For the Love of Baked Goods
A/N: Hello again. I dug this piece out of the back of my computer and I rather liked it. It's written for when Reid is still on crutches. I really should be working on my amazing (sorta) case-fic, but I keep getting distracted… Ah, well, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable. Including, but not limited to: Criminal Minds, its characters, crutches, or muffins (I do have brownies and cookies, though…)
---
Lose an hour in the morning and you will all day be hunting for it.
~Richard Whatley
---
Spencer Reid took his time in waking up. He hadn't heard his alarm yet, which meant he could just enjoy whatever small amount of time he had left in bed. However, about five minutes after rolling over and curling up under a mass of blankets, he realized something was not right. He never had never woken up before his alarm without probable cause before now. He usually awoke with his alarm and got up.
Glancing up at his battered alarm clock, he realized exactly what was wrong. His trusty old alarm clock had finally decided to die on him after so many mornings of being abused by Reid's spectacular displays of early-morning clumsiness. Reaching for his phone, Reid found out what time it really was- and jumped out of bed.
He was supposed to have gotten up half an hour ago. It was okay, though, he assured himself, he would just have to skip breakfast. Skipping meals here and there was nothing new to Reid; he was prone to getting wrapped up in things and forgetting to eat or running out of time to eat, or simply neglecting meals. Honestly, he would have been fine with skipping breakfast- save for the fact he had been looking over a particularly interesting file for a friend and while he was sure his notes would be helpful, he hadn't gotten around to eating dinner last night.
But there was no time to dwell on his lack of sustenance, he thought as he ransacked his drawers for clothes, he had to hurry if he wanted to make it to work on time. However, after digging through his dresser for a good two minutes, he quickly grew frustrated. He couldn't find anything that matched. Apparently he had been neglecting his laundry again.
Reid liked all the different patterns of his clothing, but when it got down to the dregs, it was difficult to find something that didn't make him look like he had been dressed by a colorblind clown. Finally, he selected a pair of black slacks, a gray shirt and a black sweater; all were technically clothes he would wear to nicer occasions and were sure to make him look as though he were in mourning, but they would have to do.
Finally, after pulling two socks at random out of a drawer, he limped as quickly as he could down the hall to the bathroom. He simply refused to use his crutches around the house unless it was entirely necessary; he should be able to navigate the halls of his own home without help, he reasoned. He winced as he put weight on his still-painful leg. This was not shaping up to be a promising morning…
---
10 minutes later, Reid emerged from the bathroom, clean and fully dressed. He glanced at the clock on the wall and attempted to pick up the pace- he had 10 minutes to get out of the house before he was officially off-schedule.
He grabbed the file he had been looking over last night and found that his notes were nowhere to be seen. After a frantic 5- minute search, he found the notebook in his bedroom. He stuffed it with the file and a few other things he had been working on into his messenger bag and turned to put on his shoes. However, his shoes were not by his crutches, where he had taken to placing them. Instead, he found them in the kitchen. Putting them on, he found he had a minute left before he had to go.
Of course, he hadn't thought to bring his crutches into the kitchen with him. He attempted a run back to his room where he had left the damn things, but a particularly painful twinge in his leg caused him to trip. Sighing as he looked up from his newfound position on the floor, he found his crutches just feet away, mocking him. No, this was definitely not going to be a good day.
---
"Hey, Reid, who died?" Morgan called from his car as his young colleague appeared outside his apartment building, wearing almost all black.
"My morning." Reid grumbled, tossing his crutches into the back seat and taking his place in the front.
Morgan cocked an eyebrow at the younger man's odd behavior. Since he had taken to picking him up in the morning to save him the treacherous climb on crutches up all the stairs at the metro station, he had found that Reid was mostly a morning person, save for a few days here and there. However, he didn't press for information. Today was probably just one of those days…
---
Reid sank into his chair, pointedly ignoring the growl coming from his stomach and the ache coming from his leg. He wondered if a trip to the coffee machine was even worth it. With his luck, it would probably be empty anyway.
The growling in his stomach was growing louder and more insistent, however, so much so that he was sure the others in the bullpen had heard it by now. It seemed as though he was going to have to at least drink some coffee to satiate his appetite until lunch time when a voice behind him made him jump. "You sound as though you're in need of food, Sugar."
Turning around, Reid found Garcia staring down at him, her hands behind her back. "I'm okay." Reid said without much conviction.
"Then I suppose you won't want this, will you?" She asked teasingly, pulling a very large chocolate chip muffin out from behind her back. "I brought a few today, and this one was going to go to Kevin, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, and I'm pretty sure if I don't feed you, you're going to waste away to nothing before lunch."
"I don't need to be fed, Garcia…" Reid told her, his eyes never leaving the muffin.
"Oh, please. You're so hungry, you're making me hungry just standing next to you. Here." Garcia said, dropping the muffin into Reid's hand.
"Garcia, I love you." He muttered before taking an unnecessarily large bite of muffin.
"Well, if I knew I'd get that kind of reaction, I'd have brought you baked goods years ago." Garcia said with a smile.
Reid froze, realization coming over him. What had he just said?? "Who's getting baked goods?" Morgan asked as he walked up, returning from the break area with a cup of coffee.
"Reid. Apparently the way to his heart really is through his stomach." Garcia said, her smile growing.
Reid swallowed, attempting to speak clearly. "Garcia, I- uh…"
"Hey, if I bring a whole plate of muffins would that get me into your pants?" The woman teased.
Reid choked, coughing uproariously. "Hey, easy there, Pretty Boy." Morgan said.
Once the last of the muffin had cleared his airway, Reid attempted to speak once more. "It's okay Reid, I'm only teasing. Besides, I know I'm too much woman for you to handle." Garcia told the flustered you doctor with a wink and peck on the cheek before heading back to her tiny office.
Morgan laughed and returned to his desk as Reid turned red and ate the rest of his muffin in embarrassed silence.
---
Reid stood outside Garcia's office before he left. His day had seemed to improve after he had eaten breakfast, even though it had only been a muffin. He hadn't seen Garcia since she had given it to him and he wanted to thank her. However, as he entered the room, her earlier words rang through his head… too much woman for you to handle. Suddenly, he felt an innate desire to play along. Instead of his planned 'thank you for the muffin' all that came out of his mouth as the technical analyst looked up at him expectantly was "I think I would prefer brownies, actually."
Garcia seemed taken aback, staring at the young man before her, when realization dawned on her features. "I think that can be arranged, Sweetie." She said with a wink.
No, today had not turned out as badly as he had thought it would after all…
---
A/N: Muffins make everything better- but brownies are the best. You all get marvelous cyber-baked goods if you care to review! Thanks!