Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds… or at least that's what people keep telling me.
Having spent the better part of a decade practically living in unfamiliar hotel rooms, Spencer Reid had a pretty good understanding of how the next few nights would go. Hot shower, followed by hotter coffee before settling in the middle of the oversized bed with his back against the cool headboard surrounded by crime scene photos and barely legible notes, trying not to think of how desperately he wanted to lie down, allowing the cool sheets to press against his tired frame. Very rarely would he immediately go to bed, no matter how late it was. Even when the team did not have a case, Reid would spend a few hours trying to unwind before exhaustion finally took over and he could fall asleep. He spent the next two hours snacking on various treats from the vending machine while listening to Prentiss move about her hotel room, muttering the facts of the case out loud.
Close to three o'clock in the morning, Reid was debating between clearing off his bed and finally going to sleep or getting out the map and taking another look at the geographical profile. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stretches his feet forward, letting his heels dig into the hotel's dark carpet. He reaches his arms out toward his toes in a deep stretch in an effort to loosen the tightened muscles of his back before deciding it can wait till morning.
Dark hazel eyes dance behind closed lids while battling with visions that tiptoe on the line between a dream and a nightmare. The shrill sound of his phone's ringer piercing the darkness of the hotel room causes Reid to jump awake before the battle could be decided. He hangs up the phone before glancing at the digital blue light to see it was just after four in the morning. Sighing loudly, he climbs out of bed and hurriedly dresses before meeting Morgan near the elevator.
"This is…different" Prentiss offered while glancing around the motel's less than cheap furnishings.
"Tell me about it, I doubt this place has been redecorated, let alone cleaned, since the seventies," quipped Reid, taking a place between Morgan and Rossi along the room's back wall.
Rossi glanced up at Reid, "Hey, the seventies weren't this bad."
"I wouldn't know, I was born in the eighties, but I'll take your word for it." Reid answered with a crooked grin, only to earn a less than friendly glance from Rossi and a some-what friendly "Don't make me hit you" from Emily.
Reid's grin spread wider as Morgan smiled at him and said "Come on kid, Grandma and Grandpa are getting touchy."
"Morgan I swear, if we weren't at a crime scene…"
"Which we are, so can we start acting like it?" Hotch's voice echoing from the motel's bathroom caused an immediate end to any friendly jesting.
Completely focused, all four profilers began gathering around the bathroom door, Reid immediately kneeling to look at the bodies positioned on the cold tile floor. Both were fully dressed, the man in a dark blue suit, obviously tailored to fit, while the girl wore a dress which redefined the word short. "Do we know who they are?" Reid asked, looking up from what remained of the backs of the two victims' heads.
To say that he had lost count of the number of bodies he had seen over the years in various poses of death would be a lie. Reid knew the exact number of bodies, exactly what they looked like, and if the name had been known, he knew that, too. Knowing their names always made it more personal. The body immediately became a person. Someone who had lived a life, had a sense of humor, and liked to listen to music all because they now had a name. Reid knows it would be easier without the name, but his need to know always won.
"The girl's a prostitute, ran her license and got a hit almost immediately. The guy, well ID confirms it, but everyone kind of already knew who he was."
Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid all looked at the detective, waiting for him to finish. However, it was Hotch who gave them the needed information. Handing a wallet to Emily's gloved hand, he let out a tired sigh, "His name is Timothy Hartman, he's a congressman."
"Well, this just got messy. Well, messier" stated Rossi.
Even Prentiss had to smile after Hotch gave a short nod of his head muttering, "Well said, Grandpa" before walking out of the over-crowded room.
"Nothing was taken. All the victims still had their jewelry, wallets, purses, cash, phones. If not robbery than what?" Prentiss was trying to run through everything they knew about the case, while watching as Reid absent-mindedly balanced a quarter between his knuckles. "Always couples."
Reid put the quarter back in his pocket and stood up to examine the photos on the board.
Emily was sitting with both hands folded in her lap, watching as Reid scratched at his chin. Noticing that he hadn't had time to shave that morning, she couldn't help but wonder what he would look like with a little more facial hair.
If current observations offered any insight into the future, she would be willing to wager that it might help show a little more of the good doctor's hidden sex appeal.
Well not too hidden she thought, studying what Garcia had deemed to be his 'smart pout'. He was staring at the map, chin angled down, his eyes were barely squinted and brow furrowed, but what really completed the look was the way he had his mouth opened with his bottom lip sticking out ever so slightly. Once in a while, he would bring the lip into his mouth, biting it while he sorted out whatever thoughts were racing through his head. "I'm sorry what?" was all she could manage while attempting not to blush when curious hazel eyes stared at her.
"I said Garcia found something."
Reid never knows how to classify his feelings about the flight home. He doesn't mind flying, and he is always ready to return home. He just hates the waiting. The feeling of closure that comes from finishing a case just seems to be incomplete until he gets home. The journey from point A to point B just draws out the time.
Glancing up, he notices Emily pouring a cup of coffee. He waits, knowing she is about to put exactly two packets of Splenda into her cup, she always does. She has a thoughtful look on her face, almost as if she is trying to put all of her attention into that one cup of coffee.
She absently tucks her hair behind her ear, but a strand falls loose, lying against her cheek. She turns and her dark eyes find his before he has a chance to look away. Reid just offers a lopsided grin, which she returns with a full smile.
"I thought you were going to try and get some sleep?" She asks while sliding onto the couch next to him.
"Too wired," he simply answers as he eyes the steam flowing from her cup.
"It's probably all of the coffee you've consumed in the last two days. How've you been sleeping?"
He looked up at her curiously. "I only ask, because you've seemed extra tired lately, and seem to actually live off of caffeine."
"I'm just having trouble sleeping. It's nothing new." Noticing the look of concern in her eyes, he quickly added, "It will pass, it always does."
"Are the headaches still bad?"
"No, they've gotten better. It's, …I have nightmares." Remembering Morgan's reaction when he had confided that fact to him, he waited for her response.
"I try not to sleep."
He looked up, confusion obviously written on his face, because she gave a half shrug before finishing, "In order to avoid the nightmares, I try not to sleep. Eventually I get so exhausted that when I do sleep, I don't dream."
"Actually, you have hundreds of dreams each night, you just might be too exhausted to remember any."
She didn't say anything in response. She just tested her coffee again before looking back up and staring straight into his hazel eyes. "I read sometimes, or do crossword puzzles right before bed. I guess I kind of hope that it will take my mind off of what case we're working on."
"I read, too. I used to try watching TV, but infomercials aren't that interesting."
"I wish I could agree with you, but my credit card statement would prove that I'd be lying."
Reid grinned at her confession, imagining her cuddled up with Sergio while wrapped in a blanket with sleeves. "I watch movies now instead," he admitted before even thinking about it.
"Let me guess, science fiction and documentaries."
A wide grin spread across his face as he gently shook his head, letting out a childish "Nope."
Her head tilted to the side as she asked, "Anything I might of heard of?"
"Don't know. Ever hear of Abbot and Castello?"
This time her grin matched his. "You know Reid, for some reason that doesn't surprise me. Personally, I love Abbot and Castello Meet Frankenstein."
"I have it on DVD. Maybe sometime we can go to the theaters and see a movie together."
"I'd like that Reid." He watched as Emily began to take a larger sip of her steadily cooling coffee.
She sat her coffee down and gave him a serious, but caring stare, "Reid, you know if you ever have trouble with… anything… nightmares or just can't sleep, you can call me right?"
"I know, and you know you can always call me right?"
"Always." She cradled her coffee and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes.
"Hey, Emily, thank you."
"Thank you, too, Reid."
Eyes still closed, she whispered, "Hey Reid, you want to watch a movie tonight?"
"Sure, which one do you want to see?"
"I'm thinking Abbott and Castello Meet Frankestein."
"Um, Emily… I don't think they're showing that in theaters right now."
"I know," she whispered through a grin.
A/N: This wasn't supposed to be a Reid/Emily thing. In a way, it can be just friendship or pre-romance; it's up to you. Please let me know what you think.
This was intended to be an one-shot. However, if anyone would like me to continue let me know. Also, if I do continue, let me know if you want it to stay as friendship or move on to a romantic type thing.