Special Agent Dean Winchester was probably more nervous than he should have been. After all, it was just another transfer, not a punishment, and he wasn’t exactly unpracticed at moving around.
Still, he was nervous. Usually, when he moved to a new office, people just straight up told him what they knew about it.
Every time he’d told someone he was moving to LA they’d simultaneously congratulated him for making it onto Don Eppes’ team, and warned him about Don Eppes’ team.
So now he didn’t know what to think.
It took him the better part of the morning to sort through the FBI’s usual paperwork cloud. A black woman with masses of curly hair was sitting on the empty desk he’d been directed to.
“Hey, you Winchester?” She asked, holding out her hand.
Dean took her hand and shook it, she had a good handshake. “Dean Winchester.”
“Nikki Betancourt.” She said. “Liz and Colby are out on a call, Don’s at Cal Sci, I’m the welcoming committee. If I were you, I’d take advantage of the lull, get your stuff unpacked.
” Then she hopped off of his desk and swanned off.
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