Walking into the J. Edgar Hoover building from the parking garage at 11:00 on the dot, Hotch kept a watchful eye on Reid. He seemed pensive. Hotch pushed the button to call the elevator, and discreetly asked, "Want to talk about it?"

The younger man blushed, but tried to answer, "I – umm . . . I'm afraid I might let you down. I don't want to mess up, but what if I do? When the cravings get really bad, I - I'm not sure I'll be able to be honest about it."

Hotch took a deep breath to answer just as the elevator doors opened. There were three people in the car preparing to leave, so instead he laid a supportive hand on Reid's back, and once the elevator was empty, ushered him inside. As they rode up together alone Hotch said, "You're bright, you're strong, and you know the consequences of losing the battle with this drug. You also have an entire family who are here to support you in this fight." At the worried look Reid flashed him, he answered, "No, I'm not going to tell them anything, but if you were to confide in them, they would willingly give you any support you asked for. I know you're worried about letting me down, but I'm concerned that you're not worried enough about letting yourself down." As they reached their floor, Hotch waited for acknowledgement that the younger man took his meaning. Reid offered a serious nod, and satisfied with that for the moment, the older man stepped off the elevator and into the familiar surroundings of the BAU offices. Reid followed closely at his heals.

Hotch marched directly to his office. As was his practice he left his door open to make himself more accessible to his team, but today he did this especially for Reid.

Reid had business to take care of first thing. He had been feeling guilty about the way he'd involved Emily in his actions in Texas. He'd given her no choice and hadn't at the time considered her feelings. Not finding her in the bullpen, on a hunch he headed toward J.J.'s office. Indeed, she was there clarifying points about a recent case in a file she was working on. He knocked lightly on the door to announce his presence, and both women looked up, their expressions quickly changing to shock. Reid looked behind him thinking there must be something really awful approaching. Finding nothing, he perplexedly turned back to his coworkers.

Emily, never one to mince words, blurted out, "What happened to you?"

The young man remained confused only a moment longer before he remembered the developing bruise below his left eye. His hand shot up to cover it before he realized what he was doing. He'd forgotten to create a cover story for his injuries. "Quick, think of something!" He silently berated himself. Remembering to stay as close to the truth as possible, he stammered out, "I . . . uhh, I was jumped on the way home last night." He tried to make eye contact while he said this, but he simply couldn't.

Luckily for him, this news staggered the ladies so much they didn't notice. They jumped up from their chairs and advanced on the young man, lavishing him with their anxious attentions. The concerned questions came at Reid so quickly, he wasn't sure who was asking what, "How did that happen? Did you call the police? Did they say anything? What do you remember about the attacker? How many attackers were there? Are you okay? Did they hurt more than your eye?"

He raised his hands in a placating manner and tried to calm them down, "I'm fine. No, they didn't hurt me any more than this. I'll file a report today. I'm fine. I swear."

Neither looked convinced. It was clear they wanted to press further, so Reid decided to change the subject as hastily as possible, "Hey, umm . . . Emily. I wanted to apologize for, well . . . acting so impulsively in Texas. Handing you my gun like that put you in a difficult situation . . .and . . . I'm sorry. You too J.J. I'm really sorry guys."

Both women thought this change of subject was odd. Most people who'd been mugged the night before would want to talk about the incident in far greater detail, and in this situation, that person might use the mugging to garner greater sympathy before apologizing in order to be more readily forgiven. Still considering the evidence before her, Emily spluttered out, "Umm, yeah. Okay. Well . . . don't do it again, okay?"

Reid could see both ladies were still stuck on his mugging story. He'd made his apology, and thought it best to beat a rapid retreat back to the bullpen. He quickly nodded his head, and backed away muttering, "Yeah, sure. It won't happen again." He was saved from further questioning when Garcia hurried in from the other direction. He used this distraction to quickly disappear down the hall, but not soon enough to avoid hearing Garcia ask, "Was that a bruise on Reid's face?" The young man was grateful to get out when he did. If Garcia had gotten her hands on him, she'd never let him go until he told the truth, then she'd smoother him with attention for days. This way Emily and J.J. would give her his story and with any luck she would buy it.

Nearly scrambling to his desk, Reid greeted Morgan along the way. Catching the concerned look on Morgan's face, he returned it with a sincere smile telling the man all was well. Morgan relaxed for a moment until the younger man sat a little too hastily and winced. Reid was quickly reminded of this morning's "conversation" with Hotch, and Morgan didn't miss the flinch. It only took him a moment to understand what had probably happened. Though he felt sorry for the kid, he couldn't help but also feel a little bit of satisfaction that Reid had gotten what he deserved.

Reid settled in and started working on his reports. Slowly it occurred to him he probably needed to clear the air with Morgan too. Softly, and slightly embarrassed, he said, "I'm sorry about last night." When Morgan looked up from his own administrative duties, he continued, "I-I don't know what I was thinking . . . when I . . . umm, you know." Morgan nodded encouragingly, "It was reckless. . . and I'm sorry." It hadn't come out quite the way he'd wanted, but at least he'd said it. He hoped his friend wasn't too angry and would eventually forgive him.

"Reid, it's over, man. Forget about it." He received a small smile from the kid, then went on, one meaningful eyebrow raised in warning, " . . . but I meant what I said. If you pull anything like that again, I'll wring your neck."

Reid knew he meant it, but he smiled even wider as he nodded his understanding. It was nice knowing his big brother cared enough to threaten him with physical harm to protect him.

Emily returned just as the mail-room person emerged from Garcia's office to deliver their own mail. He dropped a couple of bills and a fitness magazine in Morgan's mail basket, a bright red envelope and a circular in Emily's, and Reid received a familiar blue envelope he knew was a letter from his mother. Everyone on the team had taken to receiving their personal mail at the office since they spent so much time out in the field. It was safer than leaving it in their individual home boxes for days at a time.

Bustling out of her office, Garcia seemed distinctly annoyed about something. Mumbling to herself, she didn't make any sense at all until she reached Morgan's desk. Here she stated quite clearly, "Why am I getting all these catalogs?" Her arms were full until she dumped them unceremoniously on his desk. Reid stood up to get a better look at the offending collection. They weren't at all what he'd expected.

Morgan picked up one of them and started thumbing through it as he answered, "What's the problem, Mama? You love shopping."

Still agitated, "Yes! Yes, I do. But why THESE catalogs? Do I look like I would be interested in something like this?"

Morgan had to admit he didn't think so.

"How did they find me?" Garcia continued as J.J. and Rossi approached to see what the commotion was about.

Reid was fairly certain he knew the answer to why she would suddenly be getting all these hunting and fishing catalogs, "Did you make any purchases recently that would resemble anything in these catalogs?"

Confused, Garcia thought about that, "About two months ago I bought a couple of sleeping bags to donate to the shelter, but why do I deserve to get all of these because of one act of kindness?"

She was right. One out-of-character purchase probably wasn't enough, "Did you buy anything else?"

Thinking about this, it suddenly occurred to her, "When I was in the store to buy the sleeping bags, there was this really cute duck whistle." Rossi looked amused by this, "It was kinda expensive so I didn't get it then, but I couldn't just NOT have it, so I went on-line and bought it the next day. You should see it. It's bright yellow and has the cutest quacky whistle." Again Rossi grinned.

Needing a bit more information to make his diagnosis, Reid asked, "And you made both of these purchases with a credit card?"

Garcia gave a wide-eyed nod.

Matter-of-factly he stated, "That's why you're getting all these catalogs. There are direct marketing companies that specialize in collecting and manipulating the information you give them by making purchases. Generally, they're able to sort out single buys, like if you only bought the sleeping bags, they would have decided you weren't the type of buyer these catalogs wanted. But you bought again a day later, so you started looking like what they wanted."

Garcia was shocked by this news, "So, what you're saying is they're profiling me?" Reid had never thought of it that way, but he nodded the affirmative. Garcia jokingly stated, "I hate profilers." With this, she gathered up her collection and dumped it all in the nearest recycling bin.

Rossi simply couldn't let it go at that, "I think what you bought was a duck call. Not a whistle."

Garcia gave him a deadpan look, "What's the difference?"

Rossi, not expecting to have to explain said, "Well, I suppose the difference is how it's used." Taking in the confused looks from the entire team, he pressed on, though now he regretted even bringing it up, "A call is used to lure in game. A whistle is a toy."

Trying her best to at least look interested, Garcia answered, "Huh, guess it's a whistle then. I'm not planning to take it hunting within my lifetime. It's too cute for that." Rossi knew when he was beat. He shook his head and wandered away leaving the younger members of his team to the discussion. Garcia turned to Reid now, changing the subject back without a second thought, "So, they get my information from my credit card purchases?"

Reid nodded his head, "Yes, that and from any queries you make to individual catalogs, or any big purchases like a house or car where you might have to take out a loan." Conveying new information to others always made him a little excited which made his speech speed up and his vocal inflections rise, "Oh! And if you move! Fill out a change-of-address card and they get that information too!" The cheese-eating grin he graced the group with made everyone smile and shake their heads at his unending stores of both knowledge and geekiness.

With a sly look, Garcia asked, "And you said they keep all this information in a big data base . . . which is connected to a computer." Without formality, she turned to leave.

Knowing she was going to try to erase her information, or possibly worse, from these data bases, Reid raised a finger to stop her, and hurriedly said, "It won't help." This stopped Garcia in her tracks. She wheeled around to face the younger man, and he finished with a shrug, "Make another purchase with a credit card and you'll go right back into the data base. If you think about it, what they're doing in most cases is ensuring you only get the catalogs you're interested in instead of a bunch of random catalogs you're not. It was just a fluke this time."

Garcia was not convinced. She would have to think of a way to get even with her new nemesis, but this reminded her she had another bit of business to take care of with her young friend, "I heard about your exploits in Texas my fine feathered federalie."

Reid didn't like the look on Garcia's face. She was the nicest, kindest person he knew, but she never held back when she had something to say. He gulped and waited for it.

She slowly advanced on him, "I expect you to come home to me safely. No matter what. Every time." She was directly under his nose now. He answered her with a wide-eyed, frightened nod. He couldn't see the rest of the team grinning around him, but he knew they were. Garcia finished with, "If I find out you put yourself in that kind of avoidable danger again, I'll personally pluck you, Precious." She held his eyes for only a moment, then flashed him a grin and flounced away to do whatever damage she could to the evil direct marketers.

Finally able to breathe again, Reid exhaled and looked around at the rest of the team. Morgan and Emily chuckled as they moved back to their paperwork. J.J. was smiling as well, but studying him to make sure he'd gotten the message and understood they all felt that way. Reid dropped his eyes feeling quite penitent, but again experiencing the warmth he felt knowing his family cared enough to yell at him like that.

XOXOXOXOXO

As 4:00 rolled around, Reid realized he hadn't checked in with Hotch all day. He went to fill his coffee cup and wandered up to the older man's office. He leaned nonchalantly on the door frame, mug in hand, and was waved in to sit in the guest chair. Hotch was on his office phone seeming irritated, though, as always, carefully controlled, by something he was hearing. Reid only caught half of the conversation, "I'm sure Agent Rossi can take care of . . . Yes, Ma'am . . . I understand . . . of course . . . we'll be there." Sighing, he carefully hung up the phone. Reid got the distinct impression he was being careful with the phone to keep himself from slamming it down. "I have to go out of town for a few days. Director Strauss is sending Rossi and me to Seattle to give a presentation at a law enforcement conference."

Reid nervously played with his hands, waiting to hear what his fate would be while Hotch was away on this unscheduled trip.

Hotch hadn't had time yet to figure this out, but he offered, "I suppose you could come with us . . ." Reid's head shot up to give his boss a hurt look. Hotch understood that taking the young man with him would be the equivalent of treating him like an untrustworthy child, but what else could he do? He wasn't about to leave him alone right now. One other idea occurred to him. He sighed and pressed on, "What would you think about staying with Morgan for a few days?"

Reid bit his lower lip and thought about his options. He could spend the weekend cooped up in a hotel with nothing to do, or he could spend the weekend being babysat by Morgan, who probably wouldn't want that responsibility anyway. He pleadingly looked at his boss and asked, "Can't I just stay by myself in my own apartment? It's just for a few days, right?" He didn't really think Hotch would go for it, but he had to try.

The young man was correct. His boss gave him a skeptical look and admonished, "Reid, you know I can't let you do that. I won't leave you alone until you beat this thing."

Reid noticed the return of the familiar moniker his boss used for him, but nodded his head in understanding, "I'd like to stay with Morgan then. If he doesn't mind."

Hotch nodded his head and picked up his phone. He dialed, waited, then said into the speaker, "Morgan, can you come into my office? Thank you."

They waited in silence for Morgan to arrive. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. In less than a minute he was knocking lightly on the open door. He didn't wait to be invited, but easily ambled in and asked, "What's up?"

Hotch looked at Reid, who simply returned his gaze. He was too embarrassed to ask himself, so the older man turned to Morgan and said, "I just learned I have to go out of town this weekend." It was really all that needed to be said.

Morgan nodded his head saying with determination, "Kid, you're staying with me." Seeing the younger man's overly-grateful look, Morgan let him know he wasn't being inconvenienced by this, "It'll be fun."

Relieved, Hotch said, "Good, then it's settled. Rossi and I have to leave in a couple of hours, so you'll go home with Morgan tonight and I'll be back Sunday late afternoon. Here's a spare key to my apartment. Feel free to come and go if you need to." He handed the key to Reid and walked the two men to the door. As Reid exited, Hotch quietly said, "Morgan, can I talk to you for a minute?" It wasn't very subtle, but Reid knew the two "grown-ups" wanted to talk about him. He rolled his eyes and continued walking back to his desk.

"Morgan, keep an eye on him, huh?" At the grim look he received from the younger man, Hotch put a hand up to stop the rebuke, "I know. I know. You're always watching out for him, but he looks tired. I think he needs to take it easy this weekend. I'll leave it up to your judgment, but if he needs to rest you'll have to enforce it. Are you going to be okay with that?"

Morgan remembered hearing the kid sneeze a couple of times today, and realized Hotch was probably right, "No problem, Hotch. We'll rent some movies and take it real easy."

Satisfied, Hotch clapped Morgan on the shoulder, and sincerely said, "Thank you, Morgan. We both really appreciate this."

Walking toward the door, Morgan responded with, "It's no problem, Hotch. I'd do anything for the kid."

Back in the bullpen, Morgan walked out into the entrance hall to make a discreet phone call. He dialed his cell and waited. At the answer, he said, "Hey Pretty Lady . . . " He chuckled at the woman's response, "Yeah? Tell me more." He crooned into the phone. Listening to the response, he suddenly remembered why he was calling. He dropped the ladies-man act and seriously said, "Hey, uhh, listen. I'm going to have to take a rain check on our date tonight." Again he listened and chuckled, "Yeah, I know, but this was unavoidable. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next weekend. Okay, I'll call you in a couple of days." He hung up the phone allowing himself a moment of regret, but quickly shook it off. The kid needed him and he wasn't about to let a lovely lady get in the way of being there for him.