Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.
This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Reid and Morgan.
Sorry that it wasn't complete for Christmas day - I started posting too late. Will post daily until finished. Thank you for all the support and encouragement as I was really unsure of this story as it's not a full case or a friendship fluff, it a bit blurred. So it is really encouraging to here what you have to say.
. . .
The cabin gave shelter from the ever increasing snowstorm outside, yet true warmth was still a luxury. Morgan busied himself, trying to establish what the home had to offer them, while Spencer stood watching the snow pile up outside.
Happy that the door he had bust was finally secure Morgan begun to make up the fire in the centre of the cabin lounge. There seemed something slightly ironic about the action.
"Hey Pretty Boy, if you would like to be useful maybe you could see if coffee is a possibility."
Standing when he got no answer, Morgan made his way over to Reid.
"You ok?" he asked as he approached the younger agent.
Reid nodded, his long arms wrapped snugly around his thin body.
"Do you think he'll strike tonight, Christmas Eve?" Reid asked tearing his eyes away from the window and facing Morgan for the first time.
Morgan reached out a heavy hand, and placed it on Reid's shoulder, "Whether he planned to or not, I think it we can fairly safely say no-one is coming out here tonight, Hell, even Santa will struggle with this much snow."
Reid's eyes widened.
"What? Morgan asked.
"You believe in Santa?" Reid asked innocently.
"Yeah along with the Tooth Fairy, now go make me some coffee or you will have to worry about surviving the night with me and caffeine withdrawal."
Reid looked stunned by his colleague's joke, before movingly rapidly towards the kitchen area.
Morgan shook his head and smiled as he made his way back to the large stone fireplace. He still couldn't help but feel there was something very wrong about a roaring fire in a log cabin, let alone when the reason they were stuck out in said log cabin for Christmas, was because of a serial arsonist.
Lighting the match and watching the fire catch, Morgan was in a trance, his mind trying to compute the link between that action the killer they were hunting.
Reid came back into the lounge, two steaming mugs in hand. He hovered by the couch as he waited for Morgan to finish his moment of contemplation.
Standing and stretching Morgan jumped slightly as he turned and realised Reid was back in the room. Noticing the mug held towards him, Morgan took it willingly. Wrapping his fingers around it, Morgan savoured the heat.
"That's better," he moaned, before sitting down on the couch in front of the fire.
Reid tentatively joined him.
"What do we do now?" Reid asked.
"Whether the storm, I guess. Looking around briefly when I got in, it looks like the occupants of the cabin left in a rush; there is a lot of stuff left behind, more than we need to survive the night."
"It feels wrong," Reid muttered.
Morgan looked at the young genius, and smirked, he should have guessed that the innocent conscious would struggle with what they were doing.
"Hey, we are hurting no-one. Besides we can make up for what we use once we get down from here if it makes you feel any better."
Reid nodded.
They both stared silently at the fire, the amber flames licking the wood as the radiating heat started to warm the room. Morgan took the lulled moment as another opportunity to try his phone, one quick glance at the screen made it obvious that all calls were out of the question. He wondered what Hotch would do with them out of contact. The snow may not be as bad in the town, he hoped that the rest of the team were all safe, whatever the conditions.
. . .
Inside the police station Hotch paced the small room, while Rossi watched.
"You know that they will have found somewhere to hole up for the night. The snow has knocked out all communications; there is nothing you can do," Rossi explain flatly.
Hotch stopped long enough to glare at his companion. As if Christmas without his son was bad enough, then losing two of his team in the worst blizzard the town had seen for over a decade. He could just imagine what Strauss would have to say about this should she find out the current situation.
Propping his head up on one hand Rossi studied his anxious friend. He wished there was something he could do to help, instead he made do with being there for him, after all, where else could he be on the night before Christmas?
. . .
Morgan returned to the lounge two glasses in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.
Hearing the slight chink of the glasses, Reid spun his head to look for the source of the noise.
Plonking himself on the couch, Morgan poured two large slugs of the liquor. Passing one to Reid, he clinked the glass in a mock toast.
"To the crumbiest Christmas ever."
"Gee, thanks," Reid mumbled, "Besides I don't drink scotch."
"Sorry kid the bar is a little empty, but I will be sure to pass on you comment," Morgan took a swig from the glass.
Reid swirled the contents, watching the ripples swell around the sides. Submitting he tested the drink, squinting slightly as the burn hit his throat.
"You know," Morgan begun, letting his head rest back as he stared at the ceiling, "Right now my Mom would be insisting we wrap up warm for the walk to church for midnight mass. Me and my sister would be moaning, teasing my Mom, but actually I kinda like it. The service is so, I don't know, safe and secure."
Reid sat still, unsure what was an appropriate response in the circumstances; instead he took another sip of whiskey.