"It's even bigger than in the movies," Anissa whispered, eyes wide.
"You look like a dog leaning out of a window and sticking its tongue out," you replied flatly, a small grin playing on your lips.
"I'm glad to be here with you too, Y/N." Your manager moved from the window, facing you. "So, his name is Dr. Spencer Reid, he's a supervisory special agent at the Behavioral Analysis aka BAU."
"Mhm," you mumbled, observing the groups of trainees jogging by.
"Focus, Y/N."
"Sorry." You looked over. "Spencer Reid, check. BAU, check."
"Just...try and be sort of nice. Please?"
"I'm always nice!" You frowned.
"Right." Anissa handed you a notepad.
"Uh..."
"Take notes on what he does and how does it. Andy wants an authentic performance!"
"This is a little extreme."
"Y/N."
"Fine! I'll take notes." You sighed, leaning against the window and looking out at the large building you approached. "It is pretty big."
"We've arrived, Miss L/N." The chauffeur stopped the car, immediately getting out and opening the door for you.
"Miss L/N?"
You stepped out of the car, moving your sunglasses from your head to your face again. "Mm?"
"I'm Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, Dr. Reid's superior. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand.
"You too." You nodded at him, walking by and into the building.
Anissa quickly walked over, shaking his hand. "She's shy."
"Uhm...right."
"Shall we?" You asked, turning around.
"Yes, of course." Hotch walked ahead of the two of you, heads turning to watch you, phones not so subtly taking pictures of you, whispers, etc. "After you."
The three of you entered the elevator, ascending to the sixth floor. Anissa cleared her throat amidst the silence. "We're so grateful for this opportunity. From what I understand, the BAU is very busy."
Hotch chuckled. "The understatement of the year."
You silently stared straight ahead, walking out the moment the doors opened. Whispering, cameras, and stares ensued as you entered the bullpen.
"Is my outfit too flashy?" Penelope asked. "It needs to be the right level of flashy for Y/N to appreciate but not too much as to make her think I'm weird."
Spencer furled his brows. "I don't think that has any impact on her view of you."
"Spencer!"
"It looks great! You look great!" He raised his arms defensively.
"Good," she sighed, clapping her hands quickly. "I'm nervous."
"She's just another person."
"Another person, my ass! She's like...the Stephen Hawking of acting right now."
"That doesn't make sense—"
"Oh my god! She's here!"
Spencer looked over to the doors, where a woman walked in nonchalantly. Her blouse didn't have a single crease, golden buttons lining the tweed jacket wrapped around her shoulders, matching the skirt she had on. Sunglasses covered half of her face.
"Reid." Hotch motioned for the boy to come over. Spencer got up, making his way to his supervisor and two strangers. "Miss L/N, I'd like you to meet Dr. Spencer Reid."
You removed your sunglasses, placing them in your bag, and looking directly into Spencer's eyes. "Pleasure."
Spencer glanced around awkwardly. "Uh hi there. I'm Spencer."
"Yes, I heard." Your gaze was cold, almost sending a shiver down his spine.
"Well uh I guess we're gonna spending some time together, huh?"
You walked past him, observing the room. "It's smaller than I imagined."
"Erm what is?" Spencer approached you slowly.
"What exactly does a profiler do?" You turned around, facing him. "I mean what's the difference between a profiler and a regular agent? It can't be too much—"
"Dr. Reid!" Anissa walked over, extending her hand. "Anissa Suri, I'm Y/N's manager. It is such an honor to meet you, I am so thankful to you for doing this. I understand you're busy."
Spencer definitely preferred the smile and gratitude of Anissa than the woman looking around beside her. "Sorry, I uh don't shake hands—germs."
"No worries!" Anissa smiled.
"But uhm no problem, Andy and I go way back."
"You're too young," you said, interrupting the conversation.
"Pardon?" Spencer asked, glancing at you.
"Andy is at least 37. You don't look that at all, how did you two attend college together?"
"I uh I skipped a few grades."
"A few?" You tilted your head, somehow making you significantly more intimidating.
"I started college at 12."
"So you're 30."
"29."
"Close enough." You turned away again, continuing to study the room.
Spencer opened his mouth, no words coming out.
"Why don't we go meet the rest of the team..?" Hotch suggested.
"Of course!" Anissa began walking, making a face at you that screamed 'lighten up.'
"Uh guys—"
"Oh my gosh!" Penelope squealed. "You're Y/N L/N!!"
You awkwardly stepped back from her. "Uhm yes, hi."
"I'm a HUGE fan! My name's Penelope! Penelope Garcia!" She excitedly took your hand, shaking it.
You quickly pulled it away, Spencer immediately feeling a wave of anger towards you. "Pleasure."
"Calm down, babygirl." Derek extended his hand to you. "Derek Morgan."
You kept your hands at your side. "Nice to meet you." Something about the lack of enthusiasm in your voice said otherwise.
Derek uncomfortably stepped back, his arm around Penelope.
"Jennifer Jareau." The woman didn't even bother extending her hand, probably already creating a mental profile of you.
"Pleasure," you repeated.
"I'm Emily Prentiss."
You, again, ignored the hand in front of you and nodded at her. "I look forward to working with all of you."
"Is she sure about that?" JJ murmured to Emily, who held in a snicker.
"I have a photo shoot in an hour." You looked to Anissa. "Will this be all for now?"
Anissa blinked a few times. "Uh I guess so, yeah."
You walked off, the team watching you leave.
"I swear she lightens up." Anissa took a deep breath. "We are so happy to be doing this with you, Dr. Reid, and are handful to the rest of you for being so understanding. We'll see you tomorrow!" Anissa waved, chasing after you.
The team stood in silence for a few seconds, all watching the glass doors shut.
"She sucks," Derek said blankly.
"Tell me about it," Emily muttered.
"Sorry, Reid." JJ pat his shoulder. "You're in for it."
Spencer pursed his lips. "I'm telling Andy I can't do it. There's no way I'm working with somebody like her."
"But Spencer—" Penelope interjected.
"No." He exhaled. "She was rude to you and to everyone else, and I'm not tolerating it."
Penelope looked at her feet. "Just think about it."
"I have, and it's what I'm doing. If she can pretend to not be a jerk enough to be famous, she can pretend to be an FBI agent well enough too."
And so Spencer found himself typing a lengthy email to Andy, his mouse hovering over the send button.