My first fanfic :) I hope you enjoy. If you do, review and I'll continue.
"Family is just accident... They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are." -Marsha Norman
General POV:
Aubree Moore sat restlessly in the lobby of the BAU headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. She repeatedly crossed and uncrossed her legs, a sign of her uneasiness.
The twenty-four year old tugged at a piece of her curly black hair, watching the elevator doors intently. So intently, in fact, that she missed the young blonde woman who appeared in front of her.
"Ms. Moore?" Spoke the blonde.
Aubree looked up, meeting the blonde's eyes. "Yes?"
"I'm Jennifer Jareau. We spoke on the phone."
Recognition presented itself on Aubree's face as her eyes widened. "Of course. Thank you for meeting with me, Jennifer." Her words were barely audible, rushed together and nearly silent.
Jennifer smiled regardless. "Your welcome. I understand you are here to meet with one of the agents."
"Yes. A David Rossi, I believe."
"Come with me, I'll show you to him." Jennifer said, guiding Aubree to Rossi's desk. "I know it's none of my business, but might I ask what you're business with SSA David Rossi is?" She asked, eyeing the young woman suspiciously.
Aubree took a deep breath. "Not to be rude, Miss Jareau, but you were correct in your assumption that it was none of your business."
Jennifer looked as if the young lady in front of her had sprouted another head. "Well, alright then." The tone of her voice suggested she was annoyed, but Aubree had other things on her mind than whether or not she had insulted the woman standing before her.
Aubree followed Jennifer up a set of stairs in front of an office with a door plate labeled 'David Rossi'.
Jennifer knocked on the door a few times before looking at Aubree. "I'm sorry, I believe he's in a meeting at the moment. You could wait here, or come back later if you'd like."
Aubree looked at the door, then at Jennifer. "No, it's fine. I'll wait here. Thank you, Jennifer." Jennifer gave a curt nod and left Aubree alone in front of the office.
-Down in the bullpen-
"Who's that?" Morgan asked, looking at JJ as she came down the stairs, files in hand.
"Someone here to see Rossi." She said with a shrug.
Morgan nodded, looking back at the young woman standing in front of Rossi's door, uncomfortable from the looks of it. "You get a name?"
"Aubree Moore."
Morgan nodded again, returning to the stack of paperwork flooding his desk.
-In front of Rossi's office-
Aubree dug her toe into the carpet subconciously, staring at the office door in front of her.
For the second time that day, Aubree had been too lost in her own thoughts to notice someone trying to get her attention.
"Ma'am? Ma'am?" A male voice shook Aubree out of her trance.
"Yes?" She replied, looking at the man. Stocky, a little on the short side. Late forties to early fifties. Graying hair. Brown eyes. Some sort of mustache-attached-to-beard thing going on.
"Do you need something?" He asked, his voice stern.
"Yes, actually. I'm looking for a David Rossi."
"Well, you've found him."
Aubree nodded nervously. "Um, sir, could we talk in your office?"
"I suppose." Rossi answered, unlocking the door and gesturing her inside. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
She watched as he walked over to his desk. She sat in one of the office chairs seated in front of him. "Aubree. Aubree Moore." He nodded, leaning over his desk and offering his hand. She shook it akwardly.
"So what did you need to see me about, Ms. Moore?"
Aubree took a deep breath, not prepared for the conversation. "Um, Mr. Rossi, sir, I'm... I'm really not sure how to put this, but I... I-I'm.." She stuttered, losing her train of thought.
"Yes, Ms. Moore?" His words were calm, but his voice was impatient.
"I'm..." She closed her eyes, mustering up the courage to tell him. "I... I'm looking for a job." She bit her lip, knowing this was not what she had come here for. She hadn't intended to ask for a job. But she couldn't do this. She couldn't tell him right now.
"Aren't you a little young?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Well, yes. No. Maybe. Twenty-one. Which, is young I suppose, but I graduated early. High school at sixteen, and I've already got abachelor's degree in sociology and criminal justice and a year in the L.A.P.D." Rossi looked at the girl. She certainly wasn't dressed for a job interview. Skinny jeans. A yellow tank top. Black leather jacket and black leather flats.
"Ms., you do realize that I'm not in charge here, right?"
"Yes, but..." She was racking her mind for an excuse. "I know that you've been with the FBI longer than anyone else in the BAU at this point, and I've read all of your books. I thought maybe coming here was a good idea, but you're right. It was stupid, so I'll just be going. Sorry for wasting your time, sir." She walked out of the building, rubbing her arm. She couldn't do this. What did it matter, anyway? She sighed and walked over to where her car was parked. She unlocked the front door of her old yellow Mustang and drove off.
-Down in the bullpen-
Rossi watched as the yound woman rushed out of his office, looking confused. He shook his head, returning to his paperwork. But, if this girl really did want this job... And she sounded qualified. But she seemed so young. With a huff, Rossi dialed the number he'd become familiar enough with in the past few months.
"You've reached the office of the oracle of all things known and unknown. How can I save your ass today?" Garcia answered his call.
"Hi Garcia. I just need you to run a search thing- Or whatever you do." Rossi said, obviously unfamiliar with the technology and termonology. "On an Aubree Moore."
"Victim?"
"No, actually. Just need some information. Can you just gather as much information as you can and send it to me? And let's keep this between us."
"Ooh. Another secret mission. Yeah, I sure can. I'll have it to you in a jiffy. Too-da-loo!" Rossi shook his head at the analyst's behaviour.
-Two hours later-
Rossi checked his e-mail for the tenth time in the last half hour, waiting for that file. Finally, he saw an e-mail from Garcia labeled, 'Aubree Moore'. Rossi clicked on it and opened the attachment.
Name: Aubree Renee Moore
DOB: 5/18/1986
Born: Phoenix, AZ
Age: 24
Address: 1828 N. Amethyst Ln. Quantico, VA Apt. # 19C
Phone Number: 276-182-9103
High School: Graduated from Tolleson High in Phoenix, AZ at age sixteen.
College: Attended four years at Harvard, awarded bachelors degrees in sociology, criminal justice, and journalism with maxima cum laude.
Occupation: Worked with Los Angeles Police Department until resigned in 2010. Currently unemployed.
Parents: Mother, Kimberly Annette Moore - Father, Unknown
-Child Protective Services called in 2002. Found signs of physical abuse. Released out of mothers custody at age seventeen.
Criminal: None.
Sorry, Ross. That was all I could get.
-Garcia out.
Rossi sighed, rereading the information. There was something vaguely familiar about her mother's name. Kimberly Moore... Kim Moore... Aubree Moore... Father unknown...
Rossi's eyes widened, his breathing stopped. No, no. That was completley illogical, it had to be a coincidence. Twenty-four years ago... Bar in Wickenburg...
"Oh my god..." He muttered to himself, then taking notice of Reid's presence in his office.
"Something wrong Rossi?" Reid asked, concern obvious in his voice. Rossi looked at the young genius, letting the information sink in.
Rossi didn't answer, his eyes were distant. He was remembering that night.
-January 2, 1988-
A thirty-one year old David Rossi entered a dive bar in Wickenburg, Arizona after a particularly horrible case. Sixteen young woman raped and killed, their dead bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Luckily, the bastard who did it slipped up, leading Rossi right to him.
David sat in a booth in the corner of the bar, sipping on the beer that a young waitress had handed him, along with her number. He let his mind wander, trying to erase the images he'd seen in the past few days from his mind.
A petite blonde woman wearing a black leather mini skirt and matching jacket approached him. He looked her over. She was short, no taller than 5'3. Shaggy platinum blonde hair that fell right under her jawline and was streaked with chunks of bright red. Her emerald green eyes were lined with thick smudges of black eyeliner. Her pouty lips were painted red, forming an 'o' around the cigarette she was smoking. She took another drag, looking him up and down.
She sat down in the seat in front of him, taking a sip of his beer. "Hi there stranger. I'm Kimberly Moore. Just Kim." Her voice was like bells, high pitched and a major contradiction to her appearance.
"Hi yourself. David Rossi. Just Dave." He replied, absolutley captivated by the woman in front of him.
She smiled, he took notice of the way she bit her lip when she did so.
They continued to make small talk until he grabbed his hand in hers and she leaned over the table, pressing her lips against his for a soft kiss. It soon became more heated, passionate, and they ended up outside of the bar, Kim pressed against the brick wall and Dave pressed against her.
After a while she smiled against his lips, mumbling, "My place or yours?" Rossi broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers and grinning.
"Definitley mine." He answered, leading her to his car, happy for the distraction.
-Present-
Reid looked worried. "Rossi?"
Rossi shook his head. "I need to think. Tell everyone I went to get some air." He left his office, not looking back at Reid. He needed to take a walk.
-Bullpen-
"What was that about?" Morgan asked Reid as he came downstairs. Reid shrugged.
"Rossi was acting weird. He said he needed some air." Derek nodded slowly, finishing the paperwork on his desk.
"So did you see the cutie that was in here earlier?"
Reid raised an eyebrow. "No."
"Oh. Then you missed out, dude. She was smoking. Short, tan, black hair. Only saw her from a distance, but her eyes were something else. Crazy green. Like, the color of emeralds."
"Well, statistically speaking, women of shorter stature have better luck finding a mate. Since most men prefer women shorter than themselves, a petite woman's options in choices of the opposite sex are broadened. Tanned skin is often found more attractive than pale, because it makes a women appear healthier and active. Black hair is often considered-"
"Dude. Stop. My brain is hurting. All I know is, she was hot. G'night kid." Reid gave a slight smile and an akward wave, walking back to his desk and getting ready to leave. He was the last one there, as he had been for the past few months.
He grabbed his messenger bag and mug of coffee, ready to go home and indulge in a few hours of alone time.
Almost out of the building, he ran into someone, both of them falling to the ground and coffee spilling everywhere.
"Shit.. Shit, shit, shit." The woman Reid had run into mumbled, taking off her leather jacket and assessing the damage.
Reid was blushing. He stood up and offered the woman a hand, which she took gladly. "I-I'm so so so-sorry. Do you need any help?" The woman looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his brown ones.
She sighed. "No, it's fine. My fault. I shouldn't walk and read at the same time." She lifted up the book she'd been holding, now soaked with coffee. Reid looked at the book. Flowers For Algernon by Daniel Keyes.
"Really, it was my fault. I should have been paying attention. Nice choice, by the way." He nodded toward the book in her hand.
She smiled. "Thanks. It's my favorite."
"Did you know that it was first written as a-"
"Short story. In 1958. Published in the April 1959 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Won the Hugo Award for Best Short Story in 1960. Novel was published 1966 by Harcourt Brace and won the Nebula Award for Best Novel. It's been published in over thirty countries, sold more than five million copies, and been translated into almost thirty languages. It's written in epistolary style. Contains two hundred and seventy-four pages." She took a breath after she finished.
Spencer's eyes were wide, his mouth open slightly. "W- Wow."
She shrugged. "I told you. It's my favorite book."
He nodded slowly. "So what were you doing here, anyway?"
"I came here earlier. Left my purse in David Rossi's office. Just needed to get it."
"Actually, he left earlier. His office is locked. If you come back tomorrow I'm sure you'll be able to get it." She pursed her lips.
"I don't think that's such a good idea. Isn't there any way you could get into his office?" Her green eyes were pleading. Reid finally made the connection, this must have been the girl Morgan had seen earlier. He was right, she was beautiful. Wide green eyes the precise shade of emeralds. Pouty, full lips that were never fully closed. Adorable nose. She was definitley short, no taller than 5'3. Her skin was tan, almost caramel-colored. Her black hair was loosely curled, reaching the middle of her back.
"I-I do-don't have th-the key. I'm sorry."
"I understand. Anyway, I'm Aubree Moore." She extended her hand, then, realizing it was covered in coffee, she pulled it back.
"Spencer Reid."
"Well, I better get going. Sorry about the fall." Aubree laughed nervously and, with a small wave, turned and left. She decided she would come and get her purse tomorrow.
Spencer just nodded, dazed and confused. He threw his coffee in the garbage and followed her out.
He pulled on his sweater as the October breeze sent shivers through his body. He looked at Aubree once more who was getting in the driver's seat of a 1973 yellow Ford Mustang convertible. She looked awfully familiar. Not that he'd seen her before, just that she reminded him of someone he knew.
He shook his head, walking towards his house. He could think about it more later.
-Meanwhile-
David Rossi hung up the phone, his conversation with Hotch had ended. He picked up the sticky note on his desk, dialing the ten digits that he had written earlier that day.
The phone rang several times before Aubree picked up. "Hello?"
"Ms. Moore?"
"Yes?"
"It's SSA David Rossi. You asked me about a job earlier."
"Listen, I said that I was wrong. It was stupid, I'm sor-"
Rossi cut her off. "No, no. Listen, I just talked with my superior. He saw your file, and thinks you're qualified for the job. If you really want this job, it's yours."
Aubree didn't answer for a while, thinking. After a few minutes of silence, she said, "Sure. That's be wonderful." Her voice was steady.
"Great. You start tomorrow, seven AM sharp."
"Alright. Oh, and I left my purse in your office this morning, so tomorrow..."
"I'll give it back to you, Ms. Moore."
"Okay. See you tomorrow, Agent Rossi. Thank you again."
"Your welcome, Agent Moore. I will see you tomorrow."
Aubree hung up the phone, wondering whether or not she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.
A/N: I really hope people like this. If you do, review. If you have any constructive criticism (Aka: Non-Flames.) then leave a review.