Chapter One

AN: Here is something like I haven't quite written before. Just a short, silly story that was dying to be told. I wrote "The Right Man" and so many people commented on these two... I seriously thought they deserved a story, with an MG twist, of course...Thanks to Sara for looking it over for me, dotting my i's and crossing my t's, and to Harlie, who usually has that capacity...

AN2: Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us for our first Profiler's Choice CM Awards on ! Help us choose the best of the best of the CM stories on , and let your voice be heard. Anyone with a account is eligible to nominate. Please check out the nominating ballot and rules at Chit Chat on Author's Forum at .net/topic/74868/30888142/1/. All rules and information are on the forum. (Better late than never, right? Sorry I kept forgetting!)

Entering her condo, she kicked off her heels and tossed her jacket aside with a groan. "O-M-F-G! Did you hear them this time?"

"Of course I did," he scoffed, throwing his overcoat on the chair in her apartment. "It's impossible not to hear or notice them."

She walked over to her bar and started pouring herself a stiff drink. "This is ridiculous. No person, much less five of us, should have to listen to those two as they moon over each other." She rolled her eyes, and dropped her voice a vew octraves, "My Baby Angel Girl. You know how much you mean to me..."

He nodded empathetically, with an equally sour look on his face. "I agree."

She didn't respond, just grumbled as she tossed ice in her glass, making a clinking sound.

"It's gotten worse since Alaska..."

"Ya think?" She took a sip of her bourbon, made a funny face, pounded the center of her chest, then held up the decanter in his direction. "Want one?"

He nodded, then stroked his beard for a moment. "You know, I think they need our help. I have never seen two such obnoxiously star crossed people in my life."

"We could do that," she said, her soft heart warming. As tough as she pretended to be, she was a very tender heart. As much as she teased that she was nauseated by the whole thing, she wanted to see her two friends whom she thought were destined to be together... simply be together.

She took a seat next to him on the couch and leaned forward, looking at the light brown liquid, how it splashed on the ice cubes as he swirled it. "Then it's settled, right?"

He took a big drink, then laid his glass down. "There is one issue..."

She scowled in deep thought. "What's that?"

"He's overweight, wears ugly shirts, and has thick spectacles."

She shuddered. "Lynch."

He nodded. "I can't figure a way around him without hurting our tech kitten."

"Oh, come on," she teased. "You're Italian. Don't you have any mafia relations that could take him out?"

He rolled his eyes at her this time and snickered, taking a sip of his drink again.

"Seriously... PG isn't that in love with him." She smiled a thoughtful grin. "She may think she is, but she wouldn't be so drawn to Morgan every time he walks into a room. She wouldn't watch Morgan's every move, call Morgan every night before she goes to bed, make every excuse to be near him."

"What about him? He has his hands on her whenever he can." He gave a laugh, and shook his head. "He's extremely obvious. She doesn't lead the touching; he does. Watch them, it's him. All the time, little hugs, kisses on the head, the cheek, an arm around her, holding her hand- whatever excuse he can get to maul the girl."

"True." She cocked her head to the side, really thinking. "Damn. I never noticed that before. He is awfully touchy-feely with her, isn't he?"

"Aaron and I used to take bets on who would walk in and find them kissing in her office." He leaned forward and clapped his hands togther in thought. "We thought that one day, someone'd walk in - Reid, you, myself- and they'd be caught in a serious lip lock."

Her eyes widened. "Hotch? Even Hotch bet on it?"

He nodded. "We were damned sure of it."

"God, it's worse than I thought. Hotch would never pry into the personal lives of the team unless he felt it was neccessary," she said, clasping his hand with a serious look on her face. "We really need to do something."

He cringed. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was play fairy Godfather to his coworkers. It wasn't his style, it wasn't something he felt driven to do. Like Aaron, he let people figure out their own messes.

Still, he found himself looking up and answering her. "I know."