Reid My Mind

9. SoCal (jealousy)

still feel it all - MALO

"Prentiss," Morgan whispered when we walked into the San Diego Police Department, "Stop drooling."

"I'm not drooling," she said, but her eyes didn't leave the detective in front of us. I could understand why. He was young, probably late twenties. Tall, well built. Chiseled jawline. Very handsome. JJ introduced us one by one to Detective Bailey. Firm handshake, I noted.

"Very nice to meet you all," he said, looking directly at me with his blue eyes. Mmm, California boys. Except the outfit, he looked like he could be straight off the beach.

"Let me show you where you guys can set up," he said.

"That might be the hottest man I've seen in real life," Prentiss announced in a hushed tone when he left the room. Morgan raised an eyebrow. I laughed.

"Seriously, did he retire from a career as a supermodel?"

"JJ, stay here and get set up," Hotch instructed, "Morgan, Prentiss, talk to the parents of the last victim. Rossi, you're with me, I want to talk to the coroner. Reid, Davis, Detective Bailey will take you to the latest crime scene. See what you can find." I nodded.

Prentiss, elbowed me, "Lucky."

Someone new, I thought to myself as I climbed into the front seat of Detective Bailey's car. Reid slid into the back. A new distraction, something I could actually leave behind next case. Hell, I was young and in my physical prime. I want going to waste that tied down to a crush. Not that it was really a crush, what I felt for Reid. Had felt. Past tense. Anyways, Bailey fit the bill perfectly.

"You from around here?"

"No, California though. I grew up in San Francisco," I replied.

"Makes sense. I can always spot a California girl."

"Is that so?" I asked, amused.

"Sure is," he returned casually, leaning back into his seat, "Can take a girl out of California, but you can't take the California out of a girl." At that I laughed.

"It's a shame, San Francisco, though," he continued.

"What's wrong with San Francisco?" I said defensively. No one but me was allowed to insult my hometown.

"Well, I was hoping we could be friends, but know that I know you're from NorCal, I could possible fraternize with the enemy," he teased. I giggled in spite of myself. Damn, he was kinda smooth.

"At least you have Reid. He's from Las Vegas."

"Oh really bro?" Bailey directed over his shoulder, "That's cool. I love Las Vegas."

Reid, clearly caught off guard by being called "bro", could only offer up a tepid "Thanks".

"We're here," Bailey said and pulled up to the curb.

"Try not to blind yourself in the sun. I know you're probably used to perpetual fog," he said to me.

"Don't be jealous," I said and opened the car door.

"What's to be jealous of? SoCal is superior in literally every way possible," Bailey state's matter-of-factly.

"Not a chance, Surfer Sam." He clutched his chest in mock pain as we walked toward the other side of the parking garage where the victim was found.

"The traffic is better. The food. The schools. The tech industry," I rated off.

"Ok, you might be right about the traffic. But the food? Clearly you need some recommendations." His tone was unabashedly flirtatious. The angled sunlight lit the asphalt of the parking garage floor.