Hi! Enjoy!
Chapter Nine:
Prentiss gathered everyone in the conference room after lunch.
"We're on stand-down until after January sixth," she said. "Keep consulting remotely. We will fly out if there is an urgent need as determined personally by the Director."
Prentiss gestured to Lydia.
"After a few angry phone calls, Agent Lydia Chase from the CIA is on loan with us for the foreseeable future. I did not a have a vote in the matter, but I have been assured that Chase can be relied upon and trusted."
"What is your background?" Lewis asked.
"I am an information specialist," she said. "My main job was threat assessment. I studied at Kyoto University and have a degree in sociology."
Rossi watched her. "You look like someone who has a lot of stories."
"That I look forward to sharing due time."
"We have a computer hooked up in the bullpen right now," Prentiss said.
"I'll save Reid some awkwardness, I'm the one behind the gifts. I had access to the building one day and left a gift in his mug. His father was a good friend of my dad's and I just thought I'd have some fun."
"She really had me guessing for a while," Reid said as he turned red.
"Let's get to work," Prentiss said.
…
"I thought about getting you a rabbit," Lydia said as they packed up for the day.
"Why a rabbit?" Reid asked.
"They know how to keep busy while you're away and can be litter box-trained."
"I know, they're also extremely intelligent and can learn basic commands."
"I thought getting you something living would be a step too far."
Reid smiled. "Thank you."
Lydia put on her jacket. Everyone else had left for the day.
"Did you drive?" Lydia asked.
"Yes," he said.
"I'll walk you to your car."
"Sure."
They got in the elevator.
"I didn't plan on becoming part of your team," she said. "If you want to put the brakes on things, I understand."
"No," he said. "Let's try to make it work. No moments of affection while on the job, and we should see a counselor regularly to keep it by the books. We'll try to make it work."
"That sounds fine to me."
They walked to the garage. There was a bright light up ahead.
"It's almost feast of the three kings," Lydia said with a smile.
Reid followed the light. Under the light was a classic car. A 1949 Buick Roadmaster convertible to be exact. Like the one from Rain Man.
"Merry Christmas Reid!"
The team gathered around him.
"How?" Reid asked.
"It was a good thing you were distracted," Lewis said. "Otherwise, you would have noticed we were all in a group chat most of the day figuring out what to get you. You gave all of us such nice gifts, we didn't know what to get you."
"Until we learned more from Lydia," J.J. said.
"I don't have the resources to get you a car," Lydia said with a sheepish grin. "But I did ask Rossi if he knew of how to get one if I do well in the stock market one day."
"That's all it took," Rossi said. "We all chipped in. It was a Christmas miracle my guy had it in stock."
"And I got the paperwork expedited," Garcia said.
"All of the letters from your dad are in the glove box," Lydia said. "I have copies."
The car meant so much to him. It was a horrible representation of intelligence, but the movie resonated with him in a way few things did when he was that young.
"Lydia, you did all of this despite not knowing me," Reid said. "I hope I live up to the fantasy."
"Seeing how many lives you've saved over the last month, Spencer. You already do."
Reid stepped forward and kissed her passionately.
…
Nineteen years later:
Eve:
I "officially" stopped believing in Santa when I was eight. I overheard some kids talking on the bus and they explained how Santa wasn't real. I tried to explain how believing in Santa helped my dad save lives. The girl called my dad a loony toon, so I threw a punch and ended up in detention afterward. On the ride home my dad explained Santa is real for random people who need it the most. I knew Santa was a concept more than a person, and something to believe in no matter what.
I stopped at an overpass homeless people frequent. There, I passed out backpacks filled with food and warm clothes. There was a man in a corner. He doesn't want to approach me, even as he doesn't even have a warm coat on.
"I have a gift for you Carson," I said. I pulled a cube box wrapped in shiny blue paper.
Curious, Carson quickly took the box from me. He hastily ripped off the paper. It was a tiny plush Mickey doll. He hugs it close to himself. Something rattled in it. He opens the back of Mickey and finds a prescription.
"An address for a place for you to stay is on the bottle," I said.
Carson dashed into the darkness holding his toy and the drugs.
I quickly depart. My parents have been doing this for almost twenty years. They find people who need a little magic in their lives and play Santa, using the resources they have. Carson Ayer has bipolar schizophrenia and his sister has been trying to get ahold of him for months. It's a long shot that he'll take the drugs, but it's worth it. Anything to make someone's life better.
My dad only started to believe in Santa when he was forty-one years old. I guess the great thing about starting to believe that late is, he has never stopped.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
THE END
Author's Note:
This was fun! I didn't think I'd start another fan story, but this one leaped out of my fingers so easily. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy Holidays!