Showtime
Aaron Hotchner x reader
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 đľ
-
âAlright,â Hotchâs voice evenly said, âLetâs go over what we know.âÂ
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.Â
You take a long sip of your coffee. Trying anything to get your brain caught up with the team. Youâve 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. Youâve 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 wonât see. You can always feel it.Â
âAll victims are couples,â Garcia looks over the group, ducking away from the images, âAll of the attacks occurred in the Coyote Springs just outside Flagstaff, Arizona. All within a gated subdivision, heavy neighborhood watch presence, but itâs a large neighborhood. Thereâs nearly 6,000 residents in the community.âÂ
âWoah, big neighborhood.â Emily sighs, looking back to the file.Â
Reid clears his throat, âThe 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.â
âNot a drifter,â Morgan adds, âHe knows their routines. Knows who belongs.âÂ
Your gaze sharpens, âWhich means heâs comfortable there.â
Hotch nods without looking up to acknowledge you, âAnd patient.âÂ
Reid leans forward to add more, âThereâs another commonality. Every couple has a significant age gap.â
âYeah,â JJ agrees, âAll of these women are at least fifteen years younger than their husbands.âÂ
âThatâs not a coincidence,â Prentiss confirms, âThatâs motive.â
You speak without hesitation, âResentment.âÂ
Rossi turns to you, âElaborate.âÂ
âWhen I was working in hostage negotiation,â Your voice calm, âlarge age gaps in relationships came from extremist ideology and vigilante thinking. They see themselves as a moral authority. He isnât killing these couples, heâs correcting something he sees as wrong.âÂ
All eyes on you. Your eyes dart to Hotch. âTheft of youth.âÂ
Reidâs eyes light up, âA savior complex. He may believe heâs actually rescuing the younger woman from-â
â-a perceived predator,â Rossi finishes.Â
âWhich makes Coyote Springs his hunting ground. His own aquarium. Everyone inside thinks theyâre safe.â Emily continues.Â
Hotch exhales slowly, âSo we canvass. Interview neighbors. Increase patrol presence.âÂ
âThat could spook him into hiding.â JJ argues.Â
âYeah,â Morgan agrees, âThis guy thrives on control. You flood the neighborhood with badges, he disappears.âÂ
Prentiss tilts her head, âUnless he comes to us.âÂ
You feel the shift before anyone could actually say it. Her eyes darting to you. Then Hotch.Â
Rossiâs eyes flick between you two now, âYouâre thinking bait.âÂ
It didnât go over anyoneâs heads that you and Hotch have a scarily similar age gap as the victims. Beautiful. Active. The perfect setup.Â
âIâm thinking opportunity.â Emily corrects, âTwo people who could fit the pattern. A new couple moves in quietly. Lets the unsub think something perfect fell in his lap.â
âNo.â
Hotchâs answer immediate.Â
You blink. Then laugh. âWow, look at us already on the same page.âÂ
His eyes turn to you now, sharp and warning, âThis is not a game.âÂ
âNever said it was,â You reply lightly, âIâm just agreeing that maybe the two of us playing house isnât the best play.â
JJ steps in, âIf the unsub is watching, heâs choosing couples that look stable. Happy.â
âYet another reason this wouldnât work.â You mutter, Rossi elbow in your side tells you heâs the only one that caught the comment.Â
âWhich means?â Garcia questions.Â
âA married couple, or at least one that presents that way would statistically be the most appealing to draw him out.â
More eyes fall back to you.Â
You slowly look around, âOh, absolutely not.â
Hotch doesnât look at you, âAgreed.âÂ
âYou telling me youâre scared, Y/Ln?â Morgan grins.Â
You look him dead in the eye, âIâm telling you Iâm smart enough to know that Hotch and I canât sell married and in love.âÂ
âWell,â Rossi turns his gaze over to the rest of the group, âAre there any other alternatives here on the team?âÂ
The group looks around at each other. You know there arenât any. You donât need to look around to know that most of them are too close in age to raise that kind of brow.Â
âI canât believe this.â You shake your head with a humorless laugh.Â
Hotchâs jaw tightens, âHeâs looking for a performance.âÂ
The rest of the room quiets at his words. Youâd be ashamed to admit to the warmth pooling at the dark look on his eyes. This shouldnât be able to work.Â
âLook, youâre both qualified.â Emily claps, âIt wouldnât be your first time going undercover.â
âI mean no offense by it, but Y/Ln is the perfect trophy wife bait.â Morgan holds up his hands in self defense.Â
âSomehow Iâm still offended.â
Rossi raises a brow to you and Hotch, âThe unsub is escalating. If we miss him again, someone else dies. This isnât about whatâs comfortable. Itâs about leverage.âÂ
Hotch pinches the bridge of his nose. Silence stretches while everyone tries to come up with an alternative.
âSo maybe it is the best play.â You sigh, coming to the same conclusion as the rest of the team. Your hand slides to cover your face with a groan.Â
âFor what itâs worth, this is like so hot.â Garcia bites the end of her pen looking at you both, âSo hot.âÂ
âBabygirl.â Morgan sighs with the shake of his head.Â
âYouâre enjoying this way too much, Pen.â You warn with a smile that is anything but friendly.Â
âImmensly.â She continues to beam.Â
A long pause.Â
Finally Hotch exhales, âIf we do this-â
He pauses to read your face. You arenât supposed to profile each other, but you can see heâs looking to see if youâre truly comfortable. If you can do this. You know you can. You give him a subtle nod.Â
â-we do everything by the book.â He continues, âFull surveillance. Backup within minutes. No unnecessary risks.â
You suddenly smirk, âYouâre gonna hate every second of this.âÂ
âYes,â He said flatly. You grin wider, âThen Iâm in.âÂ
He looks at you. Really looks.Â
âWheels up in two hours. We prep covers immediately.â
Garcia squeals. Prentiss smirks at you. Morgan claps once.
This is going to get complicated.Â
-
The jet's familiar hum rings over them lowly. Youâre 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 wouldnât be the only eyes on you two while undercover, but they would be most watchful.Â
âAlright,â You smile, âLetâs build our beautiful lie.âÂ
Hotchâs eyes dart to yours over his file, âWe already have preliminary covers.â
âPreliminary is not convincing.â You reply, turning to Emily for help.Â
âSheâs right.â She shrugs, âEspecially since we know this unsub is watching his victims.â
He doesnât argue, he simply sets down his file on the table. âProgress.â You bite your cheek. âAaron Hayes. Attorney. Corporate litigation.âÂ
âThird marriage,â You add with cheer, âWhich no offence, you can sell.âÂ
His mouth tightens, âItâs realistic considering the previous victims.âÂ
âAnd it adds baggage.â You continue, âBaggage is realistic. Thatâs what heâll like.âÂ
Rossi raises his brows, âWhat about you?â
âY/n Hayes.â You quickly reach out a hand to shake his with a pearly smile plastered to your face, âTwenty-six. Former marketing assistant. Now⌠professionally vague.â
âTrophy wife.â Hotch said flatly. You beam, âExactly.âÂ
His eyes study you, âYouâre sure youâre comfortable with this?âÂ
âHotch, youâve seen me pretend to be sympathetic to truly terrible people. Being hot and underestimated is a vacation.âÂ
He exhales quietly.Â
âI want to add something else.â
He looks back up.Â
âPower.âÂ
He frowns, âExplain.âÂ
âYouâre already older. Already established. Already married multiple times, but I think we lean into it harder.â You lean back in your chair, âMake you a professor. Law school. Ethics. Authority.â
He immediately stiffens, âThatâs unnecessary.âÂ
âIs it?â You tilt your head, âOur unsub in punishing perceived imbalance. We donât 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.â
The jet goes silent as itâs clear he is contemplating your idea.Â
âA professor implies mentorship. Influence.âÂ
âAnd the implication that I was dazzled,â You add lightly, âBy your mind. Your status. Your power.âÂ
The silence stretches back over the jet.Â
âThat makes you uncomfortable.â You observe.Â
He pinches the bridge of his nose, again, âIt complicates the dynamic.âÂ
âThatâs the point.â
He stares for a long moment, âFine.âÂ
You grin, âGreat! So, how did we meet?â
âA conference.âÂ
âBoring. Try again.âÂ
He sighs, âGuest lecture. You were assisting with event coordination.âÂ
âOoh, I love that!â You agree, âI spilled coffee on you.âÂ
âYou did not.âÂ
âI absolutely did. You were very patient about it. Very kind. I thought you were intimidating.â
Hotchâs lips twitch into a smile for a split second before he could correct it . For a split second, you saw it.Â
âAnd then,â You continue, âyou asked me to dinner. Which I declined. Twice.â
âWhy twice?âÂ
âBecause it makes you chase.â You answer obviously, âAnd because neighbors love that kind of story.âÂ
Hotch closes his file, âYouâve done this before.âÂ
âSomething tells me you really didnât look at my resume all the times Straus sent it back when I was brought on.â
Rossi leans in closer to Hotch, âShe did this for a year for the FBI. It was prior to the hostage negotiation.âÂ
You watch the realization and curiosity pass over his face. He hadnât looked into you much at all. There wasnât much desire after Straus insisted upon you.Â
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.Â
As soon as you both stepped onto the tarmac, you slid your hand into Hotchâs. 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.Â
âBreathe. Like you like me.â
âI donât-â
âIn character.â You correct yourself, âIt's game on.â
Realistically the unsub could be anyone. Which is why they werenât afforded with the luxury of riding with the rest of the team. The show has begun.Â
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.Â
âShowtime.â You give Hotch one last smile before hopping out of the truck.Â
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.
âThere you go.â You whisper, âProfessor Hayes.âÂ
He glances down at you, âYouâre enjoying this.âÂ
âImmensely.â You tease.Â
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.Â
âNewlyweds?â A voice calls out.
You turn to see a woman from two houses down. You answer without skipping a beat, âSix months!âÂ
Hotch blinks, looking back down at you.Â
You tip your head forward before Hotch can flinch. Ripping off the bandaid. You knew he would tense if you didnât catch him off guard. Heâs 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.Â
âRelax.â You place a hand on his chest, âYouâre doing great.âÂ
His voice is low, âYou donât hesitate.âÂ
You pull him down for a hug, whispering in his ear, âNeither does our unsub. We canât afford to.âÂ
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.Â
-
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.Â
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.Â
She hums in their earpieces, âFor the record, the neighbors clocked you as âvery affectionateâ within twelve minutes of you pulling in the driveway. Linda from two doors down texted her sister Sharon about you.âÂ
You arch your brow, âWhatâd she say?â
You can practically hear Garciaâs grin, âQuote âThe new wife is gorgeous and very young. Heâs either lucky or stupid'."
âIâll take it.â You hold up your mug of coffee in mock salute.
Word spreads fast in this neighborhood.Â
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, âWe should establish routines.â you say, practical as ever, âFood. Morning patterns. Something that feels lived in.âÂ
Hotch nods, âIâll take mornings. Coffee. The paper.â âI donât do early.â You decide immediately, âBut Iâll fake it if I have to.âÂ
He glances at you, something like amusement flashing across his face before he hides it. âNoted.âÂ
âI can handle dinner.â You decide, âWhat kind of trophy would I be without something warm on the table for you?â
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.
âI can help.â He gets up from the counter, eager to wipe the sour look from your face.Â
âRespectfully, you moved us in today. You should shower.â
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.Â
âDonât forget, Iâm your hot twenty-six year old wife. Act like it.â 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.Â
By the time Hotch is done with his needed shower, he can smell the food coming from downstairs. Spaghetti. Heâs impressed that youâve 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.Â
âIf weâre too distant we stand out, and now that weâre here-â Hotch clears his throat, âYouâre right. I need to act like it. At any point now the unsub could be watching us.âÂ
He smiles as if he hadnât 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.Â
âIâm glad youâre officially on board.â 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.Â
The room has been staged well, itâs a pretty room. A large bed right in the middle of it. Hotch pauses just behind you in the doorway, âWe can take turns on the couch.âÂ
You shake your head immediately, âNo. Couples like us donât do that.âÂ
He exhales slowly, âUnderstood.âÂ
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. Heâs changed into long pajama pants and a black t-shirt.Â
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. Youâre supposed to be a young hot wife, that means little for the pajama department.Â
He begins brushing his teeth while you do your skincare. The silence stretching painfully rather than peacefully is the only clue that this isnât real.Â
Youâre 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.Â
You lie on your back, your hands folded over your stomach, âNight, Hotch.âÂ
âGoodnight.âÂ
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. Heâs already up by the time your eyelids pull open.Â
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. Youâre surprised he didnât fix it first thing. But, this isnât really him.Â
âMorning, professor.â Your voice lazy from sleep.Â
He freezes for half a second.
Then recovers, âSleep well?â
You smile, taking steps closer to him. He reaches out an arm to wrap around your shoulders. The food smells good.Â
âLike a dream.â You lie. He knows.Â
You wrap your arms around his waist while you both sway together. Youâd be ashamed to admit it once you were more awake, but you lean your weight against him to support.Â
By noon, youâre laying out by the pool. The bikini is not subtle. It isnât meant to be.Â
Garcia groans over the comms you can all hear again, âThis seems deeply unfair.â
âTell me about it.â Emily whined.Â
Hotch watches from inside, his jaw tight, posture rigid. He knows exactly what you are doing and why it works. Heâs almost alarmed at the pace you could set for the unsub.Â
Neighbors slow as they pass. A man across the street checks his mail. Twice.Â
You donât look at any of them. You keep your sunglasses on, body relaxed and unconcerned.Â
Itâs bait.Â
And itâs effective.Â
Hotchâs 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.
âHi! Iâm Linda. Weâre having a block party on Friday, and I thought weâd invite the new couple!âÂ
You smile, all warmth and charm, âIsnât that sweet!â
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.Â
âAaron.â He extends his other hand to shake Lindaâs.Â
Itâs clear Linda is trying to hide her gaze on their PDA. She stutters out the time while focusing on your hand placed on Hotchâs warm chest. The rock the FBI provided glimmering brightly on your ring finger. The sun continues to beat down, Hotch very aware of how youâre all skin right now. Heâs only touching bare skin. He vaguely hears you ask if you should bring anything. He misses the response.Â
âLovely.â She waves, âWeâll see you then!â
Linda walks away, you wave goodbye as she walks back to her house.Â
âSo, that's what it takes to get you to come outside?â You turn, Hotchâs hold still on you, âLinda?â
âWhat-â
âI mean, Iâve been out here for how long, Garcia?â
His hand tightens again, not expecting you to circle the team back in. He forgot their eyes and ears are on everything.
âForty-five minutes.â She answers.Â
âDisappointing.â You whisper, it fans over his face.Â
âIâll work on it.âÂ
He leans down before you can pull another stunt, he presses a kiss to your brow.Â
-
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, everyoneâs face all smiles but Emilyâs tone tells another story.Â
âI think weâve got to work on being what the unsub is looking for.â She reminds, âYou both need to work on being closer. Physically.â
Morgan nods, âSheâs right. The profile says entitlement. Ownership. A guy who thinks heâs won.âÂ
âYou donât protect, Y/n. You flaunt her.âÂ
Hotchâs jaw tightens, âThatâs not-â
âThatâs the role,â She cuts in, âA man who would absolutely brag about locking down another wife half the age of the last one.âÂ
Emily is exaggerating obviously, but she makes her point clear.Â
âIâm good, Hotch.â You smile, wrapping your hand around his arm and pulling him closer, âIâm not fragile.âÂ
He exhales slowly. Once. Controlled.Â
âUnderstood.âÂ
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.Â
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.Â
A neighbor you havenât met jogs by on a late run, waving to them as she passes. Lindaâs 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.Â
Lots of activity in this neighborhood. Lots of eyes. You and Hotch are putting yourselves in full view.Â
âYou good?â You ask quietly.Â
âYes,â He answers, âAre you?â
You study him, âIâve played worse roles than this.â
His mouth tightens, âThat doesnât make it easier.âÂ
âNo, but it gets the job done.âÂ
You reach up to card your hands through his hair. Running along the side, pushing it back.Â
âUhh, guys?â Garcia chimes in the earpiece. You both keep faces neutral.Â
âOne of the exterior cameras just changed angles.âÂ
You still. Hotch does too. Youâre not sure you would be able to tell if you werenât practically in his lap right now.Â
Inside the van, Rossi leans closer to the screen. âDid we do that?â
Garcia typing away furiously.Â
âNo. And the system didnât flag it either.âÂ
Emily frowns, âCan someone access it remotely?â
Garcia hesitates before answering.Â
âIf they had administration credentials they would have remote access.âÂ
âSo, the unsub is watching right now?â You ask, eyes still on Aaron.Â
âI would assume so since he adjusted the exterior to include you both in frame.â
âLetâs give him a show.âÂ
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 donât give him the chance to cut it short, leaning into him.Â
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.Â
âTake me to bed.â Your words are pressed against his lips.Â
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 didnât put a camera.Â
âGarcia, did any other angles in the house change? Any interior cameras?â Your voice sounds a lot more calm and clear than you feel.Â
âUm,â She clears her throat, obviously still reeling from everything she just witnessed. âUh-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 heâs watching.â
Thereâs a long pause while she works before she comes back on, âWait, yes! Heâs online. Heâs still active on the hall camera. Iâm guessing heâs waiting for the afterparty.âÂ
Emily nods, âHeâs watching for something. He wants to know if they fit his needs.âÂ
Inside, the performance continues. You mess up your hair, Hotchâs to be fair already was. You change out of the clothes you had on before and opt for just one of Aaronâs law t-shirts. It feels right. Puts a little pressure on that authority insecurity.Â
âIs he still watching?â You ask Garcia.Â
âMhm.â
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.
âBabygirl, youâre a genius.â Morgan claps.Â
It only needs to give the illusion they need. Just enough to piss him off.Â
-
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 donât know his true patterns and if heâs confident enough to approach them both at once.Â
All morning there is activity out in the street. People are setting up tables, music, and food. It looks like they donât do anything small here in Coyote Springs. You picked out the perfect summer sun dress, and curled your hair and leaving it down simply. Itâs short enough to put your legs on display.Â
âSafe choice,â Hotch nods, looking at the tray covered in foil.Â
Safe to comment on the food, not the dress.
You smile up at him, âPeople trust baked goods.âÂ
He opens the door for you both to walk out, and itâs already full. The party is already in full swing. People everywhere. Children running around. The smell of the grill takes over.Â
Too many faces.Â
You immediately feel your posture sag a little trying to keep track of everyoneâs expressions while walking through. You keep one hand on the tray and the other curled possessively around Aaronâs bicep. You let him guide you around, introducing yourselves.Â
He leans down to press the occasional kiss to your lips, temple, brow. Anything to hear your low laugh. You both look inseparable.Â
From the street, itâs enviable. From the cameras, heâs raging.Â
âWeâve got a lot of eyes.â Garcia says into the earpiece.Â
JJ watches over the crowd, âHeâs here. He wouldnât pass up this opportunity.âÂ
You move slowly. Deliberately. Introductions begin to blur. Retirees, young families, couples whoâve 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.Â
âOh! You made it,â Linda says brightly. âAnd you brought something.â
âBrownies,â You smile. âI hope thatâs okay.â
Linda takes the tray. âOh, people will love you.â
Her gaze flicks to Hotch. âYouâre a lucky man.â
Hotch smiles wide, proud, exactly the wrong way.
âI know,â he says. âI really do.â
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.Â
âOh, where are my manners!â Linda sighs, âMeet my family. This is my husband Bill, and my son Matthew.âÂ
She then turns where the other boy still watches. âAnd this is my sister Sharon and her son Toby. They live just a couple streets down.âÂ
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 wonât meet yours. Instead theyâre on Hotch. Specifically where his hand is glued to your hip possessively. You shift closer and his grip bruises, Tobyâs jaw tightens.Â
You turn to speak over Aaronâs shoulder so they wonât notice what you ask Garcia.Â
âGarcia, what do we know on Sharon and her son?â
Thereâs a pause. You turn back your attention to Linda and Sharon, waiting for her chipper voice to come on the earpiece.Â
âLet me see what I can find!â 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.Â
You keep smiling and turn your attention to Sharon and her son who hovers behind. âSo, how long have you guys lived here?â
âAll of his life.â Sharon answers, smiling softly at him.Â
âMust be hard,â You reply gently, âwatching things change. New people are moving in, although I hope weâre welcomed!â
Everyone laughs at your comment, except for Toby. His gaze has yet to leave Hotchâs touch.Â
Sharp. Hurt. Furious.Â
Hotch squeezes a warning.Â
His eyes flick up to your face for the first time.Â
You excuse yourself from the group to refill both of your drinks. When you return, you immediately slide onto Hotchâs lap. You dive back into conversation totally unphased, but in your peripheral you can see Tobyâs 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.
âIâve got something juicy,â Garcia jumps back in, âSharon was just divorced from Tobyâs 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.âÂ
âRight when the killings started.â Emily reminds.Â
âIt get better-or worse, I donât know which is-what way it-âÂ
âGarcia.â
âHe 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?â
Garcia gags over the earpiece nearly making you wince and yank it out of your ear.Â
âSheâs twenty-four, heâs fourty-nine.âÂ
Bingo.Â
You turn to look over Hotchâs shoulder to see Tobyâs expression, only to find him missing. Lindaâs son is gone now too.Â
âDoes anyone have eyes on him?â
No answer.Â
You both thank people as youâre saying goodbye. Smiles. Keep the act flawless.Â
The house feels wrong the second your foot crosses the threshold. Hotchâs 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.
âWhat the hell is that?â Morgan yells.Â
âI donât know! Something is blocking the signal.â Garcia types furiously.Â
âWeâve got to go in now.â Morgan grabs his vest and his gun.
âIf heâs not with them, this will blow their cover. Weâll scare him away.â Rossi adds.Â
âIt wonât matter if theyâre dead. Toby is the unsub, Iâm sure of it.âÂ
-
Toby is standing in the living room, holding a gun he shouldnât know how to handle. And itâs aimed right at you both. His hands are shaking. Your hand tightens around Aaronâs arm.
âShut the door!â He yells, you both slowly step the rest of the way into the house and shut the door.Â
His face is pale, eyes wide, and breathing way too fast.Â
He raises the gun closer to them, âUpstairs. Now.â
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.
âOn your knees.âÂ
Neither of them hesitates. Neither of you tries to reach for your weapon. Yet.Â
Hotchâs shoulders brush with yours. Toby paces in front of you, waving the gun wildly in their direction the entire time.Â
âYou think youâre better than everyone!â He yells, âYou think itâs okay to take whatever you want.â
You tilt your head slightly, âWhat did he take from you?âÂ
You try to remind that Hotch is not his father, although with the anger in his eyes youâre not sure he can tell. His pacing stutters.
âYou watch people like us?â You continue, âYou think youâre correcting something?â
âCorrecting what heâs taking!â He jabs the gun at Hotchâs chest. You feel the air get knocked out of your lungs.Â
âCorrecting my theft of youth?â
Your words from the beginning of the case now echo with Hotchâs voice. Toby freezes.Â
âThatâs what he did,â Tobyâs voice growing hoarse, âHe took her youth. He took our family and replaced it with something younger. Easier.â
Hotch swallows when Toby turns his focus onto you. He lets the barrel of the gun slide across your collarbone.Â
âItâs despicable. This is the same thing.â He gestures between you two.
You hold his gaze, âI chose him. He didnât take anything from me.â
Your voice softens, âAnd I donât regret it.âÂ
The truth in your voice is unmistakable. Hotch feels it like a shockwave. An earthquake.Â
âYou donât want to kill us.â You voice gentle, calming the room, âYou want someone to admit what happened to you was wrong. That it was fucked up.âÂ
Tobyâs hands shake more, his eyes fill.Â
âHe didnât even talk to me about it. He just moved out.âÂ
You nod, âDonât you want it to stop hurting?â
His head bobs.Â
âThen put the gun down.â
He hesitates.Â
Hotch keeps his voice low and steady. Using his dad voice, âYouâre not a monster. Youâre a kid that got left behind.â
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.Â
âItâs okay, weâre all safe now.âÂ
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.Â
-
The team gathers in the living room to discuss everything that just unfolded and establishing a time to meet at the jet.
âSharon works for CPI Security. Thatâs how Toby was able to access the homes and the cameras. He was using her devices.â Garcia explains their total blackout on seeing and hearing them. Toby was smarter than they had thought. Thatâs 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.
âEnough!â You shout, âI would like to shower and then get on a plane and go home! Is that too much to ask for?âÂ
âNo maâam!â âWeâre going!â âOkay, okay!â
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.Â
âWell, I suppose I will have to give this back to evidence.â You sigh, holding up the rock on your ring finger to the light with a chuckle.Â
âYeah, Iâm sure thatâll take some getting used to. Youâll feel lighter.âÂ
You roll your eyes, putting your toiletries away, looking at him in the mirror.Â
Leaning your hip against the counter you look up at him, soft now and unguarded. âYou were very convincing. You stepped it up.â
He matches your lean, a step closer.Â
âYou were extraordinary from the beginning.â
The smile on your face shifts into something real, âYou used my words back there.âÂ
âI know.â He says, âI know what they mean to you.â
A beat passes. You swallow, his eyes follow down your throat. One he has kissed numerous times now.Â
âDo you regret it?â he asks.Â
You shake your head without hesitation, âNot even a little.âÂ
Hotch reaches out, slowly. Deliberate. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is warm. Bare. Uncharacteristically gentle.Â
âNeither do I.âÂ
-
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.Â
For the first six minutes of the flight, no one says a thing.Â
âSo,â Morgan starts far too casually, âWe gonna talk about the kissing, or are we pretending none of that ever happened?â
You close your eyes. Hotch exhales through his nose.Â
JJ doesnât even look up from her tablet, âI witnessed at least nine when I was on cams.â
Garcia gasps, âIâve got so many screenshots-
âGarcia.â Hotch warns.
You groan, âOh my god.âÂ
Rossi smiles into his coffee, âYou know, Iâve been undercover a lot. But Iâve never seen Hotch commit like that.âÂ
Morgan grins, âMy boss went from âdonât touch meâ to âthis is my wife, donât even breathe in her directionâ in twenty-four hours.âÂ
Hotch clears his throat, âFocus.â
âSir,â Emily smiles, âYou grabbed her waist every time someone looked at her for more than two seconds.âÂ
âThat was tactical.â
You snort loudly before you can even stop it.Â
Morgan points immediately, âSee! She knew it!â
Garciaâs cuts in, âAnd can we discuss the wardrobe?â
You straighten in your seat, âGarcia-â
âThe bikini,â She barrels on, âThe sundress. The backless sundress. The way you were charming everyone and-â
âGarcia!â You say both mortified and laughing.
JJ smiles, âTo be fair, it worked. He didnât stand a chance.âÂ
âHotch or Toby?â Rossi asks with a jab.Â
Hotchâs ears turn red.Â
âWell, technically Y/n is closer in age to Toby than she is to Hotch.â Reid interjects. âPlease, donât ever remind me of that again.â You shake your head, a sour look on your face. âI would also not like to be reminded of that.â Hotch agrees.Â
Rossi raises his brow still looking at Hotch.Â
âIt was part of the profile.â He reminds.Â
Impossibly so, Rossiâs brow aims higher at Aaronâs answer, âYou told three different men you were âvery luckyâ and ânot stupid enough to mess this upâ.â
Silence.Â
Your lips twitch with a smile as you look over to him, âYou did?â
His jaw tightens, âThat⌠may have come up.â
Morgan outright laughs, âBoss, you were bragging.â
You cover your face with one hand, âI can never show my face in Arizona again.âÂ
âYou absolutely can,â Emily disagrees, âYou own that cul-de-sac now. Whatever you two were doing, it sold and it worked.â
Reid nods, âYeah, no notes. Except, next time? I want hazard pay for having to watch all that.â
"Me on the other hand, " Garcia grins wickedly, "I saved it all!"
âYouâre welcome, you pervs!âÂ
You toss a harmless handful of plane popcorn at them, rolling your eyes. Thereâs an unguarded and warm smile on your face that makes Hotch shake his head watching it all unfold.Â
Hours later itâs early morning on the east coast when they finally land on the tarmac.Â
âDebrief tomorrow at 9AM.â Hotch says, âGet some rest.âÂ
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.Â
âYou think any of them bought it?â You ask, a soft smile on your face. Honest and open.Â
He flashes you his rare smile. The one usually saved for you and Jack on the weekends.
âProbably not.â
extra of the team finding out here!
an// all too aware of the fact that itâs been almost two years since iâve written for Hotch, but I am obsessed all over again i fear. i had so much fun writing for him again!
















