A/N: Writer's block is the pits. But I have to thank bookcrzygirl for giving me the brilliant idea that shows up at the end of the chapter. Sweetie, that was much-needed; thnx!


'Isn't he just adorable?' Garcia squealed as JJ handed Henry to his godmother. Michelle laughed from her spot on the couch, as the little boy squirmed in Garcia's arms. She was glad already that Reid had gotten her to eat and shower and change. And for letting his friends—their friends—come over to the apartment. They'd come bearing pizza, chips, pop and beer, plus more cheer than she'd had since a long, long time.

'Call this a late welcome party.' Emily had said, as she and Morgan cracked open the drinks. 'Which is more than I got when I came here.'

'Well, we really didn't know what to think of you, Emily.' JJ reminded her, as she ran a finger over one of the bookshelves. 'Spencer Reid, when was the last time you dusted in here?' She asked accusingly, and before Reid could defend himself, she'd disappeared into the kitchen to find cleaning supplies.

'JJ's gone on a bit of a clean streak since Henry was born.' Garcia told Michelle quietly, sitting down on the couch beside her. 'Hey, do you want to hold Henry?'

'No, I'm not really good with—' Michelle's protest was cut off when the little boy was plunked into her lap. She was amazed when Henry didn't start to cry immediately, just stared up at her in wonder. 'I guess the Genius Effect is wearing off.' She said weakly.

'Oh, so it's not just Reid?' Morgan asked. 'Cause dogs and babies used to really hate him.'

'My mom started to call it the Genius Effect after her dog wouldn't stop barking every time Reid or I was in the room.'

Morgan turned to Reid. 'You met her mom?'

'She came to visit during our freshman year.' He replied, turning a little red. 'Mrs. Soraley was very nice. She—'

'She's a quadriplegic.' Michelle finished for him. 'She was in a car crash when I was fourteen.'

Reid seemed to notice she was feeling a little uncomfortable, and provided a distraction by taking Henry from her. 'Hey little guy...'

Emily joined Garcia and Michelle on the couch, her eyes on godfather and godson. 'Isn't that just cute?' She sighed. 'Like a monkey with a puppy.'

'What, the situation, or the godfather?' Michelle asked slyly.

'You know what I mean, and I'm not the one who is bunking with said godfather.'

Garcia's eyes went as round as saucers. 'Why did nobody tell me of this?'

Michelle felt heat rising to her face; this was why she avoided "girl talk" moments. 'Guys, it's nothing, alright. There's nothing going on.'

'Answering questions she didn't get asked...' Emily and Garcia exchanged a knowing look, and Michelle knew she had shot herself in the foot, figuratively speaking.

'I swear, you two are going to drive me crazy.'

Morgan suddenly looked around. 'Hey, where did JJ go?'

She emerged from down the hall. 'Spencer Reid, that bathroom was filthy. How can you live in that?'

'JJ, did you clean my bathroom?' He asked, a little shocked. 'You really didn't have to—'

'My son's godfather is not going to die of a fungal infection.' JJ said firmly. 'Michelle, you are going to have to nag him into cleaning every week while you're here, okay?'

'I don't nag anybody about cleaning; I'm above hypocrisy.' She replied mildly.

'JJ, you didn't come with me to pack Michelle a bag.' Garcia added. 'You would have had a hairy fit.'

'I almost had a hairy fit this morning, when I saw what you packed me, Penelope Garcia. You managed to grab every garment my ex-boyfriends ever bought me; none of which I like, and most of which shall never be seen by Quantico.'

The blonde just smirked. 'Oh, just wait a week, and I'm sure you'll be glad I packed that stuff.'

Michelle threw her a dirty look. 'It's a damn good thing I still had my go-bag. And tomorrow, I'm going back to my apartment, to get some real clothes.'

'We.' Reid corrected her, as he handed Henry to his mother. 'We are going to your apartment; you're not driving with that leg Michelle.'

'I'm perfectly fine to drive, Spence.'

'No, you're officially impaired.'

Great; she'd have to be chauffeured around by Reid. It wouldn't be so bad, really, except that he drove like a fussy old woman. Then again, it was probably just that he knew way too many statistics on fatalities due to reckless driving. The curse of knowing everything.

'Actually,' Morgan smirked. 'I think Emily's the impaired on right now. That's beer number...?'

'Only three.' She grumbled. 'And it's our week off; we should enjoy it while it lasts. The only thing pulling us out into the field is an Amber Alert.'

'Not even an internet killing site?' Michelle asked teasingly.

'Garcia can just go in and track them down with her babies.'

Reid shook his head. 'Actually, there's only so much Garcia can do. You weren't able to locate where I was being held by Henkel with the computer.'

Immediately, the attitude of the room dropped ten degrees. They didn't want to remember Henkel, and the horrors his personalities had done. And Michelle knew right then and there that this was a group of people who saw evils, and wanted to forget that they did. But even though memories fade, they don't die; they'd never forget.


'... So then she glares at Morgan, and tries again, making it very clear it's Emily she means when she asks "What's your number, hot stuff?".'

Everyone laughed uproariously at Garcia's story. She'd been getting into the beer, and eventually Emily's surprise bottle of Tequila. They'd eaten all the pizza, most of the chips, and finished the drinks, and had fallen to telling rather embarrassing stories about each other. Michelle glanced out the window, and saw it was getting dark. A low throbbing in her leg emphasized the lateness of the hour.

'You guys should be thinking about getting home soon.' Reid said; he must have caught her glance out the window. 'Though which one of you driving...'

'That will be me.' JJ said firmly, taking Morgan's keys from him. 'Seeing as I'm the only one under the legal limit right now. Come on guys—Michelle needs to get some sleep, and so do you.'

Together, she and Reid managed to usher them out the door, much to Michelle's relief. They were great, but she was tired, and the Dilaudid was wearing off. 'Thanks Spence. I guess I owe you another one.'

'Michelle, you don't owe me anything.' He assured her, joining her on the couch. 'Besides, two drunken profilers, and a drunk tech goddess can be a little too much for anyone. That's why I don't go out with them much.'

'I haven't gone out much since I left Yale.' She admitted. 'I mean, I cut back on my social drinking when I got clean, and bars kinda suck when you're sober.'

'Another reason why I don't go out.'

Michelle thought back to the days when she had gone to bars; or at least as much as she could remember... There was so much that was just a hazy blur, with odd, snapshot memories of things she'd almost rather forget. She didn't want her life to be like that ever again. She wanted to really live it.

'It's almost ten o'clock Michelle.' Reid said reluctantly. ' You should get ready for bed.'

'No, I don't want to go to sleep yet.' She replied stubbornly. 'I want to stay up late, and push my limits a bit.'

'You do realize how childish that sounds, right?'

'I don't care. And "getting ready for bed" sounds even more childish.'

Standing up, he faced her from the other side of the coffee table. 'Michelle Soraley, if you want to get better and recover you need to eat and sleep properly. At least ten hours every night.'

'You don't need to talk to me like I'm a child.' She muttered. 'You know how much you hated being treated like a kid.'

'Well, start acting like an adult.' Reid said irritably. 'Rather than a snarky teenager.'

He was right. She was acting like a teenager— the one she never was—and Michelle was perfectly happy to indulge in the role. In fact, she might have said something she'd regret later, had the phone not rang just then. Reid answered it, nodded twice and then handed it over to a surprised Michelle. 'Hello?'

"Agent Soraley, this is Dr. Sweets calling from the BAU." A young, male voice said far too cheerfully on the other end. "I'm sorry, I know it's late, but Agent Strauss asked me to call you."

'In regards to...'

"Right, you don't know who I am; I'm the Unit Psychologist."

Michelle felt her stomach drop like a stone. Strauss had ordered for her to be evaluated by a Shrink; another Shrink! She was a Shrink; mind, a forensic one, and not clinical. Glancing at Reid, she saw he look surprised and apologetic. He hadn't expected this, and he felt sorry for her.

'I'm sorry, but I'm not expected to return to work for a long time; I don't see how an evaluation would be needed.' Michelle replied pointedly.

Dr. Sweets cleared his throat. "I know; I was surprised she asked myself. But Agent Strauss told me that there has been a bit of a history of problems on your team with agents returning from trauma. She wanted to make sure past mistakes weren't repeated, and I totally agree."

She sighed. 'Is this really necessary? I'm not exactly in the best shape to be running around Quantico right now.'

"So long as you come in by the end of the week, I'm good."

She placed a hand over the mouthpiece. 'Spence, we're going over to my apartment tomorrow, right?'

He shrugged. 'That was the plan.'

'Then we can stop by Quantico—may as well make it one trip.' Michelle uncovered the phone. 'Alright, I can come tomorrow; get this out of the way.'

"Cool!" The Shrink, who sounded younger the more he talked, agreed. "Stop by anytime, I'll be there all day; probably in the break room. You'll find me."

They hung up, and Michelle noticed Reid was smirking at her. 'What's so damn funny?'

'You didn't have a chance to meet Sweets yet. Let's just say he's young.'

Young meant immature; the stereotype Michelle knew they'd both worked so hard to break with the Bureau. He probably knew she was a psychologist herself, but he didn't know if she'd use that against him. This could be fun.


So we're having a bit of a cross-into from my story Five Years Changes Everything, with a cameo appearance by Sweets. Once again, thanks bookcrzygirl; I totally owe you!