Chapter Text
—“You’ve come highly recommended, Ms Natalie Torres,”
Hotch’s eyes briefly glanced up from the file that sat upon his desk. The rays from the recently risen sun seeped through the gaps in the blinds, not a speck of dust upon them. The man always arrived at work just as the sun rose in the winter months, he’d pull his car into the lot just as it peeked over the trees that resided near the building.
When his eyes flitted upwards, he took another glance at the woman that sat before him. She had sharp features with the type of eyes that noticed the details that most missed. Her eyes kept glancing to various areas of the office- the windows that showed the open planned bullpen which only held a couple of figures at this time, Hotch and finally, the file.
Her hands sat folded on her lap, one finger instinctively fiddling with the material of her dark work trousers, the ones that matched her blazer. A simple cardboard storage box sat at her side, a large shoulder bag and jacket sitting upon it.
Hotch had noticed how light the box had seemed when she first entered his office a few minutes prior, given she’d worked at the FBI for almost four years now, but he didn't comment. It wasn’t his place. Plus, he knew the team would mention it somehow when they saw her unpacking her possessions from her previous unit, or lack of, so to speak.
“Your previous unit chief has nothing bad to say, and your section chief heavily encouraged you to accept the transfer,”
‘Your section chief’. Both the Behavioural Analysis Unit and the Organised Crime unit fell under Erin Strauss’ reign, so Hotch wasn’t 100% sure why he referred to Strauss as only being her unit chief.
”And you completed the recommended profiling course. So all that’s left to be done is for me to officially welcome you to the BAU.”
The ghost of a small smile appeared on Natalie’s face. She wasn’t known to be the smiling type by anyone that knew her, however the confirmation of a new job, a fresh start, was enough to make her neatly lined lips twitch upwards ever so slightly for a split second. It’s well over by the time the pair each extend a hand to shake, almost as if it didn’t happen.
”Thank you for this opportunity," Natalie began, opening her mouth before she realised she needed to glance down at the polished name plate that sat at the front of the man's desk. Something she had made a mental note of, however like one too many things recently it seemed to have slipped her mind. “Agent Hotchner,” she added, noticing how similar ‘Aaron Hotchner’ and ‘Agent Hotchner’.
”Hotch if you please. That’s what the team tends to call me.”
Hotch. The Team. To Natalie Torres, the concept of nicknames was too close to comfort, and given the team had given their boss a nickname made her realise that this unit. Was potentially rather close knit, something she typically attempted to avoid. Civil? Yes. Friendly? Potentially yes. Familial, or anything remotely similar? God, no. She ‘didn’t do’ friends. She ‘didn’t do’ closeness. She especially ‘didn’t do’ nicknames. They irked her. Unsettled her. They stirred up memories that emitted a smell so pungently awful he couldn’t help but gag.
She figured if she showed she wasn’t into these kind of things the team would eventually back off, right?
”Hotch.” Torres repeated the nickname once, tossing it around her mouth and discarding it in the waste paper basket that sat beside the desk. She wouldn’t be using it.
“Why don’t I show you to your desk?” He offered, quickly checking the watch on his wrist. “The team tends to start arriving soon. It’ll give you a chance to unpack your stuff and settle in properly.”
Settle in. It was a common phrase. One that people use almost every day. So why did it make her feel trapped like that? Natalie shook it off, the whole ‘nickname’ thing and the team potentially being familial was throwing her off. Making her paranoid. She accepted Hotch’s offer, balancing her bag on her shoulder, coat on her arm and box in her hand as the man made his way over to the door, attempting to engage in small talk, something in which Natalie Torres hated yet played along with, answering menial questions that didn’t spark much of an interest until university came up.
”Yale? Another team member, Emily Prentiss, went there too.”
”Really? Wow, that’s, that’s interesting. I wonder if we shared any of the same professors.” Natalie kept her tone unusually light. She knew making a rude or potentially stand-offish first impression would not bode well for her. Clearly, her previous unit chief had failed to mention her utter lack- no she had people skills- her utter hatred at small talk and unnecessary conversations,
“You’ll have to check with her when she comes in. I’m sure she'd love to talk to you about it.”
She gave a small nod. “I’ll make sure to check in with her at some point.”
Natalie was beginning to consider that for someone who is supposedly one of, if not, the best profiler at the FBI, was acting pretty oblivious to the fact that she was not one for any of this. She was just here to work. Solve cases. Save lives, all that jazz. Maybe he just didn't care. Or wanted to see how far she would go. Which wasn’t very far, however thankfully before that limit was reached, they had arrived at Torres’ new desk.
They exchanged a few breakfast words before Hotch excused himself back to his office and Natalie was left in her L-shaped ‘nook’ in the bullpen. It was pretty central, with a small barrier on the far sides of the desk that only rose about the height of a small book above the desk. That was the only measurement that came to mind, given the desk adjacent to her own had many, many books pushed up against the small barrier that divided the desks now. The girl wasn’t too sure about calling it a barrier now since, upon sitting on the desk chair, she had realised that she’d likely to be able to clearly see, and talk to, the person who sat at the other desk. She’d already worried about how much the open planned-ness would mess with the carefully crafted work routine she’d established in her previous unit, this just threw a big, fat wrench into the works.
Natalie decided she wanted to be well unpacked and into her second coffee by the time the other members of the team arrived. She carefully hung her jacket on the back of her chair and slid her bag under the desk, next to the empty waste paper basket. She’d unpack that after the box was sorted out. She placed the box on the desk, in front of the computer which sat in the corner of the desk.
With a practiced hand, Torres pulled the lid off the box and began to unpack the very few contents that sat inside. Three books, in which she leant against the barrier in a similar manner to her ‘desk-partner’. A small cactus, somehow she had not killed it yet and it surprised her, nethertheless she was still proud (even though she knew cacti didn't require much maintenance). A small, metal pen holder that showed no more personality than a file organiser, which is what she pulled out next. Then, last but not least a couple of drawer organisers were pulled out and tucked into the top drawer of the desk.
The box was discarded under the desk and she pulled out her bag, only taking out a few stationary items like pens, a ruler, sticky notes, two highlighters and a stapler. A couple of pens, the ruler and the highlighters went into the pen holder. Everything else was placed in the top desk drawer, alongside a notebook.
It was then the woman made her way over to the break area where there sat a small kitchenette. She opened the cupboard in order to find a spare mug- she’d made a mental note to bring one in as soon as possible. There were spare mugs in the cupboard, however there was also a rather large octopus shaped one, a design Natalie had never seen before on a mug. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out what she supposed to be a plain spare one, instead she was quick to discover that it was labelled ‘SPENCER REID’. With a quick raise of her eyebrow, she placed the mug pretty much exactly where she’d picked it up from. This ‘Spencer Reid’ seemed to be pretty OCD, whoever he was. At least that’s what Natalie figured.
༺═──────────────═༻
“You reckon Hotch found a new team member yet?”
Derek Morgan was leaned against the back wall of the elevator, arms casually folded over his chest. He’d arrived earlier than normally for whatever reason and ran into Spencer in the elevator. Spencer had been running uncharacteristically late this morning, both of the men straying slightly from their usual routines had led to this shared elevator ride.
A week or so ago, Hotch had announced that due to a budget increase they’d be hiring a new team member. He hadn’t mentioned the recruitment since, however, and none of the pre existing team members had seen anyone new going in or out of his office.
“Maybe. He took a while to find a new team member after Elle, so we probably won’t have anyone new for a while.”
The circumstances in which Emily was hired were different, very different. The new hire wasn’t ’replacing’ anyone’s role, instead creating a new one. The unit had been allocated the budget to hire a new member, not that they’d needed one, nor were in a rush to find one.
“Elle was different though.”
There was a hint of reminiscence in Derek’s tone, he never admitted it but he did miss Elle, even if she’d left the team a long time ago.
“You ever hear off her?”
“No I-uh- I tried. I guess she didn’t want to be found.”
Spencer never truly admitted how he’d felt after her leaving the team. It was a rough time, and he understood why she did it, he really did. He just wished they’d had more time. That he’d said more. Been there more. The cases that followed after she left were hard, which made him hard on Emily, something he’d still regretted.
The elevator came to a halt and the sleek doors slid open. The two men exited the elevator wordlessly, neither of them really knowing how to continue the conversation after that. They pushed open the glass doors that had the FBI logo printed on them to the BAU, Morgan stepping in first.
The bullpen was empty for the most part. The outline of Hotch was visible through the window to his office but other than that the only thing there was the stiff early morning air, replacing the usual buzz of the room when it was full.
“Looks like you have a new neighbour, pretty boy.”
Morgan nudged Reid, nodding towards the desk that sat adjacent to Spencer’s. For a while it had been empty, well not completely empty since it had been used as collective extra desk space for everyone, but it had been vacant.
Now the computer was turned on and open on the login screen, a few files and books sat on it, although they were meticulously arranged, two bags sat underneath and a jacket hung on the back of the chair. The mysterious new team member was missing, their chair empty.
As the pair began to make their way towards the new desk, the new team member appeared, holding a scorching hot coffee mug, walking towards her desk from the break area. She was tall, a little over average with dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her outfit was plain and simple- dark pointed boots, black wide legged trousers and a matching blazer with a white button up shirt that had the top two buttons undone in a fashionable manner.
She gracefully sat down in her chair, taking a sip of her drink as the steam still wrapped around her angular face. The woman placed the cup down, fingers stretching for a moment before they began to type methodically on the keyboard in a practiced way.
Spencer really wasn’t in the mood for anything unexpected today. He’d have hoped that Hotch would have announced that the new member was joining before they actually did so he’d have time to prepare, adjust his routine ever so slightly to accommodate. Spencer wanted the time to settle into work before introducing himself to the new team member, but given the rate of Derek’s confident stride as he made his way towards the desk, he knew that wouldn’t be happening.
“So, Hotch finally settled on a hire.”
Morgan began as he got within earshot of the desk, loud enough to cause the woman to turn her head towards their direction.
“I’m Derek Morgan.” He flashed his stupid, signature grin. “And this here is your desk buddy, Dr Spencer Reid.”
He pushed Reid forward ever so slightly in a playful manner before extending his hand. The woman’s gaze flitted between Spencer and Derek before she extended her hand in return and shook Derek's.
“Natalie Torres. Pleasure to meet you.”
Her hand automatically went out to shake Reid’s but he didn’t return the favour. “Did you know the amount of bacteria that’s transferred in a handshake-“
“Reid, be nice and shake Torres’ hand.” Morgan interjected, sounding like a parent, knowing exactly what he was about to say and knowing full well that anyone who didn’t know him would take it the wrong way.
“You don’t have to shake my hand if you don’t want to. I get it.” She dropped her hand back to where it was before Reid could shake hers. Natalie had met germaphobes before, and she knew that sometimes with small things like that it’s best to just leave them to it.
“So, what unit are you from or is this your first official job here?”
“Organized crime. Three years.”
She was blunt, dry, like she didn’t want to continue the conversation. Natalie didn’t give any more information than the bare minimum when she spoke, and both Derek and Spencer noticed. They both sensed that she didn’t actually want to talk to anyone at this moment in time.
“That’s- that’s cool. I’m going to-“ Reid gestures towards his desk. “Have some stuff I need to catch up on.”
“Yeah- I got a report I need to send in to Hotch. Talk later?”
“Sure”
༺═──────────────═༻
“Reid. Intel. You’ve spoken to her.”
Garcia’s chair spun around as Spencer entered the room holding a mug of coffee. A glittery pink pencil with a green tuffet of fur balanced between her colourfully painted nails, a smile appearing on her bright pink lips. The woman had been too swamped with work to make her way to the bull pen, although she had intended to as soon as the news recanted her ears that a new team member had joined.
“What’s her name again- Natasha?”
“Natalie Torres.”
He corrected, stepping further into the ‘bat cave’, his eyes darting over all of the colourful objects that decorated the desk area. They all ranged in size and use, however they were all tied to the same key themes: Unicorns, kittens and anything bright and colourful enough to distract Penelope from the horrors of the job.
“Natalie. That’s it. Is she nice? Is she just simply wonderful? Is she pretty?”
“Uhh- I don’t know.”
“To which one?”
Spencer lowered the pink octopus mug onto Garcia’s desk next to the keyboard onto a coaster. The coaster was white with pink cursive lettering that said the phrase ‘Live, Laugh, Love’. A few faded brown rings sat on the area around the coaster, it was clear she didn’t always use it.
“She didn’t really want to talk. I think she just wanted to get on with her work to be honest. I mean, after she’d spoken to everyone she started working and hasn’t really stopped.”
“Aw poor thing- she must be shy.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, she was fine when she was meeting everyone. So I wouldn’t say it’s that.”
“Hmm.” Garcia paused a second, head turning slightly to skim over the various computer monitors before she continued speaking. “So is she?”
“Is she what?”
“Pretty?” She stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well technically beauty is subjective. Although there is what many people consider conventionally attractive, there isn’t really an official-“
“Oh you think she’s pretty don’t you.”
“What? I never said that-“ Spencer felt the tips of his ears begin to turn pinker and pinker by the second.
“You so do. I asked you about her and you started blabbing, plus you’re bright red. Spencer and the newby-“ she began in a sing-song-like voice.
“Garcia-“
Penelope laughed loudly, she’d always enjoyed playfully winding up Spencer. Especially if it was at his expense.
“I’m just teasing. So she’s pretty much a complete mystery is she?”
She spun her chair around to her computer and began typing rapidly at typical Garcia speed.
“Yeah. I guess she just values her privacy-“ Reid then realised what the woman was doing. “-wait you can’t do that.”
“What? I’m just being a little nosy. You think I didn’t do it to everyone when they first joined? It’s not like I’m gonna- oh.”
Spencer poked his head over Penelope’s shoulder, unable to suppress his own need to know more. He squinted his eyes at her screen before speaking.
“Are they sealed?” He steps back again, hands falling into his trouser pockets.
“Seems it. That’s odd.” She pauses, sighing and turning back around.“I draw the line at sealed files when it comes to team members. You’ll just have to get it out of her.”
“Get what out of her?”
“Anything. Everything. C’mon, boy genius. We only know our mystery girl's name.”
“Why me? I can’t talk to her-“
“Your desk is literally right next to hers.” Penelope stated, as if it was a plain fact that was clear to see, which it technically was.
“That doesn’t mean-“
He’s cut off by the sound of an email. One appears on Garcia’s screen, and she swivels back around to inspect it. There’s a few seconds of silence before Spencer opens his mouth again.
“I should probably-“
“There’s a case coming in.” Penelope cuts in. “Talk to Torres. I’ll see you at the round table.”