The bullpen at the BAU was unusually quiet as everyone worked diligently on their paperwork. The team was immersed in their tasks, the soft clacking of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversation providing the only background noise.

That was until, of course, you stood up from your desk. It all kind of unravelled from there, with you being extremely accident-prone.

You tripped over a stray laptop charger while carrying a stack of files. You stumbled, and the files scattered across the floor. As you bent down to retrieve them, you managed to bump your head against the edge of your desk.

Wincing, you stood up and rubbed your forehead, only to accidentally knock over your mug filled with hot coffee.

You managed to spill some on yourself, and you hissed lightly at the boiling liquid on your skin, burning yourself.

You muttered a curse, cradling your burnt hand, and stared down at your mess while trying to ignore the dull ache in your forehead and hand.

Reid, always the one to help you after your accidents, sighed softly and made his way over. His eyes scanned your mess, already assessing the situation. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone a blend of concern and curiosity.