Work Text:
Penelope let out a squeal of delight. Outside the window, snowflakes fell. Large, fluffy flakes. Perfect for a snowball fight, if she could find willing victims. After a quick glance in the bullpen revealed she was the first one in, she made her way outside, bundled in her coat, scarf, hat and gloves. One by one, she made her ammunition, occasionally tipping her head back to catch snowflakes on her tongue.
When Hotch arrived wearing his typical stern expression, Garcia debated lobbing a snowball at his head. A smile from him would be worth any retribution. She took aim and let the snowball fly. The satisfying sound of a well-aimed snowball hitting its target coupled with "Who threw that?" elicited a smile from her. She popped her head up to see a snow-covered Hotch with a hint of a smile on his face.
"Garcia!"
She heard the laughter in his voice, followed by the sound of him walking toward her. Garcia bent over to grab another snowball then popped up to toss it, not bothering to aim this time. The next time she popped up, she ended up with a face full of snow.
“Hey, no fair!” she shrieked. The fit of giggles that followed belied her outrage.
Hotch laughed. “Given your two-to-one ratio of successful hits, I think it’s more than fair, Penelope.” He stepped around the barrier and peered at her stack of ammunition. “How many do you have there?”
“Enough to pelt the rest of the team when they arrive.” She flashed him a grin. “If you’re game.”
A mischievous grin on his face, Aaron rubbed his hands together. “Dibs on Rossi.”