As I promised, this is a light, happy story with the team (mostly Morgan and Prentiss) having some fun while bored. So, please enjoy, thank you for reading, and reviews are always welcome.
It was their third paperwork day in a row, which meant they were all antsy and bored. Especially their two most restless members—Morgan and Prentiss, who'd been finding ways to distract each other all day (like pestering Reid) So, what eventually happened really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise to anyone, least of all profilers.
It started with Emily getting a thick manila envelope in the afternoon mail. She cringed when she saw the return address was her mother, figuring it couldn't be anything good. She dumped the contents on her desk, and found that while it wasn't good, it wasn't exactly bad either. Papers and photos from when she was a kid.
"Whatcha got there, Prentiss?" Morgan was already leaning over, trying to get a look.
She didn't look up from the letter she was reading, her mother's elegant cursive capturing her eyes. "Uh, my mother found some old stuff, figured I'd want it."
He reached over, and liberated a photo before she could smack his hand away.
"What are you doing?" Prentiss demanded.
"Looking at a photo of a cute little witch." He grinned and flipped it around.
A six year-old girl in a witch costume was smiling widely at the camera. A black dress with purple trim matched the black cape and pointy black hat decorated with a spider web. She held a pumpkin in her hands, and long dark hair fell over her shoulders. Little Emily looked ecstatic.
"I want to see," Reid piped up, moving over to Morgan's desk. He smiled. "You were cute."
"You look like a little ham," Morgan commented.
"Shut up." But, she was smiling when she said it. She remembered, she had been quite impressed with her own costume, and performed readily.
"What are we looking at?" JJ asked, walking into the bullpen, folder in one hand.
"Is that a new case?" Morgan asked excitedly.
"Nope, sorry," she offered a sympathetic look, and leaned over the shoulder Reid wasn't looking over. "Who's the kid? She's a little cutie."
Reid was smirking when he answered. "It's Prentiss."
JJ turned to her friend with raised eyebrows. "It's cute, but...why?"
Prentiss sighed, "My mother sent me an envelope full of stuff from when I was a kid, and Morgan got nosey." She shot him a look.
"You got anything good in there?" He asked, unashamedly. JJ shook her head, and walked up toward Rossi's office, while Reid made his way back to his desk.
"No, I do not." She snatched the photo from his hands, and shot him a warning look. Morgan took it with a grin. Prentiss rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible."
"So my mother tells me."
She shook her head, and went back to her pile. Morgan watched her pick up a paper, unfold it, and promptly wince. A wince that grew deeper as she read. Finally he couldn't take it. "What are you reading that's so bad?"
"Huh?" She looked up startled. He nodded to the paper. "Oh, report card from my senior year in high school."
"Pssh, I'll bet you were a straight A student," he said.
"I didn't say the grades were bad."
"Then what?"
"I didn't realize how much my teachers hated me," she answered, trying to remember being that obnoxious in high school.
"How's that?" Morgan wasn't prepared to believe she was a bad kid, he just couldn't see it.
"According to one, I was a good student, but difficult to deal with and wholly defiant," Emily put the last part in air quotes.
"Well, that's not that bad."
"That was the nicest thing on there."
Morgan chuckled. "Ouch." He was about to go back to his paperwork when another photo caught his eye, one he just had to see. Formulating a plan in his head, Morgan slid out of his chair, and practically oozed over to her desk. Leaning over her shoulder, he whispered into her ear. "From my experience, it's the rebellious girls that are the most fun."
She whipped around to look at him, eyes wide, and while she was distracted trying to figure out if she heard him right, Morgan snagged the photo off her desk, and backed away chuckling.
"What is that?" She demanded, nodding to the photo he stole.
Morgan took a good look at it, the two kids in some version of goth-punk formal wear, and archway they stood under, and he just burst out laughing.
"Morgan," Prentiss hissed at him.
While he was attempting to contain his laughter, Garcia was shuffling into the bullpen. A digital camera was in her hands, which she'd just finished fixing for Rossi. Apparently, his niece had the bright idea to give him technology. She froze when she saw them, the daggers Emily was glaring at Morgan's amused look. No better time to test the camera. She flipped it on and aimed.
"Oh, oh," Morgan chuckled. "This has got to be your senior prom photo, and Prentiss, let me say, you were a charmer."
Her eyes widened as she remembered that particular photo. Not her most flattering moment. "Morgan, give me back that photo."
"Are you kidding, I'm having this thing framed."
"Morgan," she growled, getting out of her chair.
He did the same, backing away from her. "Not going to happen."
"I will hurt you," she threatened.
"Oh yeah? Come and get it then." He moved quickly around to Reid's desk, who looked alarmed.
"Hey, what are you doing! Don't involve me!" Reid cried.
"Relax Kid, she's not going to do anything," Morgan assured him.
Prentiss was incredulous. "Really? You don't think so?"
"Haven't yet," he said grinning.
A challenge, she couldn't not take it. "Better move quick, Morgan."
He looked confused for a minute, until she jumped toward him, barely missing him. Morgan was wide-eyed only seconds before taking off. Emily chased after him, neither noticing a gleeful Garcia, smile stretched the width of her face, recording every moment.
Morgan whipped around the maze of pods, startling the people that had stopped working, finding the profilers chasing each other much more interesting than paperwork. Prentiss was fast behind him, thinking of nothing but the thought that she had to get him. If either were thinking anything else, Morgan wouldn't have gone for the stairs up to the catwalk, and Prentiss wouldn't have followed.
It was in front of Hotch's office that she finally caught him, launching herself in an FBI-sanctioned tackle technique. Morgan went down hard, right outside Hotch's door, Emily landing on top of him, and the photo flying out of his hand. It was at that moment, that second they hit the ground that Hotch's door opened to reveal not Hotch, but Strauss.
Apparently, they'd been in a meeting.
Rossi and JJ stepped out of the office, wondering what was going on. Rossi picked up the photograph, and viewed it with raised eyebrows and an amused smile. Strauss had a hand against her chest, clearly caught off guard by the squirming mass of limbs at her feet. Hotch came to stand behind her, surprised look gracing his face before he dampened it.
Morgan and Prentiss were scrambling to their feet as quickly as possible.
"Agent Prentiss, Agent Morgan, what the hell is going on?" Strauss demanded.
Prentiss gathered her wits first, used to excusing her behavior before authority figures. "Practicing tackling techniques ma'am."
"Oh really?" Strauss looked skeptical, and turned to Morgan for confirmation.
He cleared his throat. "Uh yeah, her technique could use a little work."
Emily covertly elbowed him in the gut, and Morgan barely masked a grunt.
Strauss smirked, clearly not believing them. "And Agent Hotchner, I suppose you green-lighted this...exercise?"
Hotch looked at his two subordinates, and then back at his boss. "Of course, ma'am. Though, I didn't expect it to be taking place in front of my office," he said, looking pointedly at Morgan and Prentiss. "We have a gym for a reason, Agents. Use it."
"Yes, sir," they both agreed quickly.
Strauss turned to JJ and Rossi. "Any comments to add, David?"
Rossi shrugged. "The kids get bored with paperwork."
Strauss rolled her eyes, and marched away, down the stairs and out of the BAU. As soon as she was gone, all attention went right to Morgan and Prentiss.
"What did I just lie about?" Hotch immediately asked.
"I think I can answer that," Rossi said, pulling out the photo he'd stashed inside his jacket.
Hotch took it, looked at it, and immediately winced. He looked up at Prentiss. "This is you, I gather?"
The picture featured a punked-out, teenage Emily Prentiss, in a dress with a slit up to the top of her thigh, glaring at the camera, and both hands held up flipping the bird.
She shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah...I was a kid."
"A charming one at that," Rossi commented, lips turned slightly upward.
"Okay, so I was an angry kid."
JJ took the photo from Hotch, and barked a laugh. "Oh, wow, Em..."
Prentiss rolled her eyes, and snatched the photo back. "It was adolescent retaliation against my mother for making me go."
Without another word, she stalked down the stairs, Morgan and JJ following after her.
"You're not really mad, are you?" Morgan asked.
She whipped around. "No, only because I'm pretty sure I gave you some bruises."
"Hate to break it to you, Princess, but you don't tackle that hard," Morgan teased.
"Maybe not," Prentiss conceded, "but..." she trailed off, and Morgan suddenly found himself tripping over a foot. She miscalculated, and instead of falling into a desk, he fell right into her. She squeaked and braced herself on someone's desk, as Morgan hit her back, and grabbed her hips to keep himself up right.
"Ouch, Morgan get off me," she growled.
"Hey, this is all your fault," he argued, straightening himself up and backing off.
"Did someone spike your coffees this morning?" JJ asked, staring at them incredulously. It was like they'd regressed twenty years.
"Sibling squabble, kids?" Rossi asked, smirking. He and Hotch had followed the commotion to find the same culprits from the last one.
"Sorry, Hotch," Morgan mumbled sheepishly.
"Sorry," Emily echoed him.
"Are you two finished?" He asked, sounding exasperated.
They both nodded and headed toward their desks, only to catch sight of Garcia, hitting the stop button with a triumphant smile.
"Babydoll, whatcha doing with that?" Morgan asked cautiously.
"Capturing profilers at play. Sounds like a nature documentary, doesn't it?" She grinned mischievously.
"You're going to delete that now," he told her.
"Hells-no. I'm going to transfer it to my computer, edit it, add some fun music, and burn it to DVD."
"Is that really necessary?"
"You have no idea how necessary it is," she answered.
"How much of all that did you get?" Emily asked.
"Oh sweetpea, I got it all. Every. Precious. Second."
"Come on Garcia, I know you've got my back. Delete that."
"Handsome, I'll always have your back, but no. I'm keeping this."
"Then I'm going to have to take it from you." Morgan went to move toward her, but her voice stopped him.
"Derek Thomas Morgan, you injure this camera or the magnificent video I've captured, and I will go into my office, and delete your entire credit history in under two minutes."
"But Babygirl-"
"But nothing," Garcia cut him off. "Do you know what this is?" She held up the camera, suddenly talking to the entire team. "This is video therapy for yours truly. This is the life preserver my sanity will be clinging to for the foreseeable future. This is what I'm going to have the next time one of you gets-or almost gets-knocked out, beaten, blown-up, burned, shot, stabbed, kidnapped, in a car accident, or god only knows what other trouble you guys can get into. I will put this little gem on, and instead of crying in my coffee, I'll be snorting it out my nose. Got it?"
"None of us has ever been burned," Reid commented, frowning in confusion.
"Oh, so missing the point, Spence," Garcia said.
Morgan finally relented, holding his hands in the air, and backing away from Garcia.
"Any idea when I'll be getting my camera back?" Rossi asked, not really phased by her diatribe.
"Oh, sorry Sir. I'm going to transfer this, and check for recording errors. As long as I find none, you'll have it back today." She smiled sweetly, and headed off.
Morgan and Prentiss slunk back to their desks, and JJ seemed to shake herself, before heading back to her office.
Rossi turned to Hotch then. "Interesting day, huh?"
Hotch shook his head, and sighed heavily. "We really need a case."