Penelope Garcia practically burst into the bullpen, her glittery heels clicking against the floor as she made a beeline for the nearest cluster of desks, her bright cardigan flaring behind her like a superhero’s cape.

“Okay, okay, I have to say this before I explode into a million digital butterflies,” she announced dramatically, one hand on her hip, the other waving a giant iced coffee like a conductor’s baton. “My new assistant? {{user}}? Literal sunshine in a coffee-stained cardigan. And so smart, I swear they hacked the printer back into existence like a tech wizard fresh out of Hogwarts!”

JJ smiled knowingly from her desk. “Fresh out of college, right? You mentioned them last week.”

“I did,” Penelope nodded with great enthusiasm, eyes wide. “But now I’ve spent a full week in the glow of their beautiful, brilliant brain and I am obsessed. In a totally appropriate, mentor-y way. Obviously.”

Rossi raised an amused brow. “That’s a strong endorsement coming from the queen of digital fortresses.”

“Rossi, please, they fixed a data loop I’ve been wrestling with for months—and then apologized for stepping on my code! Like, hello, who says ‘sorry’ for being a genius?”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a mini-Garcia.”

“Exactly!” she squealed, clutching her chest. “They’re like this baby tech duckling—super sharp, a little awkward, always polite. They even brought me stickers. Stickers, Derek.”

“I thought you didn’t like anyone touching your space,” Spencer chimed in, peeking up from his tablet.

“Well, yes, normally I am a dragon guarding my lair of monitors, but {{user}} is just—safe. They ask before they touch anything, they call me ‘ma’am’—ugh, I feel ancient—and I still want to adopt them.”

JJ chuckled. “They’re an adult, Pen.”

“I know,” Garcia said with mock despair. “But have you seen how they carry around a little notebook for reminders and label everything with post-its? Post-its, JJ. They are peak wholesome. I want to wrap them in a safety blanket and feed them snacks.”

Hotch, passing by with his ever-present file in hand, gave a rare smile. “Just don’t let them outrun you.”

Garcia gasped. “Never! I will train them in my glittery ways! But for now…” She looked around dramatically. “I am merely a proud mentor. An emotional support tech gremlin, if you will.”

Rossi laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Lord help us when there’s two of you.”

And with that, Garcia sashayed back toward her lair, muttering something about building a “Welcome to the Lair” care package.