The Second Year
The second year is hell.
She'd wanted to be here and yes, she wouldn't change it for the world but between Reid's drug addiction, Gideon's disgustingly abrupt departure (and she isn't at all sure she's ready to forgive him, or anywhere close. She's protective and angry and well within her right to be both) and Garcia's shooting, the team's barely had the chance to breathe.
So when the holiday season rolls around, they are all more than ready to clear the slate.
And maybe that's why they're all so subdued as they sit around the tree installed in the conference room. They're quiet and isolated, each in their own world until Garcia finally reaches for one of the small gifts beneath the tree.
This year, they don't spread out the presents. This year, the watch each person peel back the paper, reveal the gift. It's a tedious process, but even Rossi seems more than happy to let everything unfold at it's own pace. It's their way of breaking up the insanity, of spending time together and reaffirming their position as a team and their positions in each other's lives.
She doesn't quite make out like a bandit, but she comes away from their gift giving party with some neat little things. There are coloured pens and a crossword book, a Vonnegut book and what looks to be a hand-knitted wrap. They are beautiful gifts that are just that little bit more personal than last year. It makes her smile.
But it's her last gift that makes her pause. She thinks she's figured it out (they don't put names on their gifts and are surprisingly protective of that little, irrelevant secret), thinks she knows exactly who gives her which gift, but that leaves an unlikely culprit for the small, gold-wrapped package she now holds in her hands.
A gold-wrapped package that looks surprisingly familiar.
This year it isn't a partridge though. This year, two white birds are nestled in the cotton, one with a silver beak, the other gold. Porcelain, she thinks, or at least ceramic. The smile that spreads across her face is involuntary when she figures out they are not only turtle doves, but a set of salt and pepper shakers.
They never actually hold salt and pepper, but to her, they hold a lot of significance.