Summary: Morgan finds out that Hotch supposedly has a tattoo, but doesn't believe it.
Disclaimer: They don't belong to Patch. When she was done playing, she had to give them back *sob*.
Archive: Do as ye will.
Warnings: No CM spoilers, but a few mild movie ones.
Notes: Written for the Summer Of CM Fic-a-thon. This story is for
P.S. Ta v muchly to my beta (though she is of the LJ-less type and will likely not see this).
"I mean, yeah, there's a certain saccharine quality to it, but when you consider the detail in the film-making, especially by the standards of the 1960s -"
"Spence, shhh!" JJ pleaded, staring up at him from her spot on the floor. Reid smiled apologetically and settled back into his armchair.
Morgan rolled his eyes. Once again it was movie night at Garcia's, and this time Reid, JJ and Emily had joined them. Unfortunately the extra numbers meant he was overwhelmingly out-voted when choosing the evening's entertainment. He watched as a celluloid Julie Andrews strode across the screen, her guitar outstretched to Christopher Plummer. "The vote is unanimous. You, Captain."
"What's the big deal?" he asked. "It's not like you haven't seen it a million -"
"Hey!" Garcia brandished her index finger, all the while intent on the screen. "Unless you plan on ageing ten years, putting on a grey suit and gaining a British accent, you do not talk during this scene!"
Morgan grinned and shook his head, watching as the others sat, enraptured by "Edelweiss", Garcia humming along softly. When it was over, JJ sighed dreamily and leaned her head on Garcia's knee. "God, I love him."
"Tell me about it," Emily nodded, taking a sip of hot chocolate.
"You know, that's not actually Plummer singing - the producers felt his voice wasn't strong enough to complement Julie Andrews', so a guy named Bill Lee was dubbed in," Reid remarked.
"Reid, you're messing with my world view here," Emily said, throwing a kernel of popcorn at him.
Morgan turned to her. "I don't know Em, I just don't see it. I mean, these three, yeah," he said, gesturing at Garcia, Reid, and JJ, "but you? I'd have picked you as more of a Bruce-Willis-guns-and-explosions type of girl."
She shrugged. "What can I say? I'm an old romantic at heart. I guess everyone has their unlikely little secrets - kind of like your Vonnegut obsession, or Hotch's tattoo."
Morgan raised his eyebrow at her. "What are you talking about? Hotch doesn't have a tattoo."
Emily nodded and passed the popcorn bowl to Garcia. "Sure he does. Had it since college, I think."
Morgan scoffed. "Please. Next you'll be telling me Gideon has a troll doll collection."
"You know, I've heard that rumour," Garcia added, adjusting her pink and green rose hairclips. "About Hotch," she clarified, at Morgan's look. "I wonder what it is?"
JJ pulled the blue polar fleece blanket up over her knees. "I heard it was some kind of sport team logo."
Reid shook his head. "For Hotch? No, that's far too frivolous for him. I know a guy in Violent Crimes who used to work with Hotch before he joined the BAU - he said its a Caribbean tribal design, he got it on vacation."
"No way, too boring," Garcia contested. "You just know Hotch has a bad-boy side to him. I bet it's a huge, intricate Chinese dragon, or one of those busty, demonic sirens with an orgasmic look on her face." Reid gave her a doubtful look and Garcia giggled. "Okay, maybe not. But if it is a tribal design, my money's on one of those Celtic knot type things. Complicated suits him."
"Too girly," Emily stated, putting her feet on the ottoman in front of her. "I think it'd be some kind of animal," she decided as Lester, Garcia's grey-and-white cat jumped into her lap.
"You really see Hotch as the kitty-cat type?" Morgan asked as Emily scratched Lester's ears.
Emily glanced at him slyly. "Maybe it's a lion."
"Don't even go there," he replied, fixing her with a stern look. Garcia laughed again as Emily gave him a cheeky grin.
Morgan pointed to the TV. "You're missing the movie."
"Dammit, we missed the Laendler!" Garcia exclaimed, picking up the remote.
For the next hour Morgan tried to pay attention as the troupe of impossibly cute children overacted their way through every scene and Julie warbled verse after verse of schmaltzy tunes. But by the time the nazis realised thier spark-plugs were missing, Morgan's curiosity was killing him. He shifted slightly next to Garcia, trying to extract the cell phone from his pocket.
"What are you doing?" she asked as the credits appeared on the screen.
"Calling our fearless leader," he told her, scrolling through the numbers in the address book. "Put this speculation to bed once and for all."
JJ reached up and took the phone off him. "You can't call him now, it's his day off! Besides, it's late, the phone will wake the baby."
Morgan leaned down and tugged on her hair playfully. "I knew it, you're playing me. There's no way Hotch has a tattoo!"
"Morgan, think about it," Reid said, taking his glasses off and polishing them on his sweater. "We were all at that barbeque he and Haley threw last month - even when he took Jack in the pool, he still kept his shirt on. Why else would he do that?"
Morgan stretched and threw an arm over Garcia's shoulder. "Maybe he didn't want to burn. Or maybe his back was all scratched up - I bet Haley can be a hellcat when she wants to be."
"Oh, just not the way I wanted to picture my supervisor!" JJ exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut as Emily laughed. "I think we need another movie."
Morgan finished his coffee as Reid went to the DVD player, exchanging The Sound Of Music for Stigmata. He did his best to put all thoughts of Hotch and his possible skin adornments aside. It wasn't as difficult this time - Patricia Arquette was kind of a honey, and there was no singing.
Slowly he became absorbed in the movie, or at least, the snatches of dialogue he managed to catch in between Emily and JJ's debate over whether Gabriel Byrne was more or less attractive than Christopher Plummer, and Reid's near-constant stream of factoids about St Francis of Assisi and Therese Neumann. Garcia had settled in next to him and resolutely hid her face against his chest during the scary scenes. On screen, Patricia, pale faced with her eyes rolled back in her head, shuffled across the wall muttering "Il messegiano no importante." Morgan chuckled softly and gave Garcia a squeeze, but couldn't help his thoughts returning to Hotch. Maybe it was a religious symbol, a crucafix or something? After all, his family was one of those deep-South, old money types. Then again, Hotch didn't strike him as being particularly religious. No, he definitely wasn't the type to put his faith in any kind of higher power - at least, nothing higher than a badge, a gun, and a sharp glare.
"How's your faith these days, Father? HOW'S YOUR FAITH THESE DAYS?!?!"
Garcia winced and gripped Morgan's shirt, yelping in fright as Lester poked her with his claw. Morgan rubbed her shoulder gently as she picked up the cat and kissed its head, his other hand surreptitiously reaching for the cell phone. It was no good - he had to know.
He caught Reid's eye as he hit "send" on the text message he had just written: Heard you got ink. True?
Reid smiled, and again, Morgan was convinced they were having him on. There was no way Hotch would ever get a tattoo. No way.
His cell phone beeped and the screen glowed green. Emily grinned at him. "Well? What'd he say?"
Morgan stared at the message and tried not to laugh.
Absolutely. I carry a pen everywhere.