Really haven't been writing as much as I'd like to these past few nights. Between early mornings, a cat insisting on playing all night, and serious rounds of petting before bedtime, it's been tough going. I'm getting closer to the finish-line, though. Only three more parts to go! :-)
Here. Have a snippet of what I wrote last night. This is after a case where a young gay man was beaten by his strictly religious dad into assuming the identities of other gay men who he killed along the way. But that's only marginally important to this snippet:
Reid finished his report in record time, as usual annoyed only at the speed with which his fingers could type. It slowed him down.
Finished, he looked around the office, locating his team with a practised eye. JJ was in her office, no doubt already looking at the next case-files. Their date had prompted Reid into learning a little more about what JJ's work was, and he'd been duly impressed at the amount of files and cases she managed on a daily basis.
Morgan was chewing on the end of his pen, teeth-marks already grooved into the plastic. Reid knew he hadn't made it back to the hotel until just before they were to leave to get to the airport, but he showed no signs of missing his date. Knowing Morgan, it was unlikely he would. Morgan liked to love his ladies, but with the exception of his entirely platonic relationship with Garcia, he really didn't do relationships.
Prentiss was sweating over her own report, hair unusually mussed, and Reid remembered the idle talk suggesting maybe Prentiss was bisexual. Maybe the case had hit her harder because of that, maybe it was a reaction to seeing JJ openly happy with her boyfriend.
Rossi wasn't in his office, but chatting with one of the pretty agents who shared office-space with the team. Reid glanced back at Prentiss and caught the tail-end of the glance she'd sent Rossi. Interesting, and possibly more likely to be the reason for Prentiss's frazzled look than any of Reid's other theories.
Through the windows and the half-closed blinds he could see Hotch, head bent over his desk. He'd hung his suit-jacket on the back of the chair and rolled up his sleeves. Reid felt the slow burn of lust settle into his soft tissues, but he was getting used to the attraction. What threw him off balance was the visit fron Aaron.
He'd figured they were colleagues. Good colleagues, who could spend time together after work-hours. He'd thought those times were Hotch being a kind boss and mentor, and they had been. He'd known he lusted after Hotch. Trying to make yet another box for Aaron Hotchner, to hold all the things that belonged to Aaron, Reid's friend... well, it was threatening the stability of his entire system of compartmentalization.
Maybe it had been a one-off. One of those freak things that people sometimes did for no discernable rhyme or reason. And Hotch had had reason, that night.
Reid's thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his cellphone.
"Would you like some company bearing pizza, tonight? Aaron."
For a few long minutes, Reid just looked at his cellphone. Even after the screen dimmed and went blank. He was knocked out of his fugue-state by Rossi passing behind him and clapping him on the shoulder.
"Done already? You're making us all look bad."
Reid didn't later remember what he'd replied, which was rare for him. It prompted him to wake his phone up again, and stare at it some more. Consequently he almost threw it with a girly shriek when it buzzed in his hand, not three seconds later.
"If you're done with your report you can take an early day. Hotch."
Red looked at the phone, then felt a smile begin to take shape on his face. He replied with the greatest economy of phrasing.
"Great. I have a friend coming over with pizza tonight. Spencer."
He could hear Hotch's startled bark of laughter through the door, and the entire bullpen seemed to turn to look at his office simultaneously.
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onlyembers
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Date: Saturday, January 14th, 2012 22:24 (UTC)Here. Have a snippet of what I wrote last night. This is after a case where a young gay man was beaten by his strictly religious dad into assuming the identities of other gay men who he killed along the way. But that's only marginally important to this snippet:
Reid finished his report in record time, as usual annoyed only at the speed with which his fingers could type. It slowed him down.
Finished, he looked around the office, locating his team with a practised eye. JJ was in her office, no doubt already looking at the next case-files. Their date had prompted Reid into learning a little more about what JJ's work was, and he'd been duly impressed at the amount of files and cases she managed on a daily basis.
Morgan was chewing on the end of his pen, teeth-marks already grooved into the plastic. Reid knew he hadn't made it back to the hotel until just before they were to leave to get to the airport, but he showed no signs of missing his date. Knowing Morgan, it was unlikely he would. Morgan liked to love his ladies, but with the exception of his entirely platonic relationship with Garcia, he really didn't do relationships.
Prentiss was sweating over her own report, hair unusually mussed, and Reid remembered the idle talk suggesting maybe Prentiss was bisexual. Maybe the case had hit her harder because of that, maybe it was a reaction to seeing JJ openly happy with her boyfriend.
Rossi wasn't in his office, but chatting with one of the pretty agents who shared office-space with the team. Reid glanced back at Prentiss and caught the tail-end of the glance she'd sent Rossi. Interesting, and possibly more likely to be the reason for Prentiss's frazzled look than any of Reid's other theories.
Through the windows and the half-closed blinds he could see Hotch, head bent over his desk. He'd hung his suit-jacket on the back of the chair and rolled up his sleeves. Reid felt the slow burn of lust settle into his soft tissues, but he was getting used to the attraction. What threw him off balance was the visit fron Aaron.
He'd figured they were colleagues. Good colleagues, who could spend time together after work-hours. He'd thought those times were Hotch being a kind boss and mentor, and they had been. He'd known he lusted after Hotch. Trying to make yet another box for Aaron Hotchner, to hold all the things that belonged to Aaron, Reid's friend... well, it was threatening the stability of his entire system of compartmentalization.
Maybe it had been a one-off. One of those freak things that people sometimes did for no discernable rhyme or reason. And Hotch had had reason, that night.
Reid's thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his cellphone.
"Would you like some company bearing pizza, tonight? Aaron."
For a few long minutes, Reid just looked at his cellphone. Even after the screen dimmed and went blank. He was knocked out of his fugue-state by Rossi passing behind him and clapping him on the shoulder.
"Done already? You're making us all look bad."
Reid didn't later remember what he'd replied, which was rare for him. It prompted him to wake his phone up again, and stare at it some more. Consequently he almost threw it with a girly shriek when it buzzed in his hand, not three seconds later.
"If you're done with your report you can take an early day. Hotch."
Red looked at the phone, then felt a smile begin to take shape on his face. He replied with the greatest economy of phrasing.
"Great. I have a friend coming over with pizza tonight. Spencer."
He could hear Hotch's startled bark of laughter through the door, and the entire bullpen seemed to turn to look at his office simultaneously.