For the last 2 years, I have written a story with some sort of link to Christmas. This year, I came up with this one.

It will follow each of the 25 days of December leading up to Christmas, including Christmas Day and Christmas Eve. There is some desecration of religious symbols and I want to get that warning out now. I am Christian, that's why those are the holidays that are easiest and the symbols that are easiest to use. I'm sorry if it offends you, it is not my purpose at all.

Lastly, now that all the depressing stuff is out of the way, there will be some pairings in this. As anyone who has read any of my others stories can attest to, I am a very passionate Morgan-Garcia shipper. However, I haven't officially decided on the others yet so if you have an idea, let me know. The only one that's going to show up in the early chapters is going to be Morgan and Garcia's.

I lied, one more thing. Because this follows all 25 days, my goal is to have a new chapter up each day, though a couple each day until I catch up.

If you guys don't like it, I won't continue it and start a Christmas story elsewhere, so please review (grins)

December 1, 2007

The clouds were grey, pouring a steady stream of snow down onto the quiet grounds of Quantico, but it went virtually unnoticed in the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI. In fact, very few things were going to penetrate the supreme concentration of the team of six as they pushed through the administration that came with their jobs.

Dr Spencer Reid looked up as a ball of paper bounced off the top of his head, glaring at the chocolate man kitty-corner from his desk. "Thanks, Morgan," he glowered.

Derek Morgan just laughed, crumpling another page and aiming this time for his sometimes-partner Emily Prentiss' garbage can on the other side of her body. "Awe, come on, Reid. Stop being a party pooper."

Emily jumped as the paper hit home and sighed as she leaned back from her desk. "Give him a break, Morgan. We've been slipping him files for the last two days, the least we can do is give him peace and quiet while he works on them."

Reid blinked once at this new revelation before returning to glaring at both of them. "That's not fair."

"What's not fair?" blond-haired Jennifer Jareau asked as she entered the bullpen, leaning against the side of Reid's desk just behind the genius' right shoulder.

"They've been slipping me file!" Reid exclaimed before Emily or Morgan could protest or lie.

JJ laughed. "Of course they are. Isn't it weird that you have to fill out questions regarding the press releases or press conferences from the last case?"

"You've been doing it too!"

JJ looked to Morgan and Emily. "Thirteen in two days."

Emily sighed. "Eight. It's so much harder when the man sits right across from you."

"Except I've been giving you plenty of chances," Morgan responded. "And I win with sixteen."

Both women groaned as they handed over a ten-dollar bill each.

"How does he do it?" Emily asked, very reluctantly parting with her money.

"That's not fair!" Reid repeated looking forlornly at his large pile of brown stamped folders.

"Judging by that snowstorm Morgan and Emily will be asking for them back any minute," came the knowing voice of the head of their team, Aaron Hotchner. "It doesn't look like anyone here is going to get home tonight."

Everyone sighed or groaned, eyes now fixed on the snow that had previously gone unnoticed.

"It's not like I have anything against snow," Emily said. "I love skiing, but I hatebeing stuck at work."

"I'm a snowboarding type of girl," JJ agreed. "But this much snow is going to make it hell to get out of here, whether it's late tonight or tomorrow morning."

"You snowboard, JJ?" Morgan asked.

"You sound surprised."

Morgan shrugged. "Just something I didn't know about you, up there with your love for collecting butterflies. What about you, Reid?"

"I'm not athletic," came the prompt reply, brown eyes fixed back on the files and only absently paying attention to the conversation around him.

"What are we talking about? Ooh! Look at the snow!"

Morgan chuckled at Penelope Garcia's childhood glee as she perched herself on the uncomfortable arm of his desk chair, eyes fixated on the windows and white sheet outside. "Skiing, snowboarding…"

Garcia wrinkled her nose distastefully. "So mature. I'm the good old fashioned snow fight type, thanks. And building snow people."

"Did you know that building snowmen is a tradition that dates back to the Middle Ages? Men used to build them after the first snowfall but it's mainly been restricted to Western cultures and those in the northern hemisphere—"

"Ah so there is some humanity in our little Dr Reid," Garcia teased. "I wasn't sure you'd have any information on snow people."

Reid blushed. "I read a lot," he mumbled.

"We know," the team chorused.

"What are we supposed to do now? I mean all the paperwork is done, except for Reid, we have no cases…" Morgan said, twisting a pen in his hands.

A junior agent came rushing forward, a white envelope clutched in his hands. "Agent Hotchner! This came for you this morning, it was just processed." With a shaking hand he held it out for Hotch.

The envelope was embossed with snowflakes and the address was typed in block letters: 'BAU, Quantico VA'. The paper inside was embossed with the same snowflakes, words printed in the same block lettering:

Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

It doesn't show signs of stopping
And we've brought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

This is the beginning…