Hello everyone. Welcome back. So glad you enjoyed last week chapter. The response I've been getting to this is awesome. You all rock! Now for a little change in pace, lets go see how things are hanging at the BAU. Enjoy.

Rebecca Hale stood just outside the glass doors of the Behavioral Analysis Unit gazing upon the bullpen and the people swarming about. In her sweaty hands she held a cardboard box that contained all of her worldly possessions from her previous posting. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she was finally here. That she was at Quantico and was about to start her dream job. And what made it even more special was that she was joining the elite team of the unit, personally led by the Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner and the legendary David Rossi. How perfect was that?

She had waited a long time for this to happen, for a position to open up. While her considerable talents were being wasted in a small field office in California, she had taken and passed with what she thought were excellent marks all the profiling courses. Now she had all the proper accreditations but nowhere to go. So when Section Chief Strauss had personally called to let her know a spot had opened up, Rebecca had jumped at the opportunity. She had disposed of everything she had owned and had hopped on the first plane to Washington DC.

Rebecca was so nervous she couldn't get her feet to move. It was like she was rooted to the floor. Then a young, nice looking agent exited the BAU. He held the door open for her.

"Are you going in?" Anderson asked politely.

"Uh…yes…thank you," she stammered and stepped through the opening.

"You're welcome," he said with a smile.

Once she was in the BAU, Rebecca took a moment to orient herself. To her immediate right was the break area and the short flight of stairs that led to the infamous round table room where they made the life and death decisions. To her far left were the offices of her new Unit Chief and Rossi. Hotchner's was dark because, if she remembered correctly, he had taken a leave of absence for something. She was disappointed that she wouldn't meet him today.

Now where is my desk, she mused as she looked over the bullpen. Oh, yes. There it is. Chief Strauss had said it was in the first row facing Agent Hotchner's office.

Tightening her grip on the box, she hurried over and was disappointed when she got there that nobody had bothered to clear away the previous agent's junk. With a snort of annoyance at the inconvenience, Rebecca set her box on the floor and eyed the organized clutter covering the desktop.

"Guess I have to do it myself," she muttered as she pulled out the chair and sat down.

Rebecca grabbed the trashcan out from under the desk and looked over the surface of the desk again. The first thing she snatched up was the nameplate for an Emily Prentiss and tossed in the trash without glancing at it. She did take more time to examine the picture of the dark haired agent with a little boy at the zoo. It was really a shame that she had ruined her life and that of her son's by murdering a man. The framed picture followed the nameplate into the garbage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" an irate voice demanded, snatching the trashcan from her hands.

She turned to find a brightly garbed blonde woman glaring daggers at her through matching eyeglasses. Instantly recognizing her, Rebecca got to her feet and held out her hand.

"You must be Penelope Garcia. I'm—"

"I don't care who you are. I just want to know what the hell you are doing at Emily's desk?" Penelope asked sharply, ignoring the proffered hand.

Rebecca blinked at the tone. "Uh…it isn't her desk anymore. I'm taking her place on the team."

"That's what you think. Excuse me," she said stiffly and with the trashcan clutched to her chest, she marched up the stairs into Rossi's office without knocking.

"I don't see what the big deal is," she said to the analyst's back. "Isn't this Emily person in prison for killing some guy?"

Dave was just walking around his desk when Penelope barged in and stopped in front of him, bringing him up short. He arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Garcia, why are you carrying a trashcan around?"

"It's Emily's."

He stared at her for a second. "Okay. I'll bite. Why are you carrying Prentiss' trashcan?"

"Because that bimbo was trying to throw out Emily's stuff," she declared angrily. And to prove her point, she retrieved the nameplate and picture frame from within.

Now Dave was totally confused. "What bimbo?"

Penelope jerked her head at the door. "The bimbo sitting at Emily's desk who is saying she's the newest member of the team."

"Is that so?" Dave asked rhetorically. He looked out his office window at the dirty blonde woman standing next to Emily's desk with a perplexed look on her face. "Does she have a name?"

"I didn't let her get that far. I was too pissed off at what she was doing," she explained. "Still am."

Dave nodded in understanding. "Shall we go have a little heart to heart with Agent Bimbo and cure her of her misconceptions?" he asked with a wicked smile.

"Oh. Yes. Lets," the analyst agreed with an even nastier grin.

Dave exited his office with Penelope hot on his heels. He had barely gotten down the steps before Rebecca Hale rushed over, grabbed his hand and started pumping it furiously.

"Agent Rossi, it's such an honor to finally meet you," she gushed, prompting Penelope to roll her eyes in disgust. "I'm so looking forward to working with you. I know I'm going to learn so much from you. I've read all your books, several times actually and—"

"And you are?" he interrupted with a bored tone, freeing his hand from hers.

She blinked in surprise then slapped on a smile. "Uh…Rebecca Hale. I just transferred to your team. I was just setting up my desk when—"

"How odd," Dave said with a deep frown.

"Um…what's odd?" she asked in confusion.

"That I didn't approve any transfers and I know for a fact that Agent Hotchner hasn't. Especially since there isn't a position available on the team."

Hale gestured helplessly at Emily's desk. "But I was told the previous agent, Emily something, was going to prison for murder."

"You've been misinformed," Dave said gravely.

"Wha…what?" she stammered, getting a sinking feeling in her stomach. Penelope smirked at her discomfort.

"Agent Emily Prentiss is still a vital member of this team," he informed her.

Rebecca was getting more confused by the minute. This wasn't the way her first day at the BAU was supposed to go. The way she had pictured it was that she would meet her new teammates then jump into a case and show them how good she was. Now it was looking like it wasn't going to happen. She had to do something so she played her trump card.

"But Section Chief Strauss personally—"

Dave's eyes narrowed. The bimbo had just confirmed his suspicions. Strauss was up to her old tricks. "Do you have the transfer orders?"

"Umm…yes. In my box," she said and hurried back to the desk. Dave and Penelope followed her. Rebecca tore the lid off the box and yanked out the papers. "Here. They show I belong here."

Taking the orders, Dave pretended to study them. "Now lets not get ahead of ourselves. I'll have to check this out first. So, for now, you may remain."

Penelope's eyes nearly popped out of her head. She had thought Dave was going to kick the bleached blonde bimbo to the curb. Instead he invited her to stay and be a member of the team. She opened her mouth to protest.

"But not at this desk," he continued. "You can use that one." Dave pointed to a small table set up behind the open shelving that was used to store files. Back there she would be out of sight and mind. Penelope's shut her mouth and grinned.

Rebecca looked to where he was pointing and blinked in disbelief. That desk was nowhere as nice as this one. It looked like a basic table with a folding chair. "Agent Rossi—"

"If you don't like the arrangement, Agent, you can keep walking and go back to where ever you came from. Hopefully you haven't gotten rid of your apartment so that you will have some place to return to. It would be a bummer if you had."

She gulped. She had dumped everything to come here. Dave picked up the cardboard box and shoved it into her unresisting hands. In a state of shock, Rebecca turned around and wordlessly walked to her new desk.

Dave gave Penelope a meaningful look. "Now we can't have her sitting around twiddling her thumbs, so why don't you find the thickest and driest manual for her to read. And make sure you tell her that she has to finish it today. Regulations, you know."

"Yes, Sir," Penelope said with a wide grin.

"Meanwhile, I'm off to have a little chat with our Section Chief."

As Dave breezed through the outer office, he nodded politely to Strauss' secretary Ann. Before she had a chance to hop to her feet and inform him that the Section Chief was unavailable, he had passed into the inner sanctum. He settled into one of the chairs, casually rested an ankle on his knee and folded his hands in his lap. He gazed at the blonde woman with a bored look.

Erin Strauss looked up from the report she was reading and frowned in annoyance at the intrusion. "Haven't you heard of knocking, Agent Rossi?"

"What's knocking between two friends?" he asked drolly.

Her annoyance deepened. "What is it that you want?" she demanded in irritation.

Dave shook his head slowly. "I see you're up to your old tricks, Erin. I thought you would have learned your lesson by now."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Dave tossed the transfer order he had brought along on her desk. "Rebecca Hale, your latest mole and ass kisser. I'm sure this one is quite willing to jump through all the hoops you want her to. Unlike Prentiss who refused to do your bidding."

Strauss picked up the transfer and pretended to read it. "I transferred Hale in because your team needs help. You are currently working down two people. And besides she shows a lot of promise," she explained, feigning innocence.

"Right," he scoffed. "If we need help, we can borrow an experienced profiler from one of the other teams. We don't need a wannabe profiler who is so full of herself and sees the BAU as a way to make her name."

"It's only temporary," she argued.

He arched an eyebrow. "Is it? Agent Bi…Hale," Dave caught himself at the last minute from saying bimbo. "Is under the impression that it is permanent."

"It will be permanent once Agent Prentiss is officially separated from the FBI after the outcome of her trial." Strauss narrowed her eyes. "In the meantime, you have six months to turn Agent Hale into an excellent profiler. That is all, Agent," she said and picked the report back up, effective dismissing him.

"No," he said decisively.

Strauss took off her reading glasses and glared at him. "No?" she echoed.

"You heard me, Erin. We don't need nor want Agent Hale. We'll be fine until Hotch and Prentiss return. You can use her elsewhere or send her back to whatever small field office you got her from. I don't care."

She rose to her feet and pressed the palms of her hands on the desk. "You don't have the right to order me around," she spat.

Dave ignored her and thoughtfully stroked his goatee. "Is the Director aware of the fact that one of his Section Chief's is not supporting one of her agents who is being framed? That she colluded with the lawyer representing said agent to convince her to accept a plea deal so that the Bureau can save face?"

"I don't care much for what you are implying!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes blazing.

"Does he know you went and visited Agent Prentiss in jail, not to check on her but to get her to accept the deal?"

"How did you…" she cut off the rest of what she was going to say. She silently cursed. David Rossi had eyes and ears everywhere. "It's a good deal. The case against her is solid," she said in her defense.

"Right," he scoffed. "It's a good deal to serve thirty years in prison for committing no crime beside ticking you off? How does that sound fair?"

Strauss remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval.

"I don't think it is," Dave said, getting to his feet. "You know, Erin, holding a grudge for six years because Prentiss wouldn't do your dirty work is unhealthy. You really need to get over it." He turned to leave.

She stared daggers at his back, pissed that he had the gall to talk to her like that and annoyed at herself for not having the proper comeback.

Dave paused at the door. "I also heard there is the possibility that you might get yourself sued if Prentiss' employment is terminated prematurely. If that comes to pass you can be assured that I will be her number one witness."

"Are you threatening me, David?" she demanded.

He smirked. "Not at all. Just making a strong suggestion. Have a good day," he said and departed.

Strauss sagged heavily into her chair and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. That was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that she had been threatened and she didn't like it one bit. She knew that they weren't idle threats; Prentiss and Rossi had been deadly serious. Unconsciously her eyes drifted over to the low file cabinet along the wall and the secret it contained. God! I really need a drink.

Emily closed her eyes and sighed in contentment. This was the only part of her forced incarceration she actually looked forward to. Because she was being held in protected custody, the police could keep her confined to her cell. But for one hour every day she was allowed out, besides her meetings with Hotch, to exercise and/or take a shower. Her private exercise yard wasn't exactly a yard, but a glorified dog run surrounded by chain link fencing and razor wire. None of that really mattered to Emily though, she was just happy to be outside.

She sat leaning against the fence, head tilted back and arms resting limply on her drawn up knees. It was a bit chilly and she didn't have a coat, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was out in the fresh air and not breathing in the stale institutional air. Emily tuned out the din made by the other prisoners in their own yard and listened to the birds singing and insects chirping, allowing her to pretend she was somewhere peaceful and not it jail. The warmth of the afternoon sun soaked into her skin and melted away the tension in her muscles. If she could, Emily would spend the entire day like this.

"Agent Prentiss?"

Cruz's Hispanic lilt voice shattered her idyllic daydream. Emily groaned loudly at the interruption and opened her eyes. Squinting against the sunlight she spotted the young officer standing at the locked gate, a pair of handcuffs held ready.

She groaned again. "Please tell me that my hour isn't up yet. It feels like I just started it," she complained.

"It isn't," he told her as he unlocked the gate and stepped through. "It seems you're going on a short field trip."

Emily frowned in confusion. "A field trip?" she repeated.

"Uh huh," he said with a tiny smile and gestured her to stand.

She climbed to her feet, turned around and put her hands behind her back so that he could ratchet the handcuffs in place.

"Oh," she said in realization and smiled.

Now Emily knew what he had been referring to. Hotch had somehow managed to convince the cops to let him take her to the crime scene. She had no clue how he had accomplished it, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Emily would gladly tolerate being shackled hand and foot for several hours as long as it got her out from under the oppressive atmosphere of desolation that clung to the jail and its occupants.

Boy does Dave have Strauss' number. Next week is the field trip. Do come back for that. Until then.