A/N: Hello again, dear ones! Some naughty words in this chapter, but that's about it... Reviews are loved, as are you...

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Morgan loved what Spencer was doing with his mouth. But, even in his doped-up state, he had a vague sense that something wasn't right. He breathed deeply, and a delicate flowery scent wafted into his consciousness. The world behind his eyes was still unformed, liquid, but one thing penetrated his brain--that fragrance was not Spencer. The boy had a fresh, spicy scent that reminded him of a crackling fire on a cold fall evening, or maybe a freshly mown lawn in spring. This was more like... one of those girly scents. Like a department store cosmetics counter on a Saturday afternoon. Garcia sometimes smelled like that.

But, Garcia wasn't there, and anyway, she wouldn't be doing... that.

Morgan fought to open his eyes. He groaned and looked down. His hazy mind registered what he was seeing, and suddenly, everything became stark and clear.

He recoiled, and yanked his still-limp member out of Jordan's mouth while at the same time sputtering, "No... no, no, no, no!" He gave her a shove to the edge of the bed, and managed to gaspingly articulate, "Jordan! Damn it, what the hell are you doing? Get out of here!"

The violent rejection of her attention was both bewildering and offensive, and Jordan stared at him for a moment before the full force of her fury overtook her.

"What the hell do you mean, what am I doing? You wanted me up here, I'm doing exactly what you wanted me to do--what the hell's the matter with you?" Jordan sat up, flustered, then she rolled off the bed and knelt on the floor, blindly searching for her clothes.

"I didn't ask you to do this!" Morgan had scooted so far away from her that he almost fell off the other side of the bed. He managed to catch himself, but the room was spinning and things still felt a little bit wavy. "We were just hanging out, flirting a little, but--"

"Oh, the fuck you didn't ask me. We were down in the bar, and--don't act like you don't remember! Derek Morgan, you are an asshole bastard, and I'm never speaking to you outside of work again!" She jerked her blouse over her head and pulled her skirt up, not bothering to zip it. She gathered up her underwear, slip, and shoes and headed to the door. She yanked it open, cast a last thunderous look at the man on the bed, then stepped out and slammed the door shut, leaving only a violent reverberation behind.

Morgan buried his face in his hands. He didn't understand it. His last firm memory was of talking about going upstairs--alone, but... everything became a little fuzzy after that point. He kind of remembered her offering him some "stress relief" and then, the two of them laughing. Oh, holy hell. Had he really invited her to go up with him? He must have...

For a moment, Morgan felt like crying. He would never cheat on Spencer, never. Not in a million years would he hurt his sweet boy like that. At least, not in his right mind he wouldn't. But, apparently he hadn't been in his right mind. He tried to calm down, tried to retrace the evening's events after initially saying goodnight to Jordan at the bar.

But, in the time that followed that moment, nothing seemed real. He knew she'd made him an offer--maybe he wasn't clear in his refusal? Maybe she followed him and...

He knew he'd turned his disappointment at not being able to have Spencer spend the night with him into a run of alcohol consumption way beyond what he was used to. There was a time when he could handle his liquor, but he was older now... He tried to focus on exactly what he'd said and done, what Jordan had said and done, but every time he thought he had an image in his mind, it would turn into a wisp and float away.

One thing was certain--waking up to find Jordan Todd latched onto his dick had happened. There was no question about that. Regardless of how filmy his earlier memories were, he couldn't deny that she'd been in his bed, fellating him. How she'd gotten there didn't matter--obviously, he must have invited her. But, why? He just couldn't remember.

His puzzlement turned into anxiety. What about Spencer? What would he say? What would he do? Morgan couldn't bear the thought of those huge brown eyes widening at the news of Morgan's betrayal.

But--he didn't mean to do it... Surely Spencer would understand. He'd explain it to him--the flirting got out of hand, he'd had too much to drink, somehow Jordan had talked him into letting her go up with him, and well, he couldn't really remember, but somehow they'd... gotten naked, and then...

Morgan glanced at the wrinkled sheets where Jordan had lain. It didn't seem possible. He wouldn't have, no way. He wished he could remember. But, he must have done it, how else would she have gotten into his room? Fuck.

Morgan fell back onto his pillow and threw an arm over his eyes. Please. Please, don't let her tell anybody about this. His only hope was that he could talk to Reid first thing in the morning, when he was completely sober again, and explain the whole mess to him. Maybe he could conveniently leave out the part about her going down on him...

Spencer would understand. He had to.

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The next morning...

Reid stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. His mind was numb and his heart felt heavy as he slowly dressed. The image of Morgan and Jordan in bed together kept sneaking into his thoughts, no matter how firmly he shoved it aside every single time.

He was glad that, so far, he hadn't had to say anything more to Hotch than a mumbled "Good morning." He knew the senior profiler would pick up on his agitation, and Reid was a lousy liar.

Hotch had already packed and was finishing buttoning the cuffs on his shirt when Reid emerged from the bathroom. Hotch nodded at him.

"Did you sleep all right, Reid?"

"Uh, yeah. Fine."

"Good. I'm going to check out and then grab some breakfast before the press conference. I'll see you downstairs." He took his suitcase and headed out the door. Reid had just begun to listlessly throw things into his travel bag when a knock came at the door.

He opened it; Morgan was standing there, smiling.

"Hey, kid. I saw Hotch leave--are we alone at last?"

Reid could barely speak. He nodded, but didn't move.

Derek's expression became uncertain. "So... can I come in?"

Reid stepped aside. Once the door closed behind him, Morgan put his arms around the boy, hoping he could find the words to lead up to his confession, but Reid twisted away from him.

A worried frown crossed Morgan's face. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Don't call me that! You--jerk."

"Huh? What--"

"I saw you, Derek! I saw you last night--with her."

"Uh--what?" Derek asked weakly. His stomach was now in knots.

"I snuck out of the room--I went downstairs--I was going to surprise you! I used my key and opened the door. Well, ha-ha, I was the one who got the surprise. I saw her--on you--you were touching her, just like you touch me when I... I hate you, Derek! I hate you. Just get out of here. I don't ever want to speak to you outside of work again."

Shaking, Reid turned away and strode to the window.

Derek came up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. "Spencer, please. Let me explain. It was all a huge misunderstanding. I did not invite her up--"

Reid whirled around and gave Morgan a fiery glare. "Well, this is fascinating. Not only do we have a most unusual linguistic conundrum, but a physical phenomenon that would make Houdini proud."

"Huh? I don't--"

"Clearly, Jordan Todd is an amazing woman. Not only did she manage to so severely misinterpret your caveman-like utterances as to believe that you actually wanted your cock to be sucked, but she found a way to magically transport herself into your room, with no assistance from you whatsoever!"

"Babe, you're not giving me a chance--"

"No, no, don't you see? The woman not only performed an act of oral sodomy, but one of transubstantiation! It's... absolutely remarkable!"

Morgan swiped a hand over his mouth, trying to stay focused in spite of a splitting headache. "All I'm saying is, I was drunk."

"Bullshit! You hold your liquor better than anyone I've ever met."

"Yeah, but--look, I was really shaken up. Yesterday was so... Hotch and I nearly got shot! You nearly got killed! I guess the booze just went to my head faster than usual, and--"

"Ok, fine. So, you were drunk." Reid's rancor passed and he closed the gap between them until his face was only a few inches from Morgan's. When he spoke, his voice was low and raw. "Then, tell me something, because I'd like to know. Will you please describe to me... the exact moment... the precise second... when you were drunk enough... to break my heart?"

They stood in absolute silence for a long moment, then Morgan spoke in a broken whisper. "I-I didn't mean to--I don't remember--I--"

Reid sneered and shook his head before stepping around his lover. He went back to packing and Morgan threw his hands up. "I didn't mean to do it, Spencer! I wasn't thinking straight--I don't even remember asking her to come up. I was going to leave the bar, and the next thing I knew, she was... I freaked out! I made her leave immediately. I didn't even get off, I swear!"

"Well, that's a shame. Seems to me that if a person is willing to so casually destroy a loving relationship, that they should at least get a little sleazy satisfaction out of the deal. Now--would you please leave?" Reid's voice had taken on a cold, steely quality.

"I swear to God--I don't remember how any of it came down. I just woke up, and there she was--"

"Well, that's convenient. Amnesia makes it all better, doesn't it?"

"No, of course not. I just know I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"Go."

"Spence, please--I love you! You know I would never do something like this--"

"Just go."

Morgan stood silently pleading for another long moment, then gave up and walked to the door. He looked back; Reid was zipping up his bag. Morgan took a step toward him.

"Baby, I don't blame you for being upset. We'll talk about this some more after we've both had a chance to calm down, ok?"

Reid turned, bag in hand. "I think we've covered the major points. You apparently can't go even one night without being sexually gratified, and you're not a very inventive liar. As for me--I don't have anything else to say." He went to the door; he slapped Morgan's room key against the bigger man's chest as he walked by and strode to the elevator.

Morgan stared at the card, breathing ragged breaths as he tried to think of something, anything, he could say or do to get Reid to come back, but when he ran out into the hall, all he saw was the elevator door closing and the glow of the red arrow pointing "down."

He slammed his fist against the door jamb, and cursed.