"Sorry to interrupt, but I was told to report here this morning. I'm Angelique Deville, your new analyst." When no one replied and only continued to stare, Angelique's face heated with embarrassment and she gripped her laptop closer to her chest. "I... I'm s-sorry, I must have got the department wrong. Pardonnez-moi...forgive me."
Hotch recovering from his shock first, quickly spoke before Angelique could leave. "No, no please, come in. You're in the right department. I'm Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. Welcome. This is Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Dr. Spencer Reid, and Derek Morgan. Please, take a seat."
Angelique shook hands with her new boss and simply nodded in response to the rest of the team's introductions. Everyone was still staring rather intently at her, making her feel very self-conscious and nervous. She hated when she was nervous - she tended to slip into her native French and generally made the situation worse, so she kept her lips pressed tightly together, especially when her gaze met the dark eyes of one Derek Morgan. He was hands down, one of the most attractive men she'd ever had the pleasure to lay her eyes upon and he was looking at her like she was the last woman on earth. It was as unsettling as it was thrilling.
After everyone took their seats, she realized the only open spot was beside none other than the gorgeous Derek and she nearly groaned aloud, her stomach plummeting to her feet in anxiety; a buzzing nest of nerves taking its place. Keeping her eyes averted, she quickly slipped into her seat and promptly began setting up her laptop. Luckily, she was a quick study and it only took minutes for her to get caught up to speed on the case. Her fingers began to fly with lightning speed across her keyboard as she began initiating searches and chasing down relative information faster then they could ask.
Once his heart restarted, his eyes never left her face. Derek couldn't help himself. The resemblance was uncanny. Except for the dark green eyes and light French accent, she could have easily passed for his Baby Girl, right down to the red hair and ruby lips. He lingered on her eyes before ghosting down to her cheeks, and then over to her nose. When she lightly bit down at her bottom lip in concentration, his eyes darkened perceptibly, zeroing in and locking on her parted lips like a heat seeking missile. For the second time in less than 15 minutes, he felt his heart falter in his chest.
Angelique purposely kept her eyes firmly on her task, but no matter what she did, she could still feel his probing stare. Instead of making her uncomfortable like it should have, it carried with it an air of excitement and made her feel something she couldn't quite put into words. Unable to help herself, she glanced up and her eyes were instantly captured and held by his deep chocolate-brown gaze. She was completely mesmerized as she not only watched, but felt his eyes slowly trace over her face like the gentle caress of a lover's fingertips. Her heart fluttered madly in her chest, her breathing slightly erratic, and still she couldn't look away. A ping from her computer finally broke the magical spell he'd woven over her. She visibly swallowed and turned back to her computer, calm immediately ensuing at the information on her screen.
"My, my, my what do we have here? I do believe Ms. Christina Marx has been a very naughty girl. Until three years ago, as far as I can tell, she never existed. No paper trail of any kind whatsoever. Then suddenly here she is in all her glory and working for the FBI. Imagine that." Angelique smiled slyly at her new teammates.
"So in other words, she's either on the run or part of witness protection," Rossi mused.
"Or both," Emily added. "But how did she come to work for FBI without raising anyone's suspicions? We all undergo fairly stringent background checks and yearly routine lie detector tests. Even if she somehow managed to cover up her background and was able to keep it a secret, how did she pass those tests every year? And why the FBI? If I was going into hiding, I can think of thousands of places I'd work before choosing FBI. That's quite the risk to take when you've got something to hide."
"Or no where better. To me, it'd be a lot like hiding in plain sight. If you're scared and on the run, being in a building surrounded by hundreds of Agents sounds like a pretty safe place to be, especially if it's the last place anyone would ever think of looking for you," Derek paused before quietly adding, "Besides when it comes to hiding your past, I'm living proof you can work here and still be able to accomplish that, depending on how deeply it's buried. As for the tests, if they don't ask you anything pertaining specifically to your past, you wouldn't have to lie, therefore nothing to detect."
"Yes, but Derek, we're not talking about an expunged record or events in your past you didn't share. We're talking about an entire past being wiped off the grid without leaving a trace. To accomplish that takes huge skills or an even bigger bankroll," Emily insisted.
Their words had Angelique glancing at Derek speculatively, her eyes alight with curiosity. She wondered what secrets his past held and her fingers itched to dance along the information super highway to quench her thirst for that knowledge. Viciously she clamped down her natural urges, instinctively knowing that if she went down that path and he found out... she shuddered and let it go before even finishing the thought. Instead, she put her curiosity to far better use and with renewed vigor, she began traipsing back into cyberspace, ferociously intent on finding something on the elusive Christina Marx. "Fear not mes amis, Ms. Marx can run, but when it comes to the superior hacking skills of Angelique Deville, the days of hiding her past are over."