i’ve never heard anyone talk about this but there’s an episode of cm where the bau has to turn around on the jet and aaron says “i’ll inform the pilot” sooooooooooo i’m feeling pilot!reader who’s super confident and always flirts with him PLEASE
disclaimer: i don't fly planes i don't know the process of rerouting mid-flight but i tried my darndest
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It's not every day that a case is solved before the BAU even land, but this unsub wasn't as smart as everyone thought he would be. He'd revisited his third crime scene just in time for the police to show up, and he won't be getting out of prison anytime soon.
Derek lets out a scoff of a laugh at the man's idiocy, already reaching for his headphones, "I guess we've got our weekend after all. Prentiss, you ever gonna tell me what sin to win means?"
Aaron stands as Emily narrows her eyes at Derek, a smirk curling over her lips, "There are some questions, Morgan, that if you have to ask, it means you probably couldn't handle the answer."
Before Derek can fire back Hotch heads for the curtain, "Alright, you two. That's enough. I'm going to go tell the pilot we can turn around. They'll need to reroute us."
There's a hum of acknowledgement that circles the jet, and Aaron passes through the snack station, rapping his knuckles gently on the door to the cockpit.
A green light flashes over the doorframe and a bell chimes, the door unlocking automatically with the press of a button inside.
"Y/N," Aaron greets you, on a first-name basis from calling you to work alone. He tries joking, something he forgets to do sometimes at work, "Just kidding. We're headed back to Virginia, can you pull a u-turn in an airplane?"
You turn to grin at him, face peeking out from the side of the headrest, "What, you forget your toothbrush?"
He's glad his joke went over well, and he laughs at your own, a smile gracing his features, "They don't need us anymore. Are you able to reroute us mid-air? Or will we have to land first?"
"If there's not much air traffic we can turn," You hum, peering at diagrams and screens that Aaron doesn't understand, "But if it's busy we'll just have to land and set up another flight path."
"Understood," He nods, checking his phone that looks comically small in his large hands, "When will you know?"
"Right," You hum, analyzing the display in front of you, and checking a note you've made for yourself on a sticky note that's stuck to your seat, "Now. I think we can make it without landing, but we'll have to wait for a commercial flight to pass. Shouldn't take longer than 20 minutes to turn, then an hour to get back."
"Thank you," Aaron heaves a relieved sigh, thankful not to have to waste more time than they already have, "You're a lifesaver. I owe you one, really."
"Breakfast in bed," You decide, your shit-eating grin only widening, "Hey, next time you're on a case, we'll share a hotel room. That'll make it easy for you."
Aaron doesn't know exactly how to respond to such a bold statement. He's bold himself, but not with flirting. He feels his cheeks heat up and prays you can't see it, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he calculates his response.
"Pancakes or waffles?"
"Waffles," You laugh, "And whipped cream."
"Mm, okay," Aaron pretends to deliberate, headed back to the doorway, "Over the top, or on the side?"
"It's not for the waffles," You chime, and Aaron is infinitely glad you're turned around again to face the display in front of you, because it means you don't see him trip over the base of the doorway, "Why else do you think we're sharing a room, Hotchner?"
