So this is basically the same as the usual team, only sans Morgan, he is just a regular cop in this

DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds, I am merely borrowing characters for the writing of this fic, and do not make any financial gain from this.

"Why did I listen to them, seriously, every time I swear I won't get pulled on another one of their nights out but yet again, here I am" Spencer Reid thought to himself as he knocked back the last of his third Brandy and Ginger Ale of the night.

The team had just finished a kidnapping case in Miami, Florida and the girls had convinced him to sample the night life of the Sunshine state before their trip back to wet cool Virginia. He wished he had stayed at the hotel with Rossi and Hotch, who had gracefully bowed out of the night out claiming fatigue, though, if Spencer were to guess their whereabouts at this moment of time, he would put his money on the hotel bar, relaxing watching a game of some sort with a few beers. Leaving him to be the only man to go with the girls on the night out. Garcia had been called in half way through the case to leave the cosy confines of her "lair" as she referred to it, to join the team in Miami, meaning that Reid was bullied by three women rather than the usual two.

Though there had always been a dynamic. He and JJ would act as wing-men to Prentiss, who tended to receive more than her fair share of men in bars and clubs, as did JJ, but with a doting husband waiting for her back in Quantico, she never took anyone up on their offer. Once Prentiss would ensnare a man to dance with, JJ would usually remain with her best friend at the table and engage him in conversations revolving around the escapades of her son, his godson. It was a topic of mutual interest; and often one of the only subjects to lighten the mood after severely horrific cases as they regaled the child's more ridiculous antics. However with Garcia here, JJ had a willing dance partner and the last thing anyone could ever call Penelope Garcia, was a wallflower. Leaving Spencer to be left on his own, staring at the women on the dance floor.

"I am far to sober for this!" he acknowledged to himself, heading to the bar for a double brandy, hoping that getting tipsy would make him feel less self-conscious and make the evening pass a little more comfortably. He signalled the barmaid, who told him she needed to get more ice and promised to serve him once she returned. He turned around from the bar, to look at the floor once again to ensure his friends were still there. Sure enough, Prentiss was still dancing with her pick of the men, while Garcia and JJ attempted to, what he assumed by the lyrics of the song playing was "Get Low, Low, Low, Low" He raised an eyebrow, both women had been downing double vodka's for over an hour between dances, and their version of getting low, was getting sloppy, he noted to himself that he should keep an eye on them to make sure it didn't involve them getting acquainted too much with the floor!

He looked back to the bar, hoping the barmaid had returned. Others had made their way to the bar now in hopes of getting their beverages. He glanced at the other patrons, silently profiling them as he waited out of no other reason but sheer boredom. A young Hispanic couple, clearly together a while going by their comfort levels with one another, facing into each other, the man playing with his partner's hair as she giggled something in his ear. The man's widening pupils indicating the nature of her comment. A man in his mid to late twenties, who was quite drunk and mouthing about the waitress being gone for ages, though he had only arrived in the brief moment that Spencer had been checking on the girls. He made note to avoid that man for the rest of the night in the bar. Then there were two women, one Caucasian, and one of Caribbean descent, most likely Barbados he noted, based on her accent. Both were flirtatious and scantily dressed and exceptionally loud, but not aggressive, just annoying. He followed their stares to the object of their attention.

Immediately Spencer could see why they were flirtatious and unable to string coherent sentences together. To his left stood a six foot tall dark skinned Adonis. Muscles protruded from his tight fitting shirt at the arms and shoulders. He was positive that if you were to remove the shirt, you would be facing a stomach that could only be described as a washboard. Spencer bit his lip as he felt heat flowing to his groin while he stared at the man. He raised his head so to look further up the man's body. He reached the man's neck and all that kept running through his usually highly functioning brain was how much he would love to nip and kiss it. His eye's continued north, noting the perfect shape of his jawline, a perfectly groomed goatee surrounding plump perfect lips, as he made his way higher up the man's face he came to his eyes, and fear coursed through each and every blood vessel in his body.

The man he was staring at was looking him straight in the eye. He could see Spencer blatantly gawping at him. The man had one eyebrow cocked over his deliciously chocolate coloured eyes. They held each other's gaze. Neither of them was blinking or looked away. Both staring into the others eyes, and for once in his life, neither Spencer's profiling skills or highly intelligent brain seemed capable of computing anything on the other man's face, he could not tell what emotions the man was portraying.

Finally, the barmaid returned and headed straight for him. "So sunshine, same again?" It wasn't much, but enough to snap him out of his temporary state of paralysis. He blinked, looked at the man in front of him for a moment longer, and just rushed off towards the restrooms.

Once inside a cubicle he finally noticed the burning heat in his face as he blushed violently. He decided after a few minutes to brave the club again, just long enough to tell the girls he was feeling tired and that he was getting a cab back to the hotel.

He washed his hands and walked out the bathroom door. There was a small hallway leading back into the club and blocking the was the dark-skinned Demi-God he had been caught staring at minutes before, in his hands were a bottle of beer and what looked suspiciously like a Brandy and Ginger Ale.

When the other man noticed him, he smiled the most amazing smile Spencer had ever seen and extended his hand with the brandy in it to the shocked agent. "You waited long enough for that girl to come back to get your drink, I wanted to apologise for my embarrassing behaviour earlier, I shouldn't have been staring at you like that. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm Derek by the way" his voice velvet like and smooth. Again Spencer found blood pooling to a particular part of his anatomy as he listened to the man speak.

Survival instinct told him not to take drink from a stranger "Eh, thanks. Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure I should take that from you" as usual, he lacked any panache in what he was implying.

"Normally I would agree completely with what you are saying and I would go insane if either of my sisters ever took a drink off some random guy in a bar, but I have come across the side effects of such things in my line of work and I have had a drink spiked before, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone".

Spencer could see the man was being honest; being a profiler had far more positive sides than negative. Though there were times Spencer wished he didn't know when someone was lying or being honest.

He reached out for the drink, "Thanks, I know when people are being honest, and you seem to be telling the truth. I'm Spencer" the only reason he was able to smile was the smile on Derek's face. The man's smile was contagious. "And I hadn't noticed any staring"

"That's because you were busy doing some of your own, I noticed Pretty Boy" Derek's smile turned into a wolfish grin as he revealed that he had noticed Spencer eyeing him up at the bar. Spencer, who had been taking a drink of his brandy spluttered and choked into it and began to blush deeply again. "Don't be shy; I'm flattered you'd even consider me worth looking at, how bout we get out of here and talk, rather than attempt to yell above the music"

"I, eh, I came with friends" Derek's face fell slightly, signifying his disappointment. "Give me a few minutes to find them and tell them I'm heading off, alright" the older man beamed another glorious smile in response.

Spencer walked into the main part of the night club again and quickly caught sight of JJ and Garcia dancing somewhat ridiculously on the dance floor. He rushed over to them. Usually being touched by so many people he didn't know and being on a dance floor would annoy him but he was so determined to make his way back to Derek, he didn't care. He gently tapped them on the shoulders, and in their semi-drunken states thought it meant he was joining them for a dance and would not let go of him.

After a few attempts to get away, he felt a gentle tug on his arm, he looked around to see Derek holding him. Electrical surges shot through his arm and sent an amazing sensation through his body in the simple contact. "Sorry ladies, but I'm afraid Spencer and I are leaving for the evening. I hope you both have a wonderful night and please let Spencer know when ye arm home safely" The girls looked from one man to the other, both aghast, unsure if their eyes were playing tricks on them. Once they let go, Spencer walked off hand in hand with the man, leaving the two women speechless and open mouthed on the dance floor.

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