Broken Circle
By: Aelia O'Hession
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I am merely borrowing the genius of another for my own sordid needs. Therefore, I own nothing dealing with Criminal Minds.
Chapter 1: Enter
A bright emerald green Toyota Matrix pulls into the driveway of the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. The windows are rolled down, allowing the light breeze to filter through the cabin. It is a brilliant spring day in April; the cherry blossoms are in full fervor and the land is green and lush. This sort of environment evokes a sense of nostalgia for the driver of the car. It is a landscape that this driver has not seen in many years. Indeed, the mere fact that the license plate of the car says Louisiana suggests this.
The driver, a young woman in her middle twenties, pulls into a visitor parking space and cuts the engine. When she opens the door, the first thing that emerges are her feet, shod in delicate stiletto heels in black. From her feet, long white legs disappear underneath the hem of her knee-length overcoat. She emerges, adjusting her sunglasses and giving her mane of vibrant flame red waves of hair a shake for good measure. With confidence and authority, her heels click on the pavement as she walks towards the front door.
Inside, she goes through the customary security checkpoint with little hindrance. With an air of normalcy and calm, despite the bustling environment of the FBI, she walks over to the front desk, stiletto heels still clicking on the marble floor.
"Hello, can I help you?" a desk attendant, about the same age as our young woman, asks.
"I have a meeting with the Director," the flame haired woman says in a rich alto voice.
"If you could just sign in, I'll get you a visitor's pass." The attendant thrusts a sign-in book underneath the visitor's nose, and a pen follows.
Brialyn O'Connor is the name which the woman signs in a curving font.
The desk attendant, her blonde curls bouncing on her head, looks down at the sigh-in book. "Are you here for an interview Miss O'Connor?"
Brialyn peers at the attendant through her sunglasses. "I am here on business," is her simple, curt reply.
Instead of deterring the bubbly attendant, her words pique the young bubblehead's curiosity. "Oh! How mysterious." She walks around from behind the desk and hands the visitor's pass to Brialyn. "I'm Emily, but call me Emmy." She thrusts a hand which contains fingernails painted in a painfully fluorescent pink. "I'll be taking you to the Director's office. Follow me."
Behind the sunglasses, Brialyn rolls her eyes at Emmy. Why, out of all the people in the FBI, did she have to be stuck with Suzy Sunshine? Picking up her leather briefcase from the floor, she follows the annoying ray of sunshine, heels nearly clicking her annoyance at her guide.