What Happens Next

XXIII. Grateful

"How about this one?" Reid asked, standing beside a wooden bunk bed that, at the tallest point of it's blue and orange dinosaur printed canopy, couldn't surpass his own height.

"How old do you think your kids are? Maeve is already too big for that bed, and Amelia is one growth spurt away from sticking her feet through that footboard. Try again," Emily responded, assessing the bed made for no one other than children between the ages of five and seven. 

Reid looked at the woman, stunned at her blatant hatred for the bed he chose. He quickly closed his mouth and patted the thin metal post supporting the top bunk, realizing that she was, in fact, right in writing off his choice so quickly. 

He stumbled after her, catching his black dress shoe on the once-clean sheet that had been laid across the bottom bunk. He stared at the blue cotton pool and imagined countless children swimming in it's confines, allowing their germs to procreate and scatter onto his shoes. He ripped his foot from its grasp, causing him to lurch forward, leaving him to flail his awkwardly long limbs in the air as he fought the gravitational pull toward the ground. 

He righted himself, and pulled the hem of his blue sweater into alignment. Emily turned around moments after he'd caught his composure, something she realized with disappointment. 

"You good?" She asked, hoping he would tell her what she missed.

"Yeah, why?" he responded, feigning obliviousness. 

"Damn," she breathed quickly, before looking him up and down and murmuring: "uh huh."

She turned around again, this time he followed easily, his feet finding the gray concrete floor instead of  rogue fabric germ pools. She directed him to a twin sized bunk bed, meant to hold children over the age of five. She noted the bold lettering on the tag indicating bed pieces could be purchased separately.

"Look. If you get this one they can have matching beds and you don't have to buy an extra top bunk. . ." she paused, "or, you could get two sets and then you can sleep in your own room."

"Yeah, he agreed," sizing up the taller, wooden bunk bed. 

Despite having zero intention of forcing his oldest child to sleep in a room with the girls, he purchased two sets of bunk beds, pleasing Emily greatly. She escorted him, and his beds home, helping him piece together four separate beds only to stack them on top of each other. 

"See, Easy!" Reid panted, releasing his end of the bed onto the dowels that would prevent it from slipping off the bottom bunk's posts. 

"Yeah, okay Reid," she responded, shaking out her over expended arm muscles, "Jesus, who knew two bunk beds could beat out two F.B.I. agents?"

"Former F.B.I. agents," the younger man corrected, unable to refrain from pointing out the error in her statement. 

"Just because I'm not out in the field doesn't mean I'm not an agent."

"My bad, Director Prentiss. Formerly fit F.B.I. agents."

"That's right," she nodded, a grin spreading across her lips, "now hurry up and make these beds before those kids come home to plain white mattresses!"

Reid stubbed backwards upon impact of the the thick plastic case which had been tossed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around it, steading himself as it's momentum stopped pushing him back. He glared at her while unzipping the bag, nonetheless thankful for her mirroring his actions with her own bag of sheets. They went with plain colors; baby blue, a blush colored pink, gray, and a lavender color that matched Amelia's bedsheets at her mother's.