Chapter Text
All Gideon said was, “Pack your bags.” He didn’t even give her a moment to catch her breath before he yanked her off her seat, telling her it was time. She tried tidying up her desk, but again he told her there was no time. So she left everything as it was; papers and pens scattered about the table, coffee now cold in her favorite mug, books wide open.
Excited and nervous, Sam rushed to Gideon’s office where she kept a go-bag ready in case he ever told her they had to leave. Gideon had promised her that whenever he went back to work, her internship would start. She hadn’t expected it to be so abrupt.
“Ready, Sam?” Gideon asked.
“I think so,” she replied. She caught a glance at her reflection on one of Gideon’s hanged pictures. She ran her hands through the ends of her hair, trying to tame her unruly bangs. She pushed her glasses back, hoping they would make her look more intelligent in front of the BAU team.
“You’re gonna do great,” Gideon said.
Sam’s eyes snapped back toward him.
He smiled. “Otherwise all that work you’ve done was for nothing.”
Against her nerves, Sam let out a laugh. She ran her hand down the side of her face and straightened her skirt.
“What’s the case?” She asked.
“Let’s walk and talk.” Gideon checked his watch. “We’re gonna be late.”
Sam nodded and followed him out of his office.
“It’s a local case,” Gideon said as he put on his jacket. “Just outside Alexandria.”
“So no jet?” Sam’s shoulders dropped slightly.
“No, no jet.” Gideon laughed. “Maybe next time.”
The very idea of a ‘next time’ rattled her nerves.
Sam opened the main door for both of them, leading them outside Georgetown’s psychology department. A black SUV waited for them outside, the bright sunlight reflecting off its tinted windows. Sam gripped onto the handle of her go-bag, hesitating for a moment before opening the passenger door.
“A local man was found dead in his house,” Gideon went on as he slid into the driver's seat next to Sam.
“Why is that a BAU case?” Sam asked. She buckled her seatbelt.
“The victim was recently released from prison,” Gideon replied. “Three years for aggravated assault after a bar fight. There could be a possible connection with two other recently released inmates found dead in the last two weeks.”
Sam nodded. “Sounds compelling.”
“Your job is just to observe how the team works,” Gideon said. “See if it’s actually a good match for your dissertation.”
I would sure hope it is, she thought to herself. Can’t have months of research be for nothing.
“Take it easy,” Gideon continued. “No one’s first case is perfect.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I almost forgot.” Gideon dug into his bag. He pulled out a lanyard with an ID at the end. “Got this for you.”
Sam accepted the ID. Her picture smiled up at her, along with the words BAU Intern. She ran her finger along the words.
“Thanks.” She slipped the lanyard around her neck. “How does it look?”
“Official.” He started the engine. “Next thing you know, you’ll have a special agent ID.”
“Fingers crossed.” Sam glanced at the ID one more time. She held it against her chest.
Gideon drove the car out of the parking lot and into the street. The pavement was wet under the tires, small puddles still draining away from last night’s rain.
“I got you these files on the team members,” Gideon said. “They’re in the folder in the back seat.”
She reached back for the manila folder, inside which were a series of papers.
“Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief,” Gideon said. “Former prosecutor. He may seem tough, but he’s not all that bad once you get to know him.”
“How long has he been in the BAU?” Sam asked.
“Since the 90’s,” Gideon responded as he took a turn. “He’s worked his way up from the bottom. Could be you one day, kid.”
Her stomach churned at the thought. She turned the page.
“Jennifer Jareau is our Media Liaison. She’s in charge of communicating with the media. She selects our cases and works closely with the local police.”
“Tough job,” Sam said.
“She’s the best at it.” Gideon smiled. “She’s near your age, maybe a little older. A potential friend, no?.”
“That would be nice,” Sam replied. She turned the page.
“These are Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss,” Gideon said. “Emily was formerly an Interpol Agent.”
“Like a secret spy or something?” Sam laughed.
“Or something.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not entirely.” Without waiting for Sam’s reply, Gideon continued, “Morgan is a former cop from Chicago. He specializes in obsessional crimes and explosives.”
Sam cast him a look at the mention of explosives, but he did not say any further comments. So, she turned the page.
“Dr. Spencer Reid you know,” Gideon said.
“Well, it’s not like you made me read his thesis twice,” Sam replied.
“I only asked you to read it once.”
Sam smiled sheepishly. “Let’s just say it took me a second reading to absorb it all.”
“I’m sure Spencer will be happy to hear that you liked it.”
“Oh God, don’t tell him I read it twice.” Sam felt her cheeks flush.
“Why not? I’m sure he’d be flattered.”
“I don’t think flattered is the word.” Sam pushed her glasses back. “What would he think of me knowing I read it twice. As if I didn’t get it the first time. I did get it, for the record. The second reading was simply to internalize it.”
“If you say so.”
Sam turned the page. With the quick motion, the paper sliced through her finger. She let out a small groan.
“Paper cut?” Gideon asked.
She nodded.
“I got band aids in the center console compartment.”
Sam placed the files on her lap. With her left hand, she opened up the compartment and dug around for some band aids. She pulled one out and peeled it open. The band aid was decorated with the image of a robin.
“Seriously?” Sam laughed. “You’re the only person I know who would have bird band aids.”
Gideon gave her a sideways smile. “Are you just gonna make fun of me, or are you gonna thank me?”
“Thanks, Gideon.” She wrapped the band aid around her finger.
“Now, may I proceed, or are you going to injure yourself further?”
“Go on,” Sam said.
“Right so, where was I?” Gideon snuck a look at the files. “Right. Penelope Garcia is our tech analyst. She rarely goes in the field with us, but is always available to call for any information – and I mean any. She has extraordinary skills with everything technological. Concerningly so.”
Sam nodded, smiling.
“Lastly, there is David Rossi, whom you know of as well.”
“You think he’d sign my books?” Sam asked.
“His ego is big enough as it is, best you don’t encourage him.”
Sam laughed. “I guess I’ll wait until I’m more accommodated to ask for an autograph.”
“Perhaps,” Gideon replied.
Sam closed the folder. She rested her head against the back of her seat.
“Why don’t you relax a little?”
“Am I tense?” She sat straighter.
“That’s not what I meant.” Gideon stopped at a red light. “You won’t have a second to breathe once the case starts. These might be your last moments of peace for a while, Sam.”
“That’s encouraging.” Somehow, every muscle in her body seemed to tense up even more.
“Just sit back,” Gideon said. “You’ll have plenty to do soon.”
***
The car ride was longer than Sam had expected. Or perhaps it felt longer as every second that passed she couldn’t wait to arrive. Soon, Quantico came into view, glimmering under the sun. Sam pressed her face against the car’s window. She had been inside only once before, when Gideon originally introduced her to the idea of an internship. Back then it felt like a pipedream. Even now, as the car drove closer and closer, it still felt surreal. Sam’s heart spun around in cartwheels.
Gideon stopped at the gate outside Quantico, presenting his ID to enter. Sam dug through her purse for a compact mirror. She checked for any food on her teeth. There was a bit of lipstick on one of her front teeth. She wiped it with her finger. With the mirror out, she cleaned the edges of her lipstick and made sure there was no mascara on her eyelids.
“Sam?”
She shut the mirror. “Yeah?”
“We’re here.”
Gideon parked the car.
“We’re… here.” She gripped onto her intern ID. A cool breeze greeted Sam as she stepped out of the car. She held onto her go-bag tightly.
Gideon guided her through the main doors and layers upon layers of security. Finally, they reached an elevator. Gideon pressed the second floor button and up they went.
Sam pulled at her shirt’s collar. It seemed to cling to her neck tighter than usual.
The elevator doors opened. Gideon gestured for her to step out first, which she did. Nearly tripping with excitement, Sam pushed back the glassdoors and entered the bullpen.
“Welcome to the BAU,” Gideon said.