Disclaimer: see my profile

An this takes place in this season. Once again, I'm completely ticked off with "Reid meets a girl, she dies, is kidnapped, or is totally bonkers," scenario. This is my reaction to yet another annoying plot line. If you squint very hard, you could almost say this is a CM/Cinderella, but only if you suspend complete disbelief. For those of you that aren't familiar with my sarcastic sense of humor, this definitely is meant to be taken with a large grain of salt. Thanks again to my beta. REIDFANATIC is the best.

As he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he began to think this date was a bad idea. Every time he'd gone out on a date, or become emotionally attached to a woman, something terrible happened. Maybe, it was him. There had to be something wrong with him, right?

He sighed and pulled at his collar of his white dress shirt. He adjusted the navy blue tie with red diamonds around the knot he wore that matched his sweater and slacks. He looked down at his Converse shoes and wondered if she would laugh at them or at his mismatched socks.

Finally, he stopped running his hands through his hair and went to his living room. He still had two hours before the time he was to meet his date. He'd read some of the books he'd taken from the library and that would calm his nerves.

He'd was halfway through his second book when he heard a shuffling noise, and someone said. "Ah hem…"

He bolted up and his heart lurched into overdrive at the sight of a tall, skinny man with thinning blond hair and silver rimmed glasses, dressed in charcoal grey suit with a neat tie and shiny black shoes.

"Who're you?" His hand automatically went to his sidearm. "How did you get in here? I'm an FBI agent," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm aware of that."

The man's voice was musical, almost like a clarinet. He stood with his hands crossed calmly over his belt buckle, with his feet slightly apart. His ice blue eyes were warm despite their hue and he smiled.

"How did you get in here?"

"Magic," said the man.

He pulled his gun from its holster. "Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head."

"I assure you, I'm not here to do you harm, Spencer."

"How do you know who I am?"

"I'm Simon, your Fairy Godfather."

Spencer resisted the urge to laugh only because it seemed to be his lot in life to deal with mentally disturbed individuals. Somehow, this man had entered his apartment. He must've forgotten to lock the door when he'd returned from the library. Perhaps the man followed him from there and decided to make him part of whatever strange delusion he lived in.

"Sir, please back away and I'll call the police. We'll get you the help you need and -"

"I'm not mentally ill, Spencer. I'm here to help you with your date."

Reid kept his gun trained on the man. "How do you know about her? Are you watching me?"

"If you'll lower your weapon, I'll explain everything."

"No."

"Keep it, then, but it won't work."

"Don't make me shoot you and find out."

The man shook his head and picked up one of Spencer's books. He thumbed through it casually. "You met Cat at the library, isn't that right?"

"You have been watching me. How long?"

The man sighed. "We don't have much time, Spencer. I need to warn you."

Spencer's forearms were beginning to tremble as he held his gun on the man. There was something about him that made him want to lower it and give his hands a break, but considering his past experiences with less than stable individuals…

"What do you mean?" He heard himself say, inanely.

"When you meet her, she'll have a gun. She knows you're an FBI agent and she'll make you play a game with her for people's lives."

Despite the fact that this man couldn't possibly know the future, a deep shiver ran down his back to his legs and he believed. Maybe it was the man's tone, the way his eyes watched him with a solemnity that bordered on sorrow, or that he'd experienced absolute failure when it came to dating. He didn't know for sure and was surprised when he found his hands dropping to his side. He put the gun on the end table and faced the stranger.

"I'm listening."

The man shrugged. "That's it. I was sent to warn you and help you if I can."

"Why?"

"As I said, I'm your Fairy Godfather."

"There's no such thing as real magic."

"Then you won't mind if I give you some advice?"

"If everything you say is true, then I should be calling the police."

His "Fairy Godfather," shook his head. "You can't do that, Spencer. You tell the police that someone's going to pull a gun on you, without proof, and they'll put you in the psych ward."

"Then why did you warn me if there's nothing to be done?"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. You're the FBI profiler. I'm sure you'll think of something."

"That's it, that's all you can say?"

"I'd say it might be a good idea to call for backup. That's the term you use, correct?"

Spencer clenched both his hands into fists, then let them relax. This was ridiculous. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep on the couch and was having an anxiety dream.

"You're not dreaming," said the figure in front of him with a look of having heard all of this many times.

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it because it was clearly an exercise in futility asking this person how he knew everything.

"If I'm not dreaming, show me some real magic."

"As you wish."

Simon snapped his fingers and something that looked suspiciously like the kind of tablets his coworkers insisted on using at work appeared from thin air.

"What's that?" He asked irritably.

"It's an IPad." Said Simon with a look of "what did you think it was?"

"An IPad? Where's your magic wand? Come to think of it, where's your wings?"

Simon pursed his lips together so hard they turned white and his ice blue eyes flashed. "That's a little stereotypical and offensive, don't you think?"

"Why?"

"I'm a Fairy Godfather, not Harry Potter, or some Disney animated character. We have changed with the times. Everything is electronic these days. It cuts down on have to memorize spells."

"Sorry…"

Simon sniffed and touched the screen of his IPad. "I think you need a change of wardrobe if you're going out with a lady."

"But –"

Suddenly, he felt little tingles all over his body. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was alarming. He looked down and saw that he wore shoes with a mirror shine. He watched in utter amazement as his clothes from his pants up to his wrists rippled and changed into ebony black. It was as if he were part of some kind of CGI special effect. He looked down and saw that he wore a snow white shirt and a black bow tie. "What is this?"

"Why don't you go look in the mirror?"

He obeyed Simon without complaint and hurried to his bathroom. It was a tuxedo, Armani from the look of it. He strode back out to the living room.

"Now do you believe me?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to the ball. Isn't this a little over the top for a restaurant?"

"Management didn't tell me you're so sarcastic, Spencer."

"Management?"

"Well, yes of course… You didn't think I'm the only one, did you?"

"I don't know."

"I'm only one of many all over the world. We grant wishes and guide where ever we can."

Spencer sat on his couch and tried to process it all without wondering if he'd gone crazy. He looked down and noticed that the socks he wore were black and they matched.

"Sorry," said Simon. "I forgot about your, ah, peculiarities."

"Excuse me."

"Your mismatched socks. You seem to think they're good luck."

"They are," Spencer defended.

"Right, that's why you're about to meet a disturbed woman in a restaurant after a string of shall we say, less than successful dates."

He wanted to tell Simon to get lost, but he couldn't argue with someone that was right even if they were completely annoying."

"You may be right about the luck, but I still think a tuxedo is too much."

Simon looked him over. "They say clothes make the man, but as you say..."

He tapped another button on his IPad and Reid's clothes returned to normal. He looked down to see that his mismatched socks were back. It was weird, but he felt himself just by looking at them.

"Thank you."

Simon eyed him then gave him a reluctant smile. "I must admit this, "look," he said as though he'd just swallowed a mouth full of vinegar, "is you."

"Thank you," Spencer said again with emphasis on sarcasm in his tone.

"What about your car?"

"What about it?" Spencer inquired.

"You could use a new vehicle. I have several ideas in mind."

Spencer had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh. "Are you kidding? I'm going to arrest Cat, not try to impress her." Well, not now? He thought irritably.

"I thought I'd give you something you can use after you incarcerate the young lady. Call it a gift from your Fairy Godfather."

"No, I like my car just fine."

"You are a strange one, Spencer."

"I've heard that many times."

"I'm sure you have. Well," said Simon as he took another look around Spencer's apartment. "What about a fancier place to live?"

"No!"

"You're the only person I've ever encountered that turned me down three times."

"I don't care about all of that. I just want to meet someone that won't try to kill me or make me chose someone else to die."

"Hmm…." Simon said. "Oh dear me, it's almost time for you to leave. You better call this Agent Morgan, don't you think."

"I suppose," he said morosely.

"Thank you for a most interesting assignment, Spencer Reid. Be well."

He disappeared with a pop. Spencer sat for a long moment and stared at the spot were Simon had stood, then he picked up his gun, holstered it and reached for his phone. Morgan wasn't going to believe this!

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM

Two hours later, Reid personally took the handcuffed Cat to a waiting police car and bundled her inside. He ignored the way she glared at him and went back to talk to Morgan.

"Go ahead and say it," he demanded with resignation.

"Say what," said Morgan who was trying not to grin.

"That I'm a trouble magnet."

"I wasn't thinking that at all."

Reid watched as the black and white pulled out of the parking lot with Cat in the backseat. She's seemed so normal when he'd bumped into her in the library. Why did this always happen to him?

"I was trying to wrap my head around a Fairy Godfather."

"Don't ask me. I only know what I saw. He was right and we saved a lot of lives without firing a shot. That's all I care about right now."

"Well, you can cross libraries off your list," Morgan said as the crime scene went from frantic to the business of trying to make sense of the event.

"Why?"

"You can add it to the list of places not to meet women. So far you have, bars, libraries and art galleries."

"Hilarious."

"I'm just sayin', pretty boy. I think you should stick with street corners, instead."

"Why."

"Don't squeak. You know what I mean. The working girls love you and so far they haven't tried to kill you or kidnap you. That's a good thing, don't you think?"

"That's nowhere near funny, Morgan!"

Morgan stopped him as he tried to walk away. "Hey, I'm sorry, man. I want you to find some nice girl and be happy."

"Me too, I just don't know how to do it."

"You don't have to figure it out right now," said his friend. "Go home."

He waved off Morgan and turned for his car. Home was the only place for him to go. He needed peace and quiet and the chance to forget another chapter of his insane dating life.

THE END