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A/n this is a one shot inspired by the events of "Sex, birth and death. What could have happened if Garcia and Reid had met up after Nathan tried to kill himself.

Rated M for adult content

She opened her eyes to bright sunlight seeping into the room around the edges of her light purple curtains. She blinked several times and reached up a hand to wipe some of the lingering sleep from her eyes. She picked up her glasses and put them on. The room came into focus and so did the clock on the night table next to her arm. It read eight thirty-seven am. She turned over and looked at her bedmate that still slept soundly.

Her robe was hanging over the chair in the corner of the room so she got up and wrapped up in her favorite red kimono. She went to the bathroom and removed her glasses again to brush out her curly blond hair and think about the night before when he'd knocked at her door.

Morgan had followed her home after the ambulance had left with Nathan in the back. Her hands were tacky with his drying blood on them. She'd had to shoo Morgan away at the door. His overprotective attitude grated on her nerves that night. While she appreciated that he was concerned about how she was dealing with seeing a young man nearly bleed to death in front of her, she just wanted to have him gone.

He had gone away with a scowl on his face, but she didn't let it sway her into calling after him. They were friends, but it would never go any further than that, she was sure.

She'd taken her shoes off and washed her hands. Her blouse was ruined, but the skirt could be saved. She'd thrown it in the hamper and pulled on a pair of red and white stripped sleep pants with a pink tee shirt.

It was cold in the apartment so she wrapped up in the throw that was tossed over the back of her couch. Sleep seemed like something that wouldn't happen soon, so she put in her favorite movie, "The Princess Bride," and tried to forget all the blood and misery of the day.

The movie was half over when someone knocked at her door. "Better not be Morgan back here." She muttered to herself as she headed to the door.

The person on the other side of the door was the last person she'd expected to see standing there. "Reid? Are you okay?"

He sidled into the room as if sneaking into a place he shouldn't be. "I can't get the blood off my hands."

He held them up to her. They were beet red as though he'd spent the last hour scrubbing them and she supposed he probably had done just that. His eyes were red-rimmed and his face was so pale, the skin looked like delicate parchment paper over bone. The dark circles under his eyes had deepened to add to the skull like look of his face.

"My God Reid, your hands," was all she could say.

She left him standing near the couch and went to the bathroom. She came back with her favorite lotion. "Here, put some of this on your hands. They're just about raw."

"Garcia…"

"Don't argue with me Reid. Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

He put the lotion on his hands. She watched as he rubbed them together with a listlessness that she'd never seen. His hands always moved with a grace that their owner never seemed to notice.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have come here. I just didn't know what to do."

"It's okay…"

She put the lotion on the counter and hugged him tight. He'd shed his blood stained sweater vest, but still wore his light blue dress shirt and his slacks from work. She felt him tense as she held him tightly and then he relaxed. "It's not your fault! You did everything you could to help him."

"What if I saved him and someday he kills someone. That blood's on my hands."

She pulled away from him and gave him her best glare. "So now it's up to you to save the whole world. You can't force anyone to behave Reid. We all have our free will."

"I know but -"

She took his face in her hands pulling his head down to eye level. "You can't change the whole world Spencer Reid. All you can do is what you do every day, make a difference."

It happened without thought. One minute she was looking him in his haunted eyes and the next minute he was kissing her like no one had ever kissed her. His lips were warm against hers and they moved as soft as fingertips on cotton sheets. A gasp of surprise turned to a moan of desperate need from her because she was so cold.

He pulled away from her groan of need, going pink to the roots of his hair. He looked alive, instead of like a dying man. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

"I do." She said and pulled him back into her arms.

He pushed her away again when the need for breath had become a desperate need. "No… You're my best friend, we work together."

But she'd felt his arousal against her abdomen. She was getting wet and the bone chilling cold was retreating. There was no way to turn back now.

"No… I'm cold and you're shaking."

"It's a reaction to what happened. Post traumatic Stress Disorder often manifests in a desperate need for intimacy." He began to lecture.

"I don't care." She pulled him forward by the top of his pants.

She ignored the voice in her head that said this was wrong. She slid down his zipper and pushed a hand inside to stroke his hardening manhood.

"God… Garcia please, don't… please stop."

"It's okay baby."

"You're my friend…" He squeaked.

"I know… Be my friend and make me warm. I'm so cold. Please Spencer. "

"I can't…"

"Yes you can," She said breathlessly. "I can feel it."

He pulled away from her, his chest heaving. His face was scarlet and his hand shook. "I can't because I never have before." He hid his face from her as he whispered his secret.

"It's okay."

"No…"

"I'll be gentle sweet pea."

She pulled him back and kissed his neck.

"I don't know what to do."

She smiled at him. "Then just do what you want. Go with your instincts." She pulled off her tee shirt and he gasped. "Garcia…"

"Touch me."

He reached out a trembling hand and touched one of her naked breasts. His fingers caressed her skin and she almost came right there. "You're doing great," she gasped.

"Really…"

"Oh yeah… You have magic hands. Now kiss me."

He pulled her in close and she pushed down his pants. One hand resumed stroking the bulge in his plain white cotton boxers.

"Garcia… God, that feels good."

"You like that."

"Yeah…"

She began unbuttoning his shirt. "Why don't you explore a bit more?"

"What…"

She looked at him and he smiled. "Oh…"

His hands reached out and pushed down her sleep pants. His hands touched her stomach and she began to laugh.

"What?"

He looked so distressed it stopped the laughter in her throat. "I'm ticklish. I forgot."

"Oh…"

"Why don't you try a bit lower?

His hands trembled as they stroked down to she sweet spot. He felt the wetness there and instantly pulled away.

"It's okay… It's normal."

"Where?"

"The bed."

He followed her clad only in his white boxers. She turned and pushed them down, while stroking him until he thought he'd burst. "Penelope." He gasped.

"Come here." She pulled him down on the bed.

"What do -?"

She opened her legs and guided him inside her. "Oh Garcia," He cried. "You're so warm."

He moved tentatively and then with more force as she encouraged him with kisses and cries. It was over very fast. He cried out and collapsed on top of her.

"Penelope…"

"You okay." She asked as he moved off her.

"Yeah… I didn't hurt you, did I?"

His kind eyes would have made her cry if he didn't look so much better than when she'd answered the door to him.

"No…"

"I didn't mean for this to happen when I came over here."

"I know…"

"Was it okay?"

"It was very sweet and gentle." She smiled. "Just like you, the rest doesn't matter."

Something dawned in his head. "Oh… I'm sorry Garcia I should have tried -"

"It's okay. The first time with someone isn't necessarily fireworks."

"But I -"

She put two fingers to his lips. "Don't spoil it Reid."

"But…"

"Go to sleep."

They climbed into the bed and he was asleep in minutes, while she lay awake in the dark for a long time.

His voice brought her back to the present with a thud. "Garcia?"

She went back to her bedroom. He was sitting up with the sheet pulled up around his chest. "Hi," He said shyly.

She smiled at him and winked. "How did you sleep sweet cheeks?"

"No nightmares for the first time in a very long time."

"I'm glad."

She went to his side of the bed and sat next to him. "Are you okay?"

"I still feel guilty if that's what you mean?"

"Yeah, but you were really shaking and you washed your hands nearly raw. You scared me to death last night."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"What now?'

"Now we have breakfast. You can take a shower if you want." She slapped his blanket-covered leg.

"No, I mean about us."

"We'll talk about it over breakfast."

"I don't want you to think that I just used you Garcia. I really care about you."

"I know that Spencer. It's okay. Now get in the shower and I'll make us breakfast."

"But…"

"It's Saturday Reid. We can worry about Monday on Monday morning."

"Alright!"

She left the room and went to the kitchen. Now her hands were shaking. Tears backed up in her eyes when she heard the shower start up in her bathroom. It had been a mistake that she shouldn't have let happen. Her heart hurt like it never had when thinking about Morgan, and how he'd never look at her as more than a great friend.

"You'll have to just suck it up and make it work Penelope." She scolded herself.

She would go into work on Monday and she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't moon over him or treat him any different. It would all be okay. After all, it was only comfort they'd given to each other. It didn't mean anything other than that. Now if she could just make her heart believe it!