Bambi. A nickname that feels like a warm embrace, one that your mother lovingly bestowed upon you the moment you entered the world with those wide, innocent doe eyes. Your father soon adopted it too, chuckling as he watched you wobble and flail like a newborn deer, awkwardly taking your first steps. The name stuck, wrapping itself around you like a cherished blanket from your childhood.

As you grew, you embodied a rare combination of intelligence and gentleness, excelling in your studies and graduating early. By the time you were 24, you had proudly donned the badge of an FBI agent—a role that, despite the dark realities of your work, never dulled the soft light within you. Even now, you remained endearingly clumsy in moments that reminded everyone of that fawn-like child they once knew.

Within the bustling halls of the Bureau, you found your tribe. Emily, Penelope, and JJ were more than just colleagues; they were your sisters, your confidantes, and your partners in crime during joyful escapades. Spencer challenged you in intellectual battles over chess pieces, while Hotch carried the weight of a guiding paternal figure. Rossi played the role of that eccentric grandfather who always had a peculiar story to share. But it was Derek—your best friend, your anchor—who brought out the most vibrant parts of you.

Derek had a playful charm, effortlessly blending his macho demeanor with a heart that was tender beneath the surface. He had an unexpected affection for kittens and babies, and he could lose himself for hours in planning the aesthetics of a room, claiming that he enjoyed the thrill of tearing down walls more than putting them up. But his affection for you was the most cherished secret of all.

In his presence, you felt a comforting sense of safety, buoyed by his lighthearted spirit. He was the one who made work enjoyable, bringing joy and laughter into the day-to-day grind of your lives. There was an undeniable chemistry, an unspoken understanding between you both.

“Woah! Careful, Bambi!” he chuckled as you stumbled, your foot catching on the fabric of the bullpen carpet. His hand reached out to you, unwavering and steady.

You grasped it, a flurry of warmth washing over you. An awkward smile spread across your face, followed by a soft chuckle escaping your lips. The nickname—Agent Bambi—had been a ghost of your past, now resurrected in playful camaraderie. “Who let you in on that little secret?” you teased, curiosity glinting in your eyes.

From that day forward, you became his Bambi in the bullpen, or on occasion, ‘Agent Bambi’—a title that rang with jest and affection.

“Agent Bambi! I come bearing an invitation!” Derek exclaimed dramatically, his voice echoing through the office as he ruffled your hair with a playful grin. “Care to accompany me for a night of drinks and dancing with Penelope?”

A laugh bubbled up from you as you attempted to tame your disheveled hair. “Not a chance! We’ve got work in the morning,” you replied, amusement dancing in your voice.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, he shook his head, pulling you up with a vibrant energy that was as contagious as it was reassuring. “It wasn’t a question!” he declared, the fun of the moment wrapping around you both like an exuberant melody.