A/N: For some reason, 'J' always equals 'jealousy'. Hmmm. This turned out longer than I thought it would. So, sorry if that puts you off. I hope that you guys enjoy!

J is for Jealousy

Why Garcia insisted on dragging them all out on a Thursday night, he would never know. Why they'd all eventually caved and accepted the invitation, well… The Goddess of All Things Awesome could be pretty persuasive. Spencer was fairly certain that blackmail was involved somehow.

The place was packed, the normally sedate after-hours spot given over to a younger crowd than they usually saw. It was more of a club atmosphere tonight, and Spencer wondered if he might not prefer to call it a night and accept whatever punishment awaited him. He was just about to make his excuses to Hotch and Rossi and ask them to give his regards to the rest of the team when Garcia plopped back into her seat, flushed and a little out of breath from her trip around the dance floor. Morgan took the seat between her and Reid, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"And you said I couldn't wear you out."

Garcia took several gulps of her bright pink Bahama Mama and fanned herself with her hands. "Honey, you can wear me out any day of the week. Let me catch my breath and rehydrate, and I'll be ready to go again."

"Actually, Garcia if you want to rehydrate, that's really not the way to go. Considering that each serving of alcohol that you ingest reduces the amount of ADH produced by-"

Morgan groaned. "Did you have to get him started? Reid- man, loosen up!" He took a sip of his own drink. "If I have to drag you out there, I am going to get you on that dance floor tonight."

"That's highly unlikely."

"Better than the usual 'not on your life'", he shrugged. "C'mon, mama. You ready for another spin?"

Garcia took a couple of quick swallows from her glass and set it down. "If I don't make it back, tell all my friends that I died happy."

But before she could make it to her feet, she was bumped into from behind by a man walking backwards as he shouted a hello to someone across the bar. Morgan reached unnecessarily to steady her as she fell back into her seat.

"Hey man, you might wanna watch where you're goin'," he said crossly to the man who hadn't so much as uttered an apology.

"Sorry about that," he turned around, a slight scowl marring his handsome features. His eyes scanned the occupants of the table as though looking for the person who had addressed him and stopped when they landed on Spencer Reid. The stare was so long and intense that Reid shifted nervously and looked anywhere else.

"Well, hello there."

All eyes turned to Reid. He looked up to see the most lecherous smile he had ever seen aimed directly at him.

"Um," he swallowed thickly, "hello? Do I- do I know you?"

The man laughed. "Wow. That hurts, Spencer. First you disappear and don't even call, now you don't know me?"

It felt like there was a bubble of silence in the bar that encompassed only their table. No one else spoke, too engrossed in the drama that was playing out.

"I'm sorry. I'm not very good with names," Spencer tried to laugh it off.

"You should be good with my name." The slick smile grew even wider. "You said it enough. Rather loudly, if I recall."

Garcia clapped a hand over her mouth. Rossi forgot to close his, and Hotch's lips pressed into a hard line. Spencer's face felt like it was being held under a heat lamp. He could feel himself sliding further down the faux leather seat. With any luck, he'd be all the way under the table before this was over.

"Look. Whatever happened between you two in the past, you're obviously making the kid uncomfortable now. So, why don't you-"

"I don't know him!" Reid interrupted in a harsh whisper. Morgan's jaw clenched, but his eyes remained on the stranger.

"Ohhh. I get it. Why didn't you just say that you were here with someone?"

"Huh? Morgan? No! I mean, we're friends. We're not…" He was at a loss for words.

The man smiled again, strolling over to stand next to Reid.

"So why don't you let me buy you a drink, then? See if we can't catch up on old times?" Spencer looked up at him in mild panic. He shook his head, but for the life of him, couldn't bring himself to respond. "Tell ya what- Why don't you say goodnight to your friends here, and we can go back to my place and pick up where we left off." He leaned closer to Reid and said in a stage whisper, "I hope you brought your handcuffs this time." He laid a hand on Spencer's shoulder, and he flinched. Morgan was out of his seat before Rossi could finish the swear that was on his lips.

"No!" Garcia shouted, grabbing Morgan's arms. Hotch and Rossi were on their feet as well. JJ and Emily, having noticed the commotion, were making their way across the bar.

"You got about two seconds to take your hand off of him before I break every damn bone in it."

A look of terror crossed the previously smug face, and he slowly withdrew his hand. "I'll uh… I'll just be going now. Good to see you again, Spencer." He hurried away, looking over his shoulder every few steps, until he disappeared into the crowd.

"What'd we miss?" JJ asked, looking around at the strange scene. "Spence?"

Reid was practically shaking. He gazed up at Morgan with a look of utter confusion. "I don't know what happened," he said pathetically.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

Reid nodded in agreement and allowed his friend to lead him away from the table and out of the bar.

The next day found Penelope Garcia sitting at Morgan's desk, bright-eyed and humming a tune as she waited for her co-workers to arrive. She greeted Hotch with a cheerful "Good morning, my Captain!" and the first cup of freshly brewed coffee.

"You're here early," he noted.

"Yeah well… early birds, worms, that kinda thing."

Hotch quirked a brow but didn't say anything. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Garcia," he called just when she'd let her guard down, "are you going to tell them?"

"Tell who… what, sir?"

The thirty-second stare-down that ensued negated any need for interrogation. "Okay! Just don't… look at me like that. It seriously creeps me out." She slumped in Morgan's chair. "What gave me away?"

"It was suspicious from the beginning, but I wasn't entirely sure until Morgan almost took a swing at your friend. When you grabbed Morgan's arms, you weren't looking at Morgan; you were looking at him."

She sighed. "His name is Ryan, and he's a friend from my acting troop. He wanted to work on his improv skills, and I thought that our boys could use a little push. Chance meets opportunity. You know how it goes."

"…"

"How much trouble am I in?" she asked in a small voice.

"That depends."

"May I ask on what? Sir?"

"It depends on how late those two get in today." A ghost of a smile curved the corners of his lips as he walked away.