Disclaimer: I don't own, nor claim to own, anything to do with Spooks. That honour belongs to the people at the BBC and Kudos. I'm just borrowing their characters and having a little play around with them. I promise they'll be nice and clean and all ready for school when I give them back.

Other bits and bobs: Ok, so this kinda came to me when I was standing in the shower feeling as rough as she does in the first paragraph. Wonderful how real life twists and turns itself into fiction sometimes, isn't it?! Please R&R, I love reading the reviews I'll admit it :)

First day on the job

Emily stood underneath the jets of water as they rushed over her head and sighed. It had been such a long day. She knew that your first day in a new job was meant to be tough, but this had been ridiculous. She needed this shower. The water was hotter than normal, almost scalding, but she'd felt decidedly unclean when she'd finally stepped through her front door after what had felt like the never ending shift from hell. Peeling off her clothes before stepping into the cubicle, she felt as though she was cracking the shell of an egg, and finally in the shower, alone, she was able to let her emotions show. Today had been horrible. She'd been nervous, and had fluffed her words introducing herself to her new boss, a rather round, angry looking man. He'd looked down his nose at her, and she'd immediately felt the need to apologise. She didn't know what for, possibly even being born, something, anything.

"Don't worry about him" one of her friendlier (meaning the words coming from his mouth hadn't actually burnt her) colleagues had said to her later as she'd tried to mould herself into the watercooler so much that she'd threatened to start bubbling herself. "He's just still a bit bitter..."

She didn't find out what her boss was bitter about, as her colleague, who's name she'd not caught, was called away quickly to a meeting. The knowledge that her boss was bitter hadn't helped anything though, it didn't help her understand why he seemed to loath her just being there, she'd tried hard to just keep her head down and get on with it. She'd even stayed behind late to locate something he'd barked at her to find. It'd been almost impossible to get hold of, and she'd hoped that in doing so, she'd earn a little respite. Alas no, her boss still glared at her, snapped his thanks and snatched the item from her grasp before she'd taken the blindingly obvious hint and had scuttled out of his office like a wounded puppy.

Emily let out a cry of anger and in doing so, managed to squeeze the shampoo bottle so hard that it squirted fruit scented goo into her face. Bugger! She cried out, desperately trying to wipe her face clean as her eyes started to burn. Well that just tops of a fabulous day, doesn't it she thought, as the water ran over her face and took away the stinging sensation.

Then there were the people. Apart from the one guy that had tried to explain her boss's behaviour to her, they'd all seemed a bit... cold. Ok, so she was the new girl, she knew that much. But they all seemed to look down on her too. She was intelligent, she wasn't rude, she wasn't entirely unaware of the situation either... she knew that her position had only become available because there'd been some sort of scandal involving the person who held it before her (inter-office affair, she reckoned), but still. That didn't mean they had a right to be so cold to her. They moved in a rhythm that was unfamiliar to her, they spoke in a language that she was just grasping hold of. They were so obviously bonded into a team that she would've felt less out of place if she'd arrived dressed as Santa and had announced she was the office entertainment for the afternoon. She'd taken the job because she thought she'd be good at it and that it might be fun and so far, the fun part had been in severely short supply. They'd thrown her in at the deep end and all she'd done all day was locate this file, or type up that document. Not so much as a cursory tour of the workplace jobbie. Where was the excitement they'd promised her when she'd applied for this job? This was, afterall, meant to be one of the most challenging workplaces in the country, so far she felt as challenged as a lab rat undergoing a test to find the tastiest cheese. She longed to go back to her old job, but her pride wouldn't let her. She'd left for a good reason, she argued to herself. She just had to keep holding onto that reason and be stronger than the office bullies. Besides, going back would be too hard. Damnit, it was all too hard.

Getting out of the shower into the steamy bathroom half an hour later, she wrapped her huge towelling dressing gown around herself and headed for her front room, via her kitchen, to settle down with a nice bottle of wine and a good film. As she settled against the soft cushions, she felt a sudden sense of loss. She'd given up a lot for this job. Family, friends, relationship, she'd moved away from it all when she'd learnt she'd got the position. And now, she felt nothing but regret. Damnit, she knew first days were meant to be difficult, but so much so that she wanted to curl into a ball and cry? Whilst still at her desk? Actually she thought to herself. That's one thing I do quite like about the place. The office where she worked was all open plan, with funky lighting and Ikea style furniture. She could grow used to it, she reasoned. If she really, really tried.

Emily picked up her phone and absently checked her messages. Nothing. No good luck messages, no 'how did it go?' texts. It was like she didn't exist. She felt the tears burn at her eyes but pushed them away. She wasn't going to let homesickness and a bunch of stuck up colleagues get to her. She shook her head emphatically to no-one in particular, then felt silly for doing so. She picked up her phone again, and automatically opened up her contact list. Her thumb scrolled down over the list of names, and she stopped at one in particular. One she had told herself so many times since she'd moved here to delete. No. She sternly told herself. She wouldn't go running to him. Much as she desperately wanted to. She could use a familiar face right about now. She threw the phone onto the table out of arm's reach and had another glass of wine.

Much later, the film finished and Emily, asleep on the sofa and clutching a photo held in a neat silver frame, turned over as her dream took her back to happier memories, days when she was sure of herself and was happy with her life. Back to when she was sure of who she was and what she was doing.

I wish I was still with you, Harry she murmured.

End

So... did I get you? please let me know! I'd love to know if I made this fic 'work' (for want of a better way of putting it!) :)