Philophobia

Eleven; I Didn't Mean It

May 21st, 2010
7:13 am
The Lobby of the Federal Bureau of Investigation
Quantico, Virginia

Spencer Reid shuffled into the lobby of the Bureau, a scowl on his face. He hadn't been doing well lately. JJ had left a mere two weeks ago, and her replacement had yet to show up. Garcia has tried filling the position, only to find that she wasn't as great at dealing with the press as she was hacking them. He missed his friend, and she hadn't answered calls, texts, or emails in five days.

Furthermore, it had been raining awfully for the past week. This meant Reid couldn't take the subway to work as he normally did. The half-mile walk from the station to his building was open and had no coverage to protect him from the downpours. Even with a rain jacket on, he'd be soaked by the time he arrived at the office. This meant he was driving to work and miss exactly thirty-two minutes of reading time a day (a hundred and twenty-eight minutes so far).

Today, the lobby was almost empty. It was too early for the less dedicated to arrive, but Reid was almost positive Hotch hadn't left. His car was still parked in the lot. Reid scanned his badge, the door allowing him entrance to the building. He nodded towards Benny, the security guard on duty at the time. As he dragged his feet along the carpet, attempting to dry his shoes, he noticed a small commotion over at the front desk.

"No, you don't understand. Today's my first day as an official agent of the Bureau. I'm supposed to be meeting with Agent Aaron Hotchner in seventeen minutes," a woman explained to the man at the front desk. Reid recognized her voice, it was Elizabeth Doyle.

"Ma'am, the Behavioral Analysis Unit is on of the most elite groups within the FBI's ranks. Agent Jareau just left, I have a hard time believing Agent Hotchner would have filled the position so quickly. Especially with someone like you," the man replied, a sneer on his face.

"Someone like me?" She countered.

"Look, I'll level with you," the man told her. "You're just not smart enough to join the BAU."

"Excuse me?"

"It's obvious your accent is fake, a ploy to get people to believe you're smarter than you are. I've been working my profiling skills," the man bragged "and you just aren't smart, according to my profile of you." He adjusted his name tag, which read "Joe."

"According to your profile, Joe?" Eliza nearly shouted. Reid had never seen her like that, though to be fair, he hadn't seen much of her. Based on the information she divulged that night on the rooftop, Reid knew he should help, and it was going to take all the strength the silent genius had.

"Is there a problem here?" Reid interjected, tired of the man's assumptions.

"Actually," Joe informed him, "there is. This woman claims she's joining the FBI. I just don't believe her. Maybe I should call Benny over here."

"This woman had a name," she spat, "it's Agent Elizabeth Doyle. And I'd rather not be lectured on intelligence by a man who works at a reception desk, and reads Twilight: Breaking Dawn in public." The receptionist pushed the book off of his desk, looking very guilty.

"I-I can accompany Agent Doyle." Reid's courage was faltering. "I can take her upstairs to Agent Hotchner's office. If he dismisses her, I'll walk her back down and hand her off to Benny before apologizing to you." Joe looked at Reid critically, assessing the authenticity of the man's words. Finally, he nodded. His agreement was partly due to Eliza's threatening nature in the moment, but perhaps more because Aaron Hotchner installed fear in those who didn't know him well.