FIC: Favorable Odds, Hotch/Reid, PG
Title: Favorable Odds
Author: darkhawkhealer
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: PG
Word Count: 880
Warnings: None that I know of!
Summary: Spencer's always had a knack with turning long shots into favorable odds.
Note: Post 5.05 ficlet.
It doesn't take twenty minutes after the announcement is made for the pool to start up. Contrary to popular belief, it's not Garcia running it, either. JJ's taking bets quietly, with a speculative gleam in her eye, and Reid's not complaining -- much -- because at least it's a distraction from the dismal circumstances of Morgan's 'promotion'.
Spencer tells himself it's his exasperation at the betting pool that keeps him from making his move. Well, that and curiosity. He wants to see if Hotch will pick up on the hints everyone -- the meddlesome, nosy yentas, and Dave the worst of them all -- keeps dropping. If he's honest, it's mildly entertaining to watch the girls giggle and exchange 'secret' smiles with each other. It doesn't hurt that Morgan's complaining, loudly and to anyone who will listen, about the downsides to being the boss. The fact that he's not supposed to know about the wagers, much less make his own, may have been mentioned once or twice...a day.
No, nerves have nothing to do with it. After all, this is the man Spencer's worked with for years. He's known him through good times and through bad, and Spencer wouldn't be any kind of profiler if he didn't have a little more than a basic understanding of Aaron Hotchner's personality. If Hotch turns him down, he'll do it gently, and it will never be mentioned again. It will sting, but he's been through worse, and this is worth it.
So he keeps a set of casual clothes in his go bag, and he waits for an opportune moment. It comes maybe three weeks after the changeover. The case is solved, and it's a win. They're taking the night, and flying back in the morning. Besides, if Emily pokes at him one more time...
Either way, Spencer's standing in front of Hotch's door that evening. A quick knock and then he's leaning against the doorjamb, trying to calm the fluttering in his stomach. If his hands tremble, it's because they're cold, and that's why they go into his pockets as the door swings open. Hotch takes a step back, not expecting him to be so close, and Spencer's lips curve into a smile. Hotch, Aaron, has taken his tie off, unbuttoned his collar, and rolled his sleeves up. He's in for the night.
"Hey."
"Reid," Aaron leans against the open door, mirroring his posture. "Is something wrong?"
Spencer shakes his head. "No, nothing. I just found out that one of my favorite musicians is playing in town tonight. Come with me, I'll buy you a drink."
Aaron blinks. "It's nice of you to offer, but --"
"Hotch," he interrupts, not willing to let this go as gracefully as he'd thought, "What are you doing?"
He frowns. "Going over the case, writing my preliminary report."
"Something you can, and probably will, do tomorrow on the plane? Come on. Good music, good alcohol, maybe some halfway decent food." Spencer's not above playing dirty. He injects a note of teasing into his voice. "My knee hurts, and everyone knows I got shot because I was worried about you."
Aaron shoots him a sharp look. "Are you trying to guilt me into going out with you?"
Spencer shrugs, unrepentant. "Whatever works."
"Reid, what is this about?"
Spencer tilts his head, looks at Aaron steadily. "You're not my direct supervisor anymore," he says, and watches the flash of irritation melt away in the face of dawning realization.
"So everyone keeps telling me."
"Come have a drink with me," he repeats, unable to keep the sheer longing out of his voice.
"There's going to come a point when I'm your boss again," Aaron warns, rocking back on his heels.
Spencer can't stop the flash of amusement or the smile that follows. "I didn't get to be the youngest profiler in the BAU by letting the best chances of my life pass me by."
Now Aaron can't stop the smile, though he tries. One corner of his mouth curls up and he raises his brows, trying to look stern. "We're going to have to talk about this."
"Okay," Spencer agrees. "Let's do it over a drink."
Aaron sighs a little. "Let me get dressed, and I'll meet you downstairs."
Spencer straightens and gives him a slow, thorough once-over, lingering at the pulse point that jumps just under Aaron's open collar. "Just put your shoes on," he says, and lifts his shoulder a little. "I like you like this."
Now he doesn't bother trying to hide the amusement. "I'll see you downstairs."
Spencer grins and heads towards the elevator. His mobility has gotten better, but he can still use the lead time, if only to smirk at Morgan when he comes out of the elevator and stops short at seeing Aaron's door close.
Morgan looks between Spencer and the door, then grins and shakes his head. "Maybe it's a good thing I didn't place that bet, after all."
He's not surprised. Spencer's used to making his own luck, and as long as he has a chance, he's calling it good. Chances of this going anywhere are pretty slim, but he's worked with worse, and Spencer's always had a knack with turning long shots into favorable odds.
Author: darkhawkhealer
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: PG
Word Count: 880
Warnings: None that I know of!
Summary: Spencer's always had a knack with turning long shots into favorable odds.
Note: Post 5.05 ficlet.
It doesn't take twenty minutes after the announcement is made for the pool to start up. Contrary to popular belief, it's not Garcia running it, either. JJ's taking bets quietly, with a speculative gleam in her eye, and Reid's not complaining -- much -- because at least it's a distraction from the dismal circumstances of Morgan's 'promotion'.
Spencer tells himself it's his exasperation at the betting pool that keeps him from making his move. Well, that and curiosity. He wants to see if Hotch will pick up on the hints everyone -- the meddlesome, nosy yentas, and Dave the worst of them all -- keeps dropping. If he's honest, it's mildly entertaining to watch the girls giggle and exchange 'secret' smiles with each other. It doesn't hurt that Morgan's complaining, loudly and to anyone who will listen, about the downsides to being the boss. The fact that he's not supposed to know about the wagers, much less make his own, may have been mentioned once or twice...a day.
No, nerves have nothing to do with it. After all, this is the man Spencer's worked with for years. He's known him through good times and through bad, and Spencer wouldn't be any kind of profiler if he didn't have a little more than a basic understanding of Aaron Hotchner's personality. If Hotch turns him down, he'll do it gently, and it will never be mentioned again. It will sting, but he's been through worse, and this is worth it.
So he keeps a set of casual clothes in his go bag, and he waits for an opportune moment. It comes maybe three weeks after the changeover. The case is solved, and it's a win. They're taking the night, and flying back in the morning. Besides, if Emily pokes at him one more time...
Either way, Spencer's standing in front of Hotch's door that evening. A quick knock and then he's leaning against the doorjamb, trying to calm the fluttering in his stomach. If his hands tremble, it's because they're cold, and that's why they go into his pockets as the door swings open. Hotch takes a step back, not expecting him to be so close, and Spencer's lips curve into a smile. Hotch, Aaron, has taken his tie off, unbuttoned his collar, and rolled his sleeves up. He's in for the night.
"Hey."
"Reid," Aaron leans against the open door, mirroring his posture. "Is something wrong?"
Spencer shakes his head. "No, nothing. I just found out that one of my favorite musicians is playing in town tonight. Come with me, I'll buy you a drink."
Aaron blinks. "It's nice of you to offer, but --"
"Hotch," he interrupts, not willing to let this go as gracefully as he'd thought, "What are you doing?"
He frowns. "Going over the case, writing my preliminary report."
"Something you can, and probably will, do tomorrow on the plane? Come on. Good music, good alcohol, maybe some halfway decent food." Spencer's not above playing dirty. He injects a note of teasing into his voice. "My knee hurts, and everyone knows I got shot because I was worried about you."
Aaron shoots him a sharp look. "Are you trying to guilt me into going out with you?"
Spencer shrugs, unrepentant. "Whatever works."
"Reid, what is this about?"
Spencer tilts his head, looks at Aaron steadily. "You're not my direct supervisor anymore," he says, and watches the flash of irritation melt away in the face of dawning realization.
"So everyone keeps telling me."
"Come have a drink with me," he repeats, unable to keep the sheer longing out of his voice.
"There's going to come a point when I'm your boss again," Aaron warns, rocking back on his heels.
Spencer can't stop the flash of amusement or the smile that follows. "I didn't get to be the youngest profiler in the BAU by letting the best chances of my life pass me by."
Now Aaron can't stop the smile, though he tries. One corner of his mouth curls up and he raises his brows, trying to look stern. "We're going to have to talk about this."
"Okay," Spencer agrees. "Let's do it over a drink."
Aaron sighs a little. "Let me get dressed, and I'll meet you downstairs."
Spencer straightens and gives him a slow, thorough once-over, lingering at the pulse point that jumps just under Aaron's open collar. "Just put your shoes on," he says, and lifts his shoulder a little. "I like you like this."
Now he doesn't bother trying to hide the amusement. "I'll see you downstairs."
Spencer grins and heads towards the elevator. His mobility has gotten better, but he can still use the lead time, if only to smirk at Morgan when he comes out of the elevator and stops short at seeing Aaron's door close.
Morgan looks between Spencer and the door, then grins and shakes his head. "Maybe it's a good thing I didn't place that bet, after all."
He's not surprised. Spencer's used to making his own luck, and as long as he has a chance, he's calling it good. Chances of this going anywhere are pretty slim, but he's worked with worse, and Spencer's always had a knack with turning long shots into favorable odds.