mariambest

Fandom: LifeTitle: giving liberates our soulsCharacters: Charlie and ReeseRating: KDisclaimer: Neither Life nor its characters belong to me.Charlie stared at the box on his desk. It was wrapped in silver, sparkly paper and tied with light blue ribbon. He picked it up gently and examined the box.Charlie was startled out of his contemplation by Reese, who perched on his desk, "Open it, Crews. Or are you worried the cat is dead?""No," said Charlie, as he untied the ribbon and slipped the paper off the box, "The cat is either dead or alive already, no matter what Schrdinger thought.""It's a glass pomegranate," said Charlie, though it was more question than statement."It's for your tree," explained Dani. "Ted said you guys were putting up a tree for Christmas. You like fruit. I thought it was appropriate."Charlie smiled, "In giving, we liberate our souls." He stood, and then hugged her, "Thank you."Dani didn't try to pull away. Instead, she smiled and said, "You're welcome."

Fandom: Criminal MindsTitle: so long as we are dirty, we are pureCharacters: Aaron HotchnerRating: KNotes: justnukeit provided all the football factsDisclaimer: None of these characters nor their show belongs to me."Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure." Charles Dudley WarnerIf he had been wearing tennis shoes, he might have been all right, but Aaron Hotchner wore suits to work, and dress shoes to match. Most days, this was a perfectly acceptable wardrobe choice. He looked professional, in charge, a stereotypical FBI Agent. Except today, his work had brought him to a muddy patch of woods in northern Wisconsin chasing after eighteen-year-old running back, Damon Holt. He'd slipped more then once, mud covered both shoes and the entire back of his body. The suit was ruined.He slid into the clearing, knee buckling, just in time to see Morgan execute a perfect flying tackle and take down the unsub. This was good because Hotch was not getting up for a while. Prentiss and Reid trained their guns on the muddy pile of federal agent and suspect, as Rossi bent down to cuff the unsub. The cuffs went on, but Rossi went down, slipping in the mud. Thankfully, the local PD had shown up, detangled the unsub from the muddy agents, and hauled him off.Prentiss was the first to notice that Hotch was down and was not getting up, and moved to help him up. Morgan moved in to help and between the two of them, they managed to get Hotch upright."You have mud in your hair," said Prentiss, who also had managed to get mud in her hair at some point during the chase.Hotch looked down at his muddy suit and ruined shoes, "I think my dignity is back in the mud somewhere," he said with a wry grin, leaning on Morgan."Think you can make it back to the road?" asked Rossi, as he cam over to support Hotch's other side, "Or we can get the paramedics to carry you out."Hotch groaned, "I think I'll try hobbling out. I don't need a gurney."It was slow going. Reid and Prentiss walked in front, trying to identify any potential obstacles."Nothing else, that boy must have been a great football player on a wet field," commented Rossi."He had 3,326 rushing yards this year, 4.57 second 40 yard dash," interjected Reid, "He was supposed to be going to the University of Michigan next year. As I understand, that's good."Morgan laughed, "That's really good, kid. If he hadn't been murdering girls, he'd be in the running for a Heisman in the next few years."By the time they made it to the dirt road the ambulances were parked on, Hotch was pale, but still talking. "No more football player or track and field stars. My knees can't take too much of this," said Hotch as the EMTs slit his pant leg. His knee was slowly turning purple and swelling into an ugly knot."We're going to take you to the hospital, sir," explained the paramedic, "It doesn't look broken, but they'll want to take some x-rays.""Fine," said Hotch and then sent his team off to shower and then regroup at police head quarters.As the ambulance doors closed on him, Hotch could be heard to say, "They'll let me take a shower, right?"

Fandom: Criminal MindTitle: Childish ThingsCharacters: Spencer ReidRating: PGPrompt: 23. VicariousWord Count: 949 wordsSpoilers: set post Ashes and Dust, mention of Revelation, no real spoilersWarnings: mention of suicideDisclaimer: Not mine, never will be.Gideon found Reid sitting on the swings, slowly spinning about, his messenger bad flung at the foot of one metal pole. The low metallic noise of the chains twirling around each other would normally bother Gideon, but today he was focused on his youngest agent. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, Reid looked like he wouldve been carded trying to buy a lotto ticket. Garcia told me where to find you, said Gideon, knowing Reid had been aware of his presence since before hed stepped out of the car.Reid didnt look up, instead staring at the spirals his feet had left in the gravel. Sometimes, I think Garcia is the one who knows everything.Gideon didnt comment, just sat on the swing next to Reid. It had been a long time since hed been on a playground with no dead children in sight.Child prodigies burnout, you know, continued Reid, watching the swings chain slowly wind around one another.Not always, replied Gideon.Reid picked his feet off the ground, letting the swing twirl him in its dizzying spiral. Youre right. Less then thirty studies have been done concerning child prodigies, but some times you have to take anecdotal evidence into account.Gideon stared out at the empty play structure. It was a wooden tower festooned with the garishly bright colors of childhood. There were no children playing, the sun just barely slipping below the horizon, and the emptiness of the place put him on edge.Dr. Thomas, my physics chair, he still thinks I made a mistake coming out here, getting that last Ph. D., playing with the FBI. He emailed me yesterday, offered me a job at the lab, if I wanted it.Gideon did not let the growl escape from his throat, instead grabbing the chains of his swing harder. His instincts said protect, but sometimes it was better to wait, to hear the whole story before storming the castle.I didnt take him up on it. I thought about it. Thought about a career where you never have to kill anyone, never have anyone pull a gun on you. And its not like I wouldnt be making a difference. Some of the most complex physics goes through Dr. Thomas lab, this time Reid looked at Gideon, slowly tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.Gideon mind goes immediately to that half dug grave of damp mud. Tried not to think of what could have been.When I was at UNLV, I worked in that lab. It was my first Ph. D. and I was only fifteen when I started. Most professors wouldnt even consider being my advisor. Who wants a fifteen year old genius in their lab, breaking things and being a teenager? Reid looked down at his hands. I was never the most graceful child. Its one of the reasons I learned all those magic tricks. Reid twisted the watch on his wrist around in a circle, once, twice and then fiddles with the clasp.Children, says Gideon in the voice of a knowing father, need time to grow into themselves. We all broke things.The only reason Dr. Thomas took me in was Cameron Patel. He was seventeen and was in the masters program, and somehow Dr. Thomas had gotten roped into being his advisor the year before. So, he took me too. Made Cameron my buddy, my big brother and then pretty much let us run wild. Reid allowed the swing to straighten out, and planted his feet back into the gravel. A slow smile spread across his face, Im not saying we didnt study hard, but even the most mature teenagers could get in trouble unsupervised on a college campus. Having an accomplice just made it easier to hide the evidence.Reid continued, Dr. Thomas, he didnt just email me because of the job. The job used to be Camerons. Now Camerons dead.Gideon waited. When Reid offered no further information, he asked, Suicide?Reid merely nodded before letting the chain of his swing twist together once again, metal cold on his forearms. Terman found the highly gifted children committed suicide three times more often than the average person, but several studies done more recently contradict that finding. He hung himself in the lab, one of the undergrads found him.Gideon watched as Reid spun. The bruises were gone from his too skinny wrist, and the track marks had vanished even before that. The t-shirt was new though, Gideon hadnt seen him out of long sleeves since the hospital.You really didnt have to come out here, said Reid.I know, replied Gideon. I did anyway. Though you might not want to mention that to Garcia. I think she thinks were out here solving some vast conspiracy or maybe just fighting super villains. She said something about you being her favorite Robin, Gideon trailed off.Wait, Garcias favorite Robin is Stephanie Brown. Shes a girl and shes dead! If Im going to be Robin, I think Id like to survive the adventure.Gideon couldnt help it, his eye snapped straight to Reids face.Look, said Reid, and then paused for a moment, I do plan to survive the adventure, you know.Before Gideon could really process what had happened, Reid grabbed his messenger bag from the foot of the swingset. He handed Gideon two full medicine bottles filled with clear liquid. Gideon looked down at the bottles. He had, of course, known that Reid had them, had been the one at the hospital who had made sure that theyd made their way back to Reid. Gideon looked back up.I dont need them anymore, was Reids only comment.