And now the fun begins . . .

I love Criminal Minds, I live Criminal Minds, I order a Venti iced coffee with soy milk from Starbucks with Criminal Minds, but sadly, I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

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As the jet touched down Reid breathed a sigh of relief. Now all he had to do was find his way downtown to the bar he knew would contain the drugs he so desperately wanted. He felt a deep sense of guilt knowing he was about to give into his cravings after so many months of sobriety, but he simply couldn't face this night alone without some help. Reid knew he needed to calm down before anyone on the team saw his anxiety. They would ask questions if they saw him in this state. As they taxied in, he focused on breathing deeply and calming his nerves.

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As the jet came to a stand-still the team sprang to life gathering their things and preparing to disembark. Hotch remained in his seat, waiting. Reid would have to pass him to exit. Morgan, standing over Hotch, gave his boss a questioning look. Hotch caught the look and returned it with a reassuring nod. He hoped he seemed more confident than he actually felt.

He kept one eye on Reid the entire time, trying to gage his emotional state. As the young man gathered his jacket and bag he seemed tense, but when he turned to face the team his aspect changed to one of casualness, the tension well hidden, but not entirely expunged.

As the team began to exit, Reid moved closer. Hotch noticed he was avoiding eye contact with everyone, but especially with him. Using his comparable height to gain the young agent's attention, Hotch stood directly in the lanky man's path. He was careful to keep his body language neutral. Reid looked up and Hotch saw a brief flash of uncharacteristic irritation in his eyes, but then it was gone. Hotch waited patiently for Reid to answer his unasked question.

Reid knew what his boss wanted to hear. He barely avoided rolling his eyes as he answered, "I'm going to an N.A. meeting right now. I'm not even going home first, but I have to go now if I'm going to get there on time."

Hotch realized it wasn't Reid lying to him, but the addiction that was, "Sounds like a good idea. Come on. I'll drop you off."

Reid hadn't prepared for this, "Uh, tha-that's okay. I'll find my way. Thanks."

"I insist. It's no bother." He reached up to put a supportive hand on Reid's shoulder, but was startled when the young man flinched away.

"I'll be fine, Hotch! I'm going directly there. You don't need to babysit me!" With this he shoved past his boss and nearly fell out of the door. Hotch let him go. He would have to find a different approach.

Reid shouldn't have been surprised to find Morgan waiting for him, but he was. He rolled his eyes, seeing his friend leaning casually against the wall inside the terminal. He tried ignoring Morgan and continued walking, though from past experience he didn't really expect this evasion technique to work. Morgan jogged to catch up with the young doctor, "Hey kid, hold up for a second." He clapped a hand on Reid's shoulder and very nearly spun him around in his tracks. "You mind telling me what that was about? I know you heard me calling you."

The irritation was getting harder for Reid to hide, and Morgan got a blast of it from the first glance, "I'm late, Morgan. I need to get out of here!"

Morgan gave him a concerned look, but this time Reid wasn't giving in. He was a man on a mission, and no one, not even the great Derek Morgan, was going to stop him.

But Morgan wasn't giving up the fight so easily either, "What's going on, Reid? What's this about?"

The use of his sir name coming from Morgan meant he was all business, and for Reid that signaled a strong likelihood of being blocked from his mission. He was really feeling his cravings now, so he decided the best way to get out of this was to play nice. "I'm sorry, man. It's just been a difficult couple of days for me. I guess I'm anxious to get home and decompress." He mentally crossed his fingers hoping this would be enough to convince his friend he was in no danger of self-destructing.

It wasn't, but Morgan didn't have any probable cause to hold him on either. He had to let Reid go and hope he did the right thing, "I know it has, kid. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I promise." He smiled, not really making eye contact, "You can stop worrying about me now. Okay?"

Morgan had to let him go, but he didn't have to like it. He stepped aside and watched his friend quicken his pace toward the airport exit. Hotch approached Morgan with a questioning look, "Everything okay?"

Morgan shook his head, "Something's not right, Hotch, but I can't put my finger on it. He promised me he was heading straight home, but I don't know."

Hotch tensed at the change in Reid's story, "He told me he was headed for an N.A. meeting. He was telling us what he thought we wanted to hear." Both men took off at a run in the direction the young man had followed. Morgan quickly out-distanced Hotch, and when he reached Reid, who was just about to enter the taxi he had hailed, he had to take the situation under control himself. Making as little a scene as possible, Morgan threw and arm around Reid's shoulder, steered him away from the taxi, kicked the door shut, and declared to the driver, "Next time, pal."

Reid was incensed. He stopped in his tracks, and turned on his friend, "What are you doing, Morgan? That was my ride!"

Morgan wasn't mincing words now, "Ride to where, kid?"

Reid knew he was busted, but his drive for the drug made him try to push it further, "That's none of your business!" As his pitch rose, he heard his voice crack. Damn! Why did his vocal chords always deceive him like this? He'd gone through puberty years ago, but you'd never know it when he got upset.

"I'll tell you what. You give me the address of that N.A. meeting you told Hotch you were going to, and I'll drive you there myself, and buy you a coffee on the way."

Damn, again! Of course the two men had talked. Why hadn't he kept his stories consistent? First rule of deception: 'keep it simple.' And of course he didn't have an actual address at hand. He could remember the address of the meeting he'd attended a few days ago, but were they having a meeting right now? The odds were not in his favor.

Morgan watched as Reid quickly worked through this dilemma. It always amused him how easy the kid's face and body language were to read. First he saw the feeling of being caught, then frustration at being caught, then denial that he'd been caught, and lastly acceptance at being caught.

That's what Hotch was looking for as well before he moved in. Reid's hands were buried deep in his pockets and he was looking at his shoes. "You lied, Spencer." The use of his first name coming from Hotch was fully unexpected. He couldn't remember Hotch ever once using it to address him, and he didn't know what it meant. Something about his tone though made him want to hide behind Morgan. Glancing up, he found that stern look Hotch seemed to save only for him. He winced inside and immediately felt further dispirited. This too played across the young man's affect, and Hotch took his opportunity, "Morgan, can you take Spencer home and help him pack, then drive him to my apartment? He'll be staying with me for at least a week."

This surprised both of the men standing before him, but Morgan knew he needed to take this opportunity to mobilize Reid while he was still in a fairly acquiescent frame of mind. Placing his arm back around the young man's shoulders, he said, "Sure, Hotch. Where are you going to be?"

Already moving toward the parking lot, he said, "I need to pick up some supplies. I'll meet you there in an hour."

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Reid was silent for the entire walk to the parked cars. He was confused about what had transpired here tonight. What had happened to his plan? How had he let his coworkers ambush him like this? He admittedly was not at the top of his game right now, but was he really so off that he had forfeited his right to decide his fate for himself? He thought about how angry this should make him, but strangely, he instead felt safe, calmer and less agitated. Reid decided Hotch was better at understanding him than he thought.

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Thank you for reading. I hope you're enjoying. Please do review; hearing from you keeps me writing.