ONESHOTS ⊳ gavin reed x reader

[Remedy]

Requested by @sourpinkbitch. I hope I did sick!Gavin some justice with this onehshot.

In which your workmate and frenemy Gavin Reed falls sick and drives the entire precinct crazy with his self-destructive tendencies. You decide to take one for the team and drive him home.

Gavin Reed wasn't the kind of person to back down. He was always ruthlessly ambitious, eager to speak his mind (call it impertinence, if you will) and, of course, what most would call a workaholic. This man loved challenges, hell, maybe even lived for them, but this was getting out of hand.

Gavin Reed sniffling in front of his terminal, unreasonable amounts of tissues scattered all over his desk, the skin below his nose irritated, eyes droopy. And he was still working.

And yes, maybe you (kind of) hated him, but watching him work himself to death was getting quite ridiculous. Aside from the nerve-wracking, continuous coughs and sniffles.

So you told yourself you were doing it not for him, nor yourself, but for everyone. You told yourself that standing up and walking over to his desk was something similar to...taking one for the team?

"Reed, pack your things."

"Not in the mood, (l/n)." He responded, his eyes not moving from the flickering screen of his terminal, not even for a second.

"Great, neither am I." You said firmly, then walked around his desk, pulling his wheelie chair away from it, in spite of Gavin's clear protests and attempts of holding onto the table.

"The fhck are you doing? I've got things to take care o-"

"Shut your mouth, Gavin." You almost spat out his first name, which was enough to silence him for a few seconds. You used that to your advantage and turned off the terminal. "You've been driving the entire precinct crazy for the entire morning, so, for the love of God, just go home!"

"Make me!" So that was how he wanted to play?

"I will."

And you did. You were a woman of your word, after all.

Only minutes later, you had dragged the Detective inside your car (with the generous help of Lieutenant Anderson and even Captain Fowler himself), and seated him on the passenger's seat.

Though he didn't seem to be having any of it, arms crossed over his chest as he purposefully avoided your gaze, focused on the parking lot outside, apparently. You could swear he'd been pouting for a few seconds.

"So, now what, smartass?" He barked, voice hoarse, and unusually deep. You had to admit he sounded different, though not exactly bad.

And he had a point. Now what? You had gotten him out of the precinct, so that was out of the way. But alas, you hadn't exactly planned anything after that. But hey, improvising was always an option.

"I'm taking you home."

"Oh, you're starting a fucking cab business? Great, can I suggest some names? How about "(y/n) drives" or "(y/n) thinks of herself more highly if she takes her sick workmate home". That too long for you? Let's just shorten it down to "(y/n) fucks with your working schedule"!" Gavin ranted, voice dripping with nothing but raw sarcasm. He still avoided your gaze as his brows furrowed and he sank down in the seat.

"I'm being nice, so shut up before I strangle you with your seatbelt."

"Oh, how kind! She takes me home, and then strangles me with a seatbel—" A bone-rattling cough interrupted the man's sentence, his entire body shaking at the force of it.

You could only pat his back, the space between his shoulder blades, in a hopeless attempt to help ease the process. As soon as Gavin calmed down a bit, you took out your phone and opened your gps app, handing it to him.