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He recognized her right away, though he didn’t let on. He pretended to forget the college she went to, but, not wanting to insult her intelligence, still guessed an Ivy League. He felt a bit ill at the prospect of her joining the team. He knew her mother, and, while Prentiss was smart, he didn’t know how much she had actually achieved versus what her mother had paid off. He felt guilty as her smile dropped. He pushed it aside as he pushed her aside in favour of the current case. When he got back, she was still there. His guilt grew. Had she really been waiting for three days? Just for a chance to work with them? His team? He pushed all thoughts down, and replaced it with cool aggression. She asked for a chance to prove herself, and he finally surrendered to her. She looked so excited and happy, he was almost happy he relinquished his reservations about her being on the team. Almost.
The next morning, he was almost glad that the team was being rude to her. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but something about her just made him feel like he needed a shower. When he heard Spencer and Derek joking about her language skills, calling her names, he only slightly felt bad for her. He questioned himself, wondering if he truly did dislike her so greatly. Then he remembered her mother, and how he was sure she was on this team not for her skills, but because of her family, and he knew he did. After she, Gideon, and Spencer left for Guantanamo, he heard JJ and Derek laughing about how she already had a bag ready, calling her a try-hard. When he walked by, they looked guilty, and apologised.
“No need,” he said, “I don’t care what you talk about, so long as you get your work done.”
He knew that Derek and JJ knew that this was a silent agreement, him trying to tell them that he also thought she was a try-hard. He gave them a trying smile before handing them more reports. They groaned, and he went up to his office, doing reports of his own.
As soon as Gideon got back, he asked to see him in his office.
“How did she do?”
“She did very well. Was a good part of the reason I got through to him,” Gideon responded.
He was nearly disappointed that Gideon thought she did well. He had wanted a reason to kick her off the team. She just didn’t fit in with his team, something about her was just so off . But, he supposed he could separate his disdain for her from his professionalism- if she was as good as Gideon was ranting about. He just wanted Gideon to leave, wanted to get home to his wife and son. He wondered briefly if Emily had ever settled down, before mentally shaking his head. He needed to get her out of his thoughts. He was vaguely aware of offering Gideon a drink, Gideon politely declining, and leaving him to his thoughts. He finished up the last of his latest report, got his coat, checked the time, and decided to leave. He was walking out of his office when some movement caught his eye. He put his hand on his gun reflexively before realising it was just Prentiss. He was surprised she was here so late; he deduced she probably didn’t have a family, then. He watched as she went to drink out of a mug, looked into it, and sighed. She picked her pen back up, and quietly began writing again. He figured she was trying to get on his good side and refused to let it work. He could be professional, yes, but he did not have to like her- nor would he. He walked down the steps loudly, not wanting to startle her. She looked up and gave him a shaky smile.
“Goodnight, Agent Hotchner, sir,” she said, almost whispering.
“Lock up after you leave. You have a key, yes?” She nodded, and made a sound of acknowledgement.
“Thank you for today,” she added quietly as he left. Right before the elevator doors shut, he caught a glimpse of her face, which was lined with a stubbornness he had not yet seen in his agents. He chuckled lightly to himself, “She’s gonna be the death of me.”