Like Real People Do

Prologue: I had a thought, dear

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt for what seemed like the millionth time that morning. To say you were nervous would be the biggest understatement. It wasn't until your heels clacked onto the tile of the cold lobby that it suddenly felt real. You had done it, despite the setbacks, the trauma and the inconveniences, minor and major, you were here. In the Federal bureau of Investigation's headquarters, where you had the interview for the job you've been thinking about since that night over a decade ago. To work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. To become a Profiler.

You nervously walked up to security, handing them your ID and explaining the nature of your visit. You tried not to sound like a 5 year old that just found out about ice cream but you couldn't help yourself. You've wanted this for so long. The guard just leveled you with a bored expression as he handed you a visitor's pass and pointed in the direction of the elevator. As he did, you noticed a man making a beeline for said elevators, clutching a messenger bag tightly. You started to follow him but you were practically jogging to keep up with his long legs vs. your short ones.

"Hold the door, please!" you call out. The man who'd been pretty engrossed with the floor in front of him suddenly looked up and shot an arm out to hold the door for you. You ducked in next to him.

"Thanks so much!" you smile.

"W-Which floor?" he says meeting your eyes. You suddenly realized your error of not asking the guard what floor the BAU was on.

"Um, do you know which floor the Behavioral Analysis Unit is on?" You questioned. "I have a meeting with SSA Hotchner."

He quickly nodded. "Yes, I'm also heading there." He smiles, before hitting the button indicating floor 9.

You held out your hand. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N." You smiled.

"I don't shake hands, actually." He says, nonchalantly. You lower your hand feeling slightly awkward.  "The amount of pathogens exchanged in a single handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." He must've seen the weird look that crossed your face because he instantly flushed. "Not that I'm saying we should--"

"I understand." You say, holding your hands in mock surrender. "How about just your name?"

"Reid." He says, nodding. The ding of the elevator almost cutting him off.  "Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Well, Dr. Spencer Reid. It was nice to meet you but I have a meeting to get to." you held your hand up in a small wave as you watched him awkwardly follow suit walking in the opposite direction towards a desk you assumed was his.

You took a deep breath before walking to the office door you knew was Hotch's. You saw the door was open so you softly rapped your fist on it to announce your presence. Aaron looked up with the stern look that often graces his face but upon seeing you, a small smile appeared in its place.

"Y/N/N, come in please." he said gesturing toward the chairs opposite him.

"Hotch, you said we'd do this the right way. That includes treating me just like any other interviewee." You pouted.

"And I told you, Y/N, that the job was yours if you want it." Hotch sighed.

"No if we do it like that it's borderline nepotism, Aaron and you know it." You stepped into the office more. Taking a seat in the plush chairs. "You're going to shake my hand, introduce yourself, then I'll introduce myself, I'll tell why I think you should hire me and then you will decide if you want to hire me." He leveled you with an unamused stare before sighing and holding out his hand.

"I'm Supervisory Special Agent, Aaron Hotchner. Your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N" You take his hand into yours eagerly.

"Why do you believe this is the job for you?" He said, deadpanned, still obviously not taking your insistent actual interview seriously. You glare at him.

"Well, I have a masters degree in Psychology  and Criminology from Stanford, where I graduated summa cum laude. I am currently in my doctoral program. I only took a break to complete training at the FBI academy where I was amongst the top 5 agents in my class-"

"Y/N/N, these are things I know about you. I know not only from your letters but because it's information our technical analyst finds before every interview we do. Why do you think I called and offered in the first place. I wouldn't have done so if I thought you couldn't be amazing at it. I just need to know why you want this."

You sigh. "To help." you shrug "To be of service. To find bad guys and put them in bad places, but most of all to do what you did for me all those years ago." Hotch's soft smile graced his lips for a brief second.  

"You saved my life, Hotch. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. But I'm eternally grateful and I think this is the only way, to repay God I guess for sparing me that night. To save others the same way." 

Silence hangs heavy over us as we wait for the thick fog of that memory to go away. "Are you sure?"Hotch says. "You don't have to do this out of repayment, living life to the fullest is enough repayment."

"Hotch, I've wanted this for as long as I can remember."

"Then, you're hired." He extends his hand again. Which you eagerly grab back smiling widely. "Are formalities over now?" He asks.

"Yes."You laugh before he sweeps you in a tight hug, you hug back instantly.

He holds you back in his arms. "Look at you, last I saw you was at your High School graduation and now, you're almost a doctor!"

"I've still got another year so no doctor talks yet."

"Still." Aaron smiled, "You should be proud, you know your father would be."

The smile on your face fades a bit. "I know." You clear your throat awkwardly. "Does the rest of the team-- do they know?"

"Garcia, our tech analyst, does because she had to look into your past." Hotch says. "The rest do not, I've already sworn her to secrecy so it is your story to tell whenever and if ever you are ready to."

You swallow heavily. "Thank you."

He pats your back. "Come on, let's introduce you to the team."