"Oh, where are they?" Emily growls, sifting through the mess stacks of paper on her desk. She may be proficient but organized she is not.
Morgan watches as the brunette upturns her handbag, listening to each thunk, rattle and flutter as keys, make-up and paper fell from it's depths. His jaw drops as he realizes exactly how much Emily's bag held.
"What exactly are you looking for, Emily?" Rossi finally asks, joining Morgan.
"My pastilles," comes the muffled reply. She has abandoned her bag and is now rifling through her desk drawers. Rossi raises an eyebrow at the other man, who shrugs.
"She's been like this since I got here this morning," Morgan whispers.
"Argh!" Emily growls, slamming her drawers shut. She drops her head into her hands then slumps onto the desk. After a moment, she lifts her head and looks over to the two men on the other side of the bull pen.
"Rossi," she says sweetly.
"Uh oh," Morgan mutters.
"You wouldn't just happen to have any fruit pastilles, would you?"
"Uh..." Rossi hesitates. "No, sorry, Emily." She shoots the Italian profiler a glare with enough heat to burn a hole in his freshly pressed suit jacket.
"Fine," she pouts, turning her back on the men again. Biting her lower lip, she stares back at her mess of a desk, as if willing a pack of pastilles to magically appear.
Emily stiffens, head half-cocked as she listens to a noise behind her. She whirls around so fast, both Rossi and Morgan feel dizzy merely watching her. Her eyes narrows as her gaze falls upon the boy genius standing in the doorway.
"What?" he asks, oblivious to the situation. Emily doesn't answer, instead continued staring at the package in Reid's hands.
"Uh, guys?" He throws the other men a confused glance.
Emily stands up and begins advancing on the younger profiler. Reid shuffles backwards, intent on keeping distance between them until he is certain of what is going on.
"Reid," she says in a strained voice. "Where did you get those pastilles?" Reid looks down at the package in his hands in surprise.
"Uh... I brought it. Why?"
"May I have some?" she asks, voice polite, still advancing. Reid upturns the pack.
"Sorry, Emily. They're all gone." He is apologetic. Emily's eyes narrow further. "And this was the last packet. Actually," he continues on, ignoring the warning looks from his male co-workers. "I had to search at least three of the vending machines downstairs to find this. Seems they're really popular this week. You know, ever since it was shown on Oprah as the 'wonder candy' it seems that people are snatching them up."
"I'm to believe that Reid deliberately walked through the bull-pen with an empty wrapper, knowing that Emily's radar was on high alert?" Rossi speaks in a stage whisper.
"If it wasn't deliberate, it makes much more paperwork to explain his sudden demise," Morgan whispers back.
"What are the odds of distracting Emily from Reid long enough to give him time to run away?"
"What makes you think that she won't go after us instead? The situation is fine as it is," Morgan mutters to Rossi.
Emily ignores the two men, instead focusing on the doctor before her.
"Uh, little help here please?" Reid calls, as he passes them, Emily hot on his heels.
"Nah, man, we're fine right here," Morgan replies.
"Yeah, seems like you've got it all under control," Rossi points out. The glass doors to the bull pen open to reveal bag-laden Garcia.
"Garcia, help," Reid cries, making another pass around the room. So far he had managed to escape Emily but he knew any longer and she'd catch him. Garcia raises her eyebrows at the men in the corner.
"Don't go looking at us, baby girl. Reid was the one who bought the last pack of fruit pastilles," Morgan informs her whilst Rossi nods affirmatively.
"And you didn't think to find some more?" They gulp guiltily as she fixes her gazes on them. "Here," Garcia thrusts something towards Morgan. "Give this to our princess." Morgan looks down at what he'd grabbed. It was a jumbo-sized package of fruit pastilles.
"Baby girl, why me?" he asks, staring at the tech analyst.
"Because I said so and because you're a big, strong man who can rescue Reid from Emily," she informs him.
"Do I have to? Our princess carries a really big gun and wears combat boots," he whines, almost childishly. "Send Rossi."
"Don't forget I can obliterate your entire existence with the touch of a button," she threatens. Morgan gulps again whilst Rossi snickers. Morgan shoots him a glare. "You too, buster." Garcia rounds on the other man. Rossi's face becomes contrite. At this, Morgan smirks.
"One click." Garcia's voice is all seriousness. Her warning finally hits home. They teased her princess. Now they would have to brave the monster she had become to lay a peace offering at her feet. She did her part; the guys are own their own.
"Fine," he mutters sullenly. She raises an eyebrow. "I'm going. I'm going."
He snatches the box from where he'd dropped and heads over to where Emily has the young doctor cornered.
"What?" she snaps, not tearing her gaze away from Reid.
"I have a present for you." She finally turns her attention to the dark-skinned profiler. "Here." He all but throws the package at her, then steps back rapidly, as if she'd turn on him next. Which, at the rate she was acting, he was damn close she hadn't already. It would have been comical, had Emily been on the outside of the situation. As it was, Morgan could hear stifled chuckles from behind him.
Emily's eyes light up as she realizes what she is holding. Popping one in her mouth, she moans in pleasure. Reid, realizing the emotional profiler's attention is diverted, takes off running in the opposite direction. Most likely to JJ's office, if Garcia knew the young doctor.
"Conference room in five," Hotch announces down to the group from the cat-walk. "Where's Reid?" he asks, noticing their resident genius was absent. The group cracks up laughing, save for Emily who's attention is still on the pastilles in her hand. Hotch shoots Morgan a look, who merely points at the preoccupied brunette.
Hotch shakes his head and smirks.
Never a dull moment at the BAU. He wouldn't have it any other way.