Okay, I don't own anything to do with the perfection that is CM or any of its affiliations. I do, however, have the pleasure of owning my OC, Charlotte. Hope you enjoy the story - and have a great day!

Charlotte POV

After Reid sprinted away, Morgan and I just stared at each other for a few moments, before he excused himself, saying that he needed to go and speak to Hotch, something to do with the case we were supposed to be working on. I nodded, and went about personalising my segment of the office. I liked the aesthetic of the bureau - the way it worked, everyone moved in sync, and nothing was out of place. It was refreshing, considering I had spent the last few years holed up with a bunch of sweaty, narcissistic men, with egos the size of the titanic, and IQ's lower than that of a piece of cloth.

I shivered at the thought.

It didn't take long for my day to start getting interesting, as now an hour after having logged onto the server, I felt my chair being turned around without my permission.

"Hello, Charlotte."

I smirked up at Agent Ledger, AKA Ryan, and I replied, politely, "Agent."

He frowned, and said, finally, "None of that. Nobody's listening, you can talk freely."

I smiled, brightly, and replied, "Thank God, I thought I'd explode if I had to call you Agent," I made a face of disgust, and continued, nervously, "I don't know anyone here, Ry."

I glanced at the floor, and he tugged at my chin, slightly. Anyone who looked on at this would probably think that Ryan and I were an 'item'. Even I had to admit that this would be a little.. Strange. He stared deeply into my eyes, and I suddenly noticed how close we actually were; I could see the flecks of gold and green in his irises.

He said, strongly, "Don't worry about it, Charl. You'll make connections, friends even. The people here actually care about their colleagues. Stop worrying so much," he pressed his thumb against the creases between my eyebrows, and said, jokingly, "You'll give yourself wrinkles."

I smiled, and he returned it with his own.

"So, what are you doing?"

I shrugged, minutely, and said, "Making my desk more 'Me' I suppose."

He smirked, and said, "Well, there's not much to work with is there?"

I shook my head, slightly, and he sighed, and drew a chair from somewhere else and sat next to me, looking just as proper and dapper as he always had. A sudden thought ran through my mind and I asked, "Where's Jake? Aren't you supposed to be together, like, all the time?"

He nodded, and said, "He's downstairs. Getting you a coffee, as a matter of fact."

I smiled, brightly at this, and shuffled closer to Ryan's gentle aura. For some reason, I had never felt more safer than I had with these two men. According to Doctor Bird, I showed signs of suffering from slight post traumatic stress disorder for the first few weeks after waking up from the medically induced coma, and the trauma would always be with me, even after being discharged from the hospital. Ryan and Damien promised that they would always be there for me - protecting me, reassuring me, keeping me sane. Once they broke through my abrasive wall, they were literally enclosed in my heart.

He nudged my shoulder with his own slightly, and stated, adorably, "We were kind of worried about you, you know."

I glanced at him, questioningly, and he elaborated, "Your first day. We didn't know how it would go."

I raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and huffed, childishly, "Well it's going fine, thank you very much."

He smirked, knowingly, but said nothing more on the matter. Not because he didn't want to, but because Damien chose this moment to grace my desk with a steaming mug of coffee, and I rubbed an approving hand on his shoulder, as he, also, stole a seat from somewhere and took a seat in front of me. He chuckled, asked, sardonically, "So you're fine, huh?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

He laughed, and I heard Ryan join in a little while later. I screwed my face up slightly, and out of my peripherals, I saw some of my new workmates - can I say that yet? - stare, quizzically, and I couldn't help but blush brightly under their inspection. I didn't like being under such intense pressure, and I think the two agents sitting beside me could tell, as they sobered up, rather quickly.

Jake scratched behind his ear, a habit he said he had picked up as a child, and said, rather quietly, "Sorry, Charl.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I sniffed, and turned my head away, only to catch the eye of Aaron Hotchner. He indicated that I needed to come to his office, with his index and middle finger, and I nodded, dutifully.

"Bear with me, guys. I have somewhere to be."

They nodded, understandingly, and I began walking over to my new boss' office. I pushed open the door, slightly, after knocking, of course, and I stepped inside. He opened his palm and indicated at the comfortable looking, business-like chairs, and said, "Take a seat, Charlotte."

I followed his orders, obviously, and he took his time in making me feel incredibly anxious and out of sorts.

Had I done something wrong? Already? I couldn't have fucked up so fast, could I? I mean, shit, really? What is fucking wrong with me?

Nervously, I picked at the cuticles of my finger beds, and I couldn't breathe, properly. I felt my palms become clammy and my heart tripled in speed, somehow. He continued reading over his manila folders, as he asked, nonchalantly, "Do you know why you're here?"

I shook my head, too nervous to speak, and I bit my tongue, tersely, in unease. He glanced up at me, a sense of subdued authority pressed down onto my shoulders, and he said, casually, "You seem a little friendly with those two agents out there. You know them?"

I nodded, and said, rather quietly, "They've been a big help for me while I've been in Virginia."

He nodded, dutifully, and said, "How did you meet them, might I ask?"

A cleft appeared between my brows, and asked, "Sir, do you not know?"

He shook his head, while still continuing scrawling away at the papers on his desk. He practically radiated an air of nonchalance, however, I could tell from the tenseness in his fingers and shoulders than he was paying special attention to what I was saying. I reclined, slightly, in the chair I was sitting in, and lamented, "There were at the precinct my first day back, they escorted me here, helped me with the house and everything. They have done so much for me, and I couldn't have done this without them."

He paused for a moment, and stared directly in my eyes, searching for something that I couldn't quite understand, however, after a few moments, he nodded, somewhat understandingly.

He indicated at the door, and said, dismissively yet with a quality of courtesy, "Okay, thank you. You're free to leave, now."

I nodded, and as I stood, he said, suddenly, "I hope you're enjoying yourself here," then with a smile in my direction, "You remember that we are leaving at six tonight. You can leave at 4, today, get your Go-bag ready and sort out your affairs."

I nodded, thankfully, and walked out of the office, only to see that Ryan and Damien had already left; my cup of coffee still sitting on my desk, seemingly lonesome, considering the vivaciousness of the office itself.

Okay, thanks guys! Have a great day!