A/N: A newly made account and the first story posted in four years! I'm going to be painfully rusty!

But here's to my first Criminal Minds story. I just couldn't resist.

Warnings: This Story. (Haha, kidding! Minor language, possible out-of-character behavior.)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except for...the story.


When The Best Laid Plans Go Horribly, Horribly Wrong

"If there is a 50-50 chance that something can go wrong, then 9 times out of 10 it will" -Paul Harvey


It was small at first.

A little incessant pressure, tingling and warm, sloshing around every time he jerked his knee or swiveled in his chair. Of course he couldn't swivel far—not with the pair of handcuffs attaching his ankle to the leg of his desk.

Reid had tried to stay calm; pretend everything was fine and that he would not break. He completed his paperwork at a much slower pace, attention torn between the handcuffs keeping him locked in place and the stupid, persistant begging of his bladder for release.

Six hours.

For six hours he'd been sitting, trapped at his desk with a bladder full of water, orange juice, and four cups of coffee. He wasn't trained to hold his pee for long periods of time. He was used to being able to stand up, walk to a bathroom, and relieve himself at his own leisure.

But Derek Morgan had taken that privilege away. With a wide grin and little metal key, Morgan had taken all hopes of a relaxing day of paperwork and comraderie in the bullpen, and pocketed it in his pants.

All because of Reid's prank.

A well executed prank—in Reid's humble opinion—in retribution for Morgan giving out his name and number and causing an overwhelming amount of phone calls to bombard his cell.

It had started out as a normal enough morning.

Reid met Morgan at the door of the FBI headquarters, they greeted one another with a little banter, and took the elevator to their floor. They sat at their desks, occasionally chatting but for the most part working, as the clock hand went from 8:00am to 11:00am. Morgan and Prentiss went out for lunch, Reid politely declined the offered and went to get his fourth cup of coffee. When his two colleagues came back within the next hour, Reid thought nothing of Morgan hanging by his desk to set a box of take-out a burger and fries in front him and talk about Hotchner, and how the man never really smiled anymore, and how much they'd hate to be an unsub on his bad side.

"It's the eyebrows," Prentiss had commented. "They're really imposing. They make his eyes look harsh."

"They are harsh," Morgan had refuted.

When the man of their discussion came out of his office to visit Rossi all three immediately quieted. Hotchner shut the door of Rossi's office behind him, not bothering to spare any of them a glance.

Serious business then.

Seeing this, Prentiss went back to work and Reid grabbed the box of take-out Morgan had given him, intending to eat before finishing his current file.

Morgan, however, knelt by Reid's chair with a softly exclaimed: "Damn, my shoe came undone again!"

Reid didn't bother to look at his friend, digging a couple of fries from beneath his burger instead. "What's wrong with your shoes?" he asked. He heard Morgan fumbling with something in his hands and thought little of it.

"The laces are crap. They never stayed tied for more than a couple minutes."

"Sounds faulty."

"Ah well, what are you gonna do?" Morgan casually replied.

And that was when Reid heard the tell-tale sound of a cuff being closed. He had seconds to lower his take-out in surprise before he felt another cuff close tight around his ankle.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, voice a little higher than normal.

Morgan straightened, grinning broadly. "Whoops. My hand must've slipped." He stood and ruffled Reid's hair, ignoring the look of utter rage on the young agent's face. "Think of it as a present, for your gift to me on the plane last week."

"Morgan!" Reid snapped, pushing back in his chair. Or at least attempting to. The chair flew back perfectly fine. Reid, however, made it three inches away from his desk and then hit the ground.

All heads in the bullpen curiously swung their way. Prentiss peered over her desk at him but not far enough to notice the handcuffs attaching Reid to his own desk leg.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Reid muttered, gingerly getting to his feet. He blindly reached behind him for his chair—and thank God for his long arms—otherwise he might not have been able to get it back without drawing more attention to his current predicament.

Morgan laughed loudly as Reid slowly sat back down. "Any time you've had enough, just say the words," he taunted. 'I'm the best' he mouthed. 'I win'.

Reid tried very hard not to growl, red in the face from embarrassment and anger. How could have been caught off guard like that?! Oh, that's right- because he didn't think Morgan would buy him lunch as some sort of ruse!

"This is a new low," he scowled. "Even for you."

"Even for me? Wow, I'm really hurt," Morgan said, eyebrows raised along with his hands. He headed back to his own desk and plopped down, having the gall to look wounded.

Reid, so incredibly incensed, chucked his box of take-out at Morgan's head. He threw too low and hit the side of the agent's desk instead. Lettuce, fries, and a partially eaten burger burst all over the floor.

"Reid!" Prentiss exclaimed.

Morgan was laughing so hard that he had to clutch his side from the cramp forming. He waved off Prentiss's concern. "I've got it," he wheezed. "Don't worry."

"Morgan," Reid tightly said. "You can't imagine the reprecussions if you don't give me the key."

"I think I'll manage," Morgan chuckled.

And with that the older agent cleaned up the mess Reid had made, whistling jovially throughout the entire process before happily seating himself at his desk and digging into his paperwork.

Prentiss glanced between them, a little unsure of what was going on. Reid's anger seemed to come from nowhere, of course she could also see that Morgan had done something. He looked far too pleased with himself. She contemplated getting involved, and then thought better of it. Whatever game they were playing was already in full swing.

Two hours had passed since then, leaving Reid to his current predicament.

He couldn't tell Morgan that he'd played a better prank—that he bested Reid with a cheap trick and some food—he had far more pride than that. And he wasn't going to tell Prentiss so she could solve the problem for him.

No. He'd show Morgan that this prank was nothing to brag about; that it hadn't even gotten to him despite the pain in his abdomen telling him he better get to a toilet or risk a liver explosion.

By the time the clock rolled around three, Reid had all but given up on finishing any reports.

Instead he slouched back in his chair, one hand pressed to the side of his head, the other gripping the chair arm hard enough to leave marks. His mind was filled with thoughts of toilets and his bladder and how Morgan would be lucky to have his face intact once he got his hands on him. He spent the next five minutes with a pensive glower on his face.

Prentiss, diligently working across from him, finally looked up to see what was wrong with her friend. She was surprised to see Reid glaring absently her way so angrily. "What?" she jokingly questioned. "Did I do something wrong?"

Reid's glower only grew darker. "No Emily. You didn't."

Prentiss blinked. Reid had a tendency to place people on a first-name basis when he was really upset. She set down her pen and leaned forward, hoping to get the bottom of Reid's bad mood. "Well is something else bothering you? Maybe I could help you out."

"Go kill Morgan," Reid morbidly replied. "That'll help."

Prentiss warily eyed him. "I...don't think that's best."

"Hey, kid," Morgan called from his own seat, "just admit that I've got you beat and end your suffering. You look like you're in pain."

"I am in pain," Reid seethed.

Now Prentiss was visibly worried. "Should I call the hospital?"

"Yes. Tell them I'm dying."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" he said, even as he stood and walked over to undo the handcuffs. Clearly Reid was no longer in the joking mood. For a second Morgan wondered if he'd gone a bit far in his payback, but he quickly shook that thought away.

As soon as the cuffs were removed Reid pushed back and flew from his chair, booking it for the bullpen doors.

"Reid?" Morgan frowned and ran after him, hot on his young friend's heels.

Reid scowled as Morgan's clambering footsteps reached his ears. He all but sprinted towards the hallway doors. Prentiss looked after the fleeing pair, bewildered. Anderson, who'd been passing by, paused at her desk, file in hand, watching baffled at the scene.

"What was that about?" he questioned.

Prentiss raised her hands, eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline as if to say 'Don't ask me'.

~x~

Back in his office, Hotcher allowed his gaze to briefly move towards his blinds and out into the bullpen.

Reid's chair was still spinning.

Hotcher sighed and turned his attention back to the file in front him. He had hoped the agents' pranking had come to an end over the weekend but if anything it had only escalated. Though he wasn't above letting them have a little light-hearted fun, he really needed to remind them that the bullpen was far from an appropiate place to do so.

~x~

Reid luckily made it down the hall, all but throwing himself into the men's bathroom and stumbling towards a urinal. He hurried to pull down his zipper, furrowing his eyebrows when it caught on his pants and refused to go any farther.

"No, no, no, no, no," he frantically whined. "Come on!" He desperately tugged at the zipper, near tears. The bathroom door then swung open and Morgan worriedly came in.

"Reid, are you okay man? I-" he paused.

All anger lost in the face of this new problem, Reid turned around and said, "My zipper's stuck."

"Your zipper?" Morgan was confused. "So you weren't sick or anything? You just had to use the bathroom?"

"Really bad!" Reid scowled. "Could you at least help me get this thing undone instead of staring?"

"Sure, I guess," Morgan replied. He stood before his friend and took hold of the flimsy zipper. He gave it a few tugs and frowned when nothing happened. "Wow. It's stuck."

"Obviously!"

"Hold on, lemme-" Morgan stopped. Reid stopped. They both stared at the zipper in Morgan's hand.

"Oh my God," Reid whispered, horrified.

Morgan chuckled uneasily. "It's just a zipper," he said, tossing it carelessly to the side. "Now we can pull your stupid pants apart."

Reid looked horrified. "Wait-!"

But Morgan had already stuck a tiny portion his pointer finger into the small hole where the zipper had once been. He thoughtfully stopped. "I can't get it any further in. Damn kid, what kinda zipper is this?"

"Get your finger out!" Reid snapped, pushing at the older agent.

"Wait, wait, wait! My finger's caught on something." Morgan tried to free his finger. He succeeded only in pulling Reid closer. He pushed the younger agent back with his other hand and held him there as he attempted again to get his finger out. "What the hell...? I can't get it out."

Reid opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance as the bathroom door opened and Rossi walked in.

"What in God's name is going on here?" he demanded.

He stopped when he saw the pair. An unreadable expression came across his face. His lips moved but no words were said. Words didn't need to be said. Morgan rolled his eyes.

"It's not what it looks like Rossi."

"Then please, do explain," the older man said.

Reid began rambling in frustration. "Morgan thought he was playing a funny prank on me for that incident on the plane but it went horribly wrong because I was stuck to my desk unable to use the bathroom with a full bladder for over six hours and then my zipper got stuck and Morgan came and screwed things up even more and now he's stuck too and I'm going to relieve myself all over the both of us in the next few minutes if someone doesn't get him off me and LET ME PEE!" he exploded.

"...Wow," Rossi said after a moment.

"Get this kid off me," Morgan said, "before he rips my balls off."

Rossi snorted. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried yet."

"Rossi," Reid urgently stressed.

"Alright, alright," he turned to leave. "I'll be back with a pair of scissors. Until then try to keep it down. I thought you were having sex."

Both men stared after Rossi open-mouthed before glancing at one another and then hurriedly averting their gaze. The next couple of minutes were spent in a terse silence, broken by a few scattered conversations here and there.

"I have to pee."

"Shut up."

"You shut up!"

Rossi returned soon after, brandishing a pair of scissors as promised. He walked to Reid and crouched beside the gangly pair of legs. Without hesitation he began cutting the fabric at the back of Reid's pants.

"What are you doing?" Reid confusedly asked.

"I don't want to risk cutting Morgan's finger. I'll get the entire top of your pants removed."

"That sounds a little impractical. You really have to cut the whole thing?"

Morgan scoffed. "Let the man do his thing, Reid."

Reid glared. "He wouldn't have to 'do his thing' if you hadn't gotten me into this mess."

"Oh, you wanna blame me?"

Rossi spoke before a full-blown argument could break out. "Look kid, I'm just gonna cut away your pants and let you do your thing and-"

"This is so humiliating!" Reid heatedly said, cutting him off. "I can't believe this is happening-"

"It's either this or you letting go all over yourself and Morgan," Rossi interrupted in return. "Which do you prefer?

A pained look twisted Reid's features. "Fine! Just-just do it quick a-and don't look!" he stuttered.

Rossi paused and glanced questioningly up. "Don't look?" The implication hit him hard. "Don't tell me...!"

Reid flushed in embarrassment.

Something close to digust and morbid fascination crossed Rossi's face- mostly disgust. "You went commando?"

Morgan nearly had a heart attack. "What?"

Reid yelped as Morgan tried to push away. "Ow! Quit pulling Morgan! What, I'm not allowed to do what you guys probably do on a daily basis?"

Rossi furrowed his eyebrows, disturbed. "We don't go commando on assignments and we most certainly don't go commando while sitting in the office here. What reason would we have to do that in a place like this?"

"To feel free? I don't know!" Reid exclaimed.

Rossi stared. "My God Reid!"

Morgan shook his head. "Uh-uh, no way!"

Reid scowled as his pants were roughly pulled on again. "Morgan!"

"This zipper is the only thing separating my finger from your crotch! Why didn't you tell me before I tried to help?"

"Because you shoved your hand down there without giving me the chance!"

Morgan turned his eyes to the cracked ceiling above. "Oh my God this cannot be happening to me..."

Reid gaped in disbelief. "Happening to you? This was your fault to begin with!"

"Don't try to pin this on me- you're the genuis who held his bladder in all day."

Reid's eyes turned to slits. "Really? You're gonna try and blame this on me? You handcuffed my leg to my desk!"

"You were asking for it!"

"I don't think the words 'Hey Morgan, please handcuff my ankle to the leg of my desk all day in retribution for a well-played prank' ever came out of my mouth just because you couldn't stand being one-upped by me!"

"You did not one-up me-"

"Guys, guys!" Rossi tried to get a handle on the situation before it could get any worse-not that he knew how it could-but found himself being tugged this way and that across the bathroom floor as Morgan tried to push away from Reid and Reid tried to pull in the opposite direction. Rossi, who had the scissors still halfway in Reid's pants, later claimed no responsibility over what happened next.

When the scissors stabbed a hole into Spencer Reid's right buttock.

Reid yelped in pain and surprise, but mostly pain, and jumped a mile high. Or at least he tried to. Morgan's mass kept him firmly on the ground. Reid swung his head towards Rossi, wearing a mild look of disbelief.

"You stabbed me," he said.

Rossi opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again. "It was purely accidental."

"...Am I bleeding?"

Rossi dropped his gaze to the tiles beneath their feet and the small spattering of blood where Reid and Morgan stood. He raised his gaze and offered a half smile. "Not as badly as you think."

Reid's eyes were suddenly very cold. "What I think is that a second hole has been made in my butt; one that does not excret fecal matter but matter of the homogenous kind."

Rossi's smile fell didn't falter. He did, however, consider relocating his sleeping arrangements elsewhere for the next couple of days. Reid had several favors to cash in with Garcia and was not above using them to get detailed instructions to his home. What the younger agent would do to him once inside his mansion...Rossi wasn't all too keen to find out.

Morgan was not put off by Reid's darkening mood. " Enough with the scientific crap," he said. "Just say your ass is bleeding and be done with it."

Reid's stare could make the sun implode on itself several times over. "Forgive me for trying to maintain my pride."

"What pride, man? The last time I saw it, it was leaking outta your butt."

"Well at least mine isn't stuck in the zipper of someone else's crotch!" Reid vehemently hissed.

Rossi stepped in before this could get any uglier. "Easy boys, how about we relax? Arguing won't get either of you out of this situation."

And just like that Morgan and Reid's anger towards one another came and went, and came full force onto Rossi.

"Either of us? I'm sorry," Reid glowered, "What about you?"

"Yeah, come on man," Morgan joined in, glaring. "Take some responsibility for your actions."

Rossi could only stare. "Unbelieveable," he said. Weren't they just inches away from tearing out each other's throats?

"What is going on in here?" a fourth voice dangerously cut in. It was oddly reminiscent of when Rossi walked in on them.

Rossi, Morgan, and Reid stopped at the sudden interruption and swung their heads towards the bathroom door. Aaron Hotcher looked at the trio, eyes hard, mouth grim, and eyebrows slightly raised. How he managed to look so angry while wearing such a look of confusion was beyond them-or anyone for that matter.

The three men in question exchanged hestitant looks, none of them quite sure what to say. In the end it was Reid who spoke, looking quite wounded as he pointed to Rossi and accusingly exclaimed, "Rossi stabbed me in the butt!"

Hotcher took that as his que to leave.

"Wait, wait!" Morgan cried. "You gotta help us!"

Hotcher paused. "Whatever it is that you've gotten yourselves into now I want no part of it." His eyes lowered to Morgan's finger caught in Reid's zipper and tried not to questioningly linger on the large flap cut out of Reid's pants.

It wasn't that hard for Hotcher to deduce what had happened for the most part. Several years ago he'd made the mistake of trying to help Reid tear his pant zipper off the seat of the SUV when it got snagged on his way out the vehical. The end result was eerily similar to the one he faced now, except back then Reid was missing the entire front of his pants by the time they were through, and the passenger seat of the SUV gained new patchwork. Words couldn't express how grateful Reid and Hotchner were that they'd been sent to give a lecture across the country on their own that weekend.

They really couldn't.

Hotchner sighed. "Morgan, can't you just pull your finger out?" he questioned.

"It's hooked onto something."

"Four safety pins," Reid mumbled. "It holds my pants together."

"Buy pants that fit you next time!" Morgan snapped.

Reid scowled for the fifth time that day. If looks could kill, Morgan would've been dead. "Not all of us can fill out our pants in tons of muscle and fat!"

"Kid, there ain't any fat on this body. Just muscle."

"That's what you think," Reid softly scoffed. "Couldn't bounce a nickel off your ass."

"What?" Rossi blinked.

Morgan frowned. "What?"

Hotchner sighed. "Reid."

"Now wait just a second," Morgan said, holding up his free hand. "Why were you throwing nickels at my ass?" He paused, a look of realization and rage crossing his features. "Is that what you were doing all last week?!"

Reid smirked. "Garcia talked me into it, and let me say she was severely disappointed to know that her 'chocolate thunder' wasn't as fit as she thought." Of course he was lying- nearly all the nickels came repelling back in his direction- but he wasn't about to tell Morgan that.

Morgan scowled and decided his one free hand was better put to use around Reid's neck. It would've been comical had Reid not stumbled back and pinned Rossi to the row of sinks behind them, which automatically shut on and continuously shot jet after jet of cold and hot water onto his sleeves. Hotcher tried to pull Morgan off from the other side- he really did- but he wasn't above admitting that Morgan was just a tad bit stronger.

In the end Reid explosively peed on both Rossi and Morgan, Hotchner missing the 'Spray-zone' by mere centimeters.

Morgan and Rossi yelled while Reid slumped in sweet relief. Hotcher back against a stall, taken aback by his inability to control the situation.

And that was how agent Anderson found them.

For two weeks afterwards none of the men within SSA Hotcher's unit could stand to be in close proximity for longer than a minute. When they stood to go to the bathroom only bad memories came into their heads of scissors and blood, screams and urine.

Needless to say no more pranks were played among the members of the BAU. Nor was it brought up. Ever.


"While seeking revenge, dig two graves- one for yourself." -Douglas Horton


A/N: Well...I tried. I know this kind of situation is highly unlikely.

But I hope I made at least one person snort at the ridiculousness that is this story :D