The month of January is unending. The profilers are gone by the time I return to work which leaves me with lots of time to race through UCR and NCVS data. Unfortunately, Caro thinks this gives her license to text me during the workday, whenever she can. I don't understand how she is an early childhood educator and manages to text while working, but she finds a way.

It's all Stéphane's fault. He's agreed to take Mylène as a date to the wedding if he cannot find a date by Valentine's Day. Now the pressure on me and Bastien is too acquiesce to her demands. Bastien tells me he's ignoring Stéphane. I am not so forceful. On the ride up the elevator one morning, I'm on the phone with him, dodging calls from Caro.

"Look at it from her perspective," Stéphane says. "She's marrying into a very traditional family. Her mother isn't going to be at the wedding, her bisexual brother is threatening to bring two men as dates to piss off Cletus, and Cletus' parents already are angry that she's not moving to Texas to become his stay-at-home wife. The least we can do as the older siblings is respect her wishes, even if we think they are silly."

"I think it's a ploy," I wish Stéphane could see me rolling my eyes. "I think she wants her kids to have cousins and is trying to get us to make a move on it."

"Would it kill you to be nice to your sister on her wedding day?" Stéphane asks.

"If she intends on following through on her threat of pairing me up with Cletus' best man, maybe."

Stéphane scoffs into the phone.

"You know, if you complain about having to bring a date, she's going to think you're really mad about the date of the wedding itself," Stéphane points out. "Listen, I'm walking her down the aisle and Bastien's doing the father-daughter dance with her. All you have to do is say a little speech about how much you love her and bring a date."

"I'm not going to argue with you at this hour," I tell him. The elevator doors ding open. "I'll call you later."

It's just my luck that when I hang up, a minute late to work, everyone is here. I didn't know their flight had landed last night. Morgan sits at his spot in the bullpen, the desk across from mine, and he waves at me.

"I didn't realize that when we left, you decided to slack off," he grins.

I glower at him, sitting down at my desk. The spot across from me is empty. Reid's not here. His coat isn't here either, which is odd since it's practically a blizzard outside. I boot up my computer and flick through the calendar on my desk. With a pen, I point toward Reid's chair.

"Sick?" I ask.

"He's running late," JJ says down the row. "Something about his apartment?"

"At least I'll get some work done," I manage.

"Maybe not. I hear my good looks are distracting," Morgan laughs.

I flip him my middle finger as I start to log in. Two-factor authentication. Booting up the computer. A new year, same login difficulties, same coworkers, same everything. The desk opposite me is empty though, which is new.

We haven't spoken since New Year's Eve. It feels strange that I've actually been thinking about that. Reid and I don't communicate outside of work. He doesn't have my phone number, even. Actually, I'm only tangentially aware that he has a work phone, even though he is technophobic.

The two-factor authentication times out. I try not to groan.

Thirty minutes into the work day, Reid comes in to join us. He struggles into the bullpen, carrying two big duffle bags by his side, neither of which are his go bag. His big heavy rain boots don't seem to help. Finally, he gets to his desk and starts to throw the things down.

"Fashionably late, as always," Morgan chuckles.

Reid barely looks at him, "Morgan, I am not in the mood to hear you joke about my disastrous morning."

"At least you got to sleep in," Morgan grins.

Reid turns to glare, "while we were gone my apartment flooded."

"Oh, Reid," Prentiss offers from down the row.

JJ gets up, offering to make him coffee. She pats his shoulder once before heading toward the staff kitchen. He takes off his coat too, throwing it down on the chair. Reid starts to bend over, pulling off the rain boots, struggling to balance as he does.

"I got home last night and it was flooded," Reid points out. "I barely slept listening to the water dripping, and then at four I woke up when the water started dropping. The landlord came this morning to see it, and it's terrible. They need to rip up the carpet. It's going to take the whole weekend."

Moving around so much, I've dealt with my fair share of landlords. The current place seems okay for Estelle and me, but neither of us are home long enough to cause any real problems. Now, the flat with roaches in Melbourne, that was a horror story. I might even rather live in Québec than there again.

"Are they going to pay for a nice hotel, at least?" I ask, leaning forward. "It could be a staycation or something."

Morgan chuckles. Reid scowls at him. I glance around at them, "what?"

"Travel as much as we do, and see how much you want to spend a weekend in a hotel in your own city," Morgan laughs.

"Forgive me for being polite to Reid," I roll my eyes. "I'll remember to turn up the sarcasm next time."

I roll my eyes, getting back to work while I hear Reid share the details. I'm busy with work. They should be too, since they just got back from Connecticut. It seems to be bad though. The flood was caused by a broken dishwasher upstairs. Reid's couches are going to need to be replaced, and the pillows. The books too. He doesn't need books since he has such a good memory, but he seems sad about it. I mean, I don't really have valuables I bring around with me anymore, and it's hard to imagine why a guy with an eidetic memory would be sad about replaceable books.

JJ comes back with coffee for Reid. I open a drawer to grab some eye drops when I hear Morgan's voice loudly.

"No," Morgan points out. "No way."

"Well, JJ's going out of town and-"

"Absolutely not," Morgan says.

Reid sighs, "you've got four properties."

"I don't mix business and pleasure," Morgan points out. "Except for Garcia."

Prentiss gets up and slinks away from our desks, muttering something about needing the washroom. My excuse is gone then too. I'd rather not be caught in between their bickering. Also, from the sounds of it, I'm guessing Reid is looking for somewhere else to stay. Really, I can't let it be on me.

"It'll be fine, Reid," JJ offers, sitting down in her own chair. "You could even go out of town, try an actual vacation."

People seem to let it go after that. At least, though Reid is soggy and clearly annoyed, we can get back to our paperwork. It's unending, the paperwork. The only break I take is too massage my temples. Over lunch, I eat my soup at my desk, and I have to reheat it halfway through because I'm so focused on the new analytics that the soup goes cold before I've taken more than three sips of it.

My knuckles start to hurt. I finally put the computer down when I can feel them tightening. These years of working at computers are going to get the best of me. I truly cannot afford to have carpel tunnel. I open my drawer to grab the eye drops. My eyes are sore.

"You done?" Reid asks.

I look up at him, past the computer. He's sitting at his desk, drinking from a mug. I look over. The others in the team are all gone. I think, some time ago, they said goodbye and I must have responded. I lean forward, touching my temples again.

"Sorry," I tell him. "I just got distracted. The NCVS and UCR don't measure rates of crime but the same metric, and so I was doing a lot of backdigging. Also, I'm trading emails with ViCAP begging them to send out a new definition of forcible rape, since I can't get any statistics on male victims."

The clock on the wall reveals its an hour past the time we are allowed to go home. I look at Reid, across from me, a bit of a smile on his lips.

"You think it's funny?" I ask. "It's serious."

"Not that," Reid shakes his head. "Just... it's nice, I think. I admire your sense of determination. Also, Morgan used to complain about that, before we brought you in specifically for specifics. There aren't many things that get him as mad as NCVS."

I close my eyes slowly, blinking. No one will be responding to the email I just sent any time soon. There is more time to do the data. Reid's right though. I'm having trouble putting it away. Fingers aching, I still can't manage to turn off my computer.

"Maybe having you at one of his properties is his idea of a nightmare," I laugh.

Reid huffs, "yeah. I hopefully will be able to go back to my apartment on Monday."

I look out the large windows at the back of the office. Already, it's getting dark. Such is the life of Washington DC in January. I should keep working. Usually, I have no trouble staying on task and doing what I'm supposed to do.

"Estelle is out of town this weekend," I offer, closing the drawer with my eyedrops in it. I look down at the metal handle, feeling how cold it is between my fingers. "She wouldn't have a problem with you spending the night in her room."

"I..." Reid trails off. I don't look at him. "You don't have to do that. I'll be fine in the hotel. Morgan was just making things dramatic."

"No," I force myself to shut down the computer against my better judgement. The sound it makes, the electronic ding and the stop of its whirl makes the room so silent between my words. "Reid, it's fine. I insist, actually."

When I stand up, I glance at him in his chair. Rarely is he shorter than me. Now, he glances up at me, jaw agape, eyes wide. His Adam's apple seems to tremble as he swallows.

"Okay."

~~~~~

Eek this is super super late but it's fine. From now on, I'll be on time. Enjoy!