Disclaimer: Well, I'd send my lawyer ninjas out to steal Criminal Minds for me, but I think that Gideon and his team would probably be able to track them back to me. I'll have to make do with fanfiction, Wednesday nights, and worshipping the people who really do own it.

A/N: Um. This is weird. And has very little substance. I got it one day when my brother and I were having fun, sorry, I mean, cleaning the basement. It's not spectacular; just a fun little drabble-thing. Hope it makes you smile, at least.


Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reed blew gently at the dark liquid in the styrofoam cup in his hand before taking a cautious sip. He nodded in satisfaction. Coffee, extra sugar, hold the milk – the perfect thing to help him get through a hard day's work of tracking down sociopaths.

His caffeine needs satiated for the time being, the young genius left the break room, coffee in hand, and turned left down the corridor, heading back to the offices of Quantico's Behavioral Analysis Unit. The B.A.U. team had recently wrapped up a nasty case involving a particularly brutal serial killer; he had a lot of paperwork that he needed to finish.

He was so occupied with thoughts of the case that he almost didn't hear the sounds coming from Garcia's tech room as he passed by. Almost.

He stopped, listening. The noise didn't stop. A sharp, staccato popping drifted from out of the room, reminding him vaguely of the firing range. He suppressed a shudder. Many hours of practice were (slowly) improving his aim, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He doubted that the tech had a few dozen people firing handguns at man-sized targets in the same room as her precious computers were kept, however. Besides, the noise wasn't nearly as loud as even a silenced gun would be. His brow furrowed in confusion, Reid raised one hand, about to knock on the door, and then hesitated.

Did he really want to know?

Deciding that he didn't, the young genius hurried on his way.

When he reached his desk, he was still puzzling over what Garcia could have been doing. Apparently, it showed on his face, because within moments, Morgan was leaning on the edge of his desk.

"You okay? You look rattled."

Reid shook his head. "It's nothing. Just... a little bewildered."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "You?"

"Yeah..." Reid's frown deepened. "I just passed Garcia's room. There were... noises."

Morgan raised his other eyebrow. "What kind of noises?"

"Popping."

"Popping?"

"Yeah. Like at the firing range."

Slowly, Morgan smirked, then chuckled. "I know what it was."

"What?"

"Well... Garcia's new computer just got in."

"...And?"

"Well, y'see, it comes with bubble wrap..."