The Perfect Distraction

*Author's Note: My second Criminal Minds fic! I hope you guys like it!*

It had been over before they had even gotten there. There wasn't anything they could have done. They had been called in too late to have even had a chance at saving her. That's what Hotch kept repeating to the team to console them, but it didn't really sound all that convincing. Logically, Reid knew that what Hotch had said was true: they had been brought onto the case too late. There just hadn't been enough time, but these comforting statements were drowned out by the voice in his head that said if he had only thought harder, worked it out faster, they could have saved the girl.

She had only been thirteen. Thirteen was way too young for someone's life to end. She had been a beautiful violin player her parents had told Reid as tears streamed down their pink, puffy faces. She had had a bright future ahead of her. Now her violin would just sit in the corner: unused, untouched, nothing but a monument to what could have been. It was unfair. It was unbearable. It happened all the time.

It was a very quiet plane ride back to Quantico. No one really wanted to discuss what had happened that day and everyone was too upset to attempt to make small talk. Reid was even too depressed to drink his coffee (which with his caffeine addiction was really saying something). Instead he just stared down at the ripples the plane's motion created in the sugary beverage. By the time he remembered to actually take a sip of the drink it had long since gone cold, causing to make a face and set it down to rest, neglected, on the coffee table.

Morgan sat across from Reid, absently watching the other agent examine his coffee. Morgan's ear buds were in his ears and the steady beats of hip-hop were thrumming through them, but he wasn't really listening to the smooth music. He didn't even register which song was playing. They had failed. They could blame timing or chance and they would probably be right, but what it all boiled down to was that they had failed. They had failed and a girl had died. How could Morgan concentrate on his music with those thoughts running through his head? He needed a distraction. Morgan glanced over at Reid's vacant face again. They all needed a distraction.

"Hey, Pretty Boy," said Morgan, tapping the table to get Reid's attention. "We should go out tonight. Head to a bar or a club or something." Reid frowned.

"I don't know…" he muttered. "Bars aren't exactly my thing, and even if they were, I'm not exactly in the mood to go out."

"Oh, come on," pushed Morgan. "Just give it a try. What can it hurt?" Reid opened his mouth to argue, but Morgan cut him off by quietly adding, "Honestly, I could really use the distraction tonight." Now that Morgan had made it about helping a teammate, how could Reid say no? Reid appraised Morgan silently for a moment, brows knit together over his wide, dark rimmed eyes, and then nodded. Morgan absently wondered how much sleep deprivation his fellow agent must have racked up to get such dark circles under his large, hazel eyes. After a case like this, though, Morgan could understand why Reid might have trouble sleeping. Some images just had a way of hanging around when you closed your eyes.

"Alright, I'll come," relented Reid. "But no expecting me to dance or anything. My coordination isn't really up to par when it comes to social rituals like dancing." Despite his down trodden mood, Morgan laughed. The mental image of Reid trying to dance was funny enough to pierce even this dark mood.

"No promises there, kid," he chuckled. Reid pouted.

"And let the regretting of my decision to go begin…" he grumbled. Derek just laughed harder. This was why he had wanted Reid to go along with him. It was much easier to forget the horrors of the day when he was teasing the slender genius. When they were talking, he could focus solely on their banter, could forget the trials of their stressful jobs and just center all of his attention on Reid's indignant, pouty face. And with a job this distressing, that was important.

"Oh, I'll make it worth your while," teased Morgan, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Reid's eyes widened in surprise, his gaunt cheeks flushing an embarrassed pink.

"Hey now," said Prentiss as she walked over to stand behind Morgan's seat, resting her elbows on the headrest. "Stop picking on Reid. You know he can't handle sexually suggestive comments, can you stud muffin?" she said with a saucy wink. Reid's blush deepened.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling flirtatious social interactions," he protested. Prentiss laughed.

"Yeah, which is why you ran away when that girl at the coffee shop asked you for your number," she said mischievously.

"I did not run…" grumbled Reid. "I merely remembered a previous engagement I had to attend…"

"Yeah, at the corner of Wussville and Chickening-Out-Central," laughed Morgan. Reid pouted.

"I did not chicken out…" he protested feebly.

"Oh, really?" asked Morgan, cocking an eyebrow skeptically. "Then what would you call it?"

"Making a tactical retreat?" suggested Reid, his pout replaced by a small smile as he appreciated the wit of his own answer. Morgan and Prentiss laughed, Morgan giving Reid an approving slap on the arm. Reid winced a little, massaging his bony shoulder where the friendly gesture had stung, but his smile remained. The gesture may have hurt, but the approval behind it made Reid not care about the pain. Despite himself, he always found himself wanting Morgan's approval. He didn't analyze why. Honestly, he was a little scared of what the reason could be. Better not to know and to just blame it on his own social awkwardness seeking approval from a socially successful male.

It seemed like there were a lot of things Reid was doing his best not to analyze about himself lately. One of which being the incident Prentiss had brought up at the coffee shop. Reid had this niggling sensation that it hadn't been the flirtation that had caused him to flee, but instead had been because it had been a woman flirting with him, and he didn't want to know anything more about that. Once he opened up that can of worms there would be no going back. Reid wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet.

"You wanna come out with us tonight, Prentiss?" Morgan asked, tilting his head back uncomfortably to look at the female agent.

"I would, but unfortunately I have a date with a glass of chamomile tea and my soft, soft mattress," said Prentiss regretfully. "Maybe next time." Morgan nodded.

"Ok, I hear ya. Sometimes sleep comes first."

"Hey!" exclaimed Reid indignantly. "How come she can get out of it with that excuse, but I can't?"

"It's because he loves you more than me, Reid," said Prentiss in a voice dripping with mock sorrow. "It's a painful truth I've long since come to accept." Prentiss wiped away an imaginary tear from the corner of one eye.

"Hey now," protested Morgan, raising his hands up in a gesture of peace. "You know there's room in my heart for both of you."

"According to the number of women you bring home there must be room in your heart for a lot of people…" grumbled Reid bitterly.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Morgan, clutching his heart in mock pain. "Your accusations wound me. Me, a womanizer? Nonsense." Prentiss laughed.

"Yeah, 'cause we all know you're practically a nun, Morgan…" she drawled sarcastically. Morgan raised his hands defensively.

"Hey now, so I may enjoy the company of the occasional woman here or there," Both Prentiss and Reid scoffed. "But I keep it reasonable," Morgan continued.

"You must have a very different definition of reasonable…" commented Prentiss. Morgan laughed.

"Truce, truce!" he chuckled. "My fragile ego can't handle so many pot shots at once."

"I bet that's not what you told those women," called JJ from across the plane.

"Hey! Now don't you get in on this too!" protested Morgan jokingly. Everyone laughed. Everyone, that is, except for Reid who was looking mildly sulky. For some reason he didn't like being reminded of how many women Morgan had been with. Yet one more thing to avoid analyzing.

"Well, if I'm going out tonight, I'd better try to get some sleep now," mumbled Reid through a jaw cracking yawn. He really should have drunk that coffee instead of just staring at it.

"Alright, kid," said Morgan. "We'll quiet down and let you get your beauty rest."

"I think we have about two hours left before we land," commented JJ. Reid nodded.

"Alright. Wake me when we're back in Quantico, ok?" murmured Reid as his eye slid shut and his head lolled sideways to rest on the pillow he had wedged between his shoulder and the wall of the plane.

"You got it, Pretty Boy," said Morgan, watching Reid squirm as he attempted to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Reid sighed, his shoulders slumping as his body relaxed into the leather covered seat. As soon as his breathing began to even out and sleep began to claim him, however, the doubts and regrets came creeping back, flickering behind Reid's eyelids: a violin sitting unused in a corner, a pool of blood, wide, unseeing blue eyes, the unsub's leer as he reached for his gun and Rossi had been forced to shoot him. Reid's eyes shot open.

"Maybe we should play some cards or something instead," suggested Morgan softly, soothingly. He knew that look on Reid's face well enough by now. Reid nodded.

"Yeah, I think that would be a good idea," he said gruffly. He could do with a distraction.

-XXXXXXX-

The second Reid set foot in the club he knew he would hate it. Multi-colored lights flickered across the darkness of the dance floor, illuminating the writhing and grinding bodies below. Hip-hop was blasting out of strategically placed speakers so loudly that all Reid could really make out were the bass notes. It was the kind of music you felt rattling through your bones rather than heard, and to top this whole scene off, the whole place stank of sweat, urine, and vomit. Reid hated it. Morgan, on the other hand, looked quite pleased.

"Awesome," yelled Morgan, having to shout to be heard over the music. "It's a really good turn out tonight," he commented as he appreciatively eyed a particularly attractive cluster of women on the dance floor. Reid just shrugged.

"Oh, come on, Pretty Boy," said Morgan, draping an arm around the slender genius' shoulders and steering him towards the bar. "You'll have fun tonight. I promise."

"I doubt it…" grumbled Reid, recoiling in fear when a busty brunette in a ridiculously low cut dress winked at him.

"See, look at that. You're already getting some attention," congratulated Morgan. Reid frowned, opting to use the noise of the club as an excuse not to answer. He decidedly did not want that woman's attention.

"Yo," called Morgan as he pushed his way through the throng of people to the bar and tapped the counter for the bartender's attention. "One White Russian and a-"

"Cranberry juice," supplied Reid. No alcohol was part of his recovery program for his Dilaudid addiction.

"Cranberry juice," repeated Morgan to the bartender, who nodded and snatched a few glasses from beneath the counter.

"So," said Morgan, turning to lean his back against the bar as the bartender mixed their drinks, "You gonna go hit on that or not?" Morgan nodded towards the brunette who was still smiling flirtatiously at Reid. Reid shot the woman a frightened glance before emphatically shaking his head no.

"Nah," he mumbled. "I didn't come here to pick up women."

"What did you come here for then?" asked Morgan as he collected their drinks from the bartender and slid a bill across the counter to pay for them.

"To be with you," said Reid with a shrug. Morgan shot Reid a curious look, but didn't comment. Honestly, Morgan didn't know why that answer seemed strange to him. He had asked Reid to come after all, but it just seemed like there was more to it than that. He was probably just being paranoid. In a job that involved so much analyzing human behavior, it became easy to over analyze mundane things.

"No dancing, no picking up women. You're really limiting my options here aren't ya, Pretty Boy?" joked Morgan as he handed Reid his cranberry juice. Reid just shrugged, taking a sip of the crimson beverage and smacking his lips at the tangy flavor.

"I never said you couldn't do those things," he commented. "I just said I wasn't going to."

"True, true," nodded Morgan as he scanned the crowd around them, winking at a curvy girl across the bar who smiled appreciatively back from beneath heavily mascaraed lashes.

"You sure you don't wanna get a girl tonight, though, kid? 'Cause I bet that girl over there would be pretty impressed by some of those magic tricks of yours," said Morgan, gesturing towards a nearby girl. Reid just shook his head, barely even glancing over at the girl in question.

"No? Hmm… Well if she's not your type maybe that blonde over there would be better," Morgan tried again, tipping his head towards a pretty blonde swaying effortlessly on the dance floor.

"No. I really don't want to be set up, Morgan," said Reid through clenched teeth, his jaw tight with anger. He had come tonight to spend time with Morgan, and it didn't even seem like Morgan wanted to be with him. He just wanted to pawn Reid off on some girl so he could go flirt. Despite himself, Reid found himself jealous. All of those feelings towards Morgan that he'd been trying so hard not to examine suddenly came crashing down on him and it was too much.

"Ooh, what about her?" Morgan tried again, and Reid snapped. He was so tired of feeling helpless, of feeling like there was nothing he could do. There had been nothing he could do to save that girl, nothing he could do to prevent the desperate sobs wracking the girl's mother's frame when she had been told they'd found her daughter's cold, dead body, and now he felt there was no way to get Morgan's attention, to get the interest he wanted from the other man. There was nothing he could do about the case, but there was still time to do something about this situation with Morgan, to tell his fellow agent how he felt.

"No, Morgan!" shouted Reid, slamming his drink down on the counter so hard that cranberry juice sloshed over the sides to form a red pool on the counter's glossy surface. "I don't want to be with any of these women! I don't have the slightest interest in any of them! So could you please stop trying to force them on me? I don't want to be with them."

"Hey, shhh. I'm sorry, man. I didn't realize it was bothering you so much," said Morgan soothingly, laying a calming hand on Reid's bony shoulder.

"No, Morgan, you didn't realize. You never fucking realize. You're always so damn oblivious!" Morgan frowned. This didn't seem like they were talking about picking up women anymore. Reid was clearly very agitated: his slender fingers were balled up into fists and a muscle was spasming in his jaw. No minor irritation like having women thrust on him would draw a reaction like this out of the slender genius. This was something bigger.

"What are you talking about, Reid?" asked Morgan, bewildered.

"I don't want to be with any of these women because it's you I want to be with," Reid shouted then froze, his hazel eyes widening in shock at what his own mouth had just said. Morgan blinked. Had Reid really just said what he thought he said?

"Oh my god, Morgan, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said that," babbled Reid, panic etched across his sharp features. He wasn't able to ramble any further, however, because Morgan's mouth had enveloped his, hungry lips moving over Reid's as though attempting to devour him. Reid moaned, melting into Morgan's hold as the other man nipped gently at his lower lip. By the time Morgan pulled back, Reid had almost forgotten how to breathe.

"Why the fuck didn't you say something sooner, you idiot," Morgan chastised as he pulled Reid into a tight embrace. Reid licked his now bruised and swollen lips, breathing in Morgan's musky cologne.

"I thought you didn't like me like that," he murmured into Morgan's shoulder. "You're always checking out women. I had no idea-"

"That I like you? That I have been constantly finding little ways to spend more time with you, to touch you or brush against you? Geez, kid. Some kind of profiler you are."

"Hey!" protested Reid, pulling back to glare indignantly at Morgan. "I'm an excellent Profiler! We all just promised not to profile each other, remember? That's the only reason I didn't notice…"

"Suuureee…" said Morgan doubtfully. Spencer just pouted.

"It's not like you noticed I liked you either," he pointed out. Morgan laughed.

"True, true. Some pair of profilers we are, aren't we? It' a wonder we're so good at our jobs."

"Not good enough to save that girl today," muttered Reid, suddenly serious.

"There was nothing we could've done," said Morgan, frowning darkly. "There just wasn't enough time. Sometimes, no matter how good you are at your job, it just isn't enough. There are some people we won't be able to save, and that's just the way it is. It sucks, kid. I know. You know I wish just as much as you do for that not to be true, but you can't blame yourself for it. It's not your fault, Reid." Reid just nodded, pulling Morgan down into another kiss. Intellectually, he knew what Morgan had said was true, but he still felt guilty, still felt helpless. He still felt like there was something more he could have, should have done.

But tonight was not for regrets. Tonight was for Morgan's lips moving slowly, sensually over his. Tonight Reid would let himself forget his fears and his helplessness, for tonight he had Morgan. Tonight he had the perfect distraction.

*Author's Note: I can't imagine having a job as stressful as theirs... I would just freak out every time I wasn't able to save someone, and I wouldn't even have a chocolaty stud to make it all better for me like Reid does. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the story! Please review with any feedback you have! Thank you so much for reading!*