The music blared thoughout the club accompanied by flickering lights. Somewhere close to the DJ-booth a smoke machine spewed out a dense cloud of artificial mist, covering the floor. Everywhere people were dancing at an insane speed, clothes and hairdos eaqually insane looking. No wonder special agent Doctor Spencer Reid felt totally malplaced.

Sitting at the bar, he let his eyes wander around the huge room, sceptically watching the women – or rather young girls – dancing away like there was no tomorrow. And for them, maybe there wasn't. The hardly looked old enough to be high school graduates, and certainly not old enough to drink or smoke. Even still, at leas 80 percent of the dancers were carrying various types of drinks, ranging from beers to screaming orgasms. He cursed himself for actually reading that book, "A world of drinks" at Dereks house the other day. Now the information was wedged into his mind for all eternity, information that felt more suiting for a game of Jeopardy than in the world of a profiler. He sighed and considered leaving, when suddenly a familiar voice began yelling in his ear.

"Reid! Are you having fun!?" Voice belonging to JJ Jareau, the beautiful an perky young blonde belonging to his team of profilers. Not being a profiler herself, JJ was constantly picking up new knowledge from the other teammembers, one day hoping to prove herself as a true profiler. But right now, she looked nothing like the special agent she was. Her skirt was too short, her shoes were too high and her shirt looked like something she had borrowed from her little sisters closet. Ever so shiny and happy, and in this case – tipsy – she jumped up and down, bouncing to the music. "Come on, dance with me!"

Reid squirmed in his chair. "I don't think.. It's not.. Maybe later!" He had no intention of dancing tonight. He was simply looking for a window that he could climb out of. But this warehouse had no obvious windows, except te small ones by the ceiling. And those weren't an option.

JJ smirked and tugged lightly at Reids tousled bangs. "Big bore!" She reached across the bar and stole his drink, but after a few sips she looked at him. "Shirley Temple?!"

"I'm not a big fan of alcohol!" He gave a lopsided grin as JJ put the glass back beside him, put her tongue out at him, then bounced back into the crowd, disappearing from his line of sight.

Just as Reid was getting up to leave the rave that JJ had dragged him and the rest of the team along to, a firm hand on his shoulder shoved him back onto his seat. A quick glance reavealed special agent Derek Morgan, the self (and by others) proclaimed casanova of the team. He grabbed the seat beside Reid and sat down with a big grin on his lips.

"Hey, brainboy! You enjoying the view?!" He peered at the group of gorgeous women dancing a little bit too close to Reid for it to be a coincidence. Neither were their hungry and seductive looks a coincidence. Reid never realised when women were attracted to him. Derek laughed at his colleague's oblivious looks at the females. "Why don't you go dance with them!?"

Reid shook his head furiously. "Uh, no..! I can't.. Ah.. Well.. I've never.. Uh.." He tried to tell Derek that neither could he dance, neither did he want to, but the words got stuck in his throat. The warehouse was extremely hot, and beads of sweat began trickling down his cheeks.

Once again Derek laughed. "What are you drinking, man?!" He tasted the innocent drink and coughed heavily. "Shirley Temple, what the..?! You can't drink this at a rave!"

"I'm not a.."

"You're not a big fan of alcohol, I know! I'll get you something better that that crap! I promise you'll never taste the booze!" Despite Reids obvoius protests, Derek leaned over the bar, catching the attention of the bartender. Reid could not make out what Derek ordered, but the bartender returned a few minutes later with a brown drink in a tall glass, topped off with a straw.

"Go on! Taste it!"

Reluctantly, Reid put the straw to his plump lips, expecting a cold rush of disgusting liquid vomit to enter his mouth. Instead, he was pleasently surprised, when the drink actually tasted rather nice, and Derek was right – he would never have noticed the alcohol if he hadn't been warned. "This is good!" he yelled after a few sips.

Derek smiled. "Great! Enjoy that one, and I'll go find Emily and Hotch! We'll keep eachother company until JJ gets sick of dancing! I'll be right back!" With that he left Reid at the bar, makin his way though the raging crowd of overwatered dancers. Reid rested his elbow on the bar, gazing out into the crowd. There are some very strange people here, he thought. Well, technically, I am the one who stands out in the crowd, so technically – I'm the strange one. The realisation brought a slight smile to his lips. He felt like he was back in college. He was always the one standing out in the crowd, 13 years old in a school populated by young adults ranging from 18 to atleast 25. He took a few more sips on his drink, and suddenly the world wasn't such a bad place after all.

Three drinks later

Derek returned to the place where he had left Read half an hour earlier. It had been hell locating Emily and Hotch in the overcrowded warehouse. You'd think that finding man in an italian suit and a lady without a star spangled bra would be easy at a rave, but oh how he was mistaken. It took him a good 20 minutes to find them, five minutes to try to communicate his intentions to them, and five minutes to find their way back to the bar. But as they reached the seat Reid once occupied, they found it empty. Hotch moaned. "Don't tell me he's been kidnapped again!"

Derek laughed at the ironic joke and looked around to find his young co-worker. Suddenly, he stopped short. His eyes landed on something he'd never before seen. Just staring blankly at the dancefloor, he merely pointed in that direction as Hotch poked his arm for attention. Hotch and Emily turned to see what was the matter. The floor rumbled at the simultaneous dropping of three special agent's jaws.

Dancing in the middle of the dancefloor was Reid. He had rolled up his pants legs to his kneew, revealing the mismatching socks in pink and orange, and the fact that his shoes were missing. For some reason, he had tore his shirt off and tied it around his head as a big sweatband. Topless, he danced around the floor with JJ. Maybe dancing is not the right word for what he was doing. Jumping up and down madly, shaking his head, headbanging, arms flailing wildly out of control – all the while he was yelling and cheering himself and JJ on. From the looks of it, he was either drunk or having a standing epileptic seizure.

All Derek could do was stare. As he finally regained his ability to open his mouth, he managed to speak, or rather yell. "Reid drunk, and dancing! Now I've seen everything!"

Hotch turned to him. "What did you give him? Vodka on the rocks?"

"Naah", Derek grinned. "Long Island Ice Tea!"

"Derek!" Emily grabbed his arm. "There's like five different kinds of liqueur in that drink! You gave that to Reid?! Reid?!"

"Just the one!" It was all Derek could do to keep from falling to the ground laughing at the poor young man making a fool of himself on the dancefloor. But he seemed to enjoy himself. He was surrounded by females, even though he looked like an intoxicated troll doll at the moment.

A small vibration in his pocket caught Hotch's attention. He took out his small Nokia, and somehow managed to have a short communication with the person on the other side of the line. The look on his face after he hung up was not to be mistaken. They had been called in.

"Derek, go get Reid! Emily, grab JJ! We're leaving right now! We have to go straight to the airfield, apperently this case is a head priority!" He began walking towards the exit. "We'll meet outside!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Derek looked at his dancing co-workers. This was not going to be an easy flight.

I will continue this when I do not have homework, I think I have a pretty good plot planned out for the BAU. Let me know if you are interested in reading the next chapter, so I know wether to hurry or relax. R&R my friends!