I was reading something the other day, and it gave me an idea for a Reade/Zapata fic. Still can't figure out if I ship them or like them as friends, so this was interesting to write. I do enjoy writing these guys though, so let me know either by review or PM if you have any prompts.

Any mistakes are mine, I didn't use a program with a spell checker (and kinda avoided proof reading), which was probably not my best decision ever.

No particular time period these are set in... Maybe in a universe without Sandstorm? This initally started off as a fun idea and quickly turned into me wrting just about every cliche possible! Also angst and whump is clearly my thing.

Five Times They Kissed + One Time They Didn't

1.

"Reade, Zapata, get out of there, he's headed your way!" Zapata heard Patterson's frantic call through the earpiece.

"I'm almost done," Reade replied, eyes still focused on installing the bugged hard drive in the computer. "Ten more seconds."

"We don't have ten seconds Reade," Zapata pulled him away from the computer, and out of the study. "Where is he, Patterson?"

"5 feet from the door," she answered quickly. "4, 3..." Zapata searched the room quickly, looking for a hiding spot. Spotting none, she pulled Reade again, walking to the wall.

"He's at the door!" Patterson yelled. "Do something!"

Tasha's back suddenly hit the wall and she shifted her arms, pulling Reade flush against her.

"Kiss me," she muttered, her face right next to Reade's.

"What!?" Reade asked, incredulous, attempting to put some space between his partner. Tasha sighed and pulled him again, standing on her toes and kissing him. Barely a second later, the door flew open.

"Hey!" Someone shouted from the door. "What are you doing?"

Reade broke off the kiss and turned to face the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he cried, hands up in surrender. "Please don't shoot. We were just looking for somewhere quiet!"

The guard took in Tasha's mussed hair, and their rumpled clothes.

"You can't be in here," the guard said. "Get out." The pair nodded, and Reade grabbed Zapata's hand, pulling her with him as they exited the room. They hurried down the hallway and back into the party before they let out a sigh of relief.

"Let's not cut it that close ever again," Tasha said, fixing her hair once Reade released her hand. He nodded, straightening his tie.

"Never again."

2.

"Tasha are you alright?" Reade walked past his partners' desk, almost doing a double take when he saw her practically passed out on her keyboard. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, and she shot upright.

"What?" She asked, blearily looking around, one hand coming up to wipe her nose.

"I asked if you were okay," Reade repeated himself when Tasha finally looked at him. She just blinked. "Clearly the answer to that is no." Reade reached for her bag, placing the open files on her desk inside before spinning her chair around to face him. "Come on," he offered his hand. "Let's get you home."

"I'm fine," Tasha argued, doing her best but failing to hide a cough. Reade grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet, where she swayed unsteadily.

"Yeah," Reade replied sarcastically, as he pulled her to his desk. "Fine." He quickly packed his bag, keeping one eye on Zapata, ensuring she wasn't going to fall. Passing Weller's office on the way to the elevator, Reade looked inside, but it was empty. "I'll call him once we get you home," he assured the slightly worried looking Tasha.

Half an hour later, Reade had managed to navigate the nearly gridlocked streets of New York and made it to Tasha's apartment. She had barely lasted five minutes into the drive, and was now passed out against his passenger window. Reade pulled their bags from the back seat before gently shaking Tasha's shoulder again.

"C'mon Tasha," he shook a bit harder when she didn't move. "You gotta wake up for me." The best response he could get was a groan, so he sighed and moved to the other side of the car. He carefully opened the door, half catching his only semi-conscious partner, before pulling her into the apartment building.

"Where are your keys, Tasha?" She mumbled something incoherent, so Reade was forced to search her bag. He finally located them ("There's a lot of crap in here, Tash...") and opened the door. Manuvering them inside, he carried Tasha into her room, and carefully placed her on the bed. He headed to the bathroom, locating some flu meds before filling a cup with water and returning. She still hadn't moved.

Reade pulled her into a seated position and brushed some hair out of her eyes.
"Tasha," her eyes slowly blinked open this time. "I need you to take these," he said, putting the pills into her hand. She obliged, also drinking most of the water he offered. Her eyes slowly closed again, so Reade repositioned the pillows underneath her. He pulled her shoes off and covered her with her blanket. As he was about to pull it over her shoulders, Tasha's hand shot out and caught his, pulling him down to her, and she kissed him. She dropped his hand, and Reade looked down, but she had fallen asleep again.

Reade pulled the blanked up, then left the room and dropped onto her couch, flicking the TV on.

Sometime the next day, Tasha emerged from her room, blanket draped over her shoulders, confusion plasted across her face.

"Reade?" She mumbled when she spotted him passed out on her couch. She walked over to him, and sat down near his feet. "Reade," she said again, shaking his feet. He shot up, almost kicking Tasha off the couch.

"Hey," Reade finally got his bearings back. "How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" Tasha asked instead.

"You were sick at work. I brought you home." Tasha blinked.

"And decided to crash on my couch?"

"You were pretty out of it," Reade said as he stood and stretched. "I wanted to make sure you were alright, and took some medicine."

"I don't remember anything since Tuesday." Reade frowned.

"Not even going to work on Wednesday?" She shook her head. "When I woke you up to take meds?" Shook her head again.

"Guess I was pretty out of it," she joked, standing up. "Want some coffee?" She moved around the back of the couch and into the kitchen. Reade ran a hand across his lips. "Reade? Coffee?"

"Yeah, coffee would be great," he said, dropping back onto the couch with a sigh.

3.

"Alright guys, time to call it." Patterson groaned the loudest when Tasha cut them off.

"But we're having so much fun," she slurred, staggering over to the agent. Zapata caught her, just, and set her down on the couch.

"Clearly," Tasha muttered, as Patterson immediately passed out. She looked around the room at the other FBI Agents, all very, very drunk. Jane and Reade had passed out a while ago, and Zapata had managed to manuver them to the inflatable mattress she had set up in a moment of genius thinking. Borden had disappeared about an hour ago to take a phone call, but never returned. Had Tasha been slightly more sober, and less sleep deprived, she might have considered checking on him. As it was, she spotted Reade staggering into the kitchen, empty bottles of beer in his hands.

"Ed," she called after him, following him to the kitchen. "I'll do it," she said. "You're too drunk to be holding that much glass."

"I'm fine," he replied, nearly falling over his feet as he turned. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll do it," she said again, taking the bottles from him. "Go and sit down for me, yeah?" Tasha heard him moving when she turned, so assumed he had done as she suggested. Moments later though, a heavy weight crashed into her, and she fell, bottles going with her.

Tasha winced at the sound of breaking glass, and again from the combined pain of a piece of glass piercing her arm, as well as the solid weight of Reade on top of her. She looked up to see Reade grinning drunkenly at her.

"Do you mind?" She asked, gesturing with one hand at their current predicament. Reade just grinned again before leaning down and kissing her. Using her free hand, she managed to push at Reade's chest, hard enough to seperate them. He finally rolled off her, and Tasha managed to get to her feet. She offered her non bleeding hand to Reade and pulled him up, supporting most of his body weight as she moved him to her spare room. She dropped him (somewhat unceremoniously) onto the bed, and turned the light out.

Heading back into the kitchen, Tasha finally managed to get a look at the blood trailing down her arm. Wincing again, she decided there was no glass in the wound, and she one handedly wrapped it with a bandage from her first aid kit. She quickly swept the glass from the floor and put it in the bin, before she locked her apartment, turned out all the lights and went to her own room.

As she changed into her pyjamas, she smiled briefly when she remembered the dopey smile Reade had been sporting all night. Maybe it wasn't so bad being the least drunk person sometimes, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.

She was certainly agreeing with that thought early the next morning when their phones rung, alerting them to an urgent case. She was not jealous of their hangovers.

4.

"You know, if you want to pass geometry, you actually need to show up." Tasha rolled her eyes as she wandered in to the library, dropping her bag and flopping into the chair.

"See the thing is, Edgar, I don't really care about geometry." Reade rolled his eyes.

"That's not my problem,"

"Actually, I heard it is." Reade shot her a look. "You mean, I wasn't supposed to find out that the football star was on probation? And that he has to help the problem student or he'll be off the team?" Reade scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Look," he said, turning to look at Tasha. She had a pencil in her hand, chewing on one end. "I'm on probation because I did something stupid at practice. I need a scholarship to get out of this town. To get a scholarship, I need to play football." Tasha rolled her eyes. "You may not care about geometry, or school, or anything," Tasha shot Reade a look this time. "But please, for me, help me out." Tasha sighed.

"Fine," she groaned, pulling a notebook from her bag. "But don't expect me to be on time." Reade nodded.

"I can work with that."

Eight weeks later, Tasha wandered into the library, much like she had two months ago, and slid into a chair next to Reade. She dumped her notebook on the table and dropped her head onto it.

"That bad?" Reade asked, sighing. Tasha didn't reply. "That's fine," Reade assured her, "We can keep working. I've got three weeks left if I have any hope for game time this season. Get your book out." Tasha ignored him and blindly groped for a piece of paper in her bag. Eventually finding it, she shoved it in his face, sitting up.

"Tasha, what is this?" He asked, pulling it away and looking at it properly. "A 94?" Reade shouted, incredulous. "You got a 94?"

"I should be offended that you're this shocked." Tasha deadpanned.

"Tasha Zapata, I could kiss you right now."

"Please don't," Tasha frowned, leaning away. Reade leant back in his chair, smiling at the paper.

"Ed," Tasha said, snapping him from his trance. "Go to practice. Get your scholarship." Reade stood up and packed his books, pulling Tasha into a hug.

"You're kinda ruining my image here Ed." He coughed and stepped away.

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Practice?" Tasha reminded him.

"Right, yeah," Reade said as he began jogging. "You're amazing, Tash!"

"Hey, so I heard you got a scholarship?" Reade turned at the familiar voice behind him. He grinned when he spotted Tasha leaning against the locker next to him.

"I did, sorta," he said. "Columbia." Tasha grinned.

"You nerd." Reade just laughed.

"You know, if you keep working hard, you could go to college somewhere too." Tasha laughed.

"Nah, I'm good." Reade smiled.

"Well," he started, looking around the emptying hallways. "It's been nice knowing you, Zapata."

"Have fun in college," Reade nodded.

"If you're ever in New York," he said, "come see me?" Tasha smiled again, and Reade leaned in. "There's no one around," he fake whispered conspiratorily, glancing around the hallway. "Can I hug you?" He didn't give her a chance to respond before he wrapped her in a hug. She pulled away slightly.

"I'm really happy for you," she smiled up at him. Reade looked down, and leaned down, kissing her. When he pulled away, she smiled again. "See you around, Ed." She slipped something into his hand and walked away.

"See ya, Tasha," he called after her, grinning when he found a slip of paper with her phone number on it. He looked back up and watched her walk down the hallway and disappear into a room before he emptied his locked and walked out of the school for the last time.

5.

(Scenes from 2.10/11)

"You should put your leg up," Tasha told him, picking up a pillow.

"You need to quit fussing over me, I'm okay." He assured her. The doctors had cleared him, and he'd be back at work in a few days once the painkillers had cleared his system.

"Hey, macho man," Tasha ignored him. "Put your leg up." She dropped the pillow on the coffee table in front of him, and gave him a pointed look.

"You would've made a hell of a nurse," Reade told her. Tasha laughed, and Reade smiled at her. All he had been trying to do the past few days was reassure her that he was fine. It seemed she had finally accepted that.

"You hungry?" She asked him, positioning herself next to him on the couch.

"I can make my own cup of noodles." Back to reassuring it was then.

"Okay," she sarcastically replied. Reminding him with a look that he wasn't supposed to stand on his leg too much, even if it was fine. "Will you just - just relax," she told him, leaning in and pushing him into a more relaxed position on the couch.

She looked at him, and in that moment, Reade only saw the care she had for him - the only woman who actually knew what he went through at work every day, knew what he had been through in the past few months. "Put your leg up, please." She continued.

But Reade cut her off, leaning in quickly and kissing her. His leg twinged painfully (not that he'd tell Tasha) and he leant back quickly, searching her face. She frowned, and Reade's stomach dropped.

"What are you doing?" She asked, looking away for a second before looking back at him, eyes questioning him.

"What's it look like?" He replied. Tasha just frowned again.

"You're my best friend."

"Exactly." Reade told her. "You know me better than anyone else." He frowned slightly, realising that maybe she didn't follow his reasoning. "It makes sense, Tasha."

"We're friends," Tasha said after a moment. "That's all." She watched him carefully, her decison made. Reade looked down and frowned again. After a few moments, he leaned back, sighing.

"I'm going to go," Tasha said quickly, standing awkwardly to leave. Reade watched her leave, and after hearing the door shut, closed his eyes and sighed at the pain in his leg, and now in his heart.

"Hey," Tasha called when she walked into the office, spotting Reade back in his suit, sitting at his desk. "Welcome back."

"Hey," Reade stood as she approached.

"You feeling back to normal?" Tasha asked, not just referring to his leg.

"Pretty much." They both just nodded for a moment. "What'd I miss?"

"Not much," Tasha replied. "Turns out Borden's a mole, Jane's brother's a prisoner downstairs, and they caught that rat in the locker room." Tasha folded her arms, finally making eye contact with Reade.

"They caught my boy Whitey Bolger?" Reade asked, trying to get a smile out of her. It worked. Sort of. After another moment, Reade sighed.

"Tasha I was on pain meds, my head was cloudy." She didn't quite let him finish, grimacing when he brought it up.

"I know, I know." She avoided eye contact again for a moment. "We're cool, right?"

"Hundred percent," Reade assured her. He had been thinking about it for the past few days and honestly couldn't figure out why he had tried to kiss her anyway. It had to have been the pain meds. Tasha didn't seem to believe him.

"Alright, I'm gonna go check on Patterson," Zapata told him, turning to leave.

"I gotta catch up on these files," Reade said at the same time. They stared at each other briefly before Tasha simply turned away. Reade looked at his feet. This was going to take some fixing.

+1

"Guys?" Patterson called over the earpieces, recieving only static in response. "Guys, what's going on?"

Meanwhile in the "abandoned" warehouse, Weller, Jane, Reade and Zapata had split up, opting to search the area faster because of the lingering bomb threat. Jane had walked through the back of the warehouse, and finally spotted the bomb.

"Guys, I've found it," she said, touching a hand to her ear to active the earpiece. Hearing nothing in response, she tried again. "Weller? Reade? Anyone?" Jane frowned and carefully walked toward the bomb, looking for a timer. It still had four minutes on the countdown. Frowning, Jane took one last look at the bomb and ran from the room.

Weller was closest, she figured. Warn him, then find Reade and Zapata. It took 47 seconds (she was counting) until she literally ran into Kurt.

"Bomb," she gasped out. "Just over three minutes left." Weller nodded.

"Go find Zapata," he told her, pointing in the direction the other female agent had been sent to search. "I'll find Reade." Jane nodded, and took off again. She ran through the whole area Zapata had been sent to cover, but found nothing.

"Zapata?" Jane finally yelled. There was only 90 seconds left on the clock. "Tasha?"

"In here," a voice responded. Jane hurried over and found Tasha pushing herself off the ground, blood trickling from a cut over her eye. "Asshole snuck up on me," she said, gesturing to the unconscious body next to her. "What's going on?"

"There's a bomb in the building. "We have less than a minute to get out of here." Zapata nodded. "Are you okay to run?"

"Fine," Zapata waved off Jane's concern. "Closest exit is that way." Zapata pointed in the direction of a side entry they had spotted on the blueprints before they infiltrated.

Jane and Zapata hurried to the door, pulling it open at the same time as the bomb went off. A shockwave sent debris flying everywhere, knocking into the unprepared agents. Jane flew forward, crashing hard into the concrete floor outside the building. Tasha was thrown sideways, debris smashing into her as the walls of the decrepit building fell.

As Tasha felt something crunch into the back of her skull for the second time in less than 5 minutes, she vaguely heard someone calling her name. She couldn't figure out where it was coming from, and soon she simply passed out.

"Sir, please, calm down." A thin, wiry doctor dressed in green scrubs pushed Reade away from him.

"Is she okay?" Reade asked again, stepping closer to the doctor. At this point, Weller intervened, placing himself between Reade and the somewhat concerned smaller man.

"Agent Zapata will be fine," the doctor started, experience telling him that it was the most important piece of information. "She has a severe concussion, fractured ribs which caused a punctured lung and a broken arm, but she will be fine." The doctor turned to Kurt when Reade had finally stepped away.

"Miss Doe is also recovering nicely. A fractured wrist, a concussion and lots of scrapes and brusies, but she will be fine."

"Can we see them?" Reade asked, calmer then he had been in hours. The doctor nodded.

"Miss Doe will be discharged in a few minutes, you can wait here for her." Kurt nodded his thanks. "Agent Zapata will need to remain here at least overnight, possibly for another day. She's asleep at the moment, but you may see her. Ask that nurse," the doctor pointed at a red headed nurse down the hall, "for her room." Reade stepped toward the doctor and offered his hand. The doctor took it, and Reade shook it.

"Thank you Doc." The doctor nodded, and turned to leave.

The red headed nurse had taken Reade straight to Tasha's room.

"If either of you need anything, please, let me know." She told him as she left him at the door. Reade nodded his thanks. He took a deep breath, and stepped in.

Reade didn't want to ever see Tasha looking this way again. She had a stitched cut under her eyebrow, bruising all over her face, and a puffy, split lip. Her left arm was in a sling, a white cast peeking out from under it. Reade could see tubes snaking around her ribs, but couldn't face seeing what they were doing. Instead, he dragged a chair from the other side of the room and sat down next to her, pulling her good hand between his.

"I'm so sorry, Tasha," he told her sleeping form. "We shouldn't have split up. You said it was a bad idea." Reade sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

A while later, Reade couldn't really tell how much later, he heard a whisper coming from his partner.

"Are you crying?" Reade's head shot up, and he might have teared up slightly when he saw his partner looking back at him.

"No," he denied, placing a hand on her cheek. "How are you feeling?" Tasha grinned at him.

"Oh, excellent," she told him. "I love morphine." Reade laughed, and so did Tasha, but she immediately tensed up when it sent sharp pains through her ribs. "What's the verdict?" She asked Reade, her mood suddenly dampened.

"Concussion, broken ribs, punctured lung and broken arm." Tasha pulled a face. "But you'll live."

"And Jane?" Reade shook his head.

"She's fine. You took the worst hit." Tasha nodded.

"Certainly feels like it." She looked back at Reade. "You guys were out of the building?" Reade nodded, until Tasha gestured to his face.

"Just debris," he told her. "Nothing serious." Tasha nodded again, and attempted to shift positions on the lumpy hospital bed. Reade placed a hand on her shoulders to still her.

"Don't move," he told her, preventing her from causing too much pain. Tasha gazed up at him, and he moved a hand back to her cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay, Ed," she told him, moving her hand to pat the one on her cheek.

"Me too," he said. "I'm gonna get your nurse, yeah?" Tasha nodded her thanks, and Reade swept some hair from her face. "Be back in a minute." Tasha's head rolled to the side, and she smiled as she watched him leave.

So, none of these really turned out how I expected.

Let me know if you have any prompts, I'd love to give them a shot! :)

Pending the return of my muse, I may also continue/expand on the high school AU thing.

Please review!