FREAKING OUT ² ➢ spencer reid

XI

The next few days were awful.

Along with being on lockdown in my own house, I had the pleasure of dealing with Morgan on a twenty-four hour basis. At first it was fine, both of us joking around, driving to and from the office, while he worked the case. Eventually though, his inability to leave me alone trumped my need to be friendly towards him and by the time the weekend rolled around I could barely listen to him without rolling my eyes.

All week he'd be lecturing me about various things, nitpicking everything I did without even realizing it. On Wednesday, after Luke and I'd made dinner, I started on the dishes. Morgan immediately started helping, claiming it'd be rude not to. Instead of protesting I let him help, the two of us washing side by side. As I washed the plates though, he told me I was doing them wrong, claiming he knew a better way. I listened, for a second, but eventually cut him off, telling him he was being stupid.

After that we just kept arguing.

"Derek I don't care if you think the way that I do laundry is stupid! It's my laundry!" We were on our way to Rossi's house, which oddly enough I was excited about.

"You were the one complaining about how long everything took to dry," he retorted angrily, "if you put less stuff in it'll dry faster!"

I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes. I knew he was right, but given the events over the last week I wasn't about to let him have it. He knew it too, yet, he continued. The whole way there he rambled on and on about the dynamics of drying, expressing way too much interest in the topic. By the time we rolled into Rossi's driveway he was red in the face, ranting about the proper way to separate your clothing for optimal cleaning. Instead of listening, I let out a heavy sigh and jumped out of the vehicle, slamming the door as I walked up to the front of the house alone.

"Why are you so angry right now?" He yelled.

I went to knock on the door, stopping once I heard his voice. I turned on my heel, narrowing my eyes as I watched him walk to my side and glare. "All week I've been under fucking house arrest dealing with you! Do you know how exhausting that is? Dude, I love you, but you're so particular about every single little thing I do and you never shut up about it!" I waved my arms around wildly as I spoke, watching his angered expression suddenly fall.

He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he stared down at the ground and closed his eyes.

"I'm fully aware being the agent assigned to babysit isn't fun, but neither is being the child," I added, "it sucks, a lot, and I know you guys are working hard to catch this guy, but that doesn't make this any easier."

"I know," he sighed.

"I know you do," I replied matter of factly, "so could you please just... keep some of your opinions to yourself?"

For the first time in four days he chuckled, nodding his head as he reached out and pulled me into his chest. He gave me a tight squeeze, shaking me back and forth. "You're a pain in my ass," he grumbled, "but I'm sorry. I'll shut up more."

I smiled to myself, pressing my cheek against his chest. Out of everyone I'd classify Morgan as more of a sibling than a friend. As much as I loved him how well we got along he was still a pain, always butting in and making things difficult.

"Now, let's go inside and have some drinks. We could both use it."

"Yes please," I sighed.

Morgan released me from his grasp and knocked on the door. Together we waited silently, looking around the exterior of the house until Rossi answered. He was holding a pair of wine glasses in his hands. The sound of music playing from inside the house as he wiggled his hips back and forth and smiled in our direction. "Ciao amici miei," he greeted. His pushed the wine glasses into our hands and ushered us inside. Both of us laughed awkwardly as we followed his dancing frame to the kitchen where everyone else was. "Now it's a party."