This show is totally my guilty pleasure. ^_^'' It's what I watch when I should be doing my thesis. In my brain Garcia is the middle sibling between Reid and Morgan, Prentiss is the older sister, JJ is the kickass aunt, Hotch is clearly the father, and Rossi is the vaguely creepy uncle.

~~~

"So, she was cute."

"Oh? Who? I didn't notice."

"Sure you didn't." Prentiss dropped a file on Reid's desk. In order to avoid having to look up and see her knowing smile, he flipped it open and scanned the pages quickly. Homicide reports for the third quarter in Cambridge, MA. Right, the Stowler case. 18, 23, 13, 52...two prime numbers, no common factors, sudden spike statistically significant according to a quick regression calculation--

"What's her name?"

"Martina Cruz. Wait, no, I-I-!"

"I knew it!" Prentiss slapped the desk with, Reid thought, unnecessarily triumphant exuberance. "How long have you been seeing her?"

"Reid has a girlfriend?! Ohmigod ohmigod what's her name?" At the excited cry that signaled Garcia's entrance into the office, Rossi's door cracked open slightly. Calculating eyes scanned the two women now hovering over Reid's desk, assessed the situation, and chose discretion as the better part of valor. The door clicked closed again.

"Garcia, while I'm flattered that you take such an interest in my personal life it's actually all just a big misunderst--"

"Her name's Martina Cruz! Can you search her?"

"--anding."

"Ooh, gimme just a second." There was the quick clacking of laptop keys and then a soft noise of satisfaction. "Got her. Oh, nicely done Boy Genius: she is smokin'. A law student at Georgetown, eh? I'd tap that."

"Aw, now, sweetheart, why you gotta say things like that? You know they make me jealous."

As Morgan added himself to the group of people clustered around the desk Reid couldn't suppress a groan of despair. "Don't you people have any work to do?"

"So who's this? You leaving me for this lady, baby girl?" Morgan leaned over Garcia's shoulder to scan the laptop screen.

"No, it's Reid's girlfriend!" Prentiss replied gleefully.

"My man!" Morgan's friendly clap on the shoulder almost knocked Reid out of his chair. "How long have you be holding out on us?"

"Martina and I have been friends for about three weeks. FRIENDS. In case you're unfamiliar with the term, it originates from the Old English freond, which is turn is from the Pre-Germanic--"

"But she's totally into you, right? Of course she is. I mean, you're an FBI agent, man. You gotta work that angle." Morgan winked so outrageously that Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Offer to show her your gun."

"I'm sure Spencer will be a perfect gentleman." JJ put in as she sailed past. Reid sighed.

"Et tu, JJ?"

"Conference room in five minutes, everyone." JJ and Hotch barely paused in their progress through the room, but their stride was more 'busy and productive' than 'urgent and you guys aren't gonna like this one', so no one really tensed up.

"Hotch, I think you need to give Reid the Talk. He's growing up so fast!"

"Only compared to some of us, Morgan, whose mental development and emotional maturity was apparently arrested somewhere around age five."

Hotch paused at the door to the office and raised an eyebrow back at the group of agents. "Kids, play nice. Don't make me turn this car around."

"Okay Ryan, remember what they taught you in class." Sharpay looked at her brother with a steely glint in her eyes, far more determined and - let's face it - far weirder than she'd ever looked.

"Voice projection? I can do a good battle cry if you need to."

"No," said Sharpay, trying not to sound condescending. "I'm talking about confidence. Walk tall. Stand up straight. You are not alone."

"W-what was that last one?"

"I said, you're not alone. I'm here, all right? To protect you."

Ryan stared at Sharpay blankly.

"I'm being nice to you, Ryan."

"I got that." Ryan rolled his eyes.

"Now take this stake," she said, "and don't be afraid."

"I-I won't." Ryan gulped. "I promise."

Haymitch lay on the cave floor, gasping, blood flowing freely from his head and left shoulder. His legs splayed out, twitching, feverish eyes flying blindly around.

"Water!" I called back, pressing the cloth to his wounds, avoiding his desperate arms. His hands were shaking, his body still clamoring for the alcohol we didn't have. The alcohol whose lack had made him fall.

"Katniss-" Finnick handed me the water, circling around to hold Haymitch down while I cleaned his wounds, blood staining my hands. Funny how that always seemed to happen.

"He needs his drink," Finnick said, holding the shaking hands tighter. "Or he'll die, wounds or no."

"Peeta!" I called into the cave, knowing that the cameras would see and hear me. "Peeta! Please!"

The seconds passed, and nothing came.

"Haymitch," I said fiercely, futilely trying to reach him, holding out the water. "Haymitch, drink this!" He grabbed at it frantically, obviously expecting something like white liquor, his shaking hands dropping the canteen as soon as the taste touched his mouth.

Something hit me then, hit my heart. I didn't want Haymitch to die like this; not just because he'd been my mentor (friend?) but because he didn't deserve to die in pain like this, weak with longing.

Suddenly his hands found me, and he whispered something like my name. I waved away Finnick's hands trying to keep him down.

"Peeta-" Haymitch gasped, and for a moment his eyes cast around wildly, as though looking for him. "Katniss, Peeta-"

"Peeta's safe," I said, watching again for anything that could help. "Finnick, check more toward the mouth of the cave!"

"Safe," Haymitch repeated, and for a moment he calmed. "Important."

"I know," I whispered, swallowing past a sudden lump in my throat. That was what mattered; Peeta was safe. Safe, and watching us fight to the death.

"Katniss!" I turned back, seeing Finnick running toward me, a few items in his hand- including alcohol.

I had no sooner grabbed it, when Haymitch's trembling hands found me again, pulling me roughly toward him. For a moment, his eyes were clear. "Don't let me win, Katniss." His words faded for a moment, then came back stronger. "Don't let me win."

His fingers slipped, and he fell back again, body continuing to shake. I tucked my hand under his head, opened the bottle with my teeth, and tipped the drink down his throat. I knew what he was asking of me.

"You won't win, Haymitch," I said softly, feeling Finnick's eyes watching with something like surprise.

"Peeta," he said again, and I nodded. "Peeta."

"Safe. Alive."

"Yes."

Haymitch's body began to calm, drifting off to sleep. His hand slid up to mine, holding my fingers briefly. "Live," he whispered, his voice barely a breath, before his hand fell, and his chest began to rise more evenly.

"Tick tock," Mags said quietly, kneeling beside Haymitch and touching his head. "Tick tock."


A/N: First time ever writing for the Hunger Games. Hope you enjoy! And great prompt. :D

aslkhetliytoiqygtlihglihtgalityoighylai I LOVE THIS PROMPT AND SECOND IT SO HARD. Whyyyyyyyyy didn't I think of it myself? *wails*