Title: In The Rain
Author: wildwordwomyn
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 387
Rating: G
Author’s Notes: Companion piece to "I Get By With A Little Help From My Friend and "A Shoulder To Lean On", which are below if you want to read them. This drabble can be read as a stand-alone or as part of a series.
Disclaimers/Warnings: Not real. You know that right? And I only wish I was getting paid for this!
Summary: Walking in the Seattle rain brings Spencer and Derek closer.

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Although the forecast in Seattle calls for sunny skies every resident out in the streets carries an umbrella as far as Spencer can tell. He’s read about the weather here. More than once, and still he’s walking around huddled inside his own jacket, following Hotch while trying to pretend he isn’t wishing the older man would be generous and offer a little space under his umbrella. Not that Hotch can’t be generous, or isn’t. He’s in profiler-mode right now so he doesn’t see that Spencer is shivering like a –

 

“Don’t you know to always carry an umbrella when we come to Seattle?” the voice questions Spencer like he’s half-cracked, yet it sighs indulgently. “You’re shaking. And wet. If you catch a cold and give it to me I'll beat you six ways from Sunday!”

 

“Derek, I-” And then Spencer sneezes.

 

“Spencer Reid!” Derek looks down at his bare forearm with distaste. Luckily it’s spit and not snot, but they’re both still grossed out.

 

“God, I’m sorry, Derek! Really really sorry!” Spencer tries to make it better by wiping at the contaminated arm with his sleeve, only the sleeve has a bit of mud on it from the crime scene and his wiping is spreading the mud onto Derek’s skin and clothes.

 

“Please.” That one word is a sigh.

 

Derek doesn’t say anything else to Spencer as they get in the SUVs and ride to the airport. Instead, to let Spencer know he’s not angry, or at least too angry, he moves his umbrella over to cover both himself and his colleague. Spencer smiles awkwardly, gratefully. When he shivers he turns his head so Derek won’t see his eyes, see that he has the fleeting image of a strong, muscular arm snaking around his shoulders as they stand there in the rain. He shakes off the image before it becomes more than fleeting, causing Derek to assume he needs body heat and walk closer to his side.

 

Though their high security clearance affords them the luxury of getting a single for every member of the team Hotch doubles up with Rossi and Emily with Garcia. He wishes JJ had come with them if only because he could’ve shared a room with her without either feeling the least bit awkward. Instead Spencer ends up having to share with Derek.

 

 

 

 

 

The End

 

***

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friend

 

 

Carrying a gun is a serious thing. Spencer Reid can attest to this. He doesn’t like them but the work that he does with the BAU requires him to be armed at all times. It’s come in handy more often than not, although he hates to admit it. Yet when he visits his mother in the mental hospital he feels naked without it. Any other place he’s fine. With her there are times when his fingers itch to curl around the handle, just to feel safe. Not from other patients housed there. From his mother. His index finger almost pulls the trigger in defense when she’s between meds and her schizophrenia is in full swing. If he was allowed to have it during the visits she might not be around anymore...

 

Every day at noon he pulls out his cell phone, then has to remind himself he can’t call to check up on her. He used to. Before Gideon found him. Before the BAU and Morgan and Garcia. Before Hotch got drunk one night after an Un Sub escaped and an innocent bystander was killed and he’d told him a little about his childhood. About the abuse. Spencer had felt sorry for him. Until the next day when he visited his mother and she attacked him with a plastic knife. Now he just looks at his cell, thumb poised over the number keys, breathing because it’s all he can do.

 

“Reid?” Derek calls, perched on the edge of his desk. “Earth to Dr. Spencer Reid…” He waves a smooth, strong hand in front of Spencer’s face to get his attention. “You in there?”

 

“What?” He jumps a fraction and puts his cell back in his pocket but Derek’s kind enough not to draw attention to it.

 

“Everyone else is gone for the night. You leavin’ or you gonna gather wool a little longer?”

 

“Hey, you know that saying-” Spencer can drop unknown, unfunny, usually unwanted facts at the drop of a hat and Derek knows it. He waves his hand again to shut Spencer up.

 

“Yeah, I know. And even if I don’t know, I still know.” Derek smiles softly down at Spencer. “Go home, kid. Try to get some sleep. You look like you need it. And eat something, okay? You’re too damn skinny!” He smiles to let Spencer see he doesn’t mean it as an insult.

 

“...I...” That's as far as Spencer gets before he gets lost in Derek's gaze. He can't think of anything to say, and he has no one to go home to except a beta fish named Bart. Spencer's lonelier than he's been in a long time, and the thought of being away from the BAU, from Derek or any of his other colleagues, scares and depresses him.

 

“Come on,” Derek calls affectionately, pulling Spencer up by his arm. “You need a drink!”

 

It doesn’t matter that Spencer has never really developed a taste for alcohol. Nor does it matter that he’s also never developed a taste for bars. He doesn’t drive (being behind the wheel makes him nervous) and conveniently missed the last bus so he’s stuck without a ride home. He protests only a little when the other man puts him in a loose headlock and rubs his head. The physical contact, the camaraderie, soothes him. He smiles, not that Derek can see it with his face pressed against a well-toned pectoral muscle. Derek just laughs and half drags him out of the office. When they pass the security guard on their way they both wave and tell him to be careful. The routine that Derek follows never changes. He releases Spencer, unlocks the doors and waits for any unusual noises, checks his Explorer inside and out, then slides gingerly into his seat.

 

Spencer feels safe with Derek, although he’s never told him so. Once he buckles up and Derek pulls out of his parking spot Spencer lets a small smile escape. This time Derek catches it and smiles back. Carrying a gun makes Spencer feel real enough sometimes, but being around Derek Morgan makes him feel alive all the time.

 

 

 

 

 

The End 

***

A Shoulder To Lean On

 

It’s not like a freight train barreling off the track. It’s more like floating on top of an ocean. It’s warm and slow and right. There’s time and reason and faith. This slow he can breathe and know what he’s doing is okay. Too fast and he would’ve bolted. This, though, this is moving at a good clip. Long distance is all about that. Don’t pace yourself and you burn out. You sprint full spead in the beginning and then you run on fumes until you end up with nothing left. Stopped in your tracks. So, yeah, he believes a rule like that should be one to follow when it comes to endurance.

 

So his hands, thin with long fingers, wrap around the throat. Not to kill like so many men he helps to profile but to caress. Soft skin, vulnerable, sweet. His fingers slip easily up the thick column seeking to repeat the shudders that come in waves. He sighs when the warm body moves against him. Spencer knows he’s dreaming but he can’t help sensing that whoever he’s dreaming about is well worth these subconscious thoughts. Of course, if Gideon were still around he’d laugh at him, prompting an uncomfortable Spencer to recite facts and figures about the nature and cause of dreams. Instead his dream-self cups the cheek turned his way, startled by the stubble that scratches when the dark brown eyes search his for reassurance-

 

Spencer instantly awakens on the BAU jet with his head leaning against Derek’s shoulder. He sits up quickly, apologizing, wiping a hand across his mouth in case there’s any drool. When Derek chuckles he smiles, until he notices that the man has stubble and dark brown eyes…

 

 

 

 

The End 

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