Heurism | Spencer Reid¹

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE: PROFILER, PROFILED

 "All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets."

     — Cory Doctorow.

—

I peer around my computer for the third time this morning, watching curiously as Reid displays some magic tricks. JJ and Garcia stand either side of his chair. The three seem to be waiting for something, though I can't tell what. "Nothing's happening," the former sighs.

He lets out a squeak of excitement. "Shh. Watch."

Sitting up, I notice his intense concentration, the way his hands are poised in front of him as though waiting to catch something. A sharp fizzing can be heard, then a whoosh as something small and black shoots up into the air. It arcs down, bouncing off of Prentiss's head right as she comes through the door. "Ow! What the—"

His eyes widen in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Emily."

"What was that?"

Garcia stifles a giggle behind her hand. "Don't you recognise a rocket when you see one?"

"I was merely demonstrating a physics law. I— I— I didn't mean to hit—"

"Oh, show me."

Smirking, I take the opportunity to approach. He falters a little when he sees me. The tip of his nose turns bright pink and he begins to fumble with what looks like a tiny pot of some kind, barely bigger than his thumbnail. "All right. T-Turn around, please."

"Seriously?" I groan.

JJ rolls her eyes. "Yeah, he's not gonna show you how it's done."

"A magician doesn't reveal his secrets."

At that, Prentiss arches a brow. "I thought you said it was physics."

"Physics magic."

Patting her on the back, I send her a wink as I turn around. "Sounds less nerdy this way."

Garcia nods in agreement. "Trust me, it will not do you any good to argue with him."

So we all turn and wait. I hear a soft crumbling, like that of a pill being crushed, and then another fizz. "All right. All right. Turn back and observe." I lean a hand against the desk, watching over his shoulder as froth bubbles around the lid of the upturned container. It fires into the air again with a sudden spray, eliciting yelps of surprise. The container lands on the floor. Right at Hotch's feet. He picks it up, looking sternly at us.

I bite my lips, awaiting his response. "Physics magic?" he sighs.

"Yes, sir." The others turn quickly, pretending to look busy.

"Reid, we talked about this." He places the container back in front of him, pausing. "You're starting to get some distance on those." I catch a glimpse of the slight smile on his face as he walks off.

Once certain that he's gone, Prentiss returns. "So he does have a sense of humour?"

"Sometimes."

I shrug. "Guy's a mystery. When I first came here, he stalled for these comedians. Came back to find my desk and everything on it gift-wrapped."

A snort of laughter escapes her. Then, looking around, she frowns a little. "Hey, where's Morgan?"

"Chicago," Reid replies. "He goes there every year for his mother's birthday."

—

"This paperwork is kicking my ass," I groan, leaning back in my chair, head tipping back. Another day has passed and I'm in the office again. Still no cases.