"Now I think we are friends, this girl and me. On her birthday it was she who gave a gift - to me." -Markus Zusak, the Book Thief
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT CAN'T BE FIXED?" Penelope Garcia slammed her beringed hands onto the counter, sending the bangles around her wrists spinning and clattering at the violent action.
The barely-out-of-adolescence young man flinched backwards at the shrill voice, eyes wide and stuttering in response, "I-I d-d-don't know what t-to t-tell you, m-m-miss. The entire system is completely fried from the inside out. I've never seen anything like it before."
Garcia squinted at him in irate silence until he squirmed. "I'm sorry, did you get that little spiel from a script to a trashed TV show pilot about computer hacking or are you actually a walking geek stereotype in real life?"
"Um… I-I d-don't know...?" He managed to sputter, blinking rapidly.
Garcia rubbed her temples and sighed deeply before visibly getting herself under control. "Listen, honey, I'm sorry I yelled at you before. I thought you were gonna be my technology wizard, my Merlin of modem repair, but clearly you are only an incompetent if well-meaning Inspector Lestrade when I clearly need a Sherlock."
He stared at her blankly.
"Oh no. Oh dear" Garcia shook her head sadly. "Oh my sweet child, if you didn't understand a single reference that I just used, then you don't deserve to touch a computer. And I say that with love." He blinked, trying to decide whether to be offended or not.
Garcia didn't wait for him to figure it out and dug around into her enormous leopard-print purse and fished out a list written in sparkly gel pen on psychedelic stationery. She slid it across the counter. "Lucky for you, young Gregory -"
"Uh, m-my name is Brian -"
She gently cupped his cheek. "No, it's not." She said sympathetically. He frowned, confused. She smiled patronizingly and patted his head. "Okay now, Greg, lucky for our mutual safety and sanity, I have prepared for the eventuality of your inevitable inferiority and wrote down what I need to make the repairs on my own." She tapped the list with one acrylic nail. "You can read, right?"
Brian-AKA-Greg picked up the list and stared at it. He glanced back up at her nervously. "I'll, um, go see what we have in the, um, stockroom. You can, um, wait… here… I guess?" Then he scurried off faster than she thought possible.
Garcia watched him go. "Poor baby." Then she spun on one hot pink stiletto heel and began to peruse the tech-repair storefront equipment at a businesslike pace. She was busy dissecting a computer with her mind when the bell above the front door jingled cheerfully to announce the arrival of a new customer.
A short huff of a sigh. "Why is it that every bloody time I come here, there's no one at the register?" A feminine voice muttered.
"You're probably better off on your own," Garcia called over her shoulder absently. "The new kid is kind of a joke. You just can't get good IT help these days." She turned around to face the other person with her most winning smile. She found herself looking at a young woman with the most impressively curly hair she'd ever seen on Caucasian person this side of the eighties, dressed in disappointingly plain colors.
"Oh, thanks." The young woman smiled back, and Garcia decided she could overlook some boring fashion choices in favor of a smile of such genuine warmth. "And you're absolutely right." She shrugged thin shoulders and sighed ruefully. "I'm ever so glad Ernie decided to keep this place open after he retired, but it's just not quite the same without him."
Garcia gasped, pleasantly surprised. "You know Ernie? I love Ernie!"
The woman laughed sweetly, and Garcia found she really enjoyed the sound. "Ernie was a godsend when I moved here from Britain and had to find a new electronics supplier."
"Oh, my new foreign friend, Lady Luck must have smiled upon your immigration to these United States because you definitely came to the right place." Garcia said grandly, before frowning in the direction of the stockroom door. "Although it seems both of us might need to blow this popsicle stand in favor of some actual quality service."
"You're probably right." The woman admitted. She shook her head. "Blast it all, and I really needed some new shielded cables today. My electromagnetic compatibility is all out of whack on my PC."
Garcia's manicured fingers flew to cover her painted-pink lips. "Oh my gravy goodness, what new friend factory created your model?" The woman's eyebrows lifted. "You build computers?" Garcia clarified.
"Oh," She laughed, pushing her mass of hair behind her shoulders. "Yes, I do."
"Just for fun or is it your job?"
"Hmm." After a moment of contemplation, she shrugged. "Both, I suppose. It started as a necessity that grew into enjoyment."
"Oh, what a beautifully vague story about the resilience of the human spirit and the triumph of modern technology." Garcia sighed dreamily. The woman laughed without a hint of mockery. Garcia beamed brighter. "Okay, I must simply have your number so we can get together and talk shop over a cup of caffeine."
"Oh, you are speaking my language." The British woman grinned. "That sounds lovely. Hold on a second…" She patted her pockets searchingly. "I had to get a new number recently because someone tried to hack me, can you believe it? Anyway, I haven't got it memorized just yet. Here it is!" She retrieved a slip of paper.
Garcia snapped a picture of the paper with her smartphone. "Oh that's so funny, I actually am here at this shop because I work for the FBI as a technical analyst and my entire system shut down following a digital trail." She paused. "I don't know if I should have told you that." She admitted.
The woman laughed again. "Oh, don't fret," She reassured Garcia. "I'm a librarian now, but I used to work for the British government and I quite understand the endless and exhausting maze of protocol and classification."
Garcia just gazed at her for a moment. "This may be too soon, but I think I love you."
The woman blinked in surprise, then laughed delightedly. "You must be the most colorful person I have ever met, and believe me, I have met some very colorful people." She said bluntly, but not unkindly. Then she added, "By the way, those shoes are absolutely smashing! Where did you get them?"
Garcia beamed as she basked in the dawning rays of female friendship. She stuck out her hand. "Penelope Garcia." She introduced herself.
The young woman took her hand and shook it firmly with a bright smile.
"Hermione Granger."
"Yoohoo, Doctor Who!" Reid glanced up immediately, grateful for any distraction from the tedium of doing paperwork (apparently being able to read ridiculously fast did not translate into being able to write ridiculously fast). He was mildly surprised to see Garcia prancing her way over to him in all her usual multicolored glory.
"Hey, Garcia, what's up?"
She leaned against his desk and propped her chin up on her hand. "Oh, nothing, just wanted to say to my favorite nerdy birdy." She winked playfully.
Reid smiled and shook his head at his friend and coworker. "You do know I'm a profiler, right?"
Garcia immediately stood up straight and pouted, hands planted on her hips. "And I usually love you for it, but sometimes I hate you for it. Do you know that?"
He merely raised his eyebrows. This was not the first time Garcia had expressed her frustration on the team using their profiling skills on her, intentionally or not, and it wouldn't be the last.
"Oh alright." Garcia dramatically slumped back down to lean on his desk again. Then she beamed at him, cheerful as ever. "What are you doing for your two days off?"
"Hey baby girl, what's this? You stepping out on me?" Derek Morgan stood up from his desk and came around to sling an arm around Garcia's shoulders. He pressed his free hand against his heart. "You're gonna break my heart, doll."
"I never break my toys." Garcia flirted.
"My two days off?" Reid ignored their antics. "On the increasingly diminishing chance that we don't get called on a case, I'll probably just hang out at home. Read some books. Work on my latest paper."
"Whoa, slow down, party animal." Morgan muttered sarcastically.
"Yes, yes, yes, that all sounds just adorably scholarly and sad." Garcia waved her hand dismissively. "But what if your most favorite person in the entire world, your own fairy godmother of social interaction Penelope Garcia, wanted just the teensiest smidgen of your time?"
Reid's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you want, Garcia?"
"Probably wants to marathon one of those weird tv shows they watch and check for plot holes." Emily Prentiss joined the conversation by rolling her desk chair in their direction.
"Uh that would be incorrect, my statuesque seductress." Garcia said imperiously. "Reid and I do not watch tv shows that contain plot holes because that's just sloppy script writing and it is not to be borne."
"Wait, can you just tell me what you want me to do this weekend?" Reid interrupted before the conversation could derail again. Whenever Garcia was involved, you never knew what fifty topics would be covered in the span of a few sentences.
"Ah yes, straight to the heart of the matter, that's why I love you Reid. Always so straightforward." Garcia said graciously.
"Um, sorry Garcia, but have you met Reid?" Morgan interrupted incredulously. Emily stifled a laugh.
"I can be straightforward!" Reid protested, glaring at his friends.
"Yes, my little snuggly duckling, of course you can," Garcia cooed reassuringly. Reid made a face at his new nickname. Morgan snickered until Emily kicked him with one long leg.
"Ow - woman, why are you so abusive to me?"
"Oh, woman up, why don't you."
"Darlings, please, I'm trying to have a civilized conversation with our doctoral colleague." Garcia reprimanded the bickering pair absently, adjusting her bright fuchsia eyeglasses and piercing him with her gaze.
Reid suddenly, irrationally wondered if this is what a goldfish felt like when the family cat stared at them through the glass of the fishbowl.
"Now, Spencer - can I call you Spencer?"
"Garcia, you've known me for years, of course you can -"
"Buono. Grazie caro. Now, Spencer, you are a healthy, handsome, virile, eligible young gentleman, are you not?" Garcia said, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
Emily wrinkled her nose. "Virile? I'm sorry I ever joined this conversation." Morgan nodded, looking like he couldn't decide if he was amused or weirded out.
"Uh, sure?" Spencer replied awkwardly.
"Of course you are!" Garcia declared. "And yet, your forays into the deliciously dangerous world of romance are few and far between. Which is simply preposterous." She threw her hands into the air, unbalancing Morgan who fell backward with a rather unmanly yelp. "Preposterous, I say!"
"Um - thank you? I think?"
"Awww," Garcia patted his head delicately with a benevolent smile. "You're so welcome." He smiled back, a little unsure. "Anyway, I stand by my earlier statement that it is very preposterous, but less so when I take into account that obviously not just any old floozy that waltzes past you in high heels and carrying a book is worthy of your little genius heart."
"Floozy?" Emily commented.
"High heels?" Morgan focused on.
"Why does she have to have a book?" Reid demanded. The other three just looked at him. He shrugged sheepishly, "Okay maybe that was a fair assessment."
"See I'm not so bad at profiling, either!" Garcia crowed.
"Yeah, that was some Sherlock-level deduction, baby girl." Morgan teased.
Garcia spun around and fixed him with a keen look. Morgan smiled charmingly. "Normally I would verbally eviscerate you for being so condescending, my macho choco-taco," Garcia began true to form, "but I am so proud you just made a literary reference beyond Kurt Vonnegut or Chuck Palahniuk, however elementary - ha! See what I did there? - that I'll let your slip of the tongue stay just that. Don't squander my mercy, subject."
"You are a beacon of beauty and grace, fair lady." Morgan groveled.
Reid seriously contemplated a quick getaway if his flirtatious friends continued distracting each other but unfortunately the heat-seeking missile otherwise know as the USS Garcia had him in her sights again. "Now, my little genderbent Rapunzel stuck up in his tower of intellect and insecurity, I may have found you a princess to climb up those gloriously greasy locks and save you from damselhood."
"Progressive." Prentiss approved Garcia's spin on the fairytale classic.
"Genderbent?" Morgan asked in morbid fascination.
"Greasy?!" Reid said indignantly, touching his hair self-consciously.
"Thank you, I'll explain later, and no offense." Garcia answered them patiently. "And as usual, you are all missing the glaringly obvious point!" She said, exasperated. They all looked back at her blankly. "I found the perfect girl for Reid!" She squealed, hopping in place and clapping her hands delightedly.
Three pairs of eyes widened and blinked rapidly in shock.
"Really?" Another feminine voice said excitedly. They all turned in the direction of the voice as JJ walked over, eyes gleaming with the promise of office gossip. "The perfect girl for Spence?"
"Um…" Reid spoke up hesitantly.
"Omigosh, she is just so cute, and smart, and she likes building computers!" Garcia gushed to the other blonde.
"A cute computer nerd?" Morgan chuckled.
Emily promptly whacked him on the arm. "Hello, sexist stereotype?"
Morgan opened his mouth, then paused and shrugged. "Yeah I deserved that one."
"You deserve all of them." Emily said drily.
"Garcia…" Reid tried again.
"What's she look like? Do you have a picture?" JJ pressed.
"Well, she's brunette, and -"
"Garcia!" The chatter stopped as Reid stood up with a raised voice. Garcia blinked owlishly at him, and he softened his next words with a grateful smile. "I'm sure she's great, but I'm not interested."
"What?" Garcia looked like he had just dropkicked a kitten into a pile of rabid dogs. "Why?"
"Yeah, hang on, kid, it can't hurt to at least meet the girl." Morgan chipped in, ever the loyal sidekick to Garcia's questing heroine archetype.
Reid shrugged. "I don't want to meet anyone." He said simply, smiling as Hermione's lovely features filled his mind. Anyone else.
"Actually, Reid, I don't see why you shouldn't give it a shot." Emily said thoughtfully. "And I say this with love, but after all, when was the last time you went on a date?"
"Oh, Spence, she sounds so nice!" JJ pleaded.
Reid put up his hands to stop any further persuading. He smiled and shook his head. "Listen, guys, I know you mean well, but I don't need to be set up on a date. I'm perfectly happy with where I'm at and who I know right now."
Garcia looked ready to cry or maybe even physically attack him, but Morgan stopped her by touching his hand to her arm. He regarded the younger man's earnest face seriously and nodded slowly. "Alright, kid."
Reid nodded back with a half-grin. "Thanks, Morgan." His phone buzzed once and he flipped it open, scanning the screen before looking up with a bigger grin. "Sorry, guys, I gotta go. I'll see you in about 60 hours, okay?"
He stuffed the rest of his paperwork in his bag then with an uncharacteristic jaunty salute, walked out, whistling a little off-key but happy tune.
As Prentiss and JJ went back to their respective work spaces and Garcia turned to Morgan to console her wounded matchmaking pride, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi stood on the landing outside their offices looking down at their team, thinking about what they had just seen.
"Interesting." Hotch murmured, his mind carefully examining one of Reid's statements. I'm perfectly happy with where I'm at and who I know… who I know…
"Is it?" Rossi asked mildly. "I'm not really interested in what just happened at all. But I am interested in that glass of scotch we were just discussing."
Hotch smiled. "I'm right behind you, Dave." And he followed his old friend into his office without another thought to who Reid might know.
"Sam and Patrick looked at me. And I looked at them. And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that's all you can ever ask from a friend." - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Author's Note: *happy sigh* I love writing Garcia and the team. It's so much fun. Anyway, this was just a fluffy little chapter to hold you guys over until I get the next bit written. I promise the next one will be full of Reid/Hermione interaction. Sorry I made you wait so long for this update; me and my family have been dealing with a lot of craziness recently. Craziness is not conducive to down time for creative writing, much to my endless chagrin.
Also, all you Harry Potter fans should check out my new story Aftershocks, featuring the one and only Padma Patil. It's worth it, I promise!
Review review review!