Jonathon Gilroy.

10 years old, missing three weeks now.

No ransom calls, no sign of a struggle.

No leads.

No suspects.

Spencer sighed as he put down the Gilroy file.

He put down his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, warding off an approching migraine.

'Hey pretty boy.' Reid looked up to the familiar voice of one SSA Derek Morgan.

A faint smile fluttered past Spencer lips 'Hey Morgan.'

'Der-ek. Say it with me, Der-ek. Derek.'

'Morgan….' Spencer warned the darker male.

'I call you pretty boy all the time. I don't see why you insist on using my last name,. You sure had no problem saying Derek last night…' Morgan grinned mischeviously.

Reids face went bright red and his eyes widened to the size of miniature golf balls.

'Morgan,' Spencer snapped. 'Not. Here. This is work and you know how I feel about that.'

'I don't get why you're so uptight about this all the time!' Morgan's voice raised in volume.

'Derek! Your office. Now.' Reid said with a dangerous tone in his usually small voice.

Derek ground his teeth in muted frustration but followed.

Spencer closed the door with a loud Click

He turned around seething.

'Derek Morgan. You ass.' Morgan just bit his lip and tried to hide his triumpfant grin.

'...You called me Derek.' His voice having a shy quality to it.

Spencer tried to keep the small smile and blush.

'Well. You wouldn't be quiet.. and…. Oh shut up. And wipe that grin off your smug face.' Spencer tried to be demanding and intimidating, but it came out almost in a laugh.

Derek beamed and chuckled

He crossed the room, from previously leaning his hip against

He put his hands on the younger man cheeks.

Derek looked at Spencer, almost in awe.

'Every moment im with you.. I catch my breath.'

Spencers eyes filled, before he wrapped his hand around Derek's neck and smashed their lips together in near desperation.

Morgan felt something trace his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth at the request of the dirty blond.

The kiss went on for what might have been a hundred years before Spencer pushed Derek backwards to the wooden desk behind them.

Spencer pushed Dereks hands to the desk, pinning them down.

Morgan's breath kept hitching in his throat, making his lack of breath even more dizzing.

The knock at the door barely registered in either man's mind.

'Hey Morgan? I need you to review the Keenan's step fathers alibi for me, I need to make sure all the dates are in order to hand them to Straus.'

The two broke apart in a hurry, Derek's hand knocking over a cup of pens.

Breathless and paniced, Spencer's eyes darted to the door, then to Morgan, and back.

Derek yelled a simple 'One second!'

Derek gave himself a once over, his shirt way a bit untucked, but nothing really noticeable.

One look at Spencer and he could tell it was a different story.

His shirt was wrinkled, his hair was a mess, and his lips were more than obviously bruised.

'Ill just be a minute, okay?'

a nervous nod was all he got in response.

Morgan jogged over to the door, opened and put on a charming smile for Hotch.

'Yeah sure, I'll be finished in about an hour.'

Thanks Morgan, heres the file, just put it in my office when you're finished. Im going home. I'll see you in the morning.' Hotch turned to leave, only to quicky turn around.

'Oh, that reminds me, did you get JJ's email? About the Gilroy case?' The dark haired man asked quietly.

'Yeah, actually. I don't think Reid checked his inbox lately, I think he's around here somewhere, I'll let him know, okay? See you at 8 tomorrow Hotch' He gave his superior a quick nod and wave and closed the door.

Morgan grinned as he closed the door with a confirming 'click'

'So... where were we?' he asked coyly

Reid narrowed his eyes and walked over to where the darker man was standing.

Spencer grabbed his partners jacket and crushed their lips together.

At 8am the next day the lintier group met at the conference room.

"Alright everybody. Theres been a break through in the case. Wheels up in forty." Hotch said, not looking up from the case file.

"Where too?" asked Spencer asked querulously.

"D.C. We're going to The Jeffersonian people."