Author's Note: Good evening. "I long for the day that senseless violence is over. Until then, my thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims of the Newtown shooting. The level of barbarism people are capable of breaks my heart."- That was my big sister's most recent FaceBook status and it sums up everything I'm feeling right now better than anything I can come up with right now. Enjoy today's chapter.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
"So, how long are you and Jr. G-Man gonna keep on with this stealth flirty thing you've been doing lately?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, PG.", she immediately denied between swipes of 'Mediterranean Mint' on her right big toenail.
"BS, EP and you know it! Everyone can see the writing on the wall, even Hotch, even Rossi and he's only been around for like 5 minutes! You and Reid have been uber close since you helped him get…clean…and I saw the little tete a tete you two had in the bull pen before going to San Fran. You look good together and I bet you dollars to donuts that you'll feel even better together, if you know what I mean…"
"Not every broad's as brave as you, Penelope."
"Brave?"
"Morgan."
A derisive snort came through the line and Emily's brows went up at her next statement.
"Honey, if I were even half as brave as you think I am, then I'd be fucking him for real right now instead of in my head like always. Brave, my thick juicy booty…sorry about that. Mimosas make the mouth filters go poof. The point is that I'm a chicken when it comes to the man I want and you shouldn't be like that with Reid. You're totally into him and he digs you so I say you go for it. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Rejection. Friendship ruining, team fucked all to hell and sideways rejection."
"Reid's not gonna reject you. Hell, if anything, he's scared that you'll reject him. After all, according to mainstream society, he's so out of your league it's not even funny."
"Mainstream society is full of idiots and I don't care about leagues. I care about him!"
"So then, strap on your lady pair and tell him, already or just show him. Maybe you could show up to his place in nothing but a cardigan and ask him to tutor you in reproductive health."
"Penelope Orchid Garcia!" she scolded laughingly.
"I bet he likes to be called doctor in bed." Garcia purred before dissolving into giggles.
"Oh, my god…okay, you know what? No more mimosas for you tonight and you should call Morgan over and have your own little cardigan chat with him."
"Now, wait a minute…"
"Come to Jesus talks are two way streets. You should take your own advice and tie Morgan to your bed and lick him like a chocolate ice cream cone like you said you wanted to before Hotch said you were on speaker. Look, if it goes sideways, you can freeze my bank accounts and bitch slap me on Monday, okay?"
"I'm not gonna bitch slap you. You're my sister and you have a gun but…maybe. I need to think about it."
"Don't overthink it. Look, my pizza's here so I'll talk you later, all right?"
"All right. Xs and Os, Em."
The pounding at the door was getting more insistent by the second and she balanced on her heels to preserve her toes. Glancing in the mirror, she adjusted the Patriots football jersey she had on and picked up her wallet and switchblade.
Better safe than sorry.
Opening the door, her eyes widened at the sight of not the pizza guy but Reid. He had on a forest green t-shirt, baggy brown sweats, white slippers, and no sweater, showing his spindly arms. His hair was wilder than usual and his eyes, while free of signs of drugs, were still wild.
"Spencer, what are you doing…?"
His lips cut her off.