Part 4 of The Story of Spencer and Me: The Morgan-Reids are home and heading back to work. They get a bizarre case which has the team focused…and not on them. Can they stay undercover while investigating the strange crime? With the likes of Garcia on the case, is that even possible? (Slash/AU/Language/Adult Situations)

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SS&M – Part 4: The Case of the Four Horsemen

…

"So, what do we say when we…how are we going to…addresses, Derek," Reid complained as the two of them got dressed to go to work. They'd been gone a week…half-assed honeymoon which ended horribly in Chicago. Spencer was still scratching his tattoo, even though Derek had put ointment on it every night so it healed properly.

After the tattoo experience, Spencer had suggested Derek go back to his mother's house alone while he went to the Art Institute of Chicago, but Derek refused to leave his side. He told Spencer he'd deal with his family after they cooled down and came to their senses. He did admit, much to Spencer's surprise, that just showing up married without any prior warning might have been a mistake, but he explained he thought they were okay with it, based on their initial reactions. It wasn't until he'd explained things to his baby sister, Desiree, when things seemed to go downhill. Currently, they weren't talking about it.

"You don't want to rush into confessing it, so we just go on like it's any other day, Spence. You have your place until the end of the year, so keep the address. We can stay underground as long as you want, okay? You can get a P.O. Box for your mail, and nobody ever has to know if you don't want them to," Morgan offered.

Spencer walked over to his husband and pulled graceful, long fingers away from his chest where he was buttoning his shirt. "I'm not embarrassed at being married to you, Derek. I'm worried about the two of us being split up. I don't want to leave the BAU, and I don't think you do either. Can we just wait a little while and feel out our colleagues gently? We'll never stand a chance at being able to keep our jobs without their support. Can we play it by ear?"

Derek nodded, and the two of them gathered their things to leave for the office. Morgan drove his truck while Spencer drove his car. They parked in the garage and smiled at each other as they approached the elevator. "How was your vacation, Morgan?" Reid asked, hoping to set the tone.

Morgan laughed. "I had the most amazing vacation ever, Pretty Boy. How 'bout you?"

The door closed, and they looked at each other with bright smiles. Morgan looked at his watch and turned to Spencer. "What do you want to do tonight about dinner? We need to move your things into the house, Spencer. We can move stuff from the house we don't need into your apartment for storage for as long as you want to maintain a separate residence."

He saw Spencer look up at the camera, and he knew the panic. "Sight but no sound, so we can converse. So, dinner? I thought we'd grill while we can. It's getting chilly at night, but with the grill, it'll be warm enough. I'll stop by the store on the way home," he explained.

"I love you, Mr. Reid. Steaks sound great," Spencer told him as the door opened.

They walked onto the floor and looked around, seeing they were early. Morgan went to his office and dropped his go-bag along with his brief case. He checked his messages, hearing one from his buddy, Steven, who worked for Cap Hill PD. "What the fuck do you want me to do with a dead cat, brotha?" He laughed.

The next message was from his mother. "Son, I'm sorry for the way we behaved. We were surprised, laddie. We love ye, and you sprung one on us. Please call me. I don't hate him, Derek. He's a sweet boy. Call me."

He skipped to the next message. "It's me, sweetie. I need full-disclosure on what happened. I hope it's what I thought. Love you," Garcia gushed.

Morgan hung up the phone and took off his jacket to head for the breakroom. He saw Spencer in the kitchen area with JJ, and he dreaded it. She'd be giving Spencer the third degree about the fading bruises, but he knew his husband would have an explanation.

He walked in through the side door and poured himself a cup of coffee with a spot of cream and one sugar. He listened, smiling when he heard JJ talking to Spencer. "What happened? Where the hell have you been, Spence? I called you so many fucking times, but you never answered," she complained.

"Jayje, I lost my phone, okay? I needed some time away, so I took it. I love you, but I don't owe you any explanation, sweetheart. You can rule over Will, but I'm not him," Reid told her.

"Will? We have a lot to catch up on, Spence. How about…" JJ began when the phones went off. Morgan pulled his to see it was Garcia. He ducked out of the kitchen and hurried to his office so nobody knew he was eavesdropping. He opened the message and read it, not sure how to feel.

Round table in ten minutes. We have a most unusual case, but there's no doubt its serial. Saddle up, BAU.

Morgan had no idea what it meant, but work was steady, and he was looking for steady. He and Spencer were going to keep shit to themselves, so a case? What better distraction was there?

…

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sorry to bring this case to you, but Louisville PD has requested our assistance on this one. JJ was away from her desk so I caught it, but I think they really need us," Garcia explained as she hit the remote control to show a four-shot of dead horses.

"Whoa," Prentiss complained as they all saw the images on the screen.

"Yes, well, it's a little too late for that, my sweet. Please meet, from left to right and top to bottom, Nancy's Fancy, King Charlemagne, Blue Moon, and Whiskey Dawn. These four beautiful creatures have each passed away at the stable of Lord Charles Harrington. He owns a large stable outside Louisville, Kentucky. He's a descendent of the Harringtons from Lincolnshire, in the UK, but he runs an equine training facility not far from Churchill Downs.

"These four horses were found dead in their stalls over the last two weeks," Garcia further explained.

Rossi laughed. "So, now we're equine investigators?"

Garcia smiled. "Not so fast, Italian Stallion. Four grooms-slash-jockeys who have been working with said horses have also gone missing. Three have turned up dead in the stalls where their mounts were stabled. The fourth horse, Whiskey Dawn, was found last night, but his groom/jockey, Santiago Sandoval, has gone missing. He's not been found dead or alive, and he hasn't been in contact with anyone at Harrington Stables. Louisville PD has requested our presence," she finished. Morgan and Reid had barely caught their breath from the wedding excitement and the pressure to keep things under wraps, but they were anxious to get in the field and get their minds on anything else.

"Wheels up in thirty," Hotch ordered. Everyone scrambled to gather their things, and as Reid made is way to his desk, he couldn't help but scratch his chest over his heart. It was healing, but it itched like a mother fucker. He'd only smile and think about how it was worth it…he had his husband's name in and on his heart. That wasn't a bad thing.

…

"Holy horseshit, Batman," Emily gasped as they pulled through the gate at the Harrington Estate. They were told Lord Harrington, and his wife, Lady Charlotte Harrington, was on holiday in Morocco for the month of October, so they were to meet with the head trainer, Jim-Bob Langley. Garcia was doing a background check on the man as they pulled up to the large stable.

Morgan noticed there were horses tied to a machine that slowly turned in a circle, walking them around a fenced lot. "Anyone know anything about horses?" he asked.

"New research indicates that domestic horses originated in the steppes of modern-day Ukraine, southwest Russia and west Kazakhstan, mixing with local wild herds as they spread throughout Europe and Asia. The scientific name is Equus Caballus. Horses are…" Reid began.

Morgan patted him on the shoulder as the rest of the team laughed. "Thank you for the history lesson, Dr. Mo…Reid, but I meant anything about this sort of operation. I'm gonna guess those four dead horses were worth a lot of money. This is thoroughbred racing country at its finest. An English Lord doesn't toss a dart at a map and decide to set up shop in Louisville, Kentucky."

Just then, Hotch's phone rang. "Garcia, you're on speaker. What have you found?"

"Okay, crime fighters, please stay with me because it's a tangled web. The four grooms, who were really training jockeys because they hadn't caught a racing mount yet, are all brothers from Brazil.

"The Sandoval brothers: twins, Santino and Santiago, age twenty-three; Benicio, age twenty one; and Nicolas, age eighteen. They were hired by Lord Harrington when he went to Argentina to buy the four deceased horses. The Sandoval family has raised thoroughbred horses for three generations. There's a long list of sires and dams of some top racing stock attributed to the Sandoval ranch, but when the father, Ignacio, took over the ranch after the death of his father, Santino, Sr., things seemed to go downhill.

"Ignacio was quite the little gambler and he got into some very bad men for a lot of money, or so a lawsuit inferred when Ignacio was sued for non-payment of supplies from a foundry outside Mendoza. He sold those four horses, which have a long pedigree, to Lord Harrington at a discount because he needed the money to pay off gambling debts and catch-up on the bills before he lost the ranch. The four brothers were issued work visas to come to the U.S. around the time the horses were released from quarantine. Lord Harrington chartered a private service to bring the horses to the U.S., along with the Sandoval brothers.

"They're here legally and have worked for the Harringtons for a year. Next spring would be the first season for the horses to race. They've participated in some little county fair type things, and none of the horses actually had a great showing, but that might not be unusual because they're young.

"For the record, each horse was insured for a million dollars, based on the pedigree, not any actual race winnings. Anything else?" she asked.

"Garcia, how much did Harrington pay for the horses?" Rossi asked.

"Uhhm…oh, one-hundred-thousand, US, each, Godfather," Garcia teased.

"Thanks, Penelope," Rossi responded as the team rolled out of the Suburban. They gathered at the side of the vehicle away from the stable.

"Okay, so we have four-million-dollars' worth of dead horses which were purchased for ten-percent of that value. Clearly, they were worth more dead than alive," Hotch assessed.

"Eh, not so fast. Each horse was approaching its first year of professional racing…two-years old. This would be the year where they earn a reputation so that next year, when they're of Derby age, they have a shot at the Triple Crown circuit. If they haven't been proven yet, why would Harrington want them dead before they ever hit the track to qualify? And, why kill their training jockeys?

"Those horses would have had the opportunity to rack up winnings over the next year's racing season. They'd earn money and points, and if perhaps one of them was Triple Crown material next year, the stud fees or the brood fees would be incredible for all of the horses. If they're so pedigreed, they might not even have had to race. It doesn't make sense, and if the jockeys, who were actually very young in the sport, were from a racing family, Harrington could have sponsored them and they could have won other mounts, making money for the ranch as well. None of it adds up," Reid surmised.

"We don't know Lord Harrington ordered them destroyed. There could have been other reasons why the jockeys were abducted. Maybe they followed in daddy's footsteps and have accrued racing debts or maybe Daddy's still incurring debts in Argentina and these are revenge killings," Emily began.

JJ, who was quiet, finally spoke up. "Does Ignacio Sandoval have that kind of juice in racing circles warranting killing horses from his bloodlines would do him harm? How do we know these horses are really from those high-priced studs? How many does Sandoval have at the ranch these days?"

Hotch cleared his throat. "JJ, you and Reid stay here with the vehicle and reach out to Garcia. Find out everything you can regarding the Sandoval operation in Argentina and see if he has any other ties in the U.S. Also, find out from Louisville PD if they've even notified the parents of the dead jockeys. Locate Lord Harrington and see if there's any way we can get him back to the States. He has four dead horses and three dead employees, seems to me he'd want to come home." They both nodded as the rest of the team took off toward the stable.

Reid opened the front passenger door and helped JJ inside. He walked over to the driver side to hop in himself. "Instead of calling her, let's send her a task-list via e-mail. It's easier for her to gather information if it's targeted," he offered.

"Yes, and it gives us time to catch up, so start thinking about how to explain that face to me," JJ ordered.

"Sure, as long as you explain to me what's going on with you and Will," Reid responded.

After the list was sent to Garcia and they received an acknowledgment of it, Reid and JJ turned to face each other. "What happened to your face, and why were you gone for a week?" JJ asked.

"What happened with you and Will, and why do you look like you're going to throw up?" Reid returned. Before she could answer, she hopped out of the SUV and walked behind a tree. Reid saw her bend forward, and he plugged his ears. He had a very acute gag reflex when it came to someone else throwing up. He could suck his husband all the way down his throat, but the sounds of someone retching…he'd join them in a heartbeat.

He grabbed an extra bottle of water from his messenger bag, and once the awful noise stopped, he approached JJ. He handed her the water, and after she did a gulp and gargle, she turned to smile at Spencer. "I'm pregnant. I told Will, and he hasn't returned a call since. He was supposed to come here this weekend, but I felt it necessary to make sure he knew I was pregnant before he got on that plane. He didn't come. We're through," she told Spencer calmly.

He was shocked, but he knew she didn't need anything more than support. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. "Okay, so he's a jackoff. We're here for you, sweetheart. What can I do?" he asked.

She smiled and wiped her eyes. "I'll need some help with putting together baby furniture at some point. Garcia said she's got shopping covered, which I know doesn't break your heart, and Emily promised to come over and baby-proof my place, including a new alarm system. When the time comes, maybe you can talk Morgan into coming over to help out with some of these things?"

Reid hugged her and kissed her forehead. "Whatever you need, sweet girl. Hey, I can go with you to Lamaze and be a birthing coach if you're in the market. Childbirth has always fascinated me," he offered with a smile.

"I'd love it, Uncle Spence. Now, what happened to your face?" she asked.

Reid pondered whether to tell her some of the truth because word would get around eventually when Lucas Cook didn't return to Quantico. Hotch knew the truth about the bastard, as well as Garcia and Morgan, but JJ was a very good friend to him so he didn't want her to find out last. "I had a date that didn't turn out so well. His name was…" he began as he explained to her about what had gone down with Lucas Cook.

In typical JJ fashion, she listened, providing supportive gasps and angry nods as he'd expect from her. He told her Morgan and Garcia figured it out and Morgan came looking for him, but he stopped short of telling her that the two men had admitted their feelings for each other and actually walked down the aisle. He loved JJ, but he didn't want to saddle her with the secret, especially since she was pregnant. He convinced himself it was the kindest thing to do, so he did.

…

The team checked into a Holiday Inn near Churchill Downs because, according to Jim-Bob Langley, there were some people there who weren't exactly friends of Lord Harrington's, nor were they fans of the Sandoval brothers. He'd given them a name of a jockey at the track who tried to work with the brothers, and when Hotch had called to set up a time to interview the man, he was told the guy would be there the next morning at six. He'd tasked Emily and Morgan to go handle the interview.

After they checked in, everyone went to their rooms to change before going for dinner. The lead detective at Louisville PD had told them about a Cuban/Caribbean place that was great, so they were all going.

As Reid stuck his keycard into his door, he looked to his left to see Morgan smiling at him as he opened his own door. Once Reid was inside, he dropped his bag on the bed and looked around the room, seeing it appeared clean. There was a knock on his door, and as he walked over to it, he expected to see his husband outside. As he looked out the peephole, he saw nothing, but the knocking continued.

He turned to see another door next to the television he'd assumed was a closet. When he opened it, he saw Derek standing there with a smile. He was holding his Dopp kit and had a towel tossed over his shoulder. "Can we shower together?" he asked.

"How'd we end up with adjoining rooms?" Spencer asked.

"I called them and switched us. All the rooms on this floor are adjoining, so I changed it so Rossi and JJ shared a wall, and Hotch and Prentiss share a wall. And, obviously, I'm sharing a wall with you. So, hotstuff, your shower or mine?" Morgan asked with a bright smile.

Spencer laughed. "Since you're already saddled up, let's use mine. Any word from your mom?" he asked as the two of them proceeded to undress in Spencer's room and then head to the bathroom to shower.

Morgan turned on the water as Spencer quickly shaved. He brushed his teeth and then washed his face before he hopped into the shower with Derek. He pushed the soap dispenser affixed to the wall and smelled the liquid soap. It wasn't Derek's usual sandalwood, but it wasn't horrible, and if the hotel used the same soap in every dispenser, then nobody would know they showered together. "Turn around, love," Spencer ordered.

Morgan did as told and allowed his husband to wash him. "Tell me what you and JJ talked about while we were talking to that redneck mother fucker, Jim-Bob Langley. He's an old-school southern boy. I wouldn't be surprised if he was measurin' my neck for a fucking noose."

Reid stepped back because it wasn't like Morgan to be judgmental. "What did he say to you?"

"I asked the fuck a question regarding the horses, and he laughed at me. He said, 'Boy, I don't expect ya to know nothin' about horse flesh. Maybe you wanna clean out some of them there stalls like the rest of the boys round here do.' Then, he pointed to a few black guys who were cleaning stalls. If Rossi hadn't held me back, I'd have decked the bastard," Derek explained.

Spencer felt the muscles of Derek's shoulders tense, so he pumped some of the hair conditioner into his palm and went back to massaging his husband. "What did Hotch say?" he asked.

Derek moaned, and Spencer smiled. He walked closer behind his man and moved his hands down Derek's chest slowly as is lips kissed along the beautiful, caramel-colored skin of the man he loved. "Oh, baby boy, you need to stop or we're gonna miss dinner."

Spencer knew one way to help Derek relax. He slowly turned him around and sunk to his knees, taking Morgan's organ into his mouth. After four minutes, Derek let out a loud moan as he released down Spencer's throat.

After Derek washed him, he returned the favor to Spencer. Once the two men finished showering, they dressed and met everyone downstairs for the drive to the restaurant. Both of them had smiles they couldn't hide, but in the dark of the Suburban, no one was watching. They sat in the far back and held hands, enjoying the banter of their colleagues.

Inside the colorful restaurant, the atmosphere was festive, and at the large table, they ordered a variety of dishes. They ordered pitchers of juices and sodas, and everyone enjoyed the meal…except JJ. She ordered sweet potato fries with smoked honey, and she continued to fan herself as dishes of beef, pork, and chicken were delivered, family style. Reid kept an eye on her, and when she hopped up from the table and hurried toward the restrooms, he was surprised to see Rossi hop up and follow her.

He glanced at Morgan, who was seated across from him, and he saw the concern on his face as well. "So, what did you find out from Langley today?" Spencer asked to change the focus from JJ.

Hotch, Prentiss, and Derek began filling Spencer in on what he'd missed during the interview of Jim-Bob Langley. "The guy's a racist prick," Emily stated.

Hotch put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her, which surprised Spencer. "He's more than that, Prentiss, and you didn't deserve what he said to you," Hotch stated apologetically.

Spencer looked at Derek and gave him 'the eye'. Derek laughed. "Prentiss tell Pretty Boy what that ass said to you," he requested.

"He told me I had no business trying to ask questions about the death of three beaners because women are only good for one thing," Emily stated, not hiding the acrimony in her voice.

"So, do we think he has anything to do with the deaths of the horses or the jockeys?" Reid asked, seeing JJ and Rossi returning to their seats at the table.

He turned to JJ and took her hand. "You okay?"

She glanced down the table at Rossi and smiled. "I'm actually much better than okay. So, what are we talking about?"

Reid smiled and turned back to the group. They discussed the questioning of the asshole head trainer, and when they finished eating and paid the bill, they headed back toward the hotel. Once everyone was clear on the departure time, they all went to their rooms, wishing each other a good-night.

After Derek walked through his door, he walked into Spencer's room. "So, baby, what was up with JJ?"

The two men continued to undress until they were in their boxer-briefs. They crawled into bed and settled next to each other with the light in the bathroom on behind the mostly closed door. Spencer cuddled up to him and rested his head over Derek's heart. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, baby boy. Never. So, what's up with JJ?"

"Ordinarily, if you weren't my husband, I wouldn't say anything, but since we've been married for two-and-a-half weeks, I'm couching this in the spousal-confidential agreement," Spencer stated.

Derek laughed. "Okay, if that existed, I'd agree to it. So, what's the deal?"

"She's pregnant, and when she told Will, he didn't show up this weekend. She told him over the phone and he was supposed to visit, but he hasn't been in touch with her. I volunteered to help her with things, and I kinda volunteered you to help her as well. I hope you're not mad," Spencer explained.

Derek laughed and pulled Spencer closer. "Nah. I'll do anything I can to help Jayje. Fuck Will LaMontagne for abandoning her. We'll be there for her and her little baby, Spencer. Whatever she needs, we'll be there," Derek told him as the two of them faded off to sleep in each other's arms.

…

There was a banging on a door in the distance that woke Derek Morgan. He was wrapped around his husband, causing him to smile, but the ringing of his phone in the other room and the banging on the door rousted him. He hurried to his room and messed up the bed before he pulled on a t-shirt. He looked out his door and saw Prentiss.

"What the fuck is so damn important?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"Santiago Sandoval was found at Harrington Stables in the stall formerly occupied by his mount. Unlike his three brothers who were strangled, he had a single gunshot wound to the head. Also, Lord Harrington returned overnight. Hotch wants us out there ASAP," Prentiss explained.

"Gimme ten minutes. Pound on Reid's door and let's take him with us. He has a knack at ferreting out a liar," Morgan offered as he closed the door in her face and hurried around his room. He opened the door adjoining his room to Reid's and pulled the door on his side closed before he closed his own. He heard Emily pounding on the door, and he laughed as he went to his bathroom to shave and brush his teeth.

After he dressed, he walked out of his room and knocked on Spencer's door. When Prentiss opened it, he wasn't surprised. "Where's the boy wonder?" he asked.

"In the shower. My god, he's impossible to wake, Morgan. He opened the door with one eye open. How does he get up every day? Oh," she whispered as she leaned toward him, "he has a tattoo. Can you believe that shit? Of all people, he's the last one," Emily joked as the two of them heard the bathroom door open.

When Morgan saw his husband walk out looking very handsome, he smiled. 'Every day for the rest of my life I get to see that view,' he told himself.

"We ready?" Morgan asked.

He saw Spencer walk to the nightstand and grab his wallet, which he brought to his lips before he sunk it into his back pocket. He watched as Spencer secured his Smith & Wesson 65 in the holster off his belt, and he watched him pick up his coat and scarf. When he turned to look at Derek, he saw the smile he expected. "I'm ready."

The three of them left the room, with Derek giving a smack to Spencer's ass…Spencer's tempting ass he hadn't had the pleasure of enjoying nearly enough, but they were on a case, and they couldn't afford to have their judgment clouded with lust. Clearer heads would prevail.

…

"Charles Harrington," the man introduced himself.

"I'm SSA Derek Morgan. This is SSA Emily Prentiss, and Dr. Spencer Reid," Morgan introduced as the three of them found the lord of the manner in the barn.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm told my stable man insulted you, and I apologize. It appears to me these losses mean less to my staff than which I'm comfortable. I've fired Jim-Bob. He's in his office cleaning out his belongings. I'm more than happy to cooperate with the American authorities because I have nothing to hide. It's a travesty something this horrible happened while I was away. I'm not sure I could have prevented it, but I'd have certainly been more cooperative with the coppers when it first started happening," the man explained.

Spencer cleared his throat, having a thought. "Did your wife return with you?"

He saw the man shift his stance. "Actually, no. She returned to Lincolnshire to look after our home there. She's never actually taken to the lifestyle here in Kentucky. She was excited about the new horses until she got a look at them. She was skeptical of my judgment regarding horseflesh, but we agreed to disagree. What can I do for you to help along this investigation?" Charles Harrington asked.

Emily perked up and smiled. "Tell me, Lord Harrington, is your wife a horsewoman?"

The man chuckled as he stroked his mustache. "Oh, yes. Charlotte reminds me of Princess Anne. They're both avid horsewomen, Agent Prentiss. I can show you some of Charlotte's trophies and ribbons from her equestrian years. It was her idea we start the stable here, as a matter of fact," he began as he led the three of them to the offices inside the large stable.

There was a room devoted to his wife's hunter/jumper career, and he beamed with pride. She'd been a member of an Olympic team years prior. When she had a bad spill, she stopped riding and turned to breeding horses. It turned out Lord Harrington had gone to Argentina without her input, and when he got the horses for such a low price, he paid for the grooms, or training jockeys to accompany them, his wife was skeptical.

They all listened to him boast about her judgment regarding prime horseflesh, and Reid had an idea. He excused himself and went outside to call Garcia. "Boy Wonder, I'm at your service. What do you need?" she asked.

"Garcia, is there any way you can trace the bloodlines of those four horses? Is there a chance they're not the progeny of the prime stock from the Sandoval stable and that's why Ignacio was so eager to sell them for so much less? Is it possible?" he asked.

"I'm not sure if I can trace it, but I'll try. I'll need the name of the vet who works for Harrington because they have to have DNA that can be run against others in the bloodline. If you can get me that, I'll try. I can trace horses purchased from Sandoval who've had to be quarantined before being admitted into the US, and they'd have had to have blood drawn and tested. I just need a vet," she requested.

As Reid was finishing his conversation with Garcia, he felt an arm around his waist and lips on his neck. "I truly need to get you home. We need to…"

"Genius, who's that?" Garcia asked.

"It's one of the stable hands. Call me back with anything…I mean, I'll get the name of the vet and call you back," he quickly explained before he turned off his phone and looked at his husband.

"I was on the phone with Pen. Where's Emily?" he asked.

"Seems Lord Harrington has found a kindred spirit in our Miss Prentiss. He's showing her around the stables and introducing her to the other horses he owns," Derek explained.

"Are they race horses?" Spencer asked.

"No, they're his wife's horses. Hunter/jumpers. The whole thoroughbred thing was his idea. Apparently, the missus ended up not liking the idea," Morgan explained.

"Why?" Reid asked as he mind raced.

"He shifted focus from her to something more lucrative, as it sounds. She never wanted race horses, and apparently, it's brought a bit of a sticky something or other…anyway, they're on the outs because of it. She didn't go with him to Morocco. She went to Switzerland for a little cosmetic surgery, he told us," Derek offered. Reid grabbed his phone and called Garcia again.

Later that afternoon, Lord Harrington was calling his wife back to Kentucky because her favorite hunter, Love's Bounty, had developed colic. After the phone call, the man looked at the BAU members who were assembled, along with the local authorities. "I had no idea she'd take it this far. I thought she'd be peeved, but murder? Never," he stated.

…

The male members of the BAU sat in a local bar, and Rossi looked at Reid. "Okay, how'd you know?"

"When we showed up at the stables and that ass, Langley, was there, I knew he wasn't the brains behind it. It was something more, and we couldn't really get a profile together because there wasn't enough evidence to profile it like a normal psychopath. It didn't lead to the usual pet mutilators we encounter. There had to be something more involved, and what's the second best motivator in the world? Money.

"Garcia traced out the bloodlines through DNA on file with the ASPCA and found there was no way the Sandoval's prize stud horse was a descendant of any of these four horses. It's not surprising Ignacio used some of the lesser studs he had to breed the mares because he had to keep the factory going, and when we found out Mrs. Harrington had taken out the insurance policies, who could dispute the bloodlines? The sons who knew their father didn't have the proper sires. All he had was the papers from horses that had long ago died. It was fraud, but only those sons could attest to it. That's why she had them killed," Reid explained.

"Money, the root of all evil," Rossi sighed as he held up his glass of scotch.

"Yep," Spencer said as he held up his brandy to touch glasses. Morgan held up his beer, and Hotch held up his bourbon. They touched glasses and drank.

"Where's Emily?" Morgan asked.

"She and JJ were going to have a girl's night. Since that shit with Will, JJ's been feeling down," Rossi offered.

"What shit with Will?" Hotch offered.

Rossi looked at Spencer and shrugged his shoulders, so Spencer began speaking. "Okay, this is off the record, and I'm sure JJ will castrate me, but she's pregnant and when Will found out, he cancelled a trip to DC. I'm hoping it's just a shock to him…"

"But if he's abandoned her, she has lots of friends to be there, right Spence?" Rossi asked. Spencer was a bit shocked, but he nodded in agreement.

A piano began playing at the back of the bar, and all four men turned to see a quartet had taken residence. "Ah, John Coltrane," Derek whispered.

He turned to Spencer and smiled. "We have this…I have this at home if you'd like to borrow it," he offered. Spencer hoped they'd covered their tracks. He was, however, looking forward to getting home, building a fire in the fireplace, and listening to this John Coltrane that Derek seemed to enjoy. It sounded like a great evening and he was going to ensure it happened sooner than later.

When the four men returned to the Holiday Inn, Hotch looked at his watch. "Say we leave at ten? That okay?"

The all nodded and boarded the elevator, getting off on the fourth floor. As they went to their respective rooms, they all smiled as they let themselves inside.

Spencer opened the door between his and Derek's room and knocked softly. When it opened, he was surprised when his husband dragged him inside and onto the bed. "It's so damn hard to keep my hands off you, Dr. Morgan," he told him as he kissed his neck and began to undress him.

Spencer reciprocated by undressing Derek and kissing every new piece of skin that was revealed in the process. When he had the shirt and t-shirt off, he kissed the tattoo over Derek's heart and smiled up at his husband. "You're turn."

That night, Derek made love to Spencer. It wasn't slow and gentle as most of the other encounters had been. They needed it hard and fast, and that's what they did. Hard, fast, harder, faster. Shifting positions and then going for the gold. After Spencer sank back on the pillows after his second orgasm, he smiled as Derek continued to pound into him before he found his release. Once he settled on Spencer's chest and caught his breath, Derek rose up to look at his husband. "You okay?"

He smiled and kissed the top of Derek's bald head. "I'm always fine, Mr. Reid."

Derek chuckled as he retreated from his husband, holding onto the condom. It was then he remembered something. "We're getting tested because as a married man, I shouldn't have to use condoms, baby."

Spencer laughed and agreed. "I hate needles, remember? If you'll hold my hand, I'll do it."

When Derek came back to the bed, he took Spencer's hand, "I'll always hold your hand, pretty boy. Sleep time." They fell asleep with Derek wrapped around Spencer. Both of them wore happy smiles which were appropriate. Love had a way of making one stupid. They basked in that stupidity. It was the best thing in the world.

…

E/N: Hoped you enjoyed it. I still have more of our favorite couple. Please leave me a note. They encourage me to continue writing. If nobody's reading, why should I bother? ML