Wow! I'm pleasantly surprised people like this – thanks once again for your kind words (sounds like a funeral… don't read anything into that, btw).
Initially, I wanted to have Hotch watching out for Reid, but I just cannot write our brooding Unit Chief to save my life, hence the distinct lack of him in this fic. I don't know if I fare much better with writing Rossi, but never mind eh?
I'm glad someone else noticed Reid's expression during the recent episode in Detroit; as I have to watch online and it's often heavily pixelated I wasn't sure if I was imagining things but the idea works (I hope) for where this is going.
Unfortunately I don't have an insider source at CBS, just a warped mind and an overactive imagination!
Anyway, that's enough from me. Enjoy?
"So, what've you got planned for this evening?" Morgan waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Reid. "Will the good doctor have many happy returns when he returns to his love shack for the night?"
Reid shook his head. "Actually, no."
"So you'll be finding that sweet birthday sugar somewhere else?" added Morgan, his wide grin showing two rows of gleaming white teeth. "My man, we'll make a player out of you before you hit that big 3-0 next year…"
"Don't judge me by your own standards, Derek," muttered Reid as he closed the case file he'd been working on and placed it into the out box on his pedantically neat desk. As he got to his feet Reid was surprised to see the other four members of the team approaching his desk, Garcia holding a bunch of brightly coloured helium balloons.
"Happy birthday, sweetcheeks," she cooed as she left a scarlet lip print on his right cheek. "You ready to go?"
"Go?" Reid's confusion was noticeable as he forced his arms into his grey coat. "Go where?"
"You didn't tell him? Shame on you." Garcia's red curls bobbed as she turned to face Morgan. "Don't think I won't make you pay for that later," she added with a lascivious smile.
Reid sighed. "Guys, please enlighten me…"
Garcia winked at Reid as she blew a kiss in his direction, causing a blush to spread across his cheeks. "Oh course, how rude of me to put my own desires before those of our birthday boy," she said, slapping her wrist. "Bad Penelope; I'll have to buy Boy Genius an extra birthday drink for my selfishness."
"Guys, it's good of you to want to take me out, but bars and clubs really aren't my thing. Surely you know that by now?" Reid looked down towards the floor, feeling embarrassed to decline the invitation.
Morgan clapped Reid on the back, catching him unaware and making him jump. "No kid, that's later. First we need to get some food inside you, give that skinny ass plenty of energy for busting those moves and keeping up with all the honeys who'll be lining up to give you some birthday lovin'. Right guys?"
"I'm not hungry," mumbled Reid, stepping away from the rest of his team.
Rossi tilted his head to one side. "We reserved a table at the Shere Khan; everyone knows it's your favourite Indian restaurant."
Reid looked directly at Rossi, unnerving the older agent with the intensity of his stare whilst he spoke slowly and deliberately. "I said… I'm not… hungry."
Hotch folded his arms, looking from one member of his team to the next.
"Aw, come on Reid," Prentiss said pleadingly as she linked arms with him. "You're so easy to order for. Two portions of aloo saag, poppadoms and lamb samosas…"
Reid yanked his arm free. "I said no. It's my birthday and I'll spend it as I want. Now, get out of my face," he shouted, his breath hitching in his throat as he ran past the elevator's steel doors and towards the staircase which led down to the parking garage.
"I assume you reserved a table for seven?" asked Hotch, his expression still neutral.
"Man, JJ's gonna be crushed…" Morgan said with a shake of his head.
Forty minutes later:
The small apartment was almost in darkness, apart from the soft light emitted by a small lamp on top of one of his many bookcases. It had been years since Reid had attached it to a timer, ensuring he would never return to total suffocating blackness if he had to work late. After locking the dark wooden door behind him, Reid kicked off his Converse and slumped down on the worn brown leather couch, sighing heavily.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, his head cradled in his hands as his mind replayed the evening's events. At least it was Saturday tomorrow; unless a case came in he didn't have to face the others until Monday morning.
Try explaining that little hissy fit.
At least I didn't throw up in front of them, just saved that little show for the side of the highway…
God only knows what would have happened if you'd eaten all that spicy food…
Haven't you noticed the looks they've been shooting in your direction?
They know something's wrong, you work with the best profilers in the nation; you just keep on deluding yourself they won't notice…
It seemed like hours before he got to his feet, moving slowly towards an old fashioned wooden cabinet on the back wall behind the couch. His memory hadn't let him down; despite probably not making the wisest choice he knew it contained an unopened bottle of single malt, Rossi's gift to him the previous Christmas. As he reached the cabinet, his eyes were drawn to the faded photograph he'd carefully placed in a simple silver frame. He picked it up.
Two faces stared back at him. To the left stood a smiling young boy, his mid-brown hair falling over thick metal framed glasses. To the right sat a young man, although the Yankees baseball cap would make it difficult for strangers to ascertain his exact age. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, his pale puffy face carrying a slightly pinched look only noticeable with closer inspection. Between them they held a birthday cake, its white frosting emblazoned with the red numbers 4 and 29 and encircled by thirty three blue candles.
Reid stared at the photo, feeling his face flush as hot tears pricked his eyelids. A slender finger traced the outline of the man's face as he swallowed hard and then whispered:
"Happy birthday, Uncle Daniel…"
Coming soon to a computer near you – the fourth and final instalment. Thanks for reading…