Author's Note: Good evening, all. Tonight's episode wasn't as disturbing as last week's thankfully but it cut it close. Only CM would be twisted enough to put reincarnation into the context of a serial killer and then the hospital scenes…it was well written, as always but…damn. Although, I did enjoy the little hint of Morgan/Garcia goodness with the bandage and the touching and the…JJ has terrible timing. I'm glad the elusive Team Stalker ax has fallen and I'm looking forward to the full reveal.
To address an issue brought up: although I'm okay with Phone Booth's existence in canon, in this story, it's about the Reid/Prentiss connection. I might do a separate story with the canon couple at a later date but Support will stay a Reid/Prentiss fic from the first chapter to the last.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
"Judging by the thunderous look of disgust on your face, I'm gonna say you just spent more than 20 minutes on the phone with someone you can barely stand.", Reid greeted as he set his bag down on his desk.
"My. Mother." she replied while resting her head on a stack of completed triplicate.
"Ah. So on a scale of 1 to Homicide, how are you feeling?"
Emily laughed and held up 6 fingers in response, turning her head to face him as he rolled his chair to her desk. He had on a purple and white checkered v-neck sweater, black jeans, and dark green sneakers. A fluffy gray cardigan topped it and she shifted so her head rested on the sleeve…and a noticeably more muscular forearm. When did that happen?
"It's just…she disagrees with me being in the BAU. If she had her way, I'd be in the diplomatic circuit with her or best case scenario, a politician's wife."
"Ew."
"Right? Every couple of months, there's some big dinner thing she wants me to attend and when I show up, it's like the blueblood dating game or the opening of fox hunting season and I'm the fox."
"Can't you find a way out of it?"
"I already have but then the calls start. She says it's just to see if I'm okay but I know damned well that she doesn't really care about that. She just wants to nitpick and I always end up with a headache afterwards."
"I guess that's her way of communicating with you. All moms nitpick on something. Mine says I'm too skinny."
"You are and I don't get it. I've seen you eat. You should be like 100 pounds heavier than you are."
He snorted and she raised her head, cracking her neck and causing her hair to fall over one shoulder. As she reached for a scrunchie, she could feel him looking at her through his lashes, his gaze lingering over her red top. He liked it when she wore red. A lot of men did but none of them looked at her like he did. Sure there was interest but there was a gleam of shy tenderness that appealed to her greatly. It would always be hidden when she looked back at him but she could see it sometimes in he reflection of a window or her computer monitor…
"You've been picking your nails lately. Is there something on your mind?"
Looking down at the frayed and reddish skin around her right nails, she replied, "It's nothing big. Just some random thoughts that won't leave me alone. Especially when I'm trying to sleep."
Once her mind had settled on a positive answer about whether she was harboring non platonic feelings for Reid, her sleep cycle had gone out of whack. She couldn't help but dwell on the various interactions she had with him over the past few months, both professionally and non professionally, seeking and finding subtext. A hidden glance here, a quick touch on her arm there, butting heads with him, playing chess with him…it was like a skipping CD.
"I'm no stranger to insomnia either. Whatever's troubling or confusing you, when you're ready, I'm here to listen."
"You don't have to…"
"I want to. You were there for me. It's only right that I be there for you."
And back to his cubicle space he went, leaving warmth in her chest and a little less confusion in his wake.
He was good for that.