Prompt: Gingerbread
Pairing: N/A
XIV: Gingerbread
Spencer walked into the bullpen, setting his satchel underneath his desk and his cup of coffee on top. It wasn't often that he was running late to work, so he tried to immediately keep himself busy. It took him a few minutes to realize that the rest of his team wasn't in the bullpen. Looking up, he saw that the BAU room was empty, as were Hotch and Rossi's offices. It wasn't until he heard laughter from the break room and turned around that he found out where everyone had been. Taking the final sip of his coffee, he threw the cup away, getting up and walking to the break room to see what the fuss was about.
He found the team gathered around one of the tables, looking at something. Curious, he moved to the one empty space, wondering what had them so amused. Sitting on the table was a small gingerbread house, with 'BAU' written on the front in icing. Standing up around the house were seven little gingerbread men, though some would be called gingerbread women. It seemed as if someone, no, definitely Garcia, had put a lot of detail into it. He looked around at them until he found the one he knew was his own. It was taller than the rest of them and he let out a little laugh. It had his brown hair, his glasses, a sweater vest, his scarf, pants, two odd-colored socks, and his sneakers.
"When did you have time to do this?"
She looked up at him, smiling. "Nice to see you've made it in, Boy Wonder. I thought after that last case in Florida, everyone could use a little something to cheer them up, so I decided that a little fun with gingerbread was in order."
Rossi picked up his own, turning it toward Garcia. "Was the facial hair necessary?" he asked, pointing to the grey icing on the face.
"Oh, definitely. Yours was looking far too much like Hotch's and you needed your distinguishing feature. It's not like I can make a designer, Italian suit out of icing and gumdrops," she argued.
He laughed softly. "I guess not."
"I'm guessing that's the same reason my 'blonde' hair is lighter than hers," JJ said, grabbing hers. "And there's even a little Henry holding my hand? Good touch."
"And he's dressed as his favorite profiler. I know how hard it was to get him out of that costume."
"Next to impossible."
Derek looked at them and pointed. "And I'm sure there's a reason we're holding hands."
She scoffed. "Why, are you insulted? A woman like me needs her big, strong Adonis to protect her, even in gingerbread form."
"And tell me, why am I just wearing pants and shoes while everyone else is fully clothed?"
"...Because, even in gingerbread form, your Baby Girl needs something to entertain herself."
He laughed to himself, rubbing her arm. "And your little gingerbread self is just as bright and cheerful as you, I see."
"Indeed." Everyone looked over at it and saw what Derek was talking about. The gingerbread version of her was wearing her blue glasses, a purple dress, heels, and jewelry made out of several pieces of candy.
Emily, who had been inspecting her gingerbread likeness, smirked. "How long did this take you?"
"A few hours. I made everything from scratch and, obviously, individually worked on them, making sure they were all perfect little copies of everyone."
Derek leaned over, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you, sweetness, they look good enough to eat."
"Oh no you don't," she said, swatting at his chest.
"Excuse me?"
"I worked far too long and hard on these to not let them be appreciated for at least a day." She reached for a container, opening it. "You can enjoy gingerbread cookies until I decide it's a suitable time for my artwork to no longer be appreciated."
Everyone set down the smaller, edible versions of themselves and reached over, taking a cookie and eating it, thanking her.
She set everything back in its perfect place and raised an eyebrow, eyeing Hotch. "Why do you no longer have a head?" she asked, pointing to it.
He swallowed. "Should've put out the warning sooner."
She rolled her eyes before giggling. "Apparently, our little gingerbread team is led by the headless Hotch."