A/N: Hello, loves! In this chapter, Reid and Morgan try to figure things out after their night together. And, another murder has tension mounting within the team.

Reid got home, locked the door behind him and threw his keys on the kitchen counter. He took a quick shower, then crawled under the covers of his own bed and assessed the state of his tired body. His neck hurt; he thought maybe he'd pulled a muscle while twisting around to examine the crawlspace. There was a vague pounding behind his eyes, nothing unusual about that.

And, thanks to Derek Morgan, he was sore, but that wasn't so bad. He grinned slightly; after having gotten a good look at Morgan's fully erect member, he'd been prepared to limp away, crippled, but this light throbbing was nothing more than a nice reminder. His grin deepened as he thought of the noises Morgan had made, and of how he had held Reid's hips in a death grip once he got going, as if he were afraid Reid would somehow manage to slip out from under him.

Amazing sex. Phenomenal, really.

Morgan... It was funny, how oblivious he'd been to his signals. He wondered how long Morgan had felt that way. He supposed it started after Hankel-if it hadn't been for Morgan, he doubted he would have been able to reclaim himself from the trauma, from the drugs. Morgan had been a rock, had provided a kind, steady voice in his head to counter the crazy chatter that Hankel's insanity and the Dilaudid had unleashed.

Reid had never considered the possibility that attraction had had anything to do with Morgan's concern. He still didn't think it had. More likely, that attraction was dragged to the surface at some point afterward, maybe some night when Reid had called, desperate, and Morgan had dropped everything to come over and sit out a round of withdrawal with him.

Morgan was easily the best friend he'd ever had.

Going to bed with him had probably been a mistake. Something in Morgan's voice told him he might have mistaken his despair for something else, but he was too tired to worry about it now; he took his lamp setting down to "low" and turned on his side. Just closing his eyes and being still felt good, and his thoughts were soon wandering pleasantly. Then an image flooded into his mind, the dead girl's face, her eyes, and the numbers piled up, one on top of the other, and the thought struck him...

Fourteen. She was only fourteen.

A rush of grief welled up inside him, not just for her, but for all of them, for all the kids whose lives and deaths had crossed his path. He remembered them all, the ones who'd suffered, the ones who'd died through violence, and the one... the one who never got to live at all.

He angrily brushed away a tear, plumped up his pillow, and forced himself to concentrate on remembering how it had felt to have Derek Morgan, his good dear friend, pounding away inside him.

When Morgan awoke the next morning, he felt unsettled. He rolled over and looked at the empty half of the bed; a long brown hair on the indention in the pillow was the only visible sign that Reid had ever been there, but Morgan could have sworn he still felt his presence next to him. Resolutely, he brushed off the feeling and began to get ready for work.

He stepped into the shower and cranked up the hot water. He just stood there for a long time, turning to let the stream hit him in the face, on his back, his chest. He finally reached for the soap and lathered up, determined to shake himself out of the haze that Reid had left him in, wondering what the hell was so wrong that the damn kid couldn't even share a bed with him for one lousy night.

Morgan was still in the shower by the time Reid got to the office. He'd been determined to arrive early. He wanted to be at his desk, immersed in work when Morgan came in. Later, when he heard his voice, he glanced up, but avoided Morgan's eyes. He just nodded a greeting, and got a "Hey, kid," in return. They managed to go through the entire day without either of them saying another word directly to the other.

That evening, Reid made a point of leaving while Morgan was still closing down his computer.

In the days that followed their night together, Morgan couldn't get his mind off of Reid. There was the sex, of course-it was hard not to daydream about the skinny young man writhing warm and naked underneath him, the wet mouth on his hot skin, the way it felt to be inside him...

Keeping his hands to himself while sitting next to him in a meeting became a new kind of torture.

But, it wasn't just that. Morgan could feel the weight the kid was carrying around with him, and he was worried. The job took its toll on everyone eventually, but Reid-he'd begun his career at such a young age. He was stronger than he looked, Morgan knew that, but... Lying in bed alone, Morgan's mind kept grappling with ideas on what to do, how to help him, now that Reid seemed determined to keep him at arm's length, emotionally.

Morgan didn't like that, didn't understand. He thought of those first few months after Hankel, when Reid's distress had spilled out at work, so much so that he'd gotten in trouble with Hotch-something Morgan would not have believed possible. He thought of how the kid had finally broken down, telling him things he'd never put into words before, like how he felt about putting his mother in an institution, his father's abandonment, and how good it was when the drug had made him forget.

He thought of later, the two of them greeting midnight in a local all-night eatery, drinking coffee for hours. Those nights, Reid didn't say much, but Morgan had known he needed the company.

And, honestly, those had been the times when he could have seduced him. He didn't think it would have taken a lot; Reid had fallen asleep with his head in Morgan's lap more than once, he trusted him that much. If Morgan had been another sort of man, he could have parlayed that trust into sex quite easily.

But, he hadn't, not because he didn't want to, but because it wouldn't have been fair. Reid had been struggling with enough demons without his clouding the issue, and Morgan's restraint had been more than rewarded when he finally saw the brightness return to those beautiful eyes, when the amazing smile had again come easily to his lips, when he'd laughed.

If Morgan had missed his chance, well-he'd never questioned whether it was worth it.

But, now? He wasn't sure what path the two of them were on. One thing he was certain of-this time, somehow, Reid had taken the lead.

And, Morgan was confused as hell.

After yet another full day of Reid not meeting his eyes, Morgan trapped him in the break room and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey-you avoiding me, man?" He tried to use a teasing tone.

Reid looked up, flustered. "No. No, of course not. What makes you say that?"

"You haven't said two words to me since... the other night."

Reid shook his head. "Oh, well-I've just got a lot on my mind. I'm sorry, I wasn't-"

"Spencer. We talked about this. I'm not going to let our friendship get messed up just because we-you know, had a roll in the hay together."

"Shh!" Frowning, Reid looked past Morgan's shoulder, making sure they weren't likely to be joined by another team member. He turned his gaze back to Morgan, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come over that night. It wasn't right. I feel like I just... used you, or something."

"Hey-" Morgan glanced back at the door, then tipped Reid's face up to look into his eyes. "I was glad you came over, and I'm glad we did what we did. Don't go being all embarrassed just because you came to me for a little comfort. It was a hell of a lot better choice than some of the things you could have done. Right?"

Reid smiled sheepishly. "Well... yeah. I guess I've just been over-thinking things, as usual."

"Yeah. Well, I'm here for you, kid. Anytime. Give me a call, we can go grab some burgers, talk-whatever you need. I care about you, remember?"

Reid nodded.

Morgan smiled, patted Reid's shoulder and left. Reid turned to the counter and stood staring at his still-empty coffee cup. He reached for the pot of thick office grog and filled it, then added a fat pile of sugar.

Derek Morgan, he thought.

The last thing he needed from him was fast food and talk.

Three.

That was the number of weeks between the discovery of Amy Chappelle's body and this one. The latest victim's name was Julie Bedford and she was thirteen.

The team was gathered in the conference room and Hotch's mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"Come on, people. What do we have?"

"Nothing," Morgan answered bitterly. "This cat's not following any known pattern. We can't find a connection between him and the dump sites-"

"Because there isn't one." Reid frowned as he stood in front of the map board, a marker in one hand, arms folded across his midsection.

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked. "How can there not be? If he's not an owner or renter, then maybe he's a worker-a plumber, or electrician, or-"

"Garcia's researched every possibility along those lines," JJ said.

"It's not the dump sites. It's the victims." Reid's face was a mask of stony concentration. "We know from the autopsy reports that all the girls had particulate matter from dust and mold in their lungs when they died. That suggests that he took them all to the same place to kill them." He turned back to the table and punched the intercom button.

"Garcia?"

"Yes, dear boy."

"I need you to re-examine all of the victim's backgrounds, go through their parents' financial histories, relationships, everything-"

"Reid, I already did that! I've checked all of that-"

"Obviously, not thoroughly enough." Reid's voice was hard.

"Reid!" Morgan warned. "Watch your mouth."

Reid turned a grim look at him, but a chastened Garcia spoke up. "No, no, he's right-I was so focused on the dump sites, I probably missed something. I'm sorry, I'll get right on it."

Reid picked up his case file, glared at Morgan and strode out of the room. Morgan watched him leave, then noticed the rest of the team staring at him. He shrugged.

"I'll go talk to him. I want to know what he's thinking."

He found Reid in the file room, flipping through folders.

"What the hell is going on with you, man?"

"Nothing. I just don't need you correcting me in front of the team."

"Well, somebody needs to. I know you're frustrated, we all are-but it's no excuse to take it out on Garcia."

Reid stopped and faced him. "I wasn't. I was just pointing out that she missed something."

"We don't know that!"

"I know it. There's no connection between the houses that the victims were left in other than that, for one reason or another, they were uninhabited at the time of the dump. One was unfinished construction, one was a crack house shut down by the police. One was a perfectly nice place that was on the market to be sold. The one before this was condemned, the latest had been seized in an IRS audit. There's no common denominator between them other than the fact that they're empty, and in fairly close proximity to one another, which I believe indicates that the unsub finds them convenient."

"Ok, fine, but there's no connection between the girls, either. They don't live on the same block or in the same neighborhood; two of them didn't even live in the same town. Two went to the same school, but the other three didn't. Their families aren't related. One had a medical condition, but the others didn't. There's no common denominator between all of them."

"Of course there is. They're all between thirteen and fifteen years old, all blonde, all average height and weight for their ages-"

"Oh, wow! They're all average-there's a big clue!"

"I mean, they're all a type. The unsub's... type. He's choosing them for their age and physical characteristics, but no one's reported anyone unusual cruising their schools, there've been no reports of near-misses, of some creep making contact-I believe he's studying them, that he has the time and the opportunity to observe them at his leisure before going after them. They must have something else in common-a regular appointment with someone, maybe a therapist or an orthodontist-"

"Garcia would have found that through insurance records or credit card charges by now."

"Then, it's something else. A group activity-community theater, or lessons of some kind."

Morgan pursed his lips in thought. "Yeah. Something they could do cheap, or for free. Maybe something that could be paid for by cash or check. My sisters used to take singing lessons and my mom would just stick a twenty in an envelope every week."

Reid nodded. "Ok, we need to talk to the parents, find out what kind of extracurricular activities the girls were into. From the geographic coordinates, I believe that if we can figure out where he's finding them, we can also get an idea of where he takes them."

"Come on." They headed back to the conference room and soon JJ, Reid, and Morgan were on the phone, putting grieving parents through yet another interview.