[✓] 𝐶𝐼𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 | 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃

𝟏𝟎 | 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐓

— 𝒞 —

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 raised eyebrows as Spencer moved a black pawn across the board, and then a white knight.

"Are you seriously playing against yourself?" she scoffed as she leaned back on her desk chair.

Spencer raised his eyebrows, though he kept his eyes on the board as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I asked you to play. Offer's still on the table."

Charlie folded her arms as he moved a black rook. "I always lose against you. Ask me to play against Morgan, sure, he sucks—"

"Why the drive-by?" Morgan scoffed, though his interjection was ignored.

"—or even JJ or Hotch, yes. But you? No, thanks. Guaranteed loss."

Spencer glanced up at her. "So what if you lose?"

"So, it's not fun."

He chuckled. "You don't need to win to have fun."

She shrugged as she leaned forward on her desk, peering over the glass divider that was between their desks. "What's the point of playing if you know you'll lose?"

He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. "Having fun."

She shook her head. "It's like going into a fight without any weapons. You know you'll die. That's no fun."

An amused smile played on his lips as he teased, "Are you suggesting you have fun in fights?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Because that's what it seems like you're suggesting."

"Yeah. Seems like," she scoffed. She glanced towards the paperwork that was next to the chessboard. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"I am!" she protested as she gestured towards the papers that were spread in front of her. "See! I'm working!"

"So am I. It's called multi-tasking," he emphasized as he moved a white pawn and knocked out a black rook. "You can do it, too. Just play with me."

Charlie tilted her head. "What do I get out of it?"

"Fun."

"You know what?" she turned back to the work in front of her and lied, "This paperwork is looking really interesting."

"Oh, I'm sure it is." 

Before she could reply, a shriek rang through the air, causing the entire bullpen to go silent.

Charlie's head immediately whipped towards the kitchen area to see that Garcia was the culprit of the scream. She was staring at the contents of the garbage beside the counter, her face sheet-white and her eyes wide.

There were a few hushed whispers amongst them, though they all quietened as Garcia slowly turned to face them, her face now transitioning from pale to red.

She grabbed something from the garbage—a brown shard, from what Charlie could make out—and shouted, "Who the hell broke my mug?!"

The room remained silent.

"Oh," she scoffed, tossing the shard back into the garbage and sticking her hands on her hips, "now all you blabber-mouths wanna be quiet? I know one of you did it."

Emily glanced around the room and shook her head. "I don't think any of us—"

"Just because you're pretty doesn't mean I won't suspect you!" Garcia interrupted, jabbing a finger in her direction.