CHORUS
You are a woman marked for sorrow.
ELEKTRA
Yes, I know sorrow. Know it far too well.
My life is a tunnel choked by the
sweepings of dread.
⟿ criminal minds
⟿ aaron hotchner
...
CHAPTER FIVE: ANNOYING COWORKER INSISTS ON EXISTING RIGHT IN VISUAL RANGE
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
COFFEE! COFFEE! COFFEE!
The woman's mind screamed for the life-giving beverage as she took slow sips, relishing in the rich aroma and the warmth that spread through her body. Every word that fell out of their unit chief's lips about the case just passed by her ears as she needed something to kickstart her gears. She couldn't believe her current circumstances—on a plane bound for Las Vegas with the BAU team she was assigned to. And the fact that Chief Strauss insisted on her presence only added to her disbelief.
During the car ride earlier with Hotchner, silence hung heavy in the air. Thankfully, her boss refrained from making any comments, which eased her discomfort. Beatrice always prided herself on her independence, never wanting to be a burden or indebted to anyone. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she owed her boss for the favor he did by driving them to the airport.
Actually, Bea took a moment before boarding the jet to call Chiara because she had made a promise to be present at the young girl's ballet recital. That was the reason she was heading to Washington. Thankfully, Chiara understood the urgency of her work. She was a sweet and forgiving girl after all, never one to hold grudges, but that only made Beatrice feel a pang of guilt. She will have to make it up to Chiara once she returns and call her again today when she can.
Now observing the team from a distance, the analyst couldn't help but feel a sense of inadequacy wash over her. The team's collective talent and intelligence were daunting, making her question her own abilities. She felt like an outsider, a new kid in a school of popular kids. Choosing to remain at a distance, she continued sipping her coffee, content to observe.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the dark-skinned profiler approaching her until his voice broke through her reverie. Startled, she turned to face him, mustering a smile in an attempt to hide her inner turmoil. "Hey, you okay? You've been standing there for like ten minutes now."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay," she replied, her voice lacking conviction. She set aside the biscuits she had found, her appetite suddenly diminished.
Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly seeing through her facade. He had always been perceptive, a skill that came naturally to profilers. She let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. "Actually, no."
"You want to talk about it?" he offered, concern etched on his face.
"It's just. . ." She brushed her hand through her hair, trying to find the right words to express her feelings of doubt and insecurity. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. I don't think I'll be of any help."
