Part One

Bryn Sidney stared at herself in the mirror, trying not to have a nervous breakdown. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, an aching rhythm that reminded her just how agitated she was. Her skin looked sallow and sickly under the fluorescent lights, and her eyes were wild. Basically, she looked like she had just seen a ghost. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. It's just a job, she reminded herself. Nobody expects you to be perfect on your first day. Well, nobody except herself, that is. God, she was being ridiculous. Seriously, who has to retreat to the bathroom at Starbucks on their way to work, just so they can have a panic attack? She was heading towards her first day at her dream job, sure, but surely she should be able to stop for coffee without being reduced to a nervous wreck. On the other, maybe the coffee wasn't such a good idea. It's not like she wasn't wired already. Oh well, it was too late now. In fact, the barista was probably calling her name right that second. She splashed some cold water on her face and stared at her reflection, her expression determined. Keep it together, Bryn. You can't afford to mess this up. After taking one final deep breath, she strode out of the bathroom before she could wimp out.

She had been right- the barista was calling her name, his nasally voice laced with irritation.

"Sorry," She murmured as she retrieved her double shot espresso. The barista scowled at her and walked away. Great, this was turning out to be the perfect morning. Bryn checked her watch and sighed. She still had an hour before she had to be at work. She had never been much of a morning person, but she had been so nervous about today that she had barely been able to sleep at all last night. Resigning herself to the uncomfortable café chairs, she sat down and sipped on her drink. The store was relatively quiet, basking in the tranquillity that only the pre-rush hour time could provide. Only three other people sat in the store, and Bryn began to watch them, trying to learn more about them. It was kind of creepy when you thought about it, but it was just part of her job. People watching had been so ingrained into her psyche that it was hard to switch it off.

Her first subject was a young guy, maybe 19 or 20. The large geography textbook balanced on his lap told her that he was a college student, and the bags under his eyes and venti cup suggested that he was caffeinating before a big test. A few tables away, a middle-aged African-American woman in a blue nurses uniform sipped on a small frappucino, her eyes glued to her cellphone. Her slightly dishevelled hair and rumpled uniform told Bryn that she had just come off shift, and was relaxing before heading home. The only other occupant of the café was a guy with short, light brown hair and pale skin. He looked to be around Bryn's age, in his mid to late twenties, and he was writing intently in a leather bound journal. Bryn was a little stumped: his age and clothing suggested graduate student or teacher, but he didn't seem to be carrying a laptop or any books, except for the journal. Bryn was curious, and for a moment she forgot about her anxiety. She sipped on her drink, trying to work this guy out. He was slender, but definitely not athletic. His clothes looked expensive and professional, which seemed to rule out student, but they were also devoid of the uniformity that categorised teacher's clothing. Bryn knew that she was staring, but she couldn't help it. The guy was like a puzzle, and she was determined that with a little more work, she would solve him. It didn't hurt that he wasn't bad on the eyes, either. He kind of reminded her of a guy she'd dated in college; brooding, moody, hard to read. Of course, that had ended in tears, so maybe reliving that memory wasn't the best idea.

She was still mulling over her failed love life when she realised that the object of her attention was staring back at her, his brow creased in confusion. Bryn turned away, and she knew that she was blushing furiously. This happened to her all the time, and it was incredibly embarrassing. She glanced up again furtively, expecting to see the mystery man glaring at her, but she was shocked to realise that he had disappeared. Crap. She'd probably just scared off some poor guy trying to relax on his way to work. Could her morning get any worse? Speaking of which, she checked her watch again. She had twenty minutes to get to work, plenty of time. At least she could get one thing right this morning.

Bryn stood in front of the elevator, cold sweat coating her palms. Well, she was here. The Behavioural Analysis Unit at Quantico. Her access card was clipped to her belt, her papers had all been signed off, and she was officially an FBI profiler. The job she'd dreamed of since she was 16, and she was finally here, ten years later. She could see a lot of busy looking people through a set of glass doors- clearly there wasn't a lot of downtime here. Not that she'd expected that, of course. She quickly checked her reflection in the glass; grey long sleeved shirt, fitted black trousers, dark brown hair hanging loose over her shoulders. Professional but modern, the look her best friend Casey had told her to go for. Bryn just hoped that she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. Steeling herself, she walked through the double doors and into the lion's den.

She barely had time to take in the room before somebody tapped her on the shoulder. A woman was standing behind her, and she definitely hadn't gone for the modern professional look. Her blonde hair was tied up in two pigtails, each one secured with a bright pink band. She was wearing a light blue dress with a purple cardigan, which she had accessorised with fuschia lipstick and dangly pink earrings. Her eyes were cheerful behind her bright glasses, and she was smiling at Bryn so warmly that she couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, you must Bryn. I'm Penelope Garcia, otherwise known as the resident computer genius around here. Welcome to the family!"

"Hi," Bryn managed to squeak out. Penelope took her by the arm and steered her towards a desk in the middle of the room.

"This is your desk, sorry about the lack of colour, but you're welcome to decorate. Front office would have given you your internet password so you can hook your laptop up to our wi-fi, which is totally speedy thanks to yours truly, and there's stationary in your drawer. Oh, and I took the liberty of stealing you one of those cool FBI mugs. Everyone around here pretty much lives on caffeine, so get used to it. There's a team briefing in ten, so you can meet everyone then. Is there anything else you want to know?"

It took Bryn a moment to process the huge amount of information that had just been shot at her, but she managed to mumble thanks after a few seconds. Penelope grinned and bounced away, humming. Shaking her head in bewilderment, Bryn put down her bag and sat down behind her desk. A strange feeling washed over her as she stared around the room. She was exactly where she wanted to be, but there was so much she still had to learn. She had never worked a real case before, and she knew that pretty soon people's lives were going to depend on her and her colleagues. Sure, they'd gone over hundreds of case files at the academy, poring over every little detail, but that was just classwork. This was the real thing. It was a pretty daunting prospect.

"Like what you see so far?"

Bryn had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the person standing in front of her. She recognised his face straight away though, and she stood up to give him a tight hug.

"Hey Uncle Dave," She smiled. David Rossi had been like a second father to her for as long as she could remember. He'd served with her Dad in Vietnam, and when her father had been shot by serial killer Wayne Hammond when Bryn was 15, Dave had led the investigation into his murder. Bryn had even lived with him for a while when she had first started out at the academy. Dave had been the one to suggest that she should apply for the newly vacant profiling spot when Alex Blake had left the Beaureu to teach at Harvard, and Bryn suspected that he had put in a good word for her with the director. She owed him a lot, and she was glad to see a familiar face amongst all the strangeness.

"How are you feeling?" Dave sat on the edge of her desk. "You look nervous."

Bryn shrugged. "I'm okay. It's just strange finally being here. I guess I never really thought I would make it."

"You graduated top of your class, you're a gifted profiler, and you work harder than most of the agents around here. You deserve to be here."

"Thanks," Bryn smiled, and Dave put a hand on her shoulder.

"Your Dad would be proud of you, kid. I sure am."

Bryn opened her mouth to thank him, but she had barely gotten a word out before Penelope Garcia appeared at her side.

"Duty calls, crime fighters. Hotch wants everyone in the conference room, stat."

Penelope bustled away, and Dave chuckled.

"Time to get to work, kiddo."

Taking a deep breath, Bryn picked up her things and followed him to the second floor.