It had been a long and draining case, so the team had decided to spend the night out to celebrate their success and unwind a little before they departed the next day. Hotch, Gideon, Morgan, Reid, Prentiss and JJ were walking down the busy streets lit up with nightlife, looking for a club or bar. They'd finally found a place that appeared to be hopping when Gideon gave Hotch a meaningful glance before the former entered the bar. Prentiss and JJ followed him inside, but when Morgan and Reid tried to cross the threshold, they were blocked by Hotch's arm.

"What the hell, man?" Morgan asked, pushing at Hotch's arm and when he didn't yield, trying to sneak under it.

"Gideon and I have decided it would be best for Reid if he spent the evening somewhere… a little more child-friendly. It wouldn't feel quite right leading him straight to corruption."

"Great," Morgan replied, preparing to take a wild, running leap over Hotch's arm, "But what has this got to do with me?"

Hotch glanced at Reid, who was busy digging through his bag, mumbling something about a hangnail and scissors. "He feels comfortable with you. I need you to watch him, keep him company."

Morgan's mouth dropped open. "With all due respect, Hotch, why don't you go with him? I'm used to, you know, having a life and a drink every once in a while."

Morgan swore he saw an evil smile creep onto Hotch's grumpy little face. "Because," Hotch said, "I'm your superior and this is an order." And he slammed the club door shut.

Morgan swore loudly.

"Bless you," Reid squeaked as he clipped at his pinky nail.

"Come on," Morgan directed, motioning for Reid to follow him.

"Why?" Reid asked. "I thought we were all going to par-tay."

"Do me a favor and don't talk," Morgan grumbled.

"Okay, daddy," the younger man replied as he scuttled along in Morgan's wake like a duckling following its mother.

The pair continued to walk in disgruntled silence until Reid stopped suddenly.

"Reid, hurry up," Morgan called over his shoulder.

"Hey, look, Morgan!" Reid exclaimed excitedly. "This looks like a really fun place to party!"

Morgan followed Reid's gaze. "Reid, my man…" he said, shaking his head and placing a hand on Reid's shoulder.

Reid ignored his friend. "Come on, Morgan," he said, and started to run towards the building.

"Reid," Morgan called, "Look both ways before crossing the street!" But soon, the young man had entered the building and, still shaking his head, Morgan hurried to catch up.

There were children jumping around on colorful balls, children playing at slot machines, and children racing vehicles at illegal speeds and not wearing seat belts or helmets. It was Chuck E. Cheese's! Being an underprivileged youth, Reid had never before set foot in such a plethora of magic. Morgan was wishing that he had never set foot in such chaos. Currently, Reid was at the counter trying to haggle for tokens. As Morgan approached, he caught the tail end of Reid's desperate pleas.

"…If 32 degrees Fahrenheit and zero degrees Celsius is freezing, than you need to give me C + F + five billion tokens, please."

The employee gave Reid an alarmed look. However, he was soon looking far more alarmed when Morgan drew his gun.

"FBI. Hand over the tokens!"

"H-how many tokens?" the poor employee stuttered.

"As many as the kid wants."

Reid had his fanny pack filled with tokens.

"Wow Reid, you got a lot of junk in your fanny pack," Morgan snickered, following Reid to a game.

"I grew up in Vegas but I was never allowed to play there."

"Uh huh."

"Since I'm not physically coordinated, would you mind pressing that button exactly when I tell you to? Statistically, I can predict the precise millisecond the light will hit the winning bulb."

"Yeah, sure, Reid."

Morgan skillfully poised his hand above the lit button as Reid slipped two tokens into the slot. Reid's eyes followed the spinning light in circles while Morgan waited. Seconds passed. Then minutes.

"Reid?" Morgan said, glancing in the genius's direction.

Reid was passed out on the floor.

"Reid! Come back to me buddy!" Morgan yelled, shooing children away from Reid's body.

One little girl had climbed on top of the fallen agent and was trying to slip tokens into his mouth, thinking he was a ride. Morgan pulled out his gun and the little girl quickly fled the scene. He then dropped to his knees and began slapping Reid's soft little baby cheeks. His face ones. Reid groggily opened his eyes.

"I got dizzy." He smiled sheepishly.

Morgan decided that Hotch and Gideon were wrong. Reid probably would have been safer at the bar than at Chuck E. Cheese's.