𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄.
❝ Lay off it, you bespeckled tadpole! ❞
━━━ or in which charlotte harrow decides to trade her place in the forensic lab for profiling killers, and spencer reid is not happy about it.
spencer reid...
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❝ What good are wings without the courage to fly? ❞ atticus
FBI HQ, QUANTICO [ VA ] OCTOBER 2005
KNOCKING ON AN OFFICE DOOR never seemed such a terrifying feat until the silver plaque staring back at her held the words SAA Aaron Hotchner.
Charlotte tried to subtly peer through the thick blinds that shielded the inside of the office from view, but without any result. Her fist hesitated to come into contact with the wood of the door; with one more critical glance at the black suit pants and one of her favourite neutral jumpers, the young brunette pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and made a move.
It wasn't hard to find the office; after she wandered into the bullpens, careful not to bump into anyone again after the embarrassing ordeal by the elevator, she was approached by blonde woman, seemingly not much older than herself. The charming woman that revealed herself as the unit's communications liaison politely directed her up the stairs, sending a reassuring smile her way to calm her nerves.
It didn't help at all, but she appreciated her friendly gesture.
A muffled come in sounded from the other side, and Charlotte braved herself to open the door. Her legs were lead and cotton all at once.
"Agent Hotchner?"
She closed the door behind her, crossing the room to the heavy set desk where the man sat. A couch behind the door and the row of windows on the lower side of the office served as a proof of its size.
Aaron Hotchner straightened up in his seat, "Charlotte Harrow," he stood up, peeling himself away from the paperwork neatly scattered in piles on his desk.
"Take a seat."
Brown eyes cast a quick glance around the unfamiliar office, taking in the dark mahogany shelves lining the walls, filled with the Bureau standard issue manuals, all leather bound and perfectly ordered. She was sure she spotted some law books lost among them as well.
Only two picture frames laid on the side of the desk, a posed one with a lovely blonde in a wedding dress, and another of a much younger man in graduation robes. Good at compartmentalisation, Charlie concluded with surety. The space was strict and cool, just like his reserved expression that was currently trained on her.
