I don't own Criminal Minds, and I'm in no way making any profit off of this story.

Summary: Penelope receives a strange package, that's contents lead to a most disturbing mystery. What will the team do in order to get to the bottom of it? Will eventually be Morgan/Garcia.

Please R&R

Enjoy!

…

"You two want to go out for drinks tonight, have a girl's night out?" Prentiss asked as she sat down at her desk and took a sip of her coffee.

"As long as we don't get called away on another case" J.J. said.

"Drinks sound good," Penelope agreed "I swear it feels like we haven't been for a girl's night out for like a month."

"Girls night out?" Derek asked walking over to the cluster of desks and placing his freshly made coffee down on his own desk, "You mean you're not going to invite me?"

"Sorry Hot Stuff," Penelope said "it wouldn't be a girl's night if you were there."

Derek pouted teasingly and Penelope gave his shoulder a light punch.

"Garcia?"

Penelope turned around and saw Hotch walking towards them.

"Yes Sir?" she asked.

Hotch stopped when he was a few feet away and handed her some paperwork "I need you to upload this information into the system."

"Aye aye Captain," Penelope said "I'll get right on it."

Hotch gave curt nod as he watched her turn and make her way to her office and then looked over at the other team members "Everyone else, let's get back to work please."

…

Penelope had been uploading the information Hotch had given her for an hour and she still wasn't even close to being finished.

She sighed as she heard a knock on her door "Come in" she called, spinning around to face the door.

The door opened and the kid who worked in the mail room was standing there. Penelope smiled at him; he had just turned seventeen and was one of the nicest kids around. His messy blonde hair hung in front of sharp blue eyes and he had a lopsided grin on his face "Hey Penelope," he said.

"Hey Chad," Penelope said with a smile "what brings you to my lair?"

The boy held out a medium sized package that was wrapped in brown paper "This came for you this morning, I would have brought it by sooner but we had a hold up at the scanner today."

"That's alright" Penelope said taking the package, she understood about the scanner, she knew it was a good thing that the FBI didn't let just anything into the building, "How have you been Chad? Looking forward to going back to school."

Chad rolled his eyes "I'd much rather continue to work here instead of going back for my last year of high school. I mean there's no way that school could beat the excitement of working at FBI headquarters but if I ever want to become an actual agent instead of just working in the mail room, I have to go to school, plus my mom would kill me if I didn't go back."

"I know what that's like," Penelope said "I know school can seem like a bore but it really is in your best interest."

Chad shrugged "Yeah, I know."

Penelope grinned "I bet in no time we'll be seeing you back here….and it won't be to work in the mail room."

Chad smiled "I hope so."

"I know so, as long as you continue to work hard you'll make a great agent" Penelope said.

"Thanks Penelope," Chad said "you're the best."

"Oh don't I know it" Penelope said with a laugh.

"I better get back to work" Chad said, he flashed one last grin at Penelope before he turned and left.

Once Chad was gone, Penelope gently pushed her door closed and then wheeled herself back to her desk, the brown package sitting in her lap.

Penelope looked down at it, running her hand over the front, she looked at her printed name and FBI's address printed on the front, and wondered who would be sending her a package. There was no return address but Penelope conscious didn't even make that recognition as she pulled off the paper.

In her mind she didn't think it could be anything bad since the FBI went through everything they received in the mail, checking for toxicities, possible bombs or anything life threatening.

Penelope guessed it could be from one of the victims she counseled once a week. She had before gotten mail, never packages, but letters from some of the families, and they always sent them to her through her work address since Penelope never gave anyone her home address.

When Penelope had pulled off the standard, brown paper, she found herself holding a rectangular wooden box.

It had the initials P.G. carved into its front and had hinges on the side so you could open the top.

Penelope carefully opened the boxed and gasped when she saw what was inside.

It was a blonde doll, its hair in pigtails, with brown eyes and it was wearing a baby blue dress. To anyone it might have seemed like a normal child's doll, no reason to be suspicious of it but Penelope felt her heart start to beat a little faster than normal.

As she looked at the doll an image flashed in her mind of her apartment. In her living room she had shelves lining her walls and on the farthest shelf from the T.V. sat a doll, exactly like this one. It was her childhood doll; she had had it since before she could remember and kept it on that shelf because even though she was too old for dolls, she had never been able to part with it.

But what were the chances that this could actually be her doll, she was sure that there was probably hundreds of exactly the same doll circulating around America since the doll brand had been popular when she was growing up.

And of course it would still be creepy to get a doll in the mail that was designed to look like her and looked exactly like her childhood doll, but at least if it was a copy then she could safely say that no one had been in her apartment.

There was only one way to know for sure.

Penelope quickly turned the doll around in her hands, and lifted up the doll's dress. Her eyes widened and she dropped the doll back into the box as if she had been burned.

On the doll's back there was a long zigzagging scratch that marked the doll. A scratch that Penelope's doll had acquired accidentally when Penelope had been five and was playing with her.

Penelope looked closer into the box and saw a picture of a little girl around three years old with curly blonde locks.

A girl that she would know anywhere.

It was a picture of her.