Me again. Hope you all are having a Happy New Year!

See disclaimers.


"I look ridiculous."

Reid and Oliver were working hard to control their laughter. Hotch did look pretty strange—well, strange for the normally nattily dressed senior agent, anyway. Aside from a multicolored linen suit with wide lace ruffles along the collar and wrists and ankles, Reid had managed to find a red rubber ball nose and Oliver had convinced Hotch that he could 'sell' himself as a clown if his hair were dyed a bright shade of blue.

"You'll look great, Hotch," Oliver said. "I bet even Jack would walk up and say hi."

"Only because he'd recognize my voice," Hotch grumbled, unwillingly allowing the investigator to now apply bright white pancake makeup liberally to his face. "I can't believe I got stuck doing this…"

"All honesty? I put this one in."

"You, Oliver?" Reid said, surprised.

"Yeah. I was hoping Josh would get it. I love the man to death—or, well, he's got all of my respect anyway—but he just needs to…I dunno…loosen up."

Hotch shook his head as the black eyeliner was carefully applied. "I'm beginning to wish I'd pulled geisha duty," the man said under his breath.

"Oh, don't worry," Oliver said. "I know somebody is."

"You didn't…"

"Yep. I put that one in too."

----

Reginald smiled as he peered out of the Cloud Rover. "He's looking more and more like a circus performer every minute," the Britisher clucked.

"It'll do him some good, honey," Charlene said. "Man's always wound too tight as it is…maybe this will get that toad's stick out of his butt."

"The toad?"

"You know. Old bushel britches. Mr. Rule Nazi."

"Oh. Wilhelm."

"Lord, wouldn't I love a picture of this to give him!" Charlene laughed.

"Smile pretty, Aaron Hotchner," Gina said, holding up a special camera. "I'd like to see Wilhelm lose it too at the end of this."

Both Charlene and Reginald goggled at the normally quiet and reserved Gina.

"You two think you're the only ones who have to put up with his crap?" the younger angel said simply, shaking her auburn hair. "Remind me never to let JJ ride in a car with him ever again…"

----

"Okay, so, tattoo complete," Garcia said, checking the item off of Rossi's list. "And I got one too, so I say that should be worth bonus points."

"Better take that up with your plotter-in-crime," Rossi chuckled. "I daresay Oliver'd get his team to do something crazy just to keep up."

"No more than Morgan or Chase would," Garcia beamed. "You want competitive people, there's your pair."

"They'd sell their own mothers for a crack at the prize?"

"I don't' know about selling their moms, but I know for sure Morgan'd stand on a corner and whistle for work and Chase would clear a small city with a block of C4 and a toothpick. You ever played euchre with her?"

"Can't say as I have."

"Now there's an experience." Garcia rolled her eyes in mock-frustration.

"Well, back to your list. There's the tracking…"

"I'll focus on that tomorrow. What's next?"

"Hmm." Rossi read the three item list carefully. "Well, there's singing "Piano Man" live in a karaoke bar or going out for an evening dressed like a geisha. Plus the team event--"

"Which is?"

"Managing to book the honeymoon suite at The Plaza, complete with room service and the on-demand movie."

Garcia's eyes goggled. "The honeymoon suite? Oooh, I just know that one was Emily's idea!"

"Yeah, but there's a catch—we actually have to stay in the room all night."

"Really?"

"Yup."

The tech's eyes rolled. "I bet the challenge is just to get the room," she grumbled. "It's New Year's—there's probably a dozen couples who want the room, not to mention it's probably big enough for a hotel party…"

Rossi smiled. "Hang on…let me make a few calls…"

----

"Does thees man know everyone?!" Wilhelm said in surprise.

"I dunno. Way I hear it, he's pretty influential. Probably could charm a gold brick out of Fort Knox or whatever's passing for it these days," Jorge said, trying to smother a chuckle. "I bet they're going to have some fun with that one, really…"

"Mein Gott. Crazy people partying, perhaps too much alcohol, perhaps poisoned or spoiled food…"

Jorge rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt someone's going to do any of that. Pete tells me his lady's not much for drinking—one or two, then she's done. Something about a bad incident in her past…"

Wilhelm nodded. "Thees Rossi, though…he comes from Italian stock."

"Being a little judgmental, aren't we? I mean, I could say that all the German angels took vacation for a few decades a while ago…"

"Silence!" Wilhelm snapped. "Your point is noted."

Jorge rolled his eyes again. "How do the regular angels put up with you?"

"Usually it involves Charlene threatening to, ah…."

"Oh. Well, whatever works."

----

Chase snapped a picture. "There. I managed to make the turkey and potatoes," she said, trying to brush bits of said food items out of her hair. "And now I've got proof."

"I'd call that a success," Morgan confirmed. "At least, for you anyway."

"Thanks. I don't know whether to pat you on the back or shoot you in the foot."

"The former, please."

"Kinda what I decided." Chase patted Morgan's back, then put he food in the refrigerator. "We can just pick up some other stuff to go with it while we get you two going."

--By the way, where are we going, Morgan?— Kyle asked.

"Over to the local affiliate station in D.C.," Morgan said. "There's a certain lady that owes me a favor, and she can get our tape to go national…"

---

Connie flopped into the Cloud Cart, grateful that that horrifying experience was complete. "I thought she'd never quit," she said between ragged breaths.

"You're lucky she did," Anya said. "I've seen her go for days without food or sleep, just to execute a plan or win a bet of some kind."

The younger angel's eyes grew so wide they nearly popped out of her head. "You're kidding…"

"Nope. One time they were working this case in Miami…had to track down an old spy friend of hers for help, deal with his crew…hilarious, but it was a mess."

"Did they get the people they were after?" Stanley asked, now curious.

"Oh, yeah. Dope and gun runners, very nasty. Oliver's old unit got to take credit for the bust." Anya let out a chuckle at the memory of that particular 'job'. "And now I've got Kyle here going to proclaim his love for his girlfriend on national television…"

"Aww," Connie said. "That's sweet!"

"Plus, they've got to do Morgan's tomorrow," Stanley said. "Am I ever glad he drew having to impersonate a garden gnome…"