A/N: Okay, so this is my first fanfiction writing- ever. Be gentle. This is not betaed, so any opps are my fault. Drop me a line and I'll fix them- I know how much they piss me off. ;) Also, I didn't do any medical research- I just made it up. So if you know it's all total BS and it bugs you- KMA! If ppl can have Hotch/Reid slash, I can have medical blunders. ;)p Also, overall this fic gets a minimum T rating, and possible M way later on- but no slash, I don't do that crap. This first chapter however, is K, K+. It's cutsy friendship and background info for next chap.

Enjoy! :D

Chapter One:

"This is ridiculous!"

"I actually think it's a good idea"

"Maybe for you it is. We can't find you half the time." Morgan retort grumpily at Reid, who simply returned Morgan's smirk with a harsh glare.

"Well, come on Reid. You gotta admit that you can be harder to- trace than most of us." JJ smirked, choosing her words carefully as she leaned up against Morgan's desk, having watched their conversation for the past ten minutes, cradling her cup of coffee. Morgan burst out laughing at JJ's sadly truthful statement. Reid glared laser beams at him, and quickly greeted Emily as she approached her desk, desperate for a subject change.

"'Morning, Emily."

"What are we all laughing about?" she asked cautiously as she set down her coat and bag and took in JJ and Morgan's amused faces shadowed over by Reid's surly one.

"Reid being the only one who really needs these damn tracers." Morgan said, smile sliding from his face and returning to frustration.

"Again?" Prentiss asked exasperatedly, to which JJ laughed. Morgan had been complaining-to everyone, about the tracers every day since they had originally found out they would all be scheduled to receive one. That had been nearly three weeks ago.

"Well, come on!" Morgan continued incredulously, starting the same argument he had repeated so frequently. "How can they make us have these?"

"You're scheduled to get yours today, aren't you?" Emily asked, smirking. JJ raised her eyebrows.

Morgan sat with his mouth open, moving slowly up and down unable to respond, shocked at how easily and quickly Emily had been able to see right through him.

"Ha! I knew it!" Emily chided not waiting for an answer, to which JJ snorted and walked away.

"Seriously!" Morgan defended himself, recovered from his bout of stunned silence.

"What's the big deal?" Prentiss asked settling down into her desk, shuffling papers about, ready to begin the day. "I mean- it's not like they're making you pay for it. They're providing the tracer and giving you time off to 'recover'." She said rolling her eyes.

"Yeah- a day." Morgan said disgusted "Hardly makes it worth it."

"Well, it mandatory for all field working agents so you don't really have a choice." Reid said setting down his mug and sitting in his chair at his desk diagonal to Morgan's.

"Well, it's not like I'm gonna quit over it-" Morgan argued.

"Then what's the problem?" Emily said not looking up from her papers.

Quiet.

That got her attention. Prentiss' head shot up and she turned her chair slowly to face Morgan, Reid looking on intently having obviously not caught what Emily had.

"You're scared of needles, aren't you?" she asked quietly, shocked. Reid's mouth dropped into a gaping hole, eyes huge.

Morgan said nothing and was looking down at his hands. That was the only answer Emily needed.

"Oh my God, you are!" Prentiss scoffed through a wide smile, nearly laughing. Reid was having a hard time not laughing himself, but he managed- barely. However, he couldn't not at least smile at the thought of big ol' FBI Agent Derek Morgan afraid of millimeter thick metal tubing being injected into the skin.

Then he thought better of it.

There had been a time when Reid, too, was absolutely horrified of needles, but he had gotten over that. And he knew where his fear had come from, but Morgan had no experience with drugs that Reid was aware of, so where did his fear arise? Then he recalled that conversation he, Morgan, and JJ had about their fears. They didn't know why they had them, they just did. The way Reid was afraid of the dark, and JJ the woods, so too was Morgan afraid of needles.

"Hey! That thing they shoot you up with is not a needle!" Morgan fired back, "It might as well be a gun!"

Emily just continued to chuckle and shake her head as she turned back around to face her towering pile of paperwork.

"It's doesn't even hurt." Reid said gently, trying to cheer Morgan up. He lied, of course. It did hurt, a lot- but not enough to require the day off the Bureau offered. Reid had gotten his yesterday and technically didn't have to be here, but he was. He didn't want the day off- none of them did. Everyone on the team, minus Morgan, had already "received" their tracer.

Basically, after the original memo was sent out, telling the agents of the new requirement that had been passed by the Director, they received a second memo of their scheduled appointment with the Bureau doctors to be given the tracer. They went to said appointment where the doctor had some device that very much resembled a gun, as Morgan had said, at 'shot' an inch long, centimeter thick cylinder, that was, in fact, a miniature GPS device. The Bureau would be able to tell where all field acting agents were and not risk the GPS being lost, taken off, or forced off the agent- it was inside them, of course the GPS would not be activated until an agent was declared MIA or AWOL, even plain old "missing". It was one of the conditions only under which the Director would allow the tracers. He didn't want to know where his agents where 24/7 and neither did they. It would be an invasion of privacy.

For everyone it was in a different place. Morgan didn't really listen to the doc explain it- he was just anxious to get this over with, but he seemed to recall him saying something about "muscle cushioning" and "fatty tissue" or something like that. He had also over heard some of the other agents swear that it was because if ever any of them were captured by some enemy, they wouldn't know exactly where the tracer was to get it out, if they even knew there was one at all. The only way to find it without already knowing where the tracer was in the body, was to use an indicating scanner- which were extremely expensive as well as traceable once sold, so it would be highly unlikely any intelligent criminal would want to or be able to get their hands on one.

Morgan turned his head to the side as the doc pressed the barrel of the gun to his shoulder. It had just floated back to him that the doc had rambled off some numbers about the tracer, "an inch of clearing" he had said. Morgan wasn't sure what the hell that meant, but understood that it would mean pain. He heard the metallic ring in the air as the tracer was forced out of the "gun" and into his skin- deep into his skin.

"OW!" Morgan growled angrily, nearly shouting at the doc. He knew it wasn't the doc's fault, he was just doing his job, but it still hurt. The doctor mutter a small apology that had no feeling behind it, as it was his dozenth that day and there really was nothing he could do about the pain for any of them. He swabbed the area again, put a band aid over the small entrance point, and told Agent Morgan he could go.

"Reid, you little liar." He mumbled rubbing his shoulder, as he left the doctor's examination room.

That had been almost a year ago.

A/N: Hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought/think. Reviews of course are always welcome, and they'll make me update sooner. Although I guarantee I'll finish it anyway with or without reviews cause I'd rather shoot myself in the foot than not finish. ;)p