The tires squealed against the asphalt as the car came to a stop. After a few seconds, the lights shut off, followed by the engine, before Morgan pushed open the door and climbed out. Rubbing his hand over his neck, he pushed the door shut, and made his way up to the front door. As he reached for the knob, he paused, and lifted his head, listening carefully. Inside the house, he heard Clooney bark, a sign he was safe to go in. With a smile on his face, he pushed the door open, and stepped in, locking it behind him as he made his way down the hallway. Morgan stopped abruptly before he passed the living room, and turned around, frowning at the jacket lying across the back of the sofa. He removed his gun from the holster still on his hip, and slowly made his way through the house, clearing each before moving on. Each cleared room brought a small knot to his stomach when he made note that he hadn't seen Clooney since entering the house.

As he arrived at his bedroom, the only room with a closed door, he took a breath, and reached down for the handle. He quietly and carefully turned the knob, but before he could whip the door open, he heard Clooney bark inside the room, followed by an out of place, but familiar female voice.

"Put the gun away, Derek, I'm just tryin' to sleep." He frowned, eyebrows knitted together, but pushed the door open slowly, dropping his hands to his sides when he saw inside.

"Damnit, Gayle, you scared the hell out of me," he said, holstering his weapon as he reached out and flicked the light switch on the wall. She lifted her head from the pillow, and smiled over at him. Gayle lay on the bed at an angle, so she could see the door with ease while petting Clooney, who was stretched out in front of her.

"Sorry. Eh, to be fair, I did try to call you this afternoon – you didn't get my message?" Morgan, visibly confused, pulled out his phone and flipped it open, before sighing.

"Never came through, girl." He looked up, and placed his weapon and holster on the dresser behind the door. "What are you doing here…at two in the morning?" he asked, moving over to scratch Clooney behind the ears. She sat up, leaning her back against the headboard.

"I…decided I was too cut off from the people I knew. Not fully – I know I was able to call any time…but it's not the same, you know?" Morgan smiled, and sat down on the bed, shaking his head.

"So you decided to come back?"

"Good guess," she chuckled.

"Why my house, though? Why not Mel's? Or Reid's?" Morgan asked, moving as Clooney stood and hopped down off the bed. Gayle shrugged, pushing her foot against Morgan.

"Because…I knew you wouldn't mind coming home to find me in your bed. I knew that you would draw your gun, but you wouldn't shoot me. And…" He watched her give a sheepish look, before reaching into her bag on the nightstand. "…I didn't stealthily lift and copy their house key last time I saw them," she added, holding up a shiny silver copy of the key on his chain. Morgan raised an eyebrow, before smirking and shaking his head.

"You never fail to surprise me," he said, climbing off the bed and moving for the dresser. "But you know I might have shot you if you didn't speak up first," he added, glancing at her as he kicked off his shoes.

"Nah…I think the Clooney factor would have stopped you from firing that weapon," Gayle replied, her voice sounding confident as she scooted down on the bed, and sat upright in the middle of the mattress.

Morgan shook his head, chuckling, as he grabbed a pair of slacks and headed out of the room. She chuckled, running her fingers through her hair, before crossing her legs and clamping her hands around her ankles. Clooney's head poked around the doorframe, and he trotted in, dropping with a sigh at the foot of the bed. Giggling, Gayle tucked her feet beneath her, and slid down to look over the end of the bed, tilting her head as she peered over at Clooney.

"You are so tired, aren't ya, buddy?" she asked, lightly dragging her fingernails across Clooney's side. He took a deep breath under her hand, and shifted slightly, but didn't lift his head.

"Considering someone broke in, I'm sure he's exhausted," Morgan replied from the doorway. Gayle turned her head, and smiled as he walked in, no longer dressed like he had been, but now in just a pair of lounge pants.

"I didn't break in, I happened to have a key."

"That you stole from me."

"Borrowed."

"You know you can't win, right?" Morgan smirked, crossing the room and leaning down to scratch Clooney behind the ear as he rounded the bed. Gayle pushed herself up onto her knees, and glanced at him, chuckling.

"You know you just changed the subject because you didn't want to find out that I could, right?" she teased, turning slightly before sitting back on the bed. Morgan looked at her, his blanket in hand, and sniggered, climbing onto the mattress beside her.

"You know we're ending this conversation now, right?" he said, poking her shoulder gently as he sat next to her. Gayle shook her head, but nodded, smirking. She watched him lie back on the bed, before laying back, herself, and rolling onto her side, propping her head up on her hand.

"It is okay that I'm here, right? I mean…you're not angry, are you?" she asked, and as Morgan turned his head to see her, he saw the look on her face change from one of play, to one of concern and uncertainty.

"Of course it is. I've told you that you're always welcome here, I'm not gonna change my mind now," he replied, putting his hand on her cheek. She smiled, leaning against his hand, as she looked down at him. As the moment passed, and neither of them spoke, Gayle leaned down slowly, moving her hand down against the mattress. With her lips near his, their eyes closing, Gayle's heartbeat grew faster, and thumped in her ears, but just as she began to feel his breath on her lips, his phone began to ring from its place on the dresser.

She sighed, opening her eyes as she sat up. Morgan, pursing his lips to bite back the stream of swears he felt coming, climbed off the bed, and moved over.

"Morgan…hey Hotch…" Gayle thumped her head onto the pillow.

"Damnit." He turned around to see her, smirking.

"Yeah…Yeah, I got it, Hotch, I'll be there soon," Morgan said, shutting the phone.

"I…am guessin' you have to go back in?" He sighed, but nodded, moving back out the door. She groaned softly, shaking her head, before rolling onto her other side to watch the door. After a moment, he walked back in, dressed in the clothes he'd arrived in.

"Just get some sleep, alright? I'll see you tomorrow," Morgan smiled, crossing the room to pull on his shoes. Gayle sat up, and, once he sat up again, too, she hooked her arms around his shoulders.

"Just be safe."

"I'm not starting another one of these with ya," he answered, smirking, and shaking his head as he put his hands around her waist. He stood, and leaned down, placing a light kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, Gayle," he said, patting her cheek before grabbing his phone and his gun, and heading back out the door. She sighed, and dropped back on the bed, curling up beneath the blanket as the sound of his car disappeared down the road.

PAGE BREAK

Exiting the elevator, Morgan made his way through the bullpen, pausing at his chair to drop his jacket across the back of it.

"Hey, Prentiss…any idea what's goin' on?" he asked. She turned her head as she pressed her finger into the Power button on the monitor, and shrugged her shoulders.

"I have no idea. Hotch just said to wait for you and then to meet in the conference room. Did he say anything to you?" she asked, pushing her dark hair off her shoulder and following him up the steps.

"Just that JJ had something for us, and to come in," he answered, shaking his head. Morgan slowed his step, moving aside for Prentiss to enter the room first, before following, and taking a seat at the table.

"I know you guys only left a little while ago, but this came across my desk right before I called you," Hotch said, entering the room and nodding to JJ. She turned, and picked up the remote, pressing one of the buttons with her thumb.

"Annapolis PD responded to a call two days ago of a disturbance around one a.m. at a local motel. When they arrived at the scene, they found this," she said, as a picture came on the screen. The team turned their attention to the plasma behind JJ, where a picture of a crime scene was displayed. It was a motel room, a man lying on his back across the foot of the bed, clad only in boxer shorts, with a wound in his stomach, and his neck slashed. "His name is Robert Mowden, aged twenty-five. He was in Annapolis visiting his brother, and according to the brother, they were bar hopping together. According to the surveillance at the bar, the two left the bar just after midnight. His brother David said that Robert picked up a girl on their way to another bar, and the two of them went into a club together."

"Were there any witnesses?" Morgan asked, eyebrow raised.

"ATM video camera caught a shot of David around one, when the disturbance call came in…he was alone," JJ said, moving her hand and laying the file on the tables.

"Is this the first such murder?" Prentiss asked, flipping open the file and glancing up.

"…they've had three in as many weeks…" JJ answered, shaking her head. Hotch sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, before glancing around the table.

"Get your bags, we move in thirty," Hotch ordered, making his way out of the room. Morgan reached out his hand, taking the file from JJ, and leaned back, flipping through it for a moment.

"Anything peak your interest?" Prentiss asked, standing and pushing her chair in as she waited for him to stand, too. Shaking his head, Morgan continued to flip through the documents, and simply shook his head again.

"Only that it's either a woman…or a man who likes lipstick," he said, handing over the file. Prentiss, eyebrow raised, glanced down at the photographs spread across the open file, one from each scene, showing a prominent maroon kiss on the bedspread near each body.