"Hey, Pretty Boy. How was your vacation?"

Dr. Spencer Reid merely glared up at Derek Morgan through his dark sunglasses and retorted dryly, "I don't think my personal life is of your business."

"Calm down, kid," Morgan grinned, sitting on the edge of Reid's desk. "Just tryin' to talk to a friend."

"Sorry, I'm just…not up to much conversation today."

Morgan took a closer look at his young friend. His eyes were bloodshot behind the shades, and his forehead was crinkled tight – whether in worry or confusion, who besides Reid knew? The brown hair that was always in neat disarray was now a plain disheveled mess; rumpled clothes hung off his lanky form. And the trash bin beside the desk contained a minimum of five Styrofoam cups, freshly-emptied of coffee.

"Reid? What happened? Wait, don't tell me. You got all wild over in Vegas?"

"I'm just really hungover, alright, Morgan? Please drop it. Please. Would you stop being so damn loud? I just told you I'm hungover!" he hissed as his friend laughed, the sound hitting Reid's ears as if it were a hammer to his brain.

A familiar, inquisitive voice broke in, "What? Our resident genius got drunk over the weekend?"

"Shut up, for Christ's sake, would ya, Prentiss?"

The three others who were entering the bullpen stopped in their tracks and stared at the young man. He had never snapped at any of them before. Well, minus the time he was having extreme withdrawals from Dilaudid a few years back. Unfortunately, the team remembered those days vividly, and that's where their minds jumped when they heard his outburst.

"What's going on here?" Aaron Hotchner probed, a dark eyebrow raised.

"Reid here got plastered while he was on vacation."

As the subject in question trained angry eyes on Emily, Hotch barely suppressed his sigh of relief. "Looks like JJ's got a case. Let's go."

"Morgan?"

"Yea, Pretty Boy?"

Reid waited until everyone else was well beyond earshot before he continued in a small voice, "There's something else I never said about, um, my time away."

"What's that?"

"I, um, well…" He held up his left hand, showing off the plain silver band on his fourth finger guiltily, "I got married."