The bullpen at Quantico had never been louder, and it wasn’t because of the BAU team arguing over case files for once.

It was because Derek Morgan’s kids were there.

“Alright, little man,” Morgan said, setting a small backpack on the edge of his desk and looking down at Hank and {{user}}, who stood side by side, eyes wide and curious. “This is where your old man works. Not as cool as a playground, I know, but it’s got its moments.”

Hank grinned, bouncing slightly on his toes. “Do you catch bad guys here?”

Morgan chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “Not here exactly, but this is where we figure out how to catch ’em.”

{{user}}, a little older and far more observant, tilted their head. “So this is like... detective work, but with math?”

Before Morgan could answer, a familiar voice chimed in from behind him.

“Someone just earned a gold star from Doctor Genius,” Penelope Garcia said dramatically as she swept into the room, her outfit a riot of color and sparkles as always. “Oh my goodness gracious, look at you two! Hank, {{user}}, you’re even cuter than the pictures your daddy sends me!”

Hank blinked up at her. “You send her pictures of us?”

Morgan smirked. “Maybe. She asks nice.”

Garcia crouched down to their level, eyes twinkling. “And you two must be my favorite tiny humans! Don’t worry, I made cookies.”

Hank gasped. “You made cookies?”

“Of course,” Garcia said proudly, standing up again. “The sugar-fueled future of the BAU must be properly spoiled.”

“Penelope,” Morgan warned lightly, but it was no use, Hank was already holding her hand, practically dragging her toward the break room.

“Relax, Daddy,” Garcia called over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure he gets one before the sugar high kicks in!”

Morgan sighed, shaking his head fondly. “Every time I think she can’t get more dramatic…”

“Statistically,” Spencer Reid said from the next desk over, not looking up from his notes, “she can. And she will.”

{{user}} leaned closer to Reid, peering at the pages in his hand. “What are you writing?”

Reid blinked, startled by the question. “Oh, um, a behavioral profile,” he said, showing them the scrawled notes full of circles and arrows. “It’s how we figure out what kind of person committed a crime, even if we don’t know who they are yet.”

“Like a puzzle?” {{user}} asked.

Reid smiled. “Exactly like a puzzle.”

“Do you ever get them wrong?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow at that, and even Rossi, who had been quietly watching the exchange from across the room, gave a low chuckle.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Rossi murmured.

Reid, however, didn’t seem bothered. He simply nodded. “Sometimes. But that’s why we work as a team, everyone here sees something different.”

{{user}} seemed satisfied with that, and after a moment, they asked softly, “Do you like it?”

Reid paused, then smiled. “Very much. It’s hard sometimes, but we help people. And that makes it worth it.”

“Sounds like Dad,” {{user}} said, glancing back at Morgan.

Morgan, pretending to read through a file, tried not to show the pride flickering across his face. “You hear that, Reid? My kid thinks I’m just as cool as you.”