I blinked, forcing my eyes open again, a pale gray light now shining into the hallway and slicing the carpeted floor into streaks of shadows. I glanced at Reid, I couldn't see his face but he shifted slightly on the chair so I knew he was still awake. It had been almost three hours, it was nearly six in the morning and we had to be at work in two and a half hours.
Aside from the usual sounds that accompanied living in an apartment building, though, nothing had happened. The fear had subsided with the oncoming day, but there was no reason to suspect the unsub wouldn't still come after me once the sun had come up. He'd sent me letters and emails all times of the day, so I doubted he would change that M.O. once he came after me.
For the past eternity, it seemed, there had been no noise but the ticking of the clock and Reid and I occasionally shifting positions in our seats, which is why the buzzing of Reid's phone made both of us jump. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, turning to me and saying, "It's my mom. Do you mind if I take it?"
"Yeah, go ahead," I replied, trying to keep my voice light even though I felt extremely foolish about making him come over here and sit up with me for three hours over, as it turned out now, nothing.
I got up off the couch and stretched, carrying my gun with me to the kitchen and then searching through the cupboards in vain for some coffee. It was the least I could do for freaking out and making him come over in the middle of the night, especially considering how much we all knew Reid liked coffee, but I knew for a fact that I didn't have any. I didn't drink it, or tea, so that means he was stuck with the cold cans of soda I had in the fridge.
I knew Reid's mom was in some sort of institution, he sent her letters almost everyday, but other than that I knew little about her, and him. I wasn't about to eavesdrop, though, instead I got to work cleaning up the mess I'd made from the dinner I hadn't eaten last night--well, this morning. I was too tired to be hungry right now anyways.
After Reid had hung up with his mother, he stepped up into the kitchen and came up behind me, asking, "You still planning on going into work today?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" I replied defensively. I had made up my mind a while ago that I wouldn't let my stalker get to me, and though I'm pretty sure by now I was just lying to myself about it, I still wouldn't give up.
"You haven't gotten more than three hours of sleep in two days and you've been worrying about whoever's been threatening you for longer than that," he said.
Yeah, he definitely suspected I was lying about the letter he had seen by accident five days ago. I suppose he was a profiler, though, and about as experienced at realizing when someone wasn't telling the truth as I was at hiding it. That doesn't mean I had to accept it, however.
"It's no different than when we work a difficult case, and all I'm doing today is paperwork. I think I can handle it," I answered a bit dryly.
I visibly saw him repress a sigh and then he asked defeatedly, "Nothing I say will make you change your mind, will it?"
I set a dish in the sink with a soft clink before turning around and remarking sarcastically, "You know me so well."
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but then must have decided against it, because he closed it and paused before telling me instead, "I'll see you at work in a little while, then," rubbing his eyes with one hand.
"You sure you shouldn't be the one not going into work today?" I teased.
"I'll be fine after I get some coffee," he said, heading towards the door.
"Sorry, I'd offer you some but I don't have any here," I apologized with a shrug.
"Don't worry about it," he replied easily, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He almost closed it but then opened it just enough to stick his head in the crack between the doorframe and the door, calling my name, "Charlie."
I glanced up, slightly surprised. That was twice in one day that he'd used my first name.
"Be careful," he said, his voice full of worry and warning.
He disappeared, closing the door before I even had a chance to respond. I sighed, deciding I might as well go take a shower since I had time to waste before work, and I certainly wasn't going to spend it catching up on the sleep I had missed.
I packed up my stuff after my shower, and it was then that I noticed Reid's leather messenger bag was still sitting on the armchair where he had dropped it last night. I threw my own messenger bag by it so I'd remember to take it with me and then I attempted to eat some breakfast. After three bites of the bagel I had made, I gave up on eating it. I wasn't hungry. Besides, it was almost eight o'clock so I might as well leave a little early to stop and fill up my car, and maybe get some for my motorbike.
I pulled my leather jacket on and then grabbed my phone and keys, and heeded Reid's warning and put my gun on. I may not be going in the field, but there wasn't a rule against having a gun with me in the office so long as it was holstered, and had the safety on. I scooped up my bag and Reid's and fed Mrs. Mulcahy's cats on the way out. She was due back in a day or two anyways, I think.
I vaguely wondered how she'd feel about me getting a dog as I went to my car, but I forgot about it as soon as I was in traffic. Traffic was probably my least favorite thing about living in DC, aside from the politics, of course.
I walked into the bullpen, following Reid to his desk because he'd stepped out of the break room right in front of me.
Seconds after he'd sat down in his chair, I dropped his bag in his lap, causing him to almost spill the steaming mug of coffee he held in his hands, remarking,"You left this at my place."
Garcia stopped short in the walkway, a stack of files in one arm and her characteristic pink octopus mug in her other hand. Her eyes were as wide as her red-lipsticked mouth as she stared at the two of us, frozen.
So much for convincing her there wasn't something going on between us.
"He forgot some case files here last night so I took them home with me and he picked them up but left his bag at my apartment," I quickly gave a bogus explanation. I was pretty sure she knew I had left after Reid last night so that was the only scenario that fit.
Sadly, from the expression on her face, I knew she wasn't buying it. Garcia was the BAU's gossip and rumor queen, and she would turn anything she could into a tasty tidbit of false information.
"Yeah, yeah, that's exactly what I thought when you said he left his bag at your place," she rushed. She may be a profiler by association, but that still doesn't mean she knew how to tell a convincing lie.
Though considering the circumstances, evidently I didn't either since Reid didn't believe me about the stalker thing, and Garcia was adamant that Reid and I were madly in love with each other.