In my veins {hotchniss}

5

Emily's Pov:

"You said they got cleared." I stated angrily into the phone putting another book from my box on the bookshelf. 

"They did?" He said sounding confused. 

"Then how come I'm not working there? How come I was humiliated today?" I snapped 

"I don't know, Look I'll make a few calls and see what I can do." He said sighing 

"Like that's going to help."

"I'll go above the other guy. What was his name? Hotchner?  He's not the only one in charge in that building, or in that unit. So it could work out, you never know."

"Fine." I said shaking my head knowing it wasn't going to work. 

"Okay, and for now, please just stay away from children." He said, and I could just hear the smirk in his voice.

"haha. Funny. Bye." I hung up and put the phone on my new counter as I looked around the quiet house.

Maybe I should've just got the stupid apartment instead. Go back to my normal routines. 

Should've went to a different unit. 

Anything to avoid seeing Aaron ever again.

But honestly, I wasn't going to give up that easily. And I wasn't going to let Clyde do all my work for me. 

Getting up off of the couch, I walked over to my bag searching around. 

It was in here somewhere. I knew it was, and I should've been smart enough to bring it with me, but I didn't.

Eventually after searching and searching I pulled out the manilla envelope.

Opening it eagerly, I looked around, flipping it page after page skimming the writing and other boring things.

Soon I found the signature part, and saw, in his own handwriting Aaron Hotchner's name.

Right here.

I smiled brightly, knowing that I had been right like always.

I was never wrong.

I didn't need Clyde's help. I could handle this myself. 

 I checked the clock my smile not fading at all.

 It was seven, too late to go now, maybe not.

I mean people stayed to work later than eight there, right?

No, of course I knew the answer considering how horrible my mother was with her hours, with spending time with me if anything. And she wasn't even in the FBI.

Debating if I should go or not I convinced myself that I should go, and that I wasn't going to let him win this, he didn't deserve to. The way he's been so rude, when I've done nothing wrong.

I put on my black boots that were my favorite, along with my black sweatshirt then grabbed the folder and grabbed my car keys off the marble countertop.

His car wasn't in his driveway when I walked outside, so that could mean he was still there. Maybe I should just wait for morning, but what if he gets called away on a case then? Am I just supposed to wait even longer?

Confronting him would feel so good considering how he embarrassed me infront of everybody else there.

I started up the engine, driving to the same location I drove to earlier today. 

I could do this.

I was stupid for doing it maybe but what did I have left to lose?

I needed this job. I needed to start over.

To find something so I could get my mind off of Ian. 

Because every second I was alone I kept replaying everything that happened over, and over in my mind like it was a song stuck on repeat, and I couldn't turn it off.

No matter how much I wanted too. 

After getting through security, I walked back onto the elevator, and stood in it.

Waiting.

This was a stupid idea. 

Completely stupid. 

When the doors opened, I walked onto the floor and felt a little bit of relief when I saw the group of judgey people's desks empty. 

I walked up to his office door and saw the light was off, indicating that he wasn't there.

I opened the door, looking around again like earlier.

I gently picked up one of the framed photos on his desk, and felt my heart stop for a brief second.

He actually looked happy in this photo.

Jack was in it too, but as a baby. 

And three other figures one who I'm guessing is Jack's mother.

I placed it back on his desk, and looked at another one, this one just had Jack's mother.

She was actually really pretty.

Maybe I shouldn't keep being so rude to Aaron-I mean he did lose his wife that's probably why he was the way he was.

When I went behind his desk to get a better look at one of the pictures, I saw his computer just sitting there, with the screen opened.

Like a habit, I clicked the spacebar making the black screen turn bright immediately. 

There wasn't a password-it just went to his last visited page.

Which for an FBI Agent, it was a bad thing not to have a password, I mean, why would he not have a password? 

I finally managed to focus and look at the screen, my eyes widening.

I slowly backed away from the computer shocked.

I saw my name in the google spacebar. 

Was he googling me?

I heard someone clearing their throat and looked up with my face expression falling even more.

Was I ever going to get good luck around here?