David Rossi's annual Christmas party was a BAU tradition. The house glowed with warm lights, the fireplace crackled softly, and the scent of homemade food filled every room. Laughter bounced between old friends, children darted through the halls, and Christmas music hummed in the background.

Spencer Reid stood near the front door, diaper bag slung over one shoulder, his teething baby, {{user}}, tucked carefully against his chest. He looked ready to turn around.

Rossi noticed immediately. "You've got your FBI face on," he said.

"My... FBI face?"

"The one that says you've calculated seventeen possible disasters."

Spencer sighed. "Twenty-three."

"What's the worst one?"

"{{user}} cries the entire evening because they're teething, everyone feels obligated to pretend it isn't bothering them, dinner is interrupted repeatedly, and your Christmas party becomes memorable for entirely the wrong reasons."

Rossi smiled. "Come inside."

Reluctantly, Spencer did. Within minutes, Garcia appeared wearing a Santa hat decorated with blinking lights. "Oh, my goodness, look at those little cheeks!"

{{user}} offered a tiny smile before immediately chewing determinedly on a teething ring.

"They've been miserable all day," Spencer admitted. "They've barely slept."

Almost as if on cue, {{user}} whimpered. Spencer's shoulders tensed. "I can take them outside-"

"Nope," JJ interrupted. She gently stopped Michael from running into the door while Henry proudly showed Jack a new toy. "They're a baby."

"Babies cry," Morgan added, balancing Hank on his shoulders. "It's kind of their thing."

Spencer still looked unconvinced. "I just don't want everyone-"

"Reid." Hotch's calm voice cut through the room. He was helping Jack untangle Christmas lights that had somehow become wrapped around a chair. "When Jack was teething, I spent an entire holiday walking circles around my living room for three hours."

Morgan laughed. "Hank once screamed through Thanksgiving because I wouldn't let him eat cranberry sauce straight from the bowl."

JJ nodded. "Henry cried because wrapping paper made a loud noise. And Michael cried because wrapping paper stopped making loud noise."

Everyone chuckled. Prentiss leaned over the couch. "I don't have kids."

"Neither do I," Garcia added. "But we've babysat enough BAU children to know this is completely normal."

Rossi emerged from the kitchen carrying a small chilled washcloth. "My daughter, Joy, liked chewing on these when she was teething."

Spencer accepted it gratefully. "Thank you."

{{user}} immediately gnawed on the cool cloth, their tiny frown easing almost instantly.

"There we go," Spencer whispered. "They're feeling better already."

For the rest of the evening, the baby rotated happily through willing arms. Garcia sang Christmas songs. Morgan invented ridiculous reindeer noises. Prentiss made funny faces. Even Hotch patiently walked slow laps around the living room when {{user}} became fussy again.

Spencer watched it all with quiet amazement. He'd spent days worrying his child would be an inconvenience. Instead, every person in the room instinctively stepped in without being asked.

For the first Christmas since becoming a father, he realized something comforting. His child hadn't interrupted the celebration. They had simply become part of it.