See disclaimers.

Morgan hated early rollout. Especially on his weekend off.

The call had come in from some irate prosecutor about not having all of the paperwork for a case going to trial next month. It had happened to be a prosecutor Morgan knew, and so his was the first number called.

"Look, I hate to be a pain in the ass," the counselor said apologetically, "but I need those files. His lawyer's trying to get him out of a 730 exam on Tuesday, claiming that he's far too gone from the head injuries from the accident."

"We'll get on it," Morgan promised, gently hanging up as the lawyer continued talking on a tangent. He rolled over in bed a minute, trying to shake the cobwebs form his eyes, and sincerely regretted now going out with the very lovely Lauritia last night. Things had been going well for the two of them, which basically meant getting together for a few laughs and some great dancing…

"Damn," he said shortly, tossing back the covers. Grabbing a quick shower and tossing on his weekend clothes, he headed into the office to try and find the paperwork the prosecutor needed. After two and a half hours, he finally gave up.

Hotch must have it locked up somewhere, he decided. Morgan picked up his phone, about to call him, but then had a better idea.

---

"Hotch! Hotch, I know you're in there!" Morgan called out, pounding on the door with his fist. His actions were drawing some of the neighbors out, all of them staring a little too much at the strange man pounding on the resident FBI agent's door. Morgan could've sworn that one of them, a middle-aged man with a wide girth, had gone into the back for a shotgun.

Oh, come on, Hotch, he said, picking up the phone and dialing again. The phone went straight to voice mail—again. What were you doing last night? Hope it was fun…

Just then Morgan nearly was bowled over by a very tall man racing out of Hotch's door, pulling keys out of a bag and making a beeline for the SUV parked in front.

"What the…" Morgan called out, but all he got in return was the sight of Reid shifting the vehicle into drive and making a NASCAR-worthy start.

"Hotch, what gives?" Morgan called out. "Everything all right?"

"Morgan, shh! You'll wake him up!"

The sight of Penelope Garcia looking up at him from their boss's couch was one thing Morgan thought he'd never, ever see in his lifetime. "Wake who up?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"So sweet. Look over there."

Morgan finally took in the room, and was so stunned he could've been felled with a feather. "Why are JJ and Will sleeping on the loveseat?"

"Same reason Rossi's in the spare bedroom sawing logs and Emily's in the shower."

"What the…?"

Just then the sound of a sharp cry echoed through the house, a tiny pair of lungs wailing as loud as they possibly could.

"That's my angel," Garcia said. "I'll go get him up…"

Morgan stared as he saw the woman head up the stairs, murmuring soft nothings for the baby she so very much adored.

Collapsing in a chair, Morgan was completely dumbstruck. "What the hell happened here?" he said.

"Research," Emily said, walking out of the shower with a towel in her hair. "Lots and lots of research. You missed a good time."

"I was having a perfectly good time until the 7 am phone call," Morgan countered. "That lawyer down in Pensacola…he needs the rest of the paperwork so he can counter a 730 refusal…"

"Oh, the serial drowner with a penchant for car accidents?"

"Yeah."

Emily sighed. "Hotch is still sleeping. Reid and I woke up at the same time, so we flipped for breakfast."

"He lost."

"Going down to the IHOP now for a massive take-out order."

"Emily, can I ask…"

"Why are we all camped out in Hotch's living room?"

"Well…yeah. I mean, I know the economy's bad, but…"

Emily stifled a laugh. "Reid was watching cartoons just after you left. Hiding in a storage closet and having a good time. I happened to walk in on him, and…"

"Cartoons? Emily Prentiss likes cartoons?"

"Old Looney Tunes, I do. We set up in the conference room, and, ah, gained some more watchers."

"Still…how'd you end up here?"

"Well, after two massive orders of Italian and several cartoons, Hotch broke up the party," the woman explained. "And had it moved here. It was pretty late by then, anyway…"

"Late?"

"Like almost ten."

"Wow."

"So we basically collected Will and the baby, ate junk food and profiled cartoons until about five this morning."

Morgan chuffed. "Profiling cartoons?"

"More fun that you think. I'm thinking of doing this again in a couple weeks."

"Doing what in a couple weeks?" a voice said, hauling in three giant take-out labeled IHOP on them. "Oh, hi, Morgan. I didn't know you were here."

"You mean even after you nearly turned me into a lawn ornament?"

"Oh. Was that what I tripped over? Sorry…"

Morgan helped unpack the food, noticing that Reid bought nearly double what everyone would eat. "There were so many choices," he said sheepishly. "So I think I got one of almost everything."

"Hotch'll be eating cold pancakes for a month."

"What's that about cold pancakes?" a voice said, coming down the stairs.

"Hotch, listen…"

"Morgan! When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago. There's this guy in Pensacola…the Harlan case…"

"Trying to get out of the 730?"

"Apparently. Lawyer's claiming accident makes him incapable."

"I'll get it to him on Monday. The hearing's Tuesday, I think…"

"There's pancakes," Reid said, grabbing a giant bottle of syrup.

Hotch took an order from the bag, ones with raspberries and some kind of red sauce on them. "Perfect," he said.

"Ooh, pancakes," another voice said, eagerly grabbing one with blueberry sauce on them. "Great."

"Dr. Reid, you didn't close the IHOP, did you?" Will teased, watching JJ devour the stack of pancakes in front of her.

"They know me down there."

"Got any with whipped cream?"

"Three kinds."

Will took ones with the cream and apples on top.

"Ooooh, look, Henry!" Garcia cooed, walking down with the baby in question. "Pancakes…"

"Here, I'll take him," JJ said. "He's probably hungry…"

"Did someone say pancakes?"

"Rossi, there's strawberry ones in the car. I'll go get them…"

"You read my mind."

"I'm getting in the shower," Hotch said, clearing his space at the table for Morgan to sit down. "Have some—looks like Reid got more than enough…"

Morgan picked some cinnamon ones and began pouring syrup on them. "So, profiling cartoons?" he said idly, content to take in the look on his friends' and colleagues' faces.

"Yeah. It was fun," Garcia said.

"Very educational," Will seconded.

"And we learned something about ourselves too," Emily said. "I'm so going to rock this lecture next week."

Reid beamed. Who would've thought watching cartoons could be such an experience? he thought to himself as he tucked into a stack of plain buttermilk pancakes.

So that's it. The end. For all of you fans out there, never fear--I am planning a sequel as we speak. I must say, though, that this series has become my most popular to date on this site (I didn't think anything could beat "Stolen"!) and I've had loads of fun writing it.

If there are any 'cartoon requests' for the next series, please send me a PM and I'll see if I can add it to the list.