[✓] 𝐶𝐼𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 | 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃

𝟏 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 | 𝟏/𝟐

— 𝒞 —

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 beating a little faster than usual as she walked into the Behavioral Analysis Unit office, and her attempt to swallow her nerves down was unsuccessful.

She kept her grip on her box tight as she headed towards the back of the room; the last thing she needed was to drop all her stuff in front of her new co-workers and completely embarrass herself.

She was afraid that her friendly smile looked more like a grimace, though she tried to keep that thought away as she climbed the few steps and found the door with a plaque that read: 'AARON HOTCHNER.'

She adjusted the box so that one hand would be enough to support it, and, with a deep breath, knocked on the door with the other.

"Come in."

A little apprehensive, Charlie opened the door and peeked her head in.

Agent Hotchner was sitting at his desk, a pen in hand as he filled out paperwork. He looked exactly as he had in every newspaper article and TV broadcast she had seen of him; his dark hair was neatly groomed, his thick eyebrows were deeply furrowed, and he was wearing a trim suit.

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, and he raised his eyebrows for a moment before nodding in realization.

She stepped inside. "Agent Hotchner?" 

"Just Hotch is fine," he reassured her as he stood up. "Agent Charlotte Jang, correct?"

She pressed her lips together tightly at the use of her full first name, and she immediately said, "You can call me Charlie."

"Charlie." Hotch nodded. "All right." 

Charlie placed her box onto the edge of his desk, and she then shook the hand he extended.

"Well," Hotch sighed once both of their arms dropped back to their sides, "you'll take the desk of the agent you're replacing—I'll show it to you once we step outside. Before that, let me make sure all the information I have is right."

Charlie nodded, and as Hotch picked up a folder and flipped it open, she could feel some of her anxiety melt away.

"Got a bachelor's in Biomedical Engineering at Columbia University, top marks in the FBI Academy, broke a couple—pardon me, six records there as well, and then spent five years in Violent Crime—with the highest amount of cases solved in the last two years in New York." Hotch looked up, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. "All very impressive feats."

She smiled and sheepishly muttered a "Thanks."

"Now," he began as he closed the folder and placed it back on the desk, "I'm under the impression you've already gone over the legalities with Strauss?"

Charlie nodded, then opening the lid of her box and handing him the folder with the paperwork. The Section Chief wasn't so fun to deal with, though Charlie was sure she'd made a good enough impression.

"All right." Hotch nodded, taking the folder and quickly flipping through it. "Welcome to the BAU, Charlie. Now, let's—"

A knock on the door interrupted him.

He gave Charlie an apologetic smile as he put the folder onto his desk before calling, "Come in."

The door opened, revealing a woman who had a box in her hands, similar to Charlie's.

"Hi," she chuckled, her reddened lips widened into a smile as she stepped in. "Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch raised his eyebrows. "Yes."