Short little one-shot I thought up…I know I should be working on my stories though…

They had just finished up another case, this time in Vegas. As luck would have it, Hotch managed to get the team some time off. They had a four day weekend ahead of them. They would spend the rest of today and tomorrow in Vegas, before JJ and Hotch would go home to their families. What the rest were doing was still up in the air.

Currently, they were sitting in a small bar. Reid's choice. He was much more comfortable there and, as the rest of the team witnessed, he knew the bartender.

"Hey Jimmy," Reid said casually as he went to order drinks for the team.

"Spencer!" the bartender, Jimmy, exclaimed, happy to see his old friend. "How are you? I haven't seen you in AGES. Where you been man?"

"Oh, down in Quantico, Virginia. I work for the FBI now in the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Wow. I always knew that little man would be a big shot one day. So you're here for work I assume?"
"We just finished a case. We have a few days off now. That's my team over there," Spencer said, pointing them out.

"Well, I'm glad you're relaxing. You always seemed so wound up." There was a pause. "So what'll you have?"

"Two whiskeys on the rocks, a beer and three strawberry daiquiris." (Garcia had come with them.)

"And for you?"

"The usual."

"Which usual? The 'DD' usual or the 'I'm getting drunk off my ass usual'?"

"Surprise me."

"White Russian it is."

"So you're finally legal?" a voice asked.

Spencer turned. "Harper. How…nice to see you. I assume you can do simple math. Let's see…I'm six years younger than you, you're 33. So 33 minus 6 is…OH! I know! 27! And if the drinking age is 21…27 minus 21 is 6. So I've been legal for quite some time."

Harper glared and gave him the once over. "I see you're not married."

"I see you are. Or rather, you're on the brink of divorce aren't you?" Spencer took Harper's silence as an okay to keep going. "You're married to John right? And since I don't see him, I assume one of you is having an affair. And since YOU'RE the one at the bar, it's probably you."

"DON'T ASSUME TO KNOW ME!" Harper screeched, earning the attention of both Jimmy and the team.

"Oh…you mean like you did back in high school? I distinctly remember you calling me a fagot before I even hit puberty. But then again, I profile people for a living Harper. So I think that gives me a little more authority on this matter. You married John right after high school, and now, the marriage just isn't the same. So one, if not both of you, is having an affair. But since you consider being single as a stigma, you refuse to divorce. And well, when John's attention started to wander you got the boob job, and the nose job, and the lip plumping, and the Botox," Spencer said, pointing at the appropriate regions. "But none of that mattered. In fact, all it did was prove that everything about you is superficial. And I'm guessing that since Alexa isn't here with you, you either had a falling out or she happily married. And probably still prettier than you too."

Spencer stood up and looked her in the eye. "That was always your problem wasn't it? You could never be the prettiest. And now, several years later, when you run into the 'freaky little genius fagot' (complete with air quotations) you put your anger on him again. Except this time, he's not 10, 11, 12 years old. He's 27. And he's had enough of your bullshit." Spencer grabbed his drink (the team's had been brought over to their table) and left.

Spencer smirked into his drink and walked back to his friends.

"Where did that come from Pretty Boy?" Morgan asked, astounded.

"She didn't care if she hurt me or not. So I don't care if I hurt her just then. She can kiss my skinny white ass and go crawling home," Spencer finished his drink and signaled Jimmy.

"This one's on the house, Spencer. That was quite a show," Jimmy said, smiling.

"Spencer…" Garcia started.

"Yes, Garcia, I'll be your sassy gay friend."

"So you are gay," Harper said.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you? I'm technically bisexual. Does it make you happy that you're right about something?" Spencer took a sip of his drink. "Now leave before do something stupid, like shoot you. I don't want to have to do all the paperwork."

"I'll do it for you," Morgan offered.

At that Harper hurried away. Spencer smiled so wide he could have beat the Cheshire Cat in a contest.