Title: Poetry In Motion
Author: wildwordwomyn
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 466
Rating: PG only for use of the word "procreate"
Disclaimers/Warnings: No spoilers. Not true in any way except in my own twisted imagination. Another short but sweet one. Schmoop, a tiny bit of angst, and more romance for the pre-slashy Morgan/Reid duo.
Author’s Notes: I'm fascinated by hands. What else can I say?
Summary: It all starts with hands.

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Hands. It all starts with hands. Dr. Spencer Reid's hands to be specific. Because watching them move is like watching poetry in motion. Or birds in flight. Or the ocean...Okay, so you're not too great with metaphors. But you still can't stop watching his hands. Delicate. Translucent. Your mama, the first time she met him, said he had piano-playing hands. And before that throw-away comment you hadn't thought too much about them. Now they're all you think about. And you wonder, more than anything, what they would look like spread out on your skin, fingers searching, sailing along the ridges and valleys of your own body. Would they feel as soft and silky as they seem?

You've touched him before on occasion. Because you had to. But you want to as well. God, do you want to...

"They're a work of art, aren't they?" Garcia asks softly. She's slipped up beside you at your desk with a large mug of coffee in hand. You duck your head, hoping you were able to smother the hunger quickly enough.

"What?" You're trying for innocent. Unfortunately she is the one person, besides your mother, that you can't lie to successfully.

"His hands. That's what you were just staring at, right?" You shrug though you know keeping up the charade is useless. "Derek, my fine chocolate drop, I can see right through you. And you," she says, pointing a finger at your chest, "have been watching the good doctor's hands for a while now."

What are you supposed to say now? There's no point in denying it. Garcia's as good at reading people as any profiler, including you.

"Baby girl-."

"Don't 'baby girl' me," she interrupts. "Just ask him out and get those hands where you really want them. Then call and tell me all about it, okay?"

You grin and shake your head. The girl is crazy. But she's also got a good idea. "Fine. But if he says no..." Your grin falls. What if he does say no?

"I don't think you have to worry about that." When she grins you feel set up. Like maybe you should be the one saying no. You don't. Instead you take a deep breath. "You'll be fine, Derek. You're beautiful, strong, good, sexy. Did I mention beautiful?" You chuckle at her much needed levity. "Now go forth, young man. Procreate and make me proud."

When she pushes gently at your back you chuckle. The insane image of a pregnant, fact-spouting, hormonal Spencer Reid is just what you need to give you confidence. Knowing that Garcia would never let you live it down if you backed out of this adds even more incentive. The girl can be ruthless when she doesn't get her way. And hell, maybe you actually have a chance...

The End

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