Note: Just a bit of fluff :)

"This is so not going to end well." Spencer Reid watched aghast as The Prophet emerged from their office with a fedora, grinning like a maniac.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the BAU and NCIS, we are now in business," he announced, coming down the stairs waving the hat around. The three 'contestants' on the center mat eyed the older federal agent as he made his way to the bleachers.

"You're a brave man, Simms," Agent Beth Griffith said dryly. "Taking Cooper's hat like that takes guts."

"Relax. I'll put it back when we're done," Prophet replied, "We're just using it to collect money." He fished out his wallet from his back pocket and quickly placed a bill on the 'pot'. "My fiver goes to Mick."

"Might as well," Beth dropped five dollars in as well.

"Thanks mate," The Brit maybe- ex-special- forces- turned -FBI- agent gave his team mate a confident wink as he continued stretching his limbs.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Emily Prentiss commented wryly, placing a bill on the pot as well.

"Is that for me?" Mick Rawson asked cockily.

"Morgan," she replied with equal pomp. Spencer saw Agent Rawson feign getting stabbed in the heart much to the amusement of one Derek Morgan across the mat.

"Don't worry, Rawson. I've got your back," Agent Lasalle said putting in her five bucks as well.

"To my Chocolate Thunder. Go get them tiger!" Garcia cheered, putting her money in.

"Thanks Baby Girl." Morgan shot her an appreciative smile.

"This is so wrong," Spencer Reid quietly commented as the hat went to the lap of their newest member, Ashley Seaver.

He sat stiffly when an arm went around his shoulder, the owner sitting down on the bench beside him. "It's just for fun, man. Loosen up. It's like that show Iron Chef. Which agency reigns supreme," NCIS Agent Tony Dinozzo said imitating what Reid could only guess was a character from the said show.

"You know, Spencer might have a point Tony," Agent Mcgee thankfully agreed with him. "I mean, what would boss say when he learns that Ziva-," he pointed to the only female on the mat, "- that Ziva did all of this."

"Come on, McDowner," Dinozzo replied rolling his eyes. "This is Ziva we're talking about. They don't stand a chance." He tossed a fiver into the hat sitting on Seaver's lap.

"True." And with a sigh, the second NCIS agent placed his money into the pot.

"Go Ziva!" Abby clapped her hands with delight.

Ashley Seaver eyed the pot skeptically, briefly raising her gaze to the contestants then back to the pot again. "Morgan,... I guess," she said with uncertainty as she put in her money.

The hat was passed on to him. Spencer Reid just stared at the fedora's contents with a mix of shock and disgust. How did they even get to this point? He was suppose to watch the Firefly marathon with physicists commentating with Tim McGee and Abby Scuito, for heaven's sakes. Seaver found out and decided to join in, which he didn't mind at all. To his understanding of McGee's narration, Dinozzo and Ziva came along to see the new recruit. Ziva was the one who later mentioned that Tony came because somehow the man heard that Ashley Seaver was a looker. Emily joined because she was bored, which prompted Derek to join because, apparently, he had nothing better to do. And of course, where Morgan was , there's a big chance Garcia would be him.

They didn't even get past dessert when Ziva and Morgan got into the conversation of the pros and cons of judo. The argument got quite heated. And when Morgan finally said, "Maybe I'll show you sometime," and Ziva gamely replied with an "How about now?", Spencer knew their original Firefly plans would be delayed. Emily called Mick, knowing that the other BAU team operated out of a gym they could probably use...

Looking at how things were now, it wasn't a delay any longer. They were definitely not going to get to watch Firefly tonight.

Still, how they went from Firefly to Fight Club...

"You going to place a bet or what?" Prophet asked.

"Am I the only one who thinks this is utterly ridiculous?" he asked the three team group gathered. "Not only are we not watching a pretty good space western, we're also in a gym betting on.. on... something that doesn't even make sense!" he exclaimed. "I mean we walk away from our latest respective unsubs unscathed just to fight each other? Really? That's what you guys want to do with your night?"

"Reid, you do know this isn't a fight to the death..." Emily replied slowly.

"I know that Emily. It just doesn't make sense for them to fight at all," he argued quickly.

"Aw, youngster, it's just for fun," Morgan urged.

"Fun and free drinks," Rawson added.

"Just serving the FBI a piece of modest pie," Ziva said.

"Humble pie, Ziva," McGee corrected. "The saying is a piece of humble pie."

"So are you going to cheer your guy on or what, genius?" Delasalle inquired.

Spencer Reid frowned but took out a five dollar bill and dropped it in reluctantly. "This is not going to end well," he grumbled.

"You didn't say who you're betting for, Spencer," Abby Scuito pointed out.

"Well isn't it obvious that he's going to bet on Derek?" Ashley Seaver answered tentatively, still obviously wary that she was still finding her footing in this crowd.

"Actually, Ashley, I've betting on Agent David."

Spencer Reid knew it was physically impossible but he could've sworn that the world just stopped turning then and there. "WHAT?" the three ladies of his team exclaimed at the same time.

"Way to bite the hand that feeds you, Reid," Beth Griffith commented dryly

"No offense guys, but if I have to bet at all, I might as well bet smart. Agent David is not only ex Mossad but she's also so obviously female. There's a strong chance that Mick and Morgan may take it easy on her just on that fact alone, whether it's a conscious effort or not," he defended himself automatically. "No man likes hitting a girl."

"Oh ho ho," Dinozzo mocked, standing with his both arms in the air acting victoriously. "I do believe the genius has spoken. This battle has been won. NCIS, baby."

"Tony, we're kind of outnumbered here," Tim McGee warned his gloating partner.

"Whatever. That's the way he wants to bet, that's the way he wants to bet. He's from Vegas," Prophet said, raising his voice above the coming objections. "The money's in the pot. I say, let's get this show started," he said, as he backpedalled backwards to referee.

Spencer shot his team an apologetic look. But what he caught instead were not the rolling eyes of Morgan's number one fan Penelope Garcia, or the understanding look of Emily Prentiss or even the uneasy shrug of Ashley Seaver. Instead, what he saw was Gina Delasalle's eye growing wide and panicked as she reached out into the air infront of her. "SIMMS!" she shouted out in warning.

Too late.

Spencer hurriedly turned his head just to see Prophet fall backwards, the back of his ankle hitting a medicine ball lying around. Five dollar bills swayed gently in the air as they came down on the older man. But what distressed Reid most of all that Agent Simms' arm seemed to have landed on top of the fedora squishing it flat onto the mat.

"Shit!" Rawson's curse crisply echoed against the walls of the suddenly silent gym. "Cooper's hat!"

Reid sighed. "This is definitely not going to end well."