Criminal Minds

*This was inspired the web fiction Shadow of the Templar. Read it, it's good. I don't own anything. *

*This takes place in between seasons 9 and 10, after Blake leaves but before Callahan arrives*

*OC/OOC/AU/Slash (but nothing graphic)/Slight Crackfic/Harsh Language*

Hotch's call came on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The team wandered into the BAU bullpen one by one, it wasn't until two hours later that the last straggler, Agent Rossi, wandered into the office. He wasn't surprised to find the rest of his team bemoaning their lost Saturdays good-naturedly, describing their dropped plans.

"I was at the zoo with Henry and Will," JJ said, "And we were about to go into the reptile room when my cell went off. Will and Henry are still there now."

"Yeah? Well at least your people are waiting for you. You should have seen the glare my date gave me when I told her I had to skip out. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under." Morgan chuckled wryly. "What about you, Kid? You have to bail on a hot date?" He directed his question at Reid.

"Actually, I was at the Smithsonian. Did you know that they have Indiana Jones's hat and whip from the movies? I got to take a peek before I was called in." Reid replied animatedly.

"Kid, I'm surprised you've seen the Indiana Jones movies." Morgan grinned.

Reid scowled. "I'm not that oblivious to pop culture. Besides, Indiana Jones is a classic!"

"On that, Reid, I'd have to agree with you." Rossi cut in.

"Rossi, you're here! Great, Hotch said we could start the debriefing as soon as you got here." JJ led them to the briefing room, where Penelope Garcia and Aaron Hotchner were passing out Ipads and, for Spencer Reid, a paper file. Garcia pulled up pictures of several dead watchmen and security guards on the screen, as well as one of a woman in a nice suit who appeared to have been carrying a stack on documents that had since fallen across the floor.

"This time we've been asked to help with a particularly strange case. What started as a classic case of serial art theft has turned into a string of murders. Each time, something was stolen, but since a few months back, a night watchman, or in one case an unlucky curator, has been found dead at the scene. It was originally assumed that the guard got in the way of the Unsub's escape, but in the past month the perpetrator has gone out of his way to kill, even risking discovery by staying to find a victim. We believe that the Unsub may have inadvertently become addicted to the kill, and has made it a permanent part of his MO. We have been called in to profile and help catch this art thief turned serial killer. Reid, we will need you to make a geographical profile to figure out where he will strike next, so bring any supplies you'll need on the jet. Wheels up in 30."

Agent Hotchner dismissed the team to grab their go-bags. As his agents spilled out the door, his brow furrowed. He felt like he was forgetting something…

As the plane started its descent, a light bulb lit in Hotch's mind, and he cleared his throat to draw the attention of the rest of the team. They had just finished going over the case and making preliminary judgements, so they had yet to disperse to gather their belongings.

"I almost forgot to mention, we will be working alongside the Art Theft division on this case. I expect you all to be on your best behaviour. We don't want this to end like the case with the white collar crimes unit." Hotch glared at Morgan to drive in his point.

"Okay, Hotch, but that was so not my fault. He was asking for it." Morgan protested.

"He was asking to be covered in foam and locked out on the roof?" Rossi smirked, raising his eyebrow at Morgan.

"…Yes!" Morgan gave Rossi a dirty look.

"Enough! I don't care whose fault it was, it will not happen again. If I hear one complaint against any of you…" Hotch trailed off menacingly. The team was so distracted by this heated exchange that they failed to notice their youngest member grow pale at the mention of the Art Theft division. Slowly, a grin slithered across his face, his brooding eyes gaining a mischievous twinkle. He drew his tongue over his left incisor as the cogs in his brain started to turn at an ever-increasing rate. This, he thought, could be very, very fun.

The BAU pulled up to the local police station in black government-issue SUVs. They strode toward the building where Art Theft would hopefully be waiting for them. Hotch kept a wary eye on Morgan, poised to intercept any signs of oncoming shenanigans, but the younger agent seemed to be behaving himself. Agent Hotchner sighed. Hopefully it would last until this case was over. He entered the station, catching the eye of the head of the Art Theft team. He strolled over, his team trailing behind him.

The man in charge of Art Theft was a serious looking man in his late thirties, his mouth turned up into what could have been a smile or a grimace. He had short, sandy hair and slate colored eyes. He was also tall and surprisingly muscular, for someone in Art Theft. Hotch grimaced internally at his own prejudice. They were all FBI agents, they all had to pass the same qualifications.

"Hi, I'm Nathan Carver, I'm in charge of the Art Theft division. This is my team, Agent Ben Kurogawa, Agent Alanna Riley, and Agent Thomas Richards." He gestured to the three people standing behind him, the first a tall, fit Asian man with short-shorn hair and an affable expression, the second a shorter, attractive woman with ginger hair and freckles bearing a sardonic smile, the third an older man with mocha skin, wild black hair and deep laugh lines.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner, this is Agent David Rossi, Agent Derek Morgan, Agent Jennifer Jareau, and Agent Spencer Reid." As his team filed into view, every jaw in the Art Division dropped.

"YOU!" Agent Carver bellowed in outrage, sporting an honestly terrifying expression on his previously friendly face. All the other agents in Art Theft had expressions ranging from shock to anger as they stared at the object of their enmity. Hotch turned to find that that person was none other than a grinning Spencer Reid.

"Me!" He replied, giving them a little wave. He looked positively ecstatic at their furious expressions, soaking in their loathing like a warm bath.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Carver exploded, looking offended by Spencer's very existence.

"I'm assisting an investigation. There's a homicidal art thief on the loose, you know." Spencer offered this last fact with a sort of infuriatingly condescending joviality.

"You're a homicidal art thief!" Agent Carver retorted, in what was admittedly not one of his most creative moments.

"Don't be ridiculous," Spencer looked offended, "I've never murdered anyone in my life! I am an FBI agent. Besides, it isn't nice to call people names."

"You are an art thief!"

"Am not."

"You are, too!"

"Am not."

"Are, too!"

"Am not."

"Are- No! No, I refuse to participate in your childish antics!" Carver blustered.

"Bit late for that, don't you think?" Reid furrowed his brow but kept smiling.

" We KNOW that you are a goddamned art thief!" Carver pointed his finger accusingly.

"But you have no proof." Reid raised his eyebrows. Carver looked dumbfounded.

"What?" His eye twitched.

"I said, you can't prove it." Reid looked smug. Carver's mouth twisted in fury, but then his whole face sagged and he just looked defeated.

" But we can't prove it." He groaned.

"Yup. So why don't we all just play nice and solve this case like good little FBI agents?" Reid said with false sympathy. " Now, why don't you go check out the latest crime scene and you can come back when you are feeling a little more professional."

Carver glowered at him, but stormed out of the station, his team trudging after him, each sending Reid a veritable death glare as they passed.

"Okay, I'll bite. What the hell was that?" Morgan turned on Reid, looking confused.

"Me and Art Theft have a thing." Reid said simply.

"A thing?" Rossi raised an eyebrow.

"They claim I've stolen billions of dollars worth of artwork, I claim I haven't, and they refuse to just agree to disagree. I'd call that a thing." Reid shrugged.

"What. What even… Why do they…Huh?" JJ exclaimed, trailing off as she tried to wrap her mind around this new information.

"Don't worry, I won't let this get in the way of the investigation. I'm going to go work the geographical profile now. " Reid directed his last comment at Hotch as he traipsed toward the conference room that had been set up for them.

Hotch made the executive decision to hold off on asking Reid about the whole thing until he had found out just what the Art Theft people were talking about. This meant a lot of barely concealed glances toward the conference room while the team sat around talking over the profile. Eventually the Art Theft unit returned from the latest crime scene, glowering but not actively cursing at them. Hotch moved to intercept them before they reached the rest of his team.

"Agent Carver, I'd like to know exactly what is going on between you and my agent. I need to know what it is you think he has done, why you think it was him, and whether or not this will get in the way of this investigation." Hotch rattled off, trying to look stern but unable to hide his befuddlement.

Carver's brow fell into an even darker glower, but he sighed and motioned for Hotch to step outside with him.

"A while back, there were a string of high profile heists of Las Vegas casinos. They were goddamned perfect, not a scrap of evidence, everyone got away clean, they never found the money. After about five of these, they managed to track down one of the low level thugs based on a conveniently placed ATM camera that was supposed to be out of order but was fixed a day early. He didn't say much, but they found out that the mastermind behind the heists was a person they called "the kid." He insisted that the kid would get him out of custody within the week. No one believed him. Two days later, he just disappeared. Just vanished, never seen again. The heists stopped and the case was dropped.

A few months later, a similar heist occurred at a museum in the area. Same MO, different target. The kid dropped off the grid until another museum was stolen from in Los Angeles, California. This happened again and again up and down the west coast, from San Diego to San Francisco. At every scene, a note was dropped in the lobby of the museum, signed "The Kid." Then it all just stopped, again.

Fast forward a few months and move to the east coast, where there were hits in New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Richmond, you name it. At this point it had become a federal investigation, and people were getting pissed. The kid had branched out to stealing from private homes, including those of some very important public figures. We started getting reports from Interpol of similar but isolated incidents in England, France, and Italy."

Carver stopped to catch his breath. Agent Hotchner looked at him with a mix of shock and disbelief. Agent Carver scowled and prepared to continue.

"We were eventually able to connect the majority of the crimes to one person. He had bought plane tickets to the right places at the right times, he was listed as a witness for several of the heists and caught on camera visiting the scenes at several others in the days leading up to the crime. That person was Spencer Reid. So we had a suspect, but no evidence. Just a lot of coincidences. We brought him in for questioning, but he was a total blank slate. We couldn't get a thing off him. So we looked further into his background, and found that we were looking at a genius psychologist FBI agent who probably knew more about us than we did about him. We had nothing, and he knew it. It was frustrating to say the least. So we put the case on backburner, waiting for him to slip up."

Hotch looked incredulous. He didn't believe in coincidence as a rule, but this was Spencer Reid they were talking about. The naïve, clumsy, lovable genius of the BAU. Finally, he sighed. He could look into this further once the case at hand had been dealt with.

"Do you think this is going to affect your team's ability to focus on the case? We can leave, if it comes to that." Hotch offered wearily. Carver considered the offer, turning it over in his head.

"No, much as I hate to admit it, we need you on this one. It was mostly the surprise that made us act out of turn. We'll behave if he does." Carver said with conviction. Hotch nodded and motioned to the door. It was time to deliver the profile.

Everyone filed into the conference room, a strange sort of uncomfortable silence permeating the air. Agent Hotchner cleared his throat and motioned for Morgan to start explaining the profile. Morgan shot him a quick look but turned toward Art Theft.

"So this guy is something of a perfectionist, he isn't OCD but he likes everything to go according to plan and he plans a lot. However, if everything doesn't go according to his plans, he tends to panic. He becomes unpredictable and may do things he hasn't done before." Morgan's eyes flashed towards JJ, who picked up the explanation.

"We believe that the first kill was an example of this. It was sloppy, and at an angle. Based on the position of the body, we believe they ran into each other rounding a corner. However, after that first adrenaline rush, the Unsub became addicted to the kill and has since made a point of going out of his way to kill, even prioritizing it over the theft itself." JJ nudged Rossi, who had been covertly observing Reid out of the corner of his eye.

"At this point he is an adrenaline junkie. His kills are escalating, and he may infiltrate the next museum earlier to maximize the chance of running into potential victims. While his heists are organized, his kills are disorganized. We have plenty of ballistic evidence that our technical analyst is running through the databases now. " Rossi passed the proverbial torch to Hotch.

"Based on the angle of the bullets and the physical feats these thefts his thefts required, we believe he is between 5'8'' and 6'4'' and is between 25 and 30 years of age. He is extremely physically fit and likely has some sort of firearms training. He tends to go after high profile items rather than particularly valuable ones, telling us that he cares more about his reputation than money. Reid will now give a geographical profile." Hotch stepped out of the way as Reid pulled a map out on the table. It was covered in multi-colored markings and notes.

"Based on Garcia's list of exhibits matching his standards and his previous crimes, I was able to narrow his potential targets down to three locations. One is highly unlikely, due to a recent overhaul in security, but the other two are nearly identical. One has a higher priced item on display, but the other provides more opportunity for killing, and due to his highly unprofessional habits, I can't tell which one he'll go for. Based on his timeline and his rapid devolution I think the theft will occur in the next week or so." Reid finished the profile, his face carefully blank.

"Highly unprofessional huh?" Carver remarked sardonically, prompting a glare from Hotch.

"Alright, let's split into two teams, we'll visit both museums and figure out how best to prepare them. Hopefully we catch this guy in the act. Dismissed." Hotch said with an air of finality.

The ride was tense, to say the least. They had split up, agents Morgan, Rossi, Riley and Richards going in one car, and agents Hotchner, Carver, Jareau, Kurogawa and Reid going in the other. Carver insisted that he could not in good conscience allow Spencer Reid to poke around a museum without his personal supervision. Hotch figured he could not in good conscience allow Carver to be alone with Spencer Reid while looking so murderous. The mood in their SUV was less than genial. After fifteen very awkward minutes, JJ opted to break the silence.

"So Spence… Henry was asking me at the zoo, how big do lions get, exactly?" JJ attempted to break the ice with something she knew Spencer couldn't resist - random trivia.

"Well, adult male lions can exceed 250 kg, or 550 lbs in weight. They are the second largest living cat, after the tiger. They can live up to 15 years in the wild and 20 years in captivity…" He trailed off as JJ's eyes began to glaze over. JJ registered his sudden silence, and attempted to keep the conversation moving.

"Really? That's pretty big. Say, you said you saw Indiana Jones' hat and whip and stuff at the Smithsonian, right? Do they look like they do in the movies?" Upon hearing JJ's question Carver let out a short yelp of surprise. Kurogawa turned to look at Reid with wide eyes.

"And here I was under the impression that those items weren't available for viewing by the public this month due to maintenance." Carver remarked sarcastically, glaring daggers at Reid in the backseat.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Reid said with a look of perfect innocence. "They were very impressive. Unfortunately, I was called in for the case before I could examine them at length."

"Thank God for small favors." Kurogawa muttered. JJ eyed him in surprise. Those were the first words any of them had heard from him all day. She sighed, and wondered if things were any better in the other car…

At that moment, Morgan was eyeing Agent Riley curiously. Rossi couldn't tell if he wanted to hit on her, or ask her about Reid. She was very attractive, so it could've been the former, but he rather suspected it was the latter. Though Morgan's ladies man instincts were great, his protective instincts for their youngest member were greater. Though he'd never admit it out loud. Unfortunately, neither of the agents from Art Theft had said a thing since they'd been introduced. Based on the quick, inquisitive glances Riley was shooting him and Morgan, that was about to change.

"So what's it like working with him?" She blurted out suddenly, blushing furiously behind her smattering of freckles.

"With who?" Morgan asked, playing dumb.

"With the Kid. You know, Reid." She said, obviously exasperated by his stalling. "What's he like? I only know him from his work. What's he like, yanno, personally?"

"Well, I'm not entirely convinced that Reid is who you think he is, but if I had to describe him… He's a genius. His mind works in ways we can't even aspire to. He's also really naïve at times, so much so that I sometimes wonder if he's just messing with me. He is a bit childish, but that's just cuz he didn't have much of a childhood. Overall, he's a good guy, and a valuable member of the team. I just don't get why your boss has such a hate-on for him." Morgan ended his speech with a pointed question, hoping to get an explanation.

"Hmph. Well, he may seem all innocent, but he is a sneaky bastard and no mistake." Riley glanced around furvitively. "There is a story behind Carver's attitude toward yer mate, but I'm not sure it's mine to tell. Hey, Richards, you feeling like a snitch today?" Riley directed her question at the older agent riding shotgun. The corners of his mouth twitched as he broke his silence.

"No skin off my back. But if the boss finds out about this I didn't hear anything, I didn't see anything, I wasn't involved." He averted his eyes in apparent apathy, though Rossi thought he saw a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Cross my heart, not a peep." Riley gave him a vulpine grin. Richards snorted but didn't say a word.

"So," Riley began, in what was obviously a practiced fashion, "It all started when the boss man first joined Art Theft. One of his first cases. They'd gotten wind of the kid's next target, best lead they'd had on him in years and security was pretty tight. Carver was guarding an entrance, looking to stop the kid before he got in the building. Now, you have to understand that this was back when the kid was just starting to lose the hired help and fly solo, but this time he didn't. He had a partner. So Carver is guarding the door and all of the sudden this guy comes up to him, no more'n eighteen, and starts flirting with him. Now Carver catches on real quick that this guy isn't quite right, but he figures, so long as he's talking to me, he isn't inside stealing stuff, right? So he plays along, when suddenly the kid just kisses him! Smack on the lips, and all the while his partner is making his exit right behind them! So the kid thanks him for the kiss and goes on his merry way, leaving Carver befuddled and in a heap of trouble because the thief got out his door."

Riley was practically cackling at this point, and no one in the car had a straight face. Sniggering, Morgan said, "Well now I know it couldn't have been our pretty boy. He wouldn't know flirting if it hit him with a ten foot pole. He blushes at the mere mention of a kiss."

"Yeah? Well we've got it on camera as says it was him. Maybe you don't know your, uh, pretty boy so well as you think you do." Riley retorted.

" Yeah, Reid isn't into guys. If I didn't know better I'd think he was asexual." Morgan countered.

"Well you said he hasn't shown much interest in women right? Maybe he's even more subtle around men." Riley said, pouting. Morgan scowled. There was no way Reid was hiding any secret homosexual passions. Right?

"Either way, that doesn't prove he's some sort of phantom thief." Rossi chimed in from the driver's seat. "Though I wouldn't mind seeing that photographic evidence you mentioned. Garcia's birthday is coming up, after all." He said mischievously.

Hotch pulled into the parking lot of the museum and strode toward the doors without checking to see if the others would follow. As they walked through the lobby, he angled his head to make eye contact with JJ,

"JJ, why don't you find whoever is in charge and alert them to the possible threat, see if you can talk to whoever is in charge of security and find out what measures they already have in place. The rest of us can split up and look around the museum, see what we can find." JJ nodded and trotted off toward a hallway of offices.

"Alright, Reid, come with me, we'll take the west wing-" Hotch was cut off by Carver.

"No way. He is not going to poke around god knows where without me or one of my agents keeping an eye on him." Carver crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze.

"Agent Carver, I appreciate your concern, but I can't have you harassing my agent and distracting him, or yourself, from this investigation!" Hotch started calmly, but his frustration began to bleed through. He had had enough of this nonsense.

"Hotch, it's fine, how about I go with Agent Kurogawa?" Spencer offered accommodatingly. Kurogawa nodded at this, sensing that putting either of the other agents with Reid would be like lighting a cigarette in a room full of C-4. Hotch hesitated, but figured it was better than any alternative. He nodded his assent and turned heel for the west wing, Carver putting on speed to catch up. Spencer turned to Kurogawa.

"Guess we've got the east wing then?" He smiled and started strolling toward the first exhibit, eyeing the displays contemplatively. Kurogawa sighed internally. He didn't know what to make of this man, who had just been a face on paper before, a distant enemy, but who was now… what? A colleague? A seemingly normal guy? A brilliant criminal with an excellent disguise? It didn't really matter, he decided, as he had to keep a close eye on him either way.

Almost an hour later Hotch, Carver, JJ and Kurogawa converged in the foyer, with nothing to show for their efforts. Kurogawa held a particularly guilty expression.

"Ben? Where is the kid?" Carver asked in a menacing tone. Kurogawa gulped.

"Erm, well, I seem to have, um, lost him. One minute we were talking about 17th century sculpture, the next… he just vanished. I looked for him, but I couldn't find him. He's just… gone." Ben Kurogawa looked at his boss and thought, this is it. This is how I die.

"So you failed to do the one thing I specifically asked you to do. You couldn't keep track of him for an hour while confined to one wing! No wonder we can't catch in the act if we can't even do that-" Carver was cut off by the sound of Hotch's cell going off.

"Hotchner." He braked into his phone, irritation leaking into his voice.

"Hey Hotch, I think I found something, come to the diorama display of 16th century furniture in the east wing." Reid rattled off before hanging up abruptly. Hotch stared at his phone a bit before realizing that everyone was looking at him questioningly.

"That was Reid. He found something." Hotch explained, making for the east wing. He didn't see Carver and Kurogawa exchange a look that said, ask the head of security if any items in the east wing are missing before we leave.

They walked up to a dishevelled and dust-covered Reid, looking triumphant as he held up a ratty green backpack. Carver glowered at him and prepared to supply a scathing remark regarding Reid's apparent talent at slipping away from the authorities, only to be interrupted.

"So I was poking around some of the exhibits, checking their security measures and such, seeing what was bolted down, when I stumbled across a hidden closet behind several of the diorama exhibits. They are used to store spare items and props, but for the most part it looked like no one has been in any them for ages. I say for the most part because in this one," Reid gestured at a concealed door behind him, "I found a bag of supplies, enough food and water for several days, and various supplies that would come in handy during a robbery."

Reid paused to smirk at the two Art Theft agents.

"Now, if it were me, knowing that every cop in the area is on the lookout, I'd hide myself away in this cubby hole during the day, steal what I came for after nightfall, then hide out for a few more days until everything had died down. No one would be able to figure out how I'd come or gone, and I'd likely get away with it. Sort of like that theft in the Met in '09."

At that, Carver could hold himself back no longer. He lunged forward and tackled Reid to the ground, cuffing Reid's hands behind his back and straddling him, preventing him from getting up.

"Carver! Get off my agent!" Hotch bellowed, obviously pissed. He locked eyes with Carver, neither giving way, until Spencer chimed in.

"Why, Nathan, I never knew you were into this sort of thing! If you to get on top of me, you could have just asked." He gave his most innocent smile, chuckling a bit under his breath. Carver blushed ferociously, leaping off Reid and attempting to compose himself.

"Carver! I don't care what sort of history you have with Reid, if you continue to act inappropriately I will report you for harassment. Have I made myself clear?" Hotch ranted at Agent Carver, who had the grace to look mildly abashed.

"Okaaayyy, so, how about we go tell everyone that the thief is hitting this place for sure?" JJ, ever the diplomat, attempted to change the subject. Carver strode toward the lobby, obviously still upset, with Hotch and JJ following him, not sure whether he would lash out at some unsuspecting local. Kurogawa stayed to help Reid out of the handcuffs, only to find that he had gotten them off himself – without the key. Nevertheless, Reid smiled at him gratefully, then raised one eyebrow, cocked his head toward Carver, and said,

"He wants me."

Kurogawa snorted despite himself and started toward the lobby, Reid strolling along beside him.

Soon, the entire group had reconvened to help the museum vamp up their security measures and set a trap for their cat burglar turned murderer. Everyone had their eyes on Agent Carver, who was mercifully avoiding Spencer Reid. Reid did not make this easy for him, as he helped prepare for the upcoming sting by pointing out several routes of entry that on could argue only a seasoned thief would know about. However, Carver managed to refrain from jumping him, thanks to the vigilant and frankly terrifying presence of Agent Hotchner.

As twilight fell upon the museum, Agents Reid, Rossi, Riley, JJ and Kurogawa settled into a stake out van, manning the surveillance equipment while the others posed as normal night watchmen inside. Based on the profile, they guessed it would be a long time before their Unsub showed up, maybe even a couple nights, so they had a lot of time to kill.

"So, anyone up for a game of poker? Blackjack, maybe?" Spencer inquired hopefully. Rossi snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

"I learnt a long time ago not to play cards with you, Reid, especially not those that involve gambling." Reid looked wounded, but his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"And yet you guys find the idea he might be a thief ridiculous?" Kurogawa raised an eyebrow.

"This and that are different things." Rossi insisted, his eyes glinting. "Though I do understand why Carver is so bent on insisting Reid is the Kid. He just doesn't want to admit he was sleeping on the job, well, not quite sleeping, but it was headed in that direction…" Rossi waggled his eyebrows in Reid's direction, turning the young agent's cheeks a cherry-blossom pink. Riley immediately looked guilty and she glanced slantwise at the dark haired Art Theft agent who had narrowed his eyes at her.

"Riley, did you tell him? You know Carter is going to be absolutely livid when he finds out, right? He might actually kill you this time." Kurogawa chastised Riley.

"Wait, told Rossi what? What's Carter going to kill her for? I feel like I'm missing something." JJ said, looking to Rossi for explanation.

"Turns out Carver and Reid have history." Rossi smirked.

"What, like a thing? Reid and Mr. You-Are-So-An-International-Art-Thief were a thing?" JJ started to giggle.

"They were not a thing!" Kurogawa insisted, right as Reid chimed in, "It was just one kiss…"

Everyone looked at Reid. He tried to look as innocent as possible, but the corners of his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

"Soooooo- What's really going on there?" Riley inquired, her nose quivering with excitement, " I mean, yes, you know way too much about the Kid's crimes and act way suspicious, but the boss-man does seem strangely obsessed with proving it was all you, and what with that one time, well, folks do talk, not naming any names or nothing…"

"Well, if you were accused of being some famous art thief, wouldn't you look into who you were accused of being? I've been following your investigation, trying to clear my name. And I do see you all fairly often, seeing as you insist on dragging me in for questioning every few months. Sometimes it just seems like he's just making excuses to see me, honestly…" Reid trailed off suggestively, pursing his lips. Riley and JJ squealed in unison.

"Oh I knew it! Everyone could see the unresolved sexual tension there! Wait 'til Richards hears about this."

"I knew you were into guys, Spence, and when he straddled you on the floor? Anyone with eyes would realize he is into you!"

Kurogawa's hand flew up, silencing the girls. "This is ridiculous! You can't honestly believe –" He was interrupted by a beep on one of the monitors. Spencer swivelled to peer at the screen.

"Hm, looks like amateur hour has arrived. Our Unsub has arrived. I suggest we all prepare to move." Reid strapped on his vest and checked his gun. Everyone hurried to do the same, all of them thinking that they would continue this discussion later.

Twelve hours later the BAU team was on a plane back home, their Unsub safe behind bars. They had left the slightly steaming Art Theft team back at the police station. Now that they were away from the angry ramblings of one Nathan Carver, Hotch felt that it was time to ask Reid what was really going on.

"So." Hotch sat down across from Reid. "Would you like the chance to explain your side of the story?" Reid let out a slow breath.

"Of course. First of all, I'd like to apologize for my behaviour. I've been a bit of an ass, and all I can say for myself is that Carver and his team bring out the worst in me."

"That's for sure." Morgan scoffed. Reid's expression was a mix of a death glare and a deep, scarlet blush.

"Anyway, the whole thing started with just a huge misunderstanding. As you know, I like to go to museums for fun. Originally, the Kid worked around the area that I lived and went to school. Due to my frequent visits to the local museums, I was in the museums on or near the days that they were stolen from. And that wasn't a big deal, except this one time in college one of my few friends decided that I was terrible at flirting, so he dared me to go up to the first cute guy I saw and kiss him-"

"Wait, wait, wait, you did that on a dare?" Morgan asked incredulously. "I mean, I can get you being into guys in college, that's normal, but you just went up and kissed a guy on a dare?!"

"Hey, dares are serious things. Anyway, I figured I ought to not just go up and assault him, so I started talking to him. We seemed to be getting on fine, I mean, he didn't tell me to go away or anything, so I kissed him. And it was great, and it would've been fine, except a few months later I got called in for questioning for dozens of cases of robbery." Reid lamented.

"Oh, it was great, huh?" JJ raised her eyebrows and bit her lip.

"Shhh, JJ, I'm trying to explain why I'm not an international criminal mastermind. So anyway, I eventually convinced them that I was not there that day to steal anything, but after that… I'll admit I got curious. I mean, if someone accused you of being some amazing art thief, you'd want to know who it was you were accused of being. So I did some light research…" Everyone groaned. They knew what "light research" entailed.

"So by the time they came back almost half a year later, I knew…perhaps a bit more than I should have about the Kid's activities. In hindsight, it seemed a bit suspicious. Once again, I convinced them that it wasn't me, but at this point I was determined to prove my innocence. So I studied geographic profiling, famous art, theft techniques, and various other disciplines I thought might come in handy. I started trying to get ahead of him, catch him in the act, but every time I showed up at one of the targets, the Art Theft guys would be there, and they'd come bother me, and we'd both miss him. I never caught him, but neither have they, and until they do, they'll keep coming after me every four or five months." Reid sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"So, it wasn't exactly a coincidence that you were at the scene of the crime so many times?" Rossi chuckled.

"Not as such, no. So, anyway, after a while, I just gave up. I had more pressing things to worry about, like the FBI, and my mom, and- well, anyway, I decided I was out, but they didn't exactly get the message, they dropped by more, if anything. I got a little frustrated, and eventually realized that they weren't going to let this go. So, I figured, why keep denying it? It was just a bit of joking around, just teasing them a bit, but now they are very strongly under the impression that I am not only committing crimes right under their noses, but also rubbing it in their faces, and sexually harassing Carver. Needless to say, they hate me with a burning passion."

"So it was all just a long string of misunderstandings and bad decisions?" Hotch relaxed. That seemed a lot more plausible than anything the people in Art Theft were saying. Seriously, this was Spencer Reid they were talking about. The naïve little brother of the BAU. There was no way-

"At least, that's what I'm saying knowing that you are all legally and professionally obligated to report me if I confess to anything." Everyone's heads swivelled to stare at Reid, who wore an impish smile.

Almost two months later, the BAU was just reconvening after a week long vacation and everyone was mingling in the bullpen, talking about their time off.

"-And so Jack scored a goal. So that was my break. I think I spent more time with him this week than in the past three months." Hotch finished his story.

"Oh, that's great! I got to spend a lot of time with Henry, but I also got a sitter for a few nights, so me and Will got some time to ourselves." JJ's cheeks held just a hint of pink.

"Yeah? I went home to spend some time with my mom. She asked about Henry and Jack, I told her they were doing fine." Morgan said.

"So Reid, how was your visit with Emily? Is she doing well? How was France?" JJ asked.

"Oh, it was great! She showed me the sights, and told me about her new job, and we went to the Louvre, I brought everyone souvenirs!" Reid handed out a small gift bag to each of his friends.

"Oh, Reid, you shouldn't have." Rossi smiled.

"It was no trouble. I just thought-" Before Reid could finish his sentence, the doors to the BAU flew open with a bang!

"SPENCER REID!" Agent Nathan Carver burst into the bullpen, seething with rage.

"Oh, no…" Hotch groaned. Just when they had just about forgotten about what had happened. He was not ready to deal with this again.

"Hi, Agent Carver! Fancy seeing you here!" Spencer Reid wore a Cheshire Cat smile.

"YOU stole a priceless national treasure from the Louvre. YOU made the French think it was the British. YOU have five days to return it before there is officially an INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT!" Carver started to look less furious and more distressed.

" Nathan, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I've never stolen anything, particularly not from the French government. However, I can tell that you are extremely worried about this situation, so I could be convinced to use my amazing profiling skills that I picked up trying to prove that I'm not the Kid to track down that national treasure." Reid said with mock sympathy. Carver looked like he wanted to say something, but he just sort of wilted instead.

"Fine." Carver looked crushed, but resigned.

"However, there are two conditions. One, you have to stop calling me in for questioning every couple months. I have a life, you know. I can't be showing up at your doorstep in handcuffs on a regular basis, however much you might like that. Two, you have to go on a date with me. As soon as I deliver the goods- I mean the profile." Reid had an impish grin. Everyone stared at him. They knew Carver brought out the worst in him, but this- this was a bit extreme.

"Wait, what? You can't expect me to- I can't- I won't do it!" Carver's face was a shade of vermillion rarely seen in nature.

"Oh, well. I guess England and France are going to war. And to think, you could've prevented it." Reid pouted at Carver. Carver sputtered, he blushed, he groaned, he gasped, he gave in.

"Alright. Alright. I'll do it. Just… just get the thing back." Carver trudged back towards the door. Reid beamed at his admittedly shapely backside.

" Pick me up at five, mmkay?" He trilled. He turned toward his gaping team. " Now if you'll all excuse me, I have a French national treasure to, ah, locate." He scampered off.

Just three days later, Reid sent Carver the location of the treasure. He never said how he found it. They never asked. Reid came in the next morning looking, for lack of a better word, superfine. He was wearing fitted black slacks, a tight wine red button up and a black pinstriped vest. His black overcoat, gold pocket watch and Italian leather shoes (a gift from Rossi) sealed the deal. His hair was styled somewhere between Brooklyn hipster and just-had-sex. He was openly excited all day, acting jittery and giggly. By the time five 'o clock rolled around, he was practically vibrating in his seat.

Carver announced his arrival with a meek knock on the door, a far cry from his last visit. He was wearing a nice suit and carrying a bouquet of flowers. Peonies, though Spencer was sure Carver didn't know that they meant shame or bashfulness.

"Hello Agent Carver! You look nice tonight. You brought me flowers? That's sweet. So, I have a dinner reservation in an hour, and then we're going dancing!" Reid started to ramble, and Carver just sort of whimpered before sighing and offering his arm to a very excited Spencer Reid.

"You look nice, too. I suppose I'll have to pay for dinner?" Carver asked.

"Oh, yes. But I will pay for drinks, since I am planning to get you completely sloshed at the club tonight." Carver grunted noncommittally. It was just as well, he figured he'd need a lot of alcohol to get through this night. Reid turned toward his friends.

"I'll be coming in late tomorrow!" He quipped with a wink.

"No, you will not! You will come in perfectly on time after a full nights sleep!" Carver blushed. He was getting in the habit of doing that around Reid, and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with that.

Just about six hours later, Reid was helping Nathan Carver up the stairs to Reid's apartment. Carver, as he had predicted, got well and truly snockered. He was in no condition to drive himself home, and Reid didn't know where he lived, at least, he wasn't supposed to, so he decided to take him back to his place.

Carver was stumbling down the hall to Reid's front door, and he was a tad fuzzy on where he was exactly, but he knew he was with that stupid, arrogant, handsome, art-stealing Spencer Reid. God, he hated that guy, what with his stupid, charming, infuriating, sexy… he lost his train of thought. He fell through the door to… a place. A place with a bed somewhere no doubt. He fell down on the couch and took off his jacket. He started to unbutton his shirt, but wait, this wasn't his house. Where was he again? Oh yeah, with that awful…ly attractive Kid. That Kid who was now telling him that he was should really go to bed, and trying to drag him away from the suddenly incredibly comfy couch.

" Carver, if you do not want to go to bed, then we could watch, say, Catch Me If You Can. Or how about National Treasure?" Reid's smirk fell as a very drunk Carver started to growl. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to antagonise him while his inhibitions were completely gone. Reid coaxed him into his bedroom, and was about to go sleep on the couch when Carver grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and pulled him into bed. Normally his balance was a bit better but he had a few drinks as well, and he was pretty tired, and to be honest, Carver looked pretty hot without a shirt. Reid got under the covers, took off his vest and shirt, and prepared himself for a long night of restraining himself.

"Well… I might as well get something fun out of this." Reid pulled down the covers a bit, checked that Nathan was sleeping, and snapped a quick selfie of the two of them in bed together, seemingly naked. This would come in handy later.

Carver woke up with a blinding headache. His eyes fluttered and widened as he realized that he was in bed. With Spencer Reid. Without a shirt on. Oh God. He lifted the covers to make sure he was wearing pants. He was. That was a good sign. Okay, he could do this.

"Did we have sex?!"

"What? What? Oh, Carver. Good morning. Would you look at that, I am late for work this morning. Um… No, we didn't have sex. I wouldn't take advantage of you after you got so drunk. I did have a nice time last night, though. How about I drive you to Quantico? You left your car there last night." Reid soothed Carver, and they both got dressed.

An hour later, they were pulling into the parking lot of the FBI headquarters.

"So, you aren't going to tell anyone about what happened last night, right?" Carver asked nervously.

"Of course not, if anyone asks, I'll just make something up. It'll be fine." Reid and Carver got out of the car, only to find not just the BAU, but also the Art Theft team waiting for them. They were all wide eyed.

"Well, damn. You really did get him home. Good job, kid." Morgan clapped Reid on the shoulder.

"Wait, so he's really the Kid?" Kurogawa started.

"Wait, you had sex with the Kid?" Riley beamed.

"No, I didn't! I wouldn't have sex with the Kid!" Carver freaked.

"That's not what you said last night." Everyone glared at Reid.

"So you did have sex!" JJ yelled.

"Of course we didn't have sex! And even if we did, I definitely don't have pictures on my phone." Reid stared markedly to his left. A stereotypical sign of lying that even the guys at Art Theft couldn't miss.

"Omigod there are pictures on his phone!" JJ and Riley lunged for Reid's phone. Carver relaxed a bit. There was no way there'd be any pictures, since they never actually-

"Holy- They actually- Guys look!" Everyone ran over, including Carver. What the hell was this about pictures? Oh hell. Was that- were they naked? In bed? Damn, the team would never let him live this down. When did Spencer even take that picture? Spencer.

"SPENCER!" Carver bellowed, his face twisting into a mask of fury.

"You two are on first name basis? Cute." Rossi snarked.

"Told you he wanted me." Reid smirked.