AN: *shakes the dust off the keyboard* Wow, it has been a while. Funny how life gets in the way sometimes. Today I'm composing a simple one-shot for the CM Message Board's "One-Shot Fridays" prompt. The current prompt requires the story to center around a quote. For this fic, I will put the quote in italics (you'll have to look at it because I'm going to use it as part of the dialogue between characters). Nothing fancy here, just trying to warm back up a little bit. Get the creative juices flowing and all that jazz. I will be trying to write more consistently, but life has been rather demanding lately, so I can't make any promises. I thank my loyal readers that continue to read my stuff despite the long pauses. As always, I do not own Criminal Minds.

Derek Morgan almost tilted the bar stool over as he lifted himself onto it. The agent was exhausted and wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it. He was tired of being in Detroit. He was even more tired of the Unsub being three steps ahead of him. The team had been on the case for a week now, and they still seemed to be at square one.

"What can I get ya'," the bartender asked. No answer. He waved a hand in front of Morgan's face and asked again.

"Oh, sorry," Morgan replied, "Uh, I'll have a beer."

"We've got about twenty different types of beer."

"Budweiser."

"Comin' right up."

He shouldn't be drinking on the job. But maybe a little alcohol could ease the building frustration that came with this case. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice when the bartender brought him his Bud, nor did he notice the sharply dressed man that took a seat to his left.

"Drinking on the job," the man asked. Morgan's head snapped to attention.

"What are you doing here, Hotch," he asked, "Shouldn't you be back with the team?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I needed some air."

"Understood," Hotch said, "but it doesn't explain the drink."

"Wasn't thinking," Morgan answered, pushing the glass away. Hotch shrugged.

"You didn't have any, so it isn't a problem. You want to tell me why you are really here?"

Morgan sighed. Hotch wasn't the first person that he would have chose to talk about this. Rossi? Perhaps. Prentiss? Definitely. Hotch? Not so much. But here he was, stuck in a conversation that he didn't want to have. Might as well be honest.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore," he said, "We see some of the most gruesome things that the world can throw at you and we don't even flinch. We work our asses off and we don't get much in return. We don't get paid much, we barely get any recognition, and people continue to be murdered on a daily basis. Then we get caught in a case like this, and it is just so damn frustrating. The guy is always ahead of us and what he does to his victims keeps getting progressively worse. I just don't know how much more I can take."

"It's part of the job," Hotch responded, "We all go through it. We all deal with it in our own ways."

"I know, Hotch. I just don't know if I can deal with it anymore. I don't know if I'm fit to do this job anymore."

"I can't answer that for you, Morgan. However, I can assure you that you are good at this job. Damn good. You get emotionally invested in the case, and though that causes doubt for you, it also makes you extremely effective. The team would be missing a lot without you."

"Maybe. But how do you know when it is time to quit? How do you know when you are burning out?"

"Gideon used to believe that you should quit when you no longer feel anything. When you are completely jaded and none of it gets to you. When it stops gnawing at your soul."

"Yeah, well we saw how it worked out for him."

Hotch smirked. "True. It wasn't the happiest ending for him."

"What do you think? What would drive you to turn in the badge?"

"Someone once said 'Don't ever give up on something or someone that you can't go a full day without thinking about.' Pretty much sums up how I view it."

"Who said that one," Morgan asked with a dry chuckle.

"Don't know," Hotch said, "Not important. Guess my point is, if you took a vacation today, could you go the whole day without thinking about the job? Or someone on the team?"

Morgan scratched the back of his head and pondered the question. He pictured the times he spent playing cards with the team. He thought about the victorious smiles pasted on everyone's faces after saving a victim and bringing in the bad guy. He longed for the sweet voice of Penelope Garcia over his cell phone.

"No, I guess I probably couldn't."

"Then you aren't ready to quit yet," Hotch stated, "It's that simple. You aren't burned out yet, not even close, and there is still plenty of good that you can do with this team."

Morgan sat quietly as Hotch stood up from the stool and took a few paces away before turning back. "I've got a case to work. Are you coming with me?"

Morgan nodded as he got up. He followed Hotch out the door, leaving the untouched beer on the counter.

"Hotch," he said as he fumbled for his keys.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Hotch nodded before climbing into the SUV and driving away.

AN: Like it or hate it? Please let me know.