Reid’s and Ana’s reception took place at a more civilized venue than the glade where they’d exchanged vows.
The guests fit comfortably into Ana’s parents’ home. And Garcia always went a little mad when the subject was food. She’d assumed the duties of catering like an avenging force determined to balance the rustic setting of the ceremony with one of extreme opulence for the reception.
Hors d’oeuvres, petit fours, and a buffet that included everything from Beef Wellington to pigs-in-a-blanket to Chicken Kiev to a twenty-four-foot-long sandwich presided over the gathering. The three bridesmaids stood together and watched with feminine tolerance as the males in the group gathered around the more basic, less frilly fare. The sandwich was popular.
“Animals.” Prentiss sipped a flute of champagne as she passed judgment on what she considered ample evidence that men occupied a lower rung on the evolutionary ladder than those not inflicted with an overabundance of testosterone.
J.J. nodded and sighed. “I’m tellin’ you, ladies: women are cake and wine; men are stale bread and beer.”
Garcia tilted her head to one side, considering the division before the buffet that ran along gender lines. “Maybe it’s just that they’re utensil-challenged. Ever notice that men gravitate toward anything they can eat that doesn’t require silverware?”
“Hmmmmm. You may be on to something.”
Prentiss considered the possibility. “I do know several who can’t seem to get the hang of silverware even when it’s not optional.”
Talk ceased, but smiles widened as their Unit Chief approached, large slice of sandwich in hand.
“Sir, you look so…so…” Garcia groped for an appropriate adjective. “…so double-oh-sevenish!”
Hotch smiled around his mouthful of cheese and sliced meats. “I don’t know about that, but you guys look beautiful. Almost didn’t recognize you when you first came out with Ana.”
Prentiss reached over and brushed some crumbs from her boss’ lapel. “Thanks, Hotch. I gotta say, though, I’d recognize you anywhere.”
Hotch sensed some verbal sparring in the offing. Pitting himself against the alpha female of the team was something he rarely got to enjoy. But considering the social setting and non-business atmosphere, he let himself pursue whatever was lurking behind Prentiss’ mischievous grin.
“Because a suit’s a suit? Even if it’s a little fancier today?”
“Noooo. Not exactly.” She repeated the crumb-dusting on his other lapel. “Nope. It’s the eyes. Can’t hide the eyes. Dead giveaway. At least, that’s what Reid’s mom says.”
“What? What’d she say?” Hotch was keenly aware of Diana Reid’s dislike.
“Something about the history of wolves dressing up. You know: as sheep, or in a flannel nightie as some poor, unsuspecting, little girl’s granny. That kind of thing. Not fooling anyone, Hotch.”
“Hmmmmm.” He made a show of licking his chops, giving his sandwich a fond look. “Really great job on the spread, Garcia.” He cast a wistful look over his shoulder at the tables groaning under their delectable, edible burden. “Just one thing missing…”
The tech analyst’s eyes widened in concern. She thought she’d covered all her bases and provided something for everyone. “Wha…what? What’s missing, Sir?”
“Meat. Raw meat. Fresh kill. Three, little pigs. That kind of thing Nothing hits the spot after a wedding quite like meat…” With a sidelong glance, her boss bared his teeth, tore into his sandwich, and wandered away, trailing barely discernible growling noises in his wake.
While J.J. and Garcia tried to muffle their laughter, Prentiss watched Hotch retreat through half-lowered lids.
I wonder if there was any double entendre meant by ‘raw meat’ and post-wedding activities…like consummation?
When Hotch looked back and briefly caught her eye, he had a very small, very wicked grin.
Oh, yeah. He meant it. Good one, Hotch. Totally unexpected. You win this round.
xxxxxxx
Rossi and Morgan kept a sympathetic watch over the newlyweds.
Surrounded by well-wishers, buried beneath congratulations, Reid and Ana looked a bit overwhelmed. When the whites of Reid’s eyes began to show too much, his friends rescued him. Shouldering their way to the couple, Rossi extracted the groom from a group composed almost exclusively of Ana’s guests. Reid didn’t really have much more than his mother, his team, and a couple of his mother’s friends who knew her son mainly through the tales with which proud, doting Mrs. Reid regaled them. The young agent had chosen not to invite his father. He still held onto some resentment and anger left over from childhood when Mr. Reid had abandoned his ten-year-old, leaving him the sole caretaker of his mentally ill mother.
“Mind if we borrow your husband for a minute?” Morgan whispered close to Ana’s ear. She gave Reid an understanding look and nodded. After all, she knew these people better than he did. It was easier for her to engage in small talk with them. Morgan and Rossi pulled him free of the small crowd.
The three men retreated to a corner of the refreshment table that was relatively private.
“How ya doin’, kid?”
“I’m…I’m married. I did it. I can’t believe…wow.” He was unaware of the older agents smiling behind his back. They were genuinely happy for him, but it was fun to see their resident genius thrown off track and reduced to babbling. Especially when the catalyst was a joyous occasion. “I’m married. Rossi?” Reid turned to confront the oldest and most-married member of his team. “Am I doing everything I’m supposed to? I’m kind of out of it. Have I missed anything?”
Rossi grinned, knowing the questions were born of the exhaustion and emotional toll that weddings imposed upon the main two participants. “Right now, you’re supposed to enjoy your reception. Then, you go on your honeymoon. And then you make decisions about family.” He leaned over and kissed Reid’s forehead. “And then you live happily ever after.”
Spencer stared at him, and finally the shocked look waned, replaced by the kind of truly blissful smile that comes rarely in a lifetime. Morgan watched his friend look around, his eyes settling on Hotch who, sandwich in hand, was across the room talking to the bridesmaids. And he knew Reid was once again seeing their tough, alpha boss introducing them to his son, staring down at the tiny newborn in his hands. Scared and happy, and with the exact same grin on his face that now graced Reid’s.
But Rossi saw Reid’s joy diminish just a bit as he watched Hotch.
“What’s bothering you, Reid?”
“Nothing.”
Morgan’s and Rossi’s eyes met, each verifying the other’s impression that the groom was covering something up.
“There’s something you should know now that you’re married…” Rossi’s voice was serious, almost severe, demanding attention and a truthful response. “We’re not just random guests here, Reid. We’re the people you’ll turn to over the course of your marriage when you hit rough patches. And believe me…there will be rough patches. We’re the ones who know you best, who’ll help you the most.”
“Get used to it, Pretty Boy. We’re your family. So we’re gonna be all up in your business starting now. What’s on your mind?”
Reid blinked and came to the decision to talk. “It’s Hotch.”
“Hotch?” Rossi was genuinely puzzled. “What about him?”
Morgan frowned. “There was something while you guys were waiting for Ana to come down the aisle. He kind of wavered a little. Is that it?”
“Partly.” Reid was still watching the Unit Chief across the room. “I, uh…I kind of panicked. And I went into his mind…like I’m not supposed to. You know?”
Rossi knew all too well. The memory of Hotch’s life-threatening ordeal due to Reid’s mind-touch was still fresh. “Is he okay? Are you guys still wearing those bracelet things?”
Hearing the urgency in the older man’s questions made Reid feel even worse about his inadvertent invasion of Hotch’s psyche. “We took the bracelets off a couple weeks ago. I thought it was time.” Reid could still hear the warning’s from the elderly doctor who ran the hospital that had saved Hotch when his brain had become a receptacle for Reid’s mental leavings…the ghosts that the Palero priest, Julio Ruiz, had seen in him. Ruiz had used his own psychic powers to imbue bracelets with protection for Hotch and Reid; charms that would prevent any mental cross-over between the two agents. The Palero had also said that Reid would know when the time was right, when he could stop wearing the beaded amulet. So the young agent repeated, “I thought it was time.”
Morgan gripped Reid’s arm. “Is Hotch okay? Did it hurt him?”
“No. I think he’s fine. It was only for a second.” He looked down at the floor. “Ana was there. She made sure I left and Hotch was good.”
Once again, the older agents’ eyes connected over Reid’s bent head. They suspected they knew what was really bothering the groom. Rossi’s voice was gentle as he explored the possibility of jealousy having reared its head.
“And you don’t like that your fiancée and one of your best friends, not to mention your boss, have this connection.”
“My wife, Rossi. She’s my wife now.”
“And that makes it even worse.” Morgan sounded sad.
Reid looked up. When he saw understanding and sympathy in both their faces, he chewed on his lip for a moment, a sign the others knew signaled distress.
“We were about to get married and she was thinking about Hotch. She was checking on him.” Reid glanced across the room and saw Hotch leaving the trio of bridesmaids, a humorous glint in his eye as he tore at his sandwich. “Guys, I know Ana loves me and everything, but…look at him. And then look at the women in the room.”
Morgan and Rossi joined Reid in observing Hotch’s progress toward them. Away from his job, he was relaxed. The scowl that he usually wore as both shield and weapon was absent. He looked younger and more open, more approachable without it. Sure enough, when they glanced at the guests, nearly every pair of female eyes, and some of those belonging to males as well, tracked Hotch intermittently.
Rossi ran a hand over his beard. “You think Ana likes him?”
“No! No. Not like that. I mean, she likes him, sure. But only in a friendly way.” Reid studied his polished, black shoes, ashamed of admitting what he saw as a weakness in his own character. “It just bothers me that they’ve got something between them I can’t share. Ever. And he’s too damn good-looking. He’s the kind of guy who gets girls. I’m not.”
Morgan’s guffaw snapped Reid out of what might have been turning into self-pity. “Well, he didn’t get the girl this time, Pretty Boy, did he? Besides, Hotch isn’t a player. I guarantee you, he doesn’t know the ladies are watching him. And if he did, he wouldn’t do anything about it. He’s actually kinda shy. Kinda like you.” Morgan’s smile grew. “You two aren’t all that different. It’s just you got the brains…and he got the looks….In a more obvious sorta way….,” he hastened to temporize, knowing Reid’s peculiar appeal could be strong, yet different from Hotch’s.
Rossi placed a comforting hand on Reid’s shoulder. “Look, I’ll have a talk with him…”
“NO! Rossi! I don’t want him to know about this!”
“Reid, he’s a profiler. One of the best. He’ll figure it out sooner or later, because you won’t be able to hide how you feel. It’s only gonna get worse unless you do something about it. So…you talk to your wife about what bothers you, and I’ll talk to Hotch.”
Reid looked utterly miserable. The trepidation in his voice was unmistakable. “Rossi…guys…”
“Kid, the only thing that’ll upset Hotch is if he finds out he’s been doing something that hurts you, and you didn’t clue him in.”
xxxxxxx
From across the room, as he approached the male half of his team, Hotch could tell something was wrong. He found it disturbing. This was a happy occasion, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Except for that brief mental contact with Reid, that is. But he didn’t think any harm had been done. He felt fine.
I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.
As he neared the men who were watching him, he felt the comforting, warm, wordless touch that told him Ana was checking on him.
He saw the worried look on Reid’s face and frowned. Whatever was wrong, he’d do his best to remedy it. He wanted this to be as perfect a day as possible for the newlyweds.
As best man, he’d do whatever it took to make sure of it.