Title: Socks
By: LoraLee2
Pairing: mostly gen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers, I do not own any CM characters, I'm just borrowing them and will return them in the same condition as I found them.
Summary: Challenge fic explaining how Reid wound up on crutches.

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It had really seemed like an excellent idea, even Hotch had thought so. When the local authorities had explained that the victim's small black cat (with four white paws) would be brought to the local animal shelter – which they also said was horribly overcrowded – Reid had been unable to bear to let it happen. So, Socrates (a/k/a Socks to the rest of the team) had flown back from Los Angeles with them and was now happily ensconced in Reid's apartment.

Garcia had brought over a six-foot cat tree, one that actually looked like a real tree with carpet-covered platforms. Morgan had supplied a covered litter box, what looked like a year's supply of food and one of those autofeeding and watering things. JJ and Emily had brought over a basket filled with various cat toys. Rossi had gone practical and arranged to get Socks into his vet and paid for her to be spayed, and the name and number of a reliable pet-care service he used when they were out of town.

Oddly enough it was Hotch's contribution that had caused his injury. It was a simple toy, designed to keep the small animal entertained during the daytime, a six-inch round ball with colored bells inside. A small six-inch ball that he hadn't seen when he walked into his apartment after the hellacious case in Canada.

So, it turned out that black cats really were lucky for their owners (and their owners families). After all, if he hadn't dislocated his knee tripping on the toy, he wouldn't have called Morgan to take him to the hospital, Morgan wouldn't have called Hotch on his way over and not gotten an answer. Morgan wouldn't have then called Rossi to check on Hotch. Rossi wouldn't have gone to Hotch's new apartment on his way home to check on Hotch. Rossi wouldn't have heard the gunshot as he approached Hotch's front door. And Rossi wouldn't have busted down Hotch's door, shot the Reaper, called an ambulance, administered first aid and saved Hotch's life.

Reid laid his crutches on the floor next to the couch and pulled the small animal into his lap. "Thank you, Socrates."

Author's note: I have a summer challenge (first brought up by the lovely BABruin of DiscusstheGube).

I challenge all writers and nonwriters to create a fic explaining how Reid wound up on crutches.

Did he trip over his cat? Did an UnSub shove him down a stairwell? Evidence of why the team never lets him drive?

It can be as long or short as you desire, from a few words to a full multichapter work of art. They can be posted anywhere on the Net, LJ, here, any site you choose.

Then, spread the fun: Copy this challenge at the bottom of your fic and let's see if we can cause a fanfic explosion.

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