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!

My first day went pretty quickly, if I were being honest, and I spent majority of the time at my desk, typing up reports, similar to how I would back in New York - sometimes I'd be called into Hotch's office, and he would ask me about how I was fitting and whatnot, and I would smile, and placate him quickly, eager to get back to my job.

Little did I know that my 'job' didn't actually completely involve case work, which is what I had counted on, and, in fact, I was to go out on recon tasks with whichever agent I was assigned to shadow on any particular day. Today, thankfully, it was JJ, and we got to know each other a little better.

It was nice to be around a friendly face for the day, and she eased me in on her responsibilities as the Communications Director and Media Liaison.

I didn't realise their job was so fucking demanding!

She told me about her son, Henry, and showed me a few pictures when we had gotten something quick to eat from a hotdog stand somewhere in the lower eastside of Virginia. I, in turn, told her about my life back in New York, and how much I preferred Quantico to back there, and she would laugh, adorably, and go on about her husband, Will, who, it turns out, I did recognise, but not because of his name, but his face.

Whenever I would go back to New Orleans, sometimes to lay flowers on the graves of the women and men my father killed, and other times just to enjoy the weather and take note on how much the city had changed, I would see him, canvassing the area, sometimes. I had already known him to be a cop, what with his business-like stature and official aura, but, the word around the town was that he was a great man, just like his daddy.

I decided to keep all of this to myself, however, as I didn't want to appear in any way nosy or rude, especially to JJ, who had taken her time to get to know me throughout the busy day. It was save to say that by the time four came around, JJ and I were fairly close, and I had learned a lot about her, and she, sequentially, discovered quite a bit about me.

By the time four o'clock rolled around, I was a little more worn out than I would be normally, however, I knew I would have time to relax once I had gotten home.

After saying my goodbye's to everyone I passed, I stepped out onto the street, and drew my blazer further towards my body as a brusque blast of wind attacked my for, and I twiddled my toes, noticing how bloody cold they actually were. Thankfully I had swapped my flats for Converse hours ago, as my feet felt far too close to the ground for my liking, and Virginia seemed to have accumulated some very sharp, hard rocks that pressed, uncomfortably, into the soles of my feet every time I stepped onto one.

"Hey! Wait up a second!"

I heard the muffled shout of a voice I somewhat recognised call after me, and as I turned, I saw the face of one David Rossi jogging up to me, slightly red-cheeked, and out of breath. I sniggered, quietly, yet he noticed, and rolled his eyes in faux-annoyance.

"Why.. Are you.. Walking?"

I smiled, softly, and said, "I was going to call a cab when I reached the corner, why?"

He grinned, smoothly, and said, more in control of his breathing, "I could drop you home, I suppose."

I laughed, and pushed his shoulder, lightly, and agreed, "That would be nice, thank you."

We walked side-by-side, until we reached his slate grey, Audi Q5, that had been parked on the opposite side of the BAU headquarters.

I asked, astonished, "How did you get such a sweet parking space?"

He chuckled, then replied, suavely, "Seniority."

He pressed some button on his car key, and I immediately slid into the front seat of the car, noticing how unnaturally warm the seats already were. I gave him a questioning glance, as he sat in the drivers seat, and he simply said, "Automatic in-car heating."

I 'ahh'-ed quietly, and began drumming my fingers on the dashboard, after having tightened my seatbelt. As he started up the car, I relaxed in the cream leather seat, and he asked, "How did your first day go?"

I smiled, and said, "Yeah, it was nice."

He enquired, curiously, "Just 'nice'?"

I turned my head towards him, and I felt all of the weariness from the very long day suddenly weigh down on my shoulders, and I said, "No.. It was brilliant, but I'm just really, really tired for some reason."

He smiled, knowingly, and stated, "Your first day always will be. But I'm glad you've had a good day."

I nodded, appreciatively, and after a beat of somewhat stilled silence, and he asked, "Where do you live, exactly?"

My eyes had closed without my permission, and I mumbled, sleepily, "346th and Crossway, off Pique Street."

He made a noise of approval, and I added, "It's a nice area, I like it there."

I rested my head against the slightly condensed glass, and I felt the cool sensation rush through the nerves in my skin - a welcome change to the heat running through my underside. I huffed, and asked, "Does it always feel this tiring?"

He chuckled, roughly in his throat, and said, nonchalantly, "Yes, but you get used to it, and, anyway, it's a really rewarding job."

I nodded, understanding completely, and I yawned, while covering my mouth, politely, and enquired, "How long have you been working for the BAU, anyway?"

He grinned, somewhat shyly now, and said, "Coming up 5 years now, but I've been a part of the FBI for years, so all together, just over 26 years."

I gasped, shocked at the sheer length of years he had dedicated his life to this career. He added, nonchalantly, "And yourself?"

He turned the corner, and the bumpiness resounded through my form, and I stammered, "Only 4 years. I feel like a bit of a baby."

He chuckled, and pulled up to the curb by my house. He switched off the car, and glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and said, "This is you."

I nodded, and gathered my small satchel in my hands, and turned to him, and affirmed, "So.. 6 right?"

He nodded, and I left the car, making my way up to my front door, to give a small wave in his direction. He drove away, and I chuckled as I let myself in. I dropped my bag on the floor, and glanced at the clock above my sofa, and saw it was just after 4:30 in the afternoon. I had no time to dawdle; if Morgan was coming for half 5, then my day was just beginning.