Pretty Boy | By : Wagamama_hime Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 4813 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. It is the sole intellectual property of the CBS Corporation. This is a work of fiction and I am making no profit from its publication. |
Chapter Eight
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. It is the sole property of the CBS Corporation. This work of fiction has been created purely for entertainment purposes and I am profiting in no way.
A/N: Thanks for all your reviews and being so patient with me :). Special thanks, as always to my beta-reader Eskimita.
Anywho, I'm going to jump right into it: when we last left off, Spencer spent the day with J.J. & Emily as his bodyguards and love coaches; with the help of Garcia the team realized that the Unsub may have been involved with more murders than they originally thought; and Derek unwittingly had a run-in with someone from Spencer's past. Now, we pick up with Derek on his way to change his shift and take Spencer to work. Drama shall ensue (of course ;p). I think (hope?) you guys will like the developments in this chapter. Let's have at it!
xoxo
It was a few minutes past 3:30 when Derek pulled up outside of Spencer's apartment. It had been a long day, and while he was satisfied that they were following all the right leads, he didn't feel like they were any closer to catching the Unsub. Stone's description of the Unsub as a ghost had been dead-on. Garcia had postulated that it would be difficult to track someone who had no criminal record, especially if the person ran in the upper echelons of society, as they were predicting their Unsub did. It was more apparent than ever that privilege could buy you a lot of protection.
Derek shook his head and turned the car off. He would be happy once this guy—whoever he was—was sitting behind bars. As he exited his vehicle, he signaled to the officer sitting watch. He decided he liked this replacement much better. So far, no one had been able to get past the guy, and Derek believed they could rely on him. Making his way into the building, Derek lightly jogged up the stairs. He felt somewhat excited to see Spencer. After all the stress of the day, the idea of seeing the spirited youth, who he had grown more than just a little fond of, was somewhat comforting.
Knocking lightly on the door, Derek waited as he heard shuffling inside and the sound of the door unlocking.
"Hey, Morgan," Emily said with a smile as she opened the door and stepped back.
"Is the kid ready?" Derek asked, looking around. His eyes landed on J.J., who was sitting on the couch tucking files back into the large box in front of her. She looked up at him and smiled. Spencer was nowhere to be seen.
"Spencer's been… taking a little break. He's been in his room for the last few hours. We checked on him a couple of times and he seems to just be reading, but, I think he was pretty upset after the Unsub's call earlier today. So I think the alone time is giving him a chance to decompress," Emily explained.
Derek walked further into the living room and leaned against the couch.
"Yea, I heard about that. I feel bad that the kid's had all this dumped on him all of a sudden," Derek said with a sigh.
"We tried to talk him out of going to work today, but he kind of blew up on us," J.J. admitted.
"Well… I could've told you that was going to happen," Derek said with a slight chuckle.
He also would have preferred Spencer not going to the club tonight. Now that he knew what really went on there, he personally would have preferred Spencer not returning to the club ever, but similar to how Spencer had reacted when Derek had tried to tell him he couldn't visit his mother, Derek knew Spencer didn't take kindly to being told what to do.
"But, I think we'll be fine," Derek continued. "This Unsub's a coward. He seems to like to strike where there's no one around to see him. I don't think he'd attack Spencer in the club. And, in any case, I'll be sticking close to the kid. No one's going to get a chance to try anything on him."
"How are you going to pull that off when Spencer's actually… doing his job?" Emily asked, genuinely curious.
Derek frowned.
"Well… Spencer's going to have to allow for some accommodation on that point," Derek said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Emily grimaced sympathetically.
"Good luck with that, buddy," she said as she patted his arm.
Derek shook his head as he pushed away from the couch and made his way into the back hallway. He knocked lightly on Spencer's door.
"Hey, kid! It's Morgan, I'm here to take you to work. You ready?" he called.
Instead of a response, the door opened and Derek took a step back, not expecting it.
Spencer was standing in front of him, satchel strapped across his chest and shoes on.
"I'm ready," Spencer responded, as he tried to push past the older man standing in his way.
Derek placed a hand up against the boy's chest and held him in place.
Spencer looked down at the large hand settled against his breast bone, and then up at the agent, slight annoyance written on his face.
"Just wait a minute, kid." Derek said as he pulled his hand back. "Are you ok? I heard what happened with the Unsub today. I also heard that J.J. and Emily tried to convince you to take the day off, but you refused. I kind of figured you'd do that, but it doesn't change the fact that it could be dangerous for you out there. If you want to talk about anything, I told you I'm here."
Spencer sighed softly and glanced down at his feet.
"Talking to that guy today was… definitely not pleasant. He said some really despicable things. But, I'm fine," Spencer said as he finally looked up. "Besides, I do trust you guys to look out for me."
Derek smiled upon hearing that.
"Great to hear, kid. I'm going to be with you all night. So you've got nothing to worry about," Derek said as he stepped back letting Spencer walk past him.
"Hmm… We're probably going to have to talk about that," Spencer mumbled to himself as he made his way down the hall.
As the two walked back into the living room, Emily and J.J. were just finishing packing up their boxes. They sent hesitant smiles in Spencer's direction and he returned theirs with a genuine one, to their relief.
"I'm fine you guys," Spencer said. "Thanks for looking out for me today. I really appreciate it."
Emily gave him a wide smile and nudged him slightly.
"It was our pleasure, really. You're a great kid, Spencer," she told him, causing him to blush.
Sending Spencer a big smile of her own, J.J. reached over and opened the door for them.
"Let's walk out together," she said happily.
Hours later, Derek was seated at the Mon Petit Chien bar. He had been sitting there, pretending not to be watching Spencer, for the last few hours. Things inside the club were slow before the main show started and it currently seemed to have the relaxed vibe of an after-work social hour. While Spencer was running drinks, Derek would engage the bartender, expressing his curiosity on the club's infrastructure. Whenever Spencer returned to the bar to place or retrieve orders, he would chat with Derek for a few minutes. Derek noticed that Spencer was smiling easily, and seemed relaxed. It was as if Spencer actually appreciated Derek's presence. And Derek felt happy to be able to give the kid some much needed stress-relief.
When Spencer next returned to the bar, Derek watched with interest as he handed over his serving tray to the man standing behind the bar.
"What's going on?" Derek asked.
"Well… it's almost 8:30. I've gotta get ready for my shows…" Spencer said as he averted his eyes.
Derek frowned.
"Yeah…we've got to talk about that," Derek said.
Spencer faced him head on, his light-brown eyes leaving no room for misinterpretation.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm going to go do my job." He said plainly.
"Look… I'm not telling you that you can't, but I've got to be there," Derek said, just as simply.
Spencer flushed, eyes widening in disbelief.
"What? You can't be there while I'm performing. They're private shows," Spencer hissed, lowering his voice.
Derek found himself flushing as well.
"I'm not going to watch, I just need to be someplace where I can see who's coming and going," he explained.
"I don't know how that's going to work," Spencer said, his irritation apparent.
"We'll make it work. I'm not going to allow you out of my sight, kid." Derek said, crossing his arms.
Throwing his hands up in frustration, Spencer pushed away from the bar and started walking towards the back of the club. Surprised, Derek jumped to his feet, and pursued the irritated boy.
"Kid!" Derek demanded as he tried to catch up with Spencer.
But Spencer ignored him as he pushed his way through the "Employees-Only" door and into the bustling corridor. Spencer squeezed past his coworkers, many of who were currently dressed in colorful spandex outfits for the upcoming main-show. Derek slammed the door open after him, fighting his way past the crowd and trying to maintain sight of Spencer.
The boy had made it halfway down the hallway and had almost stepped inside the changing room when Derek grabbed him by his arm and yanked him to a stop.
"Hey," Derek said, forcing Spencer to look at him. "You can't do stuff like this, kid."
Spencer pulled his arm from Derek's and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
"I… I'm not comfortable with all this," Spencer said with a frown. "I don't like the idea of you being there…"
Derek blinked at Spencer in surprise. It sounded as if Spencer had a problem with Derek, specifically, seeing what he did. He wondered how he would be able to assuage the boy's concerns enough to allow him to do his job.
"All I want to do is make sure you're safe," Derek said, placing a hand on Spencer's shoulder and forcing him to look at him. "You might think nobody can get at you here, but you remember how the Unsub was able to sneak in, and do what he did, without anyone noticing, right? I can't run the risk of something like that happening to you again."
Spencer's brow furrowed as he quietly stared at Derek. Derek looked into Spencer's light brown eyes and wondered why the boy looked like he was working through some type of problem. But then Spencer looked away from him and sighed in defeat.
"It seems like I have no choice," he said, casting a disgruntled look in the agent's direction.
"The best I can do is have you stand watch outside the door to my room. Go through there," Spencer said as he pointed to a red door at the end of the corridor.
"My room's number 6. But, I swear to God, you better not cause any trouble for me, and don't talk to any of my clients," Spencer warned as he locked eyes with Derek and poked him in the chest.
Derek looked down at the slight figure who was literally threatening him and fought to hold back his smile. He was sure Spencer wouldn't appreciate him laughing in his face.
"Scout's honor," Derek said with a grin. "I'll be quiet as a mouse."
Spencer rolled his eyes but nodded and motioned for Derek to leave.
Derek glanced around the busy hallway, hesitating for a moment.
"You sure you'll be ok back here?" he asked.
"Yes, Yes," Spencer said with a huff. "Now, I need to get dressed. I've got a client in less than 20 minutes."
Derek nodded and gently squeezed Spencer's shoulder, then he turned and walked out through the door the boy had indicated.
Spencer frowned slightly, as he watched after the agent, bringing a hand up to rub at the spot the agent had just touched, still feeling the slight warmth of the man's hand.
Derek leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Spencer's show to start. He tried not to think too much about it. He knew Spencer could disassociate when he was performing, but it didn't help him feel any better that he would be standing outside all night while Spencer acted out a litany of depraved acts for his customers. He had already seen a few men of differing ages make their way down the hall and into the other rooms. They had all given him curious looks, but no one had stopped and asked him any questions.
Another man began walking down the carpeted hallway and Derek watched him carefully as he glanced at all the numbers on the doors as he slowly made his way down, as if unsure which one he was going to. As he neared Derek, and came to a stop, the man watched the agent warily, eyes shifting from the door number above their heads to the agent's dark eyes. Derek raised an eyebrow at the man, and felt like he could see the man visibly start shaking. An embarrassed flush made its way up the man's neck to his cheeks, and he quickly ducked his head and hurriedly made his way back down the hallway. Derek shrugged his shoulders in disinterest and went back to standing guard outside the room.
Fifteen minutes later the sound of the door banging open at the end of the hallway caught Derek's' attention and his hand reflexively went to the holstered weapon at his hip. When the door swung fully open, it revealed the form of Lindy Roth, Spencer's manager. Derek watched in confusion as the petite woman stomped her way down the hallway. She was dressed in a dark red blouse, a tight pencil skirt, and impossibly high red stiletto heels. Not a strand of her straight blonde bob was out of place. A displeased frown tugged down the corners of her brightly painted red lips. Everything about her signaled that she meant business.
She stopped in front of him for a second, looking him up and down. She then rolled her eyes and let out a sound of exasperation. Without pausing to say a word to him, she pushed open the door to Spencer's room and stepped inside. Derek followed after her, curious as to what was happening.
As Lindy stormed up to a small two-way speaker, Derek took in the sight in front of him and felt his mouth fall open in awe. Spencer was sitting behind the glass, prettily poised on a cushioned chair, dressed from head to toe in shiny, black pleather. His eyes were closed, and lips slightly parted, like he knew he was meant to be an enticing display. And a display he was.
The paleness of his arms stood out in stark contrast against the black of the sleeveless, zipper-front vest he wore. A shiny metal chain connected the vest to the small zippered shorts that adorned his hips, allowing for tantalizing glimpses at his taut stomach. His long legs, currently crossed at the knee, were adorned in knee-high patent leather boots. And a long leather whip dangled by his feet, held lightly between his slender fingers. Derek swallowed thickly as his eyes took in the entirety of boy's outfit.
The voice of Spencer's irate manager cut into Derek's musings.
"You! Get in my office, now!" Lindy snapped at the boy as she pressed down on the intercom button. "You just had a client cancel on you!"
Spencer's eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet once he realized that his boss and the agent had stormed into the room. He stared at her with wide eyes, and then his eyes snapped to Derek. His face immediately flushed in embarrassment and he dropped the whip he had been clutching in his hands. He tried to speak but Lindy cut him off.
"Now! Now! Now!" she demanded, obviously out of patience.
Spencer snapped his mouth shut and nodded silently, and Derek watched as he scrambled to the door and disappeared.
"What-?" Derek began as he turned to the manager.
"Don't 'what' me! I put up with this shit when you were in the bar, but you basically just chased a paying customer away. I can't have this," Lindy said as she turned and stormed out of the room.
Derek followed after her, a frown on his face.
"I didn't scare that guy away," Derek said as he let her lead him down the hall and up a flight of stairs. Their brisk pace quickly brought them in front of a dark door, a floor above the private rooms.
"You think any pervert's going to walk into a room to get his rocks off when some glaring muscle-bound guy is standing guard outside? You basically scream cop," Lindy said as she turned around and looked him up and down.
Derek prepared to retort, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Spencer walking hurriedly towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. He tried to get the boy's attention but Spencer walked right past him, unwilling to meet his eyes.
Lindy reached past him and opened a door, allowing Spencer to enter.
"You stay out here, Agent," Lindy said as she put a hand up, stopping Derek's movement.
Derek glared, but allowed Lindy to turn and enter her office, closing the door behind her.
"Take a seat, Spencer," Lindy said as she sighed.
She watched as the thin boy lowered himself into one of the red leather armchairs facing her desk. Observing him silently she noticed how nervous he looked, with his shoulders hunched and bottom lip tucked snugly between his teeth. He also looked tired. Spencer had never been talkative, or even energetic, at work but the last few days—well, since the murder to be exact—he had been especially jumpy, withdrawn and distracted. She had always known he wasn't exactly cut out for this type of work. He was never really confident when he tried to turn on the sex appeal. And when he did try to talk to people, he would start to ramble off about statistics and strange facts that his colleagues could never quite follow. He was like an anomaly. But, he had asked for a job here, and she had seen something appealing about his shyness and awkward-nature. Even though he had been a gamble, she had known she could use him. But, now, Spencer was becoming a liability.
Sighing, she perched herself on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs and clasping her hands over her knees. Spencer still had not met her eyes.
"Hey, hey!" Lindy said as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Look up here! Come on, don't waste my time."
Spencer immediately snapped his head up to look at her.
Lindy smiled at him, and Spencer relaxed a bit, thinking she wasn't actually as angry as she had first seemed. But the smile didn't quite meet her eyes and when she finally opened her mouth, Spencer braced himself for her words.
"Spencer, it's time you got over yourself," Lindy said, the sweet tone belying her true intent.
"You barely bring in enough money here as it is. You think any other club would let you get away with acting like a little prima donna and telling the management what you 'will and won't' do? Because of that, you don't book as many clients as the other boys and girls. And it's bad enough that you have some kind of hang up about penetration. Most men don't want to see you just sucking on a dildo; they want to see it shoved up your ass," she spat, causing Spencer to cringe uncomfortably and blush at her bluntness.
"And I could never get over the fact that you had the audacity to make demands like that to me, especially when I was the only one willing to give you a chance," she continued, training her cold eyes on him. "But, I still let you work here because I knew that kid-face of yours could cater to a certain type of skeezy clientele."
Spencer looked away from her, ashamed.
"But now you're not bringing in any business, kid," she said, causing him to look up, confusion evident on his face.
"What'd you think?" Lindy asked as she rolled her eyes. "Of course the clients heard about that fuck-up LaRoux getting murdered in our club! It ended up being all over the fucking news, Spencer! It didn't take long for people to figure out he had been here to see 'number 6.' What do you think your regulars did after hearing that? They got out of dodge and started canceling appointments!"
Spencer stared at her in disbelief. He couldn't say anything in response.
"I've been putting up with you because you could at least bring in regulars, and those guys were pretty kinky so they were willing to pay the premium prices for the extras. But don't confuse my willingness to accommodate all your bullshit requests with kindness. I don't care about all your issues. This is a business, not a charity, and I'm not going to pay you if you don't work. I can find another wide-eyed, leggy jail-bait-looking twink in a second, kid. Don't think you're anything special," she warned.
"Lindy, I-" Spencer began but she raised one perfectly manicured hand, effectively cutting him off.
"You had one client booked tonight, Spencer. He was a newbie and from out of town. I think he's the only person who hasn't heard about the murder. And guess what happened to him? Your little personal body guard scared him away. And he took his money with him! On top of that, I've been fielding questions left and right from the other customers, wondering why cops and Feds have been crawling around here. I don't need this shit, Spencer. It's bad for business," she hissed at him.
Spencer flushed, looking down at his hands.
"I… there's someone who's been threatening me. H-he calls me and… They think it's the same guy who killed Mr. Victor…" Spencer mumbled out softly.
Lindy laughed in disbelief.
"Yeah, right. So you've got some customer from the club who wants to make the experience a little more real. It happens all the time. Next time he calls tell him you'll give him a little personalized service at the club if he lays off bothering you at home. And, hey, genius, change your number," Lindy said.
"I don't think it's that simple-" Spencer began, only to be cut off by Lindy again.
"You need to call off these FBI goons," she said sharply, leaving no room for argument.
"I can't. They said it's necessary to go everywhere with me," he said, feeling his face heat up at the admission. He hated being seen as weak and needing protection.
"I don't want them here, and if they're going to continue following you everywhere, well… it's probably best that you don't come here either, then," she said, the fake smile returning to her face.
Spencer stared at her in silence.
"Wait… are you saying that-" he began.
Lindy sighed.
"You're a smart boy, Spencer," she said as she shrugged. "Next time you come to work, I want you to be alone and have your head in the game. If not, don't bother coming back."
Spencer bit his lip. He didn't know if it was to stop himself from shouting at her or if it was to stop himself from crying. He was so angry.
Hearing no response, Lindy pushed herself off the edge of the desk and on to her feet.
"And as for right now," she said as she glanced down at her red nails. "I don't think we'll be needing you for the rest of the night. You don't have any more clients booked so you'll just be taking up space."
Looking back up at the boy, Lindy smiled toothily.
"By the way, you don't have any more clients for the rest of the week, Spencer. So, you might want to give some thought to going back to shaking your ass on the main stage. I know you were against doing it before, but we don't have the luxury of being picky anymore now that work is scarce, now do we?" she asked, in that sickly sweet tone.
Spencer paled at that. He hated dancing on the main stage. He would have to take his clothes off in front of a room full of people. He'd have to let them touch him…
"That's all I'm going to say. I don't want to see your face anymore," Lindy said as she shooed at him, signaling that she wanted him to leave.
Getting to his feet quietly and saying nothing to her, Spencer turned and let himself out of the office. Once the door closed behind him, he was immediately accosted by the concerned face of one Agent Derek Morgan.
"Hey, kid. Everything okay?" Derek asked, hesitantly.
Spencer looked up at him, eyebrows drawn down in an angry glare and trying hard to contain his roiling emotions.
"No, everything's not "okay!" Spencer snapped, as he turned away from Derek and started walking away.
Derek trotted after him, confusion apparent on his face.
"Because of you, and your team, and your goddamn investigation I'm on the verge of losing my fucking job!" Spencer said, refusing to look behind him. "You're scaring away my customers! On top of the fact that the few I already had are too afraid to book with me after what happened to Mr. Victor in my room! And now Lindy's sending me home early! I can't live like this. How am I going to make money if no one's booking me? Lindy said I'm going to have to start dancing on the stage again. I can't do that!"
Derek felt his heart clenching at Spencer's panicked words. The boy was agitated and wouldn't look at him, purposefully walking ahead of him even though he knew Derek wanted to talk. It seemed like Spencer was on the edge, and barely balancing.
Catching up to Spencer, Derek grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around.
Spencer was angry, but his eyes were wet, and he was blinking rapidly to try to clear the evidence from his eyes.
"Kid… shit, that wasn't our intention," Derek said, sincerely. "We're not trying to cause trouble for you. We'll try to figure something out, ok?"
"Figure something out!? How are you going to make it so that people forget someone was killed here? And how are you magically going to make it so I have enough money to pay my bills? You say all this stuff, as if it's going to suddenly be okay. But you're going to be gone as soon as you catch this guy and where does that leave me? Why do I have to be the one left feeling all this shit?" Spencer snapped.
He then turned from the agent and pulled open the door at the end of the hallway, making his way down the short flight of stairs and into the next hallway, as Derek rushed to follow behind him.
Spencer quickly marched down the hallway, ignoring Derek's shouts to "wait." A few customers and dancers were milling about the hall either on their way to the main showroom or heading towards the champagne rooms. Spencer easily side-stepped them, focusing on the floor in front of him, and tried to tune out the persistent shouts of the agent behind him. All he wanted to do was make it back to the dressing room, change, and go home. There was no point in dwelling on Lindy's words right now. He could think of a plan once he was alone in the privacy of his own home. He just needed to escape this place…escape the feeling of the walls closing in around him.
As he walked past a man who was swaying slightly, Spencer gasped as he felt himself get pushed up against the wall. The man's breath reeked of alcohol, and Spencer cringed as he felt a hand slide down his back and land on his ass, squeezing suggestively.
"Hey, hey now, Baby. Why the long face? Dressed up so pretty like this, you should be having fuuun," the man slurred, trying to grind his groin against Spencer's.
Before Spencer could open his mouth to protest, he felt the man's hands leave him and heard the sickening thud of his body and face being slammed against the wall next to him. The man let out a pained gasp and tried to struggle as his arm was yanked behind his back in a painful twist.
Spencer looked up with wide eyes to see Derek looming over the man, eyebrows lowered in an angry glare and breathing heavily, as if he were trying to calm himself.
"Derek!" Spencer called out, voice high-pitched and anxious.
Seeing that some of the dancers and customers had stopped to stare at the scene in front of them in shock, Spencer panicked and stepped closer to Derek, placing his hand on the agent's arm to get his attention.
"Agent Morgan," Spencer hissed, quietly. "You're causing a scene!"
Derek glanced at the wide-eyed boy, and then threw a quick look behind him to take in the on-lookers. Derek was un-phased.
"This asshole just tried to feel you up," he stated plainly, anger still edging his voice.
Spencer blushed and tried not to make eye contact with the others in the hall.
"That's not a crime! It's a fucking strip-club, the customers are allowed to touch the dancers, ok?" Spencer whispered hurriedly.
Derek locked eyes with Spencer.
"You don't have to put up with people like this just man-handling you, kid," Derek said, as if Spencer was being unreasonable.
Spencer shook his head and winced when he heard the man pressed against the wall let out another pained groan.
"Y-you need to let him go, before I get fired," he told Derek, a warning tone in his voice.
Derek hesitated a moment, but sighed, giving the man's arm another good twist before he finally released him. The man exhaled in relief as the agent stepped back and he turned around angrily.
"What the hell were you thinking, you asshole! You could've ripped my freaking arm off! I oughta fuck you up right here, right now," the man spat, words still slightly slurred and eyes appearing glazed.
"Man, if you know what's good for you, you'll walk away. Take some time to sober up," Derek warned, giving the man an icy glare.
The man closed his mouth, but returned the agent's glare. They both stood their ground, staring each other down for a moment. Then the inebriated man looked away, letting out a curse under his breath and turned, hurriedly stumbling down the hallway. Seeing that the commotion was over, the onlookers slowly dispersed, murmuring to themselves and throwing curious glances back in the direction of Spencer and Derek.
Spencer let out a relieved sigh, and then turned to Derek. He looked up at the frowning, mocha-skinned agent. His posture seemed to say that he was ready to give Spencer a piece of his mind as well. But Spencer was just too worn out to put up a fight. Instead, he looked at the older man carefully, his wide, clear eyes showing his confusion.
"Why do you keep doing this?" Spencer asked, his voice quiet.
Derek groaned as he ran a hand over his face in frustration. What didn't the kid get? Here he was again, acting as if he wasn't worth fighting for.
"I'm doing it because I care about you and I don't want to see you get hurt!" Derek snapped, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Just let me take care of you, dammit!"
Spencer stared up at the agent, eyes widened in shock. Why was it that every time Derek said things like this Spencer felt something in his chest clench and jump, as if it was trying to leap out? Was this what Emily and J.J. had been talking about? Spencer wondered to himself.
Derek's eyes widened after a moment, as if he had just registered what he said.
"Shit... kid, what I meant to say-" Derek began, as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"I-I need to go get changed," Spencer blurted out, interrupting Derek's words.
Derek's brow creased slightly, as if he didn't know if he should let Spencer go, or if he should persist in trying to explain himself.
But Spencer didn't stop to give Derek the time to make up his mind. He was already walking down the hallway, a small silly smile on his lips. Derek could do little but follow. He would make sure he cleared things up with the kid later.
When they returned to the apartment, some of the tension had lifted from Spencer's shoulders. He couldn't say he was happy he had been asked to leave work early, but it wouldn't have mattered if he stayed. If his clients were canceling, he wouldn't be getting paid much tonight anyway. But the one good thing that had happened—in Spencer's opinion—were the words that had slipped from Derek Morgan's mouth.
Spencer shrugged off his satchel and dropped it in a corner near the door. He was aware of the agent standing behind him, seeming as if he still wanted to 'talk' about their conversation in the club. He had tried to bring it up in the car, but Spencer had steered the conversation away from the subject, not wanting to give the man a chance to take the words back.
"I'm going to go change," Spencer said suddenly, as he turned around and faced Derek.
"Ok," Derek said, sounding caught off guard. "Well, I'll be waiting right out here."
Spencer nodded, and then he was heading down the hallway to his bedroom.
Derek sighed as he moved over to the couch and settled down on to it. Something had seemed slightly 'off' about Spencer since their argument in the club. The boy had seemed to understand that Derek was just looking out for him, but there was something about the way the kid was looking at him lately that made him somewhat uncomfortable. A little hot under the collar, to be exact… Spencer had been making a lot more eye contact that day, and every time the boy's wide, honey-colored eyes lingered on his, Derek felt his mouth getting dry and his heartrate increase slightly.
That's not good, he thought to himself, as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Derek couldn't help but think it was lucky that he wouldn't be spending the night at Spencer's. While he would feel more at ease watching the kid himself, his team was going to be staking out Spencer's neighborhood tonight. They'd have a uniformed officer stand guard outside Spencer's door in their absence. Garcia had confirmed to them that no bugs were found when the tech team had swept Spencer's apartment earlier in the day. Derek had been relieved to hear that. It meant that it was likely the Unsub had never been bold enough to actually enter Spencer's apartment. However, it had made it all the more likely that the Unsub was lingering nearby. Orchestrating a stakeout could be a good chance for them to intercept him.
The team was currently in position and had been since around 8:00. They hadn't expected Spencer to be returning so early, and after he explained the situation to them, he had told them he would bring Spencer up to his apartment and make sure he got settled. Derek was even thinking he might wait until the kid fell asleep. He knew the stakeout would likely be an all-night affair and, before they knew of the change in Spencer's work schedule, the team had already been expecting him to join them later in the night anyway. They probably wouldn't miss him if he took an extra hour to make sure Spencer was at ease.
Derek opened his eyes and looked up when he heard the sound of a door opening, and the soft padding of feet. Spencer then appeared, face dewy and pink as if it had just been washed. He was sporting his glasses and an old sci-fi t-shirt, along with a pair of dark gray lounge pants.
Derek smiled at him. For some reason, he liked seeing Spencer like this. It told him that Spencer still held on to the vestiges of who he had been before all his troubles had started. Derek liked the idea that Spencer had never given up his true self, and that the 'mask' Spencer wore at the club could easily be washed off. The Spencer standing before him was nothing like the tense and somber boy he had been arguing with just half an hour ago in the hallways of Mon Petit Chien.
Spencer smiled back at him, the little crinkle of confusion in his brow showing that he wasn't quite sure what had caused the agent to smile. He walked over and plopped himself down on the couch next to the larger man, stretching slightly, arching his back like a cat.
"You tired, kid?" Derek asked as his eyes watched the flexing of the boy's lithe body. As Spencer stretched, his t-shirt raised slightly, exposing that small expanse of skin around his bellybutton that Derek found himself becoming quite partial towards.
"No… not really, probably the opposite. Feeling a little wired, I guess. But I'm just happy to be home," Spencer said, as he stretched a bit more.
He then glanced up at Derek, who looked away quickly. It had felt like Derek's eyes had just been on him… had he imagined it?
"Ok… well, I can sit with you for a while if you want? Until you calm down a little bit?" Derek offered.
Spencer nodded slightly, still staring at the agent curiously.
He wasn't staring, was he? Spencer wondered to himself. The thought made him blush a little.
"So… you've got that stakeout tonight, huh?" Spencer asked as he stared down at his hands, suddenly feeling like he couldn't look at Derek's face.
"Yeah… it won't be anything too exciting. We probably won't even see anything. But, at least there'll be a lot of law enforcement officers on your block tonight. You can sleep soundly, knowing you're going to be protected from all sides," Derek said, throwing Spencer a wide smile.
"Hmm," Spencer hummed, as he reached over and grabbed the remote. Flicking it on, he absently scrolled through channels as his mind wandered. He tried not to focus on the hot throb he had felt in his chest when Derek had smiled that toothy smile at him. The more Spencer thought about it, the less he could deny to himself that Derek was attractive. That he was attracted to Derek…
Settling on an old episode of Star Trek, and falling into a comfortable silence with the agent sitting next to him, Spencer nibbled lightly at his lip as he thought about what he wanted to do. He was bothered… that was the best word he could think to describe his feelings. He felt antsy, and hot, like he couldn't sit still. And he was hyper-aware of Derek sitting next to him. Even when the older man shifted to put one of his feet up on the coffee table and yawned slightly, all of Spencer's senses tuned into him.
Spencer wondered if he should try something… test out his theory that Derek might like him. Emily's voice from earlier was suddenly echoing in his head: "Flirt, kid." Spencer swallowed nervously as he glanced at Derek from the corner of his eye. Sure, he knew how to talk to guys to make them want sex. But he had no idea how to talk to someone to make them want him. Spencer felt that they were, somehow, different things.
But his thoughts wandered slightly to the idea of Derek and… sex. Did he want that from Derek? He had never wanted that from anybody. But the agent's kind smile, deep laugh, and warm, chocolate eyes drew him in and did something to Spencer's head. And he couldn't deny that he had liked the way it felt to be enveloped in Derek's arms, completely surrounded by the older man's larger body. Plus, Derek was always touching him. It had gotten to the point that Spencer didn't even flinch when the agent laid his large, warm hands on him. Now he had actually started to crave the other man's touch. He thought he might like it if Derek touched him… maybe in other places…
"You know how I was saying I don't think I'd like doing it with a guy?" Spencer suddenly blurted out.
Derek glanced at the boy, with his eyebrows raised. He could never quite understand this kid's train of thought. It always seemed like his questions came from out of left field. Derek wondered if maybe having the brain of a genius meant the kid's mind ran a mile a minute, but whatever it was, Derek just couldn't keep up. He had no idea how they went from comfortably watching Star Trek to suddenly talking about Spencer's thoughts on his sexual preferences.
Seeing that Derek wasn't going to respond to his question, Spencer shifted so that he was sitting up on his knees facing the older man.
Sighing, Derek rubbed his temples and turned to face Spencer. For some reason, his heart was racing. He felt slightly apprehensive about what the boy was going to say.
"Well, I've tried it on myself once before… with my fingers. And I didn't really like it… I just didn't get the appeal, you know?" Spencer said nonchalantly.
Derek felt his face heat up.
This kid has no fucking filter! He thought to himself.
"Come on, kid, you're killing me here," he said as he ran his hand over his face. "Do you really think you should be talking to me, of all people, about that?"
Derek's mind was racing. He really didn't understand what was going on.
Spencer smiled slightly as he could see Derek blushing faintly; for some reason that gave him a little more confidence.
"Well," Spencer continued, "a lot of the guys at the club—and some of the girls, too—said they really like doing it… you know, 'back there.'"
Spencer leaned forward on his hands and inched a little closer to Derek, who by now was staring at him with wide eyes, looking like he was ready to bolt.
"So, I thought to myself, maybe I'm not doing it right… Like, maybe my fingers aren't long enough or maybe I don't know how to hit my spot. I dunno… but suddenly I think I want to try it. You know, see what it's supposed to feel like," Spencer said as he locked eyes with Derek. "And I thought maybe… you'd want to try it with me?"
Derek's eyes grew even larger. The atmosphere in the room had changed so suddenly. One minute, Spencer was the demure and often-times awkward little genius he had gotten to know over the past few days. The next, he was the embodiment of a sex kitten. It didn't matter that this Spencer was the one in the nerdy sci-fi t-shirt. The kid's eyes were those of the boy he knew probably took men's breath away in that club.
"Sp-Spencer," Derek said, throat strangely dry all of a sudden. "What are you talking about?"
Spencer leaned forward even more, and this time his hands were able to rest on Derek's thighs as his knees were nestled between them.
"Well, I dunno," Spencer said looking up at Derek coyly, cheeks glowing a soft pink. "I feel like you've been…you know, looking at me a lot differently lately. Kind of like you're interested, you know? I think you kind of gave me that look on the first day I met you, to be honest. And then yesterday morning…at the station."
Derek cleared his throat as he leaned back away from the boy, putting a hand up between them to widen the space. He didn't like hearing that Spencer had sensed something in the way he had looked at him the morning following his problematic dream. He had thought he had done a better job hiding the dream's effects on him. Apparently not. Derek knew he had to get a handle on this situation before things slipped out of his control and he did something he would regret.
"I don't know what you're talking about, and honestly, Spencer, this is really inappropriate-," but Derek's words were cut off as he suddenly felt Spencer's hand lightly grip him between his legs.
"Well, I think maybe you should let me show you. I give an amazing blow jo—whoa! You're pretty big," Spencer said with wide eyes as he squeezed the slightly engorged length.
Derek was off the couch in a matter of seconds, breathing heavily as he rapidly tried to process what was going on.
What just happened? What the fuck just happened? Did Spencer feel me up? Did he really just proposition me? And why the fuck am I hard right now? Derek's panicked mind rattled off.
"Not ok, Spencer. NOT ok," Derek finally managed to speak as he looked at the boy still kneeling provocatively on the couch. Derek was glad that the couch was separating them; he wasn't sure how much his resolve would hold up if Spencer touched him again.
"This is really inappropriate, kid. You can't be doing stuff like this. I don't know what's going through that head of yours, but there's no way that this is going to happen. I'm a Federal agent. We're working a case. And you're a material witness." Derek panted out, trying to look anywhere but at the enticing sight in front of him.
"Ok…" Spencer trailed off as he looked up at Derek with those doe eyes. "I hear all that... But, you never said it was because you didn't like me."
Derek stared at the boy, who stared back at him expectantly.
Fuck! Derek thought to himself. He wished he didn't find him so alluring; it would have made it much easier to make this believable. But, as of right now, Derek had no answer for the boy.
"I'm leaving, Spencer," Derek said quickly as he grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch. "This… this isn't going to happen again. And we're both going to focus on the case from here on out. You got me?"
Spencer frowned but nodded slowly.
"Good," Derek huffed as he strolled to the door.
Stopping before he opened it, Derek muttered out a "'Night, kid."
Then he was out the door and it was slamming behind him before Spencer could say anything in response.
Flopping down on the couch after Derek had left, Spencer placed his hand over his heart to feel the organ's rapid beating. He couldn't believe he had done that. He had fondled Agent Derek Morgan. He was surprised he had been so bold, and he hadn't even known he was going to do it before his hand had started its descent. But, now he was kind of glad that he had. He hadn't been expecting to actually find that Derek was hard. He thought maybe through some teasing and prodding, he could get the agent excited and on board for… well, exactly what he wasn't sure. But, to his surprise, he hadn't had to do much to get that.
He's into me, right? Spencer wondered to himself, feeling his face heat slightly.
It was foreign for him to think that, and even more foreign for him to actually want that kind of attention from someone. He didn't know how to feel. All he knew was that, suddenly and strangely, he had become enamored with Agent Derek Morgan. It had gone from strong, almost visceral dislike, to reluctant acceptance, then to budding camaraderie. And now his body literally throbbed at the thought of him. That was new.
Moving his hand tentatively down his chest, the boy closed his eyes and sighed. His body felt so hot, at the thought of being with Derek Morgan. He wondered if he would touch him gently. He wondered if he could make him feel loved…
When Derek left Spencer's apartment, he was practically running. He hadn't even responded to the uniformed officer who was stationed in Spencer's hallway when the man called out a friendly "Good night" to him. As Derek reached the bottom landing and made his way outside, he took a deep breath. He knew he had to calm down, and get his shit together before his colleagues noticed.
His mind really couldn't process what had just taken place in Spencer's apartment. What was the kid trying to do, Derek wondered to himself. Just days before, Spencer had seemed mad at the world. He had, in particular, seemed like he wanted to take Derek's head off the first day they met. Now, he was staring up at Derek with needy eyes, lips parted, and saying such devilishly seductive things, it had Derek wondering if Spencer had a twin. But… he had to admit to himself that he knew he had been spending an inordinately large amount of time with Spencer lately. He had basically made it so he spent the most time with Spencer out of anyone else on the team. So much so that Hotch had chastised him for it on more than one occasion.
Was it his fault that Spencer had grown… attached? Was that even the word for it? Derek thought back to his conversation with Spencer at Mon Petit Chien earlier that night. Spencer had said something during their argument that had caught Derek's attention, but he hadn't had time to really think about it earlier. Spencer had said, "Why do I have to be the one left feeling all this shit?" Had Spencer actually developed feelings, Derek wondered.
He groaned to himself as he quickly jogged across the street and turned down the block, heading towards where he knew one of the surveillance vehicles were stationed. He couldn't even begin to think about all the complications it would create if Spencer had started developing feelings for him. Derek could easily ignore his own feelings (whatever they were, Derek hadn't yet decided) for the boy. He was fond of Spencer; he wanted to take care of him and help heal his wounds. And he would admit it... he was more than just a little bit attracted to the boy. But he knew how to not act on those feelings. He knew it would be wrong if he did. And he knew that if he just gave himself time, and especially the distance that would come with the end of this case, he would be able to put it behind him. Derek knew how to see it for what it really was. Infatuation.
But, Spencer… it was obvious Spencer had never trusted anyone. He was just a kid and all his life had been up to now was disappointment after disappointment. Spencer didn't know what it meant to have someone look out for him, show him affection and care, and want to make him happy, instead of hurt him. Wasn't Spencer just getting attached because Derek had been kind? Because Derek had swooped in when he needed to be saved?
There's no way Spencer Reid actually wants to be with me, Derek thought to himself with a frown. He's just confused.
Shaking these concerning thoughts from his head as the panel van came into view, Derek schooled his face not wanting his colleagues to profile him, like he knew they were wont to do. Tapping lightly on the rear bumper, as he had been instructed to do, he waited as the back doors opened up and he was met with Emily Prentiss' smiling face.
"Hey there," she said as she stepped back, allowing him to hop into the van.
"How'd things go with Spencer?" J.J. asked after he had walked further in and nodded to Hotch and Rossi. Derek had to school his face to not react to J.J.'s question.
"Things… are fine." He said as he took a seat.
Emily raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.
"Well… last time you talked to us it sounded like he was about to lose his job," she said with a frown.
Hotch pulled off his headphones and turned to face his team.
"I don't want to cause any unnecessary stress for Spencer. It makes no sense for us to upturn his life when we'll probably be gone in a few days," Hotch said. "I'm ok with allowing you to monitor him from the outside, keeping track of who's coming and going. I'm confident at this point that the Unsub isn't going to try to do anything to Spencer inside the club. He seems more focused on getting Spencer alone."
Derek, J.J. and Emily nodded their understanding.
"Sounds like it for sure," J.J. said. "He almost lost it when he was talking to us earlier. As if he was offended that we thought Spencer needed us to watch him."
Derek found himself not wanting to talk about the Unsub anymore. The man's ability to stay two steps ahead of them and come and go without their knowledge really rubbed him the wrong way. Instead, he pulled out a chair next to Hotch and Rossi who were watching the cameras trained on Spencer's building. There were views of the front of the building, side streets, and the fence-enclosed courtyard at the back.
"Anything interesting?" Derek asked as he leaned forward to get a better look at the grainy images.
"It's all pretty quiet. This is a mostly residential street, so we don't expect to see too much foot traffic at this time of night," Hotch said.
"We've got Garcia tapped into Spencer's phone, as well. If the Unsub tries to make a call to him, she'll be able to record whatever he says," Rossi told him.
Derek nodded, happy to hear they had all their bases covered.
"Garcia told me earlier that she's making good headway with the list," J.J. mentioned.
"Yeah?" Derek asked, glancing back at the blonde woman.
"She told me she's got it down to about 70 names. Gotta say I'm impressed," she said with a smile.
"That's good to hear. Garcia also found some information earlier that might connect an originally unrelated homicide to our Unsub. I sent Morgan earlier to interview the current owner of the victim's establishment, and he found a further connection to the club and those private events Spencer mentioned before," Hotch informed them, as he glanced at Derek. "There's a party coming up this Friday and we discussed the possibility of having Spencer attend one to gather more information."
Derek gritted his teeth but said nothing as he looked at his supervisor.
"Oh wow," J.J. said. "So, that's still on the table, huh?"
"It kind of has to be," Rossi chimed in. "We don't want to run the risk of this guy getting away. That kid's the only thing keeping the Unsub here and out in the open. It might be the best thing to use Spencer as bait."
Derek really didn't like the sound of that. He turned away from his colleagues and stared hard at the images on the screen as they cycled from camera to camera.
"Has anyone talked to Spencer about this yet?" Emily asked with a frown.
"No, we're keeping it as a last resort," Hotch said. "If Garcia can get us a small enough list to work with so that we can bring some good suspects in, I don't think we'll have to utilize Spencer at all. But… time is not on our side."
"Wait a second," Derek said as he sat up, drawing the attention of the other agents. "Hotch! Go back to Camera 4, I think I saw something."
Hotch frowned as he leaned closer to the controls and circled back through the camera feeds. The five agents watched the image on the screen carefully, observing the courtyard at the back of Spencer's apartment. It appeared motionless. Emily opened her mouth to say something, but the comment died in her throat when they all saw a figure step out of a shady alcove. It was as if he had been a part of the shadow. The man was tall, probably around 6'3", and was dressed in a black hoodie and what looked to be black sweatpants. They could see nothing discerning about him. The hoodie covered his head and cast a shadow over his face, obscuring his facial features.
"Shit, is that… is that him?" Derek asked, hands gripping the chair in front of him, knuckles taut.
They all watched silently as the dark-clad figure stood on the street, looking around casually. He waited as a car drove by. And then he inched closer to the fence. They looked on as the man began fiddling with the wooden slats, and that was enough for them.
"It's him! It's that son of a bitch! Go!" Derek shouted as he kicked the back door open and jumped out of the van.
The five agents ran down the street, the sounds of their boots hitting the pavement and their even breaths the only sounds in the dark night. But, the sounds of their footsteps must have alerted the trespasser because they heard the boards in the fence clattering to the ground and as they rounded the corner, they saw the man in the dark clothes take off down the other side of the street.
"Shit, he's getting away!" Derek yelled.
"J.J. and Rossi, you take the back street!" Hotch barked. "Morgan, Prentiss, we'll approach head-on!"
Derek was already a few feet ahead of his colleagues as he pounded the pavement in pursuit of their suspect. He wasn't about to let this guy go. He saw a glimpse of the man as he crossed the street and turned a corner. Derek wasted no time in heading around the corner after the man.
"Morgan!" he heard Hotch calling after him, after he had lost sight of his subordinate.
But Derek couldn't be bothered with protocol. As he made his way around the corner, he cursed. He couldn't see the man anymore. It was like he had just disappeared. Derek kept on running, sure that the man had to still be there; he couldn't have just vanished. Derek was halfway down the block when he heard the faint footsteps of Prentiss and Hotch on the street further behind him.
Suddenly, he heard the revving of an engine and bright lights were shining in his eyes. He came to a halt as he raised his hands to cover his eyes as he looked to see where the lights were coming from. He could see the dark outline of a sedan a few feet in front of him, idling in a commercial building's driveway. It took a split second for him to realize that the car had started moving. And it was moving fast.
Derek jumped out of the way, crying out as the car slightly clipped him on his right hip. He fell to the ground, hard, rolling out of the tires' path as the car skidded out of the driveway and barreled down the street. He forced himself to roll to a sitting position, ignoring the ache in his side and his hands where he had hit the hard blacktop, and tried to register as much information as he could. As the car drove off in the opposite direction of the approaching agents, Derek cursed. The car had no rear licenses plates. All he could tell was that it was a large black sedan. Most likely some type of foreign luxury vehicle.
He listened as the car drove away, the sound of its engine getting lower and lower.
"Dammit!" he yelled as he pounded his fist against the pavement.
His colleagues raced up to him, shouting and asking if he was ok.
"Did anyone get the plates?" he asked, as he tried to get to his feet.
He felt Hotch's arm supporting him and helping him up. He winced slightly as he applied pressure to his hip, but he already knew it was going to be nothing more than a bad bruise.
"No, sorry," J.J. said as she came running up to him. "We couldn't see anything from the front. We barely even saw the car before he was trying to mow you down."
"The lights were too bright to see anything. The guy took off like a bat out of hell," Emily said as she came up on his other side trying to offer her assistance.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Derek said as he shook off Hotch and Emily's help.
"All I could see is that it's probably a luxury car, but too dark to tell," Rossi said as he approached. "Looked like it might have been a Benz…maybe an Audi."
"Shit, that was probably our fucking Unsub, and he got away!" Derek growled out as he walked towards the middle of the street looking in both directions.
"Look, Derek, there's nothing we could've done about it. No one was expecting this," J.J said as she tried to calm him down.
"The Unsub planned for this," Derek snapped at her.
"I just alerted the officers in the surrounding area that a black vehicle just took off, doing what was probably 60 in a residential zone," Hotch informed them as he put his cellphone away. "Hopefully they'll be able to catch him."
"I highly doubt it," Derek huffed out.
The other agents looked at him curiously.
"Well, we've got to try," Emily said simply.
"For right now, Morgan, I want you to go get those injuries checked out," Hotch said as he gestured down to Derek's hand.
Derek glanced down at his hands. They were scratched up and bleeding lightly. There were pieces of gravel imbedded in his palms. He hadn't even felt the pain.
"I'm fine, Hotch." Derek said.
"Yeah, well, I'll believe it when I hear a doctor say that," the older man said.
"Come on everyone, let's get back to work and see if we can do anything with the new information we have," Hotch instructed.
As the agents started to make their way back down the dark and deserted street, Derek stood in the middle of the street staring in the opposite direction after the car that had disappeared mere minutes ago, a frown on his face.
We were so close, he thought to himself.
A/N: Hmm, poor Spencer. Poor, confused Spencer. Or, should we say poor Morgan? What to do when a young pretty boy wants to put the moves on you? Gotta love the angst! Haha. Other than that, a lot of stuff happened, right? Mama's all tuckered out from so much writing. So I hope you guys liked all the plot development.
Until next time!
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