Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. I'd dance with Reid any day of the week, in his dreams or mine. My baby is still hurting but he's starting to pull himself back together with his own strength and the support of the Team, especially Rossi. I loved how he sought Reid out and I love how Reid opened up to him in the end. Open Reid, even when it's Open Sore Reid is always welcome in my book. But…wasn't he dancing at Will and JJ's wedding? Like seriously dancing? I remember him spinning someone out and pulling them back in like something out the Step Up series but…eh. Never mind. Enjoy the chapter.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
Emily waved a ham and cheese hot pocket under his nose and he absently took a bite, his marker squeaking on fluidly, now on one of their area's glass windows. Occasionally, he would stop and use part of a big bundle of yarn to literally make connections but yeah, her lover (would she ever get used to referring to him as that?) was deep in the Zone. While that was very good case wise, the last thing any of them needed was for him to collapse from genius induced exhaustion.
JJ had met her at the precinct entrance with the hot pocket and Morgan just pointed at their beloved busy, caffeine OD'd bee significantly.
Shut him down!
Once he was done with the bite, she waved it again but drew it away before he could capture it. The move happened twice more before the marker finally stopped and he gave her a Look. In response to said look, she gave him an angelic smile and pointed at the small couch near the doors. His lips twisted one of his 'thinking pouts' and the dragon roar of his stomach granted her victory.
Reid plopped down on the couch and she surrendered the rest of the snack, watching as he devoured it swiftly but with a good amount of manners.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. How long have you been at it?"
"What day is it?"
"Wrong answer, Dr. Reid. You're going to get up from there, you're going to change clothes, and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour…or I'll shoot you.", she declared with sass.
He chuckled and looked up at her through his lashes. His lavender tie had come undone and the sleeves of his black shirt were up, the shirt unbuttoned to show an undershirt now covered with a multitude of marker stains. His dark wash jean clad legs were ever so slightly spread and his tangerine orange sneakers were untied, the laces out to show mismatched day-glo zebra print socks. With his wild hair and the scruff on his face…
"Emily?"
"What?"
He just smirked dirtily, making her roll her eyes fondly.
"If you want me to act on what I was thinking sometime this century, then you need to get moving."
"Yes, ma'am.", he replied sensually before walking…swaggering away past a snickering Morgan.
"Quiet, you!" she scolded playfully before following after her genius with her head held high.