Chapter 5: Morgan's POV

Derek Morgan entered his house and tossed his keys into the dish by the door. He slid off his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. He pulled a beer from the fridge and took a long drink. Today had been a very eventful and weird day. It hadn't just been the party either, although watching Paige beat the crap out of Lila had been a treat he hadn't expected. He also had a feeling that Reid and Paige were going to be on the rocks for a little while, and this made him happy in a twisted way.

His feelings for Paige hadn't gone away when she and Reid had finally gotten together. He knew his desire was probably just amplified by the fact that she was unattainable. He'd taken psychology, he knew that people always wanted what they couldn't have.

However, no matter how much he tried to explain it to himself the feelings just didn't go away. Every time Reid mentioned how happy he and Paige were together, every time he read one of Paige's articles in the paper, every time he saw her his heart ached.

He'd tried to make light of it when he'd driven her home. He'd meant for his offer of sex to be a joke, and for the most part it had been. Even though he thought he was in love with her, he couldn't do that to his best friend. However he was pretty sure Paige had seen right through him.

He remembered Paige telling him about how she could read faces. Had she read his? Could she tell how he felt about her? Too late, he remembered how he'd assured Paige how beautiful she was when she saw Lila. He'd said it a little too passionately for it to be casual flattery. He hoped she'd been too distracted at the time to notice. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. He really should stop profiling himself. It would just drive him crazy.

He flopped onto his couch. This morning had been really strange. On his way to work he'd been almost sure that a car was following him. It had been a small blue sedan, and it had stayed practically glued to his bumper all the way until he turned into the FBI building parking lot. The only thing that hadn't made him report it was that the car had been driven by a young woman. It was probably just a coincidence.

However, he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that he was being watched all day. Every time he left the BAU it was like he had a permanent case of the shivers. Not to mention that, just for a moment, he thought that he'd seen that same girl at the party. She looked very familiar. Had he dated her at some point? The whole thing made him feel dazed, like everything was surreal. He looked down at his beer bottle, wishing it was something stronger. After a day like today, he needed a good scotch. He settled for another beer.

He weighed the pros and cons of going back out and walking down the street to the bar. On the plus side, maybe he'd relax and shake the paranoia that had been haunting him. On the down side he didn't want to get drunk and bring a woman home. In a weird way he felt like it would be disloyal. That was one of the reasons he hadn't been dating lately. Between the depression of being in unrequited love and his weird loyalty to Paige, he hadn't been to the bar in almost two months.

He chastised himself for being pathetic. Maybe a new woman was just what he needed to get over this slump. He looked down at himself and decided he was dressed all right. After a few minutes he was walking down to the bar, conveniently located just down the street. It was a good thing too, because he'd already had a couple beers, and driving wasn't a safe option.

He hadn't made it there yet, when he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned to see a beautiful woman, dressed to kill. She looked embarrassed.

"Hi," she said. "Can you help me? I dropped my cell phone under someone's car and I'm wearing a skirt...and I would be flashing the whole street if I tried to get it. Would you mind?" Morgan smiled. That had been too easy.

"Sure," he said. "Which car is it?" She showed him, and he squatted down on the ground, trying not to get his pants dirty from the gritty street. He peered underneath the car, squinting trying to see the cell phone in the dark. He couldn't see anything. "Are you sure it's under here?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she said. At that moment something struck him on the back of the head, blinding him with pain. He hit the ground hard, the rough cement scratching his face. He groaned, trying to get up. His hand automatically went to his waistband, searching for a gun that wasn't there. He'd taken it off to go to the bar, since a gun usually scared the women off.

He heard the car door open and someone was dragging him by the back of his shirt. He tried to get his footing, and succeeded for a moment before a sharp shoe kicked the back of his knees making him fall into the open door of the car. He turned his aching head, opening his mouth to yell, when he was hit on the back of his head again. His vision tunneled, and though he struggled against it, unconsciousness overtook him.

He woke up after what seemed like a long time, but he couldn't tell how long he'd been out. His head felt heavy and his eyes couldn't focus. There was a light on somewhere, but it hurt his eyes. He rolled his head away from the light unable to lift it completely. He couldn't move, and from his limited viewpoint he could tell that he was chained to a chair. He tried to remember what happened, but his brain felt fuzzy. He could think enough to realize he'd been drugged, but beyond that...

He heard footsteps, and he struggled to see the person who was walking up to him. The footsteps were sharp, like high heels. The woman bent down so she could see into his face.

"Hey darling," she said soothingly. "How are you feeling?" He tried to speak and it came out more of a low groan. "Ssh," she said, her hand cupping his cheek. "It's all-right," she said. "We're together now. No one can separate us, not your job, not your friends, and not that girl Paige either."

Paige's name triggered something in his brain. She was important. She was important to him. Did this woman hurt her? He struggled weakly against his chains, but they bound him tightly.

"Ssh," she said again. "Hush now." He felt a cool wet glass at his lips, and he realized that he was thirsty. He drank the water in large gulps, soothing his parched throat. Almost immediately he felt the strong urge to sleep. He tried to keep his eyes open. "Go to sleep,baby," she said softly. "Everything will be okay."