Title: Flowers At The Office
Collaboration-Fic by Half_Broken_Moon & Vanessa S. Quest

Part 1: (by Vanessa S. Quest)

The sunlight is warm on Reid's skin as he leans against the window to watch the buildings along the side of the road move past. His left hand stretches from the ill-defined imaginary border of 'passenger's side' to the equally crudely designed 'driver's side' to squeeze Hotch's thigh just above his knee.

Hotch's right hand momentarily drops from the steering wheel to land on Reid's hand, squeezing it before pulling it from his thigh to his lips. He kisses Reid's knuckles gently.

"Car-pooling really is a genius idea; we should do that every weekend." He smiles into the flesh of Reid's hand before placing Reid's hand back down on his knee and then returning his hand to the wheel. He slows the car for a stop light.

Reid smiles back, blushing slightly. "This weekend was great. I wouldn't mind repeating that at all next time we have a few days off." He stretches a bit, turning to face Hotch instead of the scenery. The handful of stolen glances and touches were going to have to be masked by the next light, so Reid took the opportunity to lean over and kiss Hotch as the light detains them. "Have a good morning at work, Aaron."

Hotch snags Reid by the back of his hair, pulling him in closer for a little deeper of a kiss, "You too, Spencer." They broke at the sound of a horn behind them reminding them that the light had turned green two seconds ago, and they continue the drive no longer in lover-mode. Spencer is now Reid, nervously fixing his hair and hem of his shirt, adjusting his bag and gearing up for his second cup of coffee of the day, which he'd get just after they park thanks to a coffee-stand outside the FBI HQ parking lot. Sure, it meant he had to cross the street to get to it, and then again to get back to the office, but the reward of REALLY good coffee is a price he's willing to pay first thing in the morning and at lunch, five days a week pending on case-load.

Meanwhile, Hotch builds up his mental shields to become the fierce team leader and highly respected SSAIC Aaron Hotchner, his stoic features now more firmly in place. The car ride no longer focusing on minute touches, but now talks of new cases.

Their work-load had increased thanks to losing their media liaison, all personal dramas aside, the morning work-load had increased to cases they should or should not take, on top of the requests for interviews, interviews, individual requests for case-reviews, cases they had to travel to, reports to file afterwards, depositions… this all had added two hours to each member's daily responsibilities. No one on the team seemed willing to replace J.J. yet though… so that time just got accrued as over-time and Hotch didn't say a word to counter it.

They just weren't ready to replace that part of their family; he let his even breath slow a bit more, contemplating the head-ache of the first forty minutes before they'd brief each other on any potential cases.

Hotch and Reid park on the lowest level of the parking garage, a benefit of Hotch's title as team-leader includes having an amazing spot dedicated to his car. While Reid immediately hops out of the car in pursuit of coffee, Hotch takes that extra second to make sure his tie is as perfect as he had left it this morning and then enters the office-building. The elevator ride is quick and he proceeds to his office to start his day.

He doesn't immediately notice the flush of color in the bullpen, probably because he's still operating on only one cup of coffee. After he enters his office to look at the cases piled on his desk, he realizes he needs that coffee, too. He decides to add to his new Monday routine to get that second cup of coffee with Reid, too. Today, though, he'll make use of the break room's pot.

He walks past the row of desks in time to see Reid enter from the elevator with a large coffee, the man scans the office; finding his desk and boss both there, he starts to smile and blush.

Hotch finds it strange, the young agent is better at covering his emotions than that… until he notices what he swears he should have immediately spotted. There, on Reid's desk, is a bouquet made up of dozens of red and white roses.

Reid bows his head sheepishly, heading to his desk and slinging off his bag, he whispers to Hotch so only the other man could hear, "You didn't have to… but that's very sweet of you…"

"I didn't." Hotch said, equally quiet, in a voice more authoritative, well at least more 'Hotch' like, he asks in normal tone, "So, who are they from?"

Reid looks at him oddly then at the bouquet, "I, uh, have no idea." He felt around at the edges of the bouquet until he pulls out a card. Flipping it open, it takes him under half a second to read the inscription to himself. "It doesn't say- it's a quote."

"What's the quote…?"

"'To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind.' Theophile Gautier."

Morgan approaches from the elevator during the process of discovering flowers, upon Reid reading the quote, his attention is growing as is the crowd around Reid's desk. "Hey, pretty boy, you have a secret admirer?"

Reid moves the flowers to the most distant corner of his desk. "Apparently," sipping his coffee, he starts his work-day.

XXX

By ten, the group comes together to discuss potential cases, deciding to follow up on one from Rossi's pile- a consult requiring urgent attention about an arsonist burning down businesses in the middle of the night in a large town in Michigan.

The round-table discussion sets up a preliminary profile that Rossi then forwarded to the local LEOs, and the others went back to the pile to discern what case the team should take while simultaneously doing the rest of their job functions. Reid seems to be having the easiest time with integrating this, what with his ability to read 20,000 words a minute.

At lunch, Reid is about to get onto the elevator to leave when a delivery man exits onto his floor with a gourmand's lunch. "Is there a Dr. Reid here? I have his lunch."

"Uh, I'm Dr. Reid." Reid's eyes went wide as he is shocked to find the recipient to the feast is him, since he certainly didn't order anything.

He debates whether Morgan is guilty of the prank, and how much this is going to cost him, until the delivery man hands it to him saying, "From your admirer. Please enjoy, sir."

The young man hands over the large bag and then steps back onto the elevator. He returns to his desk before he could think better of it.

Reid inspects a bag labeled with the brand 2941 Restaurant, he'd heard of the place, just like he'd heard that driving a Porsche is supposed to be nice. It wasn't a life experience he thought he'd ever really get let alone in some casual situation of eating there for take-out lunch. The meal itself isn't even one of the more fairly-priced options from the prix-fixe menu, well… the dessert is. Inside the bag had been a loaf of French bread, chestnut ravioli appetizer, beef tartare for a main course, an organic coffee truffle for dessert, and Casatica di bufala cheese with wild-flower honey to go along with his bread. He blinks at it several times hoping to will away the awkward feeling that from looking at the menu inside the bag he probably would have chosen those very things if he decided he didn't need half a week's pay-check.

He didn't know what to do with the lunch, it looks so good, but to actually eat it, wouldn't that be an insult to his relationship- secret relationship- with his boss? He leans his head on his desk. Maybe it's okay if he shares it? He looks up from his desk hopeful to see movement in Hotch's office. Either way, he should have a chat with his lover- er, boss, yes he should chat with his boss about what this all could mean, and not his lover about how concerned he is. He'd never be so unprofessional as to bring personal issues up at work, riiiight.

Taking the bag up with him, he knocks on Hotch's door which is cracked slightly.

"Come in."

"Hey, uh, Hotch… could I talk to you for a minute…" He gestures to the bag, Hotch counters with a gesture to the door, suggesting Reid close it.

"Sure, have a seat. What's on your mind?"

"My admirer apparently struck again, this time with an expensive lunch."

"And you're asking me if it's okay to eat a lunch someone else bought for you…?"

"Yes and no, I came to address that this is awkward for me. I don't know who this is and I don't know how to get in touch with them to turn them down. It's flattering but, I'm spoken for, besides… why would anyone spend that much money on me… I mean… honestly, I'm baffled by the behavior. I don't have many examples of a person trying to woo me." He looks at his lover for a moment trying to express that he could think of ONE exemption he'd concede.

Hotch smiles. "If your admirer isn't trying to contact you, for now, I suggest letting it slide… for now." He repeats, chiding himself for being so obvious.

"I also came to ask if you'd like some. There's no way I can eat this by myself and enjoy it. It would be too flavored with guilt."

"Sure, I'm at a good stopping point." With that, Hotch moves some files from his desk to clear an area for the both of them to sit and eat at. It's a good meal- fitting for the gourmet price tag, but the conversation occurring behind it had been what made the lunch flow by most pleasantly to Reid.

Yes, they both talk shop, about which cases they'd look into and which ones they should probably decline, but that isn't all that passes between the two. Non-verbal communications in glances about the stresses of the day, about their affections for each other, that is what calms Reid's frayed nerves and puts him back into work-mode fully recharged.

The rest of the day, Reid manages to get back into the groove even if he does send the bouquet several sets of unnerved looks, how is he supposed to react to this? Is the normal reaction to just be flattered but not interested? The secrecy of who the crush is, on top of it, eats at him. When he steals five minutes for coffee, he decides to snag Morgan and Prentiss; the three begin to profile the flowers, the lunch, and the quote… trying to gain insights to the admirer.

Morgan and Prentiss both silently amused at the level of which Reid is freaking out over it, Prentiss offers the theory of a sugar-mama, which instantly makes Reid feel like maybe Rossi is punking him, that is what it's called to get pranked nowadays, right?

He even mentions this to Morgan, but Morgan denies the assessment, "Man, even Rossi wouldn't spend that much on a prank. Besides, if he did, do you think he would've only got you one portion? Seriously, he probably would have gotten you enough to share with at least one other person." What Morgan left out is that he knew the other person would be Hotch, after all… he knew better than to say the obvious. Everyone on the team knew about Reid and Hotch, they just didn't call them on it, they respected their urge to keep it private, especially with the risks of reassignment if the two were caught.

If it really had been Rossi, though, the senior agent would've been smart enough to goad them to a full lunch and force them to enjoy their break together like normal couples breaking FBI taboos did, like he and Prentiss, for example.

Reid seems to accept the assessment that Rossi wouldn't prank him, for whatever reason, probably because he'd have chosen a five-star Italian place instead… and then goes back to profiling the meaning of red and white roses. In flower language, white roses are the flowers of unrequited love, red of passion. The day finally ends for Reid, Hotch suggesting he go ahead and catch the train back to his apartment instead of wait around for two or three hours for Hotch to catch up, so he does.

XXX

Tuesday morning went similarly to Monday, except today it isn't flowers. It's gourmet chocolates and coffee. Coffee that Reid immediately dumps into his waste-basket despite it smelling delicious. He bows his head onto his desk. If this isn't a prank, this is someone who has real feelings for him… but he's taken.

Reid doesn't need this stress. He'd rather fill his day with sociopaths trying to kill people and stopping them, not whether his admirer's a rich old lady who needs a hobby, or some creep trying to buy him, or whatever else this could be… because the only thing this could be is unrequited and answered with rejection.

Lunch goes by similarly, this time it is Italian though, and for half the day he shoots Hotch's office pleading looks, and Rossi's office daggers. He mentions to Hotch the possibility that Rossi is pranking him, which Hotch said that if that's the case take the free lunch and he'd talk to him later about it.

What Reid doesn't know is that even though he knows the whole team has suspicions, Rossi actually has confirmations, thanks to him cornering Hotch at one point. Neither have spoken further of it, and Hotch has never had reason to tell Reid that the team knew, after all, they both already knew that… this is the formality that they have to do for the rest of the brass of the FBI, not the team.

Again, thanks to J.J.'s absence, Hotch stays late to prepare the next wave of files for Wednesday, and sends Reid home via train, at least today he hasn't also given him a ride in… even though he'd have liked to, it would've meant getting Reid up an extra hour early, since he came in at 6:30 to get through some of his pile faster.

XXX

Wednesday, much like Monday and Tuesday met Reid with another gift. This time it's small but expensive breakfast pastries, and a rare translation of Dante's Divine Comedy, it adds to Reid's working profile that the unsub …err… admirer is potentially a religious fanatic. Add to this that the last two quote calling cards left in the morning had been biblical quotes about love.

Yesterday, to accompany his un-drank coffee had been, "Many waters can not quench love, neither can floods drown it." Song of Solomon 8:7. Today's inspirational quote is, "Come let us take our fill of love until the morning: let us solace ourselves with loves." Proverbs 7:18. Reid immediately crumpled it and tosses it into the trash, along with the pastries, AND Dante's Divine Comedy. Dante would forgive him, he'd get that he's going through his own personal hell…

…And as Winston Churchill once said, "When going through hell, keep going." Reid even requests the tech-goddess of omniscience to pull up footage to spot who's laying these gifts out, regrettably it's a mail-clerk Reid knew to deliver other letters. Not the unsub, then again, it's probably for the best that the unsub couldn't actually get into the FBI HQ to deliver such things. That meant they didn't have the clearance, which is definitely a plus.

When his lunch gets here, gourmet sushi, he sends it back with the delivery-man. He isn't going to play this game again.

Doing that actually gets him a card rushed by a bicycle-courier to his desk from the admirer, this time in their hand-writing, sending regards hoping that Reid is not ill, asking forgiveness for the meal not being to his liking, and personally raising the creepy-crawly feeling and the hairs on the back of Reid's neck. But he compartmentalizes and copes. Instead of discarding the card left in some bubbly hand-writing of some clerk behind the counter at a flower-shop, or cashier from a pastry-shop, this is the discerning handwriting of the admirer. So he does one of the things Reid does best, he starts with psycholinguistics.

Through the actual reading of the document, Reid confirms the firm Protestant upbringing, male gender thanks to missing intensifiers, and directness to the thoughts. From what is written, he gathers the man is approximately in his early thirties, but as is the case in all profiles, age is the hardest to gauge. Racially, thanks to word-order, Reid would wager he is Caucasian and native to the US, there just isn't enough written to determine where, though. It appears the man is well-educated, however.

Reid jots down his preliminary profile, embarrassed to no end that he actually HAS a preliminary profile of an admirer. He couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling about this, and he's getting to the point of realizing this isn't because he's in a relationship. This somehow feels threatening, even if the others don't see it as such. He knows Hotch would agree.

XXX

Thursday, there are no presents on his desk when he arrives. That has made Reid visibly relax, this week has so far been the week from hell, J.J.'s absence being only a part of the issues… and honestly, her departure is more than enough of an upset.

At lunch, Reid is sucker-punched with a singing-messenger delivering flowers to replace the slightly wilted roses, this bouquet an arrangement of gardenias, gloxinia, and spider-flowers.

Reid's stomach lurches. Gardenias meant secret love, gloxinias spoke of love at first sight, but spider-flower? THAT'S a request for elopement. Reid swallows heavily. He is too shocked at the singing and the sudden thrust of flowers into his arms to realize the delivery man has walked away after singing Beautiful by Christina Aguilera, the growing commotion having even gotten Hotch to step out of his office.

Said flowers went on special express delivery from Reid to the trash bin. He forgot about lunch, instead, silently reworking the profile to add in psychopathic tendencies …obviously this man is a sadist and a narcissist, after all… who the hell ELSE uses singing flower delivery-men?

XXX

Friday, Reid finds another note, a sweater, and some fresh fruit, coffee and whipped fresh cream to go with it. He silently wishes for a case to take him to the other side of the country just to NOT have to deal with this right now, but the cards are against him, the case they opted to work on yesterday is a consult in DC.

A consult that ends in half a day, returning the members to the office, Hotch driving Reid to discuss the situation at work. They also discuss the prospects of the weekend carpool back home.

The highlight of Reid's day, besides apparently missing yet another delivery man's attempt to deliver a gourmet lunch, is Hotch telling him he'll keep Reid in his sight all weekend and that nary a delivery man nor flower would cross his path without Hotch's approval, and he'd approve none of it, since he's man enough to deliver any gifts he gets Reid to Reid himself.

The two pack up for the day, closing out of the office at a respectable 6PM to head home for the weekend.

TBC.