A/N: This is written in response to the fanfic challenge, round two. The pairing is Erin Strauss and Dr. Reid, and the movie prompt is "The Devil Wears Prada". This is my first time doing this so please let me know what you think : ) I don't have a Beta, so all errors are my own.
Disclaimer: I don't own it, or them. It would be a different show if I did. : )
The sound resonated throughout the bullpen becoming sharper and louder as the echo in the hallway drew near. It was a very distinct noise, causing the low buzzing of voices and the ringing of telephones to become merely white noise in the background. It was the sound of a pair of size ten Manolo Blahniks clicking against linoleum. It was the sound of Satan in heels, otherwise known as the unwanted arrival of Chief Erin Strauss.
As she slithered through the BAU doors and ascended the stairs, he watched the inevitable effect that her unfortunate appearance had on his colleagues. Garcia quickly scurried away taking her exuberance and cheerfulness with her. He couldn't hold his colleague culpable for her speedy departure. Fight or flight. Survival of the fittest, it was a natural reaction to a predator such as the chief. Erin Strauss was like a carnivore who fed off of the happiness of others. She didn't stop until she sucked every ounce of unadulterated joy from anyone she came into contact with. She was especially frustrated that she could never deflate the red head's positivity, and apparently she wasn't bright enough to realize that she never would. He leaned against his desk, crossing his arms around his lanky form and listened to the blond and the brunette's gossiping. They spun their various speculations about why Strauss made an appearance, and critiqued her ill fitting, ridiculously expensive designer suit. He, like his male colleagues eyed their boss' office, watching through the glass windows as she waved her arms about in a theatrical flourish before pointing down at the bull pen.
The discussion between the two seemed to have continued for some painstakingly long amount of time before she pointed down at them once more. This could not be good. His Adam's apple bobbed as he nervously swallowed with much effort on his part. Why was she pointing in their direction once again? It was no secret that she had it in for his colleagues, each and every one of them and she would stop at nothing to annihilate them, or whatever else it took. He and his colleagues were chess pieces, used and played in despicable ways in order to defeat their boss, whom she deemed an opponent of sorts.
He frantically looks behind him for some sort of support as he's called up to the office. The exchanged glances ranging from sympathy to pity do nothing to quell the growing nervousness and irritation welling up inside of him. He silently nods in acknowledgement as Hotch pats him reassuringly on the back before closing the door behind him, effectively trapping him in the godforsaken office with Satan herself. No, this definitely was not good. This was indeed the antithesis of good.
She slinks over to the desk, the very desk that she makes her life mission to acquire, and she sinks down in the chair unable to conceal her contentment at being in that exact spot, but not before he hears the clicking. The clicking of those heels, like nails against a chalkboard, assaulting his ears and grating his nerves and the nervousness he felt disintegrates, leaving only the irritation and the hatred. He never truly loathed a person in his life; his mother raised him better than that. While he had many reasons to truly despise an individual or two throughout his life, his father, his tormentors, even the unsubs he chased after, he didn't….until he met her. His initial response to her was that in which she tried to invoke, intimidation. That however changed over time to truly loathing this creature before him. She brought out the darker side of him, the cynical, snarky part of him that had no respect whatsoever for the ridiculous title she held, and the more she came around the harder it became to suppress the sarcastic retorts that circulated through his mind.
"Dr. Reid," she breathed, though it may as well have been a hiss that broke him out of his reverie.
"Chief Strauss," he returned the formality whilst fighting the urge to roll his eyes at her fraudulent attempt at being polite.
"My apologies for pulling you away from your work, Dr. Reid, but I had a request… a rather personal request," she began.
He nodded at her and tucked his hair behind his ear, throwing her a tight smile. His mind raced with all the possibilities. He was familiar with these personal requests, as Strauss preferred to label them, usually they had some direct or indirect way of getting her one step closer to her desired goal, and he for one did not want anything to do with it. He wanted to tell her as much, tell her that she could slink back to the fiery pits of hell where she belonged, tell her that prior to knowing her, he was (as most scientific men such as himself) a non believer, but if he could believe that she was Satan than that had to be some confirmation that there was a God. He wanted to tell her that the team was the closest thing he had, and probably would have to a family and that his job was his life and that he was disgusted with how she continually tried to demolish both, and if she knew anything about nature she would know that you never attack an individual's family, it would elicit dangerous consequences. He wanted to explain to her "The Art of War" so that maybe, just maybe, she could comprehend a more effective way of winning against one's opponent, he'd certainly have more respect for her if she didn't revert to Kindergarten tactics. He wanted to startle her to her very core by giving her a detailed profile of herself, so that she would know why she felt the need to overcompensate for what she perceived as her own inadequacies. He wanted to explain to her Sigmund Freud's Psychosexual Development Theory and what could be said about her being so anal as a result. Instead he continued to nod, continued to cross his arms around his chest awkwardly and give her the same tight lipped smile.
"I just….uhhh. Well, Dr. Reid, I just need you to address a matter, a personal matter," She raised her chin in an effort to appear confident, but the fiddling she was doing with her fingers and that incessant tapping of her foot on the floor, told him she was anything but.
"What matter is that Ma'am?" he inquired relishing in the fact that Strauss was capable of squirming. A fact he would enjoy sharing with the others.
"It was to my understanding," she paused hesitantly. "It was to my understanding that you hold a Doctorate in Physics, and I was wondering, if by chance, you could assist my youngest son…he's doing a paper on Quantum Physics, and…" her voice trailed off and her lips turned downwards, clearly displeased with having to ask for a genuine favor for a change.
He smiled more genuinely this time, amused and intrigued. Chief Strauss needed a favor from him. It was comical at best that she would ask him for anything given the fact that she despised him and made it abundantly clear. "It would be my pleasure Ma'am," he sputtered.
And it would be his pleasure. He not only got to experience Strauss asking him for a favor, something she probably never thought she'd do in a million years over, but he would have the fortune of literally meeting the spawn of Satan, and he wouldn't pass that opportunity up. After all, if someone was willing to procreate with this woman thrice over than there had to be something good about her that she had not tipped them off on, and being notoriously curious and always hungry for learning more, he wouldn't be himself, let alone a great profiler if he didn't figure it out. He was once again pulled out of his thoughts by that maddening clicking of her heels against the floor as she made her way to the door. He gritted his teeth and cringed as her foot hit each step unbelievably hard and the echoing of her movement pierced his ears as he descended the stairs behind her.