A/N: Okay; I lied. Honestly? I got tired of watching CM reruns on Netflix. Seasons 3-9 only.
And I know I did this idea before. But this family has grown and changed. Why can't the story?
All rights to the Criminal Minds characters belong to Mark Gordon Studios, CBS and ABC Studios.
I'm sparing you all the rant. You've heard it enough.
Chapter 1
Sandy Jareau drove down the quiet Beaver County Pennsylvania county road, coming back from town with a few groceries in the backseat. She smiled at the white dusting of snow across the farm fields, humming along with Christmas carols playing on the radio. She pulled her vehicle into the left lane of on-coming traffic and opened her mailbox across from the farmhouse driveway. She pulled out the mail, dumped it in the passenger seat of her vehicle, backed up a bit on the road and turned into the driveway.
In Chicago, with wind blowing and snow flying, Fran Morgan raced to the entrance of her apartment building to get out of the cold. After nearly thirty years of working at Chicago General Hospital as an RN, she finally had a weekly day shift. Other than major emergencies, she had weekends off. She quickly put her key in the front door to open the deadbolt lock and went into the entry way, reset the deadbolt and smiled. Thank you for the heater she thought in the small area, pulling off a glove to find another key on her chain. She found the key and opened her mailbox, pulling the contents out.
Putting in the code for the second security door which buzzed open, she made her way up to her second floor apartment. I love you my children, she thought. But this is your dad's and my home. I'll put up with the security for this neighborhood she smiled, unlocking her apartment door and its deadbolt as well.
Fran took off her coat, hung it on the coat hook and tossed the mail on the table along with her purse. She moved to her bedroom to change her clothes from her nursing uniform into her warm, comfy clothes for the evening. Digging through her laundry hamper, she found two other sets she had worn during the week and got them in the apartment style washer. Derek had worked with the building management to get her that so she no longer had to go the building's dingy basement to do laundry.
Sandy started her dinner prep, making a scaled down version of Cait Hotchner's chicken tetrazzini recipe. Cait, Maggie and Fran, a couple of Thanksgivings ago, had helped her do that. It was still a lot for a single woman. Sandy smiled at the thought of the leftovers she would have for the next couple of weeks.
In Chicago, having made the same recipe the previous Sunday, Fran pulled out the Tupperware from her fridge of the same portion of the dish to let it warm a bit before putting it into the microwave. She looked through her mail, weeding out the advertisements and multiple envelopes of charities begging for a contribution.
"I make one damn contribution and now I get all this crap," Sandy muttered to herself, going through her mail. "More for the recycling bin." She then saw the envelope. She set it aside with a smile, putting the tetrazzini in to bake.
Fran smiled at the same envelope. "That's to read during dinner," she said. Blanche, her Calico cat twitched her tail in agreement with a meow, jumping up on the table for some attention. Fran rubbed her head, heading for the laundry closet to put the load into the dryer.
Bill Reid walked into his home in the Las Vegas suburb he lived in. "Diana? You here?"
Diana came into the kitchen area. She looked at him. Bill was holding his briefcase along with a bunch of mail in his left hand. His right hand was behind his back.
Diana immediately noticed the mail. "With the meds, you know how I still feel about the USPS?"
Bill looked at her. "Yes I do." He smiled at her and pulled his other arm out from behind his back to show Diana a single envelope.
Diana smiled. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Diana, the USPS can't lie on return addresses," he smiled. He looked around. "What smells so good."
Diana smiled. "I made Cait's scaled down version of chicken tetrazzini."
"You cooked again?" Bill asked with a smile.
"I'm trying to help out around here Bill," she smiled back.
Bill smiled, putting his arm around her. "I'm impressed. And I appreciate that. I'm proud of you and can't wait to enjoy your cooking." He softly kissed her cheek. "Please let me change and then we'll read this together," he smiled, handing the white envelope to Diana.
"Agreed," Diana smiled.
Bill and Diana set down at their small dining room table in the Las Vegas suburb carved out of the Nevada desert. Bill reached into his pocket and pulled out his pen knife, looking at Diana. "You okay?"
Diana smiled. "I can't wait to see it." Bill opened the knife and slid it through the top of the envelope opening it. Shutting the knife back in its sheath, he smiled, handing it to Diana.
Sandy did the same with a paring knife she pulled out of the knife block. She sat down to her table with the envelope and her dinner.
Fran put the contents of her heated up Tupperware onto a plate, took her chair at her table and picked up the envelope. She slid her finger through the top to open the envelope as Blanche, sitting on the next chair to her purred and did her cat wash job of her paws.
The three ladies pulled out their eagerly anticipated Christmas card with smiles.
The Hotchner Holiday Post they all read. Bill smiled at Diana.
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A/N: Yup. That's what I'm running with.