Hotchniss One-Shots

prank war

AN: if any of you are a fan of Taylor Swift, I've started a oneshot series for each album!!

all eleven albums have been published, more coming soon xx

also check out my new book Onyx for another read, first 8 chapters are now available!

.............

The bullpen was unusually quiet for mid-morning—no cases, no urgent emails, not even a single mysterious voicemail demanding immediate attention. Normally, the hum of activity, phone rings, and keyboard clicks filled the open space, but today, it felt like the BAU was a waiting room for a very bored police department. Hotch stood by his desk, reviewing a stack of paperwork with the kind of focus that usually kept the team in line. He glanced up occasionally at the others, who were each finding their own ways to stave off boredom.

Reid and Morgan were huddled near Emily's desk, whispering conspiratorially, and Emily, unsuspecting, was typing away, headphones in. Hotch noticed Reid's sly glance and Morgan's smirk and felt a twinge of warning. Something was brewing, and if his experience taught him anything, it wasn't going to be quiet.

"You're both plotting something," Hotch said, voice calm but edged with warning.

Morgan's grin widened. "Oh, come on, Hotch. It's just a harmless bit of fun. Besides, she'll love it."

"Love it?" Hotch muttered under his breath, already sensing trouble.

Emily was completely unaware until a soft squelch echoed under her chair when she shifted slightly. Her chair had been swapped with a squeaky one that made every tiny movement sound like a foghorn. She froze, pulling her headphones out.

"Uh... what is happening?" she asked, looking around.

Reid tried—and failed—not to laugh. "Maybe it's... a new ergonomic model," he suggested with innocent eyes, which only made Emily narrow hers.

Morgan leaned closer, still grinning. "Or maybe it's... a little experiment." He gestured vaguely to the chair, giving nothing away.

Emily stood, testing the chair suspiciously. "Experiment? On me?" Her tone was playful but sharp, and Hotch raised an eyebrow from across the room.

"You've been a little too comfortable lately," Reid said, chuckling nervously, "so we thought a tiny... adjustment might help."

Emily rolled her eyes, a mischievous glint appearing. "Adjustment, huh? Oh, you're going to regret this." She leaned down, inspecting the chair, pretending to write mental notes. "Just wait."

Hotch's gaze softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. There was a tension in the room, the kind that came when Emily was amused—and planning retaliation. He knew her too well to underestimate that look.

Reid and Morgan, meanwhile, were quietly high-fiving each other under the desks, whispering about how brilliant the prank was. It was harmless, a classic Reid-and-Morgan-style setup, but it had opened a door they didn't realize Emily would walk straight through.

She spun back to her desk dramatically, brushing imaginary dust off her hands. "I'll get you back for this. Oh, I will." Her tone was half-threat, half-laughter.

Hotch suppressed a sigh. Not that he didn't enjoy the occasional harmless fun, but somehow, when Emily was involved, things always escalated faster than he expected. He caught her eyes from across the room, and for a fleeting second, the usual seriousness of his expression softened. That glint in her eyes meant war—and he was quietly intrigued.

By mid-morning, the stage was set. Morgan was already whispering to Reid about possible counterattacks, and Emily was plotting her response, smirking at the idea. Hotch returned to his paperwork, though his mind was not entirely on the forms in front of him. Somewhere beneath the calm exterior, he knew this was the beginning of something that would make the next few days anything but dull.