Thank you to anyone who reviewed! I love and appriciate all reviews. A big thank you goes to Flashpenguin who beta's my chapters, she always does a fantastic job on everything I send her.

Oh and I think it's time I put a disclaimer in, but I don't own Criminal Minds, however, if the dummies at CBS offer it to me, I sure as heck will take it.

Chapter 11

"We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit." E.E. Cummings

"Hello?" Emily spoke groggily into the receiver. The ringing had interrupted a dream she'd been having about Michaela. They had been driving and Michaela had been happily eating a Snickers bar and saying 'member me Momma Princess.'

"Agent Prentiss?" A girl's voice asked.

"This is she."

"It's Nicole Morris."

"Hi Nicole. Did you remember anything about the case?" Emily asked and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Umm sort of; remember I told you that my mom was on her period? She was in a lot of pain; she normally gets bad cramps. But she still went jogging in the morning, like she usually does."

Emily shook her head as she tried to wake up, it had to be sometime in the early morning. "Thank you for telling me Nicole."She glanced at the clock and noticed that it was past one in the morning. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, sorry if I woke you up, I just realized what time it was." Nicole whispered. "What I told you probably won't help the case anyway."

"Its fine, every little thing helps." Emily assured when she heard sniffling on the other end. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?" she prompted.

"I don't know," Nicole said, "I'm sorry for the way my father treated you; he doesn't know how to be polite to women."

Emily was surprised that Nicole would be so vocal about her Dad; she had seemed so quiet when he had been around her earlier that day.

"What grade are you in?" Emily asked. She could tell that Nicole wanted to talk about something but was too nervous to come right out and say it.

"I'm actually a senior; I'm home schooled so I'm a few grades ahead," Nicole reply. "I'm supposed to be finished with school by December."

"Really? Do you know what you want to do after you graduate?"

"I'm not a hundred percent sure. I want to help kids but I'm not sure how."

"Do you have a vague idea about how you want to help kids?" Emily asked.

"Well, I was thinking I could be this person that kids could come to if they're being hurt at home and they could tell me and I'd help them get out of the house," Nicole hedged.

"Maybe like a psychologist?" Emily suggested.

"Ehhhh," Nicole made a noise, "not really. Maybe a cop who works with kids?"

"Like Criminal Justice?"

"I guess. How did you become an FBI agent?" Nicole inquired.

"It wasn't easy. The application process is very difficult."

"How difficult?"

"Well." Emily closed her eyes, remembering what she had done to apply to the FBI. "You have to be between certain ages, 23 and 37. And you need to have a Bachelors degree from a good university."

"I want to go to George Washington," Nicole interrupted, "is that school good enough?"

Emily fought to keep the smile out of her voice, "Yes, George Washington is a good enough University. You need to be physically able to complete the training and duties. This includes the ability to fight and complete fire arms training."

"Like guns?"

"And you need to pass a certification process every few years to make sure that you are still able to use the gun properly. You also need to be able to work in one of five areas of the FBI."

"What are they?"

"Law - you have to have been a lawyer. Language, which is what I specialize in," Emily said.

"Does it matter what language?" Nicole asked.

"No, but you have to be very fluent in at least one language," Emily corrected, "besides English."

"What's your language?"

"Actually, I'm fluent in Spanish, Italian and Arabic."

"Cool," Nicole breathed. "Is that all?"

"You have to commit to work for the FBI for three years when you accept employment."

"Why?"

"To avoid a high turnover rate. There's a lot of work that goes into hiring; they don't want it to be in vain."

"Oh," Nicole was quiet.

"You cannot have used drugs, they will find out about the one time you smoked pot in Italy when you were fourteen and wanted to fit in." Emily said, remembering what had come up when she had applied for the FBI. "You have to pass several drug tests." She glanced at the time: 1:35. "You have to fill out an involved paperwork packet, where you have to provide addresses and dates of residence for all homes from the day you were born until the day you fill out the packet. In fact if you're planning on moving while you are applying to the FBI, it's a good idea to put your future address on there to."

Emily took in a breath. "You also need to provide a complete work history, any volunteer work, law enforcement experience or military, awards and academic achievement."

"Does that include the spelling bee ribbon you won when you were in the 2nd grade?" Nicole asked.

"Just be glad that you don't have to pay for your school transcripts to be translated," Emily chuckled.

"That doesn't sound too bad," Nicole commented.

"It's bad when you've got school transcripts in six different languages," Emily shot back. "Arabic, Spanish, French, Russian, Italian and Dutch."

"Really?" Nicole seemed genuinely curious.

"Yeah, once you're done, you send it into your local FBI office. Then you have to take the first of many qualification tests. It's what's called Phase I testing."

"How do you study for it?" Nicole asked.

"You can't." Emily said getting up; she figured if she were up she might as well get something to drink. "Phase one testing is more of a personality quiz than anything else. If they still like you after that, they'll invite you in and ask you to fill out their real job application. This is even longer and even more detailed then the first one. They do an extensive background check. It takes several weeks."

"I thought they just did a background check on you." Nicole said, sounding confused.

"They did, and this one isn't the last one. Trust me." She took in a breath. "After this, they rate you based on test results and application evaluation. Basically, they throw you into one of three groups:" Emily filled the mug and placed it in the microwave. "Group one is that you look good on paper, and it's time to actually meet you in person. Group Two is that they like you, but there are better qualified people in front of you, and Group three is that they don't really want you. You don't want to be in group three."

"What happens then?" Nicole asked.

"You will be invited to fill out an application for continued consideration. Then you are invited to complete Phase two of testing, these are written tests." Emily said, leaning up against a counter as the timer counted down. "Once you pass the Phase two testing, you will be eligible for the Final Screening Process. This process includes a polygraph test and another drug test."

"I thought they already did that."

"They did, they make you take them several times during the process," Emily said, remembering the three drug tests she'd taken. She pulled the hot mug out and placed the teabag in and stirred.

"They do another, even more extensive background check. Don't be surprised if you get a call from the doctor who delivered you asking why he got a call from the FBI," Emily warned. "You need to have a physical exam, and if you think the ones you've gone through are bad, wait until you have the FBI mandated one done to you - it's brutal."

"Then you have a security interview where they ask for a commitment to be available to begin work in two-weeks. Also, they check whoever you've met who isn't a US citizen or any foreign travel you've had." Emily sipped her drink. "Trust me, when you've spent your childhood moving from one foreign post to another because your parents are ambassadors, that's a lot of people."

"If by this point you haven't been rejected yet, you'll be shipped off to Quantico for field agent training. Agent training lasts about four months. But remember that acceptance into FBI training isn't a guarantee you will successfully complete training and testing at the academy; it's hard."

"What happens then?" Nicole asked yawning again. "After the academy?"

"Pack up the essentials and prepare to move to another city. To eliminate any chance of favoring friends, family, or anyone you have a chance of knowing, they will almost always move you to another city. It will probably be an area not desired by more experienced agents it's basically where you can gain experience."

"Like where?"

"Wasilla, Alaska," Emily rattled off the city where she'd been assigned. "Nice postings like Miami, Los Angeles, and DC come after you've worked for a few years or if you're going through special training, a special or have a desired talent or experience."

"Oh," Nicole sounded tired.

"The thing about the FBI is you have to be honest at all times. They will open every closet to inspect every skeleton before hiring you. Failure to tell them every single little minute detail about your life will result in immediate rejection from the hiring pool or immediate termination if you have already hired." Emily said, remembering how over half the agents who had started the academy with her were no longer working for the FBI.

"I probably need to go," Nicole said, sounding wistful, she sighed into the phone.

"We can keep talking if you want." Emily said, she remembered the look in Nicole's eyes from earlier in the day, something was wrong in Nicole's life, she could tell. Maybe if she kept Nicole on the phone long enough the teenager would tell her what was wrong.

"I actually have a question, Agent Prentiss," Nicole whispered.

"Please call me Emily." She figured if she was going to get Nicole to open up, they'd have to be on more casual terms.

"Okay, Emily, I was wondering what I should do about a friend of mine." Nicole took in a breath. "I met her at my home school co–op."

"What's the problem?" Emily rinsed out the mug and placed it in the drainer. Turning off the light she walked back to the bedroom.

"Well, her life at home isn't very good." Nicole said quietly, Emily stopped in her tracks; she had no doubt that Nicole was talking about herself, she remembered from the psychology courses she'd taken at Georgetown that sometimes children said it was their friends who were being hurt, it was easier for them to handle.

"What about it isn't very good?" Emily encouraged.

"Well, her mom ignores her." Nicole said, "And her mom doesn't care if my friend gets her homework done or if my friend gets sick or anything like that. Her dad, I think he hurts her - she hasn't said anything, but she doesn't like spending time with her dad."

"What's her name?" Emily asked her blood beginning to boil, she hated hearing about kids who got hurt at home; she just prayed that if this really was happening to Nicole, then the monsters who were her parents resisted being arrested. She would welcome the chance to get her own revenge on them for hurting Nicole.

A dial tone was the only response.

Flipping the phone shut, she wondered if she should call back. On one hand, if abuse was happening to Nicole, she had an obligation to alert child protective services. On the other hand, if Nicole was being abused, then it was possible that Nicole had hung up because one of her parents had walked into the room, calling her back could result in a worse punishment for her.

Getting into bed, she turned out the light and pulled the comforter up. She had made sure her phone was on, just in case.

She didn't receive anymore calls that night, only awakening again when her alarm went off at 5:45. It took everything she had to get ready and not let her thoughts linger on Nicole. But there had to be a reason for a one a.m. phone call. The profiler inside knew it. And she was obligated to do the right thing.

She knew she had to do something, but what?

"What you risk reveals what you value." Jeanette Winterson


Please review!

Follow me on twitter! I'm (at) authorsomeday