As if by magic, I make it back Friday night. It's a rush to get perfectly ready for the flight on Saturday morning, and I barely sleep, but I board the plan on time. Caro hugs me tighter than she ever has before. Her arms squeeze around me. My brothers are enthusiastic in our own ways. To be honest, I didn't really care about disappointing them.

New York City is crawling with tourists, and as a traveller, I loathe them. We are only there for a few days, halfway into the week. Bastien convinces us all to go out to a bar. Caro is upset by the whole ordeal and she practically hangs at my side in there. Stéphane turns down a cute girl, and I can feel Caro huff. She's serious about us needing dates for her wedding. They've got a venue, but there's been an issue with dates. If she doesn't let me know soon, we might end up repeating the lead up to this trip. Even if it's been fun.

We make plans for Christmas, which will be in the country this year, and since Stéphane and I flew up to them, everyone is going to stay at my place in DC.

Now I'm going to actually have to try to get a new apartment.

That is how I spend most of my free time in October. The others go out on assignments every week, and twice I spend my lunch hour without them pouring through different places. I take Estelle on a few tours. There's a swanky loft apartment and I see her eyes light up inside it, but there is no way we could ever cover the rent.

"Okay, so this place doesn't have in-unit laundry, but it's super cheap and we'd be able to put in an office," Estelle passes me a print of one of the places she's picked.

I shake my head, "in-unit laundry is my non-negotiable."

"A dishwasher is my non-negotiable, but I gave up on that," she huffs.

"I'll wash your dishes."

"I'll do your laundry."

I roll my eyes, shoving that one aside. I flip through a few of the places we've picked.

"You can have the bigger bedroom there. You could fit a desk."

Estelle groans, "you exasperate me. I need a separate room to think."

I shift through the stack once more. I hover over one, looking at the pictures. It's got massive windows, and a balcony. A tub, unfortunately, since Estelle isn't keen on having a tub when we could get a standing shower. It does have a dishwasher. No in-unit laundry, but there is one bedroom that is sort of squished in on the opposite side of the kitchen that we can use as an office. The building has a lot of amenities, including a workout facility, a lounge you can book, and a communal study space.

"That place?" she crinkles her nose as she peers over my shoulder. Then, she shrugs, "cheaper than the loft at least."

We end up snagging it just in time. They'll let us move in at the beginning of December, and then I have to spend the rest of October beginning to pack. Moving so much you start to dwindle down on your things. I don't have anything from my childhood anymore, but I'm sure Stéphane managed to squirrel away all of the stuff that matters. Still, a year in this place, as cramped as it is, and I've got so much. Junk drawers with dozens of pens that have dried up. At least it's like the weather. It's a dry October.

On Halloween, Estelle is going out with some of her colleagues to a party. She invited me, passingly, but we both know I have no interested in going. All of her academia friends don't exactly enjoy talking to me. I'm coming up on one year in this role and I'm finding I have less and less in common with the doctoral candidates who struggle to pay for drinks. For the first time in my life, I actually have savings.

Reid is giving an impassioned speech about Halloween to the others, and I'm trying to not pay attention. They've been on so many cases lately and Morgan's paperwork is sloppier than usual. Emily and Hotch are back, but we are still understaffed without Gideon. Besides, my first biannual update is happening in only three weeks. It's supposed to be a presentation lasting a few hours where I compile all of the new research on repeat offenders of violent crimes. With the house hunting, I'm behind.

When I hush falls over the office, I look up. My gaze follows theirs. An agent walks in the room barely nodding toward us as he heads in. I recognize his face, I can't place exactly where I know him from. He isn't close enough for me to read his name tag.

"Who..." I trail off.

Reid steps around the desk, his mask in his hands. His hair is a mess, cowlicks sticking off the top of his head and static on so many of the other strands. He leans down toward me so he can whisper.

"David Rossi."

I watch as the agent enters the office.

"He's replacing Gideon?"

Reid whispers back, "seems to be the case."

I can feel myself brimming. I read the books Reid loaned me on the flight to Spain. Normally, non-fiction is hard to get through. David Rossi is a legend. Well, Estelle thinks he's a hack, but she also thinks my whole job is stupid. She's made fewer weird comments about it though since I put in first and last months' rent down for the new place. Selling out pays the bills.

After that, it's hard to get back to work. Hotch brings out The David Rossi later, and introduces us all to him. Reid starts to ramble and Hotch cuts him off. I feel like my ears are ringing. I haven't felt this excited to meet someone since I attended talks at Oxford. When Hotch says my name I stick my hand out.

"Cole is our statistical analyst," thank God Hotch introduces me. "She's an expert in SPSS and she is the one who inputs all of our case files into ViCAP. She is your touch point for new research on criminal behaviours."

"We have one of those in house now?" Rossi asks.

"New as of last year," Hotch offers.

It is new. So new that Hotch hasn't made me do any of the biannual updates I'm contracted to provide until now. I try not to look back at my computer.

"Now, we've got a jet to catch," Hotch nods at me.

The others follow him out of the room, and I vaguely catch Rossi's surprise that we have our own jet as a unit. While everyone else does the briefing, I work. I'm used to crunch time. Throwing essays out in a few hours, while not ideal, is possible, especially if they are short. Seminars kill me. If I don't rehearse the words I need to say for days I stumble. I'm not even shy. There hasn't been enough practice. I'm doing my best to compile it all but I'm losing my brain.

At least things feel someone stable now. Rossi is a new member who will take some of the paperwork load off me. I'm not going to be thrown in the field again, and so I can focus on this report and then I can relax until I need to return to SPSS when the other statisticians update ViCAP with the UCR data and when the NCVS data comes in. I'm trying to hold it together.

They are all getting getaway bags. Reid stops at my desk.

"Do you need something?"

He shakes his head. He's always tall, but it is something to have to crane my head up to look at him at such an awkward angle. Reid grins down at me, without teeth.

"No," he says. "Just figured I'd tell you we are leaving. We shouldn't be gone that long. I know you like to know when we are out."

"I'm fine. I could use the office to myself," I tell him. "No backseat mathematicians bothering me."

Reid bends over to look at my spreadsheet. I grab my agenda off my desk to cover it. He shrugs, but a smile plays on his lips.

I find myself whispering, "does Rossi seem nice?"

He nods, his head up and down, "oh, he seems really great. Even if he is a little bit out of step with the new resources we have at our disposal, he's so knowledgeable that I'm sure he will already be an asset. He was surprised to meet Garcia, actually. She couldn't look at the photos."

My stomach is better than Garcia's, at least. I can stomach all of this stuff better than she can, certainly. Although, I probably should bring her soup tomorrow. It'll cheer her up, at least, especially if they are going to be off on a mission.

"Let me know how it goes," I can't stop smiling, and I can't stop noticing how I'm smiling.

It's because Rossi is here, I lie to myself. It's just because of him. And the new apartment. Everything is changing and it's actually exciting.

~~~~~

This is more soft and fuzzy than plot moving, but sue me. I'm done writing this book anyway, so it's not like I give a damn. Just, scheduling updates for you all to peruse. Should I add in a Sunday update? Maybe, but only if people are interested. Let me know in the comments, especially if there is something specific you are looking forward to seeing!