Author's Note: First off, please don't hate me! I've seen several stories out there where Derek cheats, and I just wanted to turn the tables on that. The song, 'Easier to Lie', inspired this fic. Also, I own nothing (except, obviously, the OC).

Spencer sat at the bar, watching Derek on the dance floor. He really despised the nights when Derek would want to spend a night out, mainly because he'd get offers from strange women to dance with him, and he'd never refuse. Time after time, he had to watch his boyfriend all but have sex with them. He stirred the straw in his drink, checking his watch, and wishing the night would go by faster.

Garcia sat down next to him, nudging his arm. "Everything okay over here, soldier?"

He gave her a nod, taking another sip of his drink.

"You can't lie to Garcie, sweetie. Come on, out with it."

He motioned toward the dance floor, where Derek was currently surrounded by three attractive women throwing themselves at him. "We've been together for three years, I'd like to think he would respect me enough not to grind up on strange women."

"It's just dancing. I'm completely positive that all of them are going to be extremely disappointed at the end of the night."

He shrugged it off, setting his drink down. "I'm going home. I have to prepare for a guest lecture in the morning. Make sure he makes it back to his apartment safely?"

"Scout's honor."

He gave her a nod, before walking out to the parking lot and hailing a cab.

Sitting on the couch with his legs tucked underneath himself, he looked down at his notebook, where he was attempting to write out his speech. He could never really understand why they insisted on sending him out to recruit new agents at colleges: considering how advanced his knowledge was, and how poor he did at public speaking, surely there were better options. Rossi had mentioned previously that they may have him do it because of his age, but sometimes he couldn't help but think he was the only one who was willing to do it, considering he had a hard time saying no to anyone.

He had just finished his speech when his phone started ringing. Reaching over, he checked the caller ID and sighed, answering it.

"Hello?" he said, reading his speech and committing it to memory.

"You took off early on me, Pretty Boy."

He rolled his eyes, setting his notebook on the table. "Excuse me for not enjoying the spectacle of my boyfriend dry humping strangers on the dance floor."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Spencer, it's nothing. It's just dancing."

He shook his head. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Spencer-"

"What?" he snapped.

"Don't go to bed mad. I promise you, it's nothing."

He chewed on his cheek before exhaling. "Derek, I really need to finish this speech tonight if I'm not going to make a complete fool of myself tomorrow."

"Then tell me you're not mad."

"I can't do that. Whether you were going to do something or not, the fact that you allowed them to think you would by dancing with them is disgusting."

"What do you expect me to do, Spencer, not go dancing and enjoy myself? You weren't exactly offering to go out there with me. In fact, you were practically cemented to your seat when I tried."

"Oh, so because I refuse to dance with you, you don't take one of our coworkers, and instead take strange, attractive women who quite obviously want to sleep with you? That makes complete sense, Derek." He walked over to his door, checking the lock, before walking back to the bedroom, sitting on his bed. "I fail to see how you did me a favor."

He groaned. "Spencer, I was just trying to have some fun after a 15 hour day. You can't blame me for that."

"I wanted to have some fun, too. I wanted to come back to my apartment, have a few glasses of wine, and watch a movie on the couch. Your definition of fun after work is having strange women throw themselves at you and have them buying you drinks. Call me crazy, but I fail to see how having to watch that can be considered 'fun'."

"Spencer, please, just don't go to bed angry, okay? Can we just meet for breakfast in the morning?"

Rather than arguing, he sighed. "I'll meet you at the diner before I have to head to Potomac."

"…You're doing this one alone?"

He laid back. "Yeah, it's just me this time."

"Impressive. Don't get tricked into a fraternity or join any clubs."

Spencer mock laughed.

"And no more degrees. Bordering on six is more than enough for you right now."

He smiled slightly. "We'll see." He looked over at his alarm clock and sighed. "I need to get some sleep. I'll meet you for breakfast at about 8:00?"

"Sounds great. If you need to run your speech by me ahead of time, you can. I could help you make it sound more, for lack of a better word, human."

He rolled his eyes. "Good bye, Derek."

"Love you, Spencer."

He shook his head. "I love you too. Now good night."

"Night."

He hung up, reaching over and plugging his phone in. He was still mad at Derek for his actions, but he had to admit he was right: he definitely couldn't go to bed angry with something important to do the next day. Sighing, he turned over on his side, falling asleep.

The next morning, Spencer sat in the diner, stirring the sugar into his coffee. He wasn't sure why he agreed to this breakfast date with Derek, considering he was still furious with him. He sipped his coffee, setting it back on the table and looking at the clock: he was used to being early or their breakfast dates, but he definitely wasn't used to Derek running late. It was already 8:10 and there was no sign of him. When he finally walked in, Spencer looked up at him.

"You're late."

He slid in the booth across from Spencer. "I'm sorry. I had to pay my neighbor for watching Clooney and take care of a few things."

He sighed, leaning back and picking up his menu. "Did you have fun last night?"

Derek looked at his own menu. "Until I realized that I'd been left alone by my boyfriend, yes."

Spencer shook his head. "I told you, I wasn't going to sit back and watch you practically having sex with strange women on the dance floor."

"I really don't want an argument right now, Spencer. Can we talk this out tonight at my place?"

He thought about it. "Will you have red wine?"

"Of course."

He exhaled. "Fine. I shouldn't be going to a lecture when I'm upset anyway."

As they were eating, Derek looked over at him. "Do you want me to read your speech?"

"Why, you're afraid I don't sound human?" he asked, reaching for his satchel.

"No, I'm just nervous for you to do your first recruitment lecture solo." He held his hand out, waiting.

Spencer sighed, taking out his notebook and handing it to him. He sat up, watching Derek intently as he read through. He was hoping his body language would give something away, but was having no luck.

Derek finally set down the notebook ten minutes later, eyebrows raised. "Wow."

"…It's too long, isn't it? Or too short? Or I used too much terminology… but did I not use enough? I don't know, maybe I should just rewrite it." He reached out to grab the notebook, but Derek pulled it back.

"You've actually written something amazing. I can understand it, it's witty, it's interesting, and you're definitely going to keep the attention of a bunch of college students."

He smiled slightly. "Really?"

"Really." Derek held out the notebook to him, and he quickly took it, stuffing it into his bag.

After they paid the bill, Derek looked at him. "What time are you getting out of this thing?"

He shrugged. "It depends, really. I'm supposed to be guest lecturing in one class, but if they like me, I may be able to speak in all of the Criminology courses today."

"So you're not going to be at work today?"

He shook his head. "I'll be lecturing until noon, and then if the other courses work out, my last one would end at six."

"Dinner at seven?"

He thought to himself. "I'll let you know." He stood up, putting his bag over his shoulder. "I'll call you once I know anything."

"Sounds great." He wrapped his arms around Spencer, kissing his forehead. "Good luck. Not that you'll need it."

He smiled to himself. "Thank you. Don't have too much fun at the BAU without me."

"Considering my day is going to be filled with case files and Garcia occasionally coming into my office, asking for details about our relationship? Trust me, your day is going to be much more interesting."

"We'll see about that. If I don't put anybody to sleep, I'll consider it a victory."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." He leaned over, kissing his cheek again. "Your speech is going to go great, everyone's going to stay awake, and I'm willing to bet you'll even have time for a Q&A session."

"High expectations. Let's hope they're met." He crossed his fingers before walking outside, making his way to the subway station.

As the train was moving, he ran through the speech in his head. With his eidetic memory, it was simple, but he tried to add in a few things here and there to make it more interesting. Derek had given him a vote of confidence that it would go well, but he just wanted to be sure. When he got in front of a crowd, he had a habit of clamming up and randomly spurting facts instead of focusing on the subject matter: case in point, his 'joke' on existentialism that bombed and made him seem like a complete idiot. With the research he had done, he was ready to, for the first time, wow the crowd and have them pay attention to every word he said. In the back of his mind was his mini-argument with Derek the night before, and hopefully resolving it later, though there was a part of him that was thinking it would just lead to another argument, as it usually did. Sighing, he put his notebook into his bag, running through the speech one last time before getting off at his stop.

Spencer stood at the front of the classroom, reviewing his notes one last time. Luckily, he'd arrived early and was able to set everything up, including the Powerpoint presentation to go with his notes. His mind tried to nag him about everything happening with Derek, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the day ahead. There were definitely more ideal time slots to be giving a lecture: considering 9:00 a.m. was the first class of the day, he wasn't sure he'd reach his goal of not putting someone to sleep. He watched as the class slowly started to fill up, and was surprised to see so many people. When he had been in school and there were guest lecturers, his fellow students tended to skip it, as nothing the speaker would say was included on exams.

Once the clock struck nine, he was pleasantly surprised that every chair in the classroom was full of twenty-something year-olds, eager to hear what he had to say. Most of them sat up straight, ready to take notes, which he found impressive.

The professor walked up to the front of the class. "As you know, we have a guest lecturer in class: Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Today, he'll be speaking with you about profiling, his work in the BAU, and I'm sure at the end, he'd be happy to take your questions."

Spencer nodded slightly, standing up and walking over to the podium, pressing the button to turn on the presentation. "Thank you, Professor Miller." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, as she said, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, and I've been an agent with the Behavior Analysis Unit for the past eight years. First off, can anybody tell me what profiling is?"

Someone in the front row raised their hand, which Spencer was surprised to see. "Yes?"

"It's a behavioral and investigative tool, which helps investigators predict and profile an unknown criminal subject or multiple offenders."

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Correct. And when we use forensic profiling, it counts as evidence that can be used in court, but I'm getting ahead of myself. On the job, my team and I look for unknown subjects, abbreviated as unsubs. There are typically five procedural steps in generating a profile…" he clicked a button on the remote and looked up at the screen, satisfied that he was doing well. "First, we need to do an analysis of the nature of the crime, as well as compare it to other people who have committed such crimes in the past. Earlier this year, we studied a serial killer in California who was replicating the Zodiac Killer, who is still at large today. Second, we need to analyze the crime scene. Usually, one or two members of the team will take care of that step. Third, we look into the victim's background and activities to look for any possible connections. From this, we try to generate a geographical profile and try to pinpoint a comfort zone or where the unsub will attack next." He cleared his throat, glancing up at the screen. "Fourth, we look at the factors for the motivation behind the crime. Sometimes, serial killers commit their crimes because the victim is a surrogate for someone who hurt them in the past, whether they were assaulted or abused by a parent or somebody they otherwise trusted. Finally, we come up with a description of the offender, complete with characteristics in comparison to previous cases. We often draw from cases in the past to help us come up with profiles on unsubs we don't quite have enough to generate a complete profile on." He felt himself rambling and shook his head. "At this point, we generate the profile, give it to the police, and with the help of our technical analyst, we're able to go through a process of elimination and find our unsub before he takes another victim." He looked around the room, hoping he hadn't lost anybody. "Any questions?"

The same person who raised his hand before raised it again.

Spencer pointed to him. "Yes?"

"How do you know which cases you're going to work?"

He thought about his response. "Well, we have specific people in the unit who are able to weigh the options on cases, and choose where another crime is most imminent. For example, we'd take a case involving a family annihilator who could target other families over say a case where there was a murder the third Friday of every month. I personally wouldn't be able to do the job, so I need to commend those who do."

Several other hands went up, and Spencer gladly spent the rest of the lecture answering the questions in great detail. Everyone seemed to enjoy the class, and he definitely considered this lecture to be a success – a much bigger one than his past experiences. After the class, several of the students came up to him to meet him, and he wasn't used to the attention – when he went to recruitment lectures with Rossi, he'd usually get the attention for his writing and his past in criminology, while Spencer would stay toward the back. He had to admit, it was a welcomed change.

He was able to stay and lecture in two other classes, and saw a few repeat faces in the crowds. People were never especially interested in what he had to say, especially when he repeated it several times, and seeing people eager to hear him several times in the day was refreshing. Once the last lecture was over, he put his bag over his shoulder after taking out the flash drive, tucking it into the front of his bag. He texted Derek, letting him know he'd be at his apartment soon, and stuffed his phone into his pocket as he walked into somebody in the hallway, causing them to drop their books.

"Oh, wow," he bent down, scooping up the books, "I am so so sorry. I should've been paying attention to where I was going. I haven't been in a school hallway in years and I still find a way to make a fool of myself. I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, they're just for fun – nothing I had to spend my life savings on."

He handed the books to their owner and looked up as they both stood up. He recognized him as someone who came to all of his lectures that day, always asking insightful questions. "Did you enjoy the lecture?" he asked, fixing his bag.

"All three of them," the younger man admitted. Spencer looked him over and knew he had to be in his mid to late 20's, based on his appearance.

He smiled to himself. "Didn't you have other classes to go to?"

"It's… it's actually my day off. I've read some of your published articles and when I heard you were speaking in the senior criminology courses today, I hate to sound ridiculous, but I had to come see you."

Spencer raised his eyebrows. "You wanted to hear me?"

"Your articles are so insightful and, I have to admit, it's refreshing to see someone so young with so much knowledge."

Spencer held out his hand. "I've already introduced myself to you three times today. Your name is-?"

The man quickly took his hand, shaking it. "Mason Adams, it's been an honor."

He smiled. "Trust me, having someone enjoying my constant rambling was a breath of fresh air. Are you looking to get into the FBI?"

"I'm actually working on my Masters right now, considering I'm out of the academy right now with an injury, and have to wait another three months to officially join the bureau."

He reached in his bag, taking out a card. "If you ever want to talk, just give me a call. I'd be more than happy to answer any more of your questions. We could meet up for coffee sometime, or maybe go to a library. It all depends if I'm on a case with the team, but I'll gladly fit you into my schedule sometime if you'd like."

Mason looked at the card with a smile. "It sounds like a plan. I'll be sure to give you a call soon."

Spencer gave him a nod. "Nice to meet you, Mason." He walked away, fixing his bag on his shoulder one last time before walking out, making his way toward the subway station. It was definitely a breath of fresh air to have someone actually interested in him after a lecture.