"Morgan just ask already!"
The pointed exclamation came from one of the desks in the bullpen, specifically the one where a young man with brown hair was enthusiastically telling the dark skinned man near him to stop being — and Hotch couldn't believe it — shy and just ask the the question that had been troubling him.
For a hour, a whole hour, Morgan had kept glancing at Reid with the expression of a kicked puppy, hoping that the younger man would just read his mind and give him an answer without him making a fool of himself. Of course, Reid — that couldn't read minds, no matter what some people might believe — had been patiently waiting for Morgan to ask him but he was getting annoyed.
"It's a stupid question." The man said finally.
"There's no such thing as a stupid question." Replied Spencer quickly.
Finally, he thought, finally it could end.
"Alright then."
A few tense moments passed where Morgan didn't try to say anything. It was ridiculous and Reid had obviously had enough.
"What. Is. The. Question."
"Ah! Yeah, um..." He started.
Hotch tried to hear as best as he could even if he was sure it would be something completely idiotic. But then, when Reid and Morgan were together one could never know.
"What's in mango salsa?" Asked the latter finally.
"I stand corrected." Replied Reid, before going back to work without really being concentrated. There was shocked expression on his face and Hotch briefly wondered if the pure, unadulterated, idiocy of the question had been enough to send him into shock.
"Reid? You didn't answer."
"Think about it for a second, Morgan. Think about it." Said the young man tiredly, shoulders bowed under an invisible pressure.
"... Ah."
Hotch had heard enough. He didn't know what was wrong with his agents, but he resolved to give them as little time in the office as possible. They simply weren't themselves when working on paperwork. Or maybe they were too free to express their true personality.
He was afraid of the answer.