Wildfire
Two Months Ago
”Morgan, could you please explain as to why you’ve dragged me here? Clubs are really not my thing,” Reid mumbled.
“I know, kid, but last time I checked, woman are. So, go. Flirt, mingle, buy some fine lady a drink. Just for the love of god do not bore them to death with facts and statistics.”
With that, Morgan gave him a slap on the back and sauntered off onto the dance floor, white teeth flashing against his dark skin. He met up with some scantily clad black woman under the strobe lights, but Reid turned away before he saw anymore.
He moved to the bar and pulled out a stool before plunking down. He felt odd in his jeans, black button down and Converse, feeling all at once overdressed and underdressed. His fingers folded in front of him on the mahogany bartop, brain occupied with all the paperwork he’d have to do in the morning. The most recent case had been tough, and he felt an ache somewhere in the vicinity of his heart and understood why Morgan had taken him out for the night. To help him forget the sight of a young kid dying in front of him, to forget the blood splattered on the walls.
His head dropped into his hands with a groan, fingers pushing back the wavy brown strands. Reid wanted to stop thinking about it, or anything for a while.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
He jerked up, eyes sliding to the seat to the right of his and nearly swallowed his tongue. The woman sitting there was gorgeous, and he felt well and truly stunned. Black hair curled around her shoulders and down her back, bangs partially hiding electric, icy blue eyes that contrasted to her olive skin tone. She smiled, pink lips stretching over perfectly straight, white teeth with a wicked gleam.
“Actually, screw that. You look like you could use several. Bartender!” she called, turning to the man currently pouring another drink. “Four shots of Jack Daniels, chilled, when you have a moment , please.”
“I don’t need a drink-”
“Nonsense,” she cut Reid off, waving a hand through the air. “Those puppy dog brown eyes of yours nearly had me crying in pity for you. Least you could do is let me buy you a drink.”
The shots of Jack were soon lined up on the bar, filled to the brim with the amber-colored liquor. Reid eyed them wearily, before bringing one closer with two fingers. He was about to sip it carefully but choked on the liquid when she downed her two shots in quick succession.
“I’m Jasmine, by the way,” she said after wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Now slam that thing!”
Reid was going to say no, push the drink away and leave the bar, but her blue eyes were watching him expectantly, waiting. Not questioning why he was doing it, he grabbed the small glass and poured it down his throat, sputtering once it was all gone. It burned and he started coughing at the uncomfortable feeling.
“There you go! Do the next, do the next,” she cheered, clapping happily.
The next shot went down smoother, but he was still coughing at the end. Jasmine smacked him on the back a few times but was still cheering.
“I take it you don’t drink much?” she laughed.
“No,” he coughed. “I don’t.”
“Time to change that, yeah? Bartender, four more!” She slapped a twenty onto the bar and turned back to him. “So, Mr. Alcoholically-Inexperienced, you got a name?”
“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he finally choked out. He almost never introduced himself that way, but found that he wanted to impress this brazen girl.
“A doctor, hmm? What kind, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I have Ph. Ds in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering, as well as undergraduate degrees in psychology, sociology and working on one in philosophy.”
“Holy shit, what the hell do you do with all those?”
“I work for the FBI.”
“Oh, yeah? Doing what? That sounds exciting. Kicking ass, taking names, and capturing bad guys?”
“Yeah, um, something like that. I can’t really talk about it though,” Reid replied awkwardly. “Classified information, and such.”
“Definitely capturing bad guys, then,” she smirked.
Just then the shots were placed down next to them, and after some cajoling from Jasmine, Reid took his two then watched amazed as she slammed hers down with ease.
“Come on, let’s go dance!”
Her smooth, warm hands captured his and yanked him off his stool and over to the dance floor. Morgan caught Reid’s eye with a smirk, before turning back to his current dance partner.
It was over an hour later when the pair stumbled back to the bar and downed a few more shots, and even later when they finally collapsed into the stools, breathing heavily. Jasmine was grinning madly, and Reid’s head was spinning so fast he could barely see in front of himself, let alone think straight.
With a sly tilt of her lips, Jasmine leaned forward, placed a hand on his thigh, put her lips to his ear and whispered come on, baby, why don’t we get out of here? He nodded his head fiercely, looking more like a bobble head than a man, and drunkenly followed her out of the bar.
Not for a second did Reid think that maybe she had things she wanted to forget too.
“I know, kid, but last time I checked, woman are. So, go. Flirt, mingle, buy some fine lady a drink. Just for the love of god do not bore them to death with facts and statistics.”
With that, Morgan gave him a slap on the back and sauntered off onto the dance floor, white teeth flashing against his dark skin. He met up with some scantily clad black woman under the strobe lights, but Reid turned away before he saw anymore.
He moved to the bar and pulled out a stool before plunking down. He felt odd in his jeans, black button down and Converse, feeling all at once overdressed and underdressed. His fingers folded in front of him on the mahogany bartop, brain occupied with all the paperwork he’d have to do in the morning. The most recent case had been tough, and he felt an ache somewhere in the vicinity of his heart and understood why Morgan had taken him out for the night. To help him forget the sight of a young kid dying in front of him, to forget the blood splattered on the walls.
His head dropped into his hands with a groan, fingers pushing back the wavy brown strands. Reid wanted to stop thinking about it, or anything for a while.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
He jerked up, eyes sliding to the seat to the right of his and nearly swallowed his tongue. The woman sitting there was gorgeous, and he felt well and truly stunned. Black hair curled around her shoulders and down her back, bangs partially hiding electric, icy blue eyes that contrasted to her olive skin tone. She smiled, pink lips stretching over perfectly straight, white teeth with a wicked gleam.
“Actually, screw that. You look like you could use several. Bartender!” she called, turning to the man currently pouring another drink. “Four shots of Jack Daniels, chilled, when you have a moment , please.”
“I don’t need a drink-”
“Nonsense,” she cut Reid off, waving a hand through the air. “Those puppy dog brown eyes of yours nearly had me crying in pity for you. Least you could do is let me buy you a drink.”
The shots of Jack were soon lined up on the bar, filled to the brim with the amber-colored liquor. Reid eyed them wearily, before bringing one closer with two fingers. He was about to sip it carefully but choked on the liquid when she downed her two shots in quick succession.
“I’m Jasmine, by the way,” she said after wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Now slam that thing!”
Reid was going to say no, push the drink away and leave the bar, but her blue eyes were watching him expectantly, waiting. Not questioning why he was doing it, he grabbed the small glass and poured it down his throat, sputtering once it was all gone. It burned and he started coughing at the uncomfortable feeling.
“There you go! Do the next, do the next,” she cheered, clapping happily.
The next shot went down smoother, but he was still coughing at the end. Jasmine smacked him on the back a few times but was still cheering.
“I take it you don’t drink much?” she laughed.
“No,” he coughed. “I don’t.”
“Time to change that, yeah? Bartender, four more!” She slapped a twenty onto the bar and turned back to him. “So, Mr. Alcoholically-Inexperienced, you got a name?”
“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he finally choked out. He almost never introduced himself that way, but found that he wanted to impress this brazen girl.
“A doctor, hmm? What kind, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I have Ph. Ds in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering, as well as undergraduate degrees in psychology, sociology and working on one in philosophy.”
“Holy shit, what the hell do you do with all those?”
“I work for the FBI.”
“Oh, yeah? Doing what? That sounds exciting. Kicking ass, taking names, and capturing bad guys?”
“Yeah, um, something like that. I can’t really talk about it though,” Reid replied awkwardly. “Classified information, and such.”
“Definitely capturing bad guys, then,” she smirked.
Just then the shots were placed down next to them, and after some cajoling from Jasmine, Reid took his two then watched amazed as she slammed hers down with ease.
“Come on, let’s go dance!”
Her smooth, warm hands captured his and yanked him off his stool and over to the dance floor. Morgan caught Reid’s eye with a smirk, before turning back to his current dance partner.
It was over an hour later when the pair stumbled back to the bar and downed a few more shots, and even later when they finally collapsed into the stools, breathing heavily. Jasmine was grinning madly, and Reid’s head was spinning so fast he could barely see in front of himself, let alone think straight.
With a sly tilt of her lips, Jasmine leaned forward, placed a hand on his thigh, put her lips to his ear and whispered come on, baby, why don’t we get out of here? He nodded his head fiercely, looking more like a bobble head than a man, and drunkenly followed her out of the bar.
Not for a second did Reid think that maybe she had things she wanted to forget too.
♠ ♠ ♠
I am so totally loving this right now. I just keep writing, haha.And I'm turning the idea of who Reid is upside down. Y'all gonna see a side of him you never have before. GET READY YO.
I already have another chapter written, so if I get a comment, maybe I'll post it after work tomorrow. Does anybody want this? Hahaha.
Comment. Subscribe. Recommend. Love CM.
-Beki