So I need some suggestions as to where I take this fic. Psycho Beth is on the way but after that, I am kinda clueless. Let me know what you are hoping to see! Also, this will not be a long multichapter as I'm concentrating on writing 'My Dark Duke'. Very sorry about that.

Also, thank you all so very much for your lovely reviews and comments. I treasure each and every one of them.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Hotch jerked in surprise at the unexpected voice and fumbled at the laptop sitting in front of him on the conference table. It took him four tries, but he finally managed to turn off the images that had been playing on the large screen in the room. Turning to his friend, he forced a smile. "Dave. I was...uh...nothing. I wasn't doing nothing. Anything," he corrected himself. Idiot, much, Hotchner?

"Nothing huh? I didn't know you were that close to Agent Sharpe. That was her wedding footage you were looking at, right?" Dave looked amused as he sat himself down on one of the chairs.

Hotch winced inwardly. "She sent me a dvd copy so I thought I'd have a quick look. You know, just to be polite."

"Polite. Sure, sure. So how come you got one and I didn't?" The older man looked at him.

"Maybe she thought I'd just share it with the team," answered Hotch smoothly. His legal training and negotiation skills hadn't been for nothing. "I thought the rest of you had gone out for a drink."

"We did, then we felt bad that you had to stay back, so we came back bearing alcohol."

"What – " We? Hotch's mouth fell open when Morgan traipsed in with a six pack of Blue Moon in each hand.

"What're we watching?" He put the beers down on the table and grabbed himself one before sinking down on the chair opposite Hotch. "Comedy, horror, action?"

Dave answered. "Actually, it's a chick flick about a wedding where boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk as skunks, spend the night together, then wake up with no memory of who the other person is."

Morgan groaned. "No way! That's gotta be one of the worse movie plots ever. What happens next? Wait, don't tell me. She gets pregnant and has to track her baby daddy down, working backwards, like the Hangover."

Hotch choked on a breath, coughing. "For God's sake! We are not watching a movie tonight. And we're not having drinks at work." He was going to kill Dave. Tonight. Right after he got rid of Morgan. He eyed the beer bottles. They could work as a weapon. Alcohol can kill you.

"You did use protection, right?" The dark-eyed devil gave him a concerned look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hotch kept his tone flat. He glared at Dave.

"What's going on?" Morgan looked puzzled. "Are we talking about Hotch's sex life now?"

"Yes."

"NO!" yelled Hotch over Dave's affirmative answer.

Morgan grinned, taking a swig of his beer. "I'd much rather talk about your sex life than some stupid movie plot."

Dave laughed. "The movie plot is Hotch's sex life."

"Dave, shut the hell up before I punch your lights out." The Unit Chief gave his friend a narrowed eyed glare, his tone menacing.

"Wait, what? You don't mean..." Morgan's eyes widened. "Hotch, no way, man. You slept with someone at Gina's wedding and you don't remember who it was? Whoa."

The senior profiler chuckled. "I know, right? Apparently, Hotch is mortal."

Morgan shook his head in amazement. "I don't know whether to be more surprised by the fact that Hotch drank so much he blacked out or that he had sex with a stranger. Scratch that, I'm actually amazed he had sex, full stop."

By this stage, Hotch was lying back in his seat, eyes shut tightly. He was imagining himself curled up in the corner, hands pressed to his ears and humming so he couldn't hear the conversation. Unfortunately, he couldn't even do that because he was completely sane and wasn't some four-year-old. He also couldn't use insanity as an excuse to shoot two members of his team. It was a damn shame.

"Hey, nice work, Hotch." Morgan grinned. "One more and you'll draw even with Reid."

Dave laughed. "See? I told you Reid's had more partners than you."

"Will the both of you SHUT THE HELL UP!" Hotch shouted, banging his hands on the laptop. "We are not discussing my personal life or about that night!"

His team-mates stared at him in surprise. Hotch was so worked up he didn't even notice that the wedding dvd was playing again. He waited for someone to say something. No one did.

Finally. He'd manage to shut them up. He was about to ask them to leave him alone when Dave spoke.

"How about her?"

He opened his mouth to give a cutting answer but glanced at the screen. To his own surprise he answered truthfully. "No, she wasn't a blonde."

"That redhead's cute. And she's staring at you, look," said Morgan.

"She was a brunette."

"For real? How do you know?" Morgan again.

Hotch shot him a look.

The other agent's mouth parted. He smiled sheepishly. "Oh."

The Unit Chief heard something that sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter being suppressed. He ignored Dave.

"Do you remember what she was wearing?" asked Dave.

"I think it was a light coloured gown. With crystals or beading or something." Hotch reached down and picked up the high-heeled sandal. "And she was also wearing this." He placed it on the conference table.

The three men stared at the foot attire.

"Damn, that's well sexy," volunteered Morgan. "I would've slept with her too if I'd seen her in that."

"Don't think Aaron's into threesomes," profiled Dave. "At least not the MMF ones. Maybe he'd do MFF."

"What the fuck? Dave!" Hotch glared at the other two males. "Not helpful!"

"Sorry. Where were we? Sexy sandal wearing brunette." Dave looked back at the screen. "Her?"

"That's Gina's mother, Dave." Hotch wondered if he should shoot himself between the eyes now to save himself the anguish of the next few minutes.

"Really?" His colleague sounded genuinely surprised. "Oh, yes. She's pretty shapely from the back. And young looking. Sorry."

"That one?" Morgan pointed to an attractive brunette in the corner of the screen.

"No."

"How do you know for sure? I thought you didn't remember her face?"

"I remember her..." Hotch's voice trailed off.

Morgan lifted an eyebrow. "Her..."

"Uh..." Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Ass? Boobs? Vajayjay?" asked Morgan helpfully.

Dave took pity on Hotch. "I think what Hotch wants to say but can't is breasts. He remembers her breasts."

Yep, he should've shot himself while he had had the chance, thought Hotch.

"Damn, Hotch. You couldn't have gone for a blonde or a redhead? Gina's like half Greek. There must be at least fifty brunettes there with generous bust lines. Eighty if you're into the older ladeez, like Rossi here."

"Hey! Don't you know women are like fine wine? The older they are, the better they taste." Dave winked at Morgan and they both laughed.

Oh God. Suicide or homicide? Both were pretty tempting right about now. Unfortunately, little did he know it, but things were about to get worse.

"Hey guys, what are we watching?" Reid strolled into the room, right on cue.

Really? Really? What the hell did I do to deserve this?

"Well, Hotch slept with some babe in drop dead sexy sandals, exhibit A here, and can't remember who it is. Rossi and I are trying to help him figure it out."

"At Gina's wedding?" Reid frowned as he took one of the seats. "You blacked out?"

"I think it was more of a brown out. He remembers some things." Dave's tone was mild but Hotch glared at him nonetheless.

"What things?" asked the doctor, looking curious.

"NC-17 things. And trust me, there was a lot of them. I was next door," explained Dave.

"You didn't hear anything that could help us uncover her identity?"

Hotch froze at Reid's question. Why hadn't he thought to ask his friend that?

"There is one thing," Dave said slowly. "She liked being spanked. As in she really liked being spanked."

Awkward silence reigned while Hotch died quietly inside. Morgan finally spoke. "Well, I haven't seen anyone on the footage with a 'Spank Me, Daddy' tattoo on her forehead. Not helpful, but thanks Rossi. One more thing. I know I've said it before but it bears repeating. Nice work, Hotch." He nodded approvingly.

Reid spoke. "So I know this sounds kind of weird and coincidental, but I know someone else who had the same experience that night."

Dave eyebrows rose. "What, someone else liked being spanked?"

"What? No! I mean, I don't know! I'm referring to the brown outs." Reid looked exasperated. And nervous.

What the hell? "Reid, for the love of God, WHO WAS IT?" shouted Hotch, whose control had just gone beyond breaking point. Again.

"It was – "

Reid didn't get to finish his sentence because at that precise moment Garcia called out. "Hello gentlemen! What are you all doing here at this hour on a Friday night?" She walked into the room, then stopped short, looking quizzically at them. "And what are you doing with Emily's Louboutin sandal?"

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