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Chapter summary: How Garcia got roped into this...


Chapter twelve: Garcia

"Oh no," she groaned. "No, my baby Einstein that won't do at all."

Ping.

The scanner is unable to recognize 47% of the image.

For the seventh time this morning.

Trust Spencer Reid to challenge her best, light-speed fast and totally awesome graphology program and trust that gorgeous smartass with strong emphasis on ass part to do so with the handwritten list three pages long of victimology of murders in east Oregon, never mind that aforementioned gluteus maximus wrote it down during a coffee break on Friday afternoon before he took off. He just had to do it by hand! Smart, humongous ass.

She loved her whole team and each of them the best because she loved them each in a different way and in Reid there was something that inspired protective vibes towards him right from the start. She sincerely hoped that their baby genius would never realize how strong those vibes were and how much his seemingly innocent demeanor and those big brown, doe eyes had appealed to all women in BAU in monthly intervals when motherly instincts were the strongest. She was as guilty as the rest of them.

It was his eyes and the air of vulnerability that often made him the target of all those crazy buckos they were chasing, he didn't look threatening, he wasn't threatening… until he opened his mouth to prove to the world that he might not look like a threat but his brain in fact was the biggest threat of them all.

And as much as she loved him dearly he was still an ass for turning in that handwritten list which put her scanner on strike. For THAT he was getting the tablet and he could protest on that account until he turned blue there was no mercy for all those hours of work he just dumped on her.

Except she still needed that list, in legible handwriting.

"Beware Boy Wonder, mama is coming and she won't go away until you will tell her everything you scribbled down," she muttered as she triangulated both of his cell-phones.

3514 Winfield Lane NW, DC.

Great, he was home while she was working her bum off. There better be Reid's special awaiting for her otherwise she will wipe the hard-drive of his personal laptop and all of his Tivoed Star Trek episodes.

She quickly grabbed her laptop, that damned list which broke her scanner, collected her purses and jacket before she stormed to the parking lot.

She made it as far as to Dale City when Esther started signaling that without a stop at the gas station further driving would be questionable at best.

She paid for the fuel and was about to start Esther's engine when she got startled by a loud crash and muttered, "Damn it."

It came from the left so she looked there.

Oh. Boy. Wow.

Never mind small blue Toyota that was standing in the other lane but the man in front of it was drop down gorgeous.

She had Kevin and she loved Kevin but it didn't mean that she couldn't appreciate finely shaped specimen of a male population, very finely shaped specimen of male population.

Six feet, gorgeously tanned in all the right places in white shirt and trousers that contrasted with the tan. Dark brown, slightly curly hair that reached his shoulders. Not too muscled but not overly lanky.

Simply wow.

Wait a minute he wasn't the only one, she realized quickly as the driver's door of the Toyota opened and another nicely shaped specimen of male population stepped to the front of the small car.

They were very much the same except that one gorgeous cookie had his hair chopped off like Reid in his brief boy band's phase about a year ago.

"Crap," the boy's band boy muttered. "Now what?"

"Know a taxi number?" the other asked.

"Last time I was in DC was when I was stalking Sawyer to get him roped in as the second best man, Danny Boy," boy's band guy snorted.

"Fat load of good it had done to you, Samson," Danny muttered. "I bet a tener that Sawyer will comment on that," he motioned at Samson's head. "And that biblical Samson will be referenced."

"Then I will tell our Poodle that now since he has a toddler on his own he should watch his head," Samson muttered.

"Still a woman," Danny winked. "And speaking about women…" he looked to his left.

Penelope gulped. She was spotted. Well, fuck.

Take a deep breath and smile, no fainting.

"Excuse me," Danny said as she slowly approached Esther. "Do you happen to know a number to a local taxi company?"

"I do. Car service too," she said quickly.

"Never mind that," Danny beamed. "Man power will pick it up tomorrow and even if it won't we are too tired to care about the car more than reaching our accommodations."

"More precisely where?" she asked simply. "So I would know which one to call."

"Winfield Lane Northwest, DC," Samson said as he eyed the inside of the Toyota. "Out like a rain."

"Do you blame them?" Danny asked. "It was six hours drive."

She looked in the car too. There were two small, dark heads. Kids.

Kids plus gorgeous men. Not much of a threat and she was heading there anyway.

"I need to drop something to a friend of mine in Georgetown," she found herself saying. "I can drop you there."

"You are true life saver, Miss…" Danny said cheerfully.

"Penelope Garcia," she extended her hand.

"Danny…" Danny approached her and bend down to kiss her hand, he straightened his back and suddenly yelped, "ouch…"

Samson was standing about two feet behind him with a smirk on his face before he said, "Danny Shameless Flirt."

"Samson Recently Left By His Wife," Danny coughed.

"Cut it for a while Romeo unless you want to pay for having rental car towed away," Samson said dryly.

"It's in your name," Danny muttered.

"Because apparently I look more credible to rental company," Samson declared. "We wouldn't be causing you any troubles Miss Garcia?" he asked politely.

"Not at all," she smiled gently.

God, they were so cute.

It took them few minutes to maneuver the Toyota to the parking behind the station. She parked right behind them and opened Esther's rear where Danny dropped their bags while Samson carried out from the car two beautiful girls which looked about five, six at the most.

Danny got into front passenger seat while Samson got to the rear seat with the sleeping girls.

"Brothers?" she asked curiously when they started driving.

"Twins," Danny said lightly. "Though we don't look like twins since Sammy had a brush with two five years old armed with scissors."

"And he is the evil twin," Samson declared from the backseat.

"I can be the evil twin," Danny said simply. "At the very least I'm not the eviler twin."

"No, you are just an A and a double S," Samson shrugged.

"At least my wife didn't run away with a scuba diving instructor," Danny quipped.

"At least I had a wife, you had the scuba diving instructor," Samson coughed. "Right now we are square and we don't have either."

"Any man who runs off with my sister-in-law is not worth a crap," Danny said simply. "But look on the bright side of it. Sawyer will laugh his butt off."

"Sawyer told you that you have nothing to fear," Samson shrugged. "It's okay to be gay."

"Bisexual and mind your straight ass," Danny coughed.

"Sawyer said that," Samson snickered. "Stop pining on me what he said. He also said that there is a river in Egypt…"

"Called the Nile and that it's full of crocodiles," Danny rolled his eyes. "Why don't you two start a club?"

"We are already in one, Danny Boy, it's called Let's Poke a Fun From Danny for Pretending That He Isn't Into Men During Family Gatherings," Samson quipped.

"Really?" Danny grunted. "Personally I call it an A and double S. And when was the last time we saw aforementioned butt?"

"I saw him more than a year ago in Maine on anniversaries weekend," Samson shrugged. "I wasn't the one who claimed severe food poisoning just to wriggle myself from questions about possible grandchildren."

"Because you already given them two of them," Danny said simply. "Now there is Sawyer and I hope that they will be so concentrated on his munchkin that I will avoid questioning."

"You wouldn't be asked if you told them the truth," Samson said simply.

"Why you are my brother?" Danny asked skeptically.

"Do you want a straight answer?" Samson snickered.

"No, a gay one would be just fine, you butt," Danny snorted.

"Because someone has to be bigger evil than you," Samson quipped.

"Eviler twin?" Penelope interjected.

That part was bugging her right since she heard it because she knew that she heard it somewhere before but for the life of her she couldn't pin point where she had heard it.

She glanced into the mirror and saw how Samson looked down at the sleeping girls. She saw that particular movement before. Samson looked up at her and gave her lopsided grin, his eyes twinkled merrily.

No. It wasn't possible. Completely and wholly impossible, there was no way in hell.…

Evil twin, eviler twin and that damned haircut and those eyes.

It was all Reid except it wasn't.

"Reid you bastard," she muttered. "When I will be done with you tablet would be the last of your worries."

"Someone is in trouble," Danny coughed.

"Is your surname by any chance Reid?" Penelope asked swiftly.

"Last time I checked it was," Samson confirmed simply.

"And you have a relative living on Winfield Lane Northwest in DC?" she asked. "More precisely under number 3514?"

"Sawyer," Samson nodded.

That didn't fit. She knew SPENCER Reid, not SAWYER Reid.

"Given name Spencer but with accumulations of Spencers in the family he was nicknamed Sawyer or simply Saw," Samson explained. "Also answer to Smartass, Britannica, Freddie the Hanged, Better Twin and Cuz."

"Not necessarily in that order," Danny coughed. "Most notably he reacts to Sawyer, Smartass and Cuz."

"Cousin?" Penelope asked curiously.

"Adult one," Samson admitted. "We also have the squirrels, they are in fifth grade."

"Big family?" she pressed.

"Grandpa Spencer had twelve sons," Danny shrugged. "Sawyer's father was the oldest, our pops was the fifth, squirrels' dad was the sixth."

Reid, you humungous buttock, you mammoth ass, why you never said a word?

"Close family?" she asked innocently.

"Depends from the grandmother," Samson shrugged. "Sawyer is from grandma Bel's line, but he and Aunt Diana were adopted by our cluster after Sawyer's father done a runner. Our cluster is pretty close, I don't know how are the others."

"Jonah," Danny coughed. "Your youngest brother is as much of an ass as the oldest, Uncle Dave."

"It was a miracle that Sawyer didn't kill him," Samson snorted. "I know I would."

"Big age difference?" she asked curiously.

"Depends," Samson asked. "Between Uncle Will and Uncle Jonah there is twenty-seven years. Jonah was born in the same year as Sawyer but two months later actually and between us and Sawyer there is four years difference and between him and Chip and Dale there is nineteen years difference. It's quite big age gap."

"You know him?" Danny asked curiously.

"The One With the Power to Render Him to Painting Massages on Walls, Danny Boy," Samson chuckled.

"What?" Danny asked.

"I listen to what he is saying, Danny Boy," Samson snickered. "He talks about many interesting things. Talk line, people I wouldn't dare to cross, Danny."

Danny frowned and then he flinched before he said, "I don't care how many alpha males are on the team, with them I can negotiate but Garcia I wouldn't cross for the world."

Penelope smiled to herself. Reid learned fast and outranking the Boss Man, Chocolate Adonis and Italian Stud counted for something even if that compliment contained a veiled insult that she was non-negotiable.

"Spurt of a moment visit?" she asked curiously.

"Not exactly," Danny shrugged as she pulled into parking. "Family gathering."

"You wouldn't mind if I kidnapped him for five minutes?" she asked as turned the ignition off. "He owes me explanation for the list that killed the scanner."

"Keep him," Samson chuckled. "One less pair of hands with the kid."

"Reid doesn't have kids," Penelope shook her head as she stepped out from Esther.

Reid didn't have kids because if Reid had kids he would have told them. He would have told HER.

But then again Reid was also very keen of his privacy and the only person more paranoid about his privacy in the team was the Boss Man. Except for the most of the time their paranoia had stayed within the boundaries of reason. This had no reason.

"Reid! Cupcake! Baby Einstein!" she called out as she knocked on the door forcibly. "Come here my sweetness or I will update all of your electronic devices to upper level."

There was still no answer so she knocked again.

"Reid! I see a tablet in your future! And an iPod. If you don't open the door I will infest with a Trojan which will turn your computers into Swiss cheese… and you will get Arabic subtitles."

The door finally opened and slightly bleary eyed Reid came into her vision.

"Relax," Reid groaned. "I'm up and awake. You don't need to shout."

"No shit Sherlock," she muttered. "Munchkin, I'm going to personally throttle you with that purple scarf of yours. You little envious miscreant with severe issues with everything that isn't at the very least five years old…"

She looked past Reid and saw that he wasn't alone. Not alone at all. Hence the pair who were still standing around Esther Reid actually had extended family.

More or less they were similar in looks to Reid, men at the very least. Brown-haired, two graying slightly and all had dark eyes. Neither were lanky but all of them were tall and only one looked like he liked to eat quite a lot.

Women were different. They varied in looks and body-built.

One of them was Mrs Reid and Penelope did remember her from the time she meet her. She appeared to be slightly apprehensive and Penelope immediately mentally kicked herself.

There were also others. Two blondes. One very lanky and pale, very frail but with very nice smile. The other was smaller than the former and more filled out with rosy cheeks and cheeky smile.

The brunette who stood by her side had exactly the same cheeky smile. The redhead was the smallest and the most filled out.

Suddenly something had torn between the adults and a purple bullet launched itself at Reid mewling alternatively in Garcia's direction to leave her daddy alone or in Reid's to not leave her alone.

Somehow purple bundle had climbed up into Reid's arms just as Reid's cousins reached the door and Reid reacted in an utterly Hotch-like manner by saying.

"What, did you join a boy band?"

To which he received a slightly muffled snort, "No, I didn't. But apparently you are a psychic and at some point you foresaw a toddler in your future and you decided on having your hair cut by an adult."

Well, Samson, because apparently at him that comment was oriented, had a point.

As for the toddler in question…

She looked like mini-version of Reid, well except in hair length, hers were very long for a child her age and obviously hadn't been cut for a very long time.

Reid suddenly mumbled something about getting his baby a cup of water and left the hall. It was only when the door outside slammed shut when it occurred to Penelope that Reid's kitchen in no way was accessible through the porch through which he left.

The brief hunt around the house for Reid and his baby had ended with a conclusion that Boy Wonder locked himself up in the storage which was accessible only through the garage and the garden because the inner staircase lead down to the garage.

Reid moving houses surprised everyone. It just happened sometime after Gideon left. One day Boy Wonder lived under number 84 H Street NW, in a single bedroom apartment and next day a post-it note appeared on one of her screens with a new address, DR SR, 3514 Winfield Lane NW, DC.

Perhaps it was for the best in the end. Reid's stint with drugs no matter how brief haunted him even after detox and she had no doubt that along with his apartment Reid was trying to leave behind the shadows that followed him from Georgia.

Besides the house unlike the apartment had something that was purely and definitely Reid. She didn't know what Boy Wonder had done to get the house on a incredibly low price considering the neighborhood and size of the house but somehow he did it and his finances didn't appear to suffer much, for a while. Or perhaps it didn't seem so because the number of Reid's publications spiked after he moved to Georgetown.

The house itself was not too big and not to small, quite spacious and comfy and when he invited the team for small party he had no problems with showing them around. The storage looked back then as if a crew of carpenters had taken a residence in there.

"Workshop," tall, graying man declared. "Should have known."

"Do you blame him, Spencer?" the lanky blonde asked.

"Not really, I'm only concerned about the girl," the man called Spencer (who the hell was naming the men in that family) shrugged simply.

"Workshop?" Penelope asked curiously.

"Saws, hammers, nails," the man said.

Penelope gulped. Reid was never into physical work, mind work, sure as hell but it took him and Morgan to assembled the couches because Boy Wonder scoffed on the price of the crew, which meant that Morgan assembled the couches after Reid almost smashed his own hand with a hammer and nearly poked his eye out with a screwdriver.

"He will be just fine," big bellied man declared. "Give a kid a name and you give him character."

"I hope so," Mrs Reid smiled fondly. "Sounds like hiding."

"Kid needs his privacy," one of the remaining two men said. "Who says yes to a shopping trip?"

Many did, some did not. Penelope herself couldn't resist the allure of a shopping trip and learning more about Reid's relatives.

They respectively answered to names Mina (for Jasmine), Spartin (curiously enough Spencer Martin), Dave, Sheba (for Bathsheba), Tina (for Clementine), Nina (for Janine), Toby and Tim.

Reid's credit card fell prey to them and for a good reason too. After all they had to buy everything which a three years old Cynthia would need and Reid's aunts were completely endearing.

Together in a matter of two hours they all managed to cover all grounds. From color of the walls (lilac, such an endearing child, she took so much after her daddy) down to the shoes.

Sure they might have gone a little overboard with fanciness but Reid's precious pumpkin deserved the best and Aunt Penelope was ready to give her the moon if the girl wanted. Besides Reid needed help. He was a genius but there were some areas in which he was really, really dense.

She was less convinced when she presented her personal prize, purple stroller to him. Reid really didn't look well and quite quickly excused himself. But she let him be because watching the kids frolicking in the garden was completely enchanting activity. Plus there was something definitely funny about Morgan with kids.

In a matter of fifteen minutes he was consequently tackled, chased around the backyard with Clooney participating in the chase which ended in another tackle and another chase, this time with giggling Cynthia in his arms and despite his strength he was handling her with great care and gentleness.

"Princess over here wants apple juice," Morgan declared as he marched into the kitchen with Cynthia in his arms. "What you told him to made such a hasty retreat to a house which is not his?"

"I didn't tell him anything, or at the very least more than he asked for," Penelope said pensively. "But he certainly looked odd, disturbed. Perhaps we should be easy with shocking him."

She turned around and rummaged the fridge for apple juice, she poured it into a cup they bought for Cynthia and handed it to her just as from the corner of her eye she saw Reid march through the porch into the house and finally into the kitchen.

He had a hell of a shiner on the left side of his face.

"What happened to you my Baby Einstein?" Penelope asked in concern.

Reid coughed something under his breath and reached into the fridge from which he pulled an ice pack and put it over the bruise.

"Please, don't tell me that a door got into your way," Morgan said skeptically.

"No door," Reid muttered.

Cynthia extended her hands to him and he picked her up with his free arm.

"Who done that then?" Morgan pointed at him.

"I did," Reid scoffed.

"You clocked yourself like that?" Penelope asked skeptically.

"No," Reid shook his head. "But apparently this," he lowered the ice pack, turned it over in his hand before he put it back again. "Is a sign that my annual leave is long overdue and that I really should spend it at resting. Taking a catnap in a closet, hazily attacking the owner of that closet while I wasn't even fully aware of where I was. So I tackled the looming shadow and almost won if it wasn't for an adrenaline kick which ended with this."

"You can press charges," Morgan offered.

"I'd rather not…" Reid mumbled

"He assaulted a civilian in their home, without warrant and even better a good reason," a brunette by the window stated simply. "I'm not a suspect in any federal investigation so a federal agent has not business in hiding inside my closet, he also has no grounds to tackle me and if he gets bruised he gets bruised by his own merits. Other than that it's just a shiner, no broken bones or blood. Trust me, I'm a doctor."

"Of actual medicine," Reid muttered. "Even if it's psychiatric medicine. Leaving so fast?"

"I have to," the woman said as she dropped two sets of keys on the counter. "I will be gone till Wednesday evening at the very least, most probably Friday afternoon or in extreme circumstances next Monday. Killian shouldn't come back before me but if he will he has his own keys."

"And you are sure that you have no problems with having all of them at your place?" Reid asked skeptically.

"The house is going to be empty anyway and at least you have more time to find a proper hotel," the woman shrugged. "However," she added and pointed at something on her right side, "that house should better be standing when I get back."

"Noted," Reid nodded. "What about Ruby?"

"My cell phones are listed as a contact but the third number is your landline. I will be answering the phones," the woman said.

"Federal agent," Reid coughed.

"Psychiatrist," the woman rolled her eyes. "I don't need a warrant to look around the city for a patient."

"I can still lock you up for that shiner," Reid snorted.

"You physically assaulted me in my own closet… and with my own coat," the woman snorted. "Trust me I need less to put you in a room with padded walls and since we wandered into my area of expertise," she added as she picked something from her pocket. "Prescription for Latuda. If you are going to need anything else the name is Harry Solomon, if you need to skip the line tell the nurse on duty that Mars is very bright tonight and yes, I'm serious. They would know how to proceed."

"Lock me up in that charming room with padded walls?" Reid offered as he took the prescription.

"No, Boy Wonder," the woman rolled her eyes. "Squeeze you into an emergency visit within fifteen minutes. He sometimes does it for families of my patients when I'm out of town and he sets the password of the month."

"But if I will spend three days in the padded room I will lock you up in Quantico's holding cell for three days remember that," Reid muttered.

"Threat duly noted," the woman shrugged. "Will you need a car?"

"Quite so, Smartypants," Reid nodded. "Though their patriotism might disagree with a Volkswagen."

"At least my car isn't a potential lethal trap with questionable breaks, Mr I'm Sorry For Your Garage Door," the woman said sweetly.

"I said that I was sorry and my car actually looked worse than your garage door," Reid snorted.

"Bye, I'm not listening," the woman muttered and wandered away but she quickly came back and threw the car keys on the counter before she narrowed her eyes at Reid and said sweetly, "And keep your hands away from my dissertation."

"Which dissertation?" Reid asked innocently.

"The one you were eyeing upside down while I was looking for fractured bones," the woman muttered. "Hands off, it's mine, you have your PhD in psychology, stop messing with mine."

"Nice…" Reid drawled.

"Cynthia, Sweetpie," the woman said sweetly to Reid's little girl. "Tell your daddy that he is a HE."

"Of course he is he," Cynthia agreed.

"Hah," the woman smirked. "Even your daughter knows that."

"That I'm a he, sure she does," Reid agreed. "She doesn't know that your HE starts with h and ends with ypocrite. Perish, she devil, wicked witch of east, bane of my existence… Abuser of federal agents."

"And a nice day to you too," the woman smirked and disappeared.

When Reid turned around to face them Morgan had the most peculiar expression on his face.

"Someone has been getting some lessons in horizontal tango," Morgan snickered.

"No, somebody wasn't dancing very much as of late," Reid snorted. "And if somebody in this room was doing horizontal tapdance sometime this year then it wasn't me. My social life is pretty dead."

Penelope smiled to herself before she said, "Baby Einstein, if that wasn't chemistry I don't know what it was."

"Banter," Reid offered as he put the icepack back in the fridge. "And trust me if the ability to trade verbal jabs was any indication of horizontal dancing you two would be married for last six years, with four to five kids, three dogs, two cats and a goldfish named Nemo. You are not. Now excuse me, I need to assess the damage upstairs. Come on Cynthia."

And with that Parthian shot Spencer Reid left the kitchen.

The tablet looked more and more solid.


Like it? Hate it? Let me know.

Next chapter: Because Reid is fond of his sanity he does something completely insane but at the very least he is (almost) on his own with the kids. The return of little red Corvette and the meeting with Purple Torpedo. Two strollers, two adults and ten kids to control... Sometimes severely delusional unsubs are easier to handle than this.