“We have to catch him in the act, we don’t have anything on him otherwise”, Morgan says with a shake of his head. The unsub, which they knew was named Charles Magnusson, had been killing transvestites who had all visited a certain gay club the evening they had gone missing. Three days later they turned up dead in alleys surrounding the very club they were taken from. They knew his name and face, but couldn't actually tie him to any of the crimes yet. All they had was circumstantial.
“We're going to have to send someone undercover”, Hotch agrees. “Reid, are you up for it?”
“Wh- what? Why does it have to be me?” Reid looks at Hotch, wide-eyed. “I can't, I'm way too nerdy and awkward. Why can't Morgan do it?”
“Because all the victims have been white, and you are the only one in the age range of the unsub’s preferences who could fit”, Hotch tells him. Reid looks down and sighs defeatedly.
“Fine. What am I going to wear?”
“Garcia is handling that, go see her in the office.”
Reid nods and straightens his back determinedly as he walks towards the office where Garcia was set up. As soon as he's inside, Garcia closes the door behind him and makes sure to draw all the blinds. “Don't worry, sugar, they won't be able to recognize you once I'm done dolling you up.”
“That's what I'm worried about”, Reid mumbles to himself, self-conscious as Garcia makes him drop his bag and sit down in the office chair.
“Close your eyes and let me work my magic.” Reid does as instructed, and managers to keep calm as Garcia applies what he assumes is makeup to his cheeks, eyelids, lips, and face. He jerks, however, when she starts tugging on his hair.
“Hey, what was that? I thought I was going to wear a wig.”
“Nope, sweetheart, your long, flowy hair is simply getting a makeover tonight, courtesy of moi”, Garcia grins and continues brushing Reid's hair, working out the tangles. “God, do you ever brush your hair?” She fusses over his hair for an eternity, in Spencer's opinion. Finally, she is done and steps back. “You look gorgeous. Now, all that's left is your clothes. You can't go around wearing that.”
Looking down at his clothes, Reid realizes she's right. He's still wearing his work clothes. Before he can have another thought, his lap is filled with an abundance of clothing items.
“Here, put these on. I'll be waiting with the others”, Garcia giggles as she leaves, making sure to close the door completely, leaving Reid alone. He looks over at the black computer screen to use it as a mirror and does a double take. He barely recognizes himself. Sighing once more, Reid gets to his feet and begins to remove his clothes. He lays out the clothes Garcia has left him one by one: a red silk dress, a black lace bra (which also has cotton stuffing for structure), black lace panties to go with the bra, stockings, and a pair of sleek, black high heels. Reid stutters a bit over the panties, Garcia can't expect him to wear those, right? Then he looks down at his own underwear and realizes they'll be a dead giveaway. Closing his eyes, he quickly sheds his boxer briefs and slides the panties up his legs, settling them in place with some trouble (where is his cock going to fit?). He finally gets them somewhat into place and moves on.
The bra goes on next, how Garcia managed to get his sizes he'll never know, and Reid proclaims it's nothing short of a miracle that he even gets it on in about the right place. The stockings are the next item he picks up. The fabric seems like it would fall into pieces as he holds it, and he considers not putting them on for all of five seconds before sitting down and pulling them up his legs.
“Why on earth did I agree to this? Morgan's gonna blackmail me for months”, Reid grumbles as he picks up the dress. He slides it up his body, surprised at how soft the silk feels against his skin. Twisting to access the zipper, Reid carefully zips the dress closed before putting on the high heels. Luckily Garcia had found a pair of shoes with a reasonably wide heel, so his balance isn't worsened by a lot.
In the conference room, the rest of the team are discussing how to approach the undercover operation at the club. Emily is the only one facing the door when it opens to reveal Reid, but the others turn to look at him as her mouth drops open. Morgan whistles.
“Damn, pretty boy, you clean up nice”, he teases with a grin.
“With a look like that, you'd make a fine Mrs. Rossi number four”, Rossi winks at him, looking Reid up and down before glancing at Hotch, who is glaring at Rossi. Hotch shakes his head before looking at Reid.
“Honestly, no, I'm not”, Reid admits, not looking at any of them. He's blushing underneath the makeup and hopes none of them can see it. “But I have to be, don't I?” Glancing up, Reid meets Hotch's eye, just in time for Morgan to take a picture of him.
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, Reid?” Morgan grins and shows Reid the picture. Reid's eyebrows raise as he takes the phone and looks at the picture. The curls, the face, the outfit… He really does look like a woman. Or, at least like a man dressed very convincingly as a woman. With shaky hands, he passes the phone back to Morgan and straightens his back.
“We should go before it gets too late”, Reid says. The team, finally getting out of their shock at Reid's appearance, all nod and scurry to get ready to head out.
Reid spends the drive to the club nervous and playing with the edge of the dress. Morgan is driving the car, Rossi next to him in the shotgun seat, while Hotch sits beside Reid to ground him. A hand moves to hold Reid's and steady it. Reid glances up at him gratefully and leans on him, his eyes sliding shut for a moment as he rests his head on Hotch's shoulder. Hotch wraps his arm around Reid's waist and holds him close as they approach the club.
Hotch lets go of Reid and leans over him to open the door. “Remember, Morgan and I will be in there as well for backup. Try to catch the attention of the unsub and let him lead you out of the club. There, we'll catch him before he does anything to you.”
Reid nods and gets out of the car, taking a deep breath before entering the club.
It's loud. The music is pounding in his ears. He makes his way over to the bar and leans against it, looking out into the club. A tall, dark, handsome stranger asks him to dance, and Reid agrees, knowing that the more people who see him, the more likely they are that the unsub sees him.
Just as they reach the dance floor, the song ends and is replaced by a much slower song, one that, in the back of his head, Reid knows he recognizes, but he can't place it. He is pulled closer to the stranger and lets the other control the dance. His arms wrap around the other's neck and his eyes slide shut as they rock back and forth to the rhythm of the music.
As the song ends, his shoulder is tapped by a man behind him. Reid turns around and is suddenly face to face with Charles Magnusson, the very unsub they were hunting.
“May I have this dance?” He says with a smooth voice and a welcoming smile. Reid nods numbly and pulls away from the stranger to take Magnusson’s hand. Magnusson leads him away from the crowd, and out of the corner of his eye, Reid spots Hotch watching them.
“I thought we were going to dance”, Reid says meekly when Magnusson makes him sit at one of the tables that were mostly out of sight from the rest of the club.
“I wanted to talk first”, Magnusson smiles at him and takes his hand across the table. Reid thinks he feels a sting in his hand, but isn't sure until he begins to feel dizzy. There had been no trace of any type of drug in any of the victims, but it had been three days.
“I-I don't feel so good, Charles, I think I need some air”, Reid says and gets to his feet, stumbling. Magnusson catches him. “Come with me, I'll lead you outside”, he says, holding Reid up as he leads him out the back door. The last thing Reid registers before blacking out is the burst of fresh air from the outside as the unsub leads him out of the club and into the darkness.
Seeing Reid stumble and struggle to walk makes Hotch's pulse race in his throat. He signals to Morgan to follow and hurries after Magnusson to catch him. Hotch opens the back door to see Magnusson lift Reid into a van.
“Charles Magnusson, FBI. Set him down, now!” Hotch yells as he draws his weapon. Magnusson turns with a sickening grin on his face.
“I don't think so, agent.” He uses Reid's unconscious body as a shield, but he’s beginning to struggle under his weight.
“Set him down, now”, Morgan sneers as he steps closer, his gun trained on Magnusson’s head. Magnusson concedes defeat after a moment and drops Reid half a second before Morgan rushes forward to cuff him and lead him away.
Hotch kneels beside Reid to check him for injuries and is relieved when it appears he hasn’t gotten hurt in the scuffle. “Come on, Reid, wake up”, he murmurs, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when the young man begins to stir. Brown eyes open and look up at him, out-of-focus.
“Aaron?” Reid mumbles, blinking rapidly to get his eyes to focus.
“Come on, Spencer, let’s get you out of here”, Hotch urges and helps Reid get to his feet, removing the heels and holding them as he supports Reid’s weight. the Unit Chief brings Reid back to the SUV and makes him lay down in the back seat. “Rest, Reid”, he whispers to him. Nodding slowly, Reid lets his eyes slide shut for the umpteenth time that evening and drifts off to the sound of his team members talking.
When Reid wakes up the next time, it’s because the rumble of the engine has stopped and the cold air of the night outside is making him shiver. Reid sits up and gets out of the car, feeling awkward as he follows his team into the hotel, high heels in hand, dress slightly skewed and hair a total bird’s nest. He hurries to catch up with Hotch and watches the other agents lock themselves into their rooms. Hotch looks at him with a small smile before opening the door, letting Reid enter first.
“How are you feeling?” Aaron asks him after the door slides shut behind him, making Spencer turn around.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck, but it was a small dosage and appears to be metabolizing quickly, I’ll most likely be completely fine within an hour. I also just want to get out of this outfit and never see it again.”
Aaron chuckles softly. “Come on, then - Garcia made sure you were supplied with makeup remover in the bathroom.” He holds his hand out to Spencer, who takes it gently and allows the other to lead him into the bathroom. The younger man sits on the toilet lid and leans back, watching Aaron shed his jacket and reach for the makeup wipe packet. He sheds his shirt and tie before crouching in front of Spencer.
“Close your eyes, sweetheart”, he says gently and reaches up to wipe away the eye-shadow and the rest of the makeup on Spencer's face. Aaron throws the used makeup wipe into the trash can once he’s done.
“Spencer, darling, come with me to bed”, he urges gently, once again taking his lover’s hand. Spencer gets to his feet and follows him back into the main room passively, just letting the drugs out of his system and trusting Aaron to take care of him. Aaron stops him beside the bed and moves around him to his back, and Spencer feels the dress fall off his slim shoulders and drop to the floor.
Aaron unhooks the bra next and helps Spencer get it off of his shoulders. He lays it over the back of the chair before returning to Spencer’s side, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Leading Spencer over to the bed, he lets the younger man sit down as he goes down to his knees, slowly pulling down the stockings, tossing them out of the way.
Spencer is laid back against the pillows and begins feeling more like himself as Aaron moves over him, kissing his lips and cheeks. Spencer kisses him back and wraps his arms around Aaron’s neck, pulling him in close. Aaron breaks the kiss and looks down at Spencer with a smile.
“Hey there”, he whispers, nudging his nose against the other’s gently, and gets a smile in return.
“Hi”, Spencer answers just as quietly, looking into his eyes. Aaron smiles and moves his lips down to Spencer’s neck, kissing down his throat towards his chest, making Spencer gasp and squirm a little.
“You did really well out there, sweetheart”, Aaron mumbles against his skin as he moves further down to his stomach, making Spencer draw it in as he gasps once more. The final clothing item is pulled off of his body, leaving him naked underneath the almost fully clothed man above him. A hand curls around his quickly hardening length as Aaron’s lips move back up towards Spencer’s mouth.
“That’s it, Spencer, relax for me, darling”, he whispers against his neck as he feels the younger man relax under his hand. Kisses move from Spencer’s neck to his jaw and further up to his lips. A moan escapes Spencer as they move together, long fingers tangled in short, dark brown hair.
Hips rock. Breaths quicken. Tongues taste each other again and again until the long-haired one throws his head back and comes with a moan. Aaron pulls away and leaves Spencer alone as he gets a washcloth from the bathroom. He cleans them both before undressing and joining Spencer in bed, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before tucking him in and holding him close.
“Sleep tight, sweetheart”, is whispered from Aaron to his lover before both fall asleep.