So, I have a big paper due this week, but I had to get this published first. Right? Now I can concentrate on the boring stuff. *sigh*

I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.

XOXOXOXO

Morgan led the way into the Birch and Barley. Reid, trailing behind him, was feeling a bit bashful about seeing the rest of the team. Logically, he knew they couldn't possibly tell he had been spanked, not once, but twice today. Still, they were experienced profilers. He needed to pull it together before they started suspecting something.

Hotch was another problem all together. Reid had no idea how he would react to the news that Morgan had disciplined him. He hoped Hotch wouldn't add to his punishment. His butt couldn't take much more today and his throat was beginning to hurt - probably from crying so much.

The rest of the team had already arrived. They were sitting at a large round table in the middle of the dining room laughing and having a few drinks. Morgan and Reid made their way across the crowded room to join them. Prentice and Garcia had saved a seat between them for Morgan. There was another seat open between Garcia and J.J. for Reid. Next to J.J. sat Rossi and then Hotch, who, despite sitting at a round table, still gave the appearance of occupying the head of the table.

The two men greeted everyone, but Hotch didn't miss the timid glance and general lack of eye contact he received from Reid. Catching Morgan's eye, he wordlessly asked if everything was alright. Morgan flashed him a quick, cocky smile. Then, seeing Reid gingerly take his seat, Hotch understood what had happened and he relaxed.

Reid noticed that someone had already ordered him a drink. Taking a sip, he found it was only a Coke. He normally ordered a Brandy when he came to this pub and was surprised that whoever got this for him didn't know that. He didn't want to offend anyone, so decided to finish it off.

Once everyone was settled, they ordered dinner and then fell into a friendly banter. When the conversation began to flow toward work-related topics, someone would drag them away from the subject toward something a bit lighter.

Downing the last of his soda and with the waitress nowhere to be found, Reid excused himself and made his way to the bar. Hotch keenly watched him go. Quietly excusing himself from the group, he intercepted the young man just as he finished placing his drink request, "Hold that order, please," he cordially instructed the bartender. Before Reid could protest, Hotch softly said, "No alcohol, Spencer. Not tonight. We have some business to take care of, and I don't want your capacities decreased."

Reid thought he knew what this was about, but he couldn't figure out how Hotch knew. Morgan hadn't had a moment alone with their boss to discuss it yet. Deciding to address this before Hotch could get him alone, he pressed forward, "I know. I shouldn't have given Morgan such a hard time. I told him I was sorry."

Holding up a hand to halt the younger man's confession, Hotch responded, "I'm sure Morgan took care of whatever happened between you two."

Reid blushed as he remembered the sting in his rear end, but he relaxed slightly realizing he wouldn't be punished again for his behavior with Morgan.

Continuing, Hotch said, "We need to start focusing on a recovery plan for you. I want you to be able to create a list of your triggers tonight, and if you're drinking you won't be as thorough. After tonight though, I think it would be a good idea for you to avoid alcohol for a while anyway."

"What? You can't just make up arbitrary rules. Even though you and Morgan don't seem to notice, I am an adult. I can have a drink if I want one. Everyone is drinking tonight, and one Brandy isn't going to impair my thinking." He turned back to the bar to re-order his drink.

Though the establishment was quite raucous, Hotch's next words seemed to engulf the young man, "No alcohol, Spencer. If you continue to push me on this, we will leave right now."

Reid gazed down at the top of the bar trying to decide what to do. He really wanted that drink right now. He felt he deserved it after the day he had endured. Hotch wasn't going to budge though. Feeling very much put upon, he gave in – more or less, "Fine! I'll just drink water then. I am in prison after all. Why should I have anything more than bread and water?" In a huff he stalked back to their table and took his seat.

The rest of the team noticed the younger man's choleric mood, but it had become such a common occurrence lately they mostly ignored it any more. Morgan, however, stared at Reid waiting for eye contact he never received. He turned his attention to Hotch as the older man returned to the table. Again, he received no acknowledgement as Hotch was busy giving Reid a hard look that the young doctor pretended he didn't see.

The team was rescued from the rapidly growing tension when the food was served. Slowly, Hotch and Morgan began to rejoin the conversation. Reid, however, continued sulking. He pushed his food around on the plate, never taking a bite, ordered only water as promised, and to completely push Hotch's buttons, he occasionally took a small bite of his bread. With each bite, he glanced at Hotch making sure he got the point.

Hotch saw every juvenile act of defiance, but decided not to let it ruin his or anyone else's evening. He would address this behavior later, in private.

XOXOXOXO

The return drive to Hotch's apartment was quiet for the most part. While they walked as quickly as possible to his car, Hotch had asked his youngest agent if he wanted to explain his behavior during dinner. Reid's only answer had been a terse, "You're being unreasonable." When Hotch asked him what he meant by that, he received only pouty silence and an increase in walking speed in return. Now Reid sat in Hotch's car trying to warm up from his frigid walk.

The ultra-light jacket had indeed been a mistake. The mercury was dipping just below freezing, and Hotch was showing him no mercy regarding his clothing choice. The young man swore Hotch had parked as far away as he possibly could, and now though the heater was on, Hotch wouldn't turn it up all the way like he wanted. What he refused to acknowledge was that the short drive to Hotch's apartment didn't allow the car to warm up enough to make turning up the heater worthwhile. This simply gave him an excuse to wallow deeper in his anger.

Pulling into the parking garage beneath his building, Hotch cut the engine. Reid was out of his seatbelt and opening the door in a flash. Hotch managed to stop him by merely uttering his name, "Spencer." The young man knew he was in trouble again, but he'd hoped Hotch would wait until they made it inside his apartment first. He gulped, bit his lower lip and settled himself back in his seat.

Hotch waited for eye contact before beginning, "Your behavior tonight was atrocious." The young man swallowed hard. Hotch was far angrier than he had let on at dinner, "If you want Morgan and me to treat you as an adult, you need to start acting like one again. I have given you several opportunities to either change your conduct or to talk to me about what is going on with you, but you've chosen instead to sulk. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I won't put up with it. Let's go."

He exited the car and waited for his willful young agent to follow suit. Once he locked up the car, he crossed over to Reid and, taking his elbow, guided him to the elevator.

Reid meekly allowed Hotch to steer him to the apartment. He was truly sorry he hadn't acted more maturely, and could hardly believe he had gotten himself in trouble for the third time in one day. Briefly, he wondered how he'd managed this, but he was too frightened of his impending 'discussion' with Hotch to think much about it.

Entering the apartment, Hotch closed and locked the front door as Reid removed his jacket though he was still shivering from the cold. Hotch took the jacket ordering, "Corner. Now."

Dropping his eyes and nodding his head, the younger man headed toward the dining room. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to sit or not, but decided to try since he may not be sitting well for a while after tonight. Placing one of the dining room chairs to face the corner, he sighed and sat down, wincing as his butt hit the hard wood. He'd almost managed to forget how much the spanking Morgan administered earlier had hurt. Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate.

Reid tensed as Hotch approached him. He was relieved when the older man dropped a heavy sweatshirt in his lap, "You're freezing. Put this on." Obediently, he pulled it over his head and settled back into watching the empty corner. He heard Hotch take a seat at the far end of the table behind him. He felt the older man's eyes on his back, and then heard him turn the pages of one of the books still sitting on the table.

Ten minutes later Reid snuck yet another peek at his watch. With difficulty, he stopped himself from letting out a frustrated sigh. He was bored, and as much as he didn't want to be punished, if it was going to happen he wanted to get it over with.

Another five minutes passed and he was beginning to squirm. "Sit still." Hotch ordered from behind him. Reid let out a small sigh – not quite loud enough to get him in more trouble – and tried to focus his mind on something. Anything.

Twenty minutes after placing Reid at his post, Hotch stood and went to the kitchen. Opening a drawer, he removed a heavy wooden spoon. He then moved in beside Reid and placed a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder. Turning his head toward Hotch, his eyes went wide when he saw what was in his hand. Soft, pleading eyes turned up to the older man. Hotch quickly collected himself for the task ahead, "Let's take care of this, young man."

Reid involuntarily gulped, but dutifully stood and followed the older man to the living room. He was almost relieved to be getting this over with – almost.

When Hotch stopped in front of the sofa and turned to face him, Reid wrapped his arms around himself protectively. "Do you know why I'm punishing you?" The older man gravely asked.

His mouth suddenly dry, the younger man dropped his eyes to the floor and tried to swallow. He nodded, but said nothing.

"Tell me." Hotch ordered.

Reid wasn't surprised by the directive. Shamefacedly, he answered, "Because I was being a brat."

Hotch had to stop himself from chuckling at the expressive word. As childlike as it was, 'brat' was the perfect descriptor. "Indeed, you were. Slacks off, please." Pushing the sleeves of his sweater up, he took a seat in the middle of the sofa and laid the spoon beside his left leg.

The young man's hands began to shake as he attempted to comply. After fumbling for several seconds, he finally managed to remove his slacks. Not bothering to fold them, he hastily draped them over the arm of the chair. Impulsively, he grabbed the throw pillow that adorned the chair and hugged it to his chest for comfort.

Hotch waited patiently, giving Reid the time he needed to prepare.

Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, Reid approached the older man, knelt beside him on the couch, and laid himself in place over Hotch's lap. He continued to hold the pillow, and once he was as comfortable as could reasonably be expected, he buried his burning face in it.

Without clemency, Hotch jerked the underwear down to the boy's knees. Securing the young man in place with his right hand, he raised his left and smacked down hard. Reid popped up on his elbows and took in a sharp breath. Willing himself to accept his punishment without complaint, he gripped the pillow hard and pressed his entire face into it.

Hotch watched his young agent work through his situation without dropping another swat on him. Now that he seemed prepared, Hotch showered Reid's butt with hard, fast smacks.

The young man's hips began to rock trying to escape the blows. When that failed to work, he renewed his efforts to be still by tightly crossing his ankles. His breathing was labored, and it wasn't long before he was no longer able to hold back the small cries.

Once his target was a dark shade of pink, Hotch stopped, allowing Reid to calm his breathing a bit. Taking hold of the wooden spoon, he again took his aim and began his lecture, "I am getting tired of your juvenile outbursts, young man." He let the spoon hit its mark several times before continuing. Reid cried out in shock at the new sensation, but as Hotch maintained a steady stream of swats, the young doctor began crying in earnest. "I expect you to conduct yourself in a mature fashion. If you're upset about something, you need to talk to me about it." The sobs emanating from his willful agent nearly broke Hotch's heart, but he persisted. "Temper tantrums and pouting are self-indulgent and I will not tolerate them." Reid gradually became still and stiff under Hotch's hand. He was concerned for the young man, so he finished with, "If you disagree with one of my rules, we can discuss it, but I do expect you to do as you're told without these childish displays. Am I understood?"

Reid didn't respond at all. Hotch realized the boy wasn't breathing. He reached over and yanked the pillow out of Reid's grasp and away from his face. Rubbing reassuring, gentle circles in his back, he soothed, "Calm down, Spencer. Breathe."

Obediently, the young man gasped, filling his lungs as well as he could. An alarming deep cough exploded from his chest, and then he fell back into profound sobs. Hotch continued trying to calm him, afraid he might stop breathing again. "You're going to be okay. Breathe Spencer." Each time Hotch told him to breathe, he did. It was starting to work; the sobs were quieting to a soft cry. Occasionally, another cough would burst from the young man's lungs.

Though he maintained the soothing contact, Hotch didn't try to stop Reid from crying. He cried steadily for several minutes until he was reduced to quiet sniffles and shaky breaths. Hotch carefully slid Reid's underwear up over the young man's abraded skin.

Taking another shaky breath, Reid propped himself up on his elbows and respectfully requested, "May I get up?"

Remembering Reid's strong reaction to losing physical contact after this morning's punishment, he responded, "In a minute. I want to discuss a few things with you first."

The young man was surprised by Hotch's decision to keep him in this position, but he found the connection comforting, so he didn't argue.

Hotch didn't waste any time getting to the point, "Do you really believe Morgan and I don't think of you as an adult?"

The young agent was ashamed he had ever said that; he knew it wasn't true. They always treated him as an adult, except when he didn't act like one. He quietly admitted, "No, sir. I was just . . . embarrassed, I guess."

"Embarrassed? About what?"

"Everyone else was drinking," Reid nearly whined, "I didn't want to look like a baby drinking soda."

Understanding, Hotch silently nodded his head, "I wasn't drinking either. I meant what I said about needing to focus tonight."

"I know. I'm sorry." The young man sniffled, "but you said I couldn't drink any more after tonight too."

"Spencer." Hotch warned, "You know better than that. What did I really say?"

Guiltily clearing his throat, the young man parroted back, "I think it would be a good idea for you to avoid alcohol for a while."

Hotch let that sink in for a second before beginning, "Listen to me. You are fighting a drug addiction right now. You need to stay sober. Using alcohol to avoid or numb your emotions will impede your progress. I need you better. The team needs you better. That is not going to happen if you don't face what is bothering you. I don't expect you to stop having the occasional drink for the rest of your life, only for a month or two. Perhaps a bit longer if necessary. I'm here to support you in this fight, but you need to do the hard work. Do you understand?"

Reid's upper body had sunk back down onto the sofa as he listened. He turned his head so he could see Hotch out of the corner of his eye. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he admitted to himself the truth in the older man's words. He had lived his entire life avoiding his emotions. He was good at it. Sniffling again, he whispered, "Yes, sir."

Satisfied with their progress tonight, Hotch patted the young man on the shoulder indicating he could sit up.

Reid slowly rose and settled himself on the sofa beside the older man. He folded his hands between his knees to keep from playing with them, and kept his eyes on the floor. To Hotch he looked like a lost, frightened child. He slipped his arm around the young man and pulled him in close. Reid leaned into Hotch and dropped his head onto the older man's chest. He let the tears flow freely again until he was overcome by a coughing fit.

Hotch didn't like the sound of that cough. The kid was only just starting to get over a cold. He didn't need to be getting sick again. Using his free hand, he felt for any sign of a fever. Reid was a bit warm, but that could be a result of his high emotional state. Hotch looked at the clock. It was 10:30 already. He gave up on the idea of working on the recovery plan tonight. Instead, he said, "Go get ready for bed. I'll be in soon with something for that cough."

Reid slowly sat up, wiping away the tears and clearing his throat, he said, "It's nothing. I'm fine."

As the young man stood Hotch countered with, "Nevertheless, I want you to take something. If nothing else, it will help you sleep."

Noting the unmovable set of Hotch's jaw, Reid merely nodded his head and went to his room.

XOXOXOXO

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