"True strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life, through devotion, to something beyond himself."
~Henry Miller
For some reason, the nerves hadn't hit her until she'd stepped into the small elevator and pressed the button for the 5th floor. Samantha shuffled back and leaned against the furthest, mirrored wall as the metal doors softly closed before her. As the shaft rose higher through the building, she felt that familiar pull in the pit of her stomach. A mix of gravity and uncertainty. One of her free hands gripped the strap of her bag just a little tighter.
Quantico, Virginia. The name hadn't felt all that reverent until now. Many of her fellow students in college had applied here straight out of earning their degree-everyone wanted to work here. She'd spoken to enough students to know that they all had a dream to stand alongside the best of the best in the country.
Her fingers massaged her temple in an effort to settle her stomach and rising apprehension. Best of the best was an understatement. All her training and studying for this. Right here. Best not screw it up...new blood in an old battlefield.
You're here for a reason. You'll do fine. You made it this far.
The brunette looked up as the elevator settled in place, and the indicator announced that she'd arrived on her designated floor. Sam brushed down the front of her blouse and pants, as if expecting that wrinkles had magically appeared between here and when she'd pulled it out of the dryer that morning.
The doors opened and she stepped across the threshold before she could psyche herself out of moving. Repeating the mantra that she had made it here for a reason seemed to help, because by the time she opened the glass doors of the behavioral unit, her nerves had reduced to a simmering afterthought. Everyone had a first day of work, right? Hers was no different.
The room was abuzz with that inaudible hum of productivity and pushing paperwork. Your typical office environment. Cluttered cubicles, file folders, the smell of stale coffee always lingering, and that feeling that she was an outsider to those who had been here before. Hopefully things went well and the territorial assumption would quickly go away.
Several people were stuck at their desks with eyes glued to various folders and case files, though her entrance had caused a few to look up when she stepped through the glass doors. Sam's eyes, however, were locked on the office situated above and behind the other desks. Its two windows confirmed that it was indeed occupied by a man looking over case folders of his own.
Ignoring the curious staring from who would undoubtedly turn out to be her coworkers in the next half hour, Sam stepped around the bull pen of desks and ascended the three or four stairs to the raised walkway leading to the boss' office. The door was open, but she didn't feel welcome enough to simply let herself in. With a few timid knocks on the wood surface, she heard his quiet invitation to enter.
It was a nice enough room, and certainly less flashy than she'd expected. Surrounding his dark-wooded desk was a bookcase full of thick leather-bound books, neatly organized by volumes in the same series of publishing. A few small awards sat in the middle above where the man himself sat, but from their size it was clear that displaying them wasn't an attempt to flaunt. All business, functional, and very few personal affects. Her quick look at the room ended once he'd looked up in her direction.
"You must be Samantha Auer." The dark-haired man said once she'd presented herself, standing from his seat and offering a firm handshake. His other gestured to one of the chairs opposite his desk. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent and Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Please, have a seat."
"Thank you." She replied, setting her bag by her feet and straightening to face her new boss.
First impressions? It was hard not to be intimidated. The man had barely flashed a smile upon their greeting, and his expression had returned to the stoic mask it no doubt had been before she'd arrived. His eyes were clear, hard, and studying her as if doing so was second nature. Well, he was a profiler. She supposed it truly was.
"I've had a look through your academic profile." He began in that deep tone of his, grabbing the relevant file from his desk and opening it to refresh his memory. Straight into business. "Graduated from University of Michigan with high marks. Master's degree in psychology, minor in criminology. Your professors also spoke highly of you."
Sam nodded, feeling the need to interject something, but decided against it. She didn't want to interrupt.
"Tell me about yourself." He requested.
"Umm...my family is from Illinois, but I went to Michigan for school and to set out on my own. I was looking for as much independence as I could get at the time." The brunette stated with a shrug, unsure of what else to say. "I'm young, but determined. Ready to start my career in a new place. I'm what you'd call fresh meat."
He glanced up at her expectantly, an eyebrow quirked slightly upwards. "This would be your first experience in the field?"
"Yes."
"What lead you here? Why the BAU? And why be a profiler?"
"I've always had an interest in people. Behavior, social patterns, nature vs. nurture, the whole nine yards." She gestured with her hand. "If not here, then I probably would have ended up somewhere similar. This gives me the opportunity to work in an area that I'm fascinated by, help people at the same time, and...discovering new things is always a nice plus."
"New things, such as?"
Her mouth quirked. "I don't know. I suppose I'll know when I discover them."
He nodded, as if mulling that point over, but he didn't say anything else about it. Samantha could feel the slight burn of being stared at through the window of Hotchner's office, but pointedly ignored it. Nosy coworkers, no doubt.
"You passed your preliminary simulation tests. No notes of concern from the instructors." He added, finally closing her file and giving her his full attention again, fingers linked and resting on his desk. "On paper, I'd say you're more than ready for the job."
Samantha withheld the 'thank you' that threatened to burst from her lips, catching something in his tone that indicated he had more to say. She was right.
"However, as prepared as you may think you are, I promise that not everything we do can be taught on a test or practiced in a simulation. We find ourselves frequently thrown into unpredictable and dangerous situations while away on cases. Things can get tense, or even deadly. It's one thing to shoot at paper targets. Another to face down a living being.
"This job is more than pushing papers and compiling a profile. You'll be required to think on your feet in stressful environments, make difficult decisions under pressure. Is that something you believe you can handle?"
An immediate answer would seem immature, as if she was chomping at the bit to throw herself in with the wolves and figure it all out as she went. But that wasn't Sam's way. Even so, she'd thought about what this job would mean well before applying for it. She blinked, taking in all he'd said, before giving a single nod. "I know I can handle it. And I'll work to show you that."
"Good." He said simply, expression never changing, but eyes taking in her own posture with an appraising glint. "It's customary that new agents start on a one-month probationary period, to determine that you are capable of handling the workload. You'll be supervised and evaluated throughout the cases you take on during that time. After which you'll receive a performance review by myself and my superior. Should everything go well, you'll be approved as an official agent."
"I understand." Of course. This was a big job. They wanted to be sure you could handle it. They didn't let just anyone have a badge and gun.
"Do you have a go-bag?"
"Yes, in my car."
Hotchner nodded and stood from his seat, prompting her to follow suit after only a moment. "Glad to hear it. You may be needing it sooner than you anticipated."
His gaze settled on something behind her, and she turned to spot a petite, blonde woman in a violet blouse and gray slacks standing in his doorway, a stack of manilla folders in her hand. The brunette hadn't even heard her approach. There was this air of confidence about her that Sam herself hoped to convey.
"The others are ready." The woman said.
"Perfect." Hotchner held out a hand to indicate the newcomer. "JJ, this is Agent Samantha Auer. She'll be joining the team under probation. Samantha, meet Jennifer Jareau, our Media Liason."
"Nice to meet you." The brunette greeted, shaking the offered hand from Jennifer, who smiled kindly in return. She decided that she liked this woman, if only her first impression to go off of. Confident and nice. A future friend, perhaps?
"Welcome to the team." They let go and she gave a rueful shrug. "I'd spend more time on introductions, but we have an urgent case that just came in."
"It's no problem."
"We meet in the conference room to discuss our game plan. Follow me, I'll show you there." She gestured for her to come along, stepping out of the doorway.
"I'll be along shortly." Hotchner said, and the two women vacated his office space.
Most of the desks that had been occupied when she'd walked in were now empty. No one around staring at her. It was natural to wonder about a new coworker, humans were curious creatures, but given the environment Sam couldn't help but wonder if her every move and expression had been studied and analyzed during the brief meeting with her boss through the window. The lack of a burn on the back of her neck was a welcome feeling.
Hard not to wonder what sort of assumptions they'd already made about her.
It was a short walk to the hexagonal office JJ was directing her to. Neither said anything on the way, and Sam could see that the blonde's expression was tight, worry creasing her brow. An urgent case, indeed.
The small conference room was furnished with a mounted screen on the back wall, a large round table and a handful of chairs, most already occupied by her new coworkers. JJ entered first, catching the room's attention when she spoke up.
"Hotch will join us in just a moment, but let's get started." She said, finding the nearest empty seat and lowering herself into it, then beginning to pass out the files she'd been carrying all this time. Samantha went to sit as well, but didn't get the chance.
"Hold on a sec. I think we can spare a minute for the new girl." The dark-skinned man said, grin in place as he gestured to the new agent. "Care to introduce yourself?"
He sounded amused, self-assured, but still friendly. She had no doubt that he could hold the attention of a room if he so chose.
Ignoring the sudden nerves, she cleared her throat quickly. "I'm Samantha Auer. I'll be working with you all for the next while under probation, in hopes of being allowed to stay on board indefinitely."
"Well, seems like you've already met JJ. I'm Derek Morgan." He said, offering a handshake which she took, then went around the room to the others sitting at the table. "These are agents Emily Prentiss..."
The beautiful, dark-haired woman gave a small smile and nod. Quiet. Aloof. But still, there was kindness behind her expression.
"...David Rossi..."
The older gentleman with the salt-and-pepper hair and very Italian-styled goatee quirked a slanted smile, coupled with that fatherly glint of approval in his eyes.
"...Penelope Garcia..."
A colorful and smiley woman standing close to the monitor on the wall twiddled her fingers and mouther a 'hi.'
"...and Dr. Spencer Reid."
The tall, lanky man raised a hand as hello, flashing a somewhat awkward and brief smile. As if he didn't know how else to respond to his own introduction. Sam was lead to believe Morgan was teasing him, what with the emphasis on his title.
"Nice to meet you all. I'm sure we'll have more time later to get personal. But it sounds like there are more pressing matters going on." She said, finally taking an open seat next to Rossi and getting comfortable.
"You're sadly very right, my love." Garcia said with an exaggerated sigh, holding up a remote and pointing it towards the screen on the wall. With a click, the screen changed to show several pictures of the victims they were being called in for. Regular-looking people, their lives cut short. "In the past week, 3 people were found dead in Aurora, Colorado. Rebecca Jenkins, Carly Wright, and Zander Van Dyke. Two were college students, one was a wedding planner and single mom."
Samantha winced at that last tidbit, opening her file to see the information they had available on each victim. The two female victims looked remarkably the same though different ages. Blonde, brown-eyed, pretty. However, other than their method of death, nothing seemingly linked the females to Zander. The gruesome pictures of their crime scenes were next to appear on the screen, but luckily she had been through enough case studies in college to be partially desensitized to the brutality.
"They were all stabbed multiple times. Like...a lot of times." The curvaceous blonde continued with a sad shake of her head and a grimace. "Over 30 in all three cases."
"That's a lot of rage." Prentiss muttered, eyes glued to one of the crime scene photos. "It takes a good deal of persistence to stab someone that many times."
"Each victim had slashes on their face..." Reid muttered, squinting at the screen in concentration. "Some sort of 'x.'"
Sure enough, long red slashes were present on each one. They started almost to the corners of the hairline all the way down to the jaw. The wounds were shallow, but still damaging enough to disfigure the face.
"What could the significance be?" JJ questioned, staring at the close-up images of the victims' faces.
"Hard to tell at first glance." Rossi said with a shrug. "Maybe some sort of calling card? A signature?"
"The coroner's report shows that the marks were done post-mortem." JJ pointed out. "Perhaps this is the unsub's attempt at preventing identification."
"Kind of reminds me of high school..." Samantha muttered suddenly, then glanced up when the others went quiet. They were all looking at her expectantly. "You know...X-ing out the yearbook pictures of classmates you hated?"
"Honestly, that might not be too much of a stretch." Prentiss agreed. "If the unsub's fixating on a past bully, this could be how he's connecting it to his trauma."
The pictures of the crime scene weren't anything fun to look at. Each scene was set in a different alley way of the city, the body draped beside a dumpster. Their placement was uncaring, sloppy. "It's clear they see the victims as little more than trash. Left next to dumpsters, no care in how the body is placed." Reid gestured to the photos up on the screen.
"Any signs of sexual assualt?" Morgan spoke up, his previous amusement gone in the face of the work at hand. All business now.
"No, the coroner couldn't find any evidence of that. Thankfully." Was Garcia's relieved answer.
"Strange that the unsub doesn't stick to one victim type." Rossi interjected methodically, glancing up at the screen. "Male and female, upper middle class and poor college students. There's no apparent pattern to who they target."
Samantha shrugged. "Victims of opportunity, maybe?"
"It's a possibility."
"Have the authorities found anything that links these three together?" Morgan asked, glancing back at the door as Hotchner entered the room. He took a seat across the table from Samantha, in between Reid and Morgan, opening his own file to take a look.
"No, but the strange thing is, these three murders are uncannily similar to seven others that took place in the 8 months previous." The bubbly blonde shrugged, clicking her button again and the images went away to reveal another handful of pictures. All seven victims fit the blonde-hair-brown-eyed victimology profile that seemed to be prevalent. "These seven women were also found by dumpsters throughout the city, stabbed multiple times, faces slashed. The whole shebang."
"10 bodies, and we're only now hearing about it?" Prentiss asked, incredulity coloring her tone. "Why wait so long if there's a clear pattern?"
"The local police felt they were getting close to a breakthrough, and so didn't think they needed the help." JJ offered with a small sigh. "Now, with so many new murders in so little time, they feel like they're in over their heads."
"So...9 females, all with similar physical appearances. Leads me to believe that these women are surrogates for the unsub's intended victim." Prentiss continued, chewing on the nail of her thumb in confusion. "And then there's Zander. He throws the previous victimology completely out the window. The unsub's never gone after males before. Why him? And why now?"
"We can only speculate until we know more about each victim. Perhaps we'll know more when we get there." Hotch offered, and the others nodded.
"If the unsub went from several weeks between kills to a few days, we're looking at a severe escalation with no known cause." He continued, looking around the room. "There's no indication that they plan on slowing down, in fact, everything points to the possibility that this is the beginning of a killing spree. With that in mind, wheels up in 30. We need to tackle this as quickly as possible before there are any more victims."
Tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap.
Henry's fingers drummed an asymmetrical beat against the car's steering wheel, eyes flicking over at the woman in his passenger seat. She was the picture of calm, hands folded in her lap as she gazed out the windshield to the sidewalk opposite the parking lot. The beauty didn't bother looking at him when she spoke.
"Pay attention."
"Right." He muttered in apology, forcing his eyes away and back to their surroundings. The occasional passerby crossed the view of their car. She hadn't spoken up yet, though, which meant there wasn't anyone she'd found that she wanted.
His attempt at focus didn't last long, eyes eventually finding themselves back on the black-haired woman beside him. They'd been sitting there 20 minutes, and nothing happened that was as interesting as her.
Sometimes he couldn't be sure she was real, the way she looked so perfect all the time, face serene and her eyes alight with cunning and something even deeper. An angel, sent just for him. Gracious enough to pay him of all people the time of day. The look of her fiery and determined spirit, the way she looked at him when they-
"You're staring at me again."
"S-sorry..." This time, however, he didn't look away. Licking his lips, they quirked upwards in a slight smile. "You're just...so beautiful."
Finally, she turned to him and he was rewarded with a small smile from her angelic lips. Those blue eyes glanced down at his lips, and he wished that she'd feel generous enough to kiss them with her own. But, she only gave a little chuckle and turned back to the windshield. The moment was gone. Henry wondered what he could do to bring it back.
Just as he was thinking of something to say, her posture straightened and she pointed to someone walking across the other end of the street. "That one."
Henry peered with squinted eyes at who she was referring to, spotting a blonde woman jogging along with headphones in her ears. Maybe she'd be called pretty by most standards, but in comparison to the beauty beside him, she wasn't in the same league. He glanced to his passenger, who was staring at her with a pleased smile.
"Are you sure? We did one yesterday."
"You got the wrong one." She retorted with ice in her voice, leveling him an accusing stare. It took everything in him not to curl into himself and die. "You said you'd do anything for me, right?"
"You know I would, Daphne." The answer was immediate, more desperate than he'd intended. However, it was nothing but the truth. How could she doubt his obvious devotion? "Whatever you want. I'll do it."
"Good. Then, I want you to get..." She pointed back out the windshield. "...her."
Henry swallowed, looking back at Daphne's choice with a growing determination. Whatever she wanted. He reached for the keys left in the ignition and started up the engine, throwing it into drive and rolling out of the parking spot they'd been sitting in for half an hour now. He could hear a pleased sigh escape Daphne's lips, and it only fueled him to get this done faster.
Samantha hadn't realized how comforting the muted rumble of a jet's engine could sound. The team had gone over the reports again for the first half hour of their flight, discussing any new ideas they had based on the information available. After that, they were free to occupy themselves how they saw fit until the jet landed.
The brunette had pulled out her novel that she hadn't been able to finish the night before, hoping the others wouldn't judge her questionable taste in literature. No matter how cheesy she knew they were, she was a sucker for trashy romance novels. But even after an hour of reading more into the dramatic lives of Jocelyn Gray and Damian Black, she'd grown bored and put it away to do something else.
She'd taken a spot at the far back of the plane and spent more time reading over the case files again. Nothing new jumped out at her from the page, no new miraculous detail that stood out. The droning of the plane gave her the perfect background noise to block anything and everything else out and just focus on the details of the case, but it didn't give her the laser focus required to solve it all just by staring at the pictures.
She supposed now would have been a good time to talk amongst the team and get to know them more, but she still wasn't sure where she fit into their social dynamic, or just what that dynamic even was. Samantha sure as hell wasn't outgoing enough to address it upfront and decided to let time do it's job for her. Brute forcing her way into circles of friendship was likely to have the opposite effect she was hoping for. Best to allow them to extend the offer first.
The ringing of a cellphone interrupted the relative quiet of the cabin, and Hotch pulled out his cell to answer. "Go ahead, Garcia."
The others' heads perked up, no doubt waiting to hear what sort of information the techy blonde was about to impart to them.
"I reached out to the precinct to let them know you were arriving soon, and let me tell you, I've never heard someone so frazzled." She started, discomfort audible in her voice. "If it were possible to make the plane fly any faster, I'm pretty sure they'd be begging you to step on the gas."
"Another body?" Hotchner guessed.
"Found in the last half hour. 25 year old Hailee Gordon was reported missing by her boyfriend when she didn't return home from a run early this morning. She was found by some dumpsters on the other side of town."
"How long between the missing person's report and the discovery of the body?" Rossi asked, which earned him a sad sigh from the analyst.
"6 hours at most."
"The unsub doesn't keep his victims for long before killing and disposing of them." Reid confirmed. "Quick and efficient."
"Any change in MO?" Was JJ's question.
"CSI is still on-scene, but nothing new so far."
Hotchner nodded, considering this new information. He turned to glance around at the others, eyes finally settling and flicking between Samantha and the older profiler.
"Auer, Rossi, you two check out the crime scene as soon as we touch down. Make sure you exchange contact information with the team before you go." He said, pointedly looking at the new member. She nodded dutifully.
"JJ, I want you to coordinate with the media, make sure they're not getting any ideas of giving this unsub more attention than he already has. Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss, I want you looking over the seven previous victims for anything that we might have missed."
Samantha was pleased to be sent out on the field immediately. She could show her stuff, prove to them that she could be an asset, helpful. And that she somehow knew what she was doing. Rossi caught her eye and gave a slight smile, which she returned shyly. His cool and unconcerned demeanor in being paired with the new girl was encouraging. Perhaps he had confidence in her ability, or maybe he just knew that whatever she screwed up, he could make up for in experience and pick up the slack.
Don't mess this up.
ns 15.158.61.40da2
