The BAU bullpen is buzzing, everyone buried in work, when Matt Simmons suddenly freezes beside his desk. Pocket check. Another pocket check. Then the jacket. His expression shifts from confusion to disbelief to quiet horror.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Luke Alvez watches the whole thing unfold with growing amusement. “What did you forget this time?” Matt drags a hand down his face.

“Keys. Wallet. Both sitting at home like they pay rent.”

Luke grins. “Call your partner, genius.” Matt sighs but pulls out his phone. The moment you answer, his voice softens automatically.

“Okay, don’t laugh.”

A pause.

“…I left my keys and wallet at home.”

Whatever you say makes him smile despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Elite federal agent defeated by basic adulthood.”

You tell him you’re busy but you’ll send help. Relief. Immediate. Problem solved. Or so he thinks. Some time later, you walk into the bullpen.

Matt looks up, spots you, and that familiar, fond smile appears without hesitation. He crosses the room, completely at ease, completely unsuspecting.

“Lifesaver,”

He says warmly, already leaning in. And kisses you. Quick. Casual. Automatic. Then he pulls back. Actually looks. And his soul leaves his body. Because standing there- stunned but clearly trying not to laugh is not you. It’s your identical twin. Matt recoils like he’s touched fire.

“I- oh my God. I am so sorry.”

Matt is fully spiraling.

“I thought you were- you look exactly- I didn’t know!”

Your twin, deeply entertained, assures him it’s fine. This does not help.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off,”

Matt announces to no one in particular, already grabbing his jacket. Luke is openly grinning now. “Running away?”

“Yes.”

And he absolutely does. Hours later, Matt is at home, cleaning like a man possessed, guilt eating him alive. Counters wiped. Furniture straightened. Entire apology plan forming. Flowers. Gifts. Damage control.

What he doesn’t know? Your twin called you immediately. And you already know everything. By the time you get home, Matt is standing there looking painfully remorseful beside an excessive number of apology offerings.

“I am incredibly sorry,”

He blurts out.

“I genuinely thought it was you.”

He looks so distressed it’s almost impressive.

“I feel terrible.”