Playing Games by JuliaBC
A/N: This was requested, which relieved me because OCs are always so damn tricky. I wrote ch. 23 planning to write another with Travis, but I'm glad that people liked him enough to ask for it.
So here goes. Oh, and there's not much Kate in this chapter. But that's okay.
It was the day before the adoption fair and Reid was wondering if he was ready to do this. He was a month older and a lot more prepared. He'd read everything on pet care and chocolate labs in particular that he could find, having visited the library and even resorted to googling a few things.
He'd considered asking Garcia to pull some things off of the internet for him but had laughed off his own cowardice and done it himself. The most searched items popped up as he typed the word chocolate, (Chocolate chip cookies, chocolate diet, chocolate city, chocolate rain) his fingers flying over the keys. Spencer Reid always mastered everything; it was his nature to simply find out how to do something and how to do it faster. So, even though he was a self-professed technophobe and only carried his cell phone around for work, he was a touch typist.
Because sometimes you needed to use the computer. And when you did, you'd better do it quickly.
He could type 80 words a minute. (Not that he was ever on a computer long enough for that.)
The results finally popped up, dozens of websites proclaiming knowledge about chocolate labs. Reid's hand hovered over the mouse before choosing the second result, then second guessed his decision, went back to the result page and used clicked with the mouse wheel to open the first ten results in new tabs.
Most of the sites had information that he definitely already knew, information that made him close the tab and move onto the next one, fingers flying as he used CTRL + W to close them.
"Look at you, being all tech god-y," Garcia said behind him, having snuck up on him.
Spencer immediately regretted doing this at work, and accidently on purpose held down the W, closing all the tabs immediately.
"Why did you close them?" Garcia demanded, pulling the adjoining cubicle's desk chair over to his desk and sitting down in it, putting her stack of folders on his desk. "Were you looking at porn?" Her eyes widened, with horror or titillation, he wasn't sure. "Reid! Were you looking at porn? At work? Because you know that I can see all of your history. Anyone could, at work!"
"Garcia, I was not looking at porn, for god's sake," he said, his embarrassment turning into frustration with his quirky friend.
"Don't use that tone with me," she returned, seeming more amused than hurt or insulted by his tone. "And what else could prompt you to swear at me?"
"It's a completely ridiculous assumption," he said. "Don't you think I respect women more than that? Don't you respect me enough to not let yourself think that?"
"It wasn't meant as an insult," she sulked. "What were you looking at? Why didn't you just ask me, like you usually do?"
"I'm researching," he said.
"You use the library for researching," she said. "In fact, I seem to remember you saying that the internet was simply a library for dummies. Or a book for idiots."
"I don't think I ever said that, Garcia," he returned, taking his mug of coffee, feeling the need for caffeine, the only thing that could reboot his system at this point. Oh, god. Computer analogies.
It was empty. Ominously so.
"It was implied," Garcia said, standing up and following him alarmingly quickly when he stood up to get more coffee.
"How can you possibly walk that fast in those heels?" He asked, staring at her. "I'm speed walking to get rid of you and you're more than keeping pace. You could run a 5K in those and beat everyone there."
"Practice," Garcia said, and propped her hands n her hips. "And, no, I couldn't. You were speed walking to lose me? I am hurt, Spencer Reid."
"No, you aren't," Reid said.
"Well, not really," Garcia admitted. "So what were you researching? Porn?"
"No!" He exclaimed. "I was looking up chocolate labs. The adoption fair is tomorrow and I'm wondering if I'm going to go."
She gasped. "Spencer! Really? Do you mean that? To adopt?"
"Yes," he said, pouring heavy cream into his coffee and replacing the carton in the fridge. "I'm still not 100% certain, but I've been kicking myself for not taking last time's chance. I'm afraid that the same puppy won't be there."
"You imprinted," Garcia said. "Or the puppy imprinted on you. Which is it?"
"It would be that I imprinted on the puppy," Reid said.
"What will you name him?" She squealed.
"I was considering Poe," Reid said. "For Edgar Allan. Or Conan, for Arthur Conan Doyle."
"Or Derek, for Derek Morgan," a deep voice behind them said. "Come on, Pretty Boy. Who do you think you're fooling? Of course you're naming your first born child Derek. Otherwise, I might go ape. Besides, what kind of a name is Poe? Wait, you're having kids?"
"This is a prime example of why people should not butt into conversations that they do not fully grasp the subject material of," Reid sighed. "I'm not naming my kids. I'm not having kids. I'm not pregnant. My nonexistent girlfriend is not pregnant. Satisfied?"
"You didn't cover whether your lover was pregnant," Derek said, his eyes glittering with wickedness. "Let me guess, both JJ's and Kate's babies were actually yours?"
"If you don't stop talking, you're going to regret it," Reid said. "Or I will tell everyone exactly why you're wearing that shirt today."
"Ooh, why?" Garcia said, perking up. "Come on, Spencer. I'm not a profiler, but you can tell me, and I was wondering why he'd wear a dress shirt today when it's, unofficially, Casual Friday and he usually dresses the part."
"I don't have a special reason for wearing this," Derek said, pulling at his crisp blue dress shirt tucked into black slacks.
"Just keep telling Garcia that and we'll keep not believing you," Reid singsonged, leading an ever growing parade back to his desk. "And no one is having my child or ever has. Period."
"So what were you naming?" Derek asked, propping one hip on Reid's desk as Reid settled into his chair and Garcia snagged the one next to it.
"Can I tell him?" Garcia asked, the excitement showing in her voice and all of her mannerisms.
"I'm considering adopting—"
"So you are naming your child!" Derek crowed.
"A dog. A dog. D-O-G, you bastard," Reid threw back at him. "And Garcia, he's wearing that shirt because he had a meeting with Matt Cruz today. Why did he have a meeting with Matt Cruz today? Because—"
"Don't finish that sentence," Derek warned, standing up and brushing off his clothes.
"Actually, I don't know why you had a meeting with Matt Cruz today, just that you did," Reid finished, meeting Derek's eyes. "But I could find out. I think I won this round."
Derek burst out laughing, nudging Reid's head forward and Reid joined in the laughter; after besting Derek, he could finally find the humor in the situation. "You're getting a dog, Pretty Boy? That's amazing. What kind? A German Shepherd? A St. Bernard? A Great Dane?"
"A chocolate lab puppy," Reid said. "If he's still there. He might not be."
"What do you mean?" Derek asked.
"We went to the fair with Meg and Kate last month when Meg got her puppy," Garcia explained. "And Reid saw a puppy then but he didn't want to jump into something."
"Do you think he would still be there?" Derek asked, a frown creasing his forehead.
"If he isn't, it will be fine," Reid said, shuffling papers on his desk. "It'll be my fault for waiting anyway."
"Oh, please," Derek said. "Talk to the person in charge, ask if Derek Jr. went to a good family. And if he didn't, take him back."
"I'm not naming my puppy after you," Reid chuckled. "And I'm not doing that either. I'll find another one."
"What if he were your perfect match?" Derek asked. "You might never see this dog again! You need to fight for him! Wait, what am I even saying?" He scratched his head. "I got a little carried away there, sorry."
"No, I agree completely," Garcia said, her eyes misting over. "Spencer, what if you've lost your only chance for doggy happiness?"
"You two are going to drive me insane," Reid said, but the huge smile on his face showed that he didn't really care.
"These two better be getting back to work," a voice snapped.
All three whirled in their seats to see JJ standing there, arms folded over her burgeoning stomach.
"That must be a nice resting place," Garcia said, seeing how JJ's pregnant stomach served as a perfect shelf.
"Why are you guys bothering Spence when you should, all three of you, be working?" JJ asked.
"Don't pin this on me," Reid protested. "This latest batch of insanity is all their faults!"
"You were the one speaking so cryptically in the kitchen, naming your kids without me," Derek protested.
"It's not my fault that it seemed like you were looking at porn," Garcia huffed, standing up and grabbing her files together, taking Derek's arm and dragging him off.
"Wait, he was looking at porn?" Derek asked, but let himself be pulled away.
JJ watched them go with an utter lack of patience before turning back to Reid. "What was that about?"
"Somebody's pregnancy hormones are acting up," Reid said slyly.
"Well, it was either scold you guys, eat a gallon of ice cream or burst out crying on Hotch's shoulder two minutes ago," JJ admitted, her face relaxing. "God, it's different the second time around."
"What were you talking to Hotch about?" Reid asked curiously.
"Just business," JJ said, brushing it off. "You're getting a dog, Spence?"
"I hope to," Reid said. "If he's still there tomorrow."
"But how are you going to work that out?" JJ asked. "You're gone so much and no one lives with you."
"Kate offered to take him while I'm gone," Reid said. "In fact, it's entirely contingent on her saying yes again."
JJ's eyebrows hiked up. "Well." She reached out to mess up his hair. "Get the dog, Reid. You need it."
Reid watched her walk away, and noted the orthopedic shoes. Yes, pregnancy was different the second time around, even for superwoman JJ. Reid turned back to his desk and made a mental note to bring in a bag of Cheetos with lunch tomorrow.
As Reid started to leave that evening, Garcia poked her head out of her office. "Psst, Reid!"
He turned to see her and she grabbed his hand, yanking him inside. "I got together some more information for you," she said, yanking him over to the desk where a file sat. "This has everything I could find that I thought you might not already know."
"Thanks," Reid said, then noticed a colorful box on her desk. "Blokus? What's that?"
"It's a game Sam got me," Garcia said distractedly. "I haven't gotten around to playing it yet so I brought it with me to play with Kate sometime after work when I go by to see the baby."
"Let's try it now," Reid said.
"I have a report to finish," Garcia said.
"You owe me," Reid returned.
"It's for four players," was Garcia's lightning quick rejoinder.
"Then let's see who's still here," Reid said, taking the box and walking out. Garcia scrambled after him.
"Are you serious?" She asked.
"Why not?" He returned and, passing Derek's office, noted that it was empty and the older agent was gone for the night.
As they advanced into the bullpen, Garcia tugging at his sleeve, he noted that JJ's office light was also off. So that left Hotch, Rossi and Anderson.
Hmm.
I wish Kate were here, he reflected, going to Rossi's door first and poking his head in. "Would you like to play Blokus before you leave today?" He asked and Rossi looked up from where he sat on the phone.
"Sorry," Reid mouthed, starting to back up, but Rossi waved him back.
"I'm on hold," he whispered. "I'd love to play Blokus. Just give me two minutes."
Reid turned back to Garcia and raised his eyebrows in triumph.
"But that leaves Hotch!" She hissed as Reid went to the man's office and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Hotch answered a beat later.
Reid opened the door. "Hey, Hotch, want to play Blokus?"
"What's that?" Hotch asked, not even looking up from his computer.
"A game," Reid said. "A strategy game."
"I don't think so, Reid," Hotch said distractedly, using his left hand to mark something while his right hand moved the mouse.
"Come on, I won't beat you that badly," Reid joked.
There was dead silence for a moment. Hotch actually glanced up from the computer, meeting Reid's gaze with a look that would have chilled lesser men. "Set it up in the round table room," he said coolly. "And, Reid, don't count your chickens before they hatch."
Garcia was staring at him in awe as he left Hotch's office, eyes dancing with mischief.
"You daredevil," she said in awe.
"I would never done it last year," Reid admitted, dashing to the round table room and setting up the game as fast as he could. "But Kate imbued me with cockiness."
"Good for her," Garcia said, taking the directions and reading them. "1. Each player chooses a color and places that set of 21 pieces in front of his/her side of the board. The order of play is as follows: blue, yellow, red, and then green.
2. The first player (blue) places any of his/her pieces in a corner square. Play proceeds clockwise around the board (yellow, red, and green), each player putting their first piece down in one of the corner squares.
3. Play continues as each player lays down one piece during a turn.
Each new piece must touch at least one other piece of the same color, but only at the corners.
No flat edges of same color pieces can touch.
There are no restrictions on how pieces of different colors can touch one another.
4. Whenever a player is unable to place one of his/her remaining pieces on the board, that player must pass his/her turn.
End of Game
The game ends when all players are blocked from laying down any more of their pieces. This also includes any players who may have placed all of their pieces on the board. Scores are tallied, and the player with the highest score is the winner.
Scoring
Each player counts the number of unit squares in his/her remaining pieces (1 unit square = -1 point).
A player earns +15 points if all his/her pieces have been placed on the board plus 5 additional bonus points if the last piece placed on the board was the smallest piece (one square)."
She finished reading and placed the paper down as Rossi and Hotch joined them.
"I see he got quite a few people," Rossi said, meeting Hotch's eyes with a look of amusement.
Hotch shrugged.
"Reid baited him," Garcia said slyly and Rossi chuckled.
"That's a job well done, Reid," Rossi said, pulling out a chair. "Okay. So Blokus is played between four players, each players gets a color and strategically connect each piece to a corner of one of their pieces, trying to block the other players while simultaneously attempting to get rid of their pieces. The person with the least of those little squares left wins."
"Yes," Hotch said, reviewing the instructions himself.
"Let's play then," Garcia said. "I'm yellow."
"Blue," Reid claimed.
"Green," Hotch said.
"That leaves red for me," Rossi said, taking the red pile of tiles. "The color of passion."
Game play commenced. Garcia played with abandon, trying to use up her biggest pieces first. Rossi played with strategy, his moves anticipating what Hotch and Reid would do with theirs and doing his darndest to block their play.
Reid played with expertise, using his mathematical brain to figure out exactly how to place everything to get the most use of them.
And Hotch played with cool, cruel detachment, taking all of Garcia's best spaces and spreading his over the entire board.
"That was my place, sir!" Garcia wailed, after some time had passed. "I can't play now."
"I'm playing this to win, Garcia," Hotch said. "I'm the kind of guy who does that. I don't let weaker players pass me simply because they're bad at the game."
"Sir!" Garcia said and kicked Reid underneath the table.
"What?" Reid asked.
"This is your fault," she hissed.
Rossi tossed his hands up. "I'm stuck," he said. "Nowhere to go. I don't think you can go, either, Reid."
"What about here?" Reid asked, placing his piece in a spot.
"You're touching...no, you aren't," Hotch said, leaning back and considering the board. There was a long, tense moment. "I can't go." Hotch proclaimed.
"That's all of us," Garcia exhaled in relief.
"No, it doesn't," Reid said smugly and placed one last piece down. "Now it's all of us."
There was dead silence except Reid's voice as he tallied up the score for each of them.
When they finished, Hotch leaned back in his chair, Garcia squeaked and Rossi chuckled.
"I should be going," Rossi said smoothly, pushing his chair back. "Thank you for an enjoyable evening."
He left, laughter still shaking his shoulders.
"Well, bring the game back to me when you've put it away," Garcia said and left on Rossi's tail.
Reid avoided Hotch's gaze as he packed up the game.
"Admit it," Hotch said.
"What?" Reid asked.
"That you lost," Hotch answered and Reid's hands paused.
"I didn't lose," Reid said.
"We tied," Hotch said patiently. "No one won." He had a satisfied smirk on his face.
"It's not like you beat me," Reid said, taking the box and tucking it under his arm as he prepared to go.
"It's close enough," Hotch chuckled. "Thanks for the fun, Reid."
Reid waved at him over his shoulder as he left, waiting until he was safely out of sight before breaking down into crazed laughter.
"Penelope, it worked," he cackled as he burst back into her office.
She jumped in her seat like she'd been shot. "Yikes, Spencer!"
"You know how Hotch has utterly buried himself in everything under the sun these past few weeks," Reid said. "He hasn't left before seven in days. But today, he's leaving at 5:30 to go home."
"Jack's been at camp," Garcia said. "That's why Hotch was staying late."
"Yes, but Hotch didn't need to stay that long every day," Reid said. "I used you, Garcia. I just wanted to pull him out of his office again. And Rossi missed a weekend with Joy."
Garcia smiled, looking relieved. "Thank goodness. I was a little scared there at the end."
"That doesn't mean I intended it to end in a tie," Reid corrected. "That was a total surprise. I should have won."
"But you didn't," Garcia called after him as he left.
Quick note: This is last week's chapter. I hope to have something up later too, with Kate, because this is, obviously, the fourteenth anniversary of 9/11 and that's going to hit her hard.