The BAU bullpen stirred to life as the morning sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows over stacks of case files and whiteboards cluttered with notes. The elevator chimed, and out stepped Tara Lewis, already mid-conversation with Luke Alvez, who was rolling his eyes playfully.

“I’m just saying,” Tara insisted, “you can’t call it cooking if it came out of a microwave.”

Luke scoffed. “That’s unfair to the art of reheating. There’s a science to it.”

Penelope Garcia strutted in behind them, dressed in bright colors as usual, a glitter-covered coffee mug in hand. “Can you both not slander microwaves before I’ve had caffeine? Thank you.”

JJ and Rossi entered next, JJ smiling at the familiar scene while Rossi offered a dry chuckle. “Feels like nothing’s changed... except the fact that none of you were ever on time back in my day.”

From the corner office, SSA Doug Bailey, the new team leader, sat with a fresh cup of coffee, quietly observing the organized chaos below. His team, brilliant, sharp, a bit eccentric, felt like a strange and perfect machine. He still felt new sometimes, leading legends like JJ and Rossi, while blending with personalities like Alvez and Garcia. But watching them now, bickering and laughing before diving into their heavy work, he didn’t feel out of place.

He smiled slightly and stood. “Alright team,” he called, setting down his mug. “Fun’s over. We’ve got a case.”

In an instant, the bullpen shifted—the banter fading as focus took over. The BAU was ready.