Reid entered the bullpen later than usual. Everyone from the BAU was already present. Reid hadn't meant to be late, but just as he had left his apartment building, he had been held up by someone who wanted Reid to sign for a letter. After the deliverer had left, Reid had opened the letter and fainted. Not wanting to call in sick, Reid had arrived at FBI Headquarters an hour and a half late.

Upon entering the bullpen, Reid absently said "Hi" to Morgan and Prentiss – ignoring their worried and, after realizing who he was, relieved expressions (which turned to worry once they noticed the blood on his face) – and walked towards Hotch's office.

Reid knocked and received permission to enter. Hotch was surprised when he saw Reid standing in the doorway, and he quickly stood. "Reid! We were worried about you. You're usually one of the first ones in." Taking a closer look at the doctor, Hotch's brow furrowed. "What happened to your forehead?"

Reid's hand moved towards his forehead and stumbled upon a small cut. He jerked back surprised, as though he had not yet noticed the wound. "I fainted this morning." At Hotch's shocked look, Reid elaborated. "I was just about to leave for work when someone brought a letter for me. I had to sign for it. When I read the letter, I either was shocked, stumbled, hit my head and lost consciousness, or I was shocked, fainted and hit my head. Given that I've never been much of a fainter, I think it's the first."

Hotch, ever practical, decided to take care of the issue at hand first. "Sit down," he waved in the direction of the chairs in front of Hotch's desk. He then took his first aid kit from a shelf and sat down in the other chair, adjusting its position slightly so that he could easily take care of Reid's head wound.

Hotch frowned at the wound after he had cleaned it. "It won't need stitches," he decided. "But it's still bleeding. Then again, scalp wounds do that. If it's still bleeding in an hour, I want you to go to the infirmary, alright?" After a moment of pause, he continued, "That also goes for showing signs of a concussion."

Reid frowned, but acquiesced

"Now, what's up with the letter? Something I can help you with?" Hotch hoped it was nothing bad.

"I need some time off," Reid said. "A lot of time off, actually. And I'm about to become a millionaire." Pausing for a second, Reid continued, "Oh! Can you recommend me a tailor? I'm going to need a suit."

Hotch was worried. Had someone died and was Reid about to inherit a fortune? "Reid, what's up?"

"Oh god! I have to find a date for the banquet!" Reid panicked.

Okay, so apparently no funeral. That was good. Hotch put his hand on Reid's arm.

"Reid, what is going on?" Hotch pressured.

By way of an answer, Reid handed Hotch a letter from his pocket.

Hotch could understand why Reid had fainted after reading the letter. Reid had, apparently, been awarded a Nobel Prize.

"I think I need November and December off, Hotch. I have to write a lecture and I have to find a date. How do you find a date? And I can't dance!"

Addressing the last concern first, Hotch informed Reid that any female team members would likely be happy to teach Reid how to dance. Reid looked somewhat relieved. Hotch decided to continue addressing concerns, because Reid would otherwise send himself and everyone around him into a frenzy.

"As for the tailor – I'd be happy to recommend you one. For the date.. You're not seeing anyone?" When Reid shook his head, Hotch continued, "I know Prentiss is often worrying about who to ask for her mother's parties. Perhaps you can offer to accompany her to one of those as a trade.

They continued in this vein for a few minutes – Reid came up with problems and Hotch came up with solutions. Then Hotch concluded, "I can get you an appointment with my tailor, if you'd like?"

Reid nodded. "That would be brilliant."

Hotch was glad that Reid had calmed down. "Alright. You should also ask Prentiss to recommend a few books on formal etiquette, things like that."

Reid nodded thoughtfully. That would probably be a good idea. "Are you telling the team?" Reid asked Hotch.

"I have to tell them that you are taking time off. Garcia will likely find out what you are doing, so I suggest you inform them yourself." Hotch paused. "And it won't be long before the names are formally announced. Garcia will extract her revenge if the world knows before she does, so.."

Reid nodded. "I'll tell them over lunch," he sighed.

INSERT LINE

The BAU had lunch in the conference room. Hotch had told everyone to be present for an informal announcement, so to speak. After everyone was sitting and the door was closed, Hotch called for everyone to pay attention to Reid.

Reid didn't really enjoy all the attention, of course, so he tried to spit it out as quickly as possible. "I'm taking November and December off."

After the chorus of what's and why's, Reid continued.

"I have to write a lecture, present said lecture and I have to attend a ball. It's.." Reid hesitated for a moment. "I've sort of been awarded a Nobel Prize."

It was suddenly very silent.

"Oh, Reid!" Garcia squealed, and she walked towards Reid to hug him.