Fic: Pumped / Carted / Typecasting (Criminal Minds, Reid / Morgan, Garcia)
Title: Pumped
Pair: Derek Morgan / Spencer Reid
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Criminal Minds Main List
“I really don’t want to do this.” Reid stated once more. “I’m perfectly happy leaving the door kicking and unsub tackling to you.”
“It good for couples to have a joint hobby.” Morgan grinned and pushed Reid out of the locker-room. “Outside work and dead bodies.”
“We got joint hobbies!”
“And I love them all, but I meant something we can talk about when I come to work Monday morning.”
“You always report to Garcia what we do in bed anyway.”
“I don’t, just the highlights. And I don’t tell her everything we do.”
“That still doesn’t explain why I have to go to the gym with you.”
“Because it’s rewarding. You’ll feel great when you’ve pumped some iron. You didn’t wanna do self-defence training with me either, and you ended up liking it.”
“You cut it short when I flipped you and you kept complaining about your back for the rest of the week.”
“Just play nice and I’ll reward you when we get home.”
“I’ll be too sore to do anything when we get home. Every time you force me to the gym, I wake stiff like an ironing board the next morning.”
“I’ll give you a good massage and make sure your muscles are well taken care of.”
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” Reid sighed and took a long look at the gym where a handful of men was exercising in silence. Only noises permeating the air were grunts and the heavy clinks of iron weights. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Don’t bother. I didn’t take you to the Quantico gym, because last time you there, you started picking a fight with a guy five times bigger than you.”
“I wasn’t picking a fight, he came to talk to me.”
“You didn’t need to answer to him, you could have just ignored him.”
“He asked me if I was the new sweat rag. I pointed out that-”
“You called him a drugged up gym bunny!”
“I didn’t. I merely stated that his exterior and behaviour showed several signs of steroid abuse.”
“The guy had a neck thicker than your waist, he could have snapped you in two. If I hadn’t been there to drag you away he could have-”
“I just pointed out that long term steroid abuse has severe effects on males, damaged immune system, impotence, and-”
“Baby boy.” Morgan sighed and placed his hand over Reid’s mouth. “Sometimes it’s better to shut your mouth or someone else will do it for you.”
“Mmmmmhhhmmmm?” Reid mumbled.
“What?” Morgan pulled his hand down.
“What’s that?” The genius pointed at the poster on the wall. “Body pumping?”
“It’s like lifting weights in a group.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“The whole point of exercising with weights is that you lift them. If you need a whole group to lift them, you got too heavy weights.”
“I can’t believe a genius just said that…” Morgan groaned and guided Reid to the weight rack. “You should warm up before we start.”
“Did you ask my physical therapist first?”
“What?”
“Before exercise we really should ask him about my knee, just in case.”
“We can focus on the upper body.”
“Human being is a psychophysical entity. Effect on one aspect of it will echo to the others.”
“I’m not taking you to see a physical therapist or a psychiatrist before going to the gym. Nice try, but you’re not getting off the hook.”
“Why not?” Reid exclaimed. “We both know I’m not going to be coming here unless you twist my arm again. I don’t want to be here and you can’t focus on your own workout when I’m here talking.”
“Pretty Boy… Just try it. There’s a lot of stuff you can do and get the sweat running.”
“Okay…” Reid surrendered and his lips formed a conniving little smirk. “But can you do something for me?”
“What?”
“I was looking at that leg press, I think my knee is actually well enough to try that if we take some of the weights off.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“But can you show me how to do it first?”
“Sure.” Morgan adjusted the weights and settled on his back. “Legs here and then just push. Slowly and carefully all the way, and then slowly back.”
“Do that again.”
Morgan repeated the motion.
“Again.”
“You still didn’t get it?”
“I got it, but I like to see your quadriceps and calf’s flexing.”
“You skinny little perv…”
“You do it for me and then I’ll do it for you.” Reid gave him an innocent smile and eyed the sight of skin that was exposed under Morgan’s gym shorts. “I think this way can actually get some enjoyment out of this.”
“I should have seen that coming…” Morgan chuckled and continued pushing up the weights. “But I’m not gonna go easy on you.”
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Title: Carted
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
“Finally! I didn’t wanna order before you got two got here and I’ve been waiting for-” Garcia’s eyes widened comically. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing. We played a little golf with Rossi.” Morgan grabbed a menu from the table and took a seat. “I think I pulled a muscle.”
“That’s not exactly how I would describe it.” Reid sat down next to him. “It was more like a head dive off the golf cart.”
“Did they have some betting going on again?” Garcia gave them a knowing look. “Rossi’s had a lot more practice and he always wants to bet on it.”
“No betting.” Reid grinned. “Something a lot more unexpected. I’m still trying to come up with a logical reason why a man, who drives a motorcycle, tackles unsubs and loves car races, can get sick in a golf cart.”
“It wasn’t the golf cart, it was your driving! And I’ve been wondering too: How can someone who drives a car like a half blind, eighty-something geezer, go nuts when he gets to drive a glorified go-cart?”
“I didn’t go nuts-”
“We were scared for our lives.”
“don’t exaggerate-”
“When you finally stopped, Rossi went down on his knees and kissed the ground.”
“I think it was his good luck ritual-”
“No, it was pure horror.”
“There’s several cultures where-”
“Face it, genius: You had two passengers. One kisses the ground from the sheer pleasure of being away from the cart, and the other one throws up behind the seats and then tries to jump out of it when it’s still moving.”
“You threw up?” Garcia repeated. She had long ago deserted all attempts to read the menu. “MuscleBunny, say it isn’t so.”
“It is so, and I had to clean up that golf cart!”
“I warned you not to eat before an athletic performance.” Reid commented and focused on his menu, quickly scanning it through. “If you can call golf athletic. The benefits to the players health-”
“It wasn’t the food, it was the rollercoaster ride without safety rails.”
“I’m a good driver.”
“Yeah.” Garcia agreed. “If he got a drivers licence, he can’t be that bad.”
“Penny. I’m gonna ask you a question and I want an honest answer.” Morgan nailed her with his eyes. “Would you let Pretty boy here drive your car?”
“My baby?” Garcia gasped. Her face turned white, then green as the obvious mental images flashed before her eyes. “No.”
“Thank you.” Morgan nodded.
“I wouldn’t let you drive her either.”
“What? Why not?”
“How many bureau cars have you wrecked when you’ve gone after an unsub?”
“Three.”
“Neither one of you is coming anywhere near my baby, unless I’m driving.”
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Title: Typecasting
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
“I don’t get it…” Garcia brought pictures of all six victims to the screen. “It’s so creepy.”
“Yeah, a hacksaw can do that to a man.” Prentiss stated and sat down on the other side of the table. “The unsub drugged and tied the victims, so he could operate freely and prolong the act.”
“I wasn’t talking about that, I was talking about the widows!”
“What about them?”
“Six men, all in their sixties and judging by the pictures, that “mature charm” cliché is not exactly the term I would use. All wives were under thirty-five and blonds.”
“So what?”
“We blonds shouldn’t settle! I mean what can an old creep like that give to a blond in her prime?”
“I don’t know, but I can make a guess.” Prentiss stated and opened one of the case files in front of her. “Victim number one imported diamonds, second one was a successful divorce lawyer who handled a lot of Hollywood break-ups-”
“Yeah, but how can they actually live like that?”
“I don’t think it was that difficult. Victim number four had a bottle of Viagra in his bathroom cabinet. Described seven months ago and only two pills were gone, so I’d say the hubby dearest wasn’t after his marital rights.”
“Still… It’s depressing when fellow blonds give a bad name to all of us.”
“That’s true.” J.J. agreed. She came in carrying a coffee pot and a stack of paper cups. “Those women are like Stepford wives. Skinny blonds, who look like living Barbie dolls and-”
“Jen?” Prentiss interrupted. “Pot? Kettle?”
“I’m not like that!” J.J. poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. “I’m just saying that they don’t have much else to offer besides looks.”
“That’s the basic rule of attraction.” Garcia grinned. “Beautiful people attract beautiful people, and if you’re not visually appealing you better have something else or you’ll never find anyone. Take me for example: I’m a blond with fabulous boobs and mad hacking skills, therefore I have a man.”
“You’re making it sound like everyone should have a man to be happy.” Prentiss protested. “Believe me, I’m way too happy living alone to try to adjust to some guys habits.”
“I didn’t mean that. I just meant that everyone has something they use to attract people they wanna attract. You got that brunette, intellectual thing going on. J.J.`s the innocent, wide-eyed blond. Our little Spencie has that pretty face and big brain, and our ChocolateMuffin has… Well, is there anything he doesn’t have?”
“Yeah, and different people react to different traits.” J.J. added. “Everyone has their own type. I like my men cute and sensitive.” She hid her giggle behind her coffee cup. “And I found what I was looking for.”
“And Kevin was head over heels before he even saw me.” Garcia chuckled. “And the fact that he could appreciate my skills as the Queen of all things Worth Hacking, and that made him even cuter. The victims obviously liked cheap botoxed bimbos, that was their type and they didn’t mind paying for it.”
“In that case their tastes changed a lot over the years.” Prentiss leaned back in her chair and took a long sip from her coffee. “All of them had been married before, and all the first wives were their own age, and had their own careers. Pretty much the opposite of their successors.”
“Doesn’t mean their taste is different, it can mean that they just hit a crisis. Old man trying to capture his lost youth…” The thought made Garcia shiver. “They already had their youth once. If they didn’t make the most of it, it’s their own fault.” She emptied her mug and poured herself more coffee. “Of course some people do just the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about our brooding leader.” Garcia gestured at the window. Rest of the team was in the bullpen talking to the local police officers. “Hailey wasn’t that different from the vic`s wives, except the monetary aspect. You can’t afford that on bureau salary.”
“I’m not commenting on that, I’ve never met the woman.” Prentiss stated and turned to look at J.J. “Was she really that bad?”
“I’m not getting into that…” She answered. “Don’t ask.”
“Persona non grata.” Garcia stated. “Let’s just say Hotchie-Poochie`s taste changed dramatically. He went from a tiny blond to tall, dark and abs-tastic.”
“Then hasn’t Morgan changed too?” J.J. wondered and got up to leave. “Think about the women he dated before Spence.”
“That was just delaying the inevitable. It was faith.” Garcia beamed. “In the end he was meant to end up with your truly or our pretty Brainiac. It was meant to be.”