A/N: Forgive me for my made-up jet talk. Google fails me once again…. :/

Written for the prompt at 'Criminal Minds Kink Meme', a FaceBook meme that lasts all year. Check it out, I dare you to!

Revenge is Purple

Spencer Reid frowned as Derek Morgan snickered at him from across the men's locker room. What was so funny? In retrospect Reid should have known that Morgan was laughing at him, but at the same time he felt the benefit of doubt was necessary. That was, until Hotch walked in.

"What happened to your hair?" Hotch asked. Amusement was evident in his tone until Reid turned back to face him and frowned.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, protectively stroking his hair. And that was when he saw the neon purple dye on his hand. Immediately his eyes locked with Morgan and a glare was set on his face. He had decided to take a shower in the locker rooms, but his shampoo had gone missing. Thinking nothing of it he had asked Morgan if he saw it near his locker. The older man had promptly reported back that the genius forgot to take it in with him and then tossed it over into the shower…

"Morgan!" he shrieked. "Why would you do that?"

In return Hotch gave Morgan his best 'Section Chief Hotchner' stare and shook his head. "The pranks stop here. We have a case in twenty minutes, Morgan. It's bad enough he has to deal with a bunch of alpha-males who give him grief about his age; now he has to explain his hair." Sighing Hotch turned his gaze to Reid, who was currently putting on vest number two of what appeared to be five and pouting near his locker. "Go ask Garcia if she has a hat you can wear…Or better yet if she knows any tricks to at least tone down the damned color," he mumbled.

"Yes sir," Reid frowned. Then, after putting on vest three out of three-which Hotch then scolded himself for guessing wrong about- the youngest agent darted out of the room and into the hallway. Almost immediately he could hear snickering, but he tried his best to ignore it. After the excruciatingly long walk to Garcia's office Reid closed the door behind him and pouted adorably. Garcia turned around and her eyes lit up.

"My, my, my!" she cheered. "It's about damned time!"

"Morgan put it in my shampoo," he glared. "Hotch doesn't approve."

"Aw, poor baby," she cooed. "Let mama dearest help!" She stood up and went to her magical bag, obviously having something in mind.

"Hotch suggested a hat and something to 'tone down' the color…."

"A hat I do have, my good doctor." Garcia turned around suddenly and produced a plain black fedora. "I've always thought that would come in handy one day," she added with a small smile. "And for the color….? How long has it been sitting?"

"No longer than thirty minutes. Why?"

"Then take this towel and start scrubbing. You're supposed to blow-dry it in, so if you scrub it out the color should be, well….less neon," she shrugged.

Reid quickly scrubbed at his hair with said towel, relieved to see that some of the purple was in fact coming off. After a few minutes Garcia took the towel and passed him the fedora. "Thanks Garcia," Reid sighed. "That's a little better, I suppose…"

"So how are we planning our revenge, Boy Genius?" she smiled. Reid frowned before opening his mouth to talk. Garcia, however, cut him off. "Never mind. I'll start brainstorming and call you later with what I come up with. Okay?"

"Uhm, sure," Reid replied as he furrowed his eyebrows. "I've got to go, but thank you," he said again, motioning to his head.

"It's not problem, Sweetie. And neither is your spectacular revenge plot," she said in her 'evil' voice. Reid just blinked his eyes and walked away…

Because he really, really didn't want that elaborated.

~* Three Hours Later, Seattle *~

It had been a waste of a trip. Literally.

Over halfway through the BAU's flight to Seattle Aaron Hotchner was called by the same police station that had called him just hours earlier. The whole team watched as their section chief stood up from his seat and sighed. "Are you sure?….No, no we're glad you called….Alright, bye." Frustrated and angry Hotch hung up his phone and returned to his seat.

"What was that about, Hotch?" Prentiss frowned.

"The police was pranked," Hotch glared. "Apparently no one bothered checking to see if the claims were false or not at the station," he added with a slight sigh.

"Great," Rossi murmured from his seat. "So what are we gonna do?"

"It's too late to turn around; the plane's reached maximum velocity and height. We're going to stay in Seattle for the night and fly out at midday." Hotch sat down and rubbed his temple. He could be at home right now with his son, but because of a cop's incompetence he was sitting on a fucking BAU jet getting ready to land at 1:00am in Seattle. Great, he thought, just great.

"Too late to go sight-seeing," JJ mumbled.

"Too late to do anything," Morgan complained from across the jet.

"It's not too late too sleep," Reid corrected. As if to emphasize his point he let out a cat-like yawn that would surely have Garcia saying 'aw' and snapping a few pictures….Not that anyone on the jet could blame her, really. "It's never too late or early to sleep," he added. It was now more than obvious to every single person on the jet that Reid was apparently tired, not that they weren't. Before anyone knew it Reid curled into a ball and laid his head against the wall of the jet. Morgan smiled at the golden opportunity but was halted by four glares- all directed at him. He threw his hands up defensively and mumbled incoherently. Once the team looked away he brought out his Ipod and closed his eyes. He mine as well sleep too, he supposed.

When the jet finally landed Hotch was the only person still awake. With his anger turning into exhaustion quickly he reluctantly got up from his seat and started waking up all the members of his team, starting with Morgan and ending with Reid. He had been a lawyer, after all, and the justice system was still drilled into his mind. The BAU walked out like zombies into the sleepy city, too dazed to even be aware of where they were. JJ had to guide Reid back to the group every once in a while, though she was even having a hard time keeping up with Hotch.

"We're here everyone," Hotch said oh-so enthusiastically. Quickly everyone was assigned a room, and then they all scurried off on their own ways.

God, how they wished they were home.

~* 19 Hours Later: BAU Headquarters, Quantico, VA *~

Spencer Reid, now fully rested and ready for work, did not expect to be rushed into the woman's locker room of the BAU by Penelope Garcia. At first he was puzzled by why Garcia would want to talk to him in such a peculiar place, but eventually he remembered her promises of brainstorming for his revenge. Joy oh joy, he thought to himself.

"Come on," she hissed, obviously discontent with his slow pace. He kicked up the speed and reluctantly entered the premises that was the women's locker room.

"Why can't we do this in your office?" he frowned.

"Because Morgan might walk in, silly! Now, let's let the evil geniuses inside us come out and play, now shall we?"

The sarcastic and undermining voice in the back of Reid's head couldn't resist but thinking, 'gee willikers Batman, really?' But the more rational, more mature side of Reid just sighed and said, "Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking that…"

~* Approximately Two Hours Later *~

It was one of those rare occasions where the entire team had decided to go out to a local club. Of course it really wasn't where they normally hung out, but with how stressed they had all been lately- and the fact that Hotch would drink this time because Jack had a sleepover- they had all decided to make an exception. Not even three minutes after the BAU had gotten a seat Morgan was already out and dancing with some random chicks. Garcia and Reid just smiled at each other.

"Drinks anyone?" Prentiss grinned as she came around with a tray of alcoholic beverages.

"Yes, please," Rossi smirked, motioning for her to pass him one.

"When will they be coming?" Reid whispered to Garcia.

"Right about…now," Garcia snickered, nodding toward the door. Reid bit his lip to suppress a smile. Six women, all matching Morgan's 'type', walked in. Almost immediately Morgan saw and recognized them, and his face immediately fell. The woman he was with frowned and walked away, seeing as her 'partner' was suddenly uninterested in her.

"Hi Derek," one of the girls greeted as they walked over to him. "Remember us?"

"What's going on?" Prentiss whispered at the table, suddenly aware that something was happening.

"You left us!" a woman shrieked as she threw a drink in Morgan's face. "We all woke up to an empty bed because of you! How could you, Mr. 'FBI'? Huh!"

"Now, wait, wait, wait…Just…." Morgan stuttered, throwing his hands up in defense like he had with Reid…With Reid! 'Damn that kid!' he hissed in his mind. 'I'm gunna kill him!'

"Revenge is a mighty fine shade of purple," Garcia grinned, shagging Reid's hair all the while. Rossi and Hotch just smirked at the exchange and shook their heads.

"Yes," Reid smiled smugly, "yes it is."

~* Revenge is Purple *~