Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. I was trying to figure out a way to pull the story back together, and then it came to me...

Enjoy!

JJ sank into her lounge chair and closed her eyes. She had thought that today would be a nice, relaxing time for the team to chill out. She hadn't at all expected the violent games, colorful costumes, or the sudden insanity. Oh, well, at least the boys come home soon.

The sun was sinking in the sky. JJ frowned. It had to be past four-thirty already. The boys were due to be home by now. This was slightly worrying. Will could be irresponsible sometimes, and Kevin… well, he was just kind of a quirky guy to begin with. Was there some sort of problem?

JJ became aware that Prentiss was talking. She opened one eye and turned toward Prentiss, hoping that she hadn't zoned out of a conversation.

No need to worry; Prentiss was just harassing Morgan again.

JJ settled back into her chair. She laid her arm over her eyes so that she couldn't see the annoyingly bright summer sun through her eyelids. JJ sighed and tried to doze off.

Morgan sat slumped on the edge of his chair, irritated with Prentiss again. Usually, he was a worthy opponent in their little good-natured rivalry, but not today. Today, he was exhausted, humiliated, and all-around confused.

Prentiss poked him in the nose with her green noodle. "You still alive?"

Morgan batted the noodle away. "You won't be in a second," he grumbled.

"Ooh, was that a challenge?" She whacked him soundly across the head.

Morgan groaned and stood up. His muscles had never ached like this, not ever. Standing now, he was taller than her. Morgan tried to look intimidating.

Prentiss would have none of it. "Pink is really your color, isn't it?" she taunted.

Morgan sighed. He gave up. For Pete's sake, did this woman never get tired? "Prentiss. Emily."

"What?" she pouted.

"How are you not, like, collapsed in a heap or something?" Morgan ran a hand over his head.

Prentiss tipped her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"You've done more running around, more tackling, more fighting than anybody else here today! You've put in a good bit of the evil laughter around here, too. You should be done for. Well, I've done my share of all that today. I'm tired, do you understand? I'm exhausted, is what I'm trying to get across to you, okay?" Morgan pleaded with her.

Prentiss pondered all of that for a moment. Then she smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, either. It was the kind of smile that made you wonder if you should run away or play dead.

Morgan waited for a reply. He suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"So, you're tired?" Prentiss checked.

"Yes, I am tired," Morgan clarified.

"Tired and weak?" She smiled some more.

"Uh… yeah?" Morgan suddenly regretted answering that question.

Prentiss giggled. "Easier prey for me, then!"

She attacked him with the green noodle.

Morgan threw his hands over his head. "Not fair, Goddamnit!"

Prentiss laughed. Really, really evilly.

Speaking of evil laughter, Garcia was off at the other end of the yard, practicing hers.

"Yee-hee-hee!" Hm… too old-school. She had used that laugh way too much today, anyway.

"Hrrrrah-snuff-ha-ha!" It was original, but a little too much work.

"Snork-snuffle-periwinkle!" Better. Garcia giggled and clapped her hands. She hopped from one foot to the other, trying out this new laugh over and over. "Snork-snuffle-periwinkle! Snork-snuffle-periwinkle!"

It was simply perfect! But was it complicated enough?

Garcia sank into silent thought. What if somebody tried to steal her awesome new laugh? She would have to make it more complex.

Garcia punched a fist into the air and did her little dance again. She could do it!

"What exactly is she doing?" Walden muttered to Hotch. He and Thomas had 'decided' (been coerced by Garcia) to stay and share a snack. Walden pointed at Garcia to emphasize his question.

Hotch sighed, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's… just… a thing she does."

"Uh-huh." Walden crammed a fistful of goldfish crackers into his mouth. Those things were addicting! He grabbed some more out of the plastic bowl. He looked around, making sure that nobody saw him consuming large amounts of kid food, not even the crazy old guy in the flower garden.

Rossi sat among the zinnias and marigolds, allowing Betsie to graze. "You did good today, girl," he murmured. Rossi patted Betsie on the head. "We almost escaped good and proper. We would have, too, if it wasn't for those darn authorities. But, hey, we're not being attacked anymore, and the kid is okay. Success! Right, Betsie?" Rossi rambled. He made a whinnying sound as Betsie's reply.

"Oh, hush, Betsie. It wasn't your fault." Rossi petted her plastic mane.

'Betsie' whinnied, discontented.

"How about if I give you an extra apple for supper?" Rossi bribed.

'Betsie' made a purring sound.

"There, see? We're all okay," Rossi said. "All okay," he repeated.

Betsie snuffled and nuzzled his hand.

"I said you'll get an extra apple for supper. I don't have any now." Rossi sighed.

Betsie grumbled something and continued to graze on a flower, which was what unicorns ate.

Thomas sat across from Reid on the concrete, munching on the snacks that JJ had provided while Reid hogged the Chex Mix.

Thomas pointed at Rossi. "Is he okay?"

Reid looked up from his Chex Mix. He followed the direction of Thomas' finger until he saw Rossi. Reid swallowed his mouthful of Chex Mix. "I'm not too worried."

"He's talking to a plastic floatie unicorn," Thomas pointed out.

Reid shrugged.

"And pretending it's talking back to him," Thomas added. "And now he's feeding it flowers. No, now he just ate a flower."

"He's always been a little weird." Reid dove back into his Chex Mix.

Thomas shook his head. These FBI agents were a bunch of weirdos.

Reid was in heaven. He had a new philosophy, too.

Life is a bowl of Chex Mix.

Meanwhile, across the street, Lizzie Porter peered out her front window. She had set up a timeline in her head.

It was almost five in the afternoon, now.

The screams had started shortly after two-thirty. She had reported the sound at just a little before three.

The police had arrived at four. They had not come out yet.

The screams had stopped a few minutes later.

Ten minutes ago, at quarter to five, the van that was usually parked in Jenny's driveway returned to the house, but parked on the street, behind the cop car.

Will and a man Lizzie had never seen before emerged from the car. Little Hector and a boy whom Lizzie had observed over at the house previously but didn't know by name were let out of the back of the car. All four had looked shaken, pale, and tearful.

Had they received devastating news? Lizzie could only speculate.

And now it was five. Six men had entered a house that Lizzie had thought was empty. None had come out.

It all looked very suspicious to Lizzie. She decided that if anything was to be done about the situation, she would have to do it herself.

Lizzie shuffled over to Arthur's cage and gave him a pat. Then she snuggled her feet into a pair of squishy white sneakers and did up the laces with double knots. Double knots were only prudent, given the situation.

Lizzie bent over and reached under the sofa. She grabbed her shotgun and headed for the door. It was up to her to sort this out once and for all.