AN: Sorry this update is on Thursday instead of Wednesday - real life got in the way and I ended up with some major edits in this chapter. I want to thank peanutmeg for betaing this chapter for me. Her suggestions/corrections helped a lot. BTW - I want to thank everyone who has put this story on there favorite list - I never thought one of my stories would have over 200 favorite alerts but this one does! You guys are awesome!
Dear Mom,
I guess I should be nervous today – Agent Hotchner turns in his first evaluation of me. Somehow, I'm not though. Maybe it's because despite a rough start, I know I've tried my best and what he chooses to include or not include in my evaluation is out of my hands; regardless of his evaluation, I actually did it. I made it through my first sixty days as a special agent for the FBI. It's definitely been a roller coaster ride and at points I didn't think I would get this far, but here I am. I've done my best and after all, you've always told me that doing my best was all that anyone could ever expect from me.
Things at the office are starting to get festive. Most of the agents' office doors have wreaths on them. Agent Nichols has gone all out with his office, though. He's covered the outside of the door with green and red stripped wrapping paper, and stuck silver and gold package bows all over the door. He strung Christmas lights around the inside of the room, and even brought in a small artificial tree that is sitting on a small stand in the corner. The tree started in the conference room but Gideon made him take it out. There is still blue garland strung around the conference room though. Somehow Nichols has talked Gideon into letting him keep up.
Though the majority of the agents are showing the holiday spirit, no one is close to Nichols in that department. I get the feeling Agent Gideon isn't much into the holiday. He seems to be patiently allowing others their fun, but isn't participating much himself. Even the wreath on his door is only there because Nichols put it up. I guess in a way I understand how he feels. I haven't heard Agent Gideon talk much about any family, and though he spends time with Agent Hotchner and some other agents outside of work, that seems to be the limit to his social outings. Getting into the holiday spirit isn't as easy when you don't have friends and family to share it with. Don't worry about me though. I'll be fine and I hope you allow yourself to enjoy the holiday. I know everyone at Bennington goes out of their way to make it special for everyone there and I hope to hear all about the festivities. I'll call you Christmas night to hear all the news.
Spencer wrote a few more paragraphs in the letter and then folded the paper, tucking it inside a Christmas card that he had picked up for his mother. He had already mailed out his Christmas gift to her, sending it in care of the facility so that it could be given to her on Christmas morning. Slipping the card into the envelope, he sealed it and then quickly flipped it over to write the address and press a stamp to the upper right corner.
Getting to his feet, he glanced at the clock. It was still a bit early but he decided he would leave for the office anyway. It wasn't like he had anything to do around the apartment. With the card and some bills he needed to mail in his hand, he walked toward the door. He placed the mail on the desk near the wall and reached for his winter coat. After donning the coat, scarf, hat and leather gloves, Reid shouldered his messenger bag, grabbed his keys and the mail from the desk and headed out of his apartment.
Stepping onto the front steps of the building, Reid felt the icy wind that was blowing hit the bare skin of his face. Soft snowflakes floated slowly down from the sky and had already created a light film of white on the ground. This wasn't the first time they had snow, but as of yet there had been very little accumulation. It looked like this storm might change that. It wasn't something he was looking forward to, as the Las Vegas native was already looking forward to the warmer summer temperatures to return.
Walking down the steps, Reid walked toward the nearby mailbox. He dropped the envelopes into the blue box, and then stuffing his hands deep into his pockets, started making his way to the closet metro stop. Already, he could feel the cold trying to seep through his warm clothes and couldn't wait to get inside.
"I so don't see what the big deal about snow is," Reid muttered as he walked quickly down the street.
By the time Reid was walking toward the building housing the Academy, the snow was falling faster. Finding the snow perfect for creating snowballs, several agents had apparently forgotten how old they actually were, and were tossing the round white ammunition at one another. Hoping to reach the front entrance without getting hit, Reid kept his head down and quickly walked toward the front of the building.
He was just about there when a snowball suddenly made contact with the back of his neck. As it fell apart, snow slipped in between his skin and the scarf that had loosened some during his travels, causing Reid to gasp at the shock of the cold precipitation.
"Oh, man, Reid I'm sorry," he heard Morgan say. "I was aiming for Sanders but he ducked."
Reid didn't respond as he just kept walking toward the door. He wasn't about to give his co-workers extra time to throw more snowballs at him.
~I'm already really starting to hate snow, ~ he thought to himself as he hurried up the front steps. He was reaching for the door handle when Morgan caught up to him.
"You okay, Reid?" Morgan asked, as he reached out to brush the rest of the snow off the back of the younger agent's scarf and coat.
"I'm fine," Reid replied, pulling open the door and walking inside.
The security guards on duty glanced up and recognizing them waved them through. As he crossed the lobby toward the elevators, Morgan still in step with him, Reid reached up to remove the scarf. Snow fell to the floor as he unwrapped it.
"I really didn't mean to hit you," Morgan said, as Reid stabbed at the up button on the wall.
Reid glanced over at Morgan. Two months ago, he would have had a hard time believing the older agent. However, now he didn't doubt the sincerity that he saw in his co-worker's dark eyes. While he wouldn't call the older man a friend, and Morgan did tend to tease him from time to time, Morgan did greet him every morning and attempted conversations with him, which was more than most of the other agents did.
"It's okay. I'm just glad to be inside now."
"Not exactly enjoying winter so far, huh?" Morgan commented, as the elevator doors opened and the two stepped inside.
"It can't be over soon enough," Reid commented.
"Just be happy you're not in Chicago," Morgan said, with an amused laugh as he stuffed his gloves into the pocket of his worn leather jacket.
"I'll stick to trying to fit in here," Reid said quietly, his gloved hands stuffed into his coast pocket again.
"You're doing fine."
"Hope Agent Hotchner shares that sentiment."
Morgan glanced at Reid briefly trying to figure out the comment. It didn't take him long to make the connection. "Your first evaluation?" Morgan asked. Reid nodded in reply. "So, you made it sixty days, huh. Good job."
"I've got to make it through today still."
"Well, I promise not to throw any more snowballs in your direction."
"Bet no one had me lasting this long in that office pool."
"I wouldn't know," Morgan said, fibbing slightly as he knew the longest anyone had given Reid was thirty days and that was only because he had overheard two of their fellow agents making a comment. "Now that you've made it this far, things should start getting easier."
"I hope so," Reid said quietly, as the doors opened and the two agents stepped onto the sixth floor.
Reid had just reached his desk when a voice called him.
"Reid, I'd like to see you in my office as soon as you're settled," Hotch said, when the younger agent glanced up at him.
"Yes, sir," Reid replied quickly, wondering if he had made a mistake in the paperwork he had turned in the day before.
Reid lifted the strap of his bag over his head and placed it in his chair. He then quickly stripped off the gloves and heavy coat, draping the latter over the back of his chair. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Reid started toward the steps leading out of the bullpen.
"Relax," Morgan told him as Reid walked by his desk.
Reid didn't acknowledge the comment as he climbed the steps and crossed over to his supervisor's office. He knocked on the open door, and entered as Hotch beckoned him inside. As Reid walked into the office, Hotch stood up from his chair.
"Have a seat," Hotch told the younger agent, gesturing to the chair he had just vacated. "I sent in your evaluation this morning. I'd like to share it with you."
"Is that allowed?" Reid asked nervously, as he took slow steps toward the older agent.
Hotch allowed himself one of his rare smiles while he was at work. "It's not usually how it goes, but there are no policies saying I can't show you the evaluation. Once it's placed in your file it becomes available to you anyway," Hotch told him.
Reid slowly sat down in the chair and started reading the file that was open on the screen.
It is my opinion that Agent Reid has shown an above average performance in his first sixty days as an agent. He listens to and observes his fellow agents while out in the field. When he is unsure of or doesn't know something, he is not afraid to ask questions. Also, despite the fact that he has been hesitant to share insights and has shown hesitancy in addressing groups, those areas have shown improvement over the course of his time with the BAU. His mistakes have been minor and he has evaluated every instance and learned from it, thus making himself a better agent. Agent Reid has proved himself to be a valuable member of this team since his initial case.
The evaluation went on to list several of those contributions, including his warning about Carmichael's presence before the man had opened fire on them in the tailor shop in Bangor. Reaching the end of the evaluation, Reid looked up at his training agent.
"Thanks," the young doctor said, wanting to say more but not sure how to put what he was feeling inside into words.
"There's no need to thank me," Hotch told him. "You've put in the hard work the last couple of months. All I did was put it into words and I'm hoping that seeing the contributions you have made to our cases there in black and white, might help you realize that you are a valuable member of this team."
"I still can't handle seeing a dead body well," Reid replied, thinking of their last case.
Though he hadn't retreated from the scene or gotten sick while there, he had felt nauseous the entire time. When they had left the scene, the young genius had been glad that he had manage to keep lunch down. That hadn't lasted long though. He had been going back to the station with Hotch and Morgan and they hadn't gotten far before Reid was insisting that Morgan pull the SUV over. The dark-skinned agent hadn't questioned the request, and Reid had managed to climb from the vehicle before losing lunch on the side of the road.
"Give it time," Hotch told him. "You've made progress."
"Do you really think I can do this job?"
"I know you can do this job. The question is if you still want to do this job."
"Yes, I do," Reid replied, without hesitation, surprising even himself.
"Good. Then how about you go out there and put in some work before the team briefing. Gideon's finishing getting details from the Virginia State Police on a possible case."
"Yes, sir," Reid replied, vacating Hotch's chair as he got to his feet.
Feeling more confident then he had only a few minutes ago, Reid left the office and headed down to the bullpen. Even seeing Hudson sitting at the desk adjacent to his own wasn't enough to dampen his spirits. He just couldn't let the older profiler get to him. He was here to do a job, and Hudson and he didn't have to like each other to do that job. It didn't mean he didn't want his teammate's approval; he just wasn't going to let Hudson's disapproval stop him from doing his job.
A half-hour later though, Reid's high spirit was starting to dim. Hudson had thrown a not so veiled barb in his direction when he had asked Morgan a question. Morgan had ignored Hudson and answered his question, but Reid hadn't been able to dismiss it so easily. He had debated on seeking out the safety of Nichols office, which he often did when he wanted to escape from Hudson, but he hadn't yet reached that point and he wasn't even certain Nichols was in his office. Thankfully, Hudson had just left to go find some files he needed reference to. Reid was trying to concentrate on the paper work when the team's computer specialist came into the bullpen.
Just like he had previous years, Nichols was currently organizing a secret Santa for the fast approaching holiday. As the team was supposed to have the entire week of Christmas off, that left seven days until their last day before Christmas. Nichols had informed them yesterday that they would be picking names today. He had already stopped by Hotch's office, and as Gideon always insisted on taking the last name, Nichols had headed for the bullpen.
"Your turn, Junior," Nichols said, holding out the small paper lunch bag that he had put the names of the team members into.
"I thought I told you I didn't want to participate," Reid replied, looking up at Nichols.
Although Reid had continued to adjust to being a part of the team over the past month and a half by being more active in team discussions, he had yet to completely overcome his inherent nervousness around his teammates. Prompting him to speak was still occasionally necessary, especially after Hudson or Morgan gave him a hard time about stating random facts or teased him about answering a question that had been rhetorical.
Outside of the cases they worked, the young genius tended to keep to himself unless someone attempted to have a conversation with him. Though he would participate in a card game on the way back from a case, or engage Gideon in a game of chess, Reid never went out with them after work hours. The only exception to that had been the dinner party the Hotchners had held for the team the Friday before Thanksgiving, but even then Reid had been reluctant to attend, and had kept to himself while there. Though Reid never volunteered personal information, Nichols figured he probably knew more about the young genius than most of his teammates, as he had gotten Reid to join him and his family for dinner on several occasions and had found that the younger agent would open up some if asked questions.
"You did, but I decided I wasn't taking no for an answer, just like with the dinner invitation for Christmas Day. Vanessa and I decided you can't spend the entire day alone so barring you flying out to Las Vegas to spend the holiday with your mother, you better be at my house come four o'clock on Christmas or I'm coming to find you. Remember, not only does the bureau keep track of everyone's location while they are on leave, which I have access to, but I can also check plane reservations without too much trouble, along with bus and train reservations, car rentals and track your cell phone and credit and debit card usage if need be. I also know where you live."
"Do you know what the word 'no' means?" Reid asked.
"Sure I do, I just refuse to accept it as an answer and feel free to tell me all about which parts of speech it can be used as, its origin and any other obscure facts that you might know. I'm not Morgan, I will sit here patiently until you spout out all that information and still insist that you pick a name," Nichols told him, shaking the paper bag that he was still holding out in front of the younger agent.
"What can I say?" Morgan commented from his own desk, having been listening to the exchange. "English class was never exactly my favorite subject and that included vocabulary. Hey Reid, what is the definition of the word patient?"
"You definitely wouldn't find a picture of yourself next the word," Reid responded, actually realizing that Morgan was trying to set him up. The response elicited a smile from Morgan and a laugh from Nichols.
Nichols shook the bag again, and with a sigh, Reid put his hand into the bag. He couldn't decide what would be worse. Drawing Hudson's name, who wouldn't appreciate any gift from him, regardless of what it was or drawing Gideon's name. He would have no idea what to buy the unit chief. Even though the idea of this was that the giving would be done secretly, Reid wasn't naive enough to think that would actually happen.
~These things never remain secret long, ~ Reid thought, as he pulled a slip of paper out of the bag. Unfolding it, he looked at the name and was relieved to see Nichols name on the paper. ~At least he'll pretend he likes the gift even if he doesn't, ~ Reid thought.
"You didn't pull your own name did you?" Nichols asked.
Reid shook his head.
"Good," Nichols said, turning to Morgan "Your turn, Morgan," the computer specialist said holding out the paper bag.
"Do you come in here wearing an elf hat on the last day before Christmas break too?" Morgan asked, as he reached into the bag. He wasn't quite feeling the Christmas mood yet but he was willing to humor his teammate.
"You dress up as Santa Claus and I will happily come in here as one of your elves," Nichols replied.
"The only way that is ever happening is if I'm drunk," Morgan replied, opening the slip of paper to reveal the name.
"That could be arranged," Hudson said, coming up behind Morgan, a stack of files in his hands. "You in a Santa suit would make great blackmail pictures."
"You wouldn't live to use them," Morgan replied without missing a beat as he read the name on the paper. "Nichols, did you rig this thing?"
"Yeah, I only put my name in it," the computer tech replied, holding the bag out to Hudson as the other agent put the files he was carrying down on his desk.
Hudson pulled out a piece of paper, opened it and groaned. "He did rig this thing," he said as he sat down in his chair.
"This place definitely needs some Christmas cheer," was Nichols response as he took the paper bag and the remaining two slips of paper up the steps, heading for Gideon's office.
"I'll find my Christmas cheer when I am on the plane and heading for Chicago," Morgan replied. He was flying home for Christmas this year, and was looking forward to seeing his mother and sisters.
"Oh, I plan on having you in the Christmas spirit before then," Nichols replied, as he crossed to the door of Gideon's office.
As the office door was shut, Nichols knocked on the door. Hearing Gideon's call for him to enter, he opened the door. Gideon looked up from his computer as Nichols walked in.
"Last two slips, Boss," Nichols said, as he crossed over to the desk.
"Go ahead and pick one out," Gideon told him.
Nichols reached into the bag and pulled out one of the two slips. He tossed the paper bag and remaining slip down on the desk. As Nichols unfolded the piece of paper, Gideon removed the last slip from the bag.
"Did you end up with your own name?" Gideon asked, unfolding the slip of paper he held.
"No," Nichols said, as he read Morgan's name on the slip of paper he held in his hands. "You?"
"No. Though shopping for my own gift would have been appealing," Gideon replied.
"Yeah, now why doesn't that surprise me," Nichols said. "I'll see ya in a bit in the conference room, Boss," he said, giving Gideon a quick wave as he headed back out of the office.
"There seems to be absolutely no connection to the five crime scenes," Hudson commented, as he and Morgan claimed a pool table. He placed his fries and glass of soda on a nearby table and then started pulling the balls from below the table and placing them on top.
The Virginia State Police had asked for the BAU's help with six murders at five different houses, in nearby Catlett, Virginia. The medical examiner had put time of death for all six victims, five females and one male, to be within four hours of each other. After the team briefing that morning, Hudson, Morgan, Gideon and Hotch had headed for Catlett to profile the scenes leaving Nichols and Reid back at the BAU to start on victimology. After profiling all five scenes, they had met back up at the conference room to share information. It had been seven o'clock when Gideon had finally let them go for the night, none of them feeling as if they had really made in progress on the case. Though Gideon had given them an eight o'clock start time for the next day, Morgan and Hudson had headed to The Shield Bar and Grill to grab something to eat and unwind before heading home.
"There has to be something," Morgan commented, placing his own glass on the table and walking to the nearby rack two get two cues. Selecting two he rejoined his friend. "Despite the different causes of deaths, how the bodies were found and the weapons used, Catlett only has less than three hundred people. Six deaths in the course of one night is more than just coincidence."
"What you don't remember the exact statistics, Dr. Reid supplied us with?" Hudson asked, his voice laced with sarcasm as he took one of the cue sticks from Morgan.
"No, but if you would like, I can give him a call and ask him to remind you of the specifics," Morgan replied easily.
"You wouldn't dare," Hudson replied, even though he wasn't so sure of that. He placed the cue stick on the table and reached for the white plastic triangle. When he spoke again, it was an attempt to change the topic. "I thought we came here to unwind," he commented, starting to rack the balls.
"You're right," Morgan said, knowing eight a.m. would come awfully fast. "I can't believe my bad luck in drawing a name for this Secret Santa Nichols insisted we do," Morgan commented, changing the topic.
"Yours can't be as bad as the name I got," Hudson commented as he carefully lifted the triangle off of the pool table. "Go ahead and break."
"I drew Hotch's name. What am I supposed to get the guy, another tie?" Morgan commented as he lined his stick up with the cue ball.
Morgan struck the white ball with his cue stick, sending it rolling across the table. A solid crack was heard as the cue ball hit the others, scattering them in different directions. One of the striped balls fell into the corner pocket.
"I'd gladly take Hotch," Hudson said as Morgan surveyed the table for his next shot. "I ended up pulling Reid's name. How do you think a one way ticket to Vegas would go over?"
Morgan gave a small laugh as he lined up and called his shot. "Not well," he told his co-worker. "Not to mention, I think everyone would figure out who it was from."
"Everyone eventually figures out who has whose names in these things anyways," Hudson said, as anther striped ball fell into the predicted pocket. "Do they sell muzzles for humans?"
"Yeah, as bondage gear. Not sure that's the kind of message you want to be sending though," Morgan commented.
Hudson gave a little shudder in response to Morgan's comment as the other agent missed the shot. Hudson surveyed the table for an open shot. "Want to switch names?" he asked, before calling a shot on one of the solid colored balls.
"That's against the rules," Morgan said, feigning shock.
"So what, it's not like anyone else has to know," Hudson said, as the ball he was shooting for dropped into the side pocket. "As much as a stiff that Hotch comes off as, shopping for a Christmas gift for him could be fun," he added. Hudson called and started t line up his next shot. "Besides, I can only see me buying a Christmas gift for Reid ending up in me getting into hot water with Gideon, though I suppose sprucing up Reid's wardrobe might be fun."
"I'll switch names with you," Morgan said, as Hudson missed the shot. Though not having to think of something to get Hotch was a nice perk, he had a feeling that not letting Hudson buy a gift for Reid would be the best for all concerned. ~Especially for Reid,~ Morgan thought, calling his shot. "Finding something for Reid that he might actually like has got to be easier than shopping for Hotch."
"The only thing I want to buy for Reid is something that will get him out of my life. You don't know how hard it is for me to stop myself from wanting to put my hands around his throat sometimes just to shut him up when he starts going off about whatever it is he's telling us about, trying to remind us just how smart he is and how stupid we are."
"Okay, I will admit his rambling can get a bit annoying at times," Morgan admitted as play went back to Hudson. He had interrupted the younger agent on more than one occasion over the past month, though he had learned to be more discreet about it. No more yelling "shut-up" at him loud enough for the whole bullpen to hear. "However, you're taking things way too personally. Reid isn't trying to make anyone look stupid. I really think his just trying to share information that he finds interesting."
"Like I really want to know the origin of a potato chip," Hudson said, as he hit the cue ball at an awkward angle sending the white ball in a direction that was nowhere near his intended target.
Morgan chuckled thinking of Reid's tangent from earlier that day. Hudson had been eating potato chips when they had walked into the conference room this afternoon upon returning from Catlett. He had mentioned something about wanting fries but that the potato chips were going to have to do for now. That comment had sent Reid into a spiel about how the origin of potato chips was linked with french fries.
Morgan nodded in the direction of the nearby table which held their drinks and a basket of fries that Hudson had ordered. "Your fries aren't too thick, are they?" Morgan asked lightly, referring to what Reid had told them about George Crum having created potato chips when a customer at the restaurant he was working at had complained the fries were too thick.
"Not at all funny. Nor was asking Reid questions and encouraging him this afternoon."
"What? I was genuinely interested this time around," Morgan replied, watching the stripe ball he had hit roll across the table toward the intended pocket.
"You encourage him once and he isn't ever going to get the hint to just keep his mouth shut."
"Yeah, well maybe that isn't the best message to give him. He's finally starting to feel comfortable offering information during our briefings and discussions without encouragement and whether you like him or not, you can't deny that the information he provides us is often useful in solving our cases."
Hudson muttered something that Morgan didn't understand as he lined up his next shot. Not sure he wanted to know what had been said, Morgan didn't ask his friend to repeat himself and instead surveyed the table and tried to figure out the best way to make an attempt at the last striped ball on the table.