Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Never have, never will. But I'd like to sneak into the sandbox and play around for a while.
AN: Takes place shortly after season six.
My apologies for the direction this has gone in. It came to me in some twisted dream, and then spiraled out of control. I had intended to publish this as one long chapter, but it will be in three parts now. Hoping to get the other two parts up before week's end. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Merry Christmas CM fans!
Also, virtual cookies and candy canes to anyone who guesses correctly what literary work I had loosely based this on. Preference for guesses to be PM'd, though adding in a review post is fine too. Double the payout if anyone gets it right with just this first part!
"Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement; and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
~George Santayana
The spring season has been a really good one for horticultural fanatics. All of Ashley Seaver's neighbours had been pulling out all the stops. While it wasn't something she obsessed over, it was just easier to go with the crowd and fit in. It was better to seek acceptance for who she was, rather than being judged for who her father was. All her choices were about finding her place in the world, standing on her own feet. But sometimes, it was hard to ignore history and all its baggage.
After months of being with the BAU, Seaver still had doubts about how well she fit in with them. They were a team, a family. She was like an interloper. Some of them had tried to welcome her in, but she had seen the glances and heard the whispers. Changing her last name didn't work— she had confessed what kind of animal her father had been. The whispers had become looks of pity tinged with suspicion. Some of the others had attempted to remain professional, reserved. Those façades had cracks in them; thinly veiled resentment boiled beneath the surface.
Seaver had ignored them the best she could. The only opinions she cared about were Hotchner and Rossi's, since she was finishing up her training under their watchful eyes. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Even graduating from the academy hadn't changed much. This was why she was initiating a get-together with the team, rather than tagging along. And since it was the Memorial Day weekend, a backyard barbecue was perfect for the occasion.
Opening the door to her bungalow, Seaver pasted on a smile and greeted the oddest looking couple in the FBI. Garcia quickly enveloped her in a hug and started talking animatedly about how wonderful it was that Seaver was finally feeling a part of the family. Lynch was still on the porch, arms laden with his and Garcia's potluck contributions— potato salad from him, and she had brought homemade apple pie for dessert. She ushered them inside, and shut the door. They had just made it through the house to the patio doors when there was a knock on the door.
"Just make yourselves at home," Seaver called over her shoulder as she hurried back to the front of the house. She opened the door again, forestalling another knock. "Hey guys! Come in, come in," she chirped, stepping back to admit the rest of the team, with Aaron Hotchner holding his son's hand.
She knelt to be at eye level with her youngest guest. "Jack, buddy, I'm so glad to see you. There are some toys and games in the backyard." At that, Jack looked to dad for his nod, and then took off running before any of the adults could call out for him to slow down.
In no time, the barbecue grill was sizzling with an array of food, and a table had been set up with the other dishes and drinks. Morgan had commandeered the grill, while Reid was fiddling around with the stereo. At least, until Rossi had taken over, telling the younger man that the selection had to be more appropriate for the festivities.
Everyone there had taken advantage of the holidays to forget the stresses of work, and to unwind. There were boisterous bantering, and an impromptu magic show with Jack as Reid's apprentice-assistant. Jack had put on a puppet show, and even managed to talk his dad into co-starring in it, to which there was plenty of cheering and laughter.
