*Five Years Later

I walked into the building feeling confident. A bullpen area met my eyes; small desks surrounding each other. Above a set of stairs were larger offices for bigger positions. My heart was beating fast with adrenaline. This was it; my future. The newest addition to the B.A. U.

I walked up the stairs from the bullpen area and into an office that had a name-plate that said: "Aaron Hotchner." There was a man in his late 30's with jet-black hair sitting at a desk. His hardened face and gaze met mine as I stepped through his door. He looked solemn and hectic, but very professional and organized.

"Hello. Shelly Karlson, right?" he asked as he stood.

"Yes sir," I answered back.

"Welcome to the B.A.U," he said, walking around his desk. He shook my hand and I shook back, strong and confident. This had been the day I was waiting for. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Everyone calls me Hotch."

"It's great to be here, Hotch, sir," I said, smiling. He forced a small smile and turned around to his desk. He picked up a stack of books and papers and handed them to me.

"You've already been taught the procedures, but these are just a few more rules and protocols and a few books that might be helpful. Let me show you to your desk." Hotch led me out of the office and down into the bullpen. A woman with black hair and bangs was looking at me, questioningly but with a small smile on her face. We went across the sea of desks before he stopped at one on the edge of the bullpen on the left.

"We meet in that room over there," Hotch said, pointing to a pair of oak doors, "to discuss cases. We're meeting in there in about ten minutes to discuss a new case that has popped up. I'll leave you to get settled in and if you have any questions, just ask me or any team member. I'll introduce you when we meet in the conference room."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"You're welcome." Hotch walked off and I sighed. I started unpacking my things out of the bag on my shoulder: stapler, manila folders, pencils, pens, and my gun. Tools of the trade. My desk was beginning to look very professional and this made me feel even more positive about my first day as an FBI agent in a field office. I had bought a small apartment in Quantico and filled it with odd, eccentric furniture that clashed with my outfit selection of that day. I was clad in a black pencil-skirt, a black, ruffled blouse, black panty-hose, and black dress pumps. I saw other members walking around and suddenly felt a bit out of place with my choice. Suit jackets and jeans were everywhere, but at least Hotch was dressed up like me. I couldn't help but have my bright red hair back in a professional ponytail either. Anything to impress the superiors.

I hadn't seen Spencer yet and was beginning to wonder where he was. He and I had talked several times a year after my hostage situation. We spent hours on the phone at a time, just talking and talking. Even after he left and I felt like my whole world was dimmer without him and his phone calls always brightened my day a little more.

I had talked to him about my nightmares once; my only friend Elias having a gun stuck to his head and I can't stop anything, those children and teachers screaming in terror, begging for mercy. He had told me to think of all the people who were saved opposed to the ones who died. It helped ease the nightmares thinking of all the lives that had been saved that day.

He told me about his cases and life inside the B.A.U. We never brought up family and most of our past never came up in conversation. He did like to bring up my future though:

"What are you doing with your life?" he had asked on one of our phone calls.

"I don't know. A psychologist of some sort?" I said, no reassurance behind my voice. I could hear Spencer scoff.

"You sound so confident," Spencer sarcastically laughed. I shifted back into reality when I heard a voice from behind me.

"Hi, umm… welcome to the B.A.U. I'm Doctor Spencer Reid," the voice spoke. My heart stopped, realizing what was happening. I slowly turned around and as I did, I could see the apparent shock on Spencer's face.

"Shelly!" he shouted. He swung his arms around my waist and dragged me into a hug. He started laughing and so did I, overjoyed to finally see each other again. I loved the feel of his arms wrapped around me.

"You… you are a terrible person," he said as he let go of me. He was smiling at me, but giving me an accusing look.

"What? Why?" I asked. But I already knew the answer.

"You didn't tell me you got accepted!"

"Well, it's been a few months since we've talked and I was in the academy at the time. And-" Spencer cut me off with another hug.

"I don't care. As long as you're here," Spencer whispered, his breath on my neck. I felt my heart swell tremendously. I heard a cough and Spencer and I jerked away from each other. I looked at the tall, African-American man standing close to me. He was built like a Greek-God and looked at me, skeptically.

"Hi, I'm SSA Derek Morgan," he greeted as he stuck out his hand.

"SSA Shelly Karlson. Nice to meet you," I said back, shaking his hand. Embarrassment flooded over me. I looked over at Spencer and his face was red.

"Welcome to the team. How are you doing?" he asked, intrigued.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"You know, just the whole situation that happened five years ago. That was pretty-"

"Derek, can we talk over there?" Spencer asked, pointing to a desk across the room. Uneasiness settled over us. Derek eyed Spencer cautiously and then nodded. They walked over to the secluded desk and my courage had lost some of its zest.

I knew I had feelings for Spencer for a long time, but I didn't need other team members finding out on the day I had just arrived. I watched them whispering angrily at each other, but was unable to hear their rising argument.

*Spencer's Point of View:

"Damn, Reid, you got yourself a girlfriend?" Morgan asked. I laughed nervously, trying to contain myself of the welling worry that was building up in me.

"You like her, don't you?"

"I- - I don't want to talk about it."

"Damsel in distress, huh Reid?"

"Can you just let it go?" I whispered angrily.

"She was a very serious case," Morgan said harshly. His tone had changed within a matter of seconds as soon as he saw how defensive I was. I couldn't help it. I had feelings for Shelly.

"She's not just a case, Morgan. She's a human being," I said protectively. "Remember that."

"How does Hotch feel about a former victim being an SSA?"

"I don't know, Morgan. She passed the Psych. Eval. and has been through FBI Training. It obviously hasn't gotten in the way of her judgment."

"But is she still fit for the job?"

"Why are you questioning her?" My defenses were up high. "Don't be like Gideon when Prentiss joined the team."

"Stop being so protective, Reid. I think you're defending her because you have a thing for her. Is this going to interfere with your job?" Morgan asked, suddenly pointing a finger at me.

"No, no. Morgan, you brought this up."

"Because it might be a problem. It might cloud your judgment."

"I promise, it won't. It'll be fine," I assured.

"What's going on?" Gideon asked, suddenly appearing out of the blue. I looked to Shelly as she was drinking her first cup of B.A.U. coffee. She coughed at the intensity of the coffee and spilled some on her desk. She frantically stood up and ran to the kitchenette area and grabbed some paper towels.

"Isn't that…?," Gideon started to ask.

"Shelly Karlson," Morgan said.

"The girl from the Central case?" Gideon asked. My head was spinning.

"Yes, the girl that Reid-"

"Hey, isn't it time for that conference soon?" I brought up. Gideon checked his watch and then eyed me carefully before walking off to the room where we gathered. Morgan stared at me with a very stern look before walking off down the hall towards Hotch's office. I shook my head, wondering why Morgan couldn't understand that she was the girl that I had been waiting for all my life.

My mother always said that the right kind of girls would always find you.