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The thing about Girl’s Night is that it was rarely just for the girls. Derek often joined in, the goading by Penelope unnecessary, especially when the plans involved dancing or checking out newly opened nighttime establishments. Rossi invited himself along for many a dinner and drink, footing the bill when he wasn’t charming them with his skills in the kitchen. They had welcomed Will in as well, and would crowd JJ’s home so they could coo both at Henry and his father’s Southern drawl. Hotch was the rarest inclusion, to the surprise of absolutely no one, but there had been the occasional privileged experience of having him join them for a drink and, on one extremely memorable occasion, a wine and paint night.
Reid was a familiar presence at these nights as well. The chances were highest when the three women wanted a relaxed night in, making popcorn and colorful drinks in Penelope’s blender while they threw M&Ms at trashy flicks. It had just as much to do with the consistent promise of good drinks and good company as it did with the fact that he generally didn’t have any other plans.
But on this Thursday night, as he fumbled to sit up on the couch, surrounded by three gawking faces, Reid was starting to think he should really, really start making other plans.
It began with a question.
Scratch that, it began with Garcia misplacing her cocktail jigger and deciding to freehand the margaritas instead.
“You realize we do still have work tomorrow, right?” Emily noted, watching the heavy-handed pour of tequila go into the blender skeptically.
“Oh, please it will be fine. I must have a sixth sense for this by now and I promise they will be especially delicious.”
(It would not be fine)
(Although it would be, indeed, delicious)
A couple of hours and more than a couple of drinks later they were sprawled out in the living room. Garcia lounged in a plush purple beanbag she had recently acquired online, and Emily curled up on the armchair closest to the kitchen. Reid sprawled contentedly on the couch, his head in JJ’s lap where she amused herself by braiding strands of his hair.
The TV was playing some movie that no one paid attention to, volume long ago muted so they could better hear each other’s commentary and life updates.
It was Emily’s turn for the latter.
“Ugh I still have to go through all these boxes of my old stuff my mom had sent over last week. You thought that photo of me Garcia uncovered was bad? You should read some of the stuff I found scrawled in my old yearbooks. I definitely blocked out more of my teenage years than I had realized.”
JJ raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t even know they had yearbooks abroad.”
“Unfortunately, they did at my schools.”
“Well give us the juicy deets! Was it pages of heartfelt end-of-the-year confessions by the girls and boys who sat next to you in science class? Or classics like ‘2 good + 2 be = 4 gotten.’”
“God, I had one friend circle her Fuck, Marry, Kill choices when she signed mine. She helpfully scrawled each choice in all caps around each of their faces so I would never forget.”
JJ let out a chuckle. “Speaking of things we’ve blocked out,” she said shaking her head.
“What does that mean?” Reid asked, eyes half closed under JJ’s comforting touch.
Garcia cackled, eyes lighting up with glee. “Ohmigod hun have you never played Fuck, Marry, Kill? Or it’s less interesting counterpart: Kiss, Marry, Kill.”
Reid shook his head.
“It’s just one of those sleepover games teens play together. You name three people, usually celebrities or people you know, and everyone has to choose who they would fuck, who they’d marry, and who they’d kill,” JJ explained.
“Those seem like rather extreme choices.”
“Noooo it can be so much fun. Look we’ll try one,” Garcia whined and clapped her hands with delight before narrowing in on her target. “Emily. Fuck, Marry, Kill: Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi.”
Emily gave a dramatic sigh and scrunched her face in disgust. “Oh god I only have myself to blame for this, don’t I. Well, okay, obviously I’d sleep with Morgan, because Pen would kill me if I tried to kill him off.” Garcia gave a nod of approval. Possibly confirming the threat. “I guess I’d marry Rossi? At least I’d get a mansion out of it. Oof, sorry Hotch,” she finished, miming a slit throat with a cluck of her tongue.
Garcia gave out a gasp. “You’re abandoning the single father?? So rude.”
“Oh really? Give us your choices then.”
“Well OBVIOUSLY I would marry my Chocolate Thunder so I would never be without him. And we would have the sweetest and dirtiest and most passionate and—”
“Yeah, yeah we get it. You’re telling me you would fuck Hotch then? JJ are you with her on this?”
“Mmm well I’m assuming Will’s out of the picture, so I’d probably marry Hotch and we could raise the boys together. It could be a professional marriage.”
Emily gestured victoriously. “See? Professional.”
“Oh shush, no man is your type Emily. Your opinions are useless. JJ c’mon you have to agree our Bossman has it going on! Those suits?”
“I mean, I agree he’s in good shape. But when Morgan’s in the picture?”
Garcia tapped a finger against her lips consideringly. “It’s a different energy. Liiike, Derek’s got to be loud in bed. But Hotch gives off that delectable strong, silent type vibe you know?”
Reid gave an absent grin and chimed in helpfully.
“He’s actually more talkative than you’d expect.”
Emily snickered. “Hotch? Talkative? Are we thinking of the same man?”
“Yeah. He checks in a lot but he’s also very...complimentary.”
JJ raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And how would you kn—” she cut herself off abruptly, her smile vanishing as her inebriated brain slowly processed what Reid had said. Emily and Garcia were a step ahead of her, brains switching gears to blink incredulously at an oblivious Reid. He gave a disconcerted hum when he realized JJ had stopped playing with his hair.
JJ cleared her throat and tried to make her tone of voice as unobtrusive and sweet as possible.
“Spence? How would you know that?”
A confused furrow developed between his eyebrows. “Know what?” He ran the conversation back in his head. His mind had gone a little fuzzy after the third margarita. Or maybe it was after the vodka popsicle Garcia had brought out for them to try. They had just been joking around about—
Reid sat up. He fought the dizziness as his body adjusted to the rapid movement. “I don’t know anything,” he stammered.
“Oh my god,” whispered a wide-eyed Garcia.
Panicking, Reid went on. “I was just speculating, a hypothesis, unconfirmed, like you all. Wasn’t that the point of the game? I’m pretty sure that was the point of the game.” He adamantly ignored the flush rising on his cheeks
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “You said ‘he’s actually more talkative than you’d expect,’” she repeated slowly. “There was no speculation anywhere in that statement. That was a statement of fact.”
“Oh my god.”
“Impossible. Facts have to be verifiable, proven to be true. You know truth is one of the largest concepts explored in philosophy?"
“Oh my god.”
“As far as I’m concerned, there is only one way for you to be able to verify this truth. Well,” Emily cocked her head in concession. “Okay, more than one way, but I really doubt you could ever pull off being a peeping tom or a scenario where you got your hands on a Hotchner sex tape.”
“Oh my god.”
“Emily!”
“What?!”
Spencer started to bounce his leg, taking their brief distraction to plot an escape. JJ brought her hand firmly down on his thigh, swiftly foiling any such hopes.
“Spence, I am only going to ask you this once. I want a yes or no answer. Did you sleep with Hotch?”
“Oh my GOD.”
Reid’s flush deepened and he wet his lips nervously. “I—no?” He winced at his own high-pitched denial, and then again at his friends’ entirely unconvinced faces.
“OH MY GOD!”
“Penelope, focus!” Emily said snapping her fingers in front of the gawking woman.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just—I just can’t believe this! How did we not know?? You guys are supposed to be profilers! I depend on you for these insights! I have so many questions! Who? What? When? Where? How? Why? Okay maybe I know the who and the what but WHEN? I need every detail of this one-night stand.”
Reid gulped nervously. “You know the idea that time is an illusion, a quote often attributed to Albert Einstein, relates—”
“Oh my god.” Emily said cutting him off. She ignored the exasperated look JJ threw at her. “It happened more than once didn’t it?”
Penelope let out an audible gasp.
Reid groaned and buried his face in his hands. “What are the chances that you will let this go and never, ever ask me about it again?”
“0. Negative 600. I am fully prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure that this is the only thing we ever talk about again for the rest of time.”
Reid whined unhappily.
“How did we miss this? Was it when I was in Paris?”
“Or when I was at the State Department?”
Reid finally decided that speaking hadn’t worked out so well for him so far and stayed quiet. Maybe if he ignored them, they would stop. He stared dutifully at the floor from between his fingers. It was a nice floor. It hadn’t betrayed him.
“Oh my GOD it wasn’t, was it!”
Reid felt irrationally betrayed by the floor.
“We were all here and we missed it? Spencer! You’ve been sleeping with the boss and none of us knew?”
At this, Reid did lift his head up from his hands.
“….to be fair Aaron said he was pretty sure Rossi figured it out.”
“AARON” JJ mouthed to herself, eyes wide. Garcia scowled.
“Of course he did. That closed-mouth son of a –”
“Okay I need another drink, so we’re all getting another drink,” Emily declared, standing up and wobbling over to the kitchen.
“I really don’t think I should ever drink again actually,” Reid responded plaintively.
“Too bad,” Emily yelled. She strode back over with the tequila bottle in hand and proceeded to pour them all shots.
“Alright here’s the deal kid. You either answer our questions or you drink. And if you drink, we’ll probably just ask you the same question again. Something to keep in mind.”
“I—I don’t accept this deal Emily.”
“Too bad,” Emily repeated stonily, before throwing her own shot back with nary a wince. JJ and Garcia gazed in amazement. Reid stared aghast. Emily swiped the back of her hand across her lips and gestured to JJ.
“Jayje you go first.”
“Well, we never got an answer. Spence, exactly when did this happen?”
Reid flushed.
Emily pushed the full shot glass closer to him.
The flush took on a green-ish tinge.
“It was a long time ago!”
“Exactly how long ago?”
Pinned down by three stares, Reid mumbled something incoherently.
Emily picked up the shot glass and waved it under his nose.
“It was right before he signed his divorce papers,” Reid mumbled a little louder, leaning as far back from the offending drink as possible.
“This just gets better and better,” Garcia breathed out, pressing her hands against her cheeks in delight.
“I believe the lady asked exactly when Doctor Reid.”
“She did. I mean—I did,” JJ nodded emphatically.
Reid rubbed the back of his neck looking defeated. “Um, do you guys remember the custodial interview Hotch and I had with Chester Hardwick?”
Emily thought back. “Yeah I remember that. He agreed to an interview right before his execution date. But it turned out to be a set up right?”
Reid nodded. “Yeah, Hardwick had timed everything with the plan to kill us before the guards could let us back out. But I managed to distract him with a lecture about his mental state and why he was killing those women until the guards came back.”
“What aren’t you telling us?”
Reid scratched at his jaw. “Just, before I started talking, Hotch was getting ready to physically defend us and take Hardwick on if he had to.”
“Ooooh, so he went all alpha male and turned you on didn’t he,” Garcia crooned.
Reid blushed furiously. “I—it was—that’s not the point. It was just all very unlike him, you know. Preparing to basically fight to the death. Against a man who had killed at least twenty-three women! And I mean, you all have to remember how stressed he was after Hayley took Jack and left him. He was working himself half to death.”
“Ohhhhh I see, so you told him he could work YOU half to death instead huh?” Garcia teased.
Against all-natural laws of physics, Spencer’s blush deepened. He glanced away shiftily. “Something like that.”
“WHAT!” the tech genius shrieked. “I was joking!”
JJ whacked Spencer on the shoulder with the back of her hand and ignored his resulting pout. “Explain. Now.”
“I um, suggested, um. On the ride back from the prison. I said if he, um, pulled into the next motel I could show him a better way to relieve stress. Than preparing to fight convicted serial killers I mean.”
Emily gave an astonished laugh. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.” JJ raised her eyebrows. “But he, well…he pulled into the next motel we passed…so...”
“Wow. Just—wow. Boy Wonder you really are a Wonder.” There was a moment of silence where the three women stared at their genius in amazement while Reid stared at his hands and quietly regretted every life decision that had led to this moment.
“Okay now for the real details. Are you watching?” Reid looked up dutifully to see Garcia press her palms together in prayer position. “You tell me when to stop okay?” She started to move her hands apart, much to Reid’s confusion, and then swift horror. “Seriously? Oh my god, no, no way, okay this is just unrealistic, I’m starting over.”
“Oh, leave the boy alone before he has a stroke.”
“Yeah, besides, it’s Reid, he doesn’t need visual references. I’m sure he could tell us down to the centimeter from memory,” Emily said waggling her eyebrows.
“I hate all of you. I am never crashing girl’s night ever again.”
“You love us. You’ll be back.”
“Well don’t hold out on us! How was it?”
“Um—”
“I mean it must have been hot. Especially if you’re saying this was post fight-or-flight adrenaline rush on both ends," JJ speculated.
Emily nodded in agreement. “True. That sounds like some major tension build up. The breaking point would have to be particularly blissful.”
“I never really thought about it, but I can see Hotch being one of those roguish, throw you against the wall kind of types.”
“Definitely. And we’ve seen how intense he can get when he focuses all his attention on a suspect or a victim. I bet that kind of attention on a partner….are we on the right track?”
They looked over at Reid.
“Spence?” JJ tried again. Emily just let out a low whistle. Reid was looking off into the distance, eyes glazed over and rubbing the knuckles of his right hand absently against his lips.
“That good huh?” JJ said in an impressed tone, nudging him with an elbow.
That snapped Reid out of his reverie and he quickly dropped his hand, reaching out to grab a couch cushion to clutch in his lap, much to the women's amusement.
“He’s just…very considerate,” he croaked out.
Garcia fanned herself with one hand, the other reaching for her drink. “And talkative apparently.”
“And it happened more than once?” Emily pried.
Reid nodded slowly.
“How many more times?”
Long fingers plucked at the flower stitching on the cushion. Spencer bit the inside of his cheek and darted his glance around the room. “I don’t remember.”
Emily tapped her nose. “Likely story 187. Alright, I’ll let you plead the Fifth. How about this instead: when was the last time?”
Somehow this made Reid look even more uncomfortable. It only served to raise the level of intrigue in the room.
“My darling, if you say this morning I will absolutely scream,” Garcia said in a measured tone while looking entirely ready to gear up and cause some neighborly noise complaints.
Reid went wide-eyed. “No, no! It was…it was right before Foyet’s attack.”
“Oh,” Garcia said sadly. There was a somber moment as everyone reflected on the brutal scars and lives lost by the sadistic man.
Then the tech-goddess’ eyes narrowed beneath her thick frames. “Wait a minute, that means…why that must have been over a year after the Hardwick interview.”
Reid froze. He found himself eyeing the tequila shot sitting in front of him. Maybe he had been too rash in cutting himself off.
“Oh my god,” Garcia breathed out softly.
“What? What is it?” Emily pressed.
“It wasn’t just sex, was it?”
Spencer took the tequila shot.
“Oh. Oh Spence,” JJ said gently, reaching out to him. Reid shifted away to avoid her touch, dropping the glass onto the carpet and pressing back against the couch to draw his long legs up and curl into himself.
“It’s not—It’s fine. It’s not like either of us expected it to last. He’s, he’s my boss! We shouldn’t have, I mean, I shouldn’t have—nothing ever should have happened in the first place.”
But Emily, now clued in, was piecing something together in her head. “Is that why it ended?”
Reid swallowed, but shook his head. “Not—not exactly.”
“Reid…did Hotch break up with you because he was worried Foyet would find out about you?”
“No.”
Emily stared unblinking. Reid stared back. Garcia and JJ looked back and forth like they were watching a tennis match instead of the world’s oldest version of a lie detector test.
Reid broke. Emily smirked in victory.
“He didn’t break up with me,” Reid protested, his voice gaining in pitch. “We just decided it would be safer not to see each other for a while. And then, you know, everything else happened, and there was Jack to think of, and…yeah,” he trailed off.
“Wow. You really did Fuck Marry AND Kill Hotch.”
“What?”
“Well you fucked him, you practically married him, and then you killed any chance of future happiness together.”
“We were not married!” Spencer yelped.
“You expect me to believe that? I don’t know what other secrets you’ve been hiding in that hair of yours! You were dating our boss for a year and a half!” Garcia screeched back.
This time, Reid bypassed the glasses and reached for the tequila bottle instead. Fortunately, JJ was faster and stood up to pull the bottle out of his reach.
“I’m cutting you off,” she said, and then proceeded to lose her balance. “On second thought, I’m cutting us all off.”
Emily stumbled upright. “Yeah I think I’ve learned all I can handle for tonight. C’mon loverboy we can share a cab.” She dragged Reid up and the three of them stumbled towards the door.
“Get home safe my sweets. We should do this again soon!” Penelope called out.
“We most definitely should not,” Reid mumbled in his final words of protest before Emily dragged him out the door.
Morgan busied himself with the coffee machine. He was the first one in the office today, with the exception of Hotch who was already in a meeting upstairs. Morgan had woken up early to take his sister to the airport and had decided to come straight to work afterwards. He was still a little surprised to find himself there before Reid.
Speaking of whom—
“Damn Pretty Boy. Rough night?” Morgan said, barely holding back a laugh.
Reid was making a slow shuffle in from the elevators, eyes hidden behind sunglasses and hair having seen better days. His tie was even more crooked as usual, and Morgan was fairly sure that his cardigan had missed a button. He watched as Reid stumbled to his desk, collapsed into his chair, and buried his head into his arms.
Morgan helpfully filled a mug with coffee and sugar. He slid it carefully onto the desk next to the rumpled curls.
Reid tilted his head up at the sound and groaned in pleasure, reaching to wrap his hands around the mug. “You’re my best and only friend Derek Morgan. A king among men.”
“Damn right I am. What the hell happened to you? I thought you and the girls were supposed to have a relaxed night in?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Reid mumbled, taking a few large gulps of his coffee. Once it had been drained, he pushed it aside to burrow down in his arms again.
Morgan raised his eyebrows. He was prevented from further questioning by the arrival of a queasy looking JJ. She clutched a travel mug of coffee tightly in one hand while using the other to shield her eyes from the bright linoleum lights. JJ ignored both Morgan and Reid and simply sat down silently, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples.
Morgan’s bemusement grew.
“I found this one on what may have been her third trip up and down the elevator,” Rossi called out, tugging along a disastrous looking Emily. She winced from behind her dark sunglasses at the sound of his voice.
“Dave, I’m begging you, keep it down,” she groaned. Rossi shook his head and guided the suffering soul to the coffee machine. She filled herself a mug and leaned back against the counter with a heavy sigh.
“Alright, what the hell happened to you all?” Morgan asked incredulously. “This cannot be the aftermath of a movie night. On a Thursday no less.”
“Not. Talking. About It.” Reid repeated despondently. JJ and Emily let out matching miserable sounds that could be interpreted as agreement.
Morgan and Rossi shared a look. “I’m guessing Garcia isn’t it in yet?”
“No, but I think I need to text my Baby Girl, make sure she—”
“Good Morning my Lovelies!”
Everyone but Reid turned to see the bright face of Garcia striding in. She was dressed vibrantly in a turquoise patterned dress with a properly matching hairpiece and fuchsia framed glasses.
“Dear god Garcia. How are you possibly this chipper and put together,” Emily said scrunching her face with distaste.
“Oh, my chickpea, don’t get me wrong, I cried a little when my alarm went off and I definitely threw up at least three times in the shower. But then my memories from last night came back to me and cheered me right up!”
Morgan was fairly sure Reid let out a muffled hiss at that. It was hard to tell since the he still refused to lift his head.
“Speaking of,” Garcia dug through her purse for a moment before brandishing a sparkly magenta glitter ruler. She slapped it down on Reid’s desk with a loud thwap. Reid jumped up and squinted at the offending object. He slowly tugged off his sunglasses to confirm the sight before his eyes.
“That’s for you. To help jog your memories so you can give me that answer we talked about,” Garcia beamed.
Emily choked on her coffee.
Reid gaped before haphazardly grabbing the ruler and shoving it into the lowest drawer in his desk. He slammed the drawer shut with a seething glare. Morgan and Rossi exchanged another look.
“This is a toxic work environment,” their youngest agent complained.
“I don’t think that’s the Brittany Spears reference I would use to describe this workplace.”
“I—”
“I’m thinking you’re somewhere between ‘Man on the Moon’ and ‘Clumsy’ right now.”
“Garcia," Reid tried again.
“What, are you going to go to Hotch’s office with a letter of resignation and see how far he’ll go to make you stay?” Garcia purred, with a dirty gleam in her eyes.
Reid stared at her in mute horror. Emily and JJ shook their heads solemnly.
Garcia’s smirk slowly faded.
“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”
Hotch cleared his throat from where he had walked up behind her.
“Good morning everyone. We’ve got a case come in from Wyoming. Roundtable in 20.”
Emily muttered some curses under her breath and pushed off the counter towards her desk. Garcia escaped to her cave with a final saucy wink and insinuating hand gesture at Reid, followed closely by Morgan who fully expected to get some answers before the case meeting. JJ gave Hotch an unreadable look before delving into the papers on her desk. Rossi calmly ambled up to his office, oblivious to the curse-filled email from Garcia waiting for him in his inbox.
Reid slowly moved to stand, hyperaware of Hotch’s presence.
“Reid.”
“Yes?”
“Are you planning to resign?”
“The likelihood increases with each passing moment.”
Hotch gave him a curious look. “Alright. Let me know if things change.”
Reid nodded miserably and moved to head to the roundtable. He figured he would need the entire 20 minutes to make the trip in his current sorry state. Hotch followed as he made his way to his office.
“She’s right you know,” Hotch murmured lowly, causing Reid to miss a step on the stairs.
Hotch steadied him with a solid hand on his back. He let it linger for a split second longer than necessary, and Reid turned his head to catch the older man’s gaze.
“I would go to great lengths to keep you around.”
He gave Reid a small smile and moved past the speechless genius into his office.
Well, Reid thought, shaking himself off and continuing towards the conference room. Maybe he would have some plans other than Girl’s Night soon.