A/N: Hey everyone. I'm trying something new here. This will be a fanfic with a F/F pairing involving Emily Prentiss and an OC, Sam Worchester. I know most people prefer two known character pairings, but I've been thinking about this idea and I figured why not throw it out there? So if you're willing, I have quite the ride set up for you all. I hope you enjoy!
The days always ended the way they began for Emily Prentiss, with a hot cup of coffee and a carefully concealed issue of Cosmo magazine. Except, of course, when they were in the middle of a case, then her days would bookend with nightmares that didn't seem so different from reality. Which, now that she thought about it, happened much more frequently than the coffee-magazine days…
Okay.
So today, the day began the way it ended, which it didn't usually, but that's not the point. The point is that at 7 a.m. on March 12th, Emily sat at her desk, feet up, eyes glazed over while she secretly absorbed articles from a magazine plastered with titles like "5 Ways to Get a Guy to Notice You" and "The Best Sex you Didn't Know You Wanted to Have."
And that's exactly the moment She walked in.
She. As in tall, blonde, and beautiful. Immaculately dressed and immediately imposing, She entered BAU headquarters with her head held high and her briefcase swinging.
Of course, no one was aware enough to greet her.
Instead, the members of the BAU were all too busy in their own sleep-deprived haze to notice that someone had just walked through that front door. Not to mention someone they'd never seen before. Normally, the group handled long hours like it was a walk in the park, but the most recent case had been the last in a back-to-back-to-back blunder of serial killer after serial killer.
This had all compiled into a month where they had logged an amount of miles equivalent to the previous year. During this month they'd eaten more Chinese food, tracked down more killers and filled out more paperwork in less time than any of them could ever recall.
The result? Exhaustion.
A deep and utter exhaustion that hung behind their eyes and weighed down their bones. And with this exhaustion, came all different techniques of dealing with it. Reid resorted to complicated math puzzles, a mind-numbing and, if he may, kindergarten pleasure. JJ knitted, though covertly under her desk where she thought no one could see her (everyone could see her). Derek scrolled through the latest sports scores, all the while fantasizing what it would be like to actually go to the games instead of watching the results pop up on his screen. Hotch loved his New York Times and Emily Prentiss, as mentioned before, read her Cosmo, no, "Time Magazine" in one hand, a coffee balancing in the other.
Meanwhile, the woman stood in the entrance of the BAU headquarters, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner as she observed the scene before her with great precision. Eventually, when and only when she'd gathered what she needed, she began to walk toward Emily Prentiss' desk.
Now, the exact reason for this first move will be heavily debated later on. Some claim that it was the animalistic instinct of attraction that lured her over to the brunette agent's desk first, while others claim it was a tactical move born out of logic and aggression.
But if you asked the woman, Sam her name was, she would tell you it was all because of that Cosmo hidden within the Time binding that intrigued her. That, and the fact that there was just something about the woman holding it.
"Do all FBI profilers refer to Women's Magazines during their jobs?"
"Um, uh…" Emily jumped in her seat, feet thudding to the ground unceremoniously. With a snap shut, she closed the magazine and shuffled around the papers on her desk until it was hidden under a particularly large stack. With a hand resting on her temple, she turned to look at the woman who had caught her in her most vulnerable moment. "No, not usually."
"Ah." The woman raised her eyebrows, a smirk hiding under layers of sternness, "so then I happened to find the only one who does? Lucky me."
Emily's forehead crinkled up, her confidence returning in waves as she adjusted to reality. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
At this point other members of the BAU had glanced up from their various activities in interest. They watched the exchange as one would watch a cage fight between two skilled fighters.
"I'm here to oversee you, to make sure you're doing your job," she paused and looked Emily up and down as if surveying her for weakness, "correctly."
Emily tilted her head, reading the woman's face and sorting out what she suspected to be a lie and what she suspected to be the truth. The only problem was the woman didn't have the time nor desire to be analyzed, so she jumped on the offered pause. "And from what I see here, you ar-"
But before they were able to receive the satisfaction of the first blow, Hotch rushed out from his office. "Sam."
The woman's head tilted up and all traces of confrontation disappeared in an instant. She approached Hotch as an old friend, walking into his outstretched arms comfortably.
"Hotch. It's been so long, but you look great. The BAU treats you well." The transformation of the woman was nothing short of miraculous. She had turned from someone of imposition into a smiling ray of sunshine in just a matter of seconds.
"Yes, well," Hotch smoothed down his suit and quirked a small smile, "I like it here. Wh-" but before he could continue the private conversation, Derek's open hanging mouth caught his eye. It only took several seconds after that to realize that all the members of the BAU were staring at the two of them intently.
"Oh. I'm sorry," he said, turning to everyone, "this is Sam Worchester. She's the Assistant Director of the International Operations Division."
Emily dropped her head even further into her palm, her eyes squeezing shut tight, all the while wishing the predicament she had previously found herself in was nothing more than a very bad dream.
"Every couple of years the FBI does a counter-evaluation of sorts to make sure each of the divisions are running smoothly. They usually send in someone from the outside to stay with us for a month or two, but," he turned and looked at Sam, "I suppose they figured they could trust your…honest opinion."
Sam tilted her head back and laughed a throaty chuckle, "Yes. I guess that's what they would call it."
Hotch laughed with her and still, the members of the BAU stared on with disbelief. Not only was Hotch smiling, and laughing, and hugging, he was conversing with this woman as if they belonged in their own little world.
Reid was the first to speak up, "I don't understand what you mean by that."
Sam turned to Reid, "I have a reputation in the field for conducting my investigations very bluntly. I use only facts, and I use them well. I don't sugarcoat, I don't do favors, I don't take shortcuts. Something I'm sure you could relate to yourself, Dr. Reid."
"Well, I can see why she and Hotch get along now," Emily mumbled to Derek, who responded with a chuckle.
Reid nodded, "I can, yes. Very much so."
Hotch cleared his throat, "I'd like you to meet the rest of the team. In the back there is Jennifer Jareau. Derek Morgan's over there. You've met Spencer Reid. David Rossi isn't in right now, but you've met before, yes?"
Sam confirmed, "We've crossed paths a few times."
"And last but not least Emily Prentiss," Hotch finished. Emily forced her head up from it's downturned position only to be faced with piercing blue eyes that stared right through her.
"Nice to meet you," Emily tried after clearing her throat of all shame and regret that lingered from their first meeting.
"Yes." Sam said, as she held out her hand, the edge back in her voice, "very nice to meet you."
Emily shook it, all the while watching as a smirk flickered on the corner of Sam's lips. It was confusing, that upturned corner. The way it lifted made Emily feel as though she was being mocked and yet the look in Sam's eyes somehow convinced her that she was not.
"Well," Hotch forced his hands down by his side. "I suppose we'll get you set up in the spare office over here for the time being."
Sam finally broke the eye contact with Emily and dropped her hand. "Sounds great."
They walked to the office and at the click of the door shutting, all hell broke loose in the main room.
"Who was that?" JJ asked in disbelief.
"Sam Worchester. Hotch just told us," Reid answered confusedly.
"No, man," Derek corrected, getting up from his desk. "She means, who the hell was that?"
"I just-" Reid began before tapering off. He'd knew he'd have to wait until his colleagues started speaking in more direct terms before he'd get involved again.
"Did you see what she was wearing?" JJ said to no one in particular.
"Did you see what she looked like?" Derek added as both he and JJ migrated over to Emily's desk where the best view of the spare office was.
"I saw both what she was wearing and what she looked like and I've also determined that she is not a fan of Emily." Reid said in an effort to relate.
JJ and Derek nodded, much to Reid's delight. Meanwhile, Emily was sitting at her desk, both hands holding up her head as she stared into the office, JJ and Derek behind each shoulder.
Through the window in the door, they could see Sam talking to Hotch, apparently catching up on old times as they flipped through several binders that were stacked on her desk.
"Yeah, why is that Emily? What'd you do to the woman?" Derek asked, his eyes still transfixed ahead.
Emily groaned. "Nothing, I didn't do anything. She just walked in and caught me at an...unusual time."
"Oh. Were you reading Cosmo again?" JJ asked.
"Co- What?" Emily choked out. She thought she was being secretive. She had taken every precaution to keep it a secret.
"Cosmo. The magazine. You read it whenever a date goes badly or when I suspect you're feeling lonely," Derek added.
"Which happens to be most of the time we're not on a case, as of late," Reid pointed out factually.
Another groan released out of Emily's mouth. She dropped her head on her desk and mumbled into the wood, "why do I have to work with a bunch of profilers? Why can't you all just be oblivious and self-centered?"
"Don't worry. We get it, Prentiss. Eases the brain from all the deductive reasoning you do on a daily basis. You work harder than anyone, only problem is," JJ sighed and pointed to the occupied office, "she doesn't know that."
Emily followed JJ's finger and once again her eyes caught on the blonde woman still flipping through those binders. She had glasses on now, perched on the edge of her nose as she read the small print, but every time she looked up to talk to Hotch, she pushed those glasses to sit on top of her head, blonde hair flipping out from the sides elegantly.
"You think she and Hotch had a thing way back?" Derek asked, with only a twinge of jealousy present in his voice. "Cause I wouldn't mind moving in on that."
JJ hit Derek's shoulder, an act that Emily would normally do if she wasn't still so mortified. "Such a dog." Derek chuckled as they continued to watch the two interact, their brains spinning as if on a case.
"I don't think so." JJ decided after awhile.
"I concur," Reid added. "They're body language suggests a closeness between them. They leave a decently small amount of personal space but it's still there, as if showing respect to one another."
"And the hug. It was formal, as if they felt it was necessary, but weren't exactly accustomed to touching that intimately," JJ said.
Derek cleared his throat, "Plus, Hotch is definitely a six and she's like, an eleven… I mean look at those legs."
Emily rolled her eyes, slowing coming back to life. She looked up to the man who was practically perched on her shoulder, "Does this work on girls? Dumbing yourself down and becoming a solely physical being?"
A grin from Derek was all Emily needed to confirm.
Just then, Sam looked up from the desk and out of the office window, where she was faced with four pairs of staring eyes.
JJ immediately looked down as if she was reading some paperwork on Emily's desk. Derek just walked away. Reid spun in his chair until he was facing his computer once again, but Emily remained in place, her eyes pinned on the woman as if to say, 'I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.'
And while Hotch continued to explain something in the binders, Sam matched Emily's gaze until the staring match turned from something of confrontation into something of curiosity and then, into something else.
"Sam?"
"Sam?"
Sam tore herself away from the other's agent's gaze and glanced toward Hotch. He looked out the door to see what she was staring at, but was only faced with the downturned heads of all of his agents working.
"I'm sorry. What were you saying?" She asked.
"Oh, well. I just finished going over the procedure, but I'm sure you can read this all on your own time."
"Yes, I think I can manage figuring out the rest. Thank you for all your help, Aaron. You can't imagine how much easier it is knowing someone in the department you're evaluating."
"I can imagine. This is your…fifth evaluation?"
Sam sighed, "Yes. Fifth and hopefully last. I'm telling them I'm closed to this type of business after this one.
"Well, going into various departments and picking apart their daily lives must be exhausting."
"You have no idea."
Hotch put his hands in his pockets and stood up straight, "well you don't have to worry about anything here. You know me, a stickler for the rules."
Sam chuckled, "Yes. Even in college. I think you once told me that drinking under 21 was going to come back and haunt me in my later years."
Hotch smiled. "Well has it?"
"Definitely," Sam grinned. She allowed her eyes to flicker out to the main room once again (though her curiosity longed to do it every other second) only to see that everyone was back to normal, looking down and seemingly working. A flicker of strange disappointment fizzled through her chest.
"So tell me about these people. Are they good agents?"
"Oh, the best. JJ is our communications liaison-"
"JJ?"
"Jennifer, we call her JJ most of the time."
"Got it."
"She's great with the press and the families, our life line to the outer world you could say. Reid's extraordinarily brilliant and tougher than he looks. Derek's the muscle, a great leader and very intuitive. Our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia is the best at what she does."
But Sam's mind was elsewhere. "What about Emily Prentiss?"
Hotch followed Sam's gaze out to Emily's desk. The woman was going through something on her computer and biting on the end of a pen. His eyes flickered back to watch Sam's face, and only once her eyes met his, he spoke.
"She's extremely trust-worthy and yet you'll find it hard to get her to put your trust in you. Competent, level-headed, able to look at a case objectively and stay that way throughout. Emotionally guarded. She's a great agent that does her job well..." Hotch trailed off as he realized that he was not giving Sam what she was apparently looking for.
"A closed book," Sam responded, to which Hotch agreed.
"Yes. You could say that. Although some of the other agents know her pretty well. You could say that she's let some people in the department in to a certain degree."
Sam turned to Hotch, "but not you?"
"No. I would not say that I have been privileged to the inner workings of Emily Prentiss quite yet. What's your reason for asking?"
"No specific reason," Sam answered as she watched Emily tilt her head from side to side, the tendons in her neck stretching pleasantly, "just curious."