Welcome to my newest story! This is a Derek/Spencer story, but it is entirely unrelated to my previous stories, and is loosely based on the "Beauty and the Beast" fairy tale (and Disney movie, of course).

WARNING: This is SLASH, so if you don't like it, don't read it. There will be smut later on. Also if you've read my stories before, they tend to get dark and angsty, so be warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds, nor do I own any rights to Disney or Beauty and the Beast. This story is just for my personal enjoyment.

}{ }{ }{

Prologue:

Once upon a time there was a young man, a child of the Vegas elite. The man was selfish, prideful and arrogant, and the only people he could consider 'family' were the people who worked for him. He had inherited from his father one of the riches companies in the United States, though most of his time was spent not with the company, but with a number of men and women in casinos, clubs and especially his bedroom. He was on the cover of every tabloid and there was a gossip column dedicated to his escapades in the Las Vegas Sun. Tall, dark, strong and handsome, Derek Morgan was the proverbial Prince of Vegas.

Until one dry Vegas night, as Derek sat in a private booth in his favorite strip club, did his life abruptly change. A half-naked man and an equally under dressed woman were grinding on each of his legs, fighting seductively for control of the billionaires lap and for the single $50 bill he had in his hand. Derek was happily enjoying his third of fourth drink when his body guard walked over to him with his cell phone out. David Rossi was a middle aged Italian man, and though he wasn't exactly the bouncer type, he had many Vegas connections as well as his handgun that could easily protect Derek if it ever came down to it. Plus, Derek was no easy target; he had the body of an MMA fighter and a posse of eyewitnesses around him at all times.

Derek frowned at the sudden intrusion by his body guard. An erection was straining his tight jeans and he was hoping to take one (or both) of the strippers home to his mansion that night. He beckoned for a man to fill his drink as Rossi leant down by his ear.

"You're going to want to take this," Rossi said over the loud bass line of the music. "It's Hotch." Derek rolled his eyes and put the phone to his ear, his eyes still trained on the sweaty bodies who were relentlessly rubbing against him.

"Hotch, this better be damn important," he growled, though he knew the man wouldn't have called otherwise. Aaron Hotchner had been his father's closest friend and one of the members of the board of directors for the company. Though Derek owned the company on paper, it was Hotch who ran it and would probably have owned it if Derek had not been born. Still, Hotch guided Derek through running the company and helped him with all the business matters in his personal life. Between Hotch and Rossi, they were his closest things to friends.

"It is. Morgan, they found your father's will. A new one," Hotch spoke hurriedly. Derek's father's will had been written the day he was born, leaving the company to him 24 years later on the day of his father's death. Another will hadn't even been looked for, since everyone had believed that only one had been written. Derek gave an angry scoff.

"Yeah? Five years after he's dead and now they find a new will? What the hell does it say?" He downed his drink to calm his nerves and gestured for another. Hotch took a deep breath.

"Your father… He gave the company to the board of trustees," he said, and Derek felt his heart sink into his stomach. "And you get reduced to 1% of the company."

Derek swore and pushed the strippers off of him, throwing the 50 dollar bill at them. The male caught it, but Rossi was quick to hand a bill to the girl, as well as catch Derek's phone as it went flying from his hand.

"Hotch?" Rossi questioned into the speaker. "I see. Well, Derek is handling it about as well as to be expected. He-" Rossi turned and saw the door of the establishment slam shut, then turned towards Derek's booth. The liquor bottle, as well as Derek's leather jacket and motorcycle keys were missing.

Rossi turned back to the cell phone.

"Hotch, we have a problem."

}{ }{ }{

Chapter 1:

1 year later

"I'm telling you, everyone is talking about it. Derek Morgan was seen outside yesterday for the first time in god knows how long," Jennifer Jareau told her friend and flashed the magazine in front of his face for what felt like the fifteenth time. They were sitting – and sweating – on a bench near the park. It was too hot to be outside, but it was JJ's last day in Vegas before she moved to start her new job in Virginia, and she wanted to spend some time with her young best friend in their favorite spot.

Spencer Reid shouldered a bag full of library books and wiped the sweat from his brow, looking at the blurry picture of Derek Morgan again. Despite the heat wave, the former Prince of Las Vegas was shown wearing a sweatshirt with his hood up, walking from a limousine to the steps of Morgan Manor.

"I don't know why you care so much, JJ, he's a spoiled brat who got drunk and decided to drive his motorcycle into a tree, all because he lost most of daddy's company, which, by the way, still left him filthy freaking rich," Spencer spat out quickly. He and his mother weren't very rich, and he could feel himself resenting the amount of money Derek Morgan had all to himself. "Besides, the guy only spent about a year in jail, and most of that time was spent in the hospital. Forgive me if I'm not all that intrigued."

JJ rolled her eyes and flipped the magazine open again.

"For not being intrigued, you sure do have his life story memorized." This was true; the 20-year-old's eidetic memory had remembered the entire article by heart. JJ held up the tabloid's old picture of Derek Morgan from the year before. "You're intrigued because even you can admit that he's gorgeous."

Spencer rolled his eyes back at her.

"Yeah, objectively speaking, he was an attractive guy. If I remember correctly, and I always do, the wreck was pretty bad, so he's probably not as good-looking as he used to be," Spencer pointed out, pushing the magazine away. "Anyway, I don't want to spend our last day together talking about the beastly Derek Morgan."

JJ consented, and they spent the rest of the time talking about the blonde's plans, Spencer's mom and old memories of their life in Las Vegas. Finally the time came for them to part, JJ to her apartment and Spencer to his mother's house to give her medication to her.

Spencer rode his bicycle through Las Vegas, reveling in the sights and sounds as he headed toward the outskirts where his suburban house was located. He loved his city; he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. As much as he wanted to go off to college - he'd had plenty of colleges offering him scholarships each year - he didn't have enough money to put his mother in a good sanitarium. He wouldn't settle for anything less than the best for her.

He pushed his brown, damp locks out of his eyes, as well as the sad thoughts of never getting out of Vegas. Soon he was passing the Morgan estate, glancing at the large mansion. He didn't have to ride his bike past it to get home, but it would shave 1.36 minutes off his time, and he'd always thought that the mansion was beautiful. The building was beautiful Baroque style architecture, with a circle driveway with several cars and SUVs parked in front. He swore for a split second that he saw someone watching him from a window, but his bike had continued past before he could get a better look.

Soon he was at his home in the suburbs. To his shock and dismay he saw his mother sitting in the car in the driveway, banging her small fists into the steering wheel. A few groups of neighbors had come out to watch when they heard the screaming, but none of them had done anything to help with her schizophrenic attach.

Spencer knew what they thought about his mother and him: how sad it was that the young, good-looking genius didn't have money to pursue college, that he was stuck living with his crazy mother, that they lived off money from assisted living and whatever jobs Spencer could scrounge up.

Spencer leapt off of his bike, leaving it neglected on the sidewalk, and sprinting to Diana Reid's door. Luckily it was unlocked, but Diana was proving difficult for Spencer to calm down.

"Spencer! Thank god you are here! I know you've hidden the car keys, but we have to get out of here. They're after us, the FBI, the CIA, all of them. We have to leave – now!" She fought relentlessly against him when he tried to forcefully pull her from the car. "Now, Spencer! We have to get out of here!" Spencer held her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"Mom, please. The bad men are gone; it's just you and me. Let's go inside, please?" He said calming things over and over until she calmed down enough for him to pull her from the car. "Come on, Mom, let's go…" They started up the driveway, Spencer consciously locking the car door so that hopefully this even wouldn't repeat itself, when an engine revved and got Spencer's attention.

A dark SUV, that Spencer swore hadn't been there when he'd first rode into the neighborhood, was parked across the street from his home. The SUV had just turned on and pulled away from the curb, driving partway down the street and quickly turning down a corner. For the second time that day, Spencer felt like someone was watching him, this time from behind the tinted windows of the SUV.

"Spencer, let's go inside. I need to prepare my lecture on 17th century literature for my class tomorrow," Diana Reid said, causing Spencer to forget the eerie feeling for the moment and concentrate on getting his mother her medication.

}{ }{ }{

Let me know what you think. Also I will be on vacation for a few weeks so I won't be updating or starting a new story, but don't worry, I'll be writing!