"I'm darned sure I've seen you before, son. You sure we ain't met? Maybe worked a case together?"

Hotch gritted his teeth and nodded. "I'm sure. I would remember. Now, if we could just focus on this case, I would be very appreciative. What we're trying to figure out is-"

"Maybe I knew your daddy? He from hereabouts or he a city man like your good self?"

Ignoring Morgan's snort of laughter at his side, Aaron refused to lose his cool. "No sir, my father is not from err, hereabouts, now what we need to know is this. On the night of June eighteenth did-"

"Maybe I knew your momma then? She work around this area in years yonder? Maybe at the diner?"

"No, sir, I'm quite sure you didn't know my momma. Now, like I said time really is of the essence here and-" he paused to shoot Morgan a glare as he shook with mirth beside him "we really need to ascertain all the relevant details as quickly as possible. We've just arrived and we're already miles behind. There is a possible serial killer travelling through this town and we are presently unable to predict his next move or target. That is why we need information. I would really, really be very grateful if you could just listen to my questions and answer them. And only them, ok? Now, on June eighteenth, did you notice anything strange happening? Maybe someone stood out to you on that day, maybe-"

"You got a brother? A lil slip of a thing. Real nice teeth mind you, some of them gold ones?"

Morgan turned away to hide the fact that his eyes were beginning to sting with his bridled amusement.

"Yes, I have a brother. But his teeth are in their entirety, white. My family did not originate from this area. Can we please move on?"

"Originate? That mean y'all like…. aboriginal? You don't sound real like an Australian? If you'll pardon my say so, son. I know I just a lowly sheriff but I gots a keen interest in accents and the like and you don't sound like no Australian to me."

Hotch slowly closed his eyes as the last of his will to live escaped him with glee.

"Sheriff. Please. Just answer my questions. We really do not have the time. Now, we suspect that the man we're looking for would have spent some time here, but did not orig…wasn't born, wasn't born here. That alone would have made him stand out. He'd be about thirty, maybe younger. He would be very well dressed and would have made an effort to befriend as many people as he could during his stay here. He would have been well spoken and clean shaven, appearing well educated and-"

"I got it! I do declare I have it. You that lawyer, ain't ya? The fancy lawyer from the big city?"

Resisting the urge to shoot Morgan where he stood, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded.

"I was once a lawyer, yes. Perhaps that is in fact where you know me from. But about this case-"

"How's your wife, son? She done cracked me and my old lady up more times I can't even tell ya. And your momma? She's a card if ever I saw one, and your pops too. Don't even get me started on your in-laws now, hoot and a half I tell ya! A hoot and a half!"

Hotch blinked.

"Haley? You know Haley? And her parents?"

Sheriff Rochester suddenly became stern, his walrus moustache fluttering like a ruffled racoon.

"You stepping out on that lovely lady? Shoot, are you outta your tree boy?"

Hotch felt his mouth fall open. Beside him, even Morgan was swapping amusement for bewilderment.

"Sir? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean? Who do you think I am married to?"

The Sheriff smoothed his goatee in pronounced agitation and drew himself up to his full height.

"Why, Dharma, of course. Ain't you? I swear, Gregory, you two were just as cute as a button!"

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A/N: Random, silly nod to Thomas Gibson's Dharma and Greg days!

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