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The cat is out of the box

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Dr. Spencer Reid needed to get home.  It wasn't that he was drunk, but he didn't usually drink and tonight he did.  At the best of times Reid and co-ordination didn't belong in the same sentence, unless there was an "un" involved.  If possible Reid seemed worse around Morgan, something which only Penelope Garcia had noticed.

Morgan glanced over at the slightly buzzed Reid looking so adorable in tight, on anyone else, too tight, jeans and fitted Tee, and offered to take him home.  Penelope had hoped those jeans would do the trick.  Derrick Morgan caught himself staring at Reid, flashed a brilliant smile at Reid, and opened the door for Reid.  (Yes, they drive those black SUVs to parties.)  Reid couldn't believe his luck.  He fumbled with his seat belt all semblance of obedience had left his hands.  He nearly fainted as Morgan slid in the drivers seat and did his seat-belt up for him.  Morgan started the engine, stalling on telling Reid something he desperately need to say.

"It's now or never."  Morgan told himself for the hundredth time.  "Reid" he rehearsed in his head,  "We need to talk" or "Reid, I have something I have to tell you."  or "Reid, I'm in love with you, you're all I can think about, you're so beautiful, and kind, and you are the strongest, best person I know."  Oh god, did he just say that aloud?  "All or nothing" he noted in his head.  He reached over and took Reid's hands, accidentally dropped the clutch and stalled the SUV.  Reid, neatly tucked in his seat, didn't pull back as Morgan leaned over and kissed the softestbestmouthintheworld lips, with a little bite for good measure.  

Reid suddenly pulled away, gasped for breath and to Morgans relief mumbled "I want you."

Penelope Garcia considered the photo shop possibilities of that moment as she was mentally tallying her take from the bet.