Fic: Things that go with lasagna
Title: Things that go with lasagna
Author: AnnieVH
Summary: Garcia wants Hotch to be safe.
Rating: T for talking about sex safety.
Genre: Humor.
Characters or Pairing: Hotch/Beth, Garcia
Prompts: persikay's "Garcia - 'What's that smell?'" and also very much inspired by "The Lasagna Incident", from the musical "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change". There are many lovely versions of this particular act/song on Youtube and you should check them all.
Warning: nope.
Spoilers: up to last season.
Disclaimer: don't own, just borrow for fun, make them do silly stuff for my own amusement and then return them crying to CBS.
Note: a huge apology to persikay, who's been waiting on this story for almost a year. It played with me for months before I finally manage to take control over it. I hope it's worth your waiting and that it leaves you laughing, or at least gives you a smile.
"Garcia?"
She glanced back, "Hey!"
"I came for the-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, here," she waved the files in the air, hurrying him inside. "C'mon, it's Friday night and we all want to go home." When Hotch was close enough, she went through the first bunch of sheets and pointed, "Sign here and here aaand here."
Hotch bent over and flicked his pen three times.
"Okay! Done! Now here, and here for these ones. What is this smell?"
Hotch straightened up and looked down on her. "Pardon me?"
"The smell on you?"
"You mean my cologne?"
"Yes."
A deep color of red crawled up Hotch's neck, but he tried to cover by bending over the files once again. "Just my cologne, that's all. There, signed, what about this one?"
Garcia didn't take her eyes from him, "This one on the final page, please, is that Diavolo?"
"Yes it is. Aaaand, signed, anything else?"
"No, that's not your usual cologne."
Hotch shrugged and picked up his bag from the floor.
"I have more than one cologne."
"But that's a little spicy for work."
"I didn't put it on for work, good night," he said, turning on his heels and rushing out the door.
In record time, Garcia had turned the lights out and pulled the plug on her computers. She could fix whatever bugs they had on Monday. Juicy information was trying to get out the door.
"Lets walk together."
"Garcia-" Hotch tried, but she was quicker.
"Is this for the mystery woman? You know, the one you and Rossi are always whispering about when you think no one is listening?"
"Mystery woman. Please."
"That's what everybody is calling her."
"Very imaginative."
She gasped. "Oh my God, is she Lily from downstairs?"
"Who?"
"Lily from downstairs. She's always trying to make eye contact with you, but that was clearly pointless. I'll let her know."
"Be so kind."
Hotch tried to speed up, but one way or another they ended up at the elevator, waiting for it to come up.
"Is she blond or brunette?"
"Garcia..."
"Does she work here? Of course she does not, that is so not you. Is she pretty?"
"Garcia..."
"Her name. Just give me her name, I won't spread the word."
Hotch sighed. In a cold, quick voice, he replied, "Beth."
"Elisabeth, Lisbeth or just Beth?"
"Just Beth."
"What a cute name."
"It's a perfectly regular name. C'mon, damn thing!" He pushed the button on the wall once again. Harder and harder, like that would make a difference.
"Where are you going tonight?"
"Nowhere."
"Staying in?"
"Yes."
"Got someone to watch Jack? 'Cause I'm free-"
"Yes."
"Good. Is she cooking?"
"What are they loading downstairs?!"
"What is she making?"
"Lasagna."
"Right. So you should probably bring the-"
"Wine?"
"Condoms."
Hotch stopped. Turned to find her eyes.
Garcia stared at him as if she had just suggested Champagne instead.
"What?"
"Condoms. You know. Not a bad idea. Since you've seen each other about fifty times already-"
"I'm taking the stairs," Hotch decided, pushing the nearest door and rushing down the stairs.
Garcia's heels slowed her down, but the echo still worked very well over the handrails. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's fine!"
"You have condoms on you?"
"Dear lord, Garcia!" He shouted up. "That's not appropriate!"
"But what if you need them?"
Hotch huffed and started jumping the steps, two at the time.
Garcia was breathless by the time she reached the parking lot, in time to see him trying to open his car.
"Sir, wait!"
"I can't hear you, Garcia," he said, trying to fit his key in the hole, unsuccessfully.
"But, sir-"
"No, I don't want to hear about condoms anymore."
"I know, but I have to-"
"Garcia," Hotch said, turning to face her. "For all I care, this conversation is over. Are we understood?"
"Yes, but-"
"No, no buts. I'm going to get in my car and drive away and have lasagna with Beth- Why won't this key work?!"
"Because it's your office key!"
Hotch quit trying to shove it in the door and looked at it. Yes. Garcia had a point.
Garcia knew there was a sex joke somewhere in her throat trying to get out, but upon seeing Hotch's head hit the top of the Lexus, she decided to keep it to herself.
"Here. You dropped them on the stairs."
He snatched them from her hand and grumbled a thank you.
"I know you don't want to hear anything more about it, so I'll just say this. I understand that this is a delicate situation and that maybe you don't want to rush into things with Beth."
"Good," he said, shortly, never looking at her. Maybe if he ignored her long enough, she'd vanish.
"But if it happens, if it really happens tonight, do you want to be the guy that let what might possibly be the right moment escape through your fingers because you went in unprepared? That's dumb. Sir."
Hotch rolled his eyes and got in his car, slamming the door behind him.
It didn't take him two entire seconds to roll the window down. "I hate you."
"Smart choice, Sir," Garcia smiled and opened her purse. "Don't worry, I won't tell."
"Just give me one and walk away."
"One? Oh, that is not very optimistic-"
"Garcia!"
"Fine, fine. Would you like strawberry?"
Oh, she had got to be kidding!!
"What?"
"Strawberry, orange, mint, leather-black, leopard print-"
"You carry options around?!"
"Yes. In alphabetic order."
"Why do you carry options around?"
"The same reason I always have an extra pair of shoes. You never know what the situation will call for. What will be?"
"I don't care!" he said, in a painful voice. "Just give me one and don't look me in the eye for the next two weeks."
"Okay, okay, uhn.... here. Take strawberry and mint. And a regular."
Hotch snatched them from her hand and looked around, hoping no one else was in the parking lot to witness that madness. And with a dead serious face, he said, "This never happened."
"Understood."
"No. I mean, this - never - happened."
"Oh. Understood, sir. All security footage of this night will be accidentally lost."
"It better be."
And he sped up off the lot and down the road, watching Garcia wave goodbye by the rearview mirror with too much enthusiasm.
**Fim**
Author: AnnieVH
Summary: Garcia wants Hotch to be safe.
Rating: T for talking about sex safety.
Genre: Humor.
Characters or Pairing: Hotch/Beth, Garcia
Prompts: persikay's "Garcia - 'What's that smell?'" and also very much inspired by "The Lasagna Incident", from the musical "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change". There are many lovely versions of this particular act/song on Youtube and you should check them all.
Warning: nope.
Spoilers: up to last season.
Disclaimer: don't own, just borrow for fun, make them do silly stuff for my own amusement and then return them crying to CBS.
Note: a huge apology to persikay, who's been waiting on this story for almost a year. It played with me for months before I finally manage to take control over it. I hope it's worth your waiting and that it leaves you laughing, or at least gives you a smile.
"Garcia?"
She glanced back, "Hey!"
"I came for the-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, here," she waved the files in the air, hurrying him inside. "C'mon, it's Friday night and we all want to go home." When Hotch was close enough, she went through the first bunch of sheets and pointed, "Sign here and here aaand here."
Hotch bent over and flicked his pen three times.
"Okay! Done! Now here, and here for these ones. What is this smell?"
Hotch straightened up and looked down on her. "Pardon me?"
"The smell on you?"
"You mean my cologne?"
"Yes."
A deep color of red crawled up Hotch's neck, but he tried to cover by bending over the files once again. "Just my cologne, that's all. There, signed, what about this one?"
Garcia didn't take her eyes from him, "This one on the final page, please, is that Diavolo?"
"Yes it is. Aaaand, signed, anything else?"
"No, that's not your usual cologne."
Hotch shrugged and picked up his bag from the floor.
"I have more than one cologne."
"But that's a little spicy for work."
"I didn't put it on for work, good night," he said, turning on his heels and rushing out the door.
In record time, Garcia had turned the lights out and pulled the plug on her computers. She could fix whatever bugs they had on Monday. Juicy information was trying to get out the door.
"Lets walk together."
"Garcia-" Hotch tried, but she was quicker.
"Is this for the mystery woman? You know, the one you and Rossi are always whispering about when you think no one is listening?"
"Mystery woman. Please."
"That's what everybody is calling her."
"Very imaginative."
She gasped. "Oh my God, is she Lily from downstairs?"
"Who?"
"Lily from downstairs. She's always trying to make eye contact with you, but that was clearly pointless. I'll let her know."
"Be so kind."
Hotch tried to speed up, but one way or another they ended up at the elevator, waiting for it to come up.
"Is she blond or brunette?"
"Garcia..."
"Does she work here? Of course she does not, that is so not you. Is she pretty?"
"Garcia..."
"Her name. Just give me her name, I won't spread the word."
Hotch sighed. In a cold, quick voice, he replied, "Beth."
"Elisabeth, Lisbeth or just Beth?"
"Just Beth."
"What a cute name."
"It's a perfectly regular name. C'mon, damn thing!" He pushed the button on the wall once again. Harder and harder, like that would make a difference.
"Where are you going tonight?"
"Nowhere."
"Staying in?"
"Yes."
"Got someone to watch Jack? 'Cause I'm free-"
"Yes."
"Good. Is she cooking?"
"What are they loading downstairs?!"
"What is she making?"
"Lasagna."
"Right. So you should probably bring the-"
"Wine?"
"Condoms."
Hotch stopped. Turned to find her eyes.
Garcia stared at him as if she had just suggested Champagne instead.
"What?"
"Condoms. You know. Not a bad idea. Since you've seen each other about fifty times already-"
"I'm taking the stairs," Hotch decided, pushing the nearest door and rushing down the stairs.
Garcia's heels slowed her down, but the echo still worked very well over the handrails. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's fine!"
"You have condoms on you?"
"Dear lord, Garcia!" He shouted up. "That's not appropriate!"
"But what if you need them?"
Hotch huffed and started jumping the steps, two at the time.
Garcia was breathless by the time she reached the parking lot, in time to see him trying to open his car.
"Sir, wait!"
"I can't hear you, Garcia," he said, trying to fit his key in the hole, unsuccessfully.
"But, sir-"
"No, I don't want to hear about condoms anymore."
"I know, but I have to-"
"Garcia," Hotch said, turning to face her. "For all I care, this conversation is over. Are we understood?"
"Yes, but-"
"No, no buts. I'm going to get in my car and drive away and have lasagna with Beth- Why won't this key work?!"
"Because it's your office key!"
Hotch quit trying to shove it in the door and looked at it. Yes. Garcia had a point.
Garcia knew there was a sex joke somewhere in her throat trying to get out, but upon seeing Hotch's head hit the top of the Lexus, she decided to keep it to herself.
"Here. You dropped them on the stairs."
He snatched them from her hand and grumbled a thank you.
"I know you don't want to hear anything more about it, so I'll just say this. I understand that this is a delicate situation and that maybe you don't want to rush into things with Beth."
"Good," he said, shortly, never looking at her. Maybe if he ignored her long enough, she'd vanish.
"But if it happens, if it really happens tonight, do you want to be the guy that let what might possibly be the right moment escape through your fingers because you went in unprepared? That's dumb. Sir."
Hotch rolled his eyes and got in his car, slamming the door behind him.
It didn't take him two entire seconds to roll the window down. "I hate you."
"Smart choice, Sir," Garcia smiled and opened her purse. "Don't worry, I won't tell."
"Just give me one and walk away."
"One? Oh, that is not very optimistic-"
"Garcia!"
"Fine, fine. Would you like strawberry?"
Oh, she had got to be kidding!!
"What?"
"Strawberry, orange, mint, leather-black, leopard print-"
"You carry options around?!"
"Yes. In alphabetic order."
"Why do you carry options around?"
"The same reason I always have an extra pair of shoes. You never know what the situation will call for. What will be?"
"I don't care!" he said, in a painful voice. "Just give me one and don't look me in the eye for the next two weeks."
"Okay, okay, uhn.... here. Take strawberry and mint. And a regular."
Hotch snatched them from her hand and looked around, hoping no one else was in the parking lot to witness that madness. And with a dead serious face, he said, "This never happened."
"Understood."
"No. I mean, this - never - happened."
"Oh. Understood, sir. All security footage of this night will be accidentally lost."
"It better be."
And he sped up off the lot and down the road, watching Garcia wave goodbye by the rearview mirror with too much enthusiasm.
**Fim**