AN. I do not own Criminal Minds nor associated characters.
Light hearted exploration of team dynamics. Garcia because I adore her. Thanks for the feedback! That is all. Enjoy.
Emily has three important visitors to her bedside - The bubbly analyst, the coffee-laden Media Liaison and everybody's favourite genius.
"Emily!" Penelope squealed as she flounced into the private room Emily had commandeered for her stay at the hospital. It had been just a few days since her shooting, but in another couple of days she'd be allowed home. The brunette's eyes twinkled with delight as she pushed herself up in the bed, wincing slightly.
"Hey, PG," she grinned helplessly at the bouncy analyst as she dropped onto the bed beside her, clutching her pale hands. Penelope's searching eyes studied the face of her friend feverishly, as though this were the last time she'd ever see her.
"How are you feeling, sweetness?" Her voice was soft, bright almost, but Emily knew that emotion was threatening to overwhelm the analyst as she perched at the edge of the orange bedspread.
"I'm fine, Garcia," Emily twinkled, disguising the pain with a smile in an attempt to reassure the usually spunky blonde, "honestly! I'm feeling so much better already."
"You forget, I know how you feel." Penelope replied, looking over her bright frames and raising her eyebrows in a manner that any high school librarian would be proud of.
"Seriously, Garcia, I'm fine." Emily squeezed the fingers of her friend. "Is everyone okay?"
Penelope sighed. How like Emily to dismiss the fact she'd been shot through the chest and enquire after the other team members. "Everyone will be better once you are out of here, gumdrop." Emily smiled. "But they're okay. Reid and JJ are bringing up coffee – Hotch got us the afternoon off."
"Oh, coffee," Emily mumbled longingly, throwing her head back with a moan. "The stuff they give us up here is hot water, Garcia, you have no idea."
Penelope chuckled, "Oh, I do, sweet-cheeks, believe me. No fear, JJ is well-acquainted with your usual and you shall be appeased momentarily."
"Did Reid bring the book I begged him for?"
"But of course. Also, cola-bottles. The kid knows you too well, Em." Penelope winked, laughing at the excitement that filled Emily's face at the thought of coffee and sweets. Hospital did nothing for this kick-ass brunette, that much was certain. Sliding from the bed, Penelope instead arranged three chairs at the agent's bedside, of the same limb-cramping variety in which Aaron had recently spent a long night in contemplation beside a sleeping Emily.
"I can't wait to get out of here," Emily groaned as she watched. "I hate feeling useless." Penelope offered a sympathetic stare, dropping into the chair closest to the brunette.
"Hate to break it to you, sweetness, but you're not going to be kicking UNSUB backside anytime soon. Hotch will have you on desk-duty for the next decade if he gets his way."
"He won't get his way," Emily shared a conspirational grin with the analyst, and Penelope did not doubt her words. Keeping Emily out of the field until she was properly healed would be easier said than done.
"Hey, Emily," Spencer called as he came through the door, clutching several books, what looked like a few issues of Emily's favourite comic and a bag of sweets. Behind him came the spritely media liaison, laden with coffee and wearing a smile that spread right into her bright blue eyes at the prospect of seeing her friend.
"How are you feeling, Em?" JJ enquired as the pair came to rest at her bedside. "It's so good to see you." Like Penelope, JJ gave her hand a gentle squeeze, aware that a hug would probably pain Emily.
"I'll feel better once I have some decent coffee down me," Emily replied, happy to see her friends. "I'm doing well, Jay. I can go home soon." She grinned as the small blonde handed out the coffee, Penelope smacking her lips in delight and Spencer beaming at the simple reunion of friends.
"Morgan sent these," from his pile of books he slid the comics, and a well-thumbed copy of Slaughterhouse-Five. Emily laughed, wincing at the pain in her chest as she leant forwards, plucking the novel from the bedspread. "He knew you'd like that." Spencer gave a small grin before dropping his own offerings at her bedside. "I got cola-bottles because I know they're your favourite."
"There's a lot to love about you, Doctor Reid." Emily's dark eyes sparkled and Spencer smiled modestly, half to himself.
"When do you think you'll be out of here, Em?" JJ enquired, still sipping her coffee beside an attentive Penelope.
"My doctor reckons two more days," the brunette rolled her eyes, "so my release is two days too far away for my liking. And then I have to rest at home." Emily sighed, and JJ understood her reluctance to sit at home, bored, when her days were usually filled with the profiling of serial killers.
"I bet Hotch will let you take desk-duty home," Penelope offered, "as long as you don't overdo it. He probably knows as well as we do that if he doesn't you'll find another way to strain yourself anyway." The analyst raised her eyebrows and shook her head at the agent.
"I'll be cleared for work in no time," Emily said as though trying to convince herself. "Even sitting around at the bullpen doing paperwork would beat lying here or knocking around at my apartment." She tipped her head back to the ceiling in quiet frustration.
"Just chill out, Emily," JJ ordered, "and drink your coffee before it gets cold."
The three agents and the technical analyst sat, swapping gossip and laughing, for another hour or more. For JJ and Penelope, who had seen their friend only briefly since her shooting, the reunion with Emily was happy, and they were pleased she seemed so herself – so together. So much the usual infuriatingly awkward, cheeky, clever Emily. Spencer had seen her just the day before, and was pleased to see that even between his visits she had improved, was pleased he could ease her boredom even a little by his deliveries of comics and books and sweets. He had to admit to himself, there was not much he wouldn't have agreed to deliver in order to make her stay easier – anything short of case files, anyway. Emily was a well-loved member of the BAU family, indeed.
Later, once the coffee cups were drained and the topics of conversation that day exhausted, once the cola-bottles had been devoured (with considerable help from Penelope) and the shadows had begun to lengthen, it was time to say goodbye.
Penelope squeezed Emily's hand carefully, promising to visit as soon as she got five minutes and to bring her fluffy unicorn of health-giving. The big eyes behind the bright frames blinked away tears and Emily reassured her friend she'd still be here in the morning, and the next day until she finally got to go home – and then she'd be just down the road and still here. And soon she'd be back at work and back to exchanging witticisms over the phone with the bubbly analyst.
"I'll see you soon, Em," JJ stood at her bedside and collected her coffee cup from the small table at her head. "Ring me when you're cleared for discharge and I'll pick you up the second I'm free." The dainty blonde promised with a small smile.
Spencer also promised to see the brunette soon - Emily considered that she would not find herself short of visitors once she got home, at any rate – and swore to talk to their Unit Chief about letting her have some work to do from home.
"Love you, gumdrop, take care!" Penelope gave a little wave as the small crowd bustled through the door, each of them taking one last look at her through the window of her room as they hurried down the corridor.
Emily sank back into her pillows, worn out from the constant conversation of the last hour or so and the excitement of seeing her closest friends again. She had missed Derek, but supposed he would visit another time. Stifling a yawn, she turned her head to the books upon her bedside table and, reaching gingerly across so as not to pain her chest so badly, pulled out Slaughterhouse-Five. She grinned; smiling happily to herself as she reflected upon the times spent laughing and joking with the team in the bullpen, or on the jet. The thought of them comforted her as she lay there, beneath the garish, itchy hospital blankets in her private room with her favourite book open in her lap.