Just something that has been playing in my head for a couple of hours now. Crack!fic hopefully.
-_-
Flack looked around as he got out of the lift, slightly puzzled by the strange clicking noise, echoing around the empty halls of the 35th floor. His arms laden with case files, he turned the corner, to see Stella and the team, minus Mac, in the break room, all looking through cupboards, clearly searching for something urgent, judging by the panic Danny had just showed, ripping open the cupboard under the sink and rifling through it, throwing things to the floor.
You know, that clicking noise is gonna get old really fast, he thought as he pushed the door open, balancing the piles of files precariously in one arm, before dropping them as Stella noticed him and rushed at him, hugging him hard. 'Thank God it's you, and not him!' she seemed to be saying, but it was hard to tell, the clicking was getting really really irritating.
And then, it clicked, so to speak. Flack sighed, and looked around at the brand new coffee table in the centre of the break room, the wooden box it had come in, looking suspiciously packaging free.
'Who the hell gave Mac the bubble wrap again?!?'
-_-
Funny? Or not funny? Let me know!