A/N: At last! An update! One with plot advancement! Whoo! Enjoy. Reviews kick ass.

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Sometimes, the BAU made Hotch want to die, just a little. He really tried not to listen. He always regretted it. But he did now. He lost control.

"You'd run faster than a French border patrolman with a coupon for free cigarettes and track shoes!"

Goddamnit. This was why Hotch avoided 7-11's. Morgan took a long sip of his enormous Slurpee.

Reid was looking nervously at the box of doughnuts they had purchased.

"These doughnuts are going to kill us." He quietly stated.

Morgan sighed.

"No, they won't."

"I'm pretty sure these have some sores. They have herpes!"

"Doughnuts cannot get herpes, Reid."

"How do you know? Can you prove that these doughnuts don't have herpes? We got these at 7-11! 7-11! People have probably had sex with these doughnuts!"

"Reid, calm down."

"Cats, Morgan! Cats can get herpes! Why not doughnuts?"

"Cats and doughnuts have nothing in common."

Hotch turned up the radio. They were on the highway, it was way too easy right now to pull into oncoming traffic.

Shortly after, Hotch looked in the rearview mirror, and was pretty much horrified to see Morgan trying to force-feed Reid one of the herpes doughnuts.

"Come on, Reid! Let's find out if they have herpes!"

"No! Damnit, Morgan, just because you have accepted the inevitability of contracting an STD doesn't mean I have to!"

"Don't you want to hit this?"

"Kind of, but it has herpes!"

Hotch looked to Rossi in the passenger seat to reconcile the situation, but he seemed to be in a sugar coma, slumped over in the seat with his hand still clutching the Slurpee. Hotch suddenly regretted leaving Prentiss at the 7-11. Okay, not really.

"Morgan, get that doughnut away from Reid's mouth!" Hotch finally intervened.

"That's what she said!"

"Sick burn, Morgan!"

"I know right!"

Hotch knew they had some Benadryl in this car, somewhere. He found it after a little looking around.

"Man, my allergies are acting up. Anyone else want some Benadryl?"

Morgan and Reid accepted the offer, and 15 minutes later, they were out like a light. Ah, Benadryl: The 9 dollar babysitter. Hotch congratulated himself for building up immunity to antihistamines.

Just when Hotch thought he was out of the woods and about to enjoy a nice, quiet car ride, Rossi began unconsciously mumbling.

"No! Please, no! House is supposed to be asexual! Who the fuck is this whore? Dear god, why? Where is David Shore? Why isn't he doing anything? He-he's just standing there! Honestly, I'd take Cameron over this bitch. But we all know House/Wilson is where it's at. Man, Hugh Laurie. I'd plow that 'till next July."

Hotch sighed.

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This case was now officially boring as hell. The UnSub hadn't killed anyone in three weeks. The team couldn't go home, however, until it was fully closed. Damn bureaucratic technicality. But Hotch had come upon an exotic new fact from this experience: There is nothing to do in Colorado. Nothing. To illustrate the lack of activities in the state, the team had recently set up a craft area. This was why Hotch had a rhinestone unicorn on the back of his blazer. Morgan and his fucking sense of humor.

"Guys! Guys!"

Everyone looked up to see Danny excitedly waddling down the hall, waving a manila folder in the air.

"What is it, Danny?"

"It's trouble, times three."

"Three?!" Reid incredulously exclaimed.

There was a moment of silence.

"Uh, yeah," Danny said, less enthusiastically than earlier, "Three more victims."

"And they were all found in the same area?" Hotch asked.

"Within a mile of each other,"

"He changed the MO." Morgan said, keeping his eyes on the page.

"Yeah. Instead of stapling into their arteries, these were all strangled."

"Strangling indicates a preexisting relationship. It's a more personal way of killing; less calculating."

"Cool story, Reid."

"What could have changed?" Prentiss said.

"Something in his personal life. Divorce, job loss, death of a close relative," Hotch recited.

"They're all wearing the same outfit." Morgan observed.

Everyone's heads dropped in unison to the pictures before them. Indeed, all the victims were wearing cardigan sweaters and beige dress shirts and thin ties. Hotch slowly looked over the pictures. These were some seriously geeky clothes. Almost like…

"Reid," Hotch definitively said.

There was a very pregnant silence.

"If no one else is gonna say it," Morgan finally said, "I will. Reid?"

Reid looked up, a concerned look on his face.

"SUCKS TO BE YOU!" Morgan chirped, "I know it's not the best time for tom foolery, but I find it worth the trouble."

Hotch sighed.