Write about someone who just woke up (maybe after a wild night of drinking- or a wild night of reading books at the library) to find a stranger on their living room couch.

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Stranger Danger

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Reid groaned as a beam of sunlight seared through his eyelids and burned his retinas. He pulled his blanket over his head, groaning again at the harsh pounding in his temple. He placed his hand over his eyes as he struggled to push himself upright and out of bed. He grumpily closed the blinds and slowly lowered his hand, squinting around the slightly dimmer room.

"What the hell?" He grunted as he stumbled into his bathroom, one hand holding his head and the other trailing along the wall to keep him from tipping over. Reid fumbled with the door handle, grunting in satisfaction when he finally managed to twist it open. He hesitated just inside the door, debating the merits of turning the light on before he sighed and flicked the switch.

"Shit!" He hissed, blinking back tears to clear his vision. His stomach rolled dangerously as his head gave another vicious throb. Reid dove for the toilet, getting there just in time for the first volley of vomit. He choked and sputtered, his throat burning with the awful taste as he desperately tried to figure out what had happened to him.

Reid finished emptying his stomach and hauled himself shakily back to his feet. He sluggishly grabbed his toothbrush and turned the tap on the right of his sink, wetting his toothbrush before he put toothpaste on it and shoved it into his mouth. He brushed his teeth diligently and spat in the sink rinsing his mouth out as he put his toothbrush away. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowned.

His hair was knotted in some places and defying gravity in others. There were dark circles around his eyes and he was pale and sickly looking. He twisted his head to the side, glaring at the obvious hickey on his neck. Right, he needed answers and he needed them now. So, what was the last thing he remembered? Reid walked back to his room, changing his clothes as he tried to think back to last night.

He remembered going out with the team. They had just gotten back from a long case and had decided to unwind together. They had gone out to eat at a Chinese place, Reid remembered because they had tried to teach him how to use chopsticks, again, and he had failed spectacularly, again. Reid wandered into the hallway, grabbing his cell as he left his room, heading to the kitchen to make his first cup of coffee of the day as he tried to remember what happened after that.

Reid filled the coffee pot with water, poured the water into the opening at the top, filled a new filter with coffee, and closed the top, waiting for it to brew. He put some bread in a toaster, sighed, and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number and waited patiently for the person to answer.

"Morgan," Morgan grunted into the phone.

"Morgan, it's Reid," Reid said.

"Reid!" Morgan chuckled. "How are you, pretty boy? You went pretty wild last night. Get enough drinks in ya and you turn into a beast." Reid frowned, reaching into a cupboard to pull out a coffee mug.

"What are you talking about? What happened?" Reid asked.

"You don't remember?" Morgan asked incredulously.

"If I remembered I wouldn't have to ask you what happened last night," Reid grumbled. Morgan snorted in amusement.

"I bet you haven't had your first cup of coffee and that's why you're so grumpy," Morgan teased. Reid blushed slightly.

"Shut up," he grumbled, listening to Morgan laugh at the other end. "Seriously, though. What happened last night? I remember going out to dinner and then I was here, waking up with an awful headache." Toast popped out of the toaster and Reid grabbed a plate. He put the toast on the plate and began making his coffee as he waited for Morgan to answer.

"We all went to a club," Morgan began. "There were some drinks involved. Lots of drinks. It's a little blurry for me too, so I'm not sure about everything but I know you downed shots like they were water."

"What?" Reid squeaked. He never drank like that when they went out together. "How many did I take?"

"I don't know, man. Enough to get you shakin' it on the dance floor. You never told us you can dance," Morgan accused.

"That's because I can't!" Reid exclaimed, taking a bite of his toast as he shook his head incredulously.

"Well, drunk you certainly can," Morgan snickered. Reid rolled his eyes and sipped at his still steaming coffee.

"Drunk me and sober me are the same, Morgan, and neither of us can dance," Reid insisted, taking another bite of his toast.

"Tell that to the video Garcia took on her phone."

"There are videos! Why did you let her take videos?"

"Hey! I was busy dancin' too, pretty boy. Couldn't let you steal all the attention," Morgan teased.

"Ugh," Reid groaned. "This is so embarrassing. So we went to a club, I got incredibly drunk, made a fool of myself, and then someone drove me home?"

"I don't actually know that part. You kind of disappeared on us for a while. We called you when we realized you had left. You made it home safe but you were too out of it to make much sense so we told you to go to sleep," Morgan admitted. Reid frowned.

"Then how did I get home," he asked as he walked into his living room. He rounded the couch and reached for the TV remote. He froze when a loud snore sounded from behind him. Reid slowly turned around and stared in confusion at the random person sleeping on his couch.

"Morgan?" Reid breathed, wide eyes locked on the sleeping face of a middle aged man with brown hair, and tan skin.

"-when you find out you'll have to tell me all about-"

"Morgan," Reid whispered, slowly backing out of the living room. He quickly made his way to his bedroom, closed and locked the door, and snatched up his gun, flicking the safety off.

"-not do it again, though. I was worried sick that something had happened-"

"Morgan!" Reid snapped.

"What?" Morgan grumbled.

"There's someone in my apartment," Reid said quietly, pressing his ear against the closed door.

"What?" Morgan asked, more alert.

"There's someone in my house. They're sleeping on my couch. I don't know who they are."

"Shit. I'm coming over. Do you have your gun? Where the fuck are my shoes? Reid, your gun?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, I have it. I locked myself in my room. He's still sleeping, I think. Maybe I should just go see who he is," Reid murmured.

"Fuck, no you shouldn't! Jesus, kid. You don't just wake up strange men who break into your house! Didn't your momma teach you about stranger danger? Wait for me. I'll be five minutes," Morgan insisted.

"How are going to get here in five minutes? You live 35 minutes away, Morgan," Reid sighed.

"Shut up, Reid. Don't do anything until I get there," Morgan ordered.

"I'm going to go wake him up," Reid decided, unlocking the door and opening it slowly.

"Reid, don't you dare. I swear to God," Morgan warned.

"I'll be fine, Morgan. I'll call you back in a minute."

"No! Spencer, do not hang up this phone!" Morgan shouted.

"Don't worry. I have my gun," Reid said.

"Damn it, Reid! Just wait until I get-" Reid hung up the phone and quietly padded down the hallway, gun held out in front of him. He slowly headed towards the living room where the man was still sleeping and rounded the couch to look at him. Reid grabbed a pillow off of the floor and threw it at the man's head to wake him up.

"FBI, stay where you are and put your hands in the air," Reid ordered as the man jerked awake. The man blinked blearily at him, slowly raising his hands.

"What? What's happening?" He asked in confusion.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" Reid demanded. The man looked around him before focusing back on Reid.

"What?" Reid sighed.

"Who are you?" He asked again.

"Uh, Alex?" The man said hesitantly.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Reid asked.

"Telling you?" Reid raised an eyebrow at him.

"Telling you." The man nodded firmly.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Reid demanded, gun still trained at Alex's chest.

"Uh, could you maybe stop pointing that gun at me?" Alex asked nervously. Reid hesitated before lowering the gun. "Thanks. I, uh, brought you home. We met at the club last night. We danced. You threw up on my shoes. I offered you a ride. On the way here I got a flat tire. You said we were about two minutes from your place so I kept driving and you said I could crash on your couch and call someone in the morning to come fix it." Reid narrowed his eyes at Alex, thinking quickly.

"I do vaguely remember something about tires," he said slowly. Alex snickered and Reid glared at him. "I can still shoot you, you know."

"But you won't," Alex shrugged.

"You hope so?" Reid asked.

"I know-"

"FBI, freeze!" Reid's door was slammed in and Morgan came running in, gun drawn. Alex spun around in surprise and Reid jumped, his hand tightening around his own gun as he brought it up.

"Morgan! What are you doing?" Reid asked exasperatedly.

"Making sure you don't do anything stupid," Morgan snapped back. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get some answers out of Alex."

"Who's Alex?"

"Hi. My name is Alex," Alex introduced himself. Morgan glared at him.

"What are you doing in Reid's apartment?" Morgan demanded.

"Morgan, I already went over this. It's fine. He just needs to call someone to fix his tire and then he's leaving."

"Well, I'm staying until he goes. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into if I left you alone with him," Morgan decided. Reid rolled his eyes, clicking the safety back on on his gun and shoving it into the waistband of his pants.

"Fine, Morgan. Just don't drink any of my coffee!" Reid said. He turned to Alex and shrugged.

"So do you have anyone you can call?" Reid asked.

"Yeah, I have a buddy who can fix it for me. It shouldn't take him long to get here," Alex said, pulling out his phone.

"Well, you're welcome to wait here until he comes," Reid offered. Alex glanced at Morgan who was glaring at him and shook his head.

"I think I'll wait outside. Less of a chance of getting shot out there," Alex joked. Morgan snorted.

"Damn right," he agreed quietly. Reid rolled his eyes and waved at Alex.

"Well, thanks for driving me home. That was nice of you."

"Thanks for letting me stay over." Alex grinned and walked out of the front door, closing it behind him. Reid turned to raise one eyebrow at Morgan who shrugged.

"What?" Morgan asked.

"Did you have to kick my door in?" Reid asked. Morgan grinned.

"Probably not," he shrugged. "Did you say something about coffee earlier?" Morgan asked, heading towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, I did. I also said something about you not having any," Reid added as he followed behind Morgan.

"Aww, come on, pretty boy. I just saved your life! The least you could do is let me have a cup of coffee."

"You didn't do anything but possibly break my door!" Morgan smirked.

"Whatever, man. I'm having some coffee." Reid glared as Morgan made himself some of his coffee.

"Alex was wrong," Reid grumbled as he poured himself another cup.

"About what?" Morgan asked as he watched Reid pour a ton of sugar into his cup.

"Me shooting people. I'm tempted to shoot you and blame it on self-defense," Reid grumbled.

"Defense against what?" Morgan asked, a smile twitching at his lips.

"In defense of my coffee." Morgan laughed and Reid smirked as he sipped at his own cup of steaming coffee.