Author's note: Here is the second in my collection that follows "A Day Without Coffee" by Editor Frog. I hope you enjoy it.

Derek Morgan sat down on his couch eagerly. He was prepared for the day's events; he had an abundance of tortilla chips, salsa, sour cream, and cokes. He wore his favorite tee shirt and most comfortable sweatpants. Today was about pure gratification.

The team had finished a bad case yesterday, and Hotch made sure they had the day off-not just a paperwork day, but an actual whole day free. Morgan intended to enjoy every minute of it. He'd begun the day by sleeping in to nine, an unheard of occurrence for him. After taking Clooney (and dragging Reid) on his morning run, he showered and changed into his relaxation clothes. Now, his snacks were prepared and his Tivo was ready. Today was Catch Up on American Idol Day.

Derek was not ashamed to admit that he was addicted to the show. He recorded every episode in case he was out of town. He was behind six shows now, and he looked forward to seeing them all. Somehow, he convinced Reid to watch with him. Reid hardly watched TV anyway, and he especially disliked "reality TV." Derek figured that after the stress of the last case even the young genius needed a mental vacation. It didn't escape his notice, though, that Reid had a book "hidden" next to him on the sofa just in case.

He turned to Reid with a huge grin. "Are you ready?" Reid looked less than enthused. Derek shrugged and started the marathon.

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Four shows into the AI extravaganza, a pattern started forming in Derek's mind. He couldn't quite put his finger on it yet, but something was clicking. He paused the show and started to get up to get another soda. The frozen image on the screen caught his attention, and suddenly it was clear.

The idea that seized his brain was so shocking that he forgot to keep his grip on the jar of salsa. It hit the carpet and bounced, splattering all over him, the couch, and the coffee table. Fortunately for Reid, he'd given up on watching and was curled up in the corner of the couch engrossed in his book. The loud banging of the jar on the floor startled him, and he looked up to see Derek staring at the TV in shock. The salsa remained untended.

Reid jumped up and ran to the kitchen for some wet towels. He came back to find Derek frantically going backwards and forwards on his recording, completely ignoring the red spots covering him and his beige carpet.

"Morgan! What are you doing? What happened?"

"Huh? What did you say?" Derek finally turned his gaze from the TV to the floor where Reid was cleaning the mess.

"I said 'what happened?' You just made a mess with the salsa, and you were staring at the TV like Ryan Seacrest just grew another head!"

"Oh, sorry. I'll help you with that." Derek helped clean the salsa, and then went to get his soda. When he got back, Reid was looking at him quizzically.

"What?"

"What caught your attention a minute ago?"

"Oh right, I almost forgot! Watch this!" Derek started the recording, and paused it at the appropriate time so Reid could see. "See here?"

"What am I supposed to see?"

Derek gawked at him like he'd just said the sky was yellow. "You don't see it?"

"See what?" Reid asked emphatically.

"Ok keep watching." Derek skipped the recording ahead and paused again. "Do you see it now?"

"I don't know what it is I'm supposed to see!" Reid's voice betrayed his obvious frustration.

"Ok," Derek said with a sigh. "I'll show you a few more. You're the genius, the one who sees every obscure pattern imaginable. I can't believe you haven't noticed."

"Just show me!"

"Here," he said as he paused the recording again. After a moment he skipped ahead again. "Here." He skipped ahead more. "Here. Tell me you see it now."

Reid just gave him an angry, silent glare.

"All right genius, I'll spell it out for you." He started the recording over and paused in the same places. "See, here, notice what he's wearing." He turned expectantly to Reid, who looked back questioningly. "Ok, notice-dress shirt, tie, sweater vest. Next person-dress shirt, tie, scarf. Next-dress shirt, sweater vest. Next, dress shirt, tie. Next- dress shirt, ugly cardigan. Are you with me?"

"Morgan, that's great, but I have no idea what you are implying."

Derek was dumbfounded; he couldn't believe Reid didn't see the pattern. "Reid," he spoke slowly, as if to a toddler. "What do you wear on a daily basis?"

"Um, my usual clothes."

"Which are?" Derek was determined to make Reid figure this out.

"A button-up shirt, a tie, sometimes a sweater…" Reid trailed off, looking at the screen as realization hit him. "So what does that mean?"

"It means," Derek's voice was a mixture of shock and excitement, "that you are stylish!"

"How do you figure that?" Reid's voice and face showed total confusion.

"Because, my man, these people have well-paid, trendy stylists that show with them, or for them. So either someone in the fashion industry has decided to emulate you, or you've been ahead of the trend for some time. I can't believe this! All this time the girls and I have tried to get you to change your wardrobe, and you were right on the money! I can't wait to tell them!"

Reid remained silent through Derek's excited monologue. He watched Derek for a moment, and then he shrugged as he picked up his book again.

"Well, maybe that will teach you not to pick on me."

"That's doubtful but…" Derek trailed off as his brain struggled to accept the reality confronting him. He continued to stare at Reid in amazement. After a moment, Reid looked up at him with a mischievous smile.

"What?"

"Well, seeing as how I'm now the resident fashion expert, I was thinking you could use a few changes yourself…" The rest of his words were cut off by a throw pillow.

A/N: If you haven't seen this season, it really is like this. Check out the clips on youtube. (By the way, if you haven't been watching, check out Danny Noriega. He's so hot! But, sadly, he's gone from the show.)