FIC: Teeth and Claws
Teeth and Claws
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Author: nebula99
Prompt: 002 Transformation (Animals)
Rating: FRT/PG-13
Type: Gen
Summary: Garcia let out a low chuckle. “Don’t panic Spencer, it’s only Morgan. Finish your tuna.”
Author’s Note: For the
wtf27
crack!fic challenge. Inspired by a chatroom conversation with sherlockette who reckoned that Reid was contemplating a can of cat food at the start of Fear and Loathing. Also influenced by the icon which demonstrates that Reid glowers like a pissed-off kitten.
slightly belated birthday gift for
yumekodragonfly
Teeth and Claws
No amount of time can erase the memory of a good cat, and no amount of masking tape can ever totally remove his fur from your couch.
Leo Dworken
Morgan looked up at Reid. The young man was staring hard at the file he was holding, while licking the back of his hand. He was completely absorbed in the information in front of him and hardly seemed to notice that his tongue was moving up and down his skin, causing the pale flesh to glisten. Morgan shook his head; people did some weird stuff when they were concentrating. He returned to his own file.
A sudden movement made him look up. Reid had stopped licking his hand and was now rubbing it over the hair at the side of his head. His wrist moved in circles, dampening and smoothing down the locks. Then he returned to licking his hand.
Morgan tried to give his attention to the printed sheets in front of him. Nobody else seemed to have noticed Reid behaving strangely - they were all absorbed in their own copies of the case file.
He glanced at his young colleague again, seeing Garcia nudge him gently and pass him a note. Reid looked at it and gave her an embarrassed smile, a blush creeping over his cheeks. Gently tucking his hair behind his ear, Reid took hold of the file with both hands now and continued to read.
After the meeting was concluded, Reid tossed the note into the trash can as he left the conference room. Waiting until everybody else had gone out, Morgan retrieved it, smoothing out the crumpled paper. Garcia’s handwriting was large and rounded: Careful, you’re grooming! Morgan frowned and shook his head. What the hell did that mean?
He puzzled over it for the rest of the day. Reid seemed distracted and left without saying goodbye to anybody.
Morgan decided to ask Garcia about Reid. He knew the two of them were close and that Garcia had a knack for bringing the young man out of himself.
Peering round her office door, he was disappointed to see that she had already left for the weekend. Morgan grabbed his coat and headed for the elevators, pondering whether or not to call her.
In the garage, he noticed Garcia getting into her convertible. She put a box carefully on the passenger seat, along with an overnight bag. She was talking to the box.
Morgan stayed in the shadows, observing. He could have sworn he saw a lavender scarf trailing out of the bag - similar to the one Reid wore; the one that it wasn’t even worth teasing him about. Maybe Garcia and Reid went shopping together? Shaking his head, Morgan headed for his own car.
He found himself following Garcia out of the garage and heading towards her house. He wasn’t too sure why, but he kept on following her, parking discretely near her house and then creeping along in the darkness, out of sight, as she got out of her car, carrying the overnight bag.
Garcia unlocked her front door and slung the bag inside. Then she lifted the box carefully out of the car, shushing and clucking at it. Morgan reached her driveway, and pinned himself against the wall, sliding behind a flowery shrub. He could hear Garcia talking softly to the box.
“Come on Spencer, we’re home now,” she cooed, “And don’t sulk about the box - kitty claws are no good for leather upholstery.”
Morgan held his breath as Garcia closed the door behind her. He shuffled along so that he could watch through the window and was surprised to see her open the box and lift out a small cat. Since when did Garcia have a cat called Spencer? Did his special girl have a secret crush on the genius boy? Morgan was struck with a sudden attack of jealousy and scowled at both Garcia and the cat.
He watched as she stroked and fussed the cat. Then she put it down and it wound round her ankles, almost tripping her as she opened a can and spooned the contents onto a plate. Setting it down for the cat, Garcia headed out of the room and Morgan froze on hearing her door open.
“Derek - why don’t you come on in?” she chuckled.
Sighing, Morgan came out from behind the bush, rueing his decision to attempt to blend in behind a 5 foot high flowering shrub.
Morgan followed Garcia into the house. As he walked into the living room, the cat startled, jumping sideways with all its fur standing on end. Garcia let out a low chuckle. “Don’t panic Spencer, it’s only Morgan. Finish your tuna.” She turned to Morgan and gestured at the couch. “Sit yourself down, sweetcheeks, and I’ll get you a drink.”
Morgan could have sworn the cat was glaring at him. It was really a kitten, probably about 4 or 5 months old, with soft tabby striped fur. He sat back and watched as it flicked its tail and then turned its back to him to continue eating.
When Garcia came back in with the drinks, Morgan spoke. “Is something going on with Reid?”
Garcia sighed. The cat had stopped eating and was now washing, licking several times at its paw before rubbing the damp fur over its face. “It’s not very easy to explain,” she started.
Morgan caught sight of the open overnight bag. “Those are Reid’s clothes in there!” he said, pointing at it. “Pen - what’s happening? Are you two dating?”
The cat stopped washing and growled, a low rumbling sound. Garcia laughed and picked him up, scratching him under his chin. “He’s not dumb, sweetie,” she said to the cat, “I’m going to have to tell him.” The cat squirmed in her arms and she set him down. Garcia looked at Morgan. “I am not dating Spencer, but he’s here.”
Morgan looked around, frowning. “Where?” He flinched as the cat jumped onto his lap.
Garcia sighed. “He’s on your lap, gorgeous.”
“What? This cat?” Morgan was incredulous. “Reid is a cat? Reid is this cat?”
Garcia nodded. “He does this shape shifting thing now and again and then he comes to stay with me for the weekend.”
Morgan stared at the creature on his lap. “You’re kidding me.” He looked up at Garcia. “You are kidding me?”
Garcia shook her head. “Nuh-uh, Babycakes. That is Spencer, right there on your lap.” She paused. “I can’t call him Reid when he’s a cat - it doesn’t sound right.”
Morgan realised his mouth was open and closed it. “Shapeshifting?”
Garcia shrugged. “That’s how he explained it. It just happens. He can sense it coming on - he gets a bit, um, cat-like - so I wait until he actually is a cat and then I take the bundle of feline gorgeousness home with me.” She reached out and caressed the cat. “You can pet him if you like.”
Morgan put out a hand and nervously stroked the soft fur. “Reid?” he asked, bending his head down, “What’s going on?”
There was a giggle. “Oh honey, he can’t answer you - that would be ridiculous! Cats don’t talk. But he does like to be fussed.”
Morgan continued to stroke the cat, smiling as it began to purr. “He is kind of cute like this.” Then Morgan grinned wickedly and picked up the cat, turning it upside down and tickling its belly. “I know how we can keep him in line,” he said, holding on as the cat squirmed in his grasp, “You could threaten him with a trip to the vet - get him fixed!”
The cat hissed at him and Morgan chuckled. “Man, you ain’t even scary when you do that as a human.”
The feline body in his hands twisted round and Morgan dropped him with a yelp. “Ow! He bit me!”
Garcia picked up the cat and cuddled him, shaking her head at Morgan. “Spencercat has very sharp teeth and claws - so be careful if you’re going to tease him.” The cat snuggled into Garcia’s bosom and glared at Morgan.
Morgan sucked at his bitten hand and tried to glare back at the cat. However, the small creature looked so annoyed and yet so cute at the same time, he just laughed instead.
The cat miaowed and struggled in Garcia’s arms before jumping down and hurrying to the back door. Garcia opened it with a sigh. “Go on,” she said, “But come straight back and no hunting. Just because you can doesn’t mean that you have to. Dead birds do not make cool gifts.”
Closing the door after the cat had gone into the garden, Garcia turned to Morgan. “Please don’t tease him about this,” she said, looking worried. “And before you ask, you know damn well why he’s gone outside.”
Morgan nodded. “Don’t worry, darling, I won’t say anything. Do you know why he does this?”
Garcia shook her head. “No. He says that it just happens without him doing anything. It seems to come on when he’s been stressed. Spencer says it started after that business with Randall Garner and his mom. He only told me because he needs someone to take care of him when he’s a cat. You have Clooney; Gideon and Prentiss would freak; Hotch has a toddler who pulls tails; and JJ is allergic.”
Morgan thought for a moment. “How long will he be like that?”
“Couple of days usually,” said Garcia. “First time, it didn’t occur to me to bring his clothes - he was asleep on my bed when he changed back and I thought the poor guy was going to die of blushing.” She giggled at the memory. “I made him a sarong to wear home.”
“Doesn’t it bother him - changing like that, I mean?”
Garcia sat down next to Morgan and patted his knee. “Between you and me, I think he likes it. Spencer’s a smart guy - he could find a way to stop it happening, but he doesn’t. My two cents worth is that he likes being taken care of and he likes being petted.”
Morgan frowned at her. “Reid likes being petted?”
“Yes,” smiled Garcia, “He likes being petted. Think about it - as the uber geek, he spends a lot of time on his own, he has no-one waiting at home for him and nobody ever touches him. At least when he is a cat, he gets lots of fuss and stroking without having to ask for it. He keeps letting himself change because he’s lonely.”
Morgan was absorbing this when a scratching noise from outside summoned Garcia to open the back door. He had thought of Reid as a loner, but hadn’t really considered him as lonely. Garcia was probably right - everyone needed a little escape now and again, and if being a cat allowed Reid to have that, then good luck to him.
Morgan spent a couple of hours at Garcia’s, sharing a Chinese takeout and teasing Reid. It amused him to see the cat watching him with disdain as he dangled a length of wool and then finally, unable to resist anymore, pounce on it.
As he got ready to head home, he picked up the cat and scratched behind its ears, feeling pleased as it started to purr. Reid had been through so much, he just wanted him to be happy, in whatever form worked for him.
“What are you going to do for the rest of the weekend?” he asked, handing the cat to Garcia.
“Oh, the usual. I’m going to read, do the garden, play computer games and watch movies. Spencer is going to sleep, eat, sit on my lap for a while and then sleep some more. Oh, and he gets to watch chick flicks with me without having to get them out of the store.”
Morgan grinned at her. “Well, have fun, both of you.”
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Back at work on Monday, Morgan smothered a laugh when he saw Reid sat, feet up on his desk, eating tuna out of the can with a fork.
Reid gave him a bashful smile. “I keep the taste buds for a day or so, but eating Whiskas in the office is going to get me some strange looks.”
Morgan nodded. “Cats have a nice life,” he said, “Must be tempting to stay that way.”
Reid nodded, looking thoughtful. “It is. But there are some downsides and the lack of opposable thumbs is so restrictive.”
Morgan smiled.
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Morgan managed to resist teasing him for nearly a whole week. Until he just couldn’t help it and left a saucer of milk on Reid’s desk after offering to fetch drinks for the team.
He regretted that a little when Reid took his own revenge. Finding the decapitated bodies of two mice in his desk drawer was not pleasant. Especially as he had been looking at his screen and feeling around in his drawer for a pen at the time. Reid had had tears rolling down his face, doubled over and shaking with laughter at Morgan’s horrified scream.
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A few weeks later, the team were sitting on the plane, heading for Miami. It was a Monday and Morgan knew Reid had been at Garcia’s all weekend. Suddenly, Reid started coughing hard, bending forwards with tears in his eyes. Hotch made to slap him on the back, convinced he was choking, but Reid got up and pushed his arm away, dashing for the bathroom.
They all ignored the sounds of retching, carrying on loud conversations until Reid returned, somewhat red-faced, and sat back down next to Morgan.
Morgan leaned over and spoke quietly. “You OK, man?”
Reid nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Something you ate?” asked Morgan.
“No,” replied Reid with a sigh. “Hairball.”
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Loneliness is comforted by the closeness and touch of fur to fur, skin to skin - or skin to fur.
Paul Gallico