Sunday Surprises

The interview

The clock was ticking slower than physically possibly, the air was thickly hot and the man that reluctantly took the last seat in the room showed no sign of speeding up what was turning out to be the worlds worst interview...

Sunday Paisley woke up that morning as she always did; bright and early.

She watered her plants scattered around every possible window in her air bnb, washed her long dark hair in the questionably stained kitchen sink that was placed next to the bed, tidied the mess left by the mice who had made a home under her pull out bed and then finally, once her surroundings were up to standard, took on the task of picking out an outfit.

It wasn't that she had an obsession with clothes... or that she had far too many of them to fit into the two suitcases stuffed to the brim... or even that the amount of shoes and colour co-ordinating jackets vacuum packed into various tote bags would impress the clingiest of hoarders...not at all...

It was that this outfit was one of the most important she had to make in a while, one that consisted of more than her recent uniform of sweatpants and the same two hoodies on top of each other in her heatless room.

"Blue is too cold, pink is too perky-" she mumbled to herself as she added the finale waves to her dark brown hair, flicking her short curtain bangs to their rightful place, multitasking as usual, her mind one step ahead of any task she was finishing.

"Yellow skirt? Yeah, great if you wanna look like you've pissed yourself Sunday" she quietly chuckled at her mocking before pausing with a sigh and automatically placing a dollar from her side table into a handmade 'swear' jar by her bed, followed by a self scolding tut as she placed various skirts and top combinations out on the world's most uncomfortable bed.

It had been six weeks since she had temporarily moved into the air bnb that most definitely did not match it's online ad description, six weeks since she was promised a job that came with accommodation she desperately needed, six weeks since she ran...

"Okay, think Sunday; it needs to be professional, but cute? Sophisticated but not uptight, something that screams 'please let me look after your child I promise I'm not a stranger danger situation'" she held up a green semi-fitting cap sleeved midi dress in the mirror, tilting her head at it for a few moments before throwing it on over herself and her black slightly opaque tights.

She tilted her head once again, doing a dog-like circle around herself in the mirror before hearing a voice not belonging to herself in her head.

'Cover those hog arms Annika, they want a nanny not a freak show...'

Sunday shook her head with an embarrassed chuckle despite it just being her in the room, grabbing a small short sleeved grey cropped cardigan to throw over the top of her dress, buttoned up at the bottom, and then slipping into her boots for the day.

Her makeup lay on the floor by the mirror on the back of the front door as she sat cross legged perfecting her blushed lip and glossy makeup look with her tote bag packed the night before by her side, waiting for one of 20 alarms she had prepping her day to go off to tell her to leave.

Everything was planned, everything was perfect, everything was set up for this interview she had been dreading for weeks to go well.

Everything but the man she was being interviewed by...

Aaron Hotchner woke up that morning in the way he always did lately; on the wrong side of the bed, grumpy and surrounded by case files.