Question of the Day
"So," Morgan said as they left Indiana behind on their way back to Quantico. "Do you think he's ever been?"
Prentiss turned from the window and looked at him with confusion.
"Reid, I mean, do you think he's ever been to see an exotic dancer?"
"I don't know. He was quick to assure the dancer we were talking to that he wasn't judging her; he'd grown up in Las Vegas by God. So, who knows, he might have."
Morgan shook his head, "Reid seems too innocent for that."
"Innocent, sminocent," Emily responded. "You know Reid's got a normal curiosity, a more than normal curiosity and, all innocence aside, he's a guy after all."
Morgan kicked Prentiss under the table as Reid sauntered back from the restroom and took his seat beside Emily. "Why don't you ask him?" she said.
"Ask me what?" Reid wanted to know as he lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
"Morgan was wondering, you know, if you'd ever been to see exotic dancing."
Reid choked on the coffee he'd just sipped. "What?" He squeaked, causing Rossi in the seat behind the threesome to smirk. This could get interesting.
"It's a simple question genius," Morgan replied.
"Technically, exotic dancing can mean different things depending on the context." Reid spouted as he tented his hands in front of him. "Exotic means not native, or foreign, so exotic dancing could be any kind of dancing that doesn't conform to normal customs or steps like ballroom and Latin dance do. Whirling dervishes, shamans, even breakdancing could all be considered exotic dance."
"You know what I mean Reid." Morgan replied.
"The striptease part of exotic dancing was believed to have begun with Mata Hari. Her real name was Margaretha Zelle McLeod who moved from the Netherlands to the Dutch East Indies. She became interested the Indonesian dancing traditions and joined a local dance company. 'Mata Hari' is Indonesian for sun or, more literally, eye of the day. When she parted from her husband, she went to Paris where she began performing as a Dutch exotic dancer, the most legendary part of her act being when she would gradually relieve herself of her clothing. She later became a courtesan for many high ranking government and military officials, and it was believed that she took information they let slip to her during their liaisons and passed it on to the Germans in World War 1, but that was never totally proven and she may have been completely innocent. She was executed by a firing squad in France for espionage." Reid finished, stopping for a breath.
Morgan laughed. "Oh man, I'd love to see you on the witness stand."
"K…Kurt Vonnegut dedicated his novel Mother Night to Mata Hari," Reid looked back and forth between Prentiss and Morgan.
"Enough with the Mata Hari kid, it's a simple question." Morgan groaned, the exasperation evident in his voice. "Have you ever been to a strip joint?"
Reid was quiet for a moment. "Reid," Emily said, touching his hand, which rested on the armrest between them, with her own. "I won't think less of you if you have."
"And," Reid paused for a long moment, "if I haven't."
"Then we're going on our next night off," Morgan replied.
"Okay, okay I…"
"What do you think?" Rossi looked up from his book and whispered to Hotch who had just looked up from the paperwork he'd apparently been working intently on, although his friend knew he too had been eavesdropping on the conversation between the three younger profilers.
"Well, on one hand, there's his natural inquisitiveness…" Hotch began.
"And on the other, his awkwardness around women," Rossi finished for him.
"Yes, there's that," Hotch agreed.
Rossi was pensive for a moment. "I'd say it's a definite…"
"Maybe," Hotch concluded.
