Chapter 2

The Meeting

A/N: SLIGHT SLASH WARNING

Pleasure therefore, (or Delight,) is the appearance or sense of Good; and Molestation or Displeasure, the appearance or sense of Evil: -Thomas Hobbes

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Just another day.

"Reid – is Reid here yet?" Hotch stood looking around the bullpen.

Morgan indicated the men's room. Then went back to trying to see the words swimming on the page he was trying to read.

Hotch looked at his watch and waited for five minutes when Reid still hadn't re-immerged from the room, Hotch went to see if he could find him. He pushed open the door and stood for a few seconds just watching. He then quickly entered and locked the main men's room door behind him.

"Reid – what the hell are you doing?"

Spencer stopped and turned to look at Hotch, at the same time he wiped the heels of his hands angrily across his eyes.

Hotch looked down at where Reid had been stamping down onto a splatter of bits which used to be his cell phone.

Reid opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, deciding instead to start to pick the bits up off the floor and put them in the bin. He retrieved the sim card and put it in his jacket pocket.

"There – there was something wrong with it."

Hotch nodded. "We really do need to talk Spencer. I think you have come back to work far too early. I want you to consider taking more time."

"No." Spencer stood and looked directly into Hotch's eyes. "I can't. I need to be here."

"Reid – you are no good to any of us if you aren't ready. I'm not judging you. No one will."

Spencer sighed and leaned on the wall of the small room. He leaned his head back against the tiles. "I'm just not sleeping very well."

"Nightmares again?"

A small shake of the head. "No – just nothing – I can't sleep."

"Then sort it out Reid. I don't want to come down hard on you but this behaviour isn't acceptable."

Reid's fingers fiddled with the sim card. "Sort it out?"

"Go home and sleep. Please. Go and see a doctor get something to help you. Once you get back into the routine it will be easier."

Spencer took a shuddering breath.

"With your past history Reid, I cannot permit rumours to start. You look ill. I need you to go and sort your problem out now. We don't have a case and so for now I can spare you. Morgan will have to do his own paperwork for once – and Reid – get another cell and put your sim in it."

"But – but I think it's the sim which has the error. I will have Garcia check it out."

Hotch put his hand out to Reid. "I'll do that for you. I want you to make an appointment to see your doctor. I will give you a lift. In the meantime have a coffee and at least try to do something constructive."

"I can manage." Reid's hand stayed firmly in his pocket.

"The sim card Reid. Now."

Reid pushed away from the wall and pulled the small bit of plastic from his pocket. Hotch could see the slight tremor in Spencer's fingers as he placed the card on Hotch's palm. He also noted the way Reid closed his eyes and bit on his bottom lip. Aaron was going to sort this out.

"Be sure to tell me when you need that lift." Hotch heard Reid sigh as he left him alone in the men's room again.

Spencer followed shortly afterwards and sat down hard on his chair. Again he rubbed at his eyes and then at his aching jaw. He picked up the telephone and punched in a number. He knew Hotch would check out the sim card. He knew he would make sure he made his appointment. He felt trapped. Like some invisible net was closing in on him.

"Doughnut?" Emily's voice. He could smell the sweet sugary smell of the food Prentiss had in a small white baker's bag.

He shook his head slowly. "No thank you Emily." He was still looking down at the phone he was holding in his had. Someone was talking on the other end. Reid quickly put the phone to his ear and talked to the receptionist. He looked away from Emily. He had never really gotten on too well with her, but now there was a deep down dark rotting hatred for her.

For the rest of the morning he sat brooding and wondering what Garcia was going to find on his sim and what she was going to tell Hotch. At lunchtime he pulled a painkiller from his pocket and swallowed crunched down on it. The taste was revolting, but they seemed to work so much better this way.

He sighed when he heard the inevitable voice behind him. "Reid – I think we need to talk."

Spencer saw the small sideways glance from Morgan and with as much control as he could muster he placed his pen on the desk and slowly stood and turned to face Hotch. "My appointment is at three."

A nod. "My office please Reid."

He pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and shrugged it on. He then picked up his bag and carried it back to where Aaron was already walking. Once inside the office Hotch locked the door and asked Reid to sit. Again he felt like he was being trapped. He could feel his heart beating too fast and a sweat breaking out on his brow.

Spencer sat quickly and crossed his legs tightly. His hands stayed on his lap twisting and untwisting in a manic fashion.

Hotch placed the sim card on the desk in front of him. It was in a small evidence bag. Reid looked at it and closed his eyes against the pain he was going to go through now.

"Do you want to start or shall I?"

Spencer shook his head. "It's not how it looks."

"How do you think it looks?"

Reid shrugged. "I suppose it depends on how blinkered you are being." He snapped back.

Hotch placed the palms of his hands on the desk. "I am putting your attitude down to lack of sleep. Now explain."

Spencer leaned back in the chair and tipped his head back so he was looking at the ceiling. "It's personal."

"Not anymore it's not. I can help you Reid but only if you will confide in me."

Spencer cracked his knuckles. "I'm looking for someone. They are just contact numbers."

"You call them every day." Hotch was fiddling now with the plastic bag.

"Because I haven't found him yet." He uncrossed his legs and pushed his chair away from the desk. "Look Hotch I am sorry, I know you don't understand and I'm not asking you to. I just want to be left to sort this out in my own way."

"How can I possibly understand anything Reid if you won't talk to me about it?"

Reid's legs suddenly re-crossed and his arms folded tightly around his chest. "It's personal." His voice had dropped to a much quieter tone.

"It's affecting your work. It's not personal anymore."

Suddenly Reid was standing and his chair had tipped back onto to floor. "This.." Indicating the sim card. "Has nothing to do with why I can't sleep. I am hoping it will help me."

"Explain how being in contact with drug dealers and pimps will help."

"NO!" And now Reid was pacing. "It has nothing to do with my work and it has nothing to do with you. I am entitled to privacy Hotch. I am allowed a life."

"No Reid. I am afraid you're not. Badge and gun. You are suspended until your sort this out. I don't want to risk mistakes on the job because your mind is elsewhere."

Shaking hands pulled his gun slowly from his holster and placed it carefully on Hotch's desk. The badge followed in a slightly more irritated fashion. "Fine! Suspend me for being a fag!" He snatched up his bag and turned to leave the office.

"Reid! – That is not what this is about. You know that."

Without turning back he spoke as he unlocked the door. "No Hotch – I don't know. I have a doctor's appointment to keep. Excuse me."

"Wait." And Hotch was there behind him a hand on his shoulder. "Here."

Reid turned to look at the sim card in Hotch's hand. Slowly he reached forward and took it. "Did Garcia find a fault with it?"

A shake of the head. "No – but I hope you find what you are looking for Spencer."

Reid put the card in his pocket and left.

It felt like the elevator doors would never open and he could feel eyes boring into his back making that scar tingle and his stomach twist in sickening knots.

He already knew that he wasn't going to keep his appointment with the doctor. He had no intention of sleeping but now it meant that he had no safe place to even get that small half hour sleep with no dreams and nightmares. His fingers closed around the plastic bag in his pocket and it was comforting.

-o-o-o-

Once inside his apartment he threw his things down on the hall floor and ran to the kitchen. One of the drawers had an old phone. It didn't take much to put the sim card in it and get it working.

Yes he knew he had tried to destroy it. Yes he knew he should have thrown it away but this was contact – even if it was one way – his only contact. He put the phone on charge and went to the bedroom pulling out a change of clothes. He placed them on the bed and went to the bathroom.

Again it was a quick shower and he didn't bother with a hair wash now. He could sort that out when he got back. This was good – this meant he had more time than usual to track. To look for him and to do the other things he needed and now that he was off work, well, he thought he might even have a drink.

Still damp from the shower he pulled on a pair boxers and some jeans with a plain dark grey long sleeved top. He didn't want to stand out. He needed to blend in and just observe. Eventually he would see him. He knew he would.

Once more with enough cash to over his nightly needs and with his keys attached to this belt loop he made him self as small as possible on the train. He sat where he could see the doors and both carriage ends and fiddled with his hands on his lap.

Even though it was daylight still it was still really busy in this part of town. It seemed to be an endless party here. Seeing as it was still early he decided to visit a bar and have a soft drink and get some sugar in his system.

With an orange juice and lemonade in front of him he leaned on the bar and looked around. Forever looking for who he needed. He rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand and tipped the drink down. He realised what a mistake it was immediately. Too much too quick. A quick walk to the men's room allowed him to expel the drink from his system down the toilet pan. He knelt on the dirty bathroom floor for a few minutes collecting his thoughts about this whole situation. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rest until he had this whole thing sorted and to do that he had to find Floyd. He had to at least say goodbye if that is what he wanted – and he probably did. A glance down at his watch. Still a bit early really, but he was going to go anyway and start looking. At least now he knew where to begin his search.

A miserable late afternoon greeted Spencer. It was dull and overcast as he made a slow and hopefully inconspicuous walk down towards the small side street he had found the evening before.

Already it was busy. Already it was night time down here. Head down but eyes looking around he began a slow walk down the length of what wasn't much more then an alley way.

He walked to the other end pretty much undisturbed and there was nothing. The sense he had picked up the night before was gone. Either he had been mistaken yesterday or he was just too early.

Reid stood for a while trying to figure out what to do next. He couldn't go home – he could hang about here for too long. His only real options where the coffee shop around the corner where he would get talked to and asked questions and have joviality forced upon him, or go back to the bar and have another drink. Something he was more likely to keep down this time.

Spencer turned around and started his walk back to the Ten Bells bar on the corner of the next block.

A few more people in here now, but not so you would notice unless you are looking for someone. He ordered a whiskey and this time sat at a table alone and sipped it slowly and played with the beer mat. No one talked to him or really even looked his way. He kept his head down and drank slowly until with bleary eyes the looked at his watch and decided it was time to go again.

It wasn't until he tried to stand up that he realised that maybe he had a touch too much to drink on a very empty stomach. His head was spinning comfortably as he walked in what he considered a reasonably straight line to the door and out into the cool night time air.

It hit him with a blast so strong that he nearly fell to his knees. The sudden air to his head made his eyes water and his knees feel weak. Too much to drink. He didn't think it had been that much, but now trying to look back on it he couldn't remember how many he had eventually tipped back and down into his now gurgling stomach.

At first he walked with one hand against the wall of the building as he made his way back to the place he needed to get to. Spencer was silently – he thought – cursing himself for drinking too much as he stood facing the darkness and still not being able to sense anything other than drugs and sex. Slowly he once again began to walk down the length.

"Hey."

A familiar voice. Spencer turned to look at the young man leaning on the wall. He did a small half smile at him. With a smile Reid walked over to him and took him by the shoulders. He moved the guy out of the way and took his place against the wall.

"The usual." Was all Reid said as he felt the hands at his belt.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he felt the young dark haired whore start to earn his money. Reid put one hand on the top of the guy's head as he knelt and the other hand he placed on his own stomach. It was as he had asked for at first. The usual. Nothing special, but pretty good nonetheless. He took long deep breaths as he felt the hands running over his sides and down to his exposed hips and then the short sharp breaths as the mouth touched and the tongue flickered over his exposed flesh.

As his back arched and he made small moaning sounds at the back of his throat the mouth and hands suddenly went. The hair slipped away from his hand for only a few seconds. A new trick. Something to get his body needing more.

And that's exactly what he got.

When hands suddenly returned and moved one to his hip and the other to his right buttock and the tongue began its games again he thought he was going to scream. His hand twisted around long dirty hair and the strong smell of musk was unmistakable. He felt the nails from the rough hands digging into his white flesh and he needed to move and look down and confirm this was happening but he couldn't move. All he could do was stand and take what was being offered.

The owner of the mouth did a damned good job and now the mouth was kissing and sucking and licking at Spencer's stomach and the hands were running over his ribs.

And now the mouth was on Reid's neck but still he couldn't open his eyes and look at this person. He was trapped in a world somewhere where he had no control over what was happening. The mouth crushing his and the sucking and nibbling and the nails digging and pinching and the hands squeezing and yes it hurt and yes it was wonderful. The teeth were biting down on his neck now and a hand had a hold of him touching with the rough calloused hands he new well. Another hand was twisting and twisting in his hair and Spencer wanted to reach out and touch this person and feel the skin beneath his hands but he just stood with one hand by his side and another pushing hard against the wall he was standing against.

And then it was over. Reid stood still against the wall and felt the hands re-buttoning his jeans. He felt them gently refasten his belt.

"Floyd?"

A finger pressed on Spencer's lips.

"Just some dirty street whore doing his job."

"But……"

"You've been drinking. Go home babes, you won't find what you are looking for here anymore."

"But……"

"I've moved on. You need to too. Go."

"Please…."

"You know where to find me."

A final gentle kiss on the lips and he was gone.

Suddenly the sounds which had been muffled out by the adrenaline came back into focus. Spencer looked down the street to see if he could see Floyd, but all he could see was heaving groaning bodies and deep dark shadows.