Author's Note: This story is censored to comply with Fanfiction's policy on MA content. Portions of the story have been censored (by the author) for explicit content. An explanation for the censorship is also included in the profile.

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Spencer concluded that the evening couldn't get any worse. "And your name again?"

"Reid, Dr. Spencer Reid." There was a small chuckle.

"And your age?"

"I'm 28," he said in a bored manner, they'd gone over this at least three times already.

"Right ... try that again minus 12 years." Spencer huffed in exasperation. "Well, we need to call your parents since you don't have any ID on you. What say you dial and I'll talk to them?" The cop smiled at him in a patronising manner and moved the phone base toward him.

The young agent rolled his eyes, two could play this game. "My parents live out of state so I'm going to call the guy who's in charge of me." It wasn't a lie.

"Your guardian?" Spencer didn't reply. Since he couldn't call Hotch for obvious reasons, he resigned to dialling Rossi's number.

"Yes, hi, I'm calling from the police department. I've got a young man here by the name of Spencer Reid that says you're his guardian," the officer paused, listening to the older man on the other side of the line, his brow furrowed in confusion, "Well since he doesn't have any ID on his person I need you to verify who you are and who he is before we release him." The police officer hung up and turned to him. "He said he'd be here in half an hour. So do you want to tell me again what happened in that club?"

Spencer dropped his head into his hands, he was wrong; the evening could get much worse.

Rossi hung up the phone. He chuckled at the thought of Reid being mistaken for a minor. Frowning, he wondered why Reid would call him and why the kid didn't have any ID on him. He grabbed his keys and badge and walked out the door.

As Spencer waited for Rossi to arrive, he thought about the events that had gotten him into this predicament. Despite what Morgan thought, Reid liked to go clubbing. He just didn't like to go clubbing in the types of places Morgan did. Being that the types of clubs he went to catered to a less than heterosexual crowd. But this time, Friday night found him and his boyfriend dancing at one of the smaller but newer places that had yet to establish its flavour. He was having fun making out with his boyfriend in a dark corner; his partner's body pressed against him as the beat of the music shook the walls around them. Everything was going well, so well that he didn't notice three undercover cops sneaking towards them. The next thing he heard was, "Get your filthy hands off of him you scumbag!" One of the men grabbed Spencer and tried to haul him away but his boyfriend refused to let go.

"What the hell?" his lover grappled with the man as Spencer yelled for help, at the same time one of the cops yelled at him to, "Get his fucking hands off the kid and get down on the ground!" Confusion reigned. Some of the club goers screamed and a nearby bouncer waded into the fray. One of the cops stumbled to the floor and another officer struck his mate over the head. The next thing the young agent knew he was being herded toward a police car as they shoved his staggering partner towards another.

Morgan's curiosity was piqued as he walked up to the entrance of the club. A uniformed officer was standing at the door watching couple of detectives get into their cars. Flashing his credentials he asked, "What's all this about?'

The officer motioned to the club, "Vice thinks they just picked up the guy who's been assaulting minors sneaking into the club."

A couple of club goers passed him, speaking loudly, "Oh My God! Did you see that man? I'd let him molest me any day!"

The other girl replied, "Totally! Did you see the kid? I'm not much for jailbait, but whoa! He was hot!"

Morgan looked at the officer who rolled his eyes at the two women, "Kid?"

"Yeah, they're taking him to the station too." He waved toward the cars preparing to leave. Morgan turned and received the shock of his life. He watched as the undercover cars pulled away; the one nearest to him revealing a shell shocked Spencer Reid staring out of the window.

Spencer looked up from his seat against the wall as Rossi walked into the station. The older man took one look at the young agent and whistled. "No wonder they think you're a high school student." Spencer was dressed in a deep green tank top that barely reached his waist and skin tight black jeans that rode sinfully low on his narrow hips. His tousled locks were artfully styled and the eyeliner he had on gave him a naive quality which definitely made him look far younger than he was. The glistening lip gloss and worn Converse only contributed to the jailbait couture.

"Well, let's talk to the officer in charge and clear this up." Rossi moved toward the desk where a detective was eyeing him warily.

"Uh, Rossi? Not that I want to make this any worse, but ..."

"Too late." A voice cut in as Reid hesitated.

"Morgan! What are you doing here?" Reid squeaked. His chest tightened as he realised that yes, there were even worse things than Rossi finding out. At least Reid was sure the older man had suspected something already and was keeping quiet about it. But Morgan was going to blow his top when he found out.

"Reid, I just happened to be at the club and saw you in one of the cars as they left. The officer told me you'd been assaulted. What the hell happened?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," the detective cut in, he looked at Rossi, "We need to get your kid's statement. He just keeps saying he was there with his boyfriend. Besides that we got nothing cause the perp's not talking either."

Morgan eyebrows went up as he simultaneously processed the fact that Reid had a boyfriend and mouthed to Rossi 'your kid?' The older agent pulled out his badge, "Apparently Reid doesn't have any ID on him and they think he's a minor. So they had him call his 'guardian' to pick him up."

The detective looked baffled as Derek broke into gales of laughter. "Hell, pretty boy, I'd mistake you for student in that outfit." Reid managed to look indignant. The man pulled out his badge and they both showed their credentials to the cop.

Rossi cleared his throat, "So I hope you realise that Dr. Reid here is definitely not underage and that this is a very big misunderstanding."

The detective's face paled. "Damn," turning, he addressed Reid, "so the guy we've got is really your boyfriend and not our perp?"

"Yes," the young doctor said tersely, "Where is he?"

"Shit! We hadn't had time to process him due to a bar fight down near the arena. So they put him in one of the interrogation rooms." The man scurried off to a set of rooms on the opposite side of the station and yanked open one of the doors.

The three agents rushed over as they heard raised voices and another detective burst out of the room shouting at the occupant, "Fucking homo!"

Reid watched as Rossi and Morgan came to a stop when his boyfriend emerged with a grim look on his face. Derek's jaw dropped to the ground, "Hotch!"

After being struck from behind by an overzealous law enforcement agent then half dragged into a police car, it was safe to say that Hotch was pissed. He had watched as Spencer was torn away from him, the young man's frightened face burned into his mind. His head had cleared halfway to the station and he listened to the detectives in the front seat recount his supposed crimes. From their comments he gathered that several young men, mostly minors illegally sneaking into local area clubs had been sexually assaulted in the past few weeks by a middle aged white man with dark hair. The guy watched them to see if they were alone before cornering them in a dark part of the club and performing various degrees of sexual assault on them. According to the two detectives, he had gotten away with fucking rape the last two times.

At the station he watched as one of the detectives sat Spencer down in a chair next to his desk. The other two escorted him to an interrogation room, one of them remarking that the holding cells were full of bikers from a bar fight and a pervert like him probably wouldn't last too long in there with them. The other one left, closing the door on the way out.

The older detective shoved him down into the seat, slamming his head down on the table. "I wish I could just shoot a piece of filth like you. It's disgusting that you can only get it up for teenage boys." Hotch reached up to rub his jaw, he could feel the bruise already forming. Spencer was going to freak out at that. He spent the next part of an hour staring resolutely ahead while the hot-headed man tried to bulldog him. Getting bored he started to profile the detective. Alpha male with image issues by the way he dyed his hair and wore a cheap suit. Extremely homophobic from all the slurs he was tossing out, he clearly felt threatened by Hotch's cool demeanour and lack of response.

Reaching the end of his patience he asked, "Are you going to charge me with something? If so I'd like a lawyer, if not, I'm leaving. My boyfriend and I need to go home and have some filthy sex with each other." Hotch couldn't help himself from verbally baiting the man.

The cop slammed his hand down on the table. Hotch could tell the guy was about to strike him when the door flew open. It was the detective who had been talking to Spencer. "Let him go he's not our guy. The kid's really his boyfriend and he's not underage."

"What the fuck! No way! This cocksucker's good for it!"


Hotch smirked, he couldn't resist one more stab at the obnoxious man, "Well detective, you might want to shoot me but you've got to be able to get it up first. At least you know I can."

The man's face turned purple with rage and he barrelled out of the room screaming, "Fucking homo!"

Hotch stood up as the detective, who introduced himself as 'Stephan' motioned him towards the door.

Coming out, and the next moment he thought quite literally, he was surprised to see Morgan and Dave standing with Spencer.

Their supervisor's face stiffened a little bit as he saw Morgan and Rossi but it broke into a smile when he saw Spencer. "You okay?"

"I'm a lot better than you are," the young agent lifted his hand to his lover's face and inspected a bruise along the jaw line. "What happened here and how's your head?"

"It got slammed against a table, don't worry about it. I'll live," The unit chief turned to a slightly smug Dave and a shocked Derek. "What are you two doing here?"

"Reid called me and Morgan happened to be at the club." Rossi whistled again, looking appraisingly at his friend, "Damn Aaron, you've still got it." Hotch was dressed in a powder blue business shirt, the top was unbuttoned suggestively and the cuffs were undone. It was tucked into a pair of designer jeans that perfectly accented his ass. To finish off the ensemble he had on a nice pair of black leather loafers and a gold watch. He looked every part the stylish studly older man.

Reid's arm crept around his waist, "Back off Rossi, he's mine!" The older man chuckled and Morgan looked as though his brain had exploded.

The detective who had been questioning Reid came back up to them. "Mr. Hotchner,"

"Agent Hotchner," Reid corrected him.

The man grimaced. "Agent Hotchner, if you want to press charges against Detective Phelps we can take care of that right now. He's maintaining that you hit one of the officers during that fiasco in the club."

"Ah sir," the younger detective from earlier walked up to them. "He didn't hit me. I tripped trying to yank the kid away."

"Okay Donaldson. Agent?"

Hotch didn't want to press charges. It would go in some database somewhere that Garcia would find and that would be quite awkward to explain. Even worse, it could end up on Strauss' desk that one of her subordinates had an altercation with local LEO's. That would be even harder to explain and would contain considerably less pleased squealing.

"No, I think that won't be necessary. I'd like to pretend this never happened."

"Well then, I think that could be arranged. Not exactly our proudest moment detaining a fed and his partner. I'll take care of the rest so you all can go and enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Thanks detective, give us a call if you need help finding this guy." Hotch nodded at Rossi who took out one of his cards and handed it to the puzzled detective.

Looking it over, he exhaled sharply, "BAU huh? Will do." He strolled away shaking his head.

The group walked out of the station and immediately Morgan seemed to regain his senses. "Okay! Somebody explain," he said, pointing at Hotch then Reid.

Rossi herded them towards his car, "Morgan, let's go find something to eat and we'll talk about it then."