With the BAU in trouble, Section Chief Matt Cruz reaches out to someone with a unique background meant to help protect the behavioral analysts from bureaucratic agendas like those belonging to Assistant Director Linda Barnes.
There's just one problem.
She wants nothing to do with the BAU.
Chapter One - Madame Dumont
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I was so close to my goal that I could practically taste it. Months of work and years of preparation had gone into this very night. No one would be able to question me after I walked out of this bar. In a career dominated by men, I would only draw respect.
Men were always suspicious of other men. Women were the panthers crouching in the shadows.
The aim of a college education is to teach you to know a good man when you see one.
William James
One of the Guys: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction
Featuring: Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez Setting: Season 13
Requested: Anonymous
“Can I request a Ralvez fic where Luke wants to introduce Reid to some of his army pals but Reid is nervous because that's a lot of like big buff manly men and he's afraid he won't relate? Or that he'll embarrass Luke? Sorry if this is dumb. Thanks!”
A/N: I finally got it up! I hope you like it....xoxo Stu
It had been some time since Luke had checked in with his Regiment buddies when Johnson sent him an event invite on Facebook for an annual cookout signifying the anniversary of their return from Iraq. Luke Alvez had been neck deep in hunting fugitives and trying to get a falsely accused teammate out of prison during the last two gatherings. This year he was going to be there, he was adamant.
He just needed to breach the subject with his boyfriend of almost a year, the incomparable Dr. Spencer Reid. Since they started dating, they had been open with their teammates at the BAU. Which were essentially, Spencer’s family. Luke was a part of the team, but he hadn’t quite survived the trenches with them like he had his old Army buddies. Wanting Spencer to meet them was natural, but it was bound to bring up a few concerns.
Spencer had finally established a comfortable normal after, well, everything. Moving in with Luke had been on his mind since his mother had entered into a new (local) facility after her doctors had begun working with a new trial for her Alzheimer diagnosis. He was teaching this week and the team was away on a case. The lack of Luke’s comforting presence apparent through out his day. Spencer cleared his desk and stopped by to say goodnight to Garcia.
“I just wanted to check in before I headed home.” Spencer had approached her desk, but Garcia was rapidly flying between monitors.
“Reid!” She grinned. “Remember way back when you were forced to squat in my domain because you had lied about being cleared for field work?”
“It wasn’t a lie.” Spencer muttered.
“Right. Anyway, I could scrounge up another chair if you aren’t busy. It is lonely with my babies gone for so long.”
Spencer watched as the bespectacled blonde pleaded for companionship. He gave her a considering half smile. “How about I run and grab dinner for the two of us?”
“Would you?” Garcia stamped her platformed feet on the ground. “Oh I knew this restriction was going to be good luck!”
“I need to go check on Roxy first though. With traffic it will be over an hour before I am back, an hour and twelve minutes actually.” Spencer clarified.
She waved at him, sending him off to his tasks with a joyful shrug.
On nights when Spencer was on his required office days, Luke slept terribly. He had gotten so used to Spence’s soothing voice lulling him to sleep. The other half of the bed was cold and vast. On the road, he missed Roxy too, her instincts so keen to his every emotion. Luke grabbed an extra pillow and cradled it to his chest, nestling it below his goatee-covered chin. It had been an hour since Emily had sent the team to the hotel for the night, each agent exhausted and frustrated. It has after another thirty minutes of tossing and turning that Luke broke down and called home.
“Can’t sleep?” Spencer’s voice answered on the second ring.
“Uh, yeah, how ‘bout you?” Luke leaned back, resting his free arm behind his head.
“I kept Garcia company for most the night, so now I am going over my lecture for tomorrow.” Spencer explained.
“Didn’t you finish that last week?” Luke asked, amused. “Overachiever.”
“I’ve got to keep busy while the team does or, I, just, - I miss you too much.”
“Miss me? Or the team?” Luke teased. “Probably the unsubs the most though, huh?”
“Stop it, Luke. You know what I meant.” Spencer smirked, closing the folder he had spread open on his lap.
“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you. But I got an invite to a yearly barbecue from one of the guys from my days in the Rangers. It should be just before you’re due back in for field work. Think we can be that queer couple at the semi-redneck gathering?”
Luke held his breath, he tended to make light of uncomfortable situations. He knew Spencer would worry, but he had to put it out there. And sooner was always better than later.
Spencer’s hands were sweating and his voice kept catching in his throat. Luke was picking him up in ten minutes to drive to Johnson’s house for the yearly reunion with Luke’s friends. Spencer had changed his clothing three times. He put on a tie and would take it off. He worried he should have gotten a hair cut, though he hadn’t shaved either. Did it even matter? Spencer walked determinedly away from the mirror and returned not a moment later.
His deep set eyes bore into himself, “You have five bachelor degrees and three phds.” He coached at his reflection. “You have an amazing, devoted, handsome boyfriend that would do anything for you... Even introduce you to his tough army buddies who could snap you in half!” Spencer sat down on the edge of the tub in a thorough pout.
Luke found him in that exact spot five minutes later, zoned out as he walked through possible scenarios for the remainder of the day.
“Hey, Spence, you, uh, you good?” Luke sat down next to him on the cold stone ledge. He wore a simple polo shirt and khakis, Spencer’s heart slowed ten beats per minute by Luke’s sheer presence. Luke slid his hand into Spencer’s left and waited until he was ready. He didn’t worry about the time, he knew Spencer knew exactly how long they had before they became late. Luke didn’t prod, he just sat beside his love as their breathing harmonized.
Finally, Spencer turned and let Luke see the distress in his eyes. Luke leaned forward and rubbed the back of Spencer’s knuckles with his free hand. “Hey, if you don’t want to go with, just say the word. I won’t be upset, I’ll just go alone. And be home before dark.”
“Don’t you think it will be better that way? I mean, I would be quite the odd man out, even if we aren’t the only gay couple in attendance.”
“Spencer, if I didn’t want you to go, I wouldn’t have asked.” Luke tried to be reassuring.
“What if I embarrass you? I can give detailed accounts of the missions you completed from reading the reports, but I have no first hand experience. I feel like an intruder, like I am somehow unworthy, or, I guess, not masculine enough?”
Luke’s compassionate eyes watched every reaction on Spencer’s memorized features. Luke leaned in and took Spencer’s face in the palms of his hands, forcing Spencer’s warm eyes to follow his own darker pair.
“Querido, no. You have more than proven your strength day in and day out on the job. None of the spouses or partners are going to know exactly what we went through out there. That is why you are so important, you are here for us, even though we have these battle wounds. The ones that can be seen and the ones that remain unseen. Spencer, I want you there, because I am so proud to have you by my side.” Luke placed a soft kiss in between Spencer’s furrowed eyebrows. “Let me show you off to my unit, show them how Alvez scored someone out of his league.” He grinned, watching Spencer’s lips curl as that heart-melting blush slid over his cheeks.
Spencer considered backing out, but felt like a coward for even humoring the idea. He exhaled and stood, clutching Luke’s strong hand. “You really know how to boost an ego there, Alvez.”
“Good, because I already told them all about you.” Luke smirked as Spencer’s eyes took in the new information. It was going to be a long day.
As Luke pulled into the circular drive, Spencer took notice of the various cars and SUVs lining the side yard. By the number of vehicles, there would be no more than twenty eight people in attendance. Spencer gave lectures to upwards of two hundred students, and even now these twenty eight people wouldn’t be hanging on his every word. It wasn’t like he was walking on to a football field in a blindfold, Luke was here, he would be fine. Perfectly fine, right?
The white cottage had a deep gray trim, as the couple rounded the house Spencer took note of the metal ramp to the porch. There was music playing and voices carrying on the summer breeze.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to show his slack-jawed face again!” A red haired balding man called out from one of the four picnic tables spread over the stone patio. “That’s Harper.” Luke said under his breath.
“Look who hasn’t forgotten his drill voice, I mean, we’re all standing right here, Harp.” Luke volleyed back. SFC Harper stood and shook Luke’s hand, bringing him in for a manly hug with many pats on the back. Soon it was a frenzy, Luke hugging and shaking hands with everyone. Some of the women kissed him on the cheek, when he finally came to a new face he spun on the spot. Looking to introduce Spencer to his army family, meanwhile Spencer had unceremoniously hung back, taking in the scene of camaraderie. The tall genius remained uncharacteristically quiet.
“I’ll be right back.” Luke excused himself and returned to Spencer’s side. “How do you want to me to do this?” He whispered gently, waiting for the go ahead. Spencer sized up the situation and realized one on one introductions would be putting him on the spot for physical affections.
“One big introduction?” Spencer offered. Luke nodded and spun on the spot.
“Hey, so, everyone? This is Spencer.” Luke called out to the group. Everyone did the AA chant of an enthusiastic echo of “Hi, Spencer.” Luke pressed on, grinning with pride. “Spencer is my teammate at the BAU, and also my boyfriend. Be nice, guys.”
A couple cat call whistles burst from the crowd, but overall it was a jovial welcome, and Spencer got out of shaking hands by waving back delicately. A muscular pink faced man rolled over to Spencer and Luke first, he used a manual wheel chair instead of a mechanical one. “Good to see you smiling, Alvez. Nice to meet you, Doc. Brenton Johnson, host extraordinaire. Welcome.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant Johnson.” Spencer stated happily. A plump woman scurried over to introduce herself, rubbing Johnson’s back mindlessly.
“I’m so glad, y’all could make it.” Her accent was pleasant, her smile pristine. “It had been so long since we have seen our Latin Luke, the girls and I were getting worried.”
“Don’t mind my wife, Doc. The other wives all had bets on what tickled Alvez’s fancy.” Johnson barked out a laugh. “Missy’s just rubbing it in everyone’s faces because she called it.”
“Called what?” Spencer asked confused.
“Why don’t you give us the tour, Missy?” Luke interrupted to avoid the social undertones that Spencer had missed.
After a tour and more formal introductions, Spencer slowly began to relax. Luke hovered when the packs of wives and girlfriends tried to give Spencer the third degree. There were lots of, “What’s it like in the FBI?” or “I bet your patients just love you.” When one of Luke’s brothers in arms approached Spencer, he held his own. Spencer managed to only scared away two with his ramblings. Just before night fall the cards came out.
“Alvez, you want in? Only twenty dollar buy in.” Harper called from the dealer’s seat.
“Nah, man, I’m good. I’m going to help Missy with the dishes.” Luke waved out of the offer.
“Mind if I take a seat?” Spencer asked innocently. “What’s the game?”
“Texas Hold ‘Em, sure you want to go toe to toe with these guys, Doc?” Johnson asked warily.
“Can’t hurt to try.” Spencer shrugged. The men around the table laughed, but no one was laughing as hard as Luke Alvez, whose army buddies were bound to lose their shirts to his quirky genius.
“You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation.” - Plato
I was so close to my goal that I could practically taste it. Months of work and years of preparation had gone into this very night. No one would be able to question me after I walked out of this bar. In a career dominated by men, I would only draw respect.
Men were always suspicious of other men. Women were the panthers crouching in the shadows.
A/N: This is the last piece for my 1k Follower Grab Bag of Fics. Thanks everyone for voting and for reading all these very different stories that came from the characters, tropes and seasons. Enjoy! xoxo Stu
Your name: submit What is this?
Waking up there was an inkling, something had planted itself in your thoughts overnight and it wouldn’t let you go. You grabbed your favorite mug and started pouring yourself a pick me up. Unconsciously, you glanced across the kitchen island to where he would have stood with his tablet and his coffee and all of his issues. Damnit, you had to get out of this condo and move on already.
You collected your things and headed into work, the inkling growing into a thought that quickly unfolded into a plan. By the time you stepped into your supervisor’s office it had become a decision.
“Hey, Joel, can we talk about a transfer?” And with that request, your life changed forever.
Aaron Hotchner hadn’t dreamed of putting his son through this again, but one thing he had come to accept was that nightmares were more likely to come true. He helped Jack carry their duffel bags from the unmarked Marshalls’ sedan and into the cookie cutter house in the unsuspecting neighborhood in the randomly selected mid-sized town.
“Agent Hotchner, I’d like to introduce you to your wife, this is Deputy Marshal Y/L/N.” SD Carlson explained. Hotch internally groaned as he held out his hand to the attractive woman before him.
“You can call me Eric,” Hotch gave a tight lipped nod.
“I’ll be Michelle, nice to meet you, Mr. Hansen.” Y/N came off as strictly business, which suited Hotch. If he needed to play house in order to keep Scratch off their trail, he would do it. One more trained law enforcement officer in the house, the better.
Jack stood off to the side, looking hurt and slightly annoyed. Hotch quickly stepped back to present him to his witsec mother.
“Hey buddy, don’t worry, this won’t be forever, but Michelle will be staying with us while we wait this out.” Y/N waved cautiously to the tween, he still had the soft features of youth, but whatever he was going through radiated about the room. Hotch’s voice dropped, “Manners.”
Jack shoved forward and held out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Mom?”
Y/N smiled, a genuine glimmer of surprise over her features, “You too, Jason.”
One month later
You had somehow found a routine, despite Agent Hotchner seeming to disapprove of or quietly ignore your every move. Jack was the best fake son you could have hoped for, smart and thoughtful. He was lonely, but once he got acclimated at the new school, he seemed to perk up. You tried to keep busy, finding ways to slowly redecorate the furnished home without costing the taxpayers too much. Suburbia was isolating when you couldn’t get too close with others.
Each night Hotch cooked, something that gave him a zen like glow. He didn’t have much interest in his new job, so planning detailed meals for the three of you became his hobby. You were outside in the yard clearing some plants that were out of season when a car rolled passed you. It was an unfamiliar car and between its poorly tuned engine and its creeping speed your back itched with shivers. You quickly finished the task and headed inside for the night.
You didn’t see the car again, but its memory had you checking windows in every room you entered.
“Something up?” Hotch asked, chopping boisterously on the counter top.
“Just a weird car had me spooked earlier, seeing if it shows up again before digging deeper.”
“And people think I’m paranoid,” Hotch’s voice fell flat, it wasn’t playful, it was annoyed.
You bit back the retort that first came to mind, watching him lose himself in his preparations once more. After a few minutes you sighed, “I’m going to get cleaned up and go get J from the Russos. Need me to pick up anything on the way back?”
He took the time to think about your question, but he still curtly denied your help. You tried not to take it personally, this was all a charade. Spending any amount of time with someone; it was natural to want to get along with them. Even annoying coworkers found middle ground to get their jobs done. Why wouldn’t he just loosen up?
Jack was growing on you, you found that he and Tonya Russo had taken over her family’s dinner table with their project on Mount Rushmore. Which, naturally consisted of a two foot high replica of the monument.
“Ready buddy?” You asked, having passed through the small talk with Tonya’s older sister easily enough.
“Uh, I guess. See you tomorrow Tonya.” Jack murmured as he stacked his research into a messy pile and dropped it into his backpack. You drew him to your side in a half hug, “Thanks for having him over. Let me know if you want us to host a study night before the presentation?”
“Okay, Mrs. Hansen, but I don’t think we should move this more than we have to.” Tonya gave you a concerned look.
“Yeah, Mom, duh.” Jack whispered playfully. “What’s for dinner?”
You looked down your nose before answering, “Do I look like the chef to you?”
Jack hurried out to your assigned SUV crossover and began futzing with the radio settings.
“So, how was your day?” You started making small talk, as he was the only one you really could hold a two way, honest conversation with.
“Fine. What’s with you, you seem, off.” That kid.
You huffed, “Sorry for the spaciness, has your dad always been an ogre, or is there something about me personally that sets him off?”
“Oh, well, not really. He just gets like that sometimes. Usually it had to do with tough cases. Jessica always said he had been through a lot. But those moods don’t usually last long.”
“Jessica is your mom’s sister, right?”
“Yeah, she’s the best.”
“Sorry you have to miss her.”
Jack shrugged, “It could be worse, plus, I know I’ll see her again soon. The BAU are the best, that unsub doesn’t stand a chance against them. Even without my dad.”
You smiled, glancing back at him in the rear-view mirror. He had been raised on recounts of real-life crime fighters, you hated to break that bubble, no matter how necessary it would eventually become. You decided to leave the conversation where it went, taking the insight from the littlest Hotchner to heart.
Each night before bed you checked your email, using a proxy server and being rerouted for extended safety. There was little progress on your circumstances, but there were always reports and other cases to look over. As if this wasn’t a round the clock job as it was.
You decided to dig a little deeper on your, roommates, just to figure out if something you did was setting Hotch off. You understood he was used to being in control, a natural leader, but there were more layers than just being ornery over submitting to others’ plans for safety’s sake.
When you had read over the Hotchners’ file initially you had only been given the Cliffnotes version, after a request from two tiers up in command, you were sent the whole file. The first kick in the gut came from when you learned that this was not the first time Jack had been in the Marshals’ care. When you learned about how his mother died, you had to swallow back the bile.
“You’re aunt wasn’t joking, kid,” You muttered to yourself, recalling the conversation you had earlier. You finished the file and made a promise to yourself. No matter what, nothing was happening to that beautiful boy. You slowly made your way upstairs to get ready for bed. The house was large enough that Aaron and you had separate rooms, keeping one very simple so as not to alert guests to the awkward arrangement.
His bedroom door was open and the light was on, instinctively you knocked.
“Yes?” His voice was soft. “Oh, Y/N, hi.” He was in bed reading, his strong chest bare, the telltale scars from the accounts you had just read like neon signs, drawing your eyes from his face.
“I just wanted to say goodnight, thanks again for dinner,” You peered through the open door, trying not to stare or stall.
“Alright, well, you’re welcome.” His brows twisted as if expecting more. You smiled and turned back to your room, letting out the tension and breath you had been holding.
Three weeks later
Hotch had been watching Y/N clear the table, her arms gracefully scooping up the plates and flitting back to the sink. She moved with speed and efficiency, but it was also mesmerizing. The two months they had been living as husband and wife, he had learned very little about her life outside her job. Which wasn’t surprising, he wasn’t keen on oversharing with his team or the locals either. But the intimacy of their situation made it feel intentional and the profiler in him told her she had been hurt and that person had certainly been a man.
Jack had parent-teacher conferences that afternoon and Hotch and Y/N had to make an appearance, one of the few joint efforts of interacting as their cover identities. He carefully held the door to the classroom open for her, his free hand falling to the small of her back as if to guide her in. She glanced up at him, her eyes bright and curious. He froze, falling into a smirk and a nudge before catching the teacher’s eye on the other end of the room.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hansen, welcome!”
Two months later
Hotch had started golfing on a league on Thursday afternoons, essentially giving you an afternoon off. Jack would rush through his homework to be able to earn his screen time for the night. He played so many games on his handheld console, you lost track of them all. As you were changing the sheets in Hotch’s bedroom a muffled buzzing met your ears.
It wasn’t in the bedside tables or the chest of drawers, you checked under the bed and in the bathroom. Finally you found it, in a small hidden compartment on the top ledge of the closet was a locked box, like a handgun case. Whoever was trying to get a hold of him, they weren’t giving up. Without the key, you were stuck waiting for him to return.
You left the box on the dinner table and waited for his secretive ass to get home.
Hotch would have rather been at the shooting range than the driving range, but had to keep up the appearances. He was pleased with his putting game and looking forward to their weekly take out meal. He left his shoes in the breezeway before making his way to the kitchen for a beer. Y/N was fuming, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of blatant challenge etched into her normally carefree features.
“Did I do something? Is Jack okay?”
“J’s fine, he’s shooting zombies in his room.” She explained. She turned to grab something off the table and held it out to him. “Go on, take it. It hasn’t shut up all afternoon, Aaron.”
“This isn’t what it looks like, well, it is, but it was only for emergencies.” Hotch tried to make sense, the familiar anxiety taking over him as he sorted his key ring from his pocket.
“You don’t think we should have known about this? After everything we’ve been through together, you can’t trust me?” Y/N ground her teeth in frustration.
“Is this about not following protocol or me not trusting you?” Hotch countered, freeing the old flip phone from its confines. He watched Y/N as he began listening to his messages, she wanted to argue, but lost her nerve with his retort.
The calls started from a familiar yet unsaved number, he quickly stopped listening to the messages and hung up. “Look, you can be mad at me all you want, but I am going to figure out what the hell is going on with my team. I am not risking the call being traced. Give me an hour and I’ll tell you everything.” Hotch pleaded with Y/N, he didn’t want to blow this out of proportion, but he also didn’t want her worrying Jack with her mood.
She took a moment and considered his offer, her glare eased infinitesimally and she nodded. “Everything?”
“Everything.” Hotch promised. She stepped toward him, eyes searching his for any wavering, any remaining pretense.
“Go, we’ll be here when you get back.”
Hotch almost smiled. “Thanks.”
That night after dinner, you had a few drinks and watched one too many episodes of Troll Hunters with Jack. He had tried to stay awake, but the couch in the den was just too comfortable. You left a quilt over him and dimmed the lights. The surveillance team in the neighborhood had run extra patrols while Hotch made his phone calls, ensuring he wasn’t followed and your cover hadn’t been compromised. After a chapter of your latest ebook, Aaron got back. One look at his face and you knew it wasn’t good news.
He had been crying, which was not something you had expected.
“What can I do?” Were the first words out of your mouth. You needed action, a purpose, a way to make this better, to ease his pain, even only slightly.
He shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, but I know it is my fault. By protecting Jack, I left my team vulnerable to be his targets.” He took a few ragged breaths before dropping the phone onto the counter.
“They are trained professionals, they can handle this.” You stated the obvious, mixing in comfort while grasping for straws.
“Is it wrong that I was relieved I wasn’t there? What kind of person is grateful his friends are in danger while he is unable to help them?”
“That’s not the same thing, Aaron. Being grateful for your own safety doesn’t make you happy your friends are in danger. Come on upstairs, you need to sleep on this before you do something stupid.”
You don’t know what it was you said that got him to listen, or if his rational thought won out over his anxiety-masked exhaustion. He headed to the stairs, you double checked the doors before leaving the kitchen light on in case Jack woke up and wanted to walk to bed. Feeling confident in your placement and the details of their protection, you followed Aaron into his room.
He was still in his golf clothes, his polo untucked and his socks lined with grass clippings. You didn’t know what to do, so you went to your default tension-reliever. “Why don’t you get comfortable, I’ll start you a bath. You really have been missing out on the master bath’s jacuzzi-like jets.”
You went back to your room and opened the adjoining door. The tub was massive and took forever to fill, meaning Aaron was standing in his robe behind you before you realized it. He cleared his throat, “I feel silly taking a bath.”
You smirked, “Even tough FBI agents can enjoy the finer things in life, Hotch.”
“Don’t call me that, Y/N. I thought-“ He seemed reluctant, stepping towards you, then to the side of the tub.
“You thought what?” You asked, confused on where he was going next.
“I thought we had moved passed nicknames. You’ve been calling me Aaron consistently.”
He smiled slyly at your blushing face, you hadn’t realized what using his first name meant to him. How personal if felt, you returned his smile. “Sure, I am okay with that. Aaron. Have a nice bath, towels are there and I’ll leave you be.”
“Thanks, Y/N, for-- everything.” His dark eyes lingered on your face, you felt pinned beneath his stare. Suddenly your mouth was on his and his arms were pulling you closer, nearly off the floor with his strength. His lips were rough and his tongue was playful, and you finally let yourself acknowledge how he made you feel. How every part of your body tingled with his presence, every conversation and fleeting glance rolled together until all you knew was his name. And how it would always be safe in your mouth.
To say that the other members of his security team hadn’t caught on to their budding romance would be a gross overstatement, but Hotch hadn’t let on that he and Y/N had finally slept together. Unfortunately, there were far too many other items to address. His private number had been disconnected, making any direct contact to the team impossible. Jack knew something had happened with their case, but Hotch refused to fill in the blanks until his view of the picture was complete.
A few nights later, Hotch found himself lazily stroking Y/N’s upper arm with his thumb, she was tucked against his side as he watched her sleep. They had their nights to share while they lived their daily lives in the shadows of their covers. He had learned how she had left behind a verbally abusive ex, transferring across country to start over. He explained how he was never too careful after losing Haley while in protective custody.
She eased his worries and he sent her soaring, they fit. After months of living together at arm’s length, they met in the middle and found themselves better. It was too good to be true, his rational mind warring with the need to let it work itself out. His mind floated back to the team and how everyone was, it felt like another lifetime now.
There came a knock at the door, Hotch eased Y/N back into the sheets and went to answer whomever was on the other side of her bedroom door. It was SD Carlson. Hotch stood in just his boxer shorts, leaning his top half out the door.
“What’s happened?”
“Agent Hotchner, Peter Lewis is dead. Your team pursued him and he fell off a building.” Hotch let the news sink in.
“You’re sure?”
“He’s gone, Hotch.”
He rocked on his heels, the relief began to trickle through him. “And the BAU?”
“Looks like he had been torturing Prentiss, not sure the state she’s in now. Another member, Agent Walker died in a car crash a few days ago.”
“Prentiss always comes out on top. Was it Stephen Walker, from the BAP?”
“Sounds about right.”
“That’s too bad.” Hotch sighed. “Thank you, Carlson. I guess we’ll talk exit strategy in the morning?”
“Give us a few hours, but we’ll start the process, sure.” The older man nodded, “Have a good rest of your night.”
Hotch ignored the knowing glint in the Marshall’s eye. He stretched his arms above his head and looked back at Y/N desperately trying to feign sleep. “Did you hear everything?” He asked affectionately.
“Enough.” She didn’t even open her eyes, a gentle hum came from her chest as she readjusted against the pillows. His eyes drank her in, slowly.
“Y/N, I was thinking.” He began, sitting down beside the curve of her waist.
“That sounds a lot worse than it should.” She played with the hem of his shorts.
He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, whispering conspiratorially into her ear. “Well, I kind of like it here. How would you feel about sticking around, Mrs. Hansen?”
