When he saw the car he couldn't help but let out a low appreciative whistle. It was a Dodge Viper, year 2010. The car had a newer looking red paint job with two dazzling white stripes going straight down the middle.

"A beauty, isn't she?" The agent asked.

"A dream," he replied, eyes full of passion for the car.

As he got into the passenger seat he had a nagging feeling in the back of his head, something wasn't right. He strained his ears for any irregular sounds as the engine, and was rewarded by a faint tick from near the engine. His eyes widened with realization, there was a bomb planted in the car. The more he listened to it, the more distinguishable it became. He had to get out of the car. The ticking had started to get faster and he knew he had about a minute or two before it exploded. So he decided to go for the simple way of explaining.

Before Agent Morgan had time to start the engine he yelled, "THERE'S A BOMB IN THE CAR!"

Apparently he had startled the agent enough to understand what he had said. They flung opened the doors, and dived out of the vehicle, throwing themselves to the ground with hands over their heads. A few seconds later, they heard a loud explosion from behind them. He felt a sharp sting in his right arm, and briefly figured that the glass had cut him. He tried to make a move to get up but cried out as pain shot through his ankle and up his leg. After a few seconds of the pain in his ankle he fell unconscious.

Morgan slowly lifted himself off of the ground, dusting his clothing off and coughing lightly from the fumes. He turned to see the car blown to bits, and Alex lying on the ground, unmoving. He could see bits of glass in his arm, but his ankle was bloody, and looked to have a medium sized piece of metal in it. It was probably broken, but it still looked to be fixable. Quickly, he called for some paramedics and followed them after they slid him onto a stretcher and headed to the ambulance. Taking a quick look back at the car, which by now was crawling with people, it looked terrible.

There wasn't much left of it. The doors had broken off completely, the hood had been blown upward and was almost entirely shredded, the tires had been blown to charred bits, and the engine had exploded. All of the windows had been broken. The fire department had hosed it down but the whole car was still smoking. Basically, the car just looked like shit. No, correction, It was a charred piece of shit.

"Great", he mumbled to himself, and adding as an afterthought "hope my insurance would cover exploding cars."

As he followed his charge into the ambulance he thought, got a reason to get out of my paperwork now at least. He allowed himself a small smirk until he heard Hotch yell out. "I still want you to finish you're paperwork when you come back Morgan."

"How could you still joke when I was nearly blown to bits." He called back.

"When I'm not joking" Agent Hotchner deadpanned.

"You got it."

When he awoke the first time, his first thought was, "Damn, my head hurts." He felt as if he had been run over by an elephant. His whole lower leg felt numb, so he guessed he was in a hospital. Slowly, he peeled his eyes open, squinting to adjust to the light. Gradually, he was able to peel them completely apart, and blinked owlishly into the light.

He quickly scanned the room, noting the possible entrances and exits, or escape routes. Just in case he was attacked and needed a quick way out. That was what his dad had taught him.

He heard a low chuckle behind him and jumped out of the hospital bed, spinning 360 degrees and dropped into a fighting stance, and immediately regretted it as his body buckled underneath him and cried out as he painfully hit the floor. Just as he fell he caught sight of the familiar green eyes. He heard the agent scramble up, and call for help just before he blissfully fell into unconsciousness.

When Morgan saw how Alex adopted a perfect fighting stance when he heard him chuckle from behind him, he couldn't help but wonder just who he was taking in. He decided he would ask about it later, and called for help as his charge lost consciousness.

He couldn't help but think what he had just gotten himself into, offering to be a temporary guardian to a teenager. He had no clue what he would do if his charge got into trouble, or if he was in his rebellious stage. But he knew he would find out when they were in a regular routine, or somewhat of one. Everybody knew that routines get people killed, especially federal agents. He hoped that the kid wouldn't be too much trouble for him. He would ask the kid some more questions when he was well enough leave the hospital tomorrow. He didn't want to call it home, because he knew his ward probably wouldn't think about it as his home. Should he see if Alex wanted to see a shrink? He should probably discuss that with him when they get to the house.

The second time he awoke went a little bit better than before, at least it did for him. When he opened his eyes and saw Morgan sitting on the foot of his bed, reading the newspaper, and drinking coffee, a wolfish smile crept onto his face. He was going to get his payback for scaring him. Revenge is best served sweet. He quickly pretended to fall back asleep when he looked over to him and waited a few minutes.

Silently, he slithered out of his bed and onto the floor against the back wall, his fingers gripping the remote that adjusted the bed and when completely down, IV still stuck in his arm, he pressed on the up button for his feet. The sight was comical.

Morgan didn't notice what had happened for the first few seconds until he tilted backwards a little too much. His arms flew upwards to balance himself, and he dropped everything he was holding. The newspaper fell onto the floor, and the scolding hot coffee spilled on his lap, burning his legs and chest. When the coffee spilled, his hands flew down, and he toppled off the hospital bed, landing on the newspaper.

As Alex watched this, he couldn't help but laugh. The sight was hilarious. He had only expected him to spill his coffee in a rush to fix the bed. He had even halfway suspected nothing to happen at all. Like he had said earlier, Revenge is best served sweet, like coffee.

He stopped laughing when he saw the angry agent advancing on him. Oh no, this didn't look too good for him. He had just made an FBI agent, which happened to be his temporary guardian, angry. He was so dead.

Okay guys, I'm hoping to get a bit more reviews at least. Now that I have this chapter up, the next one is going to take longer because I will be working on Power Point and Trouble Maker. Also, in the last chapter, I accidentally had a random person named Austin, who just so happened to be a character in the old version. I will change that sometime later, but for now, Cya. Thanks for reading! ありがとう!