O'course I don't own CM.

lunch

Spencer Reid liked to pay attention to the small details that most people didn't care about—like lunch routines.

Whenever the team wasn't on a case, everyone had his or her own lunch routine. Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia typically spent theirs together, mainly in the cafeteria a few floors down. It was rare that Jennifer Jareau (or JJ as they all called her) didn't head out to spend her lunch hour with her basically-but-not-really-husband, Will LaMontagne. Emily Prentiss, though she brought her lunch with her, more often sat outside in the courtyard for a change in scenery. David Rossi preferred to leave early for lunch, wielding some sort of dessert when he came back in late from it. Aaron Hotchner—well, if he had lunch, it was often delivered—mostly sat at his desk, taking sparse bites of his food while working on reports. And Reid knew all this because he rarely took lunch at the same time as the others since he was typically engrossed in his case files, which resulted in him being chastised once the others returned from lunch, and ultimately JJ and Rossi started alternating who brought him something back.

So, yeah, when Hotch suddenly walked up to him at the start of lunch hour one day, it was probably safe to say he was stunned when the unit chief asked if he wanted to go to lunch. Which was why he only barely managed to squeak out a, "What?"

Hotch looked remotely amused by the response and repeated, "Would you like to go to lunch?" When Reid could do nothing but stare at the older man dumbly, the other profiler elaborated, "I thought you might enjoy going out to lunch instead of having it brought in to you."

Reid furrowed his brow and glanced to the side in thought, his brain processing all the potential reasons Hotch could be doing such a thing.

Everything stilled to a halt, however, when a warm hand pressed down against his, and Hotch softly stated, "Reid." Reid's gaze flew up to meet Hotch's, and he swallowed around a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "It's all right if you don't want to go. I just wanted company and thought I would ask."

And for some reason those words were what had the boy genius blurting, "Okay." Hotch quirked a brow in a silent question, and Reid hastened to clarify, "I'll go. I want to go."

The slight quirk of Hotch's lips seemed almost shy as he pulled his hand back to his side. "Is now a decent stopping point for you?"

Reid glanced down at the file he had literally just opened before Hotch walked up to him before he smiled up at the unit chief. "Uh, yeah. I hadn't started reading it yet." Hotch nodded but didn't say anything, and it took Reid a moment to realize the man was waiting on him. "Right, sorry," he rushed his words, abruptly pushing himself to his feet.

"You don't have to apologize," Hotch commented, waiting until Reid pulled the strap of his messenger bag over his head before he started walking in the direction of the elevator. Reid hurried to fall in step with his boss, glancing up when the other man asked, "Is there anywhere particular you'd like to go?"

Reid hesitated and bit down on his lower lip, unsure of the etiquette of the situation. He hadn't expected to be given a choice in the decision-making since Hotch had invited him along, and part of him wanted to say as much. But he also knew if he did that, they could very well end up at a Chinese restaurant since Hotch seemed to really enjoy those, and Reid didn't really want to fumble his way through his meal using chopsticks. (He knew he could ask for a fork, but he truly hated doing that.)

Reid was surprised when Hotch didn't gently prompt a reply from him, and it wasn't until they were in the elevator that he suggested, "What about the new Italian place? It's only a couple blocks away."

"That sounds fine," Hotch replied, and Reid smiled to himself.

The walk to the restaurant was filled with mostly dodging other pedestrians, and as such, there wasn't much talking. The nervous anxiety Reid felt was back twofold, however, as they were seated. He still wasn't convinced that the outing was just an outing, but he didn't want Hotch to notice, so he tried to fight back his nerves by focusing intently on every word on the menu, even though he didn't need to. That plan apparently hadn't worked, however.

"Reid, calm down. Your knee is bouncing so hard it's shaking the table," Hotch remarked absently, and Reid felt his face flush. "Relax. It's just lunch."

"Right. Sorry," Reid responded, wincing when his voice squeaked. He felt his face flush hotter when Hotch glanced at him with a smile before returning to his perusal of the menu.

Reid felt painfully awkward at the table, and he wasn't sure what to do. He was afraid if he started rambling, it would only get on Hotch's nerves. Thankfully, the waitress came and took their order before that could happen, and she smiled brightly at him before darting off to get their drinks.

"You don't have to keep quiet, you know." Hotch's statement had Reid jumping in his seat. His gaze met Hotch's, and he was surprised to see Hotch was still smiling. Reid averted his gaze for a moment and then cleared his throat, fiddling with the ends of the tablecloth. "What did you do this past weekend?" Hotch prompted gently.

Reid's tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he forced himself to focus on the question. "I watched Henry so Will and JJ could have a date night. The last time they'd had one was... three months, two weeks, and six days prior. Even if it hadn't been that long, I could tell they needed it with how they were acting. JJ was worried about leaving Henry alone with me, though, so Garcia came over."

Hotch's brows furrowed, and his head tilted the slightest bit. "Why doesn't she want to leave Henry alone with you?"

Reid laughed slightly and gave Hotch a quizzical look. "Does 'The Reid Effect' not mean anything to you anymore?" he teased, and he was surprised by the confusion on Hotch's face.

"That was years ago, Reid, and it happened even when others were with you. That obviously doesn't apply anymore. Henry adores you," Hotch pointed out, and there was something odd about his tone that Reid couldn't quite put his finger on. "Why don't you ask if she'll let you babysit him alone next time?"

Reid tilted his head, studying Hotch's posture briefly. He didn't know why it was so difficult to believe Hotch was being sincere, but when Hotch simply quirked a brow at him, he grinned. "Maybe I will." It was noncommittal, but it was the best he could do. He didn't want to badger JJ about it, and he knew it would have to be the right timing.

The warm silence that had temporarily settled over them was broken by the return of the waitress with their drinks, and after asking if they needed anything, she winked and headed off to another table.

Reid immediately doctored the coffee he'd ordered, adding several packets of sugar. He tentatively took a sip and made a face. Deciding it needed more, he reached for more packets and was in the midst of opening one when he caught Hotch watching him with a smile. "What?" he queried, proceeding to pour the sugar into the cup.

"One of the people at the table behind you is gaping at the amount of sugar you're using," Hotch answered, sounding amused. "And now she's telling everyone else at their table."

Reid made a face and sighed. "I don't get what's so weird about it. I like my coffee to be sweet."

"You like to drink liquid sugar," Hotch rejoined, and the look on his face was daring Reid to contradict him.

After opening and closing his mouth several times, Reid heard Hotch chuckling, and out of almost automatic retaliation, he flicked a sugar packet at the other man. It glanced off Hotch's chin and onto the table, and Reid felt the blood drain from his face as Hotch's brows rose. "S-sorry," he stammered. "It was out of habit. I'm... I'm used to Morgan teasing me."

What Reid wasn't expecting was for his unit chief to flick the packet back at him, with quite deadly accuracy. It smacked him right between the eyes before falling into his lap, and he blinked in surprise, his mouth falling open. Hotch's brown eyes were practically glowing as he replied, "Now we're even."

It was such a boyish thing to do that Reid couldn't help but laugh. This was the Aaron Hotchner he hadn't seen in quite some time, and it was a relief to see him again. And that was what finally allowed Reid to relax; a moment later, after catching a glimpse of a plate of spaghetti with meatballs, he queried, "Did you know that Italians don't actually eat meatballs with their spaghetti?"

"Actually, yes, I did. Dave has lectured me on everything we do wrong to Italian cuisine," Hotch answered, and Reid frowned slightly. "He didn't explain why, though."

Reid wasn't entirely sure that was true, but the fact that Hotch was trying made him smile and launch into an explanation anyway.

It wasn't until they'd gotten back into the elevator in their building that Reid felt Hotch gently touch his arm, and Reid swung his gaze up to meet the other man's. "I really enjoyed our lunch today," Hotch answered his unspoken question.

Reid was fairly certain he was grinning too wide, but he couldn't quite help it. He liked the fact that it wasn't just him. "I did, too. Do you think we could—" Reid stopped himself mid-sentence and cleared his throat. "Uh, nevermind."

"If you're willing to make a slight routine out of it, I think it could be helpful for us both," the unit chief admitted as the elevator came to a stop on their floor.

As they walked out of it, Reid smiled shyly and glanced up at Hotch. "I would like that," he agreed. "I would like that a lot, Hotch."

Reid watched as Hotch's expression became guarded again, and Reid knew that the older man was back to his boss persona. "I'll let you know, then. I have a meeting with Strauss in a few minutes, so go ahead and get back to work, all right?"

"Good luck. See you later, Hotch," Reid farewelled, offering the man a slight wave before heading back towards his desk. He was a little surprised to see Garcia standing against it (with no Morgan or Prentiss in sight), and he was even more surprised when she grinned at him.

"So, my Junior G-man, my Chocolate God tells me you went to lunch with Hotch today?" she asked.

Reid furrowed his brows at her. "...yes?"

The redhead made circular motions with her hands. "And how was it?"

"It was really nice. We went to that new Italian place, and I'm pretty sure he knew half the stuff I was telling him because of Rossi, but he didn't say anything," Reid mused aloud, stepping around the tech analyst and sliding into his seat.

Garcia sighed, an oddly contented little thing that had Reid giving her an odd look, but she obviously ignored his curiosity. "Are you two going to do it again?"

"Maybe. Hotch said he'd let me know when he wanted to do it again, but we didn't make concrete plans or anything," Reid answered, shrugging. "Why are you so interested in this?"

"Because," Garcia retorted with a huff, "he's been so depressed these past few months. And holing himself up in that office day in and day out isn't helping. I'm just happy he's making an effort to spend time with any of us, especially if it gets him out of here for an hour."

Reid made a humming noise and nodded his head in deferral to her explanation. Garcia always worried about every single one of them, so of course she would worry about Hotch. "Like I said, we didn't make any plans, but if he asks, I'll go. After I finally calmed down, we had a lot of fun."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it! I'm gonna head back down to my lair, so you know where to find me if you need me," the redhead farewelled with a grin and a wink.

Reid shook his head as she walked off. He almost felt like he was missing something, but he wasn't going to worry about it. With a mental shrug, he faced the case file he'd left open on his desk and got back to work.

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