Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter 1

Virginia was a completely different animal than Nevada. The change from the dry, dusty heat of the desert to the humidity of the East Coast was dramatic to Spencer, who had never really traveled from the West Coast. From the lack of fauna and mountains, to be being surrounded by trees everywhere he went. It was an astounding sight to someone who lived in a place where a rock front lawn was common. In preparation, Spencer had been spent the last week reading up on the environment in the area. After all, if this scheme worked than he would be spending a vast amount of his time on this side of the United States.

Self-consciously, he hitched his brown leather messenger bag further on his shoulder, a memento of his mother's time as a professor before the slow downslide. He was standing outside the FBI Academy, located in Quantico, Virginia. It was his first day at the Academy and Spencer had dressed to the nines, prepared to be in his first professional environment. It was a lot cooler than he was used to, so he had thrown on a cardigan this morning over his dress shirt and tie. He hoped it was professional enough. It had been the best that he had seen at Goodwill, so Spencer had snapped it up last week. Nervously, he reached to run a hand through his hair and then paused at the last second. He really couldn't mess it up. Not after he had gelled his hair in place this morning.

He took a deep breath, eyeing the structure in front of him. Nothing had ever been so intimidating to Spencer before in his life. Beyond this door, he would be given the chance to prove himself and everything he said and did from now on would matter. He had to make it through the Academy. He had to. After all he had done, all he had sacrificed in order to get here, nothing but achievement could occur. Especially, since the recruiter, the lead profiler of the BAU had convinced him to join the FBI.

…

Caltech Lecture Hall-One year earlier

"Becoming an agent of the FBI is about more than maxing your physical fitness test, acing all the exams, and passing all the interviews, ladies and gentlemen. It's about possessing the drive to succeed, the drive to take down the bad guys no matter how long it takes."

Jason Gideon was holding court in the lecture hall. Spencer had been pleased to hear that such a renowned agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation had decided to visit the university. Spencer had never really thought of law enforcement as a career option, being more mentally proficient than physically, but after hearing of the lecture, he had gone to do research on the guest. He'd been surprised to see such a range of specialties in the agent and had gone on to do research on famous cases in regards to the profiler. This had led to perusal of several key texts in regards to profiling and criminology, several being the key word.

"What kinds of divisions are there within the FBI?" someone from the front row called out. Spencer titled his head to see the originator. He sighed when he noticed a female from the liberal arts section. He didn't have much use for the liberal arts side of the university, but as a requirement he had been forced to take one or two painful courses and he recognized the build immediately. This one liked to talk and would keep the lecturer's focus on her if she was given the slightest opportunity.

Jason Gideon turned his gaze to that side of the auditorium. "There are many. From White Collar to Narcotics to Fraud, as well as several others." And obviously he recognized the same tendency within the female, because he immediately launched into his next part of the speech. "I myself specialize in profiling, a key portion of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The unit is split into four key sections, those of which I will delve into for those students truly interested in the agency. Moving on, I will now take questions from other members of the audience."

The girl in front blushed and laughed, though Spencer couldn't figure out the reason why. There had been no joke told as far as he could tell. "Have you ever shot anyone?" an athlete from the same row as Spencer called out loudly. Mentally, he sighed. Why would anyone ask such an asinine question? It was obvious, as a federal agent, that being forced to shoot someone at some point in his career would happen. Otherwise, the weapons would have to be just for show.

Spencer felt himself go red hot as the agent's gaze focused on his row. "Naturally, though this is not a key task of the job. It does, however, happen occasionally in the line of duty." He watched the agent's line slide down the row and focus on him thoughtfully. He resisted the strong urge to sink down in his seat. He realized he looked odd, being not only the youngest in attendance, but he had empty spaces surrounding him and had a pile of textbooks by his side, in case he needed them for reference or boredom. Not that he ever needed anything for reference, what with him possessing an eidetic memory and all.

He blinked when he realized that the agent hadn't moved on. That it seemed like he was almost waiting in that brief moment for Spencer to ask a question. With a mental shrug, he did just that, he did have a lot of questions. "Sir," he began cautiously, raising a voice a little when he received a slight nod from the famed profiler. "What would you say of the differences between key elements of the Scarsdale Skinner case and the official profile that was given when the BAU first communicated with the local unit?"

Spencer watched as Jason Gideon blinked and then tilted his head slightly, considering him. Spencer could tell that the profiler was thinking hard about the facts within the question, as to whether Spencer had thrown it out as part of a true quest for knowledge, or whether he had done it to impress those around him. Though, considering the hushed hateful whispers directed his way and the paper balls being prepped in a few key areas of the room, Spencer could see that Jason Gideon quickly reached the conclusion that it was the former rather than the latter.

"I would say that the elements of a profile constantly change as the BAU discovers more about the unsub, also known as the unknown subject, because we truly only know him from what type of behavior he portrays at the crime scene. When the initial profile was given, it was based on the first two crimes committed in the name of the Scarsdale Skinner. It was not until further crimes were committed that the BAU was able to accurately estimate his true motive for killing."

"And that was?" someone else called out. Gideon gave a genial smile. "Again something to be discussed at a later time, as I believe that our time is now up. Class dismissed."

Spencer waited until the majority of the audience had left. It took a few minutes, since a few of those eager to consider the agency flocked around the agent, firing out question after question. Spencer took his time, packing his textbooks in his favorite messenger bag and idly straightening his papers as well. Finally, after most of the audience had at least made its way out the doors Spencer moved his way down the stairs, pleased to see that the agent had waited.

"So, you must the genius I've heard so much about," Gideon began. "Why don't we go find an empty classroom, I'd like to hear what other questions you have concerning profiling."

…

Spencer hadn't considered that the lecture would lead to the possibility of a career. He'd spent several hours discussing the agency with Gideon, only stopping because he had a class that he would have been late for. And if there was one notable thing about Spencer, it was the fact that he wouldn't be late to a class. Ever. That one talk had turned into several via phone, since the agent had been required to return to Quantico shortly after. Those talks had turned into an offer to join the FBI, and if he made it through the training, the BAU.

Spencer bit his lip. He'd been assured that his mental prowess would be considered more than his lack of physical ability. It was worrying, the thought of doing physical activity and being judged for it, but he would survive. He'd survived worse things before, after all. Hesitantly, he pushed his way through the glass doors and made his way across a tiled lobby engraved with the FBI seal to a nearby desk labeled 'Reception.'

"Excuse me? I'm supposed to start today?" The elegantly dressed receptionist gave him a look. "Name?"

"Um. Reid, Spencer Reid," he stated, clutching onto his bag for dear life. What if they'd changed their minds? What if he wasn't supposed to be here anymore? What if-?

"Here we are," she stated, with a sigh of satisfaction, brandishing a sheet of paper. "Take this, go to the elevator, to the second floor and go to the first classroom on the left."

Blinking, he took the paper and obediently followed her instructions. 'Spencer Reid,' he thought to himself, 'welcome to the Federal Bureau of Investigation.'

End.

A/N: Well, this will be an interesting one, I guess. Please review!