Creepy plot bunny came along when I was supposed to be praying. The rest of service I could not get rid of the idea to have Morgan and Reid switch bodies. (No I didn't watch Freaky Friday recently.) This is smuttier than my other stories. It alternates between Reid and Morgan's POVs.

Warning: these two switch bodies than have sex like that (I'm not sure if there's a name for something like that), slash, swearing (although if you have a problem with words like "hell" you REALLY shouldn't be reading this.)

One morning I woke up feeling very strange. My body felt strange, heavy. I wondered if I had been kidnapped or given drugs. My eyes scanned the room, no; this was definitely Derek's bedroom. I was lying on his large bed with its plain, brownish sheets. Next to me was the light he kept on the low setting due to my fear of the dark. I turned to face him and instead saw my own thin, pale body lying peaceful in sleep. Was this a dream? No, it felt too real. Maybe I was having an out of body experience. I looked down to see if I had hands and found myself staring at Derek's large ,dark and very capable hands. I wasn't sure I knew what was going on but I didn't think I liked it. I got out of bed careful not to wake…what did I call my body right now? Maybe it was Derek? I wasn't sure. And I walked over to the full length mirror; one that came in very handy for sex, watching yourself being fucked is strangely sexy. In the mirror I saw Derek's mouth-wateringly naked body. I felt myself going hard at the sight of what, for now at least, appeared to be my body. (There is definitely something wrong with your own body turning you on.) I now saw no way to deny it-I was in Derek's body. Other than the whole body switching I was still myself and I always got a coffee craving in the morning. I put on Derek's boxers (it's not like mine would fit right now) and went to make a cup of coffee. After drinking my coffee I was properly awake and my brain started working overtime. I knew there was no way we could go to work and pretend to be each other. (We worked with profilers for crying out loud.) I wondered if this would last for a day, a week, a month, or worst of all forever. I had no prior scientific knowledge on my current…situation and no clue what to do. I swore quietly (yes I swear, get over it) and went to wake Derek and try to figure out what was going on.

}o{

I was woken by a gentle shake.

"Spencer?" I mumbled sleepily, "What's wrong?" My voice sounded weird, higher than normal. I put it down to tiredness.

"Umm…this is going to sound really weird…" I turned to look at him (something was probably wrong with my ears because our voices both sounded really different) and I found myself looking up at-ME! I blinked, now wide awake. Yes, that was definitely my face looking at me with concern. I started struggling trying to get who(or what)ever was on top of me off. I was unable to he was to strong. Which was strange for me, I'm usually stronger than whoever was attacking me (except that this time I seemed to be fighting myself). One thing I did notice was that I had thin, pale arms.

"Derek," the thing on me said, "It's me, Spencer."

"What?"

"Come." He dragged me to the mirror and there were mine and spencer's bodies. Except the one I was in was Spencer's and the one he was in was mine. My first thought was that movie-Freaky Friday- were this girl and her mom switch bodies for a day. (Sure it's a chic flick-don't judge.) My second though was that we'd need to take a sick day because we couldn't go to work like this. I then hoped this would not last for more than a day.

"We can't go to work in each other's bodies," I stated.

"I know." Did he need to know everything.

"So we take a sick day?"

"I guess, but what if this is permanent?"

"We'll need to tell everyone what happened."

"What did happen."

"I don't know. Aren't you the genius?" This was meant as a joke but it seemed Spencer was too stressed because at those words he practically burst into tears. This was an unusual expression on my face since I rarely cry. Spencer on the other hand 'does not believe crying make one less of a man' so if he is very sad he'll cry. I kind of admire him for it, being able to ignore convention and express your emotions, I usually keep it inside which, I'm told by him, is unhealthy. I held him close and whispered loving words in his ears.

"I think we should tell someone," he managed to choke out between sobs, "Maybe they'll know something about this."

"Who?" I could hardly believe this was happening and I was the one in someone else's body. Why would someone else believe me about this?

"Garcia."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess it's because she's done so much for us." He was right Garcia cared about us and was very perceptive; she'd been the one to set us up.

"Okay, I'll call her and tell her to come over." I called her and had to talk the way spencer would (no calling her Baby Girl or flirting with her) which was…different. I tried to keep it short, telling simply that it was an emergency and she was needed. Spencer and I dressed quickly (you don't want to know how hard it was to find decent clothes to wear), we'd showered the night before, and we waited for Garcia to come. We sat awkwardly next to each other, not sure how to act when not in our own bodies. If things had been normal he'd probably have been on my lap but in his smaller body it would be uncomfortable to say the least. I wasn't sure if either of us would be okay with me sitting on his lap, but I yearned for his touch; for the comfort his love gave me. (I can be romantic, especially for/about the man I love.) Finally I gave in, my pride could go to hell.

"Do you mind if I sit on your lap?" I asked.

"Not at all, please do." I could tell he wanted this as well by the pleading look on my/his face. A look I knew meant he was sad and wanted comfort. I reminded myself this was just as weird for the young genius, and he was probably scared he could not explain this with his huge archive of facts. I gingerly walked over and carefully placed my weight on his lap. I hadn't sat on anyone's lap since I was nine-ish. I lay my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, feeling his chest move with his even breaths. We both took comfort from the other's being there. Then Garcia knocked.

}o{

I was enjoying having Derek on my lap, it was a definite improvement to sitting on opposite sides of the sofa in silence. When we heard a knock on the door Derek sprang up to answer it. (Usually I was the one springing up; Derek rose more gracefully. I often compared him to a wildcat, graceful yet strong.)

"Hi Spence," Garcia greeted him.

"Um…hi Garcia," he invited her in, "You should probably sit down. This is going to sound really weird." Garcia sat, curious, and I continued for Derek as he sat next to me, "You see I'm actually Spencer. And he is Derek."

"You're joking," she said, looking from me to him and back.

"No, Baby girl, we're telling the truth."

"Oh my god!" She shrieked, "This is too weird." It took us a while to convince her we weren't trying to make a fool of her. It seems the thing that truly convinced her were our outfits According to her despite the fact we'd had to wear each other's clothes we wore it differently. (I have a bit of a theory that women profile people based on their clothing.) After some hard looking I'd found Derek had collared shirts. So I'd worn one with jeans and a pair of socks (white and black, Derek didn't have as wide a variety of socks as I did). He wore one of my plain T-shirts, minus scarf, coat or sweater vest, and brown pants with matching socks.

We decided Garcia would call Hotch saying Derek and I were sick and that she was taking care of us. We spoke about random things, for the most part, and time flew. Finally, at around five Garcia went home to get ready for a date with Kevin. Derek and I were alone again.

"Derek," I had a sudden thought, "Could we have sex like this?" I was genuinely curious. Usually we had sex every night we didn't have a case, it was one more reason to enjoy being at home.

"Yes," he decided, "If you want to."(It seems even in my body sex was always on his mind.)

"I'd like to," I told him.

"So let's go to my room," he frowned, "Unless it's your room, this whole switching bodies' thing is too weird." We headed to his room.

}o{

Hearing my innocent seeming pretty boy suggest we had sex definitely turned me on. On the other hand it creeped me out, wasn't that like having sex with myself? (Possibly.) Masturbating was one thing but this…I didn't even know what to call it. Still sex was sex, and Spencer didn't seem to have a problem with it. I tried to read his emotions on my face. (That's a lot harder than you'd think.) He seemed to want sex. In a weird probably messed up way I did too. I agreed curious and aroused.

"I think this would work best if we acted like the other for now," I told him.

"What?"

"I act the way you normally do when having sex, you act the way I normally do." He frowned as I spoke but I continued, "Look there's no way we can have sex the way we usually do it."

"So this will be like some psycho's idea of role play?"

"I guess."

"Scarily that idea is turning me on." I felt the same I was getting hard thinking about being fucked by Spencer/me. (So messed up, so true.)

"Me too," I admitted, "Here goes nothing." He kissed me. Starting sex had always been my job; allowing Spencer to take control was incredible. I opened my mouth and let his tongue into my mouth, him claiming me rather than the usual me claiming him. I realized the one thing I definitely shouldn't be doing while we have sex is comparing it to our other times, I decided stop comparing and just go with it. I started unbuttoning his shirt. Once that was done I pushed it back off his chest and ran my (small, pale) hands along his (large, dark) chest. His muscles rippled beneath my hands. (God, there must be something wrong with how I felt about my body in that moment. I couldn't bring myself to care; Spencer in my body was hot.)

He pushed me back against the wall and practically ripped my shirt off over my head. Then he broke our kiss and began gently biting, licking and kissing his way down my body. I was in ecstasy, writhing beneath his strong grip. I'd always wanted to be the submissive partner for once. Due to my size and "ladies' man" reputation I never had been. People assumed I wouldn't want to be because of Buford, but deep down I wanted to know what it would be like to feel the man I loved (and, boy, did I love Spencer Reid) inside me.

I was distracted from these thoughts by his mouth.I gasped as he gently bit my neck; he kept his mouth there for a few seconds, licking it, running his teeth over it. The pain was like heaven, it was pleasure. When his mouth started running lower I wondered if I'd be left with a bruise, but these thoughts quickly flew out of my head as his mouth reached my chest. He gently, teasingly licked my nipple and I realized why he enjoyed my doing this to him so much. His nipples were much more sensitive than mine and the small touch had me wanting so much more. I whimpered and began to tremble; my knees were hardly able to support me as he tortured my chest.

"Spencer," I begged, panting, "Please." He stopped, stood up straight and picked me up. Dropping me on the bed he said one word, "Strip." I obeyed taking off my pants and boxers, watching as he did the same. Then we were both naked. I felt me breathing speed as the moment I'd been waiting for came closer. He took lube from the bedside table and put it on his finger. He put his finger inside me. It was a strange, alien feeling and something I'd never felt before. (Buford, bastard that he was, had never bothered to prepare me.) The weirdness became comfortable as he began to stretch me with his fingers, but it was over too quickly. He hadn't needed to take much time because we'd had sex last night. He took his finger out and I almost whimpered from the loss of the heavenly feeling. I watched as he quickly put the lube on his cock then I lost my mind as he thrust into me, hitting my prostate and sending a burst of blinding pleasure through me. It built quickly and I felt like a dam about to burst. Finally I couldn't hold it in another second, "Spencer!" I screamed as I came. I heard and felt him come, deep inside me. We lay there panting and unable to move until we fell asleep.

I know I overused brackets but it felt like that was what the story wanted-who am I to decide what my story is like. It isn't done yet I can either have them wake up themselves tomorrow or make this last a few days (not forever cuz I already have an idea for a sequel) I'd love suggestions or ideas.