Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.
~ written for SunnyInOregon ~
"Seriously, babygirl, next time you stay at home!" Derek Morgan wasn't exactly annoyed, how could he be with his Penelope, especially after the heartbreaking support group ordeal she had gone through only recently, but he was a bit put out.
"Derek, I'm sorry, but they were all so perfect…" Penelope tried a tentative "forgive me"-smile. Since she was wearing a coat and hat that vaguely resembled a purple Santa costume, toned down only just enough not to earn her a heart-to-heart talk with Hotch about FBI dress code, how could he not forgive her?
"Where's the tree?" Prentiss and JJ came walking back from the coffee machine. "Didn't you say you'd get us one this afternoon?"
"A big tree that will make the financial department's look like a bonsai? Freshly cut down from the spot by the lake? Felled by Derek Morgan himself?" JJ and Emily flexed their forearms in mock bodybuilding positions.
"No tree…", Derek grumbled.
"It was all my fault!", Penelope quickly interjected. "I just felt so sorry for them – you know, standing there, in the freshly fallen snow, enjoying the smell of the crystal clear air, the birds and squirrels that hop around in their branches… and then out of the blue someone shows up and hacks them down with an axe…"
"I told you, Garcia, that part of the forest by the lake was especially cultivated for Christmas. The trees are all going to be felled." Morgan suppressed an exasperated sigh. He knew his babygirl was a very empathic person, that's what he liked about her so much, but sometimes this particular character trait could get in the way.
"You were feeling sorry for the trees?" Hotch came walking downstairs into the bullpen where Prentiss handed him a cup of coffee. His surprised smile froze a little when he spotted the mini marshmallows floating in his beverage.
"Marshmallows?", said his frowning eyebrows.
"Try it" , said the twinkle in Prentiss' eyes.
"Actually anthropomorphism is a fairly common element in Christmas tradition." Reid looked up from his computer. "There's this story by Hans Christian Andersen, "The Fir Tree", Far down in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air made a sweet resting-place grew a pretty little fir-tree…"
"Spence!" JJ had recently read the story to Henry and had changed the ending because it had been just too heartbreaking for her little son to hear.
"Maybe we should think about getting a plastic tree this year", Hotch suggested, spooning up the rest of his coffee marshmallow mix. Emily had stirred the sweets into the beverage at just the right moment – they had melted and made the liquid thicker and richer.
"Although, from an emotional standpoint, this seems to be the easiest solution, it is definitely not the most environmental friendly one", Reid chimed in. "Fake trees lead to the emission of more than double the greenhouse gases of a natural one, especially during manufacturing and transportation, but also from the materials used – PVC, steel, sometimes even lead. We would have to keep the tree for 20 years to balance out the 17.8 lbs of CO2 it caused to be emitted, compared to 6.8 lbs for a natural tree."
"What about a potted one?", JJ suggested.
"Strauss issued a memo this morning, reminding every department that potted Christmas trees violate building security regulations." Hotch seemed unsure what to do with his empty coffee cup. Then he saw that Emily's was empty, too, and took it from her to wash them both out in the tea kitchen's sink.
"Well maybe we don't really need a Christmas tree in the office – with a little luck we won't be here anyway, will we?" JJ's attempt to sound extra cheerful was a little too obvious.
"Speaking of… to make sure everybody gets some well-deserved time off during the holidays, there are these … documents … we really need to discuss… Dave, your presence is really not needed for that paperwork, if you want to you can call it a day…"
Only now, as Hotch addressed his friend and co-worker, Penelope became aware that David Rossi was in the bullpen, too. He was sitting at a desk, reading a file. She, and not only she, felt painfully reminded of the day he had been doing research on ALS.
"I'll be gone in a minute, Hotch", Rossi replied, not lifting his eyes off the file.
For a second the team members were hesitant to leave him sitting like that, but the elder profiler's body language made it very clear that he preferred to be left alone. Hotch indicated with a nod that he was expecting everyone in the conference room and they all filed upstairs.
All except Garcia, that is. She was still a little crestfallen at the turmoil she had caused and let herself fall behind. "It's just that…this sounds so silly… but the unsuspecting trees, being hacked down by a stranger… it reminded me of… of victims falling prey to an unsub…" Garcia's voice had grown very quiet as she said that and in the silence that followed her words you could have heard a pin drop. Slowly she started up the stairs to join the others in the conference room.
"Well, I can relate to that."
Garcia stopped and turned around. Rossi, still sitting at that desk, was looking directly at her, locking eyes with her, sad smile on his face.
"I thought after we solved the Galen case you changed your opinion about Christmas trees", Garcia said carefully.
"About Christmas trees, yes. About the act of cutting them down, no." Rossi closed the file he had been reading and nodded in the direction of the conference room. "Paperwork?"
Garcia turned very red very quickly. "Yes, yes, absolutely boring paperwork, nothing interesting, not at all, you can go home, no need to worry about it…"
"They're trying to figure out how to make this Christmas a cheerful experience for me, aren't they?"
Now Penelope looked even more crestfallen. "You so deserve a joyful evening."
"And I will have that. With Mudgie and a good glass of Scotch. At my mansion. Alone."
Penelope decided it was not a good moment to inform him that the team's plans for Rossi's Christmas included everything BUT leaving him alone. She tried for a diversion. "What file are you reading?"
"Old case, nothing recent." He weighed it in his hand, as if unsure whether to tell her more or not.
"Unsolved?" Rossi looked so sad, Garcia just knew there was more to this old file.
"Yes and no." He was still weighing the folder in his hand.
Garcia walked over to him, pulled up a chair and sat down. "Why don't you tell me about it?"