a/n- Hello guys and girls! This is something I started a long time ago, forgot about, and recently came back to and edited. I have the first three chapters written, which is good because it means by the time I have to start writing for this story, BAU: Lost in London should be all wrapped up. Also, just a thank you to all the adorable people at the CBS forums who really encouraged me to put this up. They're all total sweethearts! So yes, this is a funny little tale about what happens at work when the team don't have a case. Please let me know what you think!

Emily Prentiss, International Super Sleuth

Emily is a woman on a mission. Armed with only her phone and texting abilities, she's determined to get to the bottom of a couple of mysteries floating around the bullpen. How did Reid's date go? What's up with Rossi? Most importantly, who stole her salad? So much to find out and so little time, all while surviving what might be the world's most boring Health and Safety seminar.

1. What Not To Date & Strauss's Suspicions

So, I'd had a date the night before. It was bad. I am talking majorly bad. I am talking the kind of guy who was so narcissistic, creepy, manipulative, and downright greasy that he'd practically fallen out of the 'What Not To Date' manual that Garcia had written for me and had Morgan illustrate. Yes, apparently I require one of these. Although I've got to admit, it's been pretty helpful.

Anyway, the night before had been disastrous, and had ended with me handing the waiter my share of the bill, and slipping out of the backdoor to escape. Thank god it wasn't the bathroom window this time, which just never ends well. Scraped knees and all that. So, to summarise before I ramble further, the date sucked and I escaped back to my apartment, consulted the manual, vowed never to disobey it again, decided that this was my last blind date ever, and went to bed. Sucky night or not, this girl's still got to get up for work, right?

The alarm went; I dragged myself out of bed, showered, downed ungodly amounts of caffeine etc, and rushed to the office. Bang on time, as usual. I may never manage to make it anywhere early, but at least I'm never late, that's for sure. I slid into my desk, and was greeted by Reid throwing a file to me, Frisbee-style. On it was a little post it note with 'Prentiss: Must try harder' scrawled in the good doctor's handwriting. Damn, guess Morgan's new system for slipping files into Reid's stack wasn't working. Worth a shot though!

I was about to apologise via a paper airplane when the Strauss walked in. Deciding that text was probably a better way to go, I tapped one out and sent it.

[PRENTISS] Sorry! Can't believe you busted us, Morgan thought the new system was bulletproof.

[REID] The new system was blatantly obvious, and Morgan needs acting lessons. I walked in on him trying to plant the offending items in my drawer, and he told me that he was checking for fire ants.

I winced as I read it. Well that had to be Morgan's worst lie ever. It was possibly just the worst lie ever, Morgan's or not. I knew I should have been the one to put the stupid files in the drawer. You see, we've finally worked out Reid's filing system (trust me; you don't want me to explain it. Advanced Calculus is easier to fathom) and so we revelled in our new ability to offload work without begging. Except now our cover was blown, the secret was out, the chicken had leapt out of the bag and the cat had flown the coop.

[PRENTISS] Note to self, never let Morgan lie. Ever. Especially not to a profiler.

[REID] You're telling me, he spent the entire sentence trying not to giggle.

[PRENTISS] Strauss is giving us the hairy eyeball. Back to work!

Our beloved director had become increasingly suspicious of the phone use in the bullpen. I mean, she was right on the money to be fair; we were using them to talk to each other. This was a recent development, and was due to Garcia (unwillingly) informing us that the bureau's 'techsperts' could, and often did, go through our emails.

After we'd all finished threatening legal action, we stopped sending emails for anything other than strictly professional purposes. However, it left a gap. Between the cases, there's a whole lot of paper work around here, and sometimes you need insane and/or idle chatter to make it through. So Garcia (feeling bad about the email incident) dug around online and hooked us all up with this sweet unlimited texts contract. Hence the rising amount of phone usage and Strauss's rising suspicions.

Half an hour or so later, I felt my little black phone buzz in my jacket pocket.

[MORGAN] Did Hotch get us out of that seminar?

[PRENTISS] Shit, I forgot about that. I have no idea?

[MORGAN] Man, I hope so. I can't believe we'd have to sit through it again; we've already done the damn thing.

I looked up to see Hotch beckoning to us all into his office.

[PRENTISS] Guess we'll find out now.

I quickly sent my reply, and all three of us walked over to Hotch's office.

"Anyone have any idea what this is about?" Reid muttered to me.

I looked up at him. "Seminar." I replied simply, and none too joyfully. He groaned in response, the seminar was now infamous around these parts.

"The Health and Safety one, from last month?"

Morgan nodded. "The very same." He answered dryly. Reid rolled his eyes in response.

Personally, I completely seconded that motion. Who kept coming up with these idiotic things? It was an afternoon completely wasted; you sat there and let them tell you things that anyone with even an iota of common sense already knows.

We were joined by the other three along our travels, JJ, Garcia and Rossi.

"Seminar?"

"The one and only."

"Doesn't look like any of us are getting out of it."

"Personally, I'm excited!" We all turned to stare at Garcia in disbelief. Yes, she was perky and more then a tad eccentric, but this was taking the whole 'kooky' angle a bit too far.

"...Sarcasm guys. Jeez, call yourselves profilers?" Morgan gave her a playful swipe on the arm, and chuckling, we entered Hotch's office.

The room was fairly large, and extremely neat (not, for instance, like a certain agent's that I could mention. Just saying'. No names. Definitely mentioning no names here... JJ. A couple of small children and several woodland creatures have entered her office and never been seen again), but not in an obsessive way. Very tasteful, a couple of awards are hung on the wall, and his desk has one picture of Jack in a plain frame.

Hotch was waiting for us, and he didn't look like he was about to hand us bags of lollipops and rainbow kittens.

Rossi grimaced. "We're taking the course, aren't we?"

Hotch gave us an apologetic look, and it was then that I knew how we were spending the afternoon. Crap. I'd been hoping to use it to finish up my file on the Allen case, but I was pretty sure that I could kiss that idea a sweet goodbye.

"I'm sorry, I tried. I explained several times that you'd all completed it last month, but apparently they've added half an hour of new material. I asked if you could just attend the last half an hour, but apparently that's not acceptable. I know you've all got better things to do, but I just don't see a way around it. I ask that you attend, and pay attention to the last half hour."

"Not the rest of it?"

"Do as you see fit. Just... quietly. We already have something of a reputation around here, try not to add to it?"

We all nodded, and headed back to try and get some work done, seeing as this afternoon was a write off. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. At least I'd get to go home on time!