My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's,
I'm kind trying out a new writing story. So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)

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Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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Waking up I felt as if I'd been hit by a bus, driven over, backed over, then driven over again as he sped away from the crime scene. I reached out to find the bed beside me cold and unwrinkled. I felt a sudden pang of sadness that David wasn't there next to me and slapped it away as abruptly as it had came. I wasn't allowed to have any feelings towards David, especially not longing or sadness.

As I pushed myself from the covers I hung to the possibility that I couldn't look any worse than I felt.

The mirror told me otherwise. My hair, a gift from my father's part Greek side of the family, resembled a bush, a big black one. The make-up I hadn't bothered to peel off my face the night before had ran and smudged to turn me into a clown moonlighting as a prostitute. Just great.

By the time I had finished taming everything to turn myself back into a normal human being, almost an hour had passed and I had about five minutes to get to work. Just fucking great.

I pressed the elevator button, waited a few seconds and when it didn't come made the split second decision to run down the stairs. I was halfway through the first flight when I heard the ding, signaling the elevator had just arrived at my floor. Too late now. I tried to talk myself into believing I needed the exercise anyway. It was a nice idea, but I wasn't buying it.

Once upon a time my mother had lectured me on the importance of punctuality, it had been a skill she had processed in the bucket loads and that had obviously skipped my generation. She'd told me no matter what I did, as long as I tried my hardest and was always on time, I would succeed. I liked to think I'd succeeded pretty well without always being dead on time.

I ran out to the carpark and found my BOS golf sitting waiting for me. The sun was beating down and I could already feel the burning heat that would welcome me when I opened the car door.

I turned the key the first notch and flicked the aircon to fill blast. It didn't help much. I just wanted to get to work and get myself a nice, big cup of coffee. Turning the key in the ignition I expected to hear the steady grunt as the machine attempted to go, but instead I got little more than a whine. I tried again.

Fuck.

I banged my fist against the steering wheel a few times before sitting back, letting the not-so-cold air hit me and counting to five.

I could call one of the team, or I could walk.

Looking outside at the sun shining I sighed. Walking was likely the best idea. And the office was only a few blocks down. And it wasn't like the weather was bad, in fact, the opposite. But I didn't move. My legs were already tired and the day hadn't even begun. How exactly was I expected to function without at least a cup fill of caffeine circulating it's way around my system?

Then I remembered the coffee shop on sixth. It was on the way to the office, so I wouldn't exactly be going out of the way, and the coffee way great.

With the thought of great coffee as my motivation, I pushed myself out of my oven-like car and headed on my way, not bothering to lock it out of half hope that somebody might just do me a favor and steal it.

My heels clicked down the concrete sidewalk and I decided the only way the day could go was up. Obviously, God had chosen that day to play a joke on me. I was only a block into my walk when the sunshine turned to grey and it started to spit.

I started to wonder if my mom had been right about the whole punctuality thing. I mean, if I was on time, I would've already been at the office enjoying my coffee.

Another block later and it was hounding down.

Muttering a number of curses, I speed walked my way to the coffee shop, not wanting to look like a fool or hurt my feet, though I was doing both. Mom had definitely been maybe a little right.

The smell of fresh baking and coffee welcomed me in like a moth to a flame. I exited the store ten dollars poorer but with a grande sized cup of triple shot espresso and a white-chocolate and blueberry muffin. I'd probably already worked off the muffin calories anyway with all the walking I'd done.

Yet by the time I'd reached the BAU the brown paper bag that housed my now soggy muffin was soaked through and I probably bore a lot of resemblance to a drowned rat. When Derek laughed at me I knew I'd guessed correctly. I shot him a look that he got the meaning of straight away. His lips shut and he managed to keep them from curling up at the sides.

I dropped my handbag on the floor, my muffin bag on the table and slumped into the seat next to JJ at the conference table. She too made the smart move not to say anything.

Rossi however, didn't. He came through the door, stopped and looked at me. I could see in his eyes the battle between compassion, laughter and good manners. "Bad morning?" he finally asked, his expressive, rough voice somehow managing to display all three of the feelings he was battling.

"You could say that."

He smiled. Just smiled. I felt my heart do a little leap and told it, not all that politely, to stay down.

Me and Rossi have a strange relationship that yoyos between just coworkers, friends and lovers. I've tried very hard to restrict to the first two, but he has a way of getting underneath all my plans – and my clothes – and having me anyway. I put it down to the fact he's Italian and more than a little bit sexy.

Slowly the room filled, nobody else bearing mention to my drowned appearance. I just sipped my coffee in silence. If there had been any wood around to touch I would've asked how the day could possibly get worse. When Hotch came in, it was time to start the show.

JJ took the floor, her blond hair tied perfectly behind her hair, her blouse perfectly white, her slacks perfectly pressed. It took a lot not to hate her, but it was aided by the fact that she was one of my closest friends. And that if I was lucky she would have a spare set of clothes in her locker that I could borrow.

"Three separate cases," she told us, handing out different files to different people.

All up as a group, there were six of us - not including Pen – two girls to four guys. Sometimes, if the case was a big one, a hard one or an incredibly high profile one, we'd all get on it together. But more often than not we were split up, into either two's or three's, and sent on our merry way. If we were lucky we wouldn't even have to leave the office, helping the coppers of these United States catch serial killers from the comfort of our own swivelly-chairs.

I secretly crossed my fingers for a stay at home case. I could get a pizza, a few PS3 games and head over to Declan's for a night of fun. Who cares if he had school the next day? With my job I need all the time I can get with him.

"Who's going where?" Derek asked.

I looked up at JJ expectantly.

"I got Chicago," Rossi told the world.

I flipped open my file to find I two was headed down to the Windy City. Joy. Not that I minded Chicago, lovely city and all that. It was more the idea of being there, alone, with Rossi. When I told him I would be joining him he sent me that smile of his and I felt myself melt. Surprised when I didn't find myself looking up from a pool on the ground.

"You first then," JJ said, playing away with the iPad she held, directing the big screen behind to show what she wanted it to. "A series of twenty people killed over the last year." I could feel my eyes widen. The screen filled with different images. Looking down from it to the file in front of me I wondered how it could possibly all fit. JJ answered my question for me. "Condensed version."

"What is it?" Rossi asked with a half laugh. "The mob?"

"That's what they suspect."

He laughed again before he realized she was serious. "You're kidding. What to they need our help with then?"

"To turn their suspicions into a near definite or to catch the person who's been doing it," JJ explained. Then she turned to the others to explain what they had to do. I zoned out, to tired to try and concentrate on more information than necessary.

I had to admit, the selection of people to go on a Mob related case was a little bit hilarious considering Rossi looked like somebody off the Godfather and I'd like to think I could play one of the women extra's in a low budget version. Guess they profiled that Italian/Americans would prefer to be poked and prodded by 'one of their own kind'. My guess was that they wouldn't let anybody get near enough to even think about poking them, but if I were to pick the person on the team who'd get the closest, it's be Rossi. He had this was about him - this strength, this arrogance, this charm - that came about from being Italian. And he knew just exactly when and how to use the traits his heritage gave him to get what he wanted, he'd used all three on him and she didn't like remembering that she'd given in each time.

She shook her head and tried to focus back on what JJ was saying rather than the tingling she felt in her lower regions.

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Hope you liked it.
It's just a start, not to positively sure where it's going but tell me what you think of it.
I'm now off to camp, so I shall update in… five days?

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