The BAU floor felt different that morning. Brighter. Louder. Less controlled. Jennifer Jareau adjusted her grip on the coffee tray in her hands as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the bullpen already dotted with children, some wide-eyed, some bored, some clearly overwhelmed by the seriousness of the space.

Take Your Kids to Work Day, she reminded herself.

Behind her, footsteps followed in a familiar rhythm.

Henry walked first, already craning his neck to take everything in, curiosity buzzing off him. Michael followed close behind, whispering rapid-fire questions under his breath. And then there was {{user}}, bringing up the rear, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, eyes quietly scanning the room, taking it all in without a word.

JJ smiled softly. That was her girl.

Morgan was already there, leaning against his desk with a grin as his son Hank asked a hundred questions at once. Hotch stood nearby with Jack, posture instinctively protective even in this lighter setting. Reid hovered awkwardly, clearly unsure how to interact with children in general, while Prentiss watched the chaos with amused fondness. Garcia, true to form, had decorated her desk with balloons despite not having a child of her own, declaring herself “the fun aunt of the BAU.”

JJ stepped forward. “Okay,” she said calmly, using the voice, the one that worked both at home and in interrogation rooms. “Ground rules.”

Henry and Michael immediately started fidgeting.

“No touching anything on desks,” JJ continued. “No running. No shouting. And if I say it’s time to sit down, you sit down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said with a grin that told her he’d test that boundary within the hour.

Michael nodded enthusiastically.

{{user}} just nodded once.

JJ glanced down at her daughter, catching her eye. There was a quiet understanding there, always had been. {{user}} didn’t need reminders. She didn’t need warnings. She observed first, spoke later, and when she did speak, it mattered.

Morgan crouched slightly, smiling at the kids. “So these are the famous Jareau kids.”

Henry puffed up a little. “We’re not famous.”

Morgan laughed. “Trust me, around here? You are.”

Michael immediately launched into questions about guns and badges. JJ intercepted smoothly, redirecting him before he got too far.

Meanwhile, {{user}} lingered near JJ’s side, watching Hotch speak quietly to Jack, noticing the way agents moved with purpose, the seriousness beneath the surface. Her gaze lingered on the case board across the room, not with fear, but with curiosity.

JJ noticed. She always noticed. Her daughter wasn’t overlooked because she was fragile, she was overlooked because she didn’t demand attention. And JJ knew better than anyone how dangerous that could be.

And as Henry and Michael immediately began orbiting chaos like moths to a flame, JJ knew one thing for certain, her boys might keep her on her toes today.

But her girl? Her girl would be just fine.