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Fic: "The Faraday Case" (Criminal Minds)
colourmebipolar
Title: [6/?] The Faraday Case 
Author/Artist: colourmebipolar
Rating: FRAO
Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Characters/Pairings: Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings: One scene of explicit rape in the first chapter. A few possible spoilers from and up to season 5.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I am not looking to profit from them.
Summary: A case goes badly wrong and Morgan and Reid are trapped at the mercy of two sexual sadists, Tom and Eric Faraday. Morgan/Reid slash. Focuses on their recovery and relationship after the trauma.

In less than half an hour they were on the plane heading for Ohio; they all knew the statistics for abducted children. There was no time to hang around. Reid took a seat by the window table and Morgan sat opposite him. They still hadn’t had a chance to talk yet.

Prentiss came over with the open laptop and set it down on their table so Garcia could see them all through the webcam during the briefing. Hotch began with the details of the latest victim

“Lucy Davies, twelve years old, went missing on the way to school.”

“How do we know she isn’t just cutting class?” Prentiss asked.

“Her schoolbag was left by the side of the road we think she was abducted from.”

“So the unsub has a car?” Morgan said.

“I think we can safely assume so, yes. Each girl’s dump site was far enough from the site of abduction that some sort of vehicle would have been necessary.” Hotch took out two photos, one of Maria Goldmund’s body, one of the first girl, Viola Jackson. “The established MO so far has included a range of methods of torture. We are definitely dealing with a sexual sadist here, he keeps them for up to a month, bound with rope and gagged while he rapes them repeatedly.”

Morgan glanced at Reid, but the young man didn’t show any outward signs of distress. He just stared at the pictures bleakly, his hands fidgeting restlessly on the table.

“The final cause of death has been asphyxiation in each case, he uses his hands to give him utter control over their death, so he can look them in the eye when the life leaves them.” Prentiss added.

“Okay, when we land we make our base the house of Lucy Davies, try to keep the parents calm, find out everything they know, and wait by the phone in case the unsub contacts them.”

“You think he will?” JJ asked.

“Look at the photos, the way they’re tied up naked, with their legs spread like that, the way he smashes up their faces. He’s going for maximum shock value, not anonymity. He’s narcissistic, so he’ll probably contact the parents or the press pretty soon.  JJ I know it’s too late to keep the story out of the media, so could you give them a statement saying we have very few leads? I’m worried that if he thinks we’re closing in on him he may kill the girl and run. Also, ask them to avoid hurting his self-image or belittling him, or he may do something to her in retaliation. Garcia I want you to widen the boundaries, look for other murders where the victims were tied up and displayed like this, it’s possible he’s new to the state.”

“Yes sir.” She saluted them, blew a kiss at Morgan and signed off.

“Why do you think he’s just moved here?” Rossi asked.

“I’m not certain he is, but something in his use of dump sites suggests he doesn’t know the area well. For example with the first victim, he avoided this whole stretch of mostly empty road here and placed the body in a ditch in a public park, which is a pointless risk. Then, instead of dropping the next body far away from it to conceal his location, the next site he chose was under a rail bridge not two blocks away.”

Rossi nodded. “So there could be more victims.”

“Let’s hope I’m wrong. In the mean-time everyone prepare yourselves and get some rest. It’s going to be pretty hectic down there.”

The team nodded and all withdrew to their own little corners of the plane, leaving Morgan alone with Reid. The young man wouldn’t meet his eye.

“How’re you feeling?” Morgan asked finally.

“I’m okay.” Reid mumbled.

“Right.” He raised an eyebrow. “How’re you really feeling?”

“Fragile.”

Morgan gently placed his fingers over Reid’s writhing hands which belied the rigid mask of serenity he wore. Reid hastily subdued them and finally looked up at him.

“You should be at home resting.” Morgan said.

Reid shook his head. “Dilaudid withdrawal symptoms peak between 14 hours and 21 hours. The worst is behind me. A couple of weeks and I’ll be back to normal.”

Morgan felt the young man’s forehead with the back of his hand. It was burning hot and clammy.

“You didn’t need to quit cold turkey. You’ve got to be in agony right now.”

“It has to be this way. I can take it.”

Morgan’s heart stuttered at his friend’s bravery. I love you so much, he thought, wishing he could do something to help.

“Last night…” Reid began. “thanks. For warning me about Hotch.”

“No worries man. You’d have done the same for me right?”

“Yeah. It’s just…I hate that you had to see me like that. I always promised myself…that no matter how bad it got, I would never be a burden to anyone.”

“You aren’t.” Morgan said matter-of-factly. “I’d do anything to help you, you know that."

“I told you. I don’t need any help.” Reid said exasperatedly.

“Sure. Sure. You’re totally all-powerful and invincible and independent. Sorry Superman, I forgot.” He laughed. “I’m just saying, if Superman ever…you know, needed a break or something from being Superman, I just want him to know that it’s cool. Robin has his back.”

Reid scoffed. “Robin is Batman’s sidekick. If you’re gonna use superheroes in your metaphors you should at least read a comic book once in a while.”

“Woah I’m sorry Superman.” He held his hands up mock-defensively. “But maybe Robin moonlights as Superman’s sidekick now and then. Would that be okay?” he nudged Reid’s foot with his own.

“I suppose.” Reid nudged him back, and a short foot war ensued, ending with Morgan pinning both Reid’s feet down.

“Pffft. If I hadn’t just injected myself with kryptonite yesterday I’d have totally owned your ass.”

You already own my ass baby boy. Morgan thought, grinning. You just don’t know it yet.

He released Reid’s feet, but their legs stayed entwined. Not scandalously so, just in that their calves rested against one another comfortably. Reid leaned his head against the window and watched the clouds batter the plane like angry ghosts

Suddenly the laptop gave a beep to signal Garcia’s return.

“Wow that was fast babygirl, you done already?”

“Oh yes, Reid isn’t the only one with superpowers on this team.” She winked. “Cute conversation guys.”

Reid went bright red.

“Uh…Garcia, I’d appreciate it if…”

“No worries Clark Kent, your secrets are safe with me. Mama-Garcy has your back.” She laughed. Morgan shook his head at her mock-disapprovingly.

“Have you always been able to listen to us after you hang up?” he asked suspiciously.

She gave a short burst of maniacal laughter which made everyone on the plane jump.

“Can we get back to talking about the case please?” Reid said.

“Very well Sugarplum. First off, wow was Hotch right about our killer, he has been busier than we realised. I’ve just sent you a list of thirteen girls who were all reported missing, then found dead and tied up around a month later. The first three deaths were all years apart, but since last year there’s been one death every month with terrifying regularity. He keeps jumping state lines so the police never connected them.”

“There could have been some kind of trigger which started the escalation, something he took to be a slight to his manhood.”

“It’s actually unusual for paedophiles to be so violent. They generally use emotional manipulation or drug the children to get them to comply.” Reid frowned.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not sure. The torture definitely reads more like a sexual sadist. But for the two conditions to combine in one individual is statistically very unlikely.”

“So you think this isn’t the work of a paedophile?”

“I think it feels more like an ordinary sexual sadist with a personal grudge.”

“What can a twelve year old have done to make him this angry?” Garcia said, shocked. “No wait, don’t answer that. Just tell me what you need.”

“Nothing for now babygirl, we need to talk to the parents and work out our profile.”

“Okay. I’ll keep my feelers out on the internet. Hotch said he might be filming the torture and rape, and uploading it so he can…” she stopped when she saw the look on his face. “Morgan? What’s wrong?” she asked.

"Nothing babygirl. We’re landing now so I’m gonna have to shut you down. Keep up the good work.” He said, with hollow cheeriness.

“Oh…okay. Over and out.” She gave a half-hearted salute and ended the call.

He shut the laptop down and looked at Reid. He was looking at the table, his face still blank, but he was scratching his left wrist, a little too hard so his nails left a trail of pink lines crossing over each other. He had such expressive hands, Morgan noticed with a smile.

Reid saw Morgan watching them and pulled his sleeves down over them self-consciously, then smiled sadly.

“It’s getting hard to ignore the similarities now isn’t it? I half expect we’ll find Eric Faraday’s evil twin is behind it.”

Morgan squeezed Reid’s knees gently between his thighs in a sort of knee-hug.

“I know.” He smiled and leaned forward. “But we’ll get through this, I promise you that. Okay Superman?”

“Okay.” Reid rolled his eyes at the nickname. “And then you and I are going to have a superhero movie marathon to educate you.”

Morgan laughed. “Deal.” He agreed casually, though the thought of just sitting on Reid’s couch with him in the dark, eating popcorn and talking, made a couple of butterflies awaken in his stomach and tickle his gullet. He tried not to smile too much.

They sat in comfortable silence while the plane finished its descent. There were two cars waiting for them at the airport, which took them to the house of Lucy Davies.

Hotch rang the doorbell and a tired looking man in his late twenties answered it. He was carrying a sleeping baby girl, clutching her to his chest as if scared somebody would try to steal her as well. He was quickly joined by a woman.

“Are you Tom and Deborah Davies?” Hotch asked. They nodded anxiously. “I’m Agent Hotchner from the FBI, this is my team of specialist profilers. May we come in?"

“Sure.” Said Mrs Davies standing back from the doorway.

Hotch sat down with the couple on their couch while the rest of the team stood around them and listened.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but I need to ask you some questions, is that alright?” Hotch asked gravely.

They nodded. “We’ll do anything if it might help get our daughter back.” Mr Davies said, his voice cracking. The baby girl looked at him worriedly and started to whine.

“Here, why don’t I take you up to your room for some playtime?” JJ said, holding her hand out. Mr Davies hesitated but then smiled and thanked her.

They went through every possible angle again, no family disputes, no irate employees, no obvious link to the other families. Hotch also went through the procedure in case of a phone call. The phone didn’t ring though. Morgan went through to the kitchen and made coffee for everyone. He sighed and leant against the kitchen sink waiting for the water to filter through.

“Doesn’t look like he’s going to call them today.” Reid spoke quietly from the doorway.

Morgan massaged his forehead.

“I can’t stand waiting around here and not doing anything. I was thinking, it wouldn’t hurt to check out the place she was taken from, see if he left a footprint or something.”

Reid nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. Can I come too? I could use some fresh air.”

“Sure.” He nodded. “Man I just can’t stop thinking about what that psycho could be doing to her right now. She's just a little child. Imagine how scared she must be.”

Reid nodded. “I don’t have to imagine.” He said so softly Morgan almost didn’t hear him.


Hotch agreed to their trip and Morgan and Reid set off walking to the bus stop. The journey only took a few minutes, but the afternoon sun beat down on them mercilessly.

Morgan looked around the quiet street, trying to get into the persona of somebody who wanted to kidnap a child.

“Okay, she’s twelve years old, pretty, confident, well adjusted. She’s not easy prey. So what do I do? I get her isolated somehow, so no one can hear her scream.” He frowned. “So why wait until she’s at the bus stop? Surely that would be a time where it’s most crowded with children catching the bus, parents driving their kids to school?” he muttered to himself.

“Maybe she got there late?”

“Still, it’s an exposed, suburban street, plenty of nosy neighbours.” Morgan looked around. “The police interviewed the residents and they all saw nothing. How could a street this close not notice a screaming child being dragged into a car?”

He and Reid looked at each other. “Because she didn’t scream.” Reid answered.

“She knew him.”

Morgan suddenly noticed they were being watched by a young boy playing with a basketball in the front yard of his house. The kid was just standing there holding the ball and looking worried.

“Hey kid!” Morgan called. The boy dropped his ball and ran back into his house.

“You’d make a terrible child molester.” Reid blurted out. He then slapped his forehead and looked mortified. “Oh God I’m so sorry! I wasn’t thinking!”

Morgan laughed and slapped Reid on the back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He said. “D’you think that kid got spooked cos we’re cops or because he knows something?”

They went and rang the doorbell. Nobody answered.

“Looks like mom and dad aren’t home.” Reid smirked. “Don’t go breaking down his door now. Honestly I’m starting to think it gives you some kind of twisted sexual release. You’re like a sexual sadist for doors.”

Morgan dignified that response only as far as raising his eyebrows and giving him a sharp elbow in the ribs.

“Door pervert!” Reid hissed, clutching his side.

Morgan looked through the letterbox. The boy was standing in the hallway, trembling.

“Hey kid, don’t worry, I’m from the FBI, I won’t hurt you.”

“Are you here to arrest me?” the boy asked nervously.

“Arrest you? No. Why would you think that?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Okay…listen, could you please open this door? We don’t have much time. There’s a little girl in trouble and I think you might know her.”

“You mean Lucy?” the boy bit his lip and opened the door. He was skinny and tall for his age, with blonde hair and a deep freckled tan. He wore a basketball jersey which looked too big for him, and denim shorts which had holes at the knees.

“Yeah.” Morgan said. They walked through to the kitchen and sat down. “So what’s your name?”

“Joseph.”

“I’m Derek, this is Spencer. We’re here to catch the bad guy who took Lucy away. Are you friends with her?”

Joseph smiled proudly. “She’s my girlfriend. We love each other and we’re going to get married one day.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Cool.” Morgan tried not to laugh. “How do your parents feel about that?”

“Dad laughed and said we were too young.” His face fell. “So we’re saving up our pocket money to run away. That’s why…” he stopped himself.

“Why what?” Morgan asked.

“It’s a secret. She said she would break up with me if I told anyone.”

“If you know where she is you have to tell us Joseph.” Morgan looked at him seriously. “She could be in real trouble right now, and you could be the only one who’s able to save her.”

Joseph looked torn. “Okay. She saw this ad in the newspaper we were using in art class, it was looking for pretty blonde girls between 10 and 13 to be models, like for TV commercials and stuff. She said she was going to apply in secret, to raise enough money for us to get married. Today was her audition.”

Reid and Morgan exchanged glances.

“Do you know have a copy of the newspaper?”

“Um…I think Lucy took it with her. But I remember the name of the agency I think…yeah it had a real funny sounding name. It was called ‘Little Nymphets’.”

“Morgan!” Reid stood up and pulled him into the hallway.

“That’s him! And that’s an obviously fake name too!” he whispered excitedly.

“What?”

“It’s a reference to a book by Vladimir Nabokov, called Lolita. It’s about a paedophile called Humbert Humbert, who marries a woman in order to get close to her 11 year old daughter. He calls the prepubescent girls he thinks are sexually awakened in some way ‘nymphets.’”

“I’ll call Hotch.” Morgan said. Just then, there was a key in the door and a tall blonde man with deep set wrinkles walked in wrestling three bags of groceries.

“Who are you?” he demanded. They quickly flashed him their badges and explained what was going on. Joseph came out of the kitchen.

“I’m coming with you.” He said, sticking his chin out. “It’s my job to save her. I’m her boyfriend.”

“That’s brave of you, but-”

“Please! It’s my fault she got taken! She never would have tried to get that modelling job if I hadn’t asked her to marry me! She was so smart, she wanted to be a vet, not a model!” he blinked and big tears plopped out of his eyes. He wiped his face with his arm angrily.

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about her.” His father said, bewildered.

“Excuse me sir but we have to hurry. You and Joseph can probably wait with the Davies if you’d like?” Reid said.

“Okay. Get in the car Joey, I’ll drive you there.” His father said.

Morgan and Reid hitched a lift back with Joseph, and Morgan phoned Hotch to let him know what they’d discovered.

“A modelling agency? I suppose you have to give him points for creativity. Any idea which newspaper it was?” Hotch said.

“The kid can’t remember, but I’ll call Garcia, ask her to do a search for a company website or any other articles.” Morgan replied.

He hung up and dialled Garcia’s number.

“Hello my lovely, what can I do you for?” she asked huskily.

“Oh you can do me for absolutely nothin’ at all babydoll, but if you have the time I need you to look for a newspaper ad published recently about a modelling agency called Little Nymphets. Look for payment details, anything.”

“Okay, but this could take some digging, and you know I can’t do anything if he paid in cash.” She said.

“I know but we gotta try something, and fast.”

“Roger that.” she replied, sounding concerned. “Be careful.” He was about to say he was always careful but then remembered that since he himself had been kidnapped not a week ago he could hardly claim this to be true. She’d hung up by then anyway.

“We’re just about ready to give the profile.” Hotch said to the cops who were taking notes in the living room.

Morgan stood up. “He’s most likely a white male between 25 and 35, who owns a large expensive looking car, while his house, if he has one, is neglected on the inside. He may not even have a house as we know he travels extensively from state to state. He feels underappreciated and victimised by work colleagues and bosses, and as a result finds it difficult to hold down a job. We know he is severely narcissistic, probably works out a lot, takes care of himself. He is confident, even charming with women and children, which is why he chooses this elaborate ruse rather than simply picking off the first child who strays in his direction. He plans and prepares every detail meticulously, it gives him a feeling of control and ensures he can spend all the time he wants with his victim. He probably films himself abusing them in order to relive the experience. We do not, however, believe that he is a typical paedophile, in that he is not innately attracted to children.”

“How can you say that, when he rapes them over and over?” a dark skinned female officer asked sceptically. There was a small sob from the doorway as Mrs Davies came into the room with a tea tray.

“Ma’am, I’m really sorry…” the cop started to say, but the woman had already left the room. Prentiss stood up to go and comfort her.

Reid picked up the conversation, “In answer to your question officer, the extensive marks of torture on the bodies show he is primarily a sexual sadist, meaning he achieves sexual release through torture. The actual act of intercourse with them we believe, is more of a psychological punishment and a way of defiling their innocence. A paedophile is more likely to appreciate the girls unharmed bodies as sex objects, and the killing part would be remorseful for them, only a necessary means to protect themselves. They would tend to want to keep the children for much longer as well. Of course, this is just speculation, but what it all points to, is that he is a sexual sadist with a grudge against somebody who looks, or at one time looked just like the young girls who were taken. By violently torturing them he is vicariously enacting his rage for this person onto the girls.” he explained.

The officers nodded and left. JJ re-entered the room with the Davies’ sleeping daughter in one arm and her phone in the other hand.

“I’ve just called the other parents to ask about the modelling agency line. Viola Jackson didn’t tell them about any modelling company but when they looked in her bedroom they found a newspaper ad for a company called Teenbabes Modelling, same thing asking for blonde haired blue eyed children, and it listed a telephone number which is now out of service, go figure. Maria Goldmund also said nothing to her parents but an investigation of her chatlogs showed her talking to a friend about modelling auditions the day before she went missing.”

“Don’t any girls ask their parents’ permission for these things anymore?” Rossi asked.

“You’d think so, but the ads are really persuasive and sneaky. Viola’s parents faxed them over. Take a look.” She handed one to Prentiss, Reid, Hotch, Morgan and Rossi.

Teenbabes Modelling Agency Looking For New Talent!

Are you sick of being told what to do by your parents because they’re the ones with all the money? Are you fed up with being forced to study boring subjects because adults who are jealous of your talent don’t want you to be famous? Are you blonde haired, blue eyed and between the ages of 10 and 13? If you answered yes to all three of these, we can help you change your life! We’re looking for teenage girls to star in a TV commercial, $500 for one easy day of filming, leading to a possible permanent contract with one of our agents. Call our experienced talent scouts and set up an audition whenever suits you.

“Oh, my God.” Morgan said.

“He’s profiling his victims to a T.” Prentiss said in disgust. “Playing on little girls’ dreams of being famous to isolate them from their parents.”

Just then, the laptop beeped on the table and Garcia appeared.

“Uh, hey guys, I did some research and found the articles in question. Bad news on that front, he used cash for everything, and the numbers he used must have been disposable cell phones. Bu-ut, I think you should take a look at this;

Sarah Parish 17, escapes from abuser after being held captive for 7 years.

The parents of Miss Sarah Parish had given up hope of ever seeing their daughter alive again after she disappeared at the age of seven. An investigation was conducted into her disappearance and made state-wide news headlines, several details from the case were leaked such as a link between the missing girl and a fake talent agency named ‘Little Starlets’ but this was never publicly confirmed. Last Tuesday, Sarah returned home in nothing but a thin blood-stained cotton dress with bare feet covered in blisters and gave her parents the shock of their lives. She is now in hospital being treated for severe malnutrition, dehydration, shock, and anaemia, as well as the numerous contusions and bruises covering every inch of her small body. “It is clear,” said Dr Howard, the Chief of Medicine at Adams County Hospital, “she has undergone unimaginable torture during the time she has been missing, she has not yet spoken to any of us, even her parents, she is so severely mentally traumatised.” Sarah’s father said “To think that any human being could be this cruel to such a beautiful, kind hearted girl…I seriously don’t know whether I can believe in the goodness of mankind anymore.” and then he broke down into tears for his lost daughter.  

Hotch looked at the date of the article. “She must have been his first victim.”

“The only one who escaped.” Reid remarked.

“He never kept them for so long after that.” Morgan said grimly.

“Do you think she escaped? Or did he let her go for some reason?” Prentiss asked.

“Well you can ask her yourself.” Garcia said. “I did some digging on Sarah Parish and found a current address for her. It’s only a couple of hours away from you guys.”

“Thank you Garcia. We’ll head down there now. JJ can you warn the local newspapers not to run any ads for talent agencies? But don’t let them publicise that we know that’s how he’s getting the girls, he’ll be following the investigation rigorously trying to find out if we’re onto him. Tell them the little girl’s life is at stake.”

“Sure, right away.” JJ nodded and handed the baby to Rossi, who cringed visibly as if he’d been given a tarantula, and passed it to Morgan, who jiggled it uncomfortably for a second before trying to give it to Prentiss, but she just laughed at him.

“What, do you think just because I’m a woman I’m happy to just stand around holding the baby while you go and do the real work?”

Morgan looked at the child. It began to cry.

“Shhhh…shhh please. Aww come on Prentiss! What am I meant to do with her? Don’t you ladies have some sort of instinct for this kind of thing?”

Prentiss looked at the baby warily. “I must have missed that particular class at Woman School.” She said sarcastically. “Along with the flower arranging, knitting and faking headaches to get out of having sex.” She smirked. “Never needed any of them so far.”

Morgan raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

“I would strongly recommend supporting the head, as infants are born with under-developed sternocleidomastoid muscles and if held incorrectly you could permanently damage the muscles and put pressure on the brain or even cut off the air flow in the trachea.” Reid piped up helpfully, opting to ignore the direction Prentiss had steered the conversation.

“You mean I nearly killed her just by holding her?” Morgan said, so distressed by this that he forgot to be manly and cuddled the baby close against his broad chest, stroking her back. She quieted down immediately and snuffled his ear like a puppy. She was kind of cute, apart from the ever present fear that she would vomit on him.

“Well well boy-genius, you have your uses after all.” Prentiss smiled. “Aww this is so cute I’mma have to take a picture. Hold still. Reid, you get in there too.” She held her phone up.

“Don’t you dare!” Morgan hissed.

“Too late.” She grinned. “Don’t worry I’ll send you two a copy. Along with everyone else at the office.”

“Prentiss, Rossi, you come with me to visit Sarah. Reid and Morgan you stay here in case he calls, and Reid see if you can get a location from the three dump sites.” Hotch gave the commands and left. The other two followed.

“Great.” Morgan sighed. “I’m an FBI trained nanny.” The baby squawked softly and Morgan rocked her from side to side.

Reid smiled. “If it makes you feel any better you’re going to have even more women throwing themselves at you than usual if Prentiss really does send that to everyone. Women are psychologically driven to mate with men who show good fathering skills, as it increases the likelihood of the offspring surviving.”

“Really?” he tried to sound enthusiastic.

Reid looked at him curiously. “I suppose the novelty of women desiring you must wear off after a while?” He speculated.

“No…it’s not like I’m not flattered by it or anything, I just…I don’t really want a relationship at the moment. Or any kind of…you know.”

“Oh.” Reid said timidly. “Is that…is that because of…because of what happened with us?”

Morgan didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t want sex with women because he had never wanted sex with women. But he didn’t want sex with men either. Not because he was still pining over Reid, (okay he was always pining over Reid.) but more because of being generally unsettled by the thought of being naked and being touched and not having full control of his personal space.

He shook his head and went for the classic ambiguous reply, “I don’t know. Maybe.” He sat down on the Davies’ sofa as his legs were starting to get tired. Reid joined him.

Luckily Mr and Mrs Davies came into the living room at that point, along with Joseph and his father. Morgan suddenly felt awful for the couple, and felt the need to apologise.

“I’m so sorry, this is your house and we all crowded in and out all day and it must hard enough for you without us invading your home…and oh! I’m holding your baby, is that okay? Would you like her back?” he went to stand up but Mrs Davies put a finger on her lips and motioned for him to stay sitting down.

“She’s teething like the devil!” she whispered. “I have no idea how you managed to get her off to sleep but thank you! She must really trust you.”

“Oh.” Morgan smiled gratefully at the baby. Ha, take that Prentiss!

“She’s got good taste in FBI trained nannies.” Reid smiled.

It was a tiny soap bubble of happiness, but it was happiness all the same. Talking with Reid on the plane, the few moments he got to lie down next to Reid in his apartment. They all built up. He was still in negative life-happiness points so to speak, but life was slowly starting to repay the debt. Even if his happy moments were decidedly Reid-centric.

He hoped Reid felt the same.


Link to chapter 5: http://colourmebipolar.livejournal.com/1771.html
Link to chapter 7:


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