Skittles Defeats Me

It wasn't often Morgan heard Hotch curse. In fact, he could count the times on one hand-once after Haley left him when he'd gotten drunk, once when he'd woken up after an unsub had whacked him with a two-by-four, and once when they'd first joined the BAU and Strauss had somehow 'accidentally' dropped a box of files directly onto his foot.

This made time number four.

Hotch was in his office, and whatever his issue was, he was cursing with a surprising fluency and pounding on something on his desk.

He and Reid exchanged looks. They were back after the mold escapade, and Strauss was staying firmly behind her doors. According to Garcia she hadn't even called Hotch. So whatever it was that irritated him, it wasn't Strauss.

"Don't look at me, kid."

They both looked up at Hotch's office again, then back at each other. Then, since Rossi was busy harassing Garcia about something and couldn't be counted on the fix this, nor was Prentiss close to hand, they went up.

"Hotch! What's the problem, man?" Morgan asked through the door. Reid was peeking over his shoulder.

Hotch looked up, flustered, his normally perfect hair pointing in six directions.

"I handle serial killers on a daily basis. I deal with goddamn Erin Strauss every other day. Generally I do those things well, don't I?"

"Sure, man," Morgan wished they had never come up. This was a 'Hotch is having a breakdown get Rossi up here stat' mess. He had nothing to help him deal with that.

"I am a competent person with a damn law degree. I have talked judges into dizzy circles. So please explain to me how the hell I am being defeated by a package of fucking Skittles?"

Reid giggled silently into Morgan's back. Morgan had no one's back to giggle into, so he had to not break a rib and help Hotch with his problem.

It didn't go well.

He and Reid were laughing all over each other. "Sorry, man. Hey! Wait!"

Hotch had taken the package of Skittles and launched it like a missile, which skimmed Morgan's head. That was followed by a paperweight and a telephone.

"Shit!" Morgan dragged Reid behind him down the stairs as Hotch followed with various airborne weapons-a stapler, a box of paper clips, a spare clip for his gun, and other things that were too fast to identify. "Chill out, man!"

"You and the horse you rode in on!" Hotch answered, and slammed the office door to keep them out.

The silence was deafening.

They hid behind Morgan's desk, panting.

"Morgan."

"I know, kid. We may have to take him to the funny farm for real this time."

"It was about Skittles."

"I know."

"You laughed at him."

"You were giggling first."

"I don't giggle."

"You did. Into my back. I couldn't help it. It was contagious."

"So it's my fault we were almost killed by UFOs from Hotch's desk?"

"You were a significant factor."

"It was your decision to go up."

"Shut up, Reid. See if he's looking down here."

"No way. What if he throws a hand grenade next?"

Rossi came in the BAU doors with Prentiss. They looked at Reid and Morgan, at the trail of debris, and at Hotch's office. Prentiss looked at them again.

"Was he trying to open Skittles by himself?"

Reid nodded, and Rossi did after him.

"I thought he was all up on Skittles when we left," Rossi commented to Prentiss.

"So did I. Damn, he might be onto us."

"Hang on," Morgan interrupted. "On to you two what?"

"Opening his Skittles," Prentiss explained. "One of us does it when his back is turned so that he doesn't do this tailspin thing when he can't get the package open."

"You missed a package," Reid informed them.

"I know I didn't, Dave. They were all open in his desk when I left."

"He must have gotten another from vending, then."

"You or me?"

"You. You're less threatening. I'll clean up," Rossi waved at the office supplies. "But I gotta ask, you two-"

"Don't," Morgan advised, getting up from his crouch and giving Reid a hand up.

"We won't help him with candy anymore," Reid promised. "Or try to."

"They laughed," Rossi announced, getting Hotch's cell phone and Skittles, both of which went into Prentiss's hands. Prentiss nodded.

The two profilers experienced enough-or, alternately, crazy enough-to deal with Hotch's candy meltdown went to clean up.

Morgan shook his head. "I thought Strauss was nuts."

"She is. And I had an idea."

Morgan was already shaking his head. "We're still getting the stink eye from the last thing you did. I hope we'll be let live if she finds out about the fungus."

"Morgan-"

"No."

"One hour at Home Depot. That's all. And a wingman."

"Kid-"

"Come on!"

Author's Note: I actually did have an incident similar to Hotch's with a package of Skittles like you get going through the checkout. Could not get that bitch open for love nor money. I had to stab the package open once I got home-with a steak knife. Although, my breakdown didn't involve flying objects!

And thank you for all the reviews! Reviews make me write more! Hugs!