Title: Profiling Perks
Word Count: 1500
Summary: The reader is in college studying to become a profiler. She shadows the team on a case.
Rating: K
Requested by: @FictionalSkies
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Being the niece of a profiler had its perks.
Now, that wasn't to say you had it easy in life. No, it was quite the opposite. You had always been a hard worker, and that didn't change when you got into college. You had been studying forensic psychology religiously since the age of fifteen, and you certainly weren't going to stop then. You were only a few years away from getting into the FBI, and because you were nearly top of your class, you had been chosen for a once-in-a-lifetime chance; you were allowed to shadow the BAU on a case. The much-coveted opening was yours according to the letter in your back pocket, and your hand clenched on the handle of your go-bag a little tighter at the thought. Hell yeah, you were excited.
Everything you had achieved was yours and yours alone.
Still, being the niece of a profiler had its perks.
"Uncle Dave!" You called out as you exited the elevator, seeing the man standing by the doors to the bullpen.
He smiled. "It's Agent Rossi to you today, Miss Y/L/N."
"Sorry, sir," you said, smirking at him.
"Ah ah, no mouthing off to your superiors. Remember, we give the reports." He chastised.
"Well, you don't. Something about a possible bias?" You teased.
"Me? Biased? Never." He joked, giving you a quick hug and then leading you through the glass doors. "Besides, I don't need bias, bella. You'll do great all on your own."
"I do try," you said modestly.
"I know you do. Now, I'm going to talk to the team. They're in the briefing room." He told you.
"I'll wait outside," you replied, smiling as you watched him go in to greet his colleagues.
He didn't close the door all the way, so you could hear every word spoken. Whether that was his intention or not, you didn't know, but it sure as hell made things interesting. You peeked in, seeing your face appear on one of the screens, hearing your uncle tell the team about you.
"Wait, she's your niece?" A dark-skinned man you recognized to be Morgan asked, sounding a bit incredulous.
"Yes, but I didn't choose for her to get the opening. She got the position all on her own." Rossi replied smoothly, knowing what their concerns would be already.
"Wait, what are the chances of that?" Prentiss, a beautiful, dark-haired woman, asked. You were very glad your uncle helped you learn names before your first day.
"About 67%, going off her grade-point-average and overall IQ. She's a certifiable genius." Another man, Spencer Reid, said. You remembered what Uncle Dave had said about him; he himself was a genius. The fact that he thought you were smart was very flattering, you thought.
"But how old is she? She barely looks eighteen," Morgan argued.
"Actually," you say, pulling the door open and entering the room, "I'm twenty-seven."
YOU ARE READING
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