Morgan was beat. He unlocked the door to his home, hoping that his neighbor had already walked Clooney for the night as much as he'd missed his dog. His readybag was dropped next to the door and he stumbled in for a few steps before hitting... a chair
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A quick assessment showed that he looked right, but Reid knew that in this place, appearances could be deceiving. Still, he decided it was worth the risk.
"Morgan?" he called.
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"That's great, but there's no one at the bar. I don't even see any--"
Now he looked down, trying to find one of the 'servers'.
"You weren't kidding about the rats, were you?"
And one of them, of course, in accordance with the laws of comic timing, squeaked up at him.
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"Go ahead and order whatever you like. I promise, it's very real, and just fine."
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The rat got a skeptical look.
"You do microbrews?"
The little rat tilted his head and despite all the insanity of the moment, Morgan couldn't help finding it kind of funny.
"I'm kidding, man. Sam Adams, something light. Think you can do that?"
He got an affirmative squeak as one of his friends came out to help with the coffee mug.
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"'Weird' is another one. I don't remember the books mentioning this place showing up where it doesn't belong."
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"Sam Adams," he reported, obviously not expecting the rat to get it right.
"Nice to know my beer makes it to the end of the universe."
It's the small victories.
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"Beat?" he filled in. If it was Garcia, there were a few other things he would have supplied, but for Reid? 'Beat' would do it.
"Just got in from New York."
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...those eyebrows could do wonder for silent expression.
"New York," he repeated, slower this time as he considered what he could say that wouldn't give things away if they were from different parts of the timeline. It didn't matter that he thought this was all kind of nuts; Reid believed it, and if there was a chance of causing harm to his friend or his team, he'd try and play by the rules.
"Garcia is still pissed at my choice of vehicle for that drive into Central Park."
That should work.
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"Ah, yeah, uh, you're... You're from my past," he said quickly, punctuating his statement with a sip of his coffee.
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He winced, shook his head, and decided that a long sip from his beer was a much better idea. He'd been in the SUV with Hotch for way too long to come home to this. The universe, she was a cruel mistress tonight.
"This is gonna give me a headache, man."
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Though the temptation, with some of the cases, was very, very strong.
He grimaced.
"And when you go back, don't mention this place to me."
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