Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Challenges listed at the bottom.

Word Count: 486

Disaster

"Excuse me, sir, you dropped this," Emily said, holding out a wallet to the man in front of her.

He took it from her with a smile. "Thank you. Today has been a disaster, that would have only compounded it."

"We all have days like that," she offered, attempting to be comforting. "I have a disaster at least once a week."

"Well, thank you for making my day less of a disaster."

She nodded and watched him walk away. She lingered in the lobby for a while and then, with a deep breath, stepped into the elevator. She'd arrived at the Bureau entirely too early for her interview, but she thought that ten minutes early was okay.

She travelled up to the 6th floor and stepped out, steadying herself before she approached the desk.

"I have an interview with SSA Hotchner?"

The girl on the desk regarded her for a moment and then nodded. "Take a seat. He'll come and collect you when he's ready to see you."

Emily nodded and sat down, crossing one leg over the other as she waited. All of her professional life had been working towards this moment, an opportunity at the BAU.

Despite the other opportunities she'd been offered—on paper, better than the BAU—this was the one she really wanted. The one she'd wanted for years.

"Agent Prentiss?"

She looked up to see the man who'd earlier dropped his wallet and flushed. She couldn't believe she'd been so casual with him, admitting herself to be a disaster even, to the man who could be her new boss.

She stood and accepted his offered hand, shaking it firmly as she told herself that what happened before the interview didn't matter.

"Follow me."

…

The interview was a success, she thought. Or at least, she hoped it was.

Agent Hotchner had gone through her history with her, and apart from the slight hiccup with her Interpol file, which she couldn't tell him about given the nature of her work, she thought he'd been impressed.

She just couldn't get past the way she'd messed up before the interview had even started.

Later that night, she padded around her flat, unable to settle herself.

She was surprised at herself how wound up she was about it, but she'd never really wanted something so much before.

Finally, irritated with herself, she slumped on the sofa with her laptop open in her lap, surfing random websites until she thought she was tired enough to sleep.

Just as her eyes were slipping closed, her laptop beeped to signal an incoming email.

She clicked it open and her eyes widened. There were some details listed but her eyes were automatically attracted to the bottom of the email.

The job is yours if you want it. Wheels up at 8:30am tomorrow, fetch your go-bag.

SSA Hotchner.

Apparently, Agent Hotchner didn't mind that she was a disaster after all.

Written for:

Showtime: 1. Alexander Hamilton: Ambitious

Shelter Building: 7. Rope: (scenario) 'I was not expecting the man/woman I just talked to so casually to be my boss.'