Day 1
The FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit is on the sixth floor of the main headquarters at the FBI Academy. I haven't been here since my training four and a half years ago. Until my tour yesterday, I hadn't been on this floor ever. It looks nothing like my office in Boston, and it's already much busier than I would have imagined this early in the morning. I check my watch. I know I'm on time-early, even-but all the movement makes me feel late. I don't like to be late.
There are people everywhere. Glancing around, I wonder which of them will be my teammates. I don't see any of the people I was introduced to the other day-the woman who gave me my tour, my new boss. For a moment I just stand in front of the elevator watching everything. Feeling nervous for the first time all morning, I swallow hard and step forward.
"Gabriella." I'm half way across the floor when I see my new boss, Aaron Hotchner, heading in my direction. After speaking several times on the phone over the course of my application to the unit, we finally met yesterday. Over six feet, with broad shoulders and a voice as dark and intense as his eyes, he's just as intimidating the second time around.
"Yes! Agent Hotchner. It's nice to see you again," I say, smiling the best I can and extending my hand.
"Same to you. I've heard great things about you from Boston. I'm looking forward to having you on the team." I smile more, glowing a little under the praise.
"I'm excited to be here, sir. I won't let you down."
"Good. I'll take you to your office and we can talk there. And feel free to call me 'Hotch.' Everyone else does."
"Great." I follow him away from the crowded bullpen, struggling some to keep up with his long strides.
The room had become very hushed as we talked, and I am suddenly aware of all the eyes following us down the raised platform that runs in front of some offices.. I groan internally as we disappear down the hall. Being the new kid is not my strong suit.
"Will. You're still here." We reach the office, where JJ's husband, Will, is still packing books into a bag.
"Yeah. I'm almost done. JJ asked me to get a few more things for her," he says in his Louisianan draw. "You must be JJ's replacement?" he adds, lifting his eyebrows at me.
"Yes."
"I was supposed to tell you if I saw you, that she says to make yourself at home, and even though she's on bed rest feel free to call her if you have any questions. She definitely needs the distraction, so call her when you get the chance and talk about something other than how she's feeling." I smile.
"Alright, I'll do that."
"Alright then, I'll get out of your way. Good luck with everything."
"Thank you. Give JJ my best."
"Mine, too," Hotch adds. Will nods, sidling around the desk with the bag.
"I will. See y'all later."
"Usually you would have more time to shadow her before you start alone," Hotch says once Will disappears, "but under the circumstances, I'm going to have to ask you to learn as we go." I nod.
"It's fine, I understand. We were up late last night going through case files. From everything she's told me I think I'm already pretty well prepared, and it isn't that different from what I was doing in Boston, anyway." He nods.
"Good. If you have any questions, just ask and-"
"I have all of JJ's contact information and full permission to ask her questions, too," I say smiling, anticipating his words.
"Good." His eyes pass over me, sizing me up. "You seem well prepared. I'll give you some time to settle in before we start on the next case."
"Aaron! I just saw Will on his way out. Is-oh. There she is. You must be…?" An older man appears over Hotch's shoulder in the door. His black hair is streaked with gray, and he's older than anyone I've seen here so far.
"Gabriella Taylor, sir." I offer him my hand.
"David Rossi."
"It's nice to meet you, sir." He nods.
"You, too. You'll tell me when we start the next case?" he adds to Hotch.
"Yes. We'll get out of your way," he says to me. I nod. They leave, and I sit down behind the desk. It feels good to be out of my crowded cubicle, away from the noise of the main floor. Looking around the room, my eyes fall on JJ's University of Pittsburgh degree hanging on the wall. Hmm. Good school. Not as good as mine, but…a good school.
"Agent-uh, Hotch, I'm ready to present the next case, if you'd like." The door to Hotch's office is open, and when I reach it I see he isn't alone. Standing across from his desk, holding a cup of coffee, is a man I glimpsed a few times during my tour the day before, but hadn't been introduced to.
"Oh. Good. Gabriella, this is Agent Derek Morgan. Morgan, Agent Gabriella Taylor. She's filling in-"
"-For JJ. I saw Emily giving you the tour yesterday," he says, extending his hand. "Derek Morgan."
"Gabriella. Or, 'Gabby' for short. 'Gabriella' is kind of a mouthful." I laugh a little and he smiles, releasing my hand.
"Well you can call me Derek or Morgan, I'm used to both." I nod. Hotch clears his throat.
"You all will have time to socialize on the jet. I'd like to start on the case," he says, pushing his chair under the desk and rounding it to join us on the other side.
"Of course." I'm the first out of the room, and when we reach the conference room Derek holds the door open. Two people already sit at the large round table-one of which is Rossi-and Emily Prentiss enters right behind us.
"Alright everyone, I'd like you to meet Agent Gabriella Taylor. She's filling in for JJ for the next few months. You know Prentiss and Rossi, and Morgan, so that leaves is Reid. Gabby, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Reid, Gabby."
"Nice to meet you," he says, acknowledging me with a nod and a half smile.
"You, too. And uh, for anyone I haven't told yet, feel free to call me 'Gabby.' Chances are I won't realize you're speaking to me if you call me Gabriella."
"Good. Well, now that we all know each other, let's get started," Hotch says, taking a seat that faces the front of the room.
"Okay, um, this case comes to us from Greenville, North Carolina," I begin, passing out copies of the case details. "There's been three home invasion-type attacks…."
The BAU jet kind of amazes me. I sit towards the back with papers spread out over the seat next to me, but the view of the clouds and blue sky out my window keeps distracting me from my work. I've always liked flying, liked watching the ground disappear beneath me, so I don't know how I'm going to get anything done once the team disperses and we're left to our own devices. If it was up to me, I'd spend the entire flight staring out the window.
"So. Prentiss tells me you're from Boston." Derek takes the empty seat against the back wall of the jet. I turn my notebook over in my lap, happy for the break. The names I was going through were beginning to run together in my head.
"The field office, yes," I say, looking up at him and smiling. "I've worked there since I started in the FBI. Now I'm here."
"Ah." He nods. "So where are you from?"
"Charlottesville. Couple hours from Quantico."
"Ohhh, so you're local." I shrug.
"I guess you could say that. Where are you from?"
"Chicago."
"Ooooh, Sox or Cubs?" An odd mix of amusement and suspicion crosses his dark features.
"Sox. Why?"
"Sorry. Habit. I grew up on baseball. If you said you were from New York I would have asked Mets or Yankees." He nods, seeming satisfied with the explanation.
"Who's your team?" I slow smile makes its way onto my face.
"This is quickly turning into a ninth grade getting to know you exercise." He laughs.
"Hey, you started this line of questioning."
"Fair enough. I'm a Braves fan. And a converted Red Sox fan."
"Ah. Well while we're on this whole Q and A thing, I have one more." I nod.
"Go for it."
"How'd you end up with this job? If you've been in Boston?"
"Well, I met JJ a couple years ago, when you guys were working on the Reaper case. They pulled me to help her out with Boston news stations, and we hit it off pretty well, so we kept in touch. She knew I was looking for a move, so she offered to put me in as a candidate for this. So now I'm here."
"Any idea where you're going next?" I shake my head.
"Nope. Don't know, and I don't really care. I'd kind of like to stay in this area, maybe, but it doesn't really matter."
"It's a cool city. Great nightlife, if you know where you're going." I raise an eyebrow. There's a suggestive tone in his voice, and I'm beginning to see how the rest of this conversation is going to go.
"My experience with DC only extends as far as a few trips to the Potomac Mills mall, a couple of concerts, and a tour of the White House when I was eleven." He smiles.
"Well, if you're ever interested in seeing the real Washington, I'd be happy to show you around. I can show you some places that'll top anywhere you used to hang out in Charlottesville. Or Boston." I roll my eyes.
"Ahhh, so that's where this conversation is going. You're good," I say, nodding my appreciation. "You're cute, too, but I have to say no thanks. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea, but…I don't like to mix work and play." Derek raises an eyebrow, a hint of disappointment hiding behind the amusement.
"Alright, I see how it is. Although just to give you a heads up, this job doesn't leave much room for play." I shrug.
"It's only temporary. Ask me again in six months."
"Ask you…what, to go out with me?" I smirk.
"Yeah. I dunno where they're sending me after this, but if I do stay around here, then…maybe."