"Hotch," Rossi said, sinking into one of the leather chairs in the conference room, "what's this all about?"

"That new girl, I'm guessing," Prentiss gauged, entering the room ahead of Morgan and Reid. "Since when do interns work with the BAU?"

"She's not an intern," Hotch admitted, "She's a writer."

"A writer?" Morgan asked, drawing himself a chair. "What's a writer doing hanging around here?"

Hotch exhaled. "That's what I have to tell you all about." He lowered himself into his own chair. "Strauss received a request from the White House to," he paused, searching for the correct word, "raise morale."

"Peoples' faith in the government?" Reid clarified.

Hotch gave a curt nod. "She seemed to think it would be a point of public interest to publish something on what the most…interesting…units of the Bureau are like."

"She's right," Rossi mused. "People come from miles around to hear me talk about what we do."

"At any rate," Hotch rubbed at his temple. "We're under quite a bit of an obligation to…"

"To honor that request." Reid finished.

"To let some reporter follow us around like a paparazzi?" Morgan rephrased.

"Not a reporter," Hotch clarified, "an author."

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "An author?" He glanced toward the doorway. "Her? You gotta be kidding me, Hotch."

"She doesn't even look old enough to have graduated college," Prentiss continued. "Where the hell did Strauss even find her?"

"Actually," Garcia began, floating into the room in a flower-print dress, "it probably wasn't that hard." She brought a manila folder over to Hotch, opening it on the table in front of him. "Her name's Chloe. She's twenty-two, and her first novel ranked seventeenth on the New York Times' bestseller list for a few weeks."

Morgan snorted. "Strauss couldn't spring for sixteenth?"

"Actually, there are almost 300,000 books published each year in the U.S.," Reid rocked back in his chair, "anything ranked better than one hundred is considered extremely good writing."

"Regardless," Hotch said, "today is her first day."

"Of following us around and writing down everything we do?" Prentiss asked.

"Of…" Hotch raised his eyebrows and closed his eyes. "…of observing and taking notes for the published profile of the BAU."

"Morning, guys," JJ walked slowly into the room. The girl, Chloe, followed meekly behind her, looking from Morgan to Hotch with apprehensive eyes. "Looks like we're just in time."

Hotch stood up and reached forward to shake Chloe's hand. Having to let go of her composition notebook, she shifted uncomfortably. "I'm Aaron Hotchner." He gestured to the team members as he introduced them. "This is Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, technical analyst Penelope Garcia, and Dr. Spencer Reid." Chloe's blue-grey eyes lingered on Reid, giving a weak smile. "You've already met Jennifer Jareau, our press liaison."

"I'm Chloe," she drew her arm back to her notebook nervously, "Hi, everybody."

"Now that everyone's up to speed, let's get some things straight," Hotch continued seriously. JJ moved behind him to the television screen. Chloe swallowed hard, as if she could feel the animosity in the room increase as JJ left her side.

"You are here because of Erin Strauss and the White House," Hotch began. "Not me." He paused. "I am cooperating with my superiors by tolerating you."

Chloe gave a tiny flinch, stung by the harshness of his words, barely disguising her shock with a small nod. Reid watched as her jaw tightened minutely, bracing herself not to cry.

"This isn't some pet project for you to creatively run with," Hotch said tightly. "This is the Federal Bureau of Investigation, not a celebrity biography."

"I understand, sir," Chloe said quietly, nodding. Reid looked at Rossi, empathizing with the frightened girl. The two of them looked at Hotch, but he wouldn't meet their gaze.

"Every page of that notebook of yours will go through me," Hotch continued, pointing at the composition book in her arms. "And you will show me everything you write before it goes anywhere else."

Her head retracted slightly, nodding again. "Yes. I—I will."

"We see some of the most evil, unforgiving acts in this room," Hotch said, a little less harshly. "You need to not only be mindful of the confidentiality in this line of work, but you also need to develop a thick skin."

"I—I am, sir," Chloe said. "Believe me, sir, it's growing thicker by the second."

Hotch pressed his lips together. Rossi leaned forward, shooting a quick glance at Hotch to make sure he'd back off. "Why don't you have a seat?" Rossi asked quietly. "We're about to be briefed on a case."

Chloe nodded, taking a seat in the straight-backed chair by the door. When Reid looked back over at the girl, he saw her smile gratefully at Rossi, mouthing a Thank you.