A/N
I've been feeling really blue for several days, unable to write and do anything creative or productive, and I have no actual reason for feeling this way. Since I'm often using Blake as an emotional sounding board, I decided to see if she could find out what I should do to feel better, and while she couldn't answer the question for me, the fic itself explained what I need. A Garcia. Unfortunately I don't think they're easy to come by, but I felt better just writing the story, so that's enough for today. :)
One-shot and completely unrelated to my ongoing works.
It wasn't like Alex Blake to take sick days, and it was unheard of that she'd take one without actually being sick, but ever since she got home last afternoon she has felt like an enormous weight is pushing her down. She knows what this is, but she has no explanation for why it's happening right now. She's familiar with depression, having suffered from it for years following the Amerithrax case and her following career crisis, but it's been many years since, and it doesn't seem like this bout has a trigger. Things are fine. She's healthy, James is healthy, he'll be home in a bit over a week and they spoke over Skype the day before yesterday, in their regular routine. Work is going well, she's settled in fine with the BAU team in spite of her initial worries (replacing a loved colleague in a tight knit team unit is never an easy task, especially not when you're not a very outgoing personality) and she has even made peace (sort of) with Erin Strauss. She has her life going in the direction she wants it to.
So why does she feel like this? She has no idea, and what's even worse, she has no control over these sweeping feelings of inadequacy and exhaustion. Alex hates not being in control, but this is worse than just feeling upset… it's as if darkness has seeped into her and makes her entire body feel exhausted and heavy, and the same thing goes for her mind. Her normally quick thinking has slowed down and it's as if she can't pursue one thought till its end before it's interrupted. And while she doesn't feel like she's able to do anything but lying down, her entire body is tense, as if the tendons and muscles have turned into knots. It hurts, but it hurts almost more to try and relax.
She's not usually one for comfort eating, but she feels like she could kill someone over a container of Ben and Jerry's right now. Anything with an absolutely undefendable amount of carbs and sugar, to be brutally frank. Alex hasn't indulged in stuff like that for months; she's not exactly on a diet, but she is above all things practical, and sugar really isn't a practical thing at all. It's bad for the teeth, bad for the weight, bad for the body, bad for the wallet. But right now the craving is so strong she wants to cry, but she's too exhausted to put on clothes and go to the store.
Her first reaction when the doorbell rings is to ignore it and pretend she's not at home, but after ignoring the visitor for several minutes, she gets a text to her phone instead.
Open the door or I'll hack into your Facebook account and make a public status update with really bad grammar.
Alex has to smile against her will and texts Garcia back.
Don't have a Facebook account.
You will if you don't open the door.
She sighs and reluctantly gets to her feet, shuffles towards the door and opens it.
"Hi, Garcia," she says in very tired voice.
"Whoa. How are you?"
Alex can read from Garcia's eyes and voice alike just how lousy she must look and she wants to close the door in the other woman's face. Instead she takes a deep breath and shakes her head.
"Miserable, but fine."
"Did something happen?"
"No. I just, it's just one of those days, I don't know," she says and shrugs, as if Garcia knows what she means. Which she seems to do, as she nods.
"I just want to be alone," Alex adds and begins to close the door, but Garcia stops her.
"I know that's what you want, but that's not what you need. Trust me. I speak from experience. What you need is company."
"I'm not a very entertaining company today, I'm afraid," Alex insists and makes another attempt at closing the door.
"Okay, I see I have to use the weapon to end all weapons," Garcia says and picks up something from a bag she's carrying. "Ice cream." Alex begins to object because she doesn't want to admit how strong her cravings are, and Garcia grins and shakes her head. "Don't even try, pretty lady, I know Ben and Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup is this Superwoman's Kryptonite."
Alex gives in to the kindness (and her cravings) and opens the door fully to let the thoughtful tech analyst inside.
"How did you know I needed this?"
"I don't reveal my sources, Lady FBI, but there might have been an off-hand comment from Chocolate Thunder about how tired and blue you seemed."
Alex snorts. And there she had been sure Morgan would be the least attentive to her moods, which was the reason she had chosen to sit next to him on the trip home.
"Don't give me that look, Doe Eyes," Garcia says and looks around. "I'm going to distract you from those depressive thoughts and there is nothing you can do about it but grin and eat ice cream. Spoons. We need spoons. This deliciousness is going to melt if we don't eat it soon and I'll hold you responsible if it does."
Alex smiles a little. It's not much more than a brief twitch of her lips, but it doesn't pass Garcia by.
"Second drawer," Alex says and points to the kitchen. "I'm just gonna, uh, change clothes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm in my pyjamas…?"
"So? I've already seen it by now, and you look more comfortable in it than you do in one of those pantsuits, so keep it on," Garcia says as she heads for the kitchen in search of spoons. "In case you wonder, I'm not making this visit to force you to act professional, I'm here to make you feel better."
"I just need some time alone, really," Alex repeats, but she doesn't even sound convincing to herself.
"Yeah, unless there's a secret friend somewhere that nobody knows about, you've had alone time since yesterday two pm, and frankly, you look worse today than you did yesterday."
"Penelope…"
"Here you go. I have some other goodness in my bag, wait for it," Garcia murmurs as she rummages through her stuff. "I assumed you didn't have an Xbox, so I took the liberty of bringing one of mine."
One of hers?, Alex thinks. How many of those things does one person need?
"I don't play video games."
"I promise I'll let you win the first round."
That lip-twitch is back, and this time Alex can't stop it from becoming an actual smile. She really does feel better already.
"Fine," she says, and digs into the ice cream while Garcia sets up the Xbox. "Thank you. You know, for thinking of me."
"Anytime, Buttercup."
"Oh God, did I just get a new nickname?" Alex asks with her mouth full of ice cream.
"Just off the record," Garcia replies.
"When it comes to you, everything is off the record," Alex says, but she's smiling again, and it seems this blue feeling will go away altogether from some time in Garcia's company.
"Yes it is," Garcia agrees. "Don't tell me you're not feeling better; you're smiling now."
"You're right, Garcia. You were right from the start."
"Of course I was. They don't call me Miracle Worker for nothing."
