Summary: You bring a guy out for drinks with the team, it’s safe to say your boss is very clearly jealous. He decides to ruin the night for everyone.
Warnings: the team is working a gross case, attack, choking, near death, angst
Word Count: 4.2 K
you guys… jealous!hotch and angry!reader but i lowkey love it lol
-
The bullpen was watching you and it wasn’t for the first time this week. The past few weeks you have been determined to get back out on the dating scene. You’ve spent months hung up on your boss. Months of reading into certain looks and touches that convinced you he felt the same.
Last month you stood in Aaron’s office with your arms crossed and your heart pounding.
“You don’t get to look at me like that and pretend it’s nothing.”
Hotch didn’t even flinch, “You’re reading into something that isn’t there.”
It stung even more than you thought it would, even though you knew he was lying. He simply stares back, his face void of anything you can read.
You nod once, “Fine. Then I’m done waiting for something that doesn’t exist.”
You meant it, and you walked out of his office without looking back. The team knew something had changed, but neither of you talked about it. Typically you and Hotch partnered up for most cases, but the following one you spent at opposite sides of the conference room and never alone in the same car. It went on like that for weeks.
“Second one this week,” Morgan mutters, leaning back in his chair watching you change out your shoes at your desk. He lets out a low whistle.
“Third.” Emily corrects.
You only look up so you can give them both a glare and they smirk back. You stand up and grab your purse, turning to face the audience you’ve gained since changing out of your work clothes.
“I will see you all tomorrow,” You smirk, finally tossing over your shoulder, “Enjoy your paperwork, everybody.”
Morgan offers a round of applause and you laugh all the way to the elevator. Rossi steps out of his office, having witnessed the entire exchange through his window. He has no doubt that Aaron did the same.
“Kid’s poking the bear.” He comments, looking over to the half-closed blinds.
The team looks over, making it obvious their subject had switched to their boss. Hotch forces himself to focus on the report in front of him, not the fact that you’ve left at five everyday for weeks, you used to stay almost as late as him.
The next day, you’re getting grilled while trying to make your morning coffee.
“Okay,” Garcia cheers, “I need details on this one!”
You roll your eyes, “His name is Ethan, he’s a lawyer.”
Morgan perks up, “A lawyer?”
“Mhm.” You stir your coffee, “Cute. Smart. Little arrogant. Thinks he’s the smartest person in every room he walks into.”
He was also charming and able to keep up with you better than most men could.
Rossi huffs a laugh, walking in for the day and straight for his office, “You got a type, kid.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you.
“Alright!” Emily walks up to join, “Who’s in for drinks tonight?”
“I’m in.” Morgan nods.
“Me too!” Garcia agrees.
“I already have plans.” You bite your lip, ready for this to start all over again.
“Of course she does!” Emily laughs.
“Bring him!” Garcia insists, “Is it dinner? Just come find us after! We’ll still be out.”
You give her a skeptical look, “I’ll think about it.”
It’s truly a terrible idea. You can’t think of a worse one, but you also know it’ll be entertaining at the very least.
You didn’t know it but later that night, the second Garcia squealed and said you and Ethan were on your way, Aaron decided he wouldn’t be driving home tonight. He accepted scotch from Rossi instead of his typical beer.
You had fully warned Ethan before coming that he was walking into the lion’s den. You knew it would happen, but his ego would never allow him to bow out from that. A table full of profilers after a few drinks? A cake walk.
You walk into the bar, Ethan’s hand carefully latched to your waist. When Aaron spots the two of you weaving over to them he nearly drops his glass. You went home to change before this date, you’re wearing a little more makeup than usual and you did your hair. You always look beautiful, but tonight you’ve highlighted it even more.
“There she is.” Emily grins.
“Y/n!” Garcia cheers, she gets up to pull you in for a big hug.
You laugh and hug her back tightly, your shirt riding up in the process. Ethan’s thumb traces over the newly exposed skin, Hotch slams his glass down on the table. Morgan and Rossi look at him, but it goes mostly unnoticed by the rest of the group.
You introduce Ethan to the group and tell him names as you go.
“So, you must like our girl Y/n here?” Derek smirks.
“Oh yeah.” Ethan smiles, “She had that whole ‘I can read you in thirty seconds’ thing. There are not a lot of people who have left me speechless.”
Laughter and smiles circle the table, you want to hide the slight blush growing on your cheeks but you know there’s no point. You can feel the daggers coming from Aaron from the other side of the table.
It started small. Little comments, subtle enough that anyone else might’ve missed them. Sadly, not a team of behavioral profilers.
He raises his glass up to get a refill, something he knows tomorrow morning he will deeply regret.
Ethan doesn’t miss how sharp his tone comes off, “It has its moments. Not everyone needs a gun to feel important.”
Morgan goes completely still and Garcia covers up her wide open mouth with her hand. JJ pinches the bridge of her nose.
You sigh under your breath, “Okay-”
Hotch leans forward, “No. Some of us prefer work that actually matters.”
The table falls completely silent at the dig. It doesn’t even feel like a Friday night at a crowded bar anymore, you just feel your heart thudding against your chest.
Ethan smiles, “And some of us prefer not to build our entire identity around a badge.”
“Oh, this is fun.” Rossi mutters into his glass.
“Guys,” You try again, “We’re not doing this.”
Neither of them are listening, they just continue to glare at each other. Eventually Ethan leans back, his gaze flicking between you and Hotch.
“Okay, I get it now.” He says slowly.
“What?” Hotch asks.
Ethan huffs a soft laugh that lacks real humor, “You don’t like me.”
Aaron simply raises his brows to challenge.
“But it’s not because of what I do.”
Your stomach drops, “Ethan-”
He doesn’t look at you, “It’s because of her.”
He nods in your direction and Aaron’s grip on his glass tightens.
“Careful.” Morgan murmurs a warning.
Ethan presses on, “So let me ask you something, are you just her boss?”
“That’s enough.” You snap.
“Did you miss your chance?” Ethan is playing with fire now.
It was already too late, you could see something in Hotch’s eyes snap.
“Hotch.” You warn.
He leans forward, “She’s still single to me.”
Aaron’s words hit the table like a gunshot went off. Ethan is quick to his feet, his chair scraping behind him.Ethan lets out another laugh, “That’s your angle? She’s ‘available’ so it’s fair game?”
“I’m stating a fact.” He manages to keep it controlled, but you can hear the real anger hiding under the surface.
“No,” Ethan shakes his head, “You’re staking a claim.”
Aaron’s chair scraps loudly when he bursts up, he’s on his feet and right in front of Ethan. Hotch has a couple inches on him, but not by much.
“Oh, absolutely not.” You stand between them, “You two are fucking ridiculous.”
Neither of them move a muscle.
“Hotch!” You yell, “Ethan, back off.”
Neither of them move still, you look back at the table and Emily is biting her straw with a smile. It’s clear none of them will be any help in breaking this up.
“Aaron.” You try again, pleading. His eyes flick to yours, they soften and he takes a few steps back.
Ethan runs a hand through his hair, “You know what? This-this is insane.”
“Yeah,” You mutter, “It is.”
“You didn’t tell me you had…this.”
Your throat tightens, “This is nothing.”
Ethan looks over your shoulder at Hotch and the rest of the group. Nobody verbally argued anything different, but the silence was saying everything you refused.
“Right,” Ethan leans down and presses a kiss to your hairline, “Call me when you figure that out.”
He walks toward the bar door and disappears before you can even process what just happened. You look back at Aaron, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He opens his mouth to start but hesitates.
“What?” You spit, grabbing your coat, “Now, you’ve got nothing to say?”
His jaw simply tenses and he shifts his weight to the other foot. You brush past him faster than the team has ever seen you move off the clock. The second the door slams shut, Hotch can move again. He goes straight after you.
“Hotch-” JJ starts but he’s already gone.
He calls your name the second he’s out the door. You don’t stop, your heels hit the pavement in sharp fast beats. You dig your phone out of your purse, trying to focus on anything else right now.
“Y/n.” He’s closer now, you spin around so fast that he almost runs into you.
“What?” You snap.
He lets out a few heavy breaths, buying him a couple seconds.
“You shouldn’t be walking alone this upset.”
You stare at him, “That’s what you went with?”
His jaw tightens, “That’s not what I-”
“No, go ahead.” You cut him off, throwing your hands up in the air, “Profile me. Tell me how I’m feeling, since you clearly have me all figured out.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to!” Your voice cracks from the volume you’re reaching, “You just sat there like you had any right to say something like that.”
He takes a step closer, “He was pushing boundaries.”
“So were you!”
You take a half step back and he notices.
It’s your turn to laugh humorlessly now, “God, I mean you couldn’t even admit it when I gave you the chance. I stood in your office and practically spelled it out for you, and you shut me down like I was imagining things.”
“I was trying to protect-”
“Don’t you dare say you were trying to protect me or the team.” You pull your jacket tighter around your body, “Look at us right now? How is this better? You don’t get to deny it exists and then turn around and act like you have some kind of claim when someone else shows up. You were so out of line.”
His brows soften, “I never said I had a claim.
“You didn’t have to,” You shoot back, “You practically announced it.”
“She’s still single to me.” He echoes his words from earlier, it finally hitting him with everything that he said. In front of the team. In front of you. He was too busy seeing red to realize how far he was going.
You point at him, “That. That right there. You can’t say stuff like that and then hide behind protocol and professionalism like this means nothing.”
“It doesn’t mean nothing.” He blurts.
Your breath hitches, and just for a second its feels like the two of you could be on the brink of something great.
“Then what does it mean, Aaron?” You ask, softer now but somehow it makes Aaron feel worse, “Because from where I’m standing, it means you only care when it’s convenient for you or because you don’t like the person I’m seeing.”
That hits him hard, he doesn’t even try to hide the regret and pain.
“That’s not true.”
“Then prove it.”
Silence. He spent years building control and boundaries for this job. You nod once like you had expected it.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You take another step away.
“I meant what I said, Hotch. I’m done waiting.”
“Y/n-” He tries.
You’re already turning and walking away.
“Don’t follow. I’ll text Rossi when I make it home.”
Ouch.
The weekend was quiet and passed far too slowly for Aaron. He called. Once first thing Saturday morning, and then twice that afternoon. He attempted once on Sunday, but that one went straight to voicemail so he didn’t try after that. He never left a message, he didn’t even know what he’d say if you picked up.
Monday morning felt wrong.
You walked in right on time, professional and composed. You don’t lift your head in the direction of Hotch’s office once and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Morning.” JJ says gently as you pass.
You smile, “Morning.”
Morgan leans back in his chair while you set down your bag and get settled at your desk.
“You good?”
You look up, “I’m great.”
Spencer frowns, “Your tone suggests-
“Reid.” You warn, taking on a whole new tone that doesn’t need explanation.
Hotch steps out of his office and all eyes go to him aside from yours. You don’t flinch, you don’t even look up. Rossi watches from the doorway to his office.
“Well,” he mutters just loud enough for Morgan, “somebody’s in the doghouse.”
Hotch waits for full attention but it doesn’t come.
“Conference room. Now.” His voice is steady, back to his usual command.
The team moves quickly, files in hand as they all move to the conference room. You slide into your seat without hesitation and accept the new file being passed out by Garcia.
Hotch starts the briefing, “We have three victims-”
He dives into the details and you flip open the file in front of you. You can feel him watching you, the team is guilty of looking between you both as well but you don’t look up from the pages ahead of you.
“The geographic profile suggests the unsub is a local.” You comment.
Hotch somehow doesn’t miss a beat, “Agreed. The dump sites indicate familiarity with the area.”
Rossi hums, a small smile on his face.
“What clear, direct communication.”
“Dave.” Hotch warns with a sharp tone.
He holds up his hands, “What? I’m just saying, when things go unspoken, people tend to fill in the blanks. That can get messy.”
You pen stills from writing notes to look up at him. Rossi knows that you’ve ignored all of Hotch’s calls and had no plans on talking about this with him during the case. Rossi is trying to force your hand, or rather Aaron’s. You made yourself very clear last Friday.
“Noted.” He says cooly, “Now, if we’re done here-”
“We’re done.” He settles back easily with a smile.
Aaron gave him a look that was far from kind, “Wheels up in thirty.”
-
The jet was too quiet. The usual rhythm was off, no easy banter or teasing. None of the typical energy the team brings to each other that helps lighten the dark cases you usually face. You sit by the window, the file open but you have to fight to focus on each word. Hotch sits by himself towards the front of the plane.
Hotch holds onto his file with an iron grip, but his gaze is out the window. This is exactly what he’d tried to avoid. The entire team was feeling a fracture in team dynamic because of him.
The first day on the ground didn’t turn up much. Three different fields used as dump sites with symbols carved into old wood that didn’t quite make a pattern. Mutilated animal remains with each of the human remains.
Reid theorized ritual escalation. Rossi suggested an intense need for control and strong staging. You knew the unsub would be sharp, insightful, and detached. Ready to kill on sight.
Day two was worse. A new body was discovered, or at least what was left of one. JJ had to step away for a minute and you honestly wish you had joined her. Hotch steps up behind you.
“What do you see?” He asks carefully.
“Precision.” You reply evenly, “He’s not rushing. He’s comfortable and he’s got the time with them to do this.”
A beat.
“He thinks no one is going to stop him.” You add.
Hotch finally looks at you directly, “We will.”
You nod once, still not looking at him.
Day three, everything broke open. Garcia called the team just after noon.
“I found something,” Her voice tight, “The property records. I used the parameters you guys gave me looking through abandoned farmland just outside of the kill zone. There’s a spot of overlap between all of the dumpsites.”
Hotch was already moving, everyone else jumping up as well.
“Send the coordinates.”
“Already did.” She continues, “Uh, guys? The satellite image shows a structure.”
“A house?” JJ asks.
“Worse, a barn.”
The closer you got, the worse the smell became. It was heavy and rotting and sadly because of visiting all of the other dumpsites, it was now familiar.
“Stay sharp.” Hotch orders, the team fans out. Everyone surrounds the barn and Hotch gestures for everyone to circle the barn to get the back door covered as well before entering. You go down one side while Derek takes the other. You’re nearly around to the other side when your ankle gets snatched from underneath you. You hit the ground, hard.
You feel a large hand wrapped around your ankle. You look down to see a tall big man, he pulls you down a small set of stairs that are covered in old leaves and dirt. It looks like he’s pulling you down to the basement of the barn. You reach behind you trying to hold onto anything, your gun gone somewhere when he dropped you.
“Let go!” You kick hard enough to force him to let go.
Before you can stand fully he slams you hard into a wooden beam, the impact rattling you. He was big, and a hell of a lot stronger than you expected. You drive your elbow into his ribs, and then again, forcing a grunt out of him.
But he doesn’t stop, he only slows for a moment. He swings and you duck, he barely connects with your shoulder but it’s enough to send you stumbling. He lunges toward you and you manage to connect your fist with his jaw with your weight behind it. He stops all together, spitting blood on the ground.
“Bitch.”
“Hotch!” You scream, wherever the team is, it hopefully is still within earshot. You’re under exactly where they should be looking.
The man slams you into a wall again, but this time his hand grips your throat. Your ribs ache and your lungs start to scream. You reach out with everything you have to claw at the man. His grip remains steady and he tries to stay just out of reach.
A shot rings out, deafening in the small space.
The hand on your throat lessens, and the man in front of you drops to the ground. You’re close after, fighting to pull air back into your lungs on your hands and knees. Aaron is at your side in an instant, a hand on your back and the other on your face. He forces you to focus on him.
“Breathe.”
“I’m okay-”
“Y/n.” He warns.
You honestly shouldn’t have even tried that.
A few more moments pass, your breathing slowly returning closer to normal. The unsub still lays motionless on the floor a few feet away. You’re vaguely aware that Morgan is down here too, he stands in the doorway with his flashlight to illuminate the pit of a room you’ve been dragged into.
“Call an ambulance.” Hotch calls over his shoulder.
“No,” Your head snaps over to Morgan, “I’m fine!”
“You’re hurt.” Hotch demands, “Where?”
“My throat and ribs, but I can wait to be treated when we get back to town.”
Hotch makes a face that is clear he doesn’t like this idea.
You force yourself up, “Derek, can you give us a second?”
He nods and puts his phone back in his pocket.
With Derek gone, you’re forced to return Aaron’s stare. Concern and fear clear all over his face.
“I’m okay.” You repeat.
“You could’ve been seriously hurt.”
“Well, I wasn’t.” You shrug, “I’ve been worse off than this. You know it.”
“What if I didn’t come down here? What if I didn’t hear you?”
“I don’t know!” You shout back, “We’ll never know because you were. That’s the job, we’re a team. We rely on each other.”
Something in him broke.
“Don’t act like that didn’t just happen,” he shakes his head, “I thought I lost you.”
Your breath catches.
“I thought I was too late.”
You stare back, softer now “You weren’t.”
“No, but I could’ve been.”
You let the moment pass, you don’t really know what you can say to that.
“I was wrong.” He admits.
“About what?”
“Everything.” He clears his throat, “I never should’ve denied it, I never should have told you it wasn’t real. It wasn’t the truth.”
You still at the confession.
“I care about you,” he continues, “More than I should. More than what is appropriate, and I tried to bury it. I thought it would protect you and the team, but all I did was hurt you.”
Morgan is at the top of the stairs, pretending he can’t still hear everything. He sees the ambulance pull up, thankfully no sirens so you won’t know he called anyway.
“So all it took was a near death experience for you to say how you feel? Suddenly we’re doing emotional honesty?”
He doesn’t argue or deflect.
“I was wrong.” he repeats.
You blink, expecting more pushback or excuses. You study him for a second, waiting for the rest that never comes.
“Okay…” You say slowly.
You suddenly smirk, “So you really went with ‘she’s still single to me’ that was your big move?”
His jaw tightens while you laugh and immediately wince clutching your rib. Hotch is on you in an instant.
“That didn’t go how I wanted it to.” He admits.
“Oh no please,” you gesture, “Explain it to me, I’d love to hear the professional breakdown on that one.”
There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, you can’t tell if it’s annoyance or amusement. You hope it's the latter.
“Not my finest moment,” He laughs dryly, “Somehow I always screw it up with you when I’m trying the hardest.”
“A tragedy.” You bite.
“Tell me about it.”
You snort and he gives you a rare smile.
“We’re not done talking about this.” You point at him, “I’m gonna make you work for it.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Okay.” You pause, “You’re being really sweet, but can we get the fuck out of here?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
The jet was completely different on the flight back. The case was closed and the unsub was dead. The small town would sleep better tonight than they had in weeks.
Everyone settled into seats, everyone noticing Hotch take the seat next to yours.
Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Rossi leans back with a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”
The jet took off and it was maybe thirty seconds before anyone said anything.
“So,” Emily starts, “are you two okay now, or?”
“Emily.” JJ warms.
“What? She’s asking a valid question.” Morgan defends.
You don’t even look up, “We’re working on it.”
“Mm,” Garcia hums on speaker, “That sounds promising.”
Hotch kept glancing at you, unable to stop noticing small things. He was not subtle in his gaze. After a minute, you lean your head back against the seat and look over at him.
“If you look at me like that one more time, I’m going to assume you think I’m concussed.”
His eyes shine warmly, “You might be.”
“Oh my god,” You roll your eyes, “I take it back, I preferred when you were emotionally repressed.”
A couple quiet laughs ripple across the cabin and you get your second smile from Hotch today. He reaches into his bag and pulls out your prescription, turns out they’ll give you hell of a drug if you go hand to hand with a human tank.
“You were slammed into a wall.” He reminds, shaking the bottle in front of you.
“Twice.” You stick your tongue out for good measure, taking the meds from him.
Across the cabin, the rest of the team is watching every movement. The way Hotch’s arm wraps around your shoulder carefully so you can lean against him. The conversation between you two has turned to whispers they can’t hear.
“They’re gonna be unbearable.” Emily shakes her head.
“He’ll keep it professional.” Rossi defends.
Morgan smirks, “And she’s going to make it impossible.”
JJ just smiles looking over at you both again.
“Yeah, I think they’ll figure it out.”
an// awe what a lil cutie!
of course, please let me know what you think!
summary: The BAU team is being sent to catch an unsub going after couples with age-gap relationships. How are things going to go when you have to go undercover with your boss in order to catch him?
word count: 7 K 🌵
-
“Alright,” Hotch’s voice evenly said, “Let’s go over what we know.”
Garcia clicks the remote. Four crime scene photos take over the screen. The team breaks their gaze on their files in front of them to look. Same town. Similar neighborhoods. Same brutality.
You take a long sip of your coffee. Trying anything to get your brain caught up with the team. You’ve been a part of the team for nearly nine-months, the newest and youngest addition. You thrive under the pressure, but seeing pictures like this at this hour of morning is something you hope to never get used to. You’ve gotten comfortable with the team at this point, facing countless horrors together is impossible not to bond someone. Except for Hotch. All frowns and corrections on the surface. You do a lot of things to make him frown. Some of the team had taller walls than others. Hotch being one of them. You tease him, but cling to the fact that his dark eyes follow you. Watch you when he thinks you won’t see. You can always feel it.
“All victims are couples,” Garcia looks over the group, ducking away from the images, “All of the attacks occurred in the Coyote Springs just outside Flagstaff, Arizona. All within a gated subdivision, heavy neighborhood watch presence, but it’s a large neighborhood. There’s nearly 6,000 residents in the community.”
“Woah, big neighborhood.” Emily sighs, looking back to the file.
Reid clears his throat, “The murders span six weeks. Each murder escalates in violence, but consistent within method. This suggests the unsub is a local. Or at least familiar with the area.”
“Not a drifter,” Morgan adds, “He knows their routines. Knows who belongs.”
Your gaze sharpens, “Which means he’s comfortable there.”
Hotch nods without looking up to acknowledge you, “And patient.”
Reid leans forward to add more, “There’s another commonality. Every couple has a significant age gap.”
“Yeah,” JJ agrees, “All of these women are at least fifteen years younger than their husbands.”
“That’s not a coincidence,” Prentiss confirms, “That’s motive.”
You speak without hesitation, “Resentment.”
Rossi turns to you, “Elaborate.”
“When I was working in hostage negotiation,” Your voice calm, “large age gaps in relationships came from extremist ideology and vigilante thinking. They see themselves as a moral authority. He isn’t killing these couples, he’s correcting something he sees as wrong.”
All eyes on you. Your eyes dart to Hotch.
“Theft of youth.”
Reid’s eyes light up, “A savior complex. He may believe he’s actually rescuing the younger woman from-”
“-a perceived predator,” Rossi finishes.
“Which makes Coyote Springs his hunting ground. His own aquarium. Everyone inside thinks they’re safe.” Emily continues.
“Yeah,” Morgan agrees, “This guy thrives on control. You flood the neighborhood with badges, he disappears.”
Prentiss tilts her head, “Unless he comes to us.”
You feel the shift before anyone could actually say it. Her eyes darting to you. Then Hotch.
Rossi’s eyes flick between you two now, “You’re thinking bait.”
It didn’t go over anyone’s heads that you and Hotch have a scarily similar age gap as the victims. Beautiful. Active. The perfect setup.
“I’m thinking opportunity.” Emily corrects, “Two people who could fit the pattern. A new couple moves in quietly. Lets the unsub think something perfect fell in his lap.”
“No.”
Hotch’s answer immediate.
You blink. Then laugh. “Wow, look at us already on the same page.”
His eyes turn to you now, sharp and warning, “This is not a game.”
“Never said it was,” You reply lightly, “I’m just agreeing that maybe the two of us playing house isn’t the best play.”
JJ steps in, “If the unsub is watching, he’s choosing couples that look stable. Happy.”
“Yet another reason this wouldn’t work.” You mutter, Rossi elbow in your side tells you he’s the only one that caught the comment.
“Which means?” Garcia questions.
“A married couple, or at least one that presents that way would statistically be the most appealing to draw him out.”
More eyes fall back to you.
You slowly look around, “Oh, absolutely not.”
Hotch doesn’t look at you, “Agreed.”
“You telling me you’re scared, Y/Ln?” Morgan grins.
You look him dead in the eye, “I’m telling you I’m smart enough to know that Hotch and I can’t sell married and in love.”
“Well,” Rossi turns his gaze over to the rest of the group, “Are there any other alternatives here on the team?”
The group looks around at each other. You know there aren’t any. You don’t need to look around to know that most of them are too close in age to raise that kind of brow.
“I can’t believe this.” You shake your head with a humorless laugh.
Hotch’s jaw tightens, “He’s looking for a performance.”
The rest of the room quiets at his words. You’d be ashamed to admit to the warmth pooling at the dark look on his eyes. This shouldn’t be able to work.
“Look, you’re both qualified.” Emily claps, “It wouldn’t be your first time going undercover.”
“I mean no offense by it, but Y/Ln is the perfect trophy wife bait.” Morgan holds up his hands in self defense.
“Somehow I’m still offended.”
Rossi raises a brow to you and Hotch, “The unsub is escalating. If we miss him again, someone else dies. This isn’t about what’s comfortable. It’s about leverage.”
Hotch pinches the bridge of his nose. Silence stretches while everyone tries to come up with an alternative.
“So maybe it is the best play.” You sigh, coming to the same conclusion as the rest of the team. Your hand slides to cover your face with a groan.
“For what it’s worth, this is like so hot.” Garcia bites the end of her pen looking at you both, “So hot.”
“Babygirl.” Morgan sighs with the shake of his head.
“You’re enjoying this way too much, Pen.” You warn with a smile that is anything but friendly.
“Immensly.” She continues to beam.
A long pause.
Finally Hotch exhales, “If we do this-”
He pauses to read your face. You aren’t supposed to profile each other, but you can see he’s looking to see if you’re truly comfortable. If you can do this. You know you can. You give him a subtle nod.
“-we do everything by the book.” He continues, “Full surveillance. Backup within minutes. No unnecessary risks.”
You suddenly smirk, “You’re gonna hate every second of this.”
“Yes,” He said flatly.
You grin wider, “Then I’m in.”
He looks at you. Really looks.
“Wheels up in two hours. We prep covers immediately.”
Garcia squeals. Prentiss smirks at you. Morgan claps once.
This is going to get complicated.
-
The jet's familiar hum rings over them lowly. You’re curled sideways in your chair, Emily to your right. Hotch directly across from you, Rossi to his left. A table separating you both. Morgan was making calls to get a stakeout van for the rest of the team. They wouldn’t be the only eyes on you two while undercover, but they would be most watchful.
“Alright,” You smile, “Let’s build our beautiful lie.”
Hotch’s eyes dart to yours over his file, “We already have preliminary covers.”
“Preliminary is not convincing.” You reply, turning to Emily for help.
“She’s right.” She shrugs, “Especially since we know this unsub is watching his victims.”
He doesn’t argue, he simply sets down his file on the table.
“Progress.” You bite your cheek.
“Aaron Hayes. Attorney. Corporate litigation.”
“Third marriage,” You add with cheer, “Which no offence, you can sell.”
His mouth tightens, “It’s realistic considering the previous victims.”
“And it adds baggage.” You continue, “Baggage is realistic. That’s what he’ll like.”
Rossi raises his brows, “What about you?”
“Y/n Hayes.” You quickly reach out a hand to shake his with a pearly smile plastered to your face, “Twenty-six. Former marketing assistant. Now… professionally vague.”
“Trophy wife.” Hotch said flatly.
You beam, “Exactly.”
His eyes study you, “You’re sure you’re comfortable with this?”
“Hotch, you’ve seen me pretend to be sympathetic to truly terrible people. Being hot and underestimated is a vacation.”
He exhales quietly.
“I want to add something else.”
He looks back up.
“Power.”
He frowns, “Explain.”
“You’re already older. Already established. Already married multiple times, but I think we lean into it harder.” You lean back in your chair, “Make you a professor. Law school. Ethics. Authority.”
He immediately stiffens, “That’s unnecessary.”
“Is it?” You tilt your head, “Our unsub in punishing perceived imbalance. We don’t know how long he watches his victims, he may have already picked his next couple. But if we tip the scale? Give him something that makes his skin crawl.”
The jet goes silent as it’s clear he is contemplating your idea.
“A professor implies mentorship. Influence.”
“And the implication that I was dazzled,” You add lightly, “By your mind. Your status. Your power.”
The silence stretches back over the jet.
“That makes you uncomfortable.” You observe.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, again, “It complicates the dynamic.”
“That’s the point.”
He stares for a long moment, “Fine.”
You grin, “Great! So, how did we meet?”
“A conference.”
“Boring. Try again.”
He sighs, “Guest lecture. You were assisting with event coordination.”
“Ooh, I love that!” You agree, “I spilled coffee on you.”
“You did not.”
“I absolutely did. You were very patient about it. Very kind. I thought you were intimidating.”
Hotch’s lips twitch into a smile for a split second before he could correct it . For a split second, you saw it.
“And then,” You continue, “you asked me to dinner. Which I declined. Twice.”
“Why twice?”
“Because it makes you chase.” You answer obviously, “And because neighbors love that kind of story.”
Hotch closes his file, “You’ve done this before.”
“Something tells me you really didn’t look at my resume all the times Straus sent it back when I was brought on.”
Rossi leans in closer to Hotch, “She did this for a year for the FBI. It was prior to the hostage negotiation.”
You watch the realization and curiosity pass over his face. He hadn’t looked into you much at all. There wasn’t much desire after Straus insisted upon you.
The jet began to descend shortly after that. By the time you guys touchdown, the local office had coordinated everything. A house at the end of a cul-de-sac in the middle of Coyote Springs. Clean title. Plausible history. A U-Haul full of furniture staged to look like it was from a loving family.
As soon as you both stepped onto the tarmac, you slid your hand into Hotch’s. Walking over to the small public airport rather than the waiting black SUVs with the rest of the team. Hotch froze for a half second.
“Breathe. Like you like me.”
“I don’t-”
“In character.” You correct yourself, “It's game on.”
Realistically the unsub could be anyone. Which is why they weren’t afforded with the luxury of riding with the rest of the team. The show has begun.
You keep your posture relaxed, smiling brightly. By the time Hotch parks the U-Haul in the driveway, three neighbors were already watching from their front porches.
“Showtime.” You give Hotch one last smile before hopping out of the truck.
You make your way around to his side, wrapping both arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You look at the house in front of you both. He stiffened again, then recovered. He slips an arm around your shoulders.
“There you go.” You whisper, “Professor Hayes.”
He glances down at you, “You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.” You tease.
They began unloading the truck under several curious eyes. You laugh loudly at his dry comments. Leaning into him. Stolen touches and passes. Selling the lie with ease.
“Newlyweds?” A voice calls out.
You turn to see a woman from two houses down. You answer without skipping a beat, “Six months!”
Hotch blinks, looking back down at you.
You tip your head forward before Hotch can flinch. Ripping off the bandaid. You knew he would tense if you didn’t catch him off guard. He’s still trying to protect you. You can feel the hesitation. Your lips are soft on his. Convincing. He relaxes into it.
When you pull back, the woman waves before heading inside. You look at Hotch, his eyes still on you.
“Relax.” You place a hand on his chest, “You’re doing great.”
His voice is low, “You don’t hesitate.”
You pull him down for a hug, whispering in his ear, “Neither does our unsub. We can’t afford to.”
You press another kiss to his cheek, grabbing another box out of the back of the truck and hauling it inside. Hotch stood for another second before grabbing something himself. He was beginning to have the feeling that this cover was going to test more than just his professionalism.
-
The surveillance van arrives a couple hours after they had returned the U-Haul. It pulls into their corner of Coyote Springs under the guise of a local internet provider. Uniforms are convincing, and plenty of equipment inside.
Garcia is already online and active before Morgan can put it in park. The cameras in the house are connected now. Her screens fill with all different angles. Street coverage. Door sensors. Motion alerts.
She hums in their earpieces, “For the record, the neighbors clocked you as ‘very affectionate’ within twelve minutes of you pulling in the driveway. Linda from two doors down texted her sister Sharon about you.”
You arch your brow, “What’d she say?”
You can practically hear Garcia’s grin, “Quote ‘The new wife is gorgeous and very young. He’s either lucky or stupid'."
”I’ll take it.” You hold up your mug of coffee in mock salute.
Word spreads fast in this neighborhood.
The team backs off for a while, letting them get settled together. Leaving you in a house that grows quieter and quieter. Heavier.
You open the fridge and take a peek inside, “We should establish routines.” you say, practical as ever, “Food. Morning patterns. Something that feels lived in.”
Hotch nods, “I’ll take mornings. Coffee. The paper.”
“I don’t do early.” You decide immediately, “But I’ll fake it if I have to.”
He glances at you, something like amusement flashing across his face before he hides it. “Noted.”
“I can handle dinner.” You decide, “What kind of trophy would I be without something warm on the table for you?”
You make a face at him that reveals your true feelings about that role you're playing. You still need to establish how much the mask stays on inside. You know the unsub was watching his victims, but not how. You start pulling ingredients and getting things ready on the stove.
“I can help.” He gets up from the counter, eager to wipe the sour look from your face.
“Respectfully, you moved us in today. You should shower.”
The way your grin lights up your face, turning back to the stove top without a care in the world, makes Hotch freeze. His heart skips a full beat. It already feels so domestic. You catch it and turn back, taking a half step closer to him.
“Don’t forget, I’m your hot twenty-six year old wife. Act like it.” You press a kiss to his cheek before he can protest. Now you actually focus on the stove, eventually hearing his steps take him away from the room.
By the time Hotch is done with his needed shower, he can smell the food coming from downstairs. Spaghetti. He’s impressed that you’ve even set the table. Creating the fantasy. Creating his illusion. You set down his plate at the end of the table, and you take the seat closest to his on the right.
“If we’re too distant we stand out, and now that we’re here-” Hotch clears his throat, “You’re right. I need to act like it. At any point now the unsub could be watching us.”
He smiles as if he hadn’t said something so horrifying. The place had already been swept for bugs, and now they had eyes on them. Now they would have to wait and see if the unsub was watching them too.
“I’m glad you’re officially on board.” You grin, placing your hand in his.
You guys both practically drag your feet cleaning up from dinner. Avoiding the bedroom. The last line to cross.
The room has been staged well, it’s a pretty room. A large bed right in the middle of it. Hotch pauses just behind you in the doorway, “We can take turns on the couch.”
You shake your head immediately, “No. Couples like us don’t do that.”
He exhales slowly, “Understood.”
You leave him in the bathroom and take your bag to the bathroom. You change quickly and then open the door back up while you take off your makeup and brush your teeth. After spitting in the sink, you look up in the mirror to see Aaron walking in. He’s changed into long pajama pants and a black t-shirt.
You were hoping if you were fast enough, Hotch would be in bed with the lights off by the time you came out. You blush when you notice him taking in your cover wardrobe. You’re supposed to be a young hot wife, that means little for the pajama department.
He begins brushing his teeth while you do your skincare. The silence stretching painfully rather than peacefully is the only clue that this isn’t real.
You’re nearly done by the time Hotch leaves and heads back to the bedroom. You follow after turning off the lights and pull back the covers. Total darkness and silence.
You lie on your back, your hands folded over your stomach, “Night, Hotch.”
“Goodnight.”
Neither of you sleep very well. He stares at the opposite wall. Plagued by listening to your soft breaths while you sleep. Morning comes too fast. He’s already up by the time your eyelids pull open.
You pad into the kitchen to see a pot of coffee on, Hotch manning the stove. He still has on his pajamas, his hair disheveled from sleep. You’re surprised he didn’t fix it first thing. But, this isn’t really him.
“Morning, professor.” Your voice lazy from sleep.
He freezes for half a second.
Then recovers, “Sleep well?”
You smile, taking steps closer to him. He reaches out an arm to wrap around your shoulders. The food smells good.
“Like a dream.” You lie. He knows.
You wrap your arms around his waist while you both sway together. You’d be ashamed to admit it once you were more awake, but you lean your weight against him to support.
By noon, you’re laying out by the pool. The bikini is not subtle. It isn’t meant to be.
Garcia groans over the comms you can all hear again, “This seems deeply unfair.”
“Tell me about it.” Emily whined.
Hotch watches from inside, his jaw tight, posture rigid. He knows exactly what you are doing and why it works. He’s almost alarmed at the pace you could set for the unsub.
Neighbors slow as they pass.
A man across the street checks his mail. Twice.
You don’t look at any of them. You keep your sunglasses on, body relaxed and unconcerned.
It’s bait.
And it’s effective.
Hotch’s eyes finally snap up from your figure when he sees someone approach the fence. A woman smiling brightly and waving you over. You get up from your lounge chair and walk over to her.
“Hi! I’m Linda. We’re having a block party on Friday, and I thought we’d invite the new couple!”
You smile, all warmth and charm, “Isn’t that sweet!”
Hotch steps out the back patio door and walks over to join you. His arm wraps around your lower back so his hand can find home on your hip. Linda notices. Everyone does.
“Aaron.” He extends his other hand to shake Linda’s.
It’s clear Linda is trying to hide her gaze on their PDA. She stutters out the time while focusing on your hand placed on Hotch’s warm chest. The rock the FBI provided glimmering brightly on your ring finger. The sun continues to beat down, Hotch very aware of how you’re all skin right now. He’s only touching bare skin. He vaguely hears you ask if you should bring anything. He misses the response.
“Lovely.” She waves, “We’ll see you then!”
Linda walks away, you wave goodbye as she walks back to her house.
“So, that's what it takes to get you to come outside?” You turn, Hotch’s hold still on you, “Linda?”
“What-”
“I mean, I’ve been out here for how long, Garcia?”
His hand tightens again, not expecting you to circle the team back in. He forgot their eyes and ears are on everything.
“Forty-five minutes.” She answers.
“Disappointing.” You whisper, it fans over his face.
“I’ll work on it.”
He leans down before you can pull another stunt, he presses a kiss to your brow.
-
Later Emily and Morgan come over under the guise of friends bringing a housewarming gift. They welcome them both in and accept the wine with hugs. They gather together in the kitchen, everyone’s face all smiles but Emily’s tone tells another story.
“I think we’ve got to work on being what the unsub is looking for.” She reminds, “You both need to work on being closer. Physically.”
Morgan nods, “She’s right. The profile says entitlement. Ownership. A guy who thinks he’s won.”
“You don’t protect, Y/n. You flaunt her.”
Hotch’s jaw tightens, “That’s not-”
“That’s the role,” She cuts in, “A man who would absolutely brag about locking down another wife half the age of the last one.”
Emily is exaggerating obviously, but she makes her point clear.
“I’m good, Hotch.” You smile, wrapping your hand around his arm and pulling him closer, “I’m not fragile.”
He exhales slowly. Once. Controlled.
“Understood.”
The shift is nearly immediate. You can feel it. He changes how he stands. How close he is. How his hand settles on your waist when you pass him in the kitchen. Unapologetic.
An arm draped over her shoulder as they sit on the front porch enjoying the summer night, the sky beginning to darken. Morgan and Emily left a little bit ago, leaving them alone again. This time you claim each other's space.
A neighbor you haven’t met jogs by on a late run, waving to them as she passes. Linda’s husband takes out the trash, putting it at the end of their driveway. A group of kids pass through on their bikes, loud yells and laughter.
Lots of activity in this neighborhood. Lots of eyes. You and Hotch are putting yourselves in full view.
“You good?” You ask quietly.
“Yes,” He answers, “Are you?”
You study him, “I’ve played worse roles than this.”
His mouth tightens, “That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No, but it gets the job done.”
You reach up to card your hands through his hair. Running along the side, pushing it back.
“Uhh, guys?” Garcia chimes in the earpiece. You both keep faces neutral.
“One of the exterior cameras just changed angles.”
You still. Hotch does too. You’re not sure you would be able to tell if you weren’t practically in his lap right now.
Inside the van, Rossi leans closer to the screen. “Did we do that?”
Garcia typing away furiously.
“No. And the system didn’t flag it either.”
Emily frowns, “Can someone access it remotely?”
Garcia hesitates before answering.
“If they had administration credentials they would have remote access.”
“So, the unsub is watching right now?” You ask, eyes still on Aaron.
“I would assume so since he adjusted the exterior to include you both in frame.”
“Let’s give him a show.”
You want to pull Aaron to you, but you know he needs to push this. He is the pursuer. Your hand is still in his hair when he leans down to connect your lips again. You don’t give him the chance to cut it short, leaning into him.
He opens his mouth wider to deepen the kiss, you sit up against him. Throwing one leg over his lap, practically indecent for the front yard.
“Take me to bed.” Your words are pressed against his lips.
Hotch stiffens under you for a second. His eyes wide, before you give a small nod. He picks you up from his lap, carrying you into the house. You let him set you down and pull him up the stairs by the collar of his shirt. Still full of smiles and teasing. Aaron corners you against a wall in the hallway, pressing hot kisses down your neck.
You push back from him, taking his hand and pulling him into the bedroom and shut the door. The second the door shuts, you both let go, but are still out of breath. Hotch paces a few feet away from you. The bedroom is one of the few places they didn’t put a camera.
“Garcia, did any other angles in the house change? Any interior cameras?” Your voice sounds a lot more calm and clear than you feel.
“Um,” She clears her throat, obviously still reeling from everything she just witnessed. “Uh-I-uh it looks like he has. The hallway is angled more in the bedroom than it was when it was installed. I think I can see if he’s watching.”
There’s a long pause while she works before she comes back on, “Wait, yes! He’s online. He’s still active on the hall camera. I’m guessing he’s waiting for the afterparty.”
Emily nods, “He’s watching for something. He wants to know if they fit his needs.”
Inside, the performance continues. You mess up your hair, Hotch’s to be fair already was. You change out of the clothes you had on before and opt for just one of Aaron’s law t-shirts. It feels right. Puts a little pressure on that authority insecurity.
“Is he still watching?” You ask Garcia.
“Mhm.”
You open the door and casually skip down the stairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You're still flushed from the couch make out. Didn't have to fake that.
“Babygirl, you’re a genius.” Morgan claps.
It only needs to give the illusion they need. Just enough to piss him off.
-
You made brownies for the block party. Aaron had to run out to the store, leaving an opening for the unsub to approach as well. They don’t know his true patterns and if he’s confident enough to approach them both at once.
All morning there is activity out in the street. People are setting up tables, music, and food. It looks like they don’t do anything small here in Coyote Springs. You picked out the perfect summer sun dress, and curled your hair and leaving it down simply. It’s short enough to put your legs on display.
“Safe choice,” Hotch nods, looking at the tray covered in foil.
Safe to comment on the food, not the dress.
You smile up at him, “People trust baked goods.”
He opens the door for you both to walk out, and it’s already full. The party is already in full swing. People everywhere. Children running around. The smell of the grill takes over.
Too many faces.
You immediately feel your posture sag a little trying to keep track of everyone’s expressions while walking through. You keep one hand on the tray and the other curled possessively around Aaron’s bicep. You let him guide you around, introducing yourselves.
He leans down to press the occasional kiss to your lips, temple, brow. Anything to hear your low laugh. You both look inseparable.
From the street, it’s enviable.
From the cameras, he’s raging.
“We’ve got a lot of eyes.” Garcia says into the earpiece.
JJ watches over the crowd, “He’s here. He wouldn’t pass up this opportunity.”
You move slowly. Deliberately. Introductions begin to blur. Retirees, young families, couples who’ve lived here twenty years. Kids continue to race around playing. Teens hang back in groups, too cool to really participate. You laugh easily, leaning into Hotch. You even let him speak over you once or twice.
You both stop near Linda, who is holding court beside the grill and a whole table of food.
“Oh! You made it,” Linda says brightly. “And you brought something.”
“Brownies,” You smile. “I hope that’s okay.”
Linda takes the tray. “Oh, people will love you.”
Her gaze flicks to Hotch. “You’re a lucky man.”
Hotch smiles wide, proud, exactly the wrong way.
“I know,” he says. “I really do.”
The reaction is instant. Not from Linda.
From just behind her.
A boy, sixteen maybe seventeen goes still.
Too still.
You can feel pressure between your shoulder blades. Hotch squeezes your hand, he saw it too.
“Oh, where are my manners!” Linda sighs, “Meet my family. This is my husband Bill, and my son Matthew.”
She then turns where the other boy still watches.
“And this is my sister Sharon and her son Toby. They live just a couple streets down.”
Toby is tall, a little lanky. He wears a black hoodie despite the heat. He stands half in the shadow of a tree, his eyes won’t meet yours. Instead they’re on Hotch. Specifically where his hand is glued to your hip possessively. You shift closer and his grip bruises, Toby’s jaw tightens.
You turn to speak over Aaron’s shoulder so they won’t notice what you ask Garcia.
“Garcia, what do we know on Sharon and her son?”
There’s a pause. You turn back your attention to Linda and Sharon, waiting for her chipper voice to come on the earpiece.
“Let me see what I can find!” She eagerly begins typing. They had to move the surveillance van a couple streets down for the block party. It would be curious for them to be parked there with all the homeowners having a party together.
You keep smiling and turn your attention to Sharon and her son who hovers behind.
“So, how long have you guys lived here?”
“All of his life.” Sharon answers, smiling softly at him.
“Must be hard,” You reply gently, “watching things change. New people are moving in, although I hope we’re welcomed!”
Everyone laughs at your comment, except for Toby. His gaze has yet to leave Hotch’s touch.
Sharp. Hurt. Furious.
Hotch squeezes a warning.
His eyes flick up to your face for the first time.
You excuse yourself from the group to refill both of your drinks. When you return, you immediately slide onto Hotch’s lap. You dive back into conversation totally unphased, but in your peripheral you can see Toby’s hands clenching.
Hotch makes sure to brag about his job, about you, about how good his life is now. Toby is locked in with his full attention. Every laugh from you is a needle. Every kiss gasoline. Building.
“I’ve got something juicy,” Garcia jumps back in, “Sharon was just divorced from Toby’s father last March. They had been married for twenty-two years, but he moved out and left. And then six weeks ago it looks like he was re-married.”
“Right when the killings started.” Emily reminds.
“It get better-or worse, I don’t know which is-what way it-”
“Garcia.”
“He has been teaching the girls college soccer team almost as long as they were married. His new wife? She just graduated from the team last year. Can you spell slimy?”
Garcia gags over the earpiece nearly making you wince and yank it out of your ear.
“She’s twenty-four, he’s fourty-nine.”
Bingo.
You turn to look over Hotch’s shoulder to see Toby’s expression, only to find him missing. Linda’s son is gone now too.
“Does anyone have eyes on him?”
No answer.
You both thank people as you’re saying goodbye. Smiles. Keep the act flawless.
The house feels wrong the second your foot crosses the threshold. Hotch’s hand moves instinctively toward his weapon and stops. Static takes over the earpiece.
-
Back in the surveillance van, the team waits anxiously. Re-watching footage to see if they can spot him disappearing. Eerie silence from the couple undercover. Garcia watches the door shut and suddenly the screens turn to pixels, static playing over the speakers.
“What the hell is that?” Morgan yells.
“I don’t know! Something is blocking the signal.” Garcia types furiously.
“We’ve got to go in now.” Morgan grabs his vest and his gun.
“If he’s not with them, this will blow their cover. We’ll scare him away.” Rossi adds.
“It won’t matter if they’re dead. Toby is the unsub, I’m sure of it.”
-
Toby is standing in the living room, holding a gun he shouldn’t know how to handle. And it’s aimed right at you both. His hands are shaking. Your hand tightens around Aaron’s arm.
“Shut the door!” He yells, you both slowly step the rest of the way into the house and shut the door.
His face is pale, eyes wide, and breathing way too fast.
He raises the gun closer to them, “Upstairs. Now.”
Hotch manages to keep himself placed between you and the gun as he follows you both to the bedroom. Every step is deliberate, intentionally trying to put you in the least amount of harm.
“On your knees.”
Neither of them hesitates. Neither of you tries to reach for your weapon. Yet.
Hotch’s shoulders brush with yours. Toby paces in front of you, waving the gun wildly in their direction the entire time.
“You think you’re better than everyone!” He yells, “You think it’s okay to take whatever you want.”
You tilt your head slightly, “What did he take from you?”
You try to remind that Hotch is not his father, although with the anger in his eyes you’re not sure he can tell. His pacing stutters.
“You watch people like us?” You continue, “You think you’re correcting something?”
“Correcting what he’s taking!” He jabs the gun at Hotch’s chest. You feel the air get knocked out of your lungs.
“Correcting my theft of youth?”
Your words from the beginning of the case now echo with Hotch’s voice. Toby freezes.
“That’s what he did,” Toby’s voice growing hoarse, “He took her youth. He took our family and replaced it with something younger. Easier.”
Hotch swallows when Toby turns his focus onto you. He lets the barrel of the gun slide across your collarbone.
“It’s despicable. This is the same thing.” He gestures between you two.
You hold his gaze, “I chose him. He didn’t take anything from me.”
Your voice softens, “And I don’t regret it.”
The truth in your voice is unmistakable. Hotch feels it like a shockwave. An earthquake.
“You don’t want to kill us.” You voice gentle, calming the room, “You want someone to admit what happened to you was wrong. That it was fucked up.”
Toby’s hands shake more, his eyes fill.
“He didn’t even talk to me about it. He just moved out.”
You nod, “Don’t you want it to stop hurting?”
His head bobs.
“Then put the gun down.”
He hesitates.
Hotch keeps his voice low and steady. Using his dad voice, “You’re not a monster. You’re a kid that got left behind.”
The gun lowers. Just enough. You reach forward and take the gun from his grasp and pass it back to Hotch immediately. You kneel beside him while he cries. Morgan breaks through the door, armed and ready.
“It’s okay, we’re all safe now.”
Red and blue lights take over the room flashing in from the window. Morgan takes Toby down to the cars to bring him into the station. An ambulance. Police. Statements. Protocols.
-
The team gathers in the living room to discuss everything that just unfolded and establishing a time to meet at the jet.
“Sharon works for CPI Security. That’s how Toby was able to access the homes and the cameras. He was using her devices.” Garcia explains their total blackout on seeing and hearing them. Toby was smarter than they had thought. That’s how he was without a trace. The team gives them a couple looks, quiet comments about their act while they try to wrap things up.
“Enough!” You shout, “I would like to shower and then get on a plane and go home! Is that too much to ask for?”
“No ma’am!”
“We’re going!”
“Okay, okay!”
Rossi leaves to go get one of the SUVS so they can head to the airport. It would be a late night flight home. You and Aaron are left with a few officers downstairs taking pictures and taking statements while you both pack up your belongings.
“Well, I suppose I will have to give this back to evidence.” You sigh, holding up the rock on your ring finger to the light with a chuckle.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll take some getting used to. You’ll feel lighter.”
You roll your eyes, putting your toiletries away, looking at him in the mirror.
Leaning your hip against the counter you look up at him, soft now and unguarded. “You were very convincing. You stepped it up.”
He matches your lean, a step closer.
“You were extraordinary from the beginning.”
The smile on your face shifts into something real, “You used my words back there.”
“I know.” He says, “I know what they mean to you.”
A beat passes. You swallow, his eyes follow down your throat. One he has kissed numerous times now.
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
You shake your head without hesitation, “Not even a little.”
Hotch reaches out, slowly. Deliberate. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is warm. Bare. Uncharacteristically gentle.
“Neither do I.”
-
The jet hums as it cuts through the dark sky. Hotch sits at the table with a file open in front of him that he is definitely not reading. You took the same seat across from him as usual. Emily and Rossi join the table, Morgan and Garcia sit on the couch facing them with wide grins.
For the first six minutes of the flight, no one says a thing.
“So,” Morgan starts far too casually, “We gonna talk about the kissing, or are we pretending none of that ever happened?”
You close your eyes.
Hotch exhales through his nose.
JJ doesn’t even look up from her tablet, “I witnessed at least nine when I was on cams.”
Garcia gasps, “I’ve got so many screenshots-
“Garcia.” Hotch warns.
You groan, “Oh my god.”
Rossi smiles into his coffee, “You know, I’ve been undercover a lot. But I’ve never seen Hotch commit like that.”
Morgan grins, “My boss went from ‘don’t touch me’ to ‘this is my wife, don’t even breathe in her direction’ in twenty-four hours.”
Hotch clears his throat, “Focus.”
“Sir,” Emily smiles, “You grabbed her waist every time someone looked at her for more than two seconds.”
“That was tactical.”
You snort loudly before you can even stop it.
Morgan points immediately, “See! She knew it!”
Garcia’s cuts in, “And can we discuss the wardrobe?”
You straighten in your seat, “Garcia-”
“The bikini,” She barrels on, “The sundress. The backless sundress. The way you were charming everyone and-”
“Garcia!” You say both mortified and laughing.
JJ smiles, “To be fair, it worked. He didn’t stand a chance.”
“Hotch or Toby?” Rossi asks with a jab.
Hotch’s ears turn red.
“Well, technically Y/n is closer in age to Toby than she is to Hotch.” Reid interjects.
“Please, don’t ever remind me of that again.” You shake your head, a sour look on your face.
“I would also not like to be reminded of that.” Hotch agrees.
Rossi raises his brow still looking at Hotch.
“It was part of the profile.” He reminds.
Impossibly so, Rossi’s brow aims higher at Aaron’s answer, “You told three different men you were ‘very lucky’ and ‘not stupid enough to mess this up’.”
Silence.
Your lips twitch with a smile as you look over to him, “You did?”
His jaw tightens, “That… may have come up.”
Morgan outright laughs, “Boss, you were bragging.”
You cover your face with one hand, “I can never show my face in Arizona again.”
“You absolutely can,” Emily disagrees, “You own that cul-de-sac now. Whatever you two were doing, it sold and it worked.”
Reid nods, “Yeah, no notes. Except, next time? I want hazard pay for having to watch all that.”
"Me on the other hand, " Garcia grins wickedly, "I saved it all!"
“You’re welcome, you pervs!”
You toss a harmless handful of plane popcorn at them, rolling your eyes. There’s an unguarded and warm smile on your face that makes Hotch shake his head watching it all unfold.
Hours later it’s early morning on the east coast when they finally land on the tarmac.
“Debrief tomorrow at 9AM.” Hotch says, “Get some rest.”
The team disperses, still chuckling and yawning as they walk to their cars. The cabin is quiet as you lean back in your seat while Hotch packs up his briefcase.
“You think any of them bought it?” You ask, a soft smile on your face. Honest and open.
He flashes you his rare smile. The one usually saved for you and Jack on the weekends.
“Probably not.”
extra of the team finding out here!
an// all too aware of the fact that it’s been almost two years since i’ve written for Hotch, but I am obsessed all over again i fear. i had so much fun writing for him again!
Notes: Some sexy stuff, but nothing too full on in this part. It kind of got away from me, and ended up being much longer than I imagined. So, I have a second part that is basically just smut with a little bit of fluff if anyone wants it. Enjoy!
“JJ: That’s Hotch’s brother? I don’t see it. Hotchner: Sean, listen to me. All I’m saying is that you’re 25 years old. Sean: You know what? Don’t profile me, Aaron! [storms away] JJ: [looking at his butt] Now I see it.”
— Jennifer Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Sean Hotchner. Season 1 Episode 16. Criminal Minds quote of the day.
theartofmadeline
stormborns
izzy806
