Backbeat, the word was on the street
That the fire in your heart is out
I'm sure you've heard it all before
But you never really had a doubt
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now

-"Wonderwall" by Oasis

Alex tucked her hair behind her ear as she fitted her gold key in the lock of the library door. It made a satisfying click, and after some resistance the tall heavy door swung open. She flicked on the lights and smiled.

The library was in the oldest part of the main building, tucked away in the east wing. She loved it- the tall iron-framed glass windows, the vaulted ceilings, the paneled walls. And the books- shelves and shelves and shelves of books. When she was a little girl growing up in Kansas, her library was in a strip mall next to the post office, with flickering fluorescent lights and the scent of envelope glue. The first time she stepped into the St. Thaddeus library she nearly stopped breathing.

Her steps were quiet on the hardwood floors and she hummed lightly under her breath. She loved having the entire library all to herself, it was one of the best parts of working there. It was her third year as a student librarian- her last year, but she didn't want to think about that.

She stepped behind the broad circulation desk and unlocked the office door. It was dark and the AC was even colder inside, the air slightly musty from a summer closed up. She fumbled in the dark to turn on the lamp over her desk. Her nameplate from the year before was still tacked up but the rest of the desk was bare.

She set her tote bag down, still singing quietly under her breath as she unpacked knickknacks and a mason jar full of brightly colored pens. The larger picture frame with the photo of her parents and her two older brothers she propped up in one corner; the smaller one of her with David and James she hung up on on her memo board.

It had been her mother's idea to send her to St. Thaddeus. Her dad didn't want her to go. More than a few times during her eighth grade year she stayed up to sit on the staircase, leaning against the banister, and listen to them argue.

"I don't know why you want to send her away."

"We're not sending her away, we're giving her a better opportunity."

"Why does she need a better opportunity? Her brothers are both going to the schools here, they're turning out just fine."

"Danny and Scotty have wanted to follow in your footsteps since they were babies. They've never wanted to leave this town. But she...she's so smart, she's-"

"So are her brothers!"

"Yes, but...she needs to get out of here. She has bigger dreams than them. Than us. We need to give her a chance."

Her dad had finally asked her about it, one morning at breakfast. He walked into the kitchen, holding the stack of brightly colored brochures her mother had collected for different boarding schools across the country, and set them down beside her cereal bowl.

"So," he had said quietly. "You want to go, Lexy?"

She did. She did want to go. And she chose St. Thaddeus School, because they had half a dozen languages classes, and that's what she wanted. She didn't want the half-hearted Spanish class at the local high school, the only class they offered, where she could learn that gato meant cat and perro meant dog and fill out painfully simple worksheets, when she wanted to actually speak the language, understand it. For so long she'd tried to teach herself languages on her own, checking out outdated books on tape from the local library and draining the batteries on her mother's elderly walkman, trying to speak new languages when she had no one to talk to. She wanted to learn at a school where other people wanted to learn as much as she did. She wanted to dance at a studio that wasn't an video rental place in a strip mall. She wanted to read in a library with books she'd never read before.

She wanted to go where she wasn't Captain Miller's daughter, wasn't Danny's kid sister, wasn't "the girl who reads all the time."

But then, of course, the discussion turned from why should we send her away for school to how can we afford to send her to school. She took care of that. She interrupted another midnight argument, stomping down the stairs in her pajamas, and dropped the letters on the table between them, and they jumped like she'd thrown a hand grenade.

"I got a scholarship," she had informed them. "A couple of them. A partial for academics, a partial for ballet. And I'm going to work a job on campus. It won't be a lot, but that way you won't have to worry about giving me spending money, at least."

They'd been surprised, like she thought they would be, and upset, which she hadn't expected. But it made sense, eventually. She was their only girl. Her father had been the chief of police in their small town since before she was born, and he'd gotten it into his head that she needed to protected and provided for without any input of her own.

But she'd set her mind to it, and they knew they couldn't convince Alexandra Miller of anything when her mind was made up, and she started ninth grade at St. Thaddeus in the fall. She immediately dyed her long plain brown hair a flame-tinted auburn and asked everyone to call her Alex, and she took three language classes that first year, and she was chosen to dance a variation in the end of the year recital, and she was assigned to work as a student librarian.

She'd spent the past three years living in the library, taking careful care of her books, helping frantic students research for essays and projects they'd forgotten about, recommending novels to homesick kids who needed a distraction. This would be her last year as a guardian angel in her library, and it was bittersweet.

She rearranged the knicknacks on her desk and ran her hand over the pens in the jar to shake them up. Her gold nameplate looked a little dull; she brushed a summer's worth of dust away to make it shine again.

"What are you singing?"

She jumped, toppling over the jar of pens. "Oh my god!" she said.

"Sorry, sorry," James said sheepishly. "You forgot your phone, and since Emily said you weren't in your room I figured you'd be here."

"Oh my god," she sighed as he held out her phone. "I've been so distracted. Thanks for bringing it back to me."

He grinned and righted the glass jar. "No problem," he said as he dropped the pens back inside one by one. "You need a hand with anything? Other than the things I destroyed."

"No, I'm good," she said, laughing. She adjusted the larger photo frame. "I probably could have done this tomorrow, but...I don't know. I kind of missed this place."

"Yeah, this is your natural habitat," he said. He sat down on the supervisor's desk and leaned his elbows on his knees. "It's crazy that it's our senior year, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," she said. She pulled herself up to sit on the desk beside him. "One year to go, and then we're off to college." She nudged him lightly. "How's your applications going?"

"Good," he sighed. "I guess. I've got a dream college...and a backup…and a realistic choice." He shrugged. "Technically I could be pre-med anywhere, though."

"Oh, you'll get into a great school," she reassured him. "And then a great medical school, and then you'll be an amazing doctor."

He smiled at her. "And you'll learn all the languages you can possibly find," he said.

"I mean, I can try," she laughed. "That might be impossible, though."

"If anyone could do it, it'd be you," he said.

She almost laughed, but he was so earnest, smiling at her like she was sunshine after a storm. "I can try," she said again instead, turning her phone around in her hands. "And hey, who knows. Maybe we'll end up at the same college."

He cleared his throat, turning towards her, their knees touching. "You know, Alex, I was thinking-"

Her phone vibrated, incredibly loud in the quiet room. "Oh, shit," she said, checking her lockscreen. "Dave's waiting for us." She hopped down from the desk. "We'd better go, I had no idea how late it was." She flipped off her desk lamp and waited for James to follow her. "Good thing you brought me my phone, huh?"


Penelope beamed as she looked out over the crowded courtyard, lit by streetlamps and strings of twinkle lights as the late summer sun started to set. There were booths as far as the eye could see, decorated with balloons and handmade posterboard signs, all advertising for different clubs and sports teams and activities.

"There's so many options," JJ remarked.

"And I'm going to sign up for as many as possible," Penelope said gleefully, rocking up on her toes. "Come on, let's go!"

"Do I have to be here?" Spencer asked. "Can't I just go back to the dorms?"

"This shouldn't take too long," Hotch said. "We'll go do signups, and then we'll go get ice cream at the student union. Deal?"

Spencer sighed. "Deal, I guess," he said.

"Come on, let's start with sports," Derek said, grabbing Penelope's hand. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"Jesus, Morgan, it's just signups, you're not late for tryouts," she laughed.

"Yeah, but I've got to make a good impression," he said. He slowed down, letting her catch up with him. "See, last year I didn't make varsity. I was stuck playing JV. This year I'm gonna make varsity."

"Of course you will," she said.

He grinned. "I appreciate your confidence, baby girl," he said. "Hotch doesn't think I'll make it."

"Why?" she said, scowling.

Derek glanced back over his shoulder at Hotch and Spencer trailing behind them in the crowd. "Lincoln kids don't usually make it on varsity," he said. "And definitely not as a sophomore."

Penelope linked her arm through his. "Well, I'm positive you'll make it this year," she said.

She marched him up to the football table, but his resolve seemed to waver the closer he got. The man behind the table glanced up as he approached. "Morgan, good to see you," he said. "Signing up?"

"Uh...yeah," Derek said. Penelope frowned. He was acting shy, and that didn't seem right. Granted, she'd only known him two days, but it still didn't seem right.

"He's going to try out for varsity," she announced

The coach laughed. "Yeah, yeah, we'll see," he said. He handed Derek the clipboard. "Go on, sign up for tryouts."

Morgan took it reluctantly and looked around for a pen. Penelope took a purple sharpie out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Really?" he said. She shrugged, and he signed his name anyway.

"We'll see you on the field tomorrow, Morgan," the coach said. "Three-thirty sharp. Earlier if you want to meet the new coaching team."

"Yes, sir," Derek said. He handed the clipboard back. "Thank you."

He walked away fast from the table, blowing out a relieved exhalation. "That guy is scary," Penelope said. "You want to be on a football team with him?"

Derek rolled his shoulders. "Yeah, I don't really have a choice," he said. "Whew. At least it's done." He looked around. "All right...there's Hotch and Spencer, sitting around waiting. Where's JJ?"

Penelope looked around, turning herself in a complete circle. "Oh! There she is!"

JJ was easy to spot in her pink top and her long blonde hair pulled over one shoulder, staring thoutghtfully at a poster. Penelope grabbed Derek's hand to catch up. "Hey! Jayje!" she called.

She didn't turn around, and didn't seem to notice either of them until they were right next to her. "Oh, hey," she said. "What are you two doing?"

"Signing Derek up for football," Penelope said. She tilted her head back to look at the booth. "Oh, you're going to sign up for soccer? I didn't know you played."

JJ looked up at the neon pink poster with black bubble letters and soccer ball stickers. "I don't," she said. "But I do now, I think." She picked up the clipboard and signed her name on the list in neat scratchy cursive. "Or at least...I'll try out and see what happens."

Penelope clapped her hands. "Yes! I've always wanted athletic friends!" she said. "I'll come to all your games."

"What about you, baby girl?" Derek asked. "Are you signing up for sports?"

She dropped her hands on her hips. "Are you kidding?" she said. "I don't run. I wasn't built for it. And way too many sports require running." She scanned the aisle of sports booths- basketball, baseball, field hockey- and caught sight of a couple of senior girls in identical navy tee shirts with gold lettering, their hair tied back with big perfectly tied bows. "Oh! But I have thought about cheerleading."

Derek shook his head. "Nah, you wouldn't like that," he said. "They run laps before every practice."

She wrinkled her nose, making her glasses slide around. "Ugh, never mind," she said. "So what else are you signing up for?"

"Just football," he said with a broad grin. "I gotta show them I'm committed, I don't want any conflicts."

Penelope turned to JJ. "What about you, Jayje? Just soccer?"

She shrugged. "Volleyball too," she said. "Maybe model UN, I don't know."

"Ooh, model UN, I hadn't thought of that!" Penelope said. She tugged her pink sequined backpack off her shoulder and dug around for her new student folder. "No, I missed it! Quick, Derek, do you still have my sharpie?" He handed it over and she circled it in purple marker, the ink smearing a little bit under her palm. "Perfect."

"Hey, guys," Hotch called, tugging Spencer along with him through the crowd. "How's it going?"

"I'm good," Derek said. "I don't think Penelope is, though."

She unfurled the brochure. "I have a list," she said proudly.

JJ laughed. "I was going to look around a little bit more too," she said.

Hotch sighed. "Well, Spencer's getting antsy," he said. "I think the crowd is making him a little stressed."

"I'm not stressed, I just don't like crowds. My face is elbow height on most people," Spencer added.

"Derek, can you take him to the student union? I'll stay with the girls and we'll meet you when you're done. I'm just worried about him."

"Yeah, I can watch the kid," he said. "You guys have fun. Penelope...don't sign up for everything, baby girl. You won't survive the school year."

"I make no promises!" she said cheerfully.

Hotch stuck his hands in his back pockets as Derek walked Spencer out of the crowded courtyard. "All right, so what next?" he said.

"I don't know, Penelope's the one with the list," JJ said.

Penelope held the brochure up and squinted in the fading late afternoon light; the glossy paper was creased white at the foldlines. "I'm not sure," she said. "Let's just wander! I might change my mind on a few things."

"Well, lead the way, then," Hotch said. He glanced around at the sports booths and the corner of his mouth tugged down.

"What about you?" Penelope asked. "You seem like...a basketball player. Did I get it?" She scrunched up her nose. "No, wait. Baseball? Baseball."

Hotch laughed. "Yeah, you got it, actually," he said. "I used to play baseball when I was a kid. I don't have the time for time for it anymore. But let's go ahead and get this taken care of, okay?"

"All right, all right, I can take the hint," she said.

She navigated the courtyard with Hotch and JJ trailing behind her, scrutinizing each booth as she passed by. This was what she'd been waiting for all summer, after she was informed she was getting sent to boarding school.

There hadn't been any discussion or other options. It was decided whether she liked it or not. She had spent a week moping and feeling horribly sorry for herself. There had been too much change in her life over the past two years, and she did not like change.

But things were going to change whether she liked them or not, and slowly she came around to the idea, especially when the shiny new info packets started to arrive, and she started to plan her new school year. Because that was what she did when things felt out of control- she made plans and made the changes her own.

She'd spent the past few months poring over all the new information and planning ahead. The extracurriculars brochure was covered in her sharpie marks, picking out her new future. A whole new world had opened up for her, away from her sleepy California suburb and her grandparents' smothering rules, and she was going to get everything out of it that she could.

"Hey, there's the model UN table," JJ said. "Do you want to go sign up?"

"Yes!" she said. "Absolutely!"

She hadn't thought about joining model UN, it seemed like way too many rules to follow, but if JJ was going to sign up, she would too. Any amount of rules would be worth it if she could spend time with new friends. She hadn't had many of those in California, especially once she had to leave San Francisco and live with her grandparents.

"Have you done model UN before?" Penelope asked as JJ signed her name. "I have no idea how it works."

"I haven't, but my sister did when she was in high school," JJ said, handing her the clipboard.

Penelope signed her name in bright purple. "Oh, did she like it?"

"Uh-huh," JJ said. "Oh, look, there's a debate team. I think you'd be good at that."

"You know me so well already!" Penelope said. "Oh, yeah, I'm going to try this too."

She darted over and reached for the list, but someone stretched around her and picked it up first. "Hey!" she protested.

She turned around to see two upperclassman girls behind her; the one holding the clipboard had dark hair streaked heavily with bright cobalt blue and she was dressed like she was going to a concert in an underground venue rather than a prep school. "Sorry, kid, just a second," she said.

The other girl sighed. "Sorry about Emily, she's been walking in circles trying to pick something and this is the first thing that she finally agreed to do," she said.

"Listen, Ambassador Prentiss said I was required to sign up for one extracurricular activity, and if I have to spend a couple of hours a week in a stupid club, I might as well spend it arguing," Emily said. She held out the clipboard. "Here you go. Need a pen?"

"I brought my own," Penelope said. "Also, I am in love with your hair."

"Thanks," Emily said. "And I like your...pink glasses."

"Thank you!" she said. "I have glasses in like, every color. Contacts are the worst, but I'm completely blind without them, like Vema from Scooby Doo blind, so if I have to wear glasses they might as well be cute."

Emily laughed. "Yeah, you've got a point, I guess," she said. "See you at debate club, I guess."

"Yeah!" Penelope said. "I'll see you soon!" She turned to JJ. "I'm making friends everywhere!"

"You do seem have a knack for that," JJ said, smiling, and Penelope beamed.


"Penelope, you can't sign up for everything," Hotch sighed.

She turned herself around in circles. "Okay, okay, just one more," she pleaded.

"That's what you said twenty minutes ago," JJ said.

"No, really, this is the last one, I swear," Penelope said. "It's the last one, right over there. It'll take two seconds."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Hotch called as he trailed behind her. "God, is she always this energetic?"

"As far as I can tell...this is just the tip of the iceberg," JJ said, but she laughed.

He probably could have let them wander on their own- they weren't even his actual responsibility, they didn't live on his floor- but they were only freshmen, and he couldn't leave them on their own. He still remembered his first semester, getting himself hopelessly lost on the vast campus and eating lunch alone because he couldn't find friends. He didn't want other kids to deal with that, not if he could help it.

And besides, he had already taken on Derek and Spencer. He could add two little freshmen girls. But that was enough responsibility, he didn't need to add anybody else.

"There!" Penelope said. "This is the last one, for sure, I promise, cross my heart and hope to die. This is the most important one."

"Theatre club?" JJ said. "You know...I feel like I should have guessed it."

"St. Thaddeus has a great theatre program," Penelope said. "Especially musical theatre. Do you guys want to sign up with me?"

JJ shrugged. "I don't think so," she said. "I'm not much of a...musical theatre person."

"What about you, Hotch?" Penelope asked.

"Me?" he said. "Is there anything about me that screams 'this guy does musical theatre'?"

"Well, I don't like to make assumptions," Penelope said. "You could surprise me."

A girl in a theatre club tee shirt stepped out from behind the table. "Hi, do you guys want to sign up?" she asked. "We're filling up fast, but we still have some slots left."

His stomach unexpectedly backflipped. Penelope launched into a conversation as if she'd known the girl her entire life, but he was sure he couldn't speak even if someone paid him. He felt like he was going to throw up. Maybe he had food poisoning

"Oh, Penelope, that's a pretty name," the girl said, looking at the purple signature. "I'm Haley. Are you a freshman?"

"I am!" Penelope said. "I skipped eighth grade, I'm only thirteen, I was going to be the youngest student in ninth grade here, but I got beat by a ten-year-old. Who knew, right?"

Haley laughed and it sounded like music. He had to be dying. An aneurysm, maybe?

"This is my roommate, JJ," Penelope was saying. "She's a freshman too. And this is Hotch."

Haley turned to him, making direct eye contact, and now he absolutely wished he was could have an aneurysm right that second. "Hotch?" Haley said.

"Hotchner," he blurted out. "It's, uh, my last name, kind of, everybody calls me Hotch, it's, uh….a lot easier…"

Haley didn't seem to notice his word vomit, or at least was too polite to notice. "What's your first name?" she asked.

He hated his first name, hated it with a passion. "Aaron," he said.

"Aaron?" she repeated. "Oh, that's a nice name."

"Thanks, my dad gave it to me," he said, and he immediately wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"That's funny," she laughed, and his heart skipped against his ribcage. What were the symptoms of Lyme disease? Maybe it was Lyme disease. "Aaron, do you want to sign up for theatre club too?"

"Oh, he's not-" Penelope started to say.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I'd love to sign up."

He signed his name hastily and when she took the ballpoint pen back, her soft fingertips brushed the back of his hand and suddenly his skin felt like it was on fire. Lyme disease. Definitely Lyme disease.

"We'll have our first meeting soon, so just keep checking your student emails," Haley was saying. "And we'll have announcements for the fall show soon, audition dates will be posted soon. I can't wait for you two to join us!"

"Thanks, Haley!" Penelope said. She jabbed Hotch in the ribs and he jumped like he'd been electrocuted.

"Yeah, um...thanks," he said. "Haley."

She smiled again, and this time it felt like the smile was only for him, and he smiled back. But she was distracted quickly by another student coming up to ask her a question, and he didn't realize that he hadn't moved until JJ tugged on his wrist.

"What?" he said, irritated, the spell broken.

"Let's go," she said. "Before Penelope decides to sign up for more activities, or you start drooling."

"I'm...I'm not...I wasn't," he sputtered. "I have Lyme disease."

"Sure you do," JJ said.

He followed her out of the crowd; Penelope was waiting at the top of the steps with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. "Wow, if it isn't Mister 'I Don't Do Musical Theatre'," she said.

"Come on, let's get to the student union before it closes," he said.

Penelope jogged after him. "I thought you didn't have time for extracurriculars," she teased. "You know theatre can be extremely time-consuming, right?"

"If you can sign up for ten clubs, I can sign up for one," he said.

"Eleven. I added ukulele club."

"Jesus, Penelope."


"All right, Emily, say goodbye to the blue hair."

Emily frowned at her reflection in the mirror. "Goodbye, blue," she said. She ran her hands wistfully through her hair. "You don't think there's a way I can hide it?"

"Unfortunately, not a chance," Alex said. Her wet, freshly dyed hair hung over her shoulders to the middle of her back, making wet splotches on her pajama top. "They're pretty strict about hair colors. Jewelry you can hide, they don't always notice nail polish...but an 'unnatural' hair color will get you in major trouble."

Emily twisted a chunk of blue around her fingers. "A hat or something?" she said.

"Those aren't allowed either."

She sighed and flipped her hair back. "Fine," she said. "Go on, I guess."

Alex brushed out her hair and divided into sections, pinning them up with clips. The black hair dye smelled painfully strong even with their dorm room window opened, and Emily scowled as Alex began painting over the electric blue.

"It won't be so bad," Alex said. "The black will still look good."

"I hope so," Emily said. "Thanks for doing this, by the way. I'm terrible at dyeing my own hair. I had to pay a lot of money to get this done in the first place. My mom was so pissed."

Alex laughed. "I've had a lot of practice, I've been dyeing my hair red since I was a freshman," she said. "I went home for Thanksgiving break and my dad about hit the roof. He's gotten used to it though."

"Yeah, my mom never got used to the blue," Emily said. "Before this it was green, and before that it was purple."

"And your school in Italy let you get away with it?"

Emily shrugged. "It was a school for rich Americans to send their spoiled brats, nobody cared about anything," she said. "We ran a little wild." She paused as Alex unclipped another section of her hair. "I guess that's why the ambassador sent me here."

"Is she really an ambassador?" Alex asked.

"Oh, yeah," Emily said. "She's been stationed everywhere. We've moved like...six times."

"What about your dad?"

"Fuck if I know," Emily said. "I've never met him."

Alex paused. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to pry."

Emily half shrugged, trying not to upset Alex's work. "Don't feel bad," she said. "I don't. It's hard to be bothered about somebody you don't know anything about." She shifted her weight on the chair. "So what should I expect for the first day of school tomorrow? I have a feeling it's going to be slightly different from what I'm used to."

"Oh, slightly," Alex said as she went back to covering her hair in the dark dye. "And you'll get lost at least once tomorrow. Everybody does."

"That's going to suck," Emily said grimly. Almost all of the blue was gone out of her hair now, and she hated it.

"Give it a week or two, and you'll know the whole place like the back of your hand," Alex promised. "It won't be so bad. And it really is a good school. Classes are great." She unclipped another section, letting it tumble down, and pinned the clip to the neckline of her shirt. "I've spent two years campaigning for a sign language class and they finally added it as an elective."

"Yeah, I don't think I'm looking forward to any classes, if I'm being honest," Emily said. "My mom picked everything for me. I didn't even know I was getting shipped out here until a month ago."

"Yeah...that sucks," Alex said. "I'd probably feel the same if it was me." She was on the last section now, and Emily watched her frown in concentration as she painted the black dye. "But hopefully it won't be so bad."

"Hopefully," Emily echoed.

Alex set down the brush and eyed Emily critically, then peeled off her gloves. "I think that's good," she said. "I'll set a timer."

Emily played on her phone aimlessly while the dye sat in her hair and Alex packed her messenger bag with brand new school supplies. When the timer went off she got in the shower and washed it out, watching rivulets of black swirl down the drain. It was so stupid, and she could easily fix it back once she was out of here, but at the same it felt like she had to say goodbye to a part of herself.

She walked back to the room and closed the door behind her. "Well," she said. "How do I look?"

Alex looked up from the textbooks she was labeling with her name and a slow smile crept across her face. "Stand a little more under the light," she said. "A little more...there."

"Okay, why?" Emily asked.

"Because you can still see the blue in the right light," Alex said, and Emily grinned at her.


Author's Notes:

Hi yes hello I love these sweet babies. And I'm really excited that you guys love them too! I'm having a great time.

This is turning into a majorly slow burn kind of fic, but I like it? And there's a lot of plotlines that I need to set up. But there's going to be a lot of angst coming up. And a lot of super adorable stuff. And they're all going to be a family! I cannot get enough found family stuff.

Also Alex Blake is a queen. I love the bit in the series when Spencer points out that she mumbles song lyrics under her breath when she's thinking. (Also, she's definitely singing "Wonderwall" to herself in this chapter.)

Thank you to ItsEmilyFreakingPrentiss, CriminalMindsGoneWrong (who is one of my favorite pals to scream about this story ahhhh), Cimminds, ferret54, sweetkid45, It's Morley to You, Tumbles3, Cat, tearbos, DestinyDragon101, and a guest for reviewing! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter too.

And I'm themetaphorgirl on tumblr if you'd like to read more drabbles in the verse or learn more about these kids!