a long, gruelling flight back from yet another grisly case, all the team wanted was a nice cup of coffee and some sleep. This however, was not granted to them, for as soon as they entered the bull pen, they caught sight of Reid, hoarding the coffee machine and making an obscene amount of noise. After further inspection they realized that the thing making the unholy amount of noise was a laptop, over which Reid was hunched and of which the screen displayed what might have been a dwarf and a wizard fighting some sort of monster. When the team approached warily, Reid suddenly whooped, the monster vanquished. This caused the team, sans Hotch, to all jump about a centimetre, which did not go unnoticed by their resident genius. He turned around, a slightly insane grin plastered on his face, and shut the laptop with a bit more force than necessary as the dwarf on the screen beat his chest in a very gorilla like fashion.
"Hey guys! Case went well? Good. Um, BRB, too much coffee. Oh, FYI Hotch, Strauss is out for blood, IDK why. She's been a real pita while you've been gone, so you'd better go see her ASAP, or she'll make our lives fubar and then we'll be SOL. Anyways, too much coffee, BFN."
The team stared after him for a second as Reid hurriedly left the bullpen (it reminded Rossi of a scamper, except in crutches that was impossible) in the direction of the bathroom, then looked around at each other.
"Pita? Fubar?"
"We're confused too."
"Why do I get the feeling that Garcia is behind this?"
ooo
After a short investigation that even a rookie cop at a precinct in the middle of Nowheresville, Alaska could have solved, it was determined that Garcia was indeed the cause of Reid's strange language pattern - and excessive coffee drinking. As a whole, the team wasn't sure which was more unsettling, a Reid talking in improper English, or a Reid strung up on sugar and caffeine. Either way, the young doctor found himself sitting opposite Hotch's desk soon after the team's return.
"Reid, I don't care whether you have doctor's permission or not, you're coming with us on the next case. And you're to start speaking proper English again, too."
"Yes sir."
"Furthermore, the rest of us will be handling communication with Garcia until further notice. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly."
Inwardly Reid grinned. He'd known that his plan to use his Garcia-given information to annoy the hell out of his coworkers would get him back into the field.
A/N 2: Thanks for reading! Review please.