Waking Theories

This is a Christmas present for my new found twin - hope you enjoy it Sweet :P

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds does not belong to me, only this storyline does

"Sweet, crazy conversations full of half sentences, daydreams and misunderstandings are more thrilling than understanding could ever be."
― Toni Morrison

The new case had arrived in the early hours of the morning.

It wasn't classified high-risk; no missing children, no serial killings just an occurrence of an escaped convict serving 25 years for the abduction of three women.

A simple case, especially as a previous profile highlighted the criminal to be of average intelligence meaning that he would be inadequate at covering his new tracks. However, for some 'important' secret reason that would be in truth too boringly political to bother making the effort to divulge into; orders had been sent from the head office for the team to work the break-out.

Usually a case forced upon their home by the ignorant suits would be left for a day to give everyone a minimal break; which was appreciated after having their first day off in a month as it averagely resulted in a lot of hung-over profilers who needed the recovery time.

Although unfortunately for these members, the vibrant tech-analyser had stumbled into another argument with her boyfriend that previous evening and as she couldn't get hold of her Chocolate Thunder, shots of caffeine had become her distraction meaning the presentation and research was foremost completed during the dark hours of the night and calls had been sent to drag everyone in – much to their displeasure.

This was why the striking silence in the conference room was extremely uncharacteristic; a heavy lack of theorising voices, clicking pens and tapping tablets, or on a certain doctor's part, shuffling paper, being absent.

Suddenly there was a vibration of a closing door and heavy footsteps echoed through the stillness, resulting in Aaron Hotchner entering the room with a phone in his hand, "Still no sign of either of them?"

The deep voice startled Emily and JJ, the latter who was collapsed on the brunette's shoulder and on opening their eyes a slight grimace graced their features as the artificial light hit; and Garcia, whose caffeine overload was finally beginning to show its consequences simply groaned from where her head lay flat on the round table.

"Nope – and I'm starting to question whether they sent this case in just as a prank to force us in at torturous hours of the morning," Rossi mumbled from the other side of the table where his feet were perched up on the smooth wood; opening one eye as he spoke to glance over to his friend.

A brief smirk flicked into existence, "Although I wouldn't put it past them, I doubt it's the answer today."

"My muffin's always late for these early starters," The muffled tone of Penelope interrupted, "It's baby genius who should have been here over an hour ago and quite frankly a beauty such as myself does not appreciate waiting after being ripped from the warmth of her cavern."

Hotch raised an eyebrow but decided to not point out that it was Garcia's doing that had brought them all here in the first place, so instead he sighed and hit his speed-dial, "Well let's see if he's decided to turn on his phone yet."

Following by clicking onto loudspeaker, the agent slid the phone onto the middle of the table and pulled up a chair. As the shrill ringing began Emily's gaze snapped to the device with a murderous glint, causing her boss to will Reid to answer the call quickly before he had to take the inconvenience of purchasing a new hand-held.

A click bounced into the room and graciously the gasping voice of Spencer Reid emerged from the phone, "Sorry, sorry – I've just seen the text, I've only just woken up – the alarm didn't go off, which is quite unbelievable seeing as the average possibility of a newly replaced one freezing in the time zone of the classified frame – "

JJ frowned and rubbed a hand over her eyes as her son's godfather began to set up a lecture, "Spence – please, not now, just when can you be here?"

"Hmm – " He responded, taking a second to shut off his statistic rambling, "Oh yeah – sorry, right, no I'll be there in twenty-two minutes."

The girls started to shut their minds down once more at the answer and Hotch glanced at his watch to calculate at what time they'd need the jet ready, reaching forward as he did so to hang up the call.

However, the next line spurred a reaction in the team similar to if an Unsub had just stormed into the bullpen waving two guns around whilst being strapped to a bomb.

Rossi almost fell backwards off his chair as his legs flew to crash to the ground.

Garcia's head snapped up from the table at such a speed that she could have given herself whiplash.

Emily jerked upright which caused JJ, whose eyes had widened to the size of plates to be thrown from her leaning position and roll across the room.

Even Hotch allowed an actual emotion of shock to show on his face.

"Derek, I'm out of the shower – why are you still in there? We're late!"

All fatigue and alcohol back-lashes had fled the area as the team glanced at one another with wary expressions; surely this couldn't mean what their brains were automatically assuming – but the implication of that sentence...

"Calm yourself Pretty Boy, I'm out – wait, where did you fling my shirt last night?"

A small squeak emitted from Garcia as images began to rush through her head, and on catching the glazed looked in Emily's eye, she wasn't the only one.

"Over in the corner, but it'll be ruined now – just take one of mine."

"Umm – why don't I just run home and grab one?"

"My style isn't that bad! Anyway it's your fault you need to borrow a shirt – you were too hasty to get into bed."

Hotch suddenly looked like he was on the verge of fainting as the youngest team member mentioned his bed and fellow agent in the same sentence; that was something he'd never wanted to visualise.

"Fine – I'll take this one… actually, maybe this one – "

"Just choose any of them, we need to leave – it's already down to you that we're late in the first place!"

"How's the alarm breaking my fault?"

"That isn't – but my natural body clock wakes me at 6.00am every morning, but you tired me out so it got thrown off balance!"

"Wait one second Kid – you're tired? Whose body was doing the most work?"

A green tinge actually seemed to be rising to Rossi's face as the two men continued speaking; did they not understand the concept of 'Too Much Information'?

Not that the BAU girls seemed to mind, as they were already attempting to hold in squeals of delight at the words they were hearing; not wanting to risk the men being startled and ceasing the new pool of insight.

"Look, go grab the keys and get in the car – sorry guys, we're on our way now. Although I don't understand why you called us in so early Garcia, seeing as if it was a priority case you wouldn't be waiting for us to arrive – oh wait, is it because – "

"Who's making us late now Pretty Boy?"

"Car. In. Move."

"You going to make me?"

"I'll tell you how I'll make you – "

The team leader's voice managed to quickly scrape back and before his mind was scarred more than it already was he swiftly croaked, "Meet us on the jet," Before slamming down on the 'End Call' button; leaving the room once again in silence, though now in the shocked variety.

A few seconds passed of the team all staring down at the phone that had just held the key to a completely different reality; then at the same time, Emily and Garcia slowly looked up at the other, grins sliding onto their faces and their lips readying to start the needed gushing.

However, halting the reiteration of the phone-call before it could begin Rossi grabbed his tablet and stood from the table, staring down the two women, "My brain was not ready for that, it's too early – I beg of you, let it assess and absorb before you bombard it all over again."

A flash of disappointment sparked in the girls' gaze but they closed their mouths, Garcia adding to the action by passing a fake zipper over her lips and throwing the older man a wink.

Rossi shook his head and followed a slightly shaky Hotch from the room, quietly whispering under his breath, "I need another drink."

The journey on the plane had left Reid and Morgan very confused and slightly self-conscious.

On stepping onto the jet, neither Rossi nor Hotch had looked either man in the eye; even while discussing the case if one of the superiors had caught their gaze it would snap away just as quickly. A faint blush had actually graced the leader's cheeks at one point when Morgan's hand had pressed over the doctor's mouth to cut off one of his ramblings, and the young man had licked the object in retaliation.

Emily and JJ were quite the opposite; their eye's had barely left the faces of the two men and the brunette's gaze had kept its intensity for so long that Morgan had begun to subtly shift away from her, feeling the she was either planning to jump him or kill him.

Yet whilst the staring match was occurring, JJ was throwing the youngest member such soft glances and a multitude of pats on the hand or strokes of the arm that he was obtaining a feeling that the media-liaison knew that his end was near and she was comforting him for his soon to be death.

However Garcia was the strangest, the never ending stream of sexual innuendos had been taken from the target of Morgan and instead were thrown over the innocent doctor to such a degree that eventually so much blood had rushed to his face he was worried for his health and hastily excused himself to the toilet; where he proceeded to remain for fifth-teen minutes.

"So Rossi and Emily go and talk to his guards and any cell mates or people he may have talked to, JJ and I will set up base and handle the media frenzy that's been set off," Hotch ordered, flicking to glance at each member as he named them, "Leaving Morgan and… Reid, to check out the site of escape."

The last two men shared a look at the distinctive stumble that had been in their boss's sentence as he'd given the last instruction, but neither of them mentioned it.

Gathering their items, the team began to exit the landed plane and as Morgan automatically took Reid's bag from him due to the kid looking ridiculous holding the over-packed item, a squeal from Garcia had them both turn around just to catch a delighted grin on her face before the signal cut off.

Reid's eyebrows drew into a frown at the woman's behaviour and he glanced at his friend who just shook his head as a reply.

"I've just learnt not to ask," Morgan stated, they were now the only two left on the jet and he could practically hear Reid's brain replaying the flight here.

Drawing his lips together and surveying the empty seats, the young man began to ask, "Did you notice everyone's behaviour being…"

"Extremely weird?" Morgan finished, chuckling as the doctor's head hurriedly bobbed up and down in agreement, "Don't worry about it kid – they're all hung-over, that or they've all been having some questionable dreams about us."

Reid grimaced at the thought and tried to shake the idea from his head, "Thanks for that – now I'm never going to able to look at any of them the same way again."

"That's what I'm here for," The older man laughed, ruffling the young agents hair, "Oh by the way – is my shirt really ruined? Because it's one of my favourites."

Patting down his now birds nest locks Reid sighed, "I may be able to get that woman's vomit out of it – but it would have been a lot easier if you'd just taken the time to put it in the washing machine rather than rushing to bed."

"But I was tired!" Morgan complained, "My body had been working all night on that dance floor."

The doctor sent him a glare, "Which is why we should have left the club earlier! I didn't even want to be there in the first place – and batting off wasted girls for hours on end was physically exhausting!"

"You could have gone home… there were plenty of homes to choose from," Morgan teased, dodging out of the path of his friend's hand.

"Then whose couch would you have crashed on when you got rejected by that pretty red-head?" Reid sniped back, ducking as the agent reached for his hair yet again.

Side stepping an attempted blow to his leg Morgan replied, "She didn't reject me, she just wasn't feeling well."

"So that horrified expression was because she was ill not because she saw your –" But his sentence broke into a startled shout as he tried to slide past Morgan and his attacking hits and tripped over his leg, dragging them both to the floor with a large thud.

Groaning the older agent leant up on his arms which were placed either side of Reid's head, who was rapidly blinking as black patches flew in his eye-line from the ache in the back of his skull.

"Guys are you –"

Morgan glanced up at the voice and caught his boss's gaze as he looked up from his phone; a stretch of silence elapsed over them, apart from Reid who was still softly groaning on the floor.

As Morgan opened his mouth to question Hotch on his shell-shocked expression the man slowly turned away and walked off the plane, not commenting on the sight he had just entered into; a final decision in his mind.

I'm never ringing Reid in the morning again.