A/N: a one-shot, bit of dark fluff in response to MoonRaven2's request on the Bonus Prompt #7 Thread: a Watchmen/CM crossover! There's a bit of camp, but I did my best not to change our BAU friends even as I gave them new secret identities. Reviews and reflections encouraged!
Reid's journal, May 7, 2008. Sometimes I wonder how long I can keep this all secret from my colleagues. I mean, I don't really wonder this; I know that unless I decide to reveal the truth, I am perfectly capable of concealing my, well, activities from the people I am closest to. Unless I suffer some drastic change in my mental capacities. After all, Gideon never suspected a thing, at least not that he indicated to me. But still I feel substantial psychological pressure to reveal what I am really doing when I go "home" from work. Maybe because we have to trust each other so much, and I sense it undermines that trust to keep the things I really care about from them.
Garcia logged out and locked her system, securing her digital fortress against intruders, benign and . . .not. She pushed the rolling chair back, got up, and stretched her arms over her head, listening for the slight cracking of her joints as she released some of the tension of the day.
The office was dim. Heck, the whole building was dim - it was 11:45pm, and almost everyone had retired for the evening. She'd stayed later than normal; Mr. - Agent - Hotchner, Hotch (yes, she thought of him with a title first, even in the privacy of her own brain) had asked her to complete a "special project" for him, compiling internet activity across a wide range of the BAU's old cases, and she was darned well going to finish it tonight and leave it on his desk so he would have it first thing tomorrow. She wanted deeply to merit his approval and admiration. Of the members of her team, he was the one she often felt she knew least. Not that it affected how much she cared for him.
She had sent him a synopsis on email, of course, using the code names he had requested and keeping details vague (although really, she thought, he should have had more faith in her than that - if she wanted to send an email that no one could read, well, she certainly could do it!), but the real meat and bones of the project had been printed out just seconds before. She shuffled the stack into a neat, white rectangle and walked out of her office.
As she passed through the dark bullpen, she heard a custodian vacuuming down the hall. The vacuum sounded old, and as though it might be falling apart. She noticed that Hotchner's light was still on. She swallowed.
Her steps grew somewhat more hesitant, but she kept going. Stopping in front of the door she knocked lightly. "Sir?" There was a long silence.
"Sir? It's Garcia, I have -" a quick glance to be sure no-one was listening "- I have the report you asked for, sir. On those cases."
No response.
Screwing up her face in preparatory apology, Garcia turned the knob and opened the door.
SSA Hotchner's office stood empty, in its usual state of tidiness. No one was there. Garcia swallowed again. It wasn't like Hotchner - or any of them - to leave a light on when they had left for the evening. Something like military efficiency pervaded the BAU, and even Reid turned off all his electronics when he left, almost every time.
Relax, she reassured herself. You can't get frightened of a silly desk lamp! She placed the stack of white papers on Hotchner's desk and started to leave. Then she paused, reconsidered. If his office was unlocked, then anyone could wander in here and find the paperwork. She knew he wanted to keep this one quiet. She bit her lip, the desire to impress her boss warring with the need for discretion.
Garcia walked back over to the desk, and folded the stack in two. She slid the thinner rectangle underneath Hotchner's keyboard, and, spying a roll of tape, tore off two pieces and used them to secure the printouts to the underside. There. She brushed her hands cheerfully, satisfied.
She bent over to turn off the lamp before leaving, and noticed the bottom left drawer was slightly ajar. That was odd. She couldn't resist a quick peek. Disappointingly, it was just a dark, crumpled fabric - probably an old gym shirt, or a dirty suit jacket. It was too bad no one left her any easy clues about their secrets! She smiled: she was Garcia. If anyone, even SSA Hotchner, was hiding something, she knew she could figure it out. If she wanted to.
Garcia was so satisfied with herself as she walked away that she failed to hear small sounds from Hotchner's office as her heels clicked down the corridor to the elevator.
Arriving in the parking lot, Penelope looked around furtively before reaching into her handbag for her keys. She knew they were in there, somewhere. It was just that, in a bag as voluminous as hers, something was always stuck under, or inside of something else, which in turn was beneath a third thing. . . she sighed, set the bag down on the hood, and began lifting objects out.
A pencil case with a cartoon animal on it. Literally, like the kind a third grader might carry. (Pens could come uncapped inside of purses, you know.) A thick paperback. A crumpled brown paper sack: "kin Do" was visible on the side. Cosmetics. Something fluffy. More cosmetics. A large, folded mass of cloth. And then, a jingle.
"Ah-hah!" she crowed, shaking her keys victoriously. After unlocking the car, she hurriedly began to return her belongings to the giant handbag. She put everything in except the cloth. She stared at it for a moment, and sighed.
"Well," she thought out loud, "as it's already been rescued from the depths. . ." she looked around again. The parking lot was deserted, and the only lights stood in the far corner. There wasn't any tall foliage; as far as she could see, she was alone. The building was dark; not even the custodian had turned the lights back on as he went about his rounds. She sighed a little louder, and then giggled. And then, Penelope Garcia hunkered down next to her car and began to change.
It was midnight.
((((()))))