The Element of Surprise

Intro

Estella POV

The entire bullpen is murmuring about the unexpected retirement of Special Agent Jason Gideon, some even trying to speculate why he left. The rumors differ from agent to agent; Agent Gideon contracted a critical illness, he started showing signs of Alzheimer's, he got too involved in a case and slipped up, he put a civilian's life at risk, he had a criminal record, and so forth.

Not blinking an eye or moving a muscle, I sit at my desk and pretend to be lost in paperwork all while listening to those rumors passing by. Gossip has never been something I could enjoy. Sure, hearing about celebs, who's dating who, who's getting divorced, who's pregnant, that I can listen to because it doesn't affect my work performance. But they're gossiping about someone we all worked with only a week ago, someone everyone respects and trusts.

I'm still a bit shell shocked myself, to be honest. Only last weekend, Agent Gideon and I bumped into each other in the break room. He was struggling with the new coffee machine and would've thrown it out a window if I didn't offer my assistance.

"Thank you," he said kindly although I could see the warmth absent in his gaze, "Technology, always a step ahead of me it seems."

"It's no problem, sir. I have to agree, though, I liked the previous machine better. This one doesn't make macchiatos," I attempted small talk while trying not to read him too much. There was a general understanding in the BAU that profilers shouldn't profile their colleagues. It's more out of respect of privacy more than anything. Some still did it, but only because it's hard to turn it off. It happened to me regularly, reading a person without even realizing I'm doing it. It becomes an occupational habit if one's working with a bunch of profilers.

"I remember seeing that option on there," Agent Gideon continued, referring to what I said about the macchiatos, "Never tried that before, I tend to stick to plain coffee."

After the machine poured his beverage, he moved aside so I could slide my mug underneath the distributor mouth. Pressing the cappuccino button, the machine whirled and 'girrrrs' before slowly filling my mug with frothy milk and coffee. A short silence hung between me and my boss in which I kept stealing glances at him. Damn, he looked bad. Not homeless bad or drunk bad, just bad - as if he hasn't been sleeping well, like the world somehow came to rest on his shoulders. He looked emotionally bad and I'm once again reminded what it means to work for the BAU. Being an ordinary field agent meant I didn't get to do what Gideon's team does, I don't see what they see. But it's as though I'm seeing everything in the older man's expression that moment; the blood, the bodies, the trauma. One must be made of steel not to be affected by any of that.

I didn't realize I was staring until Agent Gideon glanced my way, catching me in the act. Tearing my eyes off him, I grab my mug and aim for the door.

"Estella."

My feet came to an abrupt halt when he called my name and I braced myself for a confrontation. Yet, it didn't come.

"How long have you been working for the BAU?"

His question caught me completely off guard and for a second, I had to string together words to form an answer, "Almost a year now, sir."

"And what did you do before that?"

"Psychodynamic and cognitive-behavioral therapy."

Nodding his head, Agent Gideon stared at a spot on the floor behind me, clearly deep in thought. I wondered if that was all he wanted to ask, whether he was waiting for me to return to my desk and leave him to his thoughts. But then he asked me a question that kept my feet rooted in place, "Have you ever thought about join the team?"