Author's Note: I just thought of this cute little fic. The day after St. Patrick's Day. Oh well, better late than never. Enjoy! Reivew! I no own Criminal Minds.

When his alarm clock went off, Spencer Reid rolled out of bed.

Literally.

He hit the floor with a dull thud, then reached up and slapped his alarm off. Disentangling himself from his many blankets, he stood slowly, sleepily. Blearily, he made his way to his bathroom, not bothering to grab his glasses. Which he probably should have done, since he bumped off the dresser once, the door frame twice, and played ping-pong with the hallway walls.

Eventually, he made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the shower as hot as it would go, shed his pajamas and stepped into the shower. A second later, he leaped out, screaming, skin a lovely red color. Awake now, he scaled down the hot water and tried again.

After a nice, long shower, Spencer was running a little behind (as usual). After putting in his contacts, he hurriedly dressed in a white button-down, blue sweater vest, and a pair of khakis. Brushing his hair hurriedly (and ripping out a few chunks when tangles did not cooperate), then his teeth, he ran out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen. He made a pass at the kitchen table to swipe the four dollars and eighty-seven cents he had laid out the night before for his usual cup of Starbucks. Then, taking it at a run, he made for the door, grabbing his messenger bag on the way.

He never bothered to look at the calendar.

He ran into the coffee shop, where the staff all knew him. He was making his way to the counter when he felt it; a sharp pain in his upper arm. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked around, wondering what could have caused it. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeve to the spot and saw a purple mark blooming on his lily white skin. He looked at it for a while longer until someone shoved by him with a "Hey, get a move on, buddy!"

Shaking his head, he got to the counter where the barista automatically rang up his usual and held out her hand. Spencer placed the money in her open palm and she put it in the register. She knew it was the exact amount; that's how Spencer always did things, precisely and without wasting time.

She handed her coworker the cup, which he filled with coffee and other additives. When it was finished, he yelled out the name written on the cup.

"Genius!"

Reid hurried forward and took the coffee with a quick smile, and then went racing out the door and down the street. There was something odd about today, but he just couldn't place his finger on it.

Running down the stairs, he jammed his card into the ticket machine, grabbed the slip of paper, and then jogged to the turnstiles. He jammed the ticket into the slot, ran past the stile, and to the platform to wait for the metro.

He stood there for a few minutes, not long, surrounded by people. He was casually sipping his coffee when he felt it again; another stinging pain, this time on his opposite forearm. He gasped and his head shot up, looking for the offender. However, the assailant had run away and was nowhere to be seen.

The train arrived shortly after, and Reid boarded, eyes shifting around him. The train ride was the same as normal: quiet, everyone looking straight ahead, most bobbing their heads to their iPods. But there was something different that Spencer just could not figure out.

Reid finally walked into the FBI office, throwing his empty coffee cup in the trash. He was making his way to the BAU when he felt, for the third time, the sting. He looked quickly at his exposed arm to see yet another purple bruise blossoming. He snapped his head up just in time to see a man he knew faintly as Agent Donahue walking quickly away. He wanted to run after him and ask why he did that, but Spencer was already running late, and Hotch's wrath was something he did not want to incur.

He jogged into the bullpen and got to his desk just as the clock turned to eight a.m. Just as he was getting settled in, he heard someone calling his name. Looking up, he saw that it was JJ.

"Need something, JJ?" he asked, a friendly smile on his face.

"Yeah," she said, walking to him. JJ came to stand right beside him, waited for a second or two, then slowly stretched out her hand. Spencer knitted his brows together in his look of confusion that everyone loved.

When JJ's hand was a few inches away from Spencer's arm, like lightening, struck out, grabbed a bit of the flesh on his wrist, and squeezed. Before he could squeal in pain, she was gone. Papers rustled as she dashed up the stairs and into her office, door shutting with a snap.

"What the?" asked Spencer quietly to himself. The even perplexed him for a few minutes, but then he decided it was tome for more coffee. So he made his way to the coffee pot, where he met Prentiss.

"Morning, Emily," said Reid, offering a smile.

"Good morning, Reid," returned Emily, setting down her coffee cup.

"Hey, do you know what's going on with JJ--?"

But halfway through his sentence, she shot her hand out like a snake. Her fingers found the fleshy bit of his waist and squeezed.

"Yowch!" he yelped. He turned angrily to face her, but Emily had already run out of the room, taking her coffee cup with her.

Rubbing his side, Reid went on fixing his coffee. He had just put the sugar back when Hotch walked in, mug in hand.

"Morning, Reid," he said.

"Good morning, sir," replied Reid.

"Reid."

Spencer looked up, wondering what he had done to deserve the "you're in trouble" tone. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Hotch reached out and nipped the skin of his shoulder.

Reid was just about to ask, in not-so-nice language, why he had done that, but Hotch's "boss stare of daggers" stopped him. Instead, he just took his coffee and quickly left the break room. He had just made it safely back to his desk when Morgan approached him.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, what's up?" asked Derek, smiling.

"I don't know man," said Reid, setting down his cup. "It's like everyone's lost their minds or something. They keep--OUCH! What the hell, man?!" screeched Reid, rubbing his newly-assaulted side. Morgan simply smiled as he pulled his hand back and walked away to the break room.

Reid sat down, nervously looking around. What the hell was wrong these people? Every time someone would walk by him, he would panic and flinch. He managed to stay safely in his seat for almost an hour, until he realized that his pen was running out of ink. Meaning he would have to get a new one from the break room. Meaning he would have to get up.

Slowly, Reid got up from his chair and inched his way to the room. He eventually had his back pressed against the wall, not really caring how ridiculous he looked. He made it to the break room and quickly grabbed a pen from the pile. Then he turned around and strode out again. Feeling a little more confident that he would not be harmed again, he let his guard down.

Big mistake.

He had made it halfway through the bullpen when he heard quiet giggling. And then--

"YOWCH!"

Spencer jumped a few feet in the air, grabbing his butt. When he made it back down to Earth and turned around, he saw Garcia, still standing with her fingers together like little pincers, laughing maniacally.

"Okay, seriously, what the hell?" asked Spencer, voice a few octave higher, eyes narrowed, rubbing his backside.

"Oh, come on, Doctor," giggled Garcia. "Surely you know."

"Know what?" exclaimed Reid, voice still high. "Why my team has suddenly lost their friggin' minds? No, Garcia, I do not know!"

"Jeez, Reid, calm down," said Garcia, still smiling. "It's St. Patrick's Day."

"Wha?"

"St. Patrick's Day. Ya know, St. Paddy, the day to wear green and drink like there's no tomorrow!"

"Wait…" said Reid. He noticed what Garcia was wearing; green skirt, green top, green blazer, many green beaded necklaces, green bracelets, lime green pumps, green-framed glasses, green hair bands, all topped with a green child's tiara.

And then it hit him; all the people in the coffee shop had had on green. As well as the people on the train. And everyone in the office. JJ was wearing a green jacket, Emily a green blouse, Hotch a green tie (the most color he would ever wear) and Morgan a green t-shirt.

"Oh man, I should have looked at the calendar this morning," groaned Reid, his hand over his face. "I don't have anything green."

Garcia looked at him for a moment, surveying him. Then she seemed to take pity on him. Reaching for her own neck, she lifted one of her green bead necklaces and pulled it over Reid's head. Then she took off her tiara and carefully placed it on Reid's hair, adjusting it until it was center. Then she gave Reid an approving nod. Reid smiled like a little boy given a bucket of candy and trotted away. Garcia just smiled and returned to her clover cave.

Spencer sat back down at his desk and put his hands behind his head, basking in the no-pinch glory. Then something caught his eye.

Rossi had entered the bullpen. Wearing blue jeans. And a dark blue shirt. And a black jacket. Reid smiled as he stood up and hurried over to the older man, straightening his tiara as he went.

Today was going to be fun.

Okay, I admit it. I wrote this because I wanted Spencer to get his bottom pinched. Can you really blame me?