So this one's for BeingDazzledByEdward, who wanted to see just how Reid ended up freezing in the middle of a Michigan deer camp. Here's how he did it, hon.

Standard disclaimers apply.

"He can't do it."

"Nope. Not in this lifetime."

Reid walked over to his two conspiring colleagues, who were trying hard not to look guilty of something. "Who can't do what?"

"Oh, nothing." Emily tried vainly to rebury her head into the thirty or so files littering her desk.

"We were just havin' a conversation," Morgan replied, a twinkle in his eye.

"About?"

Morgan's eyes raised a little. "You."

"Great. What did I do now?"

"Well, here's the thing…"

"We had to take our qualifiers last week," Emily said.

"Oh, no…" Reid quickly looked down at his page-a-day Far Side calendar that Garcia had gotten him as a 'thank you for helping with my taxes' present, along with two pounds of dark roast. "Please tell me…"

"Yep. Your turn."

Reid let out a sigh through his teeth. "Hotch isn't here, is he?"

"Waiting downstairs for you to give you a refresher."

The young agent glared at his colleagues. "How big's the pool this time?"

"What pool?" Morgan looked genuinely confused, but Reid knew that the man had been known to act convincingly on occasion.

"Last time there was a pool going around the building, when I had to qualify," Reid reminded him. "Some guy up in counterterrorism won."

"Eight hundred bucks," Emily groused. "I was this close, too…"

"Wait—you're telling me everyone bets on this kid to fail?!" Morgan exclaimed.

"Have you seen what Hotch looks like after he goes to train him again?"

"For five years now. He's gotten better."

"He had one lucky shot. That was God telling us Reid needs to be here longer, and so much the better for us."

Morgan looked at his colleague. "You don't know about the other one?"

"There was another one?"

"Yeah—Hotch and him were in this ER with a spiraling homicidal narcissist who was working as a long-distance 'angel of death.' Hotch pretended to kick the crap out of Reid here, just so he could get Hotch's backup and shoot him."

"I really was aiming for his leg!"

"You hit him between the eyes!"

Emily's eyes widened. "Wow."

"Kid, here is the bet I'm going to make with you," Morgan said. "You don't pass your qualifier on the first try, we're going to hook you up with some professional tutelage."

"Hotch isn't professional enough?"

"No, not that kind. I mean patience and marksmanship." Morgan's eyes traveled along the riser and settled on the second door from the staircase.

"Rossi?" Emily said. "I don't…"

"Word has it he's going to Michigan for a two-week deer hunt. Goes every other year, and it so happens that this is the year."

"Deer hunting?" Reid exclaimed. "I don't qualify, I go deer hunting?!"

"Pack warm," Morgan said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "I hear it gets cold there this time of year…"