"I'd like it put on the record that I morally object to this."
"Shut up, Reid."
"Morgan! Don't tell him off like that."
"Prentiss, he's going to do it either way. What's the point complaining?"
"You can't morally object," came a second feminine voice.
"Can so."
"It's not immoral," JJ retorted patiently.
"The way you're making me is."
"Now you're just being silly."
"Fine. Furiously object, then."
"Furiously object? Is that a thing?"
"It is!"
"I don't think so."
Reid pouted at an exasperated JJ. Morgan was dragging him along behind a far too eager Garcia and Prentiss. Hotch and Rossi were nowhere to be seen. Sensible men. Reid wished they had told him that they were disappearing.
"You know you'll love it, Pretty Boy."
"You just want to make fun of me, Derek Morgan."
Garcia turned around, hands on hips and glared at them both.
"There will be optimal participation and there will be no making fun of anybody. Is that clear?" she demanded with a wagging finger.
Morgan and Reid muttered affirmative in reply. Reid looking between the two of them warily and Morgan looking like someone had taken something from him.
"What was that?"
Who knew that Garcia could make her voice sound like steel? Both men shuddered as Prentiss and JJ exchanged giggles behind their fists.
"Yes, Garcia," they repeated loudly in unison.
The perky blonde's frown turned into a beaming smile as she jumped forwards.
"Fantastic! I will meet you all at Rossi's!"
Ah ha! So much for the two elder profilers escaping from this torment. Suddenly, Reid felt a little bit better about the situation.
Reid looked around the presented room in dismay. The floor had been cleared, furniture pushed back, and there was a tray of freshly made, still steaming, snacks on the coffee table. The smell made his mouth water, we're those jam tarts. The genius shook his head. They were not going to suck him into this with sugary goodness.
His nose caught the sharp smell of perfectly brewed coffee.
"Why the long face, kid?" Rossi queried, setting the pot next to the tarts. "And don't worry, I filled a whole bowl of sugar just for you."
"Why are you encouraging this?" Reid demanded with a pout, determinedly not looking at the coffee or the assorted treats.
Rossi cocked an eyebrow and smirked knowingly.
"Because it's fun," the older profiler claimed, straightening a tray of his homemade ravioli and 'sampling' a tart. "Want one?" he added temptingly.
Reid gave him a suspicious look.
"It'll be fun," Rossi assured him, patting him on the shoulder. "Just try not to dislocate anything."
Because that was reassuring.
"Let's spin!" Prentiss announced loudly, holding the brightly coloured spinner aloft.
She had won the short straw to spin first. It had the added benefit of allowing her to scope out the competition. Twister made her feel particularly ruthless. Reid recalled the story she had told him about a particularly terrifying sounding game she had played with her old teammates. Somehow, all of them but her had ended up injured. She grinned predatorily at him.
Reid gulped.
He wasn't the first one out on that first game. Surprisingly, it was JJ. Though she had managed to constrict herself to a corner of the mat. An easy mistake that she was kicking herself over.
Reid was currently pressed against Morgan with Rossi arching over them. The man was good. He'd managed to spread his body out perfectly to assure himself of optimal balance with plenty of options of other colours.
"Left hand green," Prentiss called over to Rossi.
Well, most colours. Green wasn't one of them. Reid thought he heard something cracking as the author tried in vain to twist himself before slipping.
It was "Right foot red," that had got him unfortunately.
It was just before Morgan lost too. And who knew Hotch was that flexible? Somehow, Reid never suspected it and by the looks of it, neither did anyone else as They looked on in awe at their triumphant boss. It was extremely satisfying winning that first game.
"My eye is right there," JJ warned Prentiss as the black-haired woman tried to move her left hand to the nearest yellow circle.
"Too bad," Prentiss retorted. "Not my problem."
JJ glared at her.
Had he mentioned that Prentiss was particularly ruthless when it came to this game?
"No injures," Hotch commanded calmly from his position as Spinner on the couch. "Accidental or deliberate."
"Just suck all the fun out of it, why don't you?" Prentiss muttered darkly.
Maybe he should deliberately flub his next move. Reid rather liked having unbroken bones.
Morgan was wearing too much aftershave Reid determined from his up close and personal position in the man's armpit. Or deodorant. Either way, it was rather overwhelming and made his nose itch.
Reid had lost the opportunity to be the Spinner for the third round. They were all conspiring against him, enjoying watching him contort his award body into weird shapes far too much.
"Left hand green," JJ instructed from the side, a disgruntled Prentiss and Rossi next to her.
The two had managed to bring each other down after a fierce battle over a green spot, Rossi deliberately shifting his weight to block her.
"Aw, come on woman!" Morgan complained. "Don't block my hands like that!"
"All's fair in Love, War and Twister," Garcia claimed with a triumphant look.
She was surprisingly flexible.
"You shouldn't talk. You were the first to go," Morgan said accusing at Rossi's taunts of Morgan being bested by Hotch in this fourth game. "You can't talk about flexibility."
"I can't believe Spence is that flexible," JJ murmured admiringly.
"I'll have you know that I do yoga," Rossi announced, nose in the air. "I'm perfectly flexible, I just don't bend like that," he said, waving his hands at the tangle Prentiss and Reid had gotten themselves into.
"No one wants to see him bend like that," Morgan muttered to a smirking JJ as they both eyed the oddly erotic position the other two agents had managed to get themselves into.
Apparently, he didn't say it softly enough if the glare the Italian man shot him.
"I have to admit, the boy genius is good. Hope Prentiss appreciates it," Rossi commented.
Hotch rolled his eyes despairingly. This whole night had been one innuendo after another. He really shouldn't have been surprised.
"Can you please spin it, Garcia," Reid pleaded shakily, arms trembling.
"We have got to work on your upper body strength, Pretty Boy" Morgan teased, crouching down next to him, finger raised threateningly over his ribs.
"Don't you dare, Derek Morgan," shrieked Garcia, waving the spinner at him.
"Please spin?"
"C'mon, Baby Girl. His ribs are right there," Morgan coaxed. "We know Prentiss is going to win anyway."
"We don't know that!"
"Guys,"
"Spoilsport," Morgan teased but obediently retracted his finger and went to settle next to the Tech Analyst.
As soon as he turned his back to the pair, to straighten up, there was a yelp followed by a crashing noise and Prentiss' extremely loud swears. Most of them in French and Italian if Rossi's impressed look was anything to go by.
"Reid!"
"It wasn't my fault! I warned you!" he all but wailed from his sprawled position on top of Prentiss.
"God, Reid. Do you have any padding on that butt of yours?" Prentiss demanded, shoving him off her.
He slid off with a whine and a pathetically sad look directed at her.
"We'll take that as a tie," Garcia determined before Reid could employ his full pout.
"What? No way! I won!" Prentiss claimed in an outraged tone.
"You fell," Morgan pointed out.
"Reid fell," she corrected. "It just happened to be on top of me."
"Can I be the spinner now?" Reid complained, rubbing his side. Prentiss wasn't exactly comfortable to land on either!
"It think you've been injured enough," JJ agreed, passing him the spinner.
"New game!" Rossi announced.
"Oh, I hope I end up all over my Chocolate Thunder."
"You and me both, Pretty Mama."
