Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hotch had known he would live to regret approving this undercover operation. He also knew he would never be able to look you in the eyes again, especially after what he was about to do. 

As he entered the club, the bouncers stopped him at the door to pat him down. He was unarmed and that made things even more stressful. You were already in there, with no back up and no wire to call for help. The only way they had been able to keep an eye on you was Garcia. They’d gotten a warrant to tap phones and hack security feeds. So Garcia, Reid and JJ were watching from a van a few blocks away. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi were with swat, as they were every night for the past month, waiting for you to give one of two signals. The first meant that you had all the evidence they needed to bring down the trafficking ring they’d been after for months. 

The second meant your cover was blown and you needed help or you were going to die. 

Thankfully, the second hadn’t happened and he had no reason to suspect they’d made you or were suspicious. Unfortunately, the first hadn’t happened yet either. No, the reason Hotch was coming to meet you, was because there’d been a major development on the outside. One that you really needed to know about. 

He knew he didn’t really fit the role he was coming here to play, but he already had one agent in this hell hole with no weapons or back up. There was no way he was going to send in another, not when there was such a high risk of getting caught. 

Not when the consequence might’ve been death. 

So here he was, sitting front row, center stage, as you walked out into the spotlight and wrapped your dainty little hand around the gleaming stainless steel of a stripper pole. It felt wrong. 

Watching you like this…

In person. 

Not from behind the screen of a CCTV, where watching you was simply part of the job he had to do to make sure you were still safe. Here though, here he could see everything. In a way he was incredibly uncomfortable with, because he could no longer keep his eyes from wandering. He couldn’t help the thoughts that forced their way into the forefront of his mind. He could not deny the way you made him feel . 

Not when he was close enough to see the detail of the red lace that barely covered anything . Close enough to see the matching red polish on your fingers and toes. The way your hair was glinting in the red stage light. 

Red . 

Everything was red; your lips, your lingerie, your fingers, toes and even your heels. That drove him insane. Red was a weakness of his, especially on you and you wore it every night. It was part of your stage presence, your character. Red like a fox, after the moniker you had chosen; Vixen . He couldn’t help but think it fitting. 

As the music began to play, he sent up a prayer to whomever was listening. 

The club had been lenient with you so far, allowing you to keep your lingerie on as you danced. Letting you get a little more comfortable on stage before expecting you to bare yourself to the crowd. 

They had… until a few nights ago anyway. When in the middle of your routine with a group of other girls, one of them had unclipped your bra for you. 

You had simply let it fall to the floor. 

Hotch and Spencer had both been watching from the van that night, and had immediately exited the vehicle. Leaving Garcia and JJ to keep watch over you until your limited clothing was securely back on your person. 

He hoped beyond all reason that you wouldn’t be exposed like that with him sitting this close. Because if he looked away, it would call the attention of the bouncers. The men who frequented this establishment did not shy away from nudity, they reveled in it, leaned in to get a better look. Which had him regretting every life decision that had brought him to this moment, because if he didn’t look away, he would never be able to erase the sight of you from his mind. 

He knew what he had to do. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty about it. No. The shame had already risen in his belly and was slowly clawing its way up his throat. It only got worse when he thought about what he’d have to do next. 

He’d seen countless other men do it over the last few weeks. So he knew that when your dance was over, he had to flag down a bouncer, and request a private dance from you. That was the only way to get you alone, so he could give you the information you needed. The only way to speak to you unseen and unheard. They didn’t record the private rooms, they didn’t even have audio in there, so you wouldn’t actually have to dance for him.

Still, he was nervous about it. About all of it. 

Try as he might to convince himself that the anxiety—clutching his heart with a grip made of titanium—was because he knew you could both die if your cover was blown. The lie just didn’t ring true. 

Not as your perfect leg bent at the knee and gripped the spinning expanse of metal. Not as your back arched and your head tipped back, so slowly it was agonizing. Your hair, just barely grazing the floor in all its glory, was a bit too tempting for his sanity. 

He was anxious—more like petrified—because he knew that as soon as you walked into that room in a few minutes you would be able to read him like a book. Then you would know. 

So he watched, with bated breath, as you danced. Looking as though you’d been born to it. You were a natural. 

He knew, of course, that when they’d started planning this undercover op you had enrolled in an exotic dancing class that also offered pole dancing. But you’d only been in classes for a month. 

Which meant calling you a natural wasn’t a stretch. 

He didn’t know how he was going to remember what he was supposed to tell you. Everytime he looked at you a little too long, his mind went blank and his mouth stopped working. 

He was so absorbed in watching you, he didn’t even notice that you’d seen him. You were on the floor of the stage, thrusting your hips up into the air and rolling them, then all the sudden, you were making very intense eye contact. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t look away. Your eyes burned into his like lasers, but there was no disgust, no accusation, no confusion. 

Then the song was over and you started to gather the money that had been thrown at you and landed on the stage. 

A wave of shame crashed over him and Hotch looked away. 

*************************************************************************************************************

You’d clocked Hotch’s tall broad frame the moment he’d entered the club. His gait as recogniseable to you as your own face in the mirror. 

You had him memorized. Every single mannerism was familiar to you, every word predictable.

You had kept an eye on him as you’d danced, worried about him fitting in, but his acting was impeccable. The way he had watched you when you were doing your floor work had been… heated. You almost would have thought it was real… if you didn’t know better, of course.

It’d been a month since you last saw him, or any member of your team, in person. Communicating only through weekly calls on a burner that you had hidden in your UC nest apartment. 

Your last check in had been the night before. So you had turned the phone off. If Hotch was here–inside the club, you knew he was always watching from outside–that meant he had something very important to tell you. He would never risk your cover otherwise. So as soon as your dance had been over and you’d gathered all your hard earned cash and gone to the locker room to put on some lingerie that was a little less– revealing. 

Sure enough, less than five minutes later a bouncer caught you on your way out of the locker room. 

“Hey Vixen!” He’d called out. “You got a guy in room one, he bought an hour. Nice work!” 

An hour!? Holy shit, this was either really bad… or they were about to raid the club and sent Hotch in first to get you out of harm's way. You had assumed he would just ask you to sit at the table with him otherwise. 

“Alright, I’m on my way.” You assured him. 

Your stripper name had been a joke that Derek and Spencer had come up with while you’d been preparing for this operation. Derek had made the comment that you were a fox in the henhouse so you should go by Foxy as a joke. You and the other three women on the team had groaned, complaining that Foxy was the least sexy stripper name you could think of. Specifically because it reminded you of the bully from the Chicken Little movie. Then Spencer, of all people, had suggested Vixen, because that was the term for female foxes. You had all agreed that it was much sexier and still just as funny. You still smiled to yourself every time you thought about the look on Hotch’s and Rossi’s faces when you’d told them.

You didn’t knock before you entered the room, you simply slipped inside quietly, closing the door silently behind you. 

Though dimly lit, you had no trouble observing the concerning body language that was reflected at you in the mirror lined room. 

He was pacing, staring at the floor in front of him, his thumb rubbing the side of his forefinger anxiously. 

Great. So it was bad news then. 

He turned to trod back toward you on the path he was wearing into the floor, but stopped on a dime when he saw you. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. Remembering the camera in the corner that he didn’t know about. 

“Hi, I’m Vixen.” You said, using the sensual tone you’d perfected over the last month. One of the other, more veteran, dancers had told you that the syrupy sweet customer service tone you came in with might have worked as a waitress, but wouldn’t cut it as a stripper. So you’d practiced. “What’s your name, handsome?”

Hotch blinked at you a few times, confusion evident in his expression. You slowly, but purposefully, turned your body toward the wall to your right, tipping your head forward so that your hair fell in front of your face. Obscuring your mouth from the camera in the left corner. Opposite the door you’d just walked through. 

“Camera.” You mouthed in his direction, flicking your eyes toward it.

You saw the panic that took over his face for a split second. Then he went stone faced just as quickly. 

“Aaron.” He murmured softly. 

“ Aaron .” You repeated, as though testing the way the word tasted on your tongue. You were, in truth, you’d never said his first name before. Not aloud… not to him… but at night, in your bed, when you were all alone…

No, stop. You can’t think about that right now. Not with what you had to do next. 

He nodded, as though confirming that, yes, that was his name. You smiled salaciously at him for the camera’s benefit and he froze. You took a few steps closer, keeping the camera behind you so that you could give him an apologetic look. 

“I like it.” You said keeping your tone the same as it had been. “It’s strong… like you I’m sure.” 

He cleared his throat, shifting his feet. Where was this awkwardness coming from? You had never seen Hotch act like this before. He was always confident. Sometimes anxious, if he was worried for someone’s safety, but he never acted like he did not know what to do or say next. 

“Have a seat.” You gestured to the long couch against the wall. Slinking over to it yourself and lounging lazily against the backrest. 

He hesitated. Frowning-no, glaring at the couch as though it was a danger to his health. 

“Aaron, sweetheart. Relax.” You soothed, pulling him out of his stupor. “We’re just getting comfortable.” 

He came over and sat—several feet away from you—on the edge of the couch. Your back was to the camera so you rolled your eyes at him playfully. Then you scooted closer. 

“I don’t bite.” You teased, he looked back at you, his eyes clearly stating that he was skeptical of that claim. 

“Sorry.” He croaked and then cleared his throat, flattening his hands against his slacks and rubbing his thighs forcefully. As if his palms were sweaty. “I’ve never—ummm. I haven’t ever…” 

You nodded your understanding. 

“You’ve never had a lap dance before?” You asked. Not judgmentally—of course, this only bolstered your preconceived notions about him, he was a gentleman—just softly, soothingly. Hoping to calm him because you knew that if you didn’t the bouncers would know something was strange. 

He cleared his throat again and shook his head. 

“I’ve never even been to a… club… before. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He murmured quietly. 

Translation: this is completely uncharted territory and there are no policies about this particular situation to guide me. You’re my subordinate and this is fucking weird. I don’t know what to do.

Got it. You nodded slowly. 

“That’s okay, this is a pretty normal reaction. I can walk you through it.” You replied, but what you meant was: I’ve got this, follow my lead. “ Why don’t we go over the rules, do’s and don’ts, and that’ll tell you what to expect and then if you’re still uncomfortable then we can just sit here and talk, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard, and he still looked so nervous you felt the need to poke the bear a little. To break the ice.

“I’m honored by the way.” You said, letting your tone convey the mischief coming his way. 

“Honored?” He asked, his back straightening a bit, and there was that look you adored. The one that practically screamed ‘what the actual fuck’ even though you knew he’d never say those words outloud. He was a gentleman. 

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, giving him a mischievous grin. “I consider it an honor that you chose me to pop your metaphorical cherry.” 

He choked on air, coughing and spluttering. You chuckled softly, amazed at how flustered he was getting. The Hotch you knew was stoic, confident and poised. 

The man before you now was a wreck. 

************************************************************

Hotch had not been prepared for this. 

The lingerie, the sensual tone, the way you seemed so at ease—like you’d been doing this for years, not just one month—the way you were looking at him, the dirty jokes, it was all just too much. 

He hadn’t expected there to be a camera in the corner of the mirror lined room. Garcia hadn’t found this one’s frequency or whatever it was called. He’d have to tell her about it later to see if she could find it. For now though, he was going to have to get creative with his words to tell you what you needed to know, without raising suspicion. 

“So,” He breathed, clearing his throat for what felt like the thousandth time since you entered the room. (It was embarrassing, honestly.) “how does this work?” 

What he was trying to ask was: how am I supposed to tell you sensitive information without blowing your cover? He could tell that you understood by the look in your eyes. 

“Well, you paid for sixty minutes and it’s been about three. So, we can spend that time however you want to spend it, as long as you follow the rules.” You explained to him, then started listing said rules. “First, I have to tell you that we’re being recorded. It’s for my safety and yours. That way, no one tries to take more than they paid for, and none of the dancers can claim sexual assault if it didn’t really happen.” 

He noted the way you phrased that, and fully understood the meaning behind it. The camera was to cover the ass of the establishment, not to protect the girls or the patrons. Classy. 

He nodded that he understood.

“Now don’t let the camera scare you, these tapes are erased and recorded over every night unless something happens that the club needs a record of.” You explained. “So the tape won’t get out unless you… do something ungentlemanly.” 

He nodded again, no one would be analyzing this recording after the fact. Got it. That also explained why Penelope couldn’t hack into this feed. It’s old school tech. No internet required. 

“The bouncers are watching us, but don’t be embarrassed, when I turn on the music to dance it will drown us out and they won’t be able to hear anything . They also can’t see your face from this angle, so we still have some privacy.” Your expression gave that phrase its true meaning.

I have to dance if the music is on, or they’ll be suspicious. If I don’t turn on the music you can’t tell me what you came here to say without being overheard.

He felt his heart trying to beat its way up into his esophagus. Choking him as it pounded. 

“Now, nothing happens without my say so, got it?” You said sternly, for the camera’s benefit, as if he really was a stranger. A patron. It made him feel a little sick to his stomach. This felt as though he were demeaning you, debasing you. He didn’t like that, not at all. “You don’t touch me unless I say so, and only where I allow it.” 

He would never, and he knew you knew that—he hoped you did anyway—but he still hated hearing you say it. 

This was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever experienced on the job. You were his subordinate and he was your boss. There was already a clear power imbalance between you. That was the only reason he hadn’t already made any advances with you. Now, you were standing before him, nearly naked, and he was fully clothed. He didn’t know how you were so calm, how this didn’t make you want to crawl out of your own skin.

To make matters worse, his body and his morals were at odds with each other. In his head he knew how messed up this was, but his libido did not care. You were simply stunning and every fiber of him was hyper aware of it.

“Of course.” He replied, giving you an apologetic look in response. Hoping that you hadn’t had any trouble of that sort from other men in the last month.

“Your clothes stay on, even if mine don’t. If the bouncers see a dick, they will barge in here and ask you to leave. They will not be nice about it.” You continued the rules for the benefit of the camera. Then you hesitated and he knew that whatever you said next was for his benefit only. “As long as you’re comfortable, I’ll keep going. If you don’t want me to do something, just say so and I’ll stop. Are you ready?” 

No, he was not, and would never be. This was going to completely ruin his professional relationship with you. He was sure of it. 

He nodded anyway, knowing he had no other choice.

“It’s gonna be okay, Aaron.” You whispered, so quietly he barely heard it. Then you got up, walked over to a sound system in the far corner, selected a song and set a timer. The timer seemed to be protocol but he knew you also didn’t want the bouncers to interrupt and hear anything they shouldn’t.

The music was loud, the bass made the whole room vibrate, it was sensual and the lyrics were beyond suggestive, bordering on raunchy. 

When you started to dance, running your hands over your body, he did his best to keep eye contact. So you would know he was being respectful, professional. It didn’t help to look away, the mirrors reflected you from every angle. You’d said the camera couldn’t see his face, so that was the least he could do. He hated putting you in this situation, but there was nothing he could do now except make you as comfortable as possible. 

You held eye contact with him, even as you dropped to the floor, crawling to him on your hands and knees, then sat on your knees between his feet. You leaned back, dragging your hands up your thighs, stomach, and breasts, then above your head as you completely laid down on your back in front of him. 

This, Hotch thought, was his own personal hell. Being forced to sit here and watch you move like that, knowing it was only because you had to to maintain your cover. 

Your legs were in the air now, kicking sensually, then spreading wide. The red of your panties—because of course you’d chosen red for the second time tonight—caught his attention briefly and he cursed himself for looking. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw and thought about literally anything else. Praying he wouldn’t get an erection.

Then you climbed up into his lap, and began to ride his thigh. 

Hotch bit his own tongue, doing whatever he could to stop the inevitable. Even if it meant causing himself a little pain. 

“I’m so sorry.” You murmured in his ear, your hands on his chest. “It's part of the routine they taught me.” 

“It’s fine.” He gritted out. 

“Why are you here? Has something happened?” You asked him, and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. 

Not with you rolling your hips like that. Not when he could feel the heat of your core through the fabric of his slacks. 

Luckily you continued without giving him a chance to respond. 

“Has there been a leak? Do they suspect me?” You asked and the tinge of fear in your voice had him opening his eyes. 

“No! Nothing like that, you’ve done an excellent job. They don’t suspect a thing, as far as we can tell.” He assured you softly, looking into your eyes to make sure the fear left them. “You’re still safe, I promise.”

And since he was studying your face, he saw. 

He saw the way the fear melted away as you flushed at the praise, and he felt the way your thighs clenched around his. He was intrigued, unsure of what he knew he’d seen and felt, so he started to pay attention. 

You noticed his attention, the change in his expression from soothing reassurance to curiosity. Your brow furrowed and you gave him a questioning look, then you stood. Your dance moves had become increasingly filthy and when you turned around and bent over, putting your ass almost directly in his face, with your legs spread open, he noticed something that hadn’t been there before. 

A patch of darker fabric had appeared on your panties. Right over your pussy. 

He glanced down at his lap, finding another dark patch on his leg, he touched it and his fingers came away damp. 

You were wet, soaked .

Because of him?

Well… he didn’t see any other men in the room that you could’ve had that reaction for. 

********************************************************

The way he was looking at you had changed. It wasn’t… uncomfortable? Not anymore. It was searching. Scathing? Questioning? Scrutinizing.

It felt like his eyes were filleting you. Deconstructing and analyzing your every move. You didn’t know what had caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, but you were worried that it’d been something you’d done. 

You sank down to your knees again, facing away from him, as you leaned forward onto your elbows and arched your back so that your ass was high in the air. Legs still spread wide, a gust of cool air hit you and suddenly you weren’t sure that your ass was the only thing on display. 

You sat up, leaning back so that your head fell into his lap. Touching your body in ways that felt so much more intimate now than they had when you’d practiced, you looked up at him. 

Then you met his gaze again, and his eyes seemed to devour you. He wasn’t just keeping them respectfully trained on your face anymore. He was drinking you in and it intoxicated you. Even though part of you knew you had to be imagining it. 

“I need you to do something for me.” He murmured, and you could swear he was looking straight into your soul. 

Your breath turned to lava in your lungs. That tone of voice was much different as well… and you didn’t know how to react to it.

“Sir?” You asked, barely breathing at all now.

“We received intel that the ring is smuggling in a shipment tomorrow night, I need you to confirm that it’s happening. Can you do that?” He responded, his voice barely a rumble in his chest. 

Oh , it was only about the case. You relaxed a bit. 

“Of course. I’ll do my best.” You assured him. 

“Good girl.” He purred, so nonchalantly you thought you’d misheard it. You blinked up at him, stunned, even as your body reacted. You felt your nipples harden, poking at the rough lace of your teddy. You’d chosen this one because it covered more of you than what you’d previously had on, but you hadn’t considered how flimsy it was. So when his eyes flicked up to your chest, you knew he could see them, and he looked… pleased?

The choreo you had memorized put you in his lap again, rolling your hips and grinding your ass against him. You felt the need to apologize again. 

“I’m so sorry…” You winced, knowing that you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again, not when you felt so guilty for being turned on by this. 

And you were. 

You had held it together so well until he had praised you and prioritized your comfort in the same breath. The way he had looked at you when he said it… like nothing mattered more to him in that moment than making sure you were okay. It had drawn you in, and the proximity to his body had done the rest. Until he’d called you a good girl with the confidence of someone who knew you’d like it. You felt like there was a fire in your belly and a river between your thighs. 

All because of his words.

“Don’t be sorry, you’re doing great sweetheart.” He rasped in your ear. 

You froze, was he…? No. 

“Don’t stop, they’ll think something is wrong and come in. We don’t want that, do we?” His voice, low and rough, flowed over you pushing your heart into overdrive. 

What the fuck?

“Hotch?” Your voice came out in a strangled gasp, completely unsure of the situation, and desperately hoping you weren’t misreading him. 

He shifted his weight, making you settle more firmly into his lap.

And then you felt it, solid and warm against your ass as you continued to roll your hips against him. 

He was hard. 

Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked over your shoulder at him. 

“You– you’re– Are you?” You stuttered, then closed your mouth so hard that your teeth clicked. 

He smirked at you, and your breath hitched. 

“I am, it’s a little hard not to be when you’ve left a mess on my thigh.” He murmured. 

You threw a panicked glance down at his leg, the one you had straddled before, and found a spot that was darker than the rest. Gasping in horror, you tried to stand, to separate yourself from him. 

“Stop.” His voice was commanding and strong, any hint of nervousness that may have been there previously was now long gone. You obeyed, but you didn’t sit back in his lap, instead choosing to sit between his feet on the floor. As though that was what you had intended to do all along if anyone was watching. “There’s no need to panic, but I need you to tell me the truth. Is it the atmosphere? The music, the physical contact, the clothes? All of those things can trick your psyche into thinking you feel things that aren’t real, that aren’t true. And that’s perfectly normal and not at all anything to be ashamed of. So, is it that? Or–” 

He paused, swallowing hard and then taking a deep breath. His eyes trained on the ceiling. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this…” He mumbled under his breath, then looked down at you with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before. “Is it me you’re reacting to? Am I making you feel this way?” 

You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t know what to say, how to act! You couldn’t read him, pick up on his nonverbal cues, or his verbal ones! Your brain had left the building, fuck , it had fled the country and was on a beach in Tahiti for all the good it was doing you!

On one hand, you were mortified. You had just left a wet spot on your boss’s thigh, and that was bureaucratic suicide, you’d have to quit your job, request a transfer to the Alaskan field office, or the Hawaian one. No, you didn’t deserve Hawaii. Alaska. You’d go to Alaska. As far away from him as possible so you’d probably never see him again. That sounded great!

But…

On the other hand… 

He was hard. Which meant he was also at least a little bit into this. 

Into you. 

There was nothing you wanted more than him, in this moment especially. 

So you let your brain take that Tahitian vacation, and your raging hormones take the reins. Which is why you let down every wall, knocking down every carefully placed brick, and looked him in the eyes. 

“Yes.” You whispered, unable to think of a single other thing to say. 

“Yes?” He asked for clarification, needing to be sure that you meant what he thought you meant. 

“Yes, it's you.” You breathed. 

*************************************************************************************************************

He almost couldn’t believe his ears, but his eyes were showing him the exact same evidence and he couldn’t deny what he was seeing. 

You were a mess. Your chest was heaving with labored breaths, your pupils dilated till they nearly over took your irises, you were quivering under his gaze and biting your lip so hard hewas afraid you’d break the skin. 

You wanted him. 

He didn’t have time to process the thrill of elation that shivered up his spine. He only had about fifty minutes left with you, and he still had to tell you everything he could to keep you safe while you went snooping in places you probably shouldn’t. 

But first… 

He was going to make you ride his thigh until you saw stars, and enjoy watching you for every second as he talked you through it. 

“Then climb back up here and straddle my thigh, sweetheart, just like you were earlier.” He instructed you, his voice sounded a little strained even to his own ears. 

“We’ll get caught…” You whimpered, clearly torn between what your body wanted and what your instincts told you was safe. 

He shook his head. 

“We’re not gonna break any rules.” He assured you, then clarified. “We’re not gonna break any club rules.” 

Bureau rules on the other hand… He’d worry about that later.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, and he bit back a smirk, because you were already moving to get back in his lap. 

That lack of restraint exhilarated him, and he itched to touch you, but knew he couldn’t if he wanted to make this work. So he balled his hands into fists and forced them to stay at his sides.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You responded without hesitation. 

“Do you want me?” He challenged, as you settled yourself with one knee between his legs and the other on the couch next to him, hovering just above him without putting any weight on him yet. 

“Yes.” You breathed, and even though he barely heard it over the music, you sounded sure.

“Then I’m sure.” He grinned up at you, and you seemed to relax, finally resting a bit of your weight on his leg. 

He laid his arms along the back of the couch, just to keep his hands off of you. You, of course, caught the movement immediately. 

“Aaron you can touch me, I only said that because it's what I’m supposed to tell patrons.” Your voice had just a touch of a pleading tone. 

“I know Sweetheart, but I’ve come to realize that I love to watch you. So what I want you to do right now is ride my thigh and make yourself fall apart on it.” He coaxed, and bit back a smile as, once again, your thighs tightened around his. “Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” 

The little whimper you let out as you nodded your head almost changed his mind about not touching you. You liked it when he talked to you like that, he was certain now. 

“That’s a good girl…” He praised, as you started to rock against him slowly. “Just like that. Use me baby.” 

You moaned, so softly he almost missed it and he couldn’t allow that. He wanted to hear every single sound you made, no he needed it, like he needed oxygen. 

“No one can hear you but me, sweet girl, so let me hear you .” He encouraged you as you started to work yourself a little harder against his leg. 

You tipped your head back and moaned louder this time. Fuck, you looked so alluring like this, he thought, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back from this. He was positive that if he didn’t get to see you like this every single day for the rest of his life, that he would simply lose the will to live. 

“So fucking pretty…” He murmured, taking you in, every perfect inch of you. 

In that red set that was so stunning on you, you looked like a goddess. He wanted to thread his hands into your hair, to run them over your skin. He was certain that you would be the softest thing he would ever touch in his life and he couldn’t wait to test that theory. For now though, for now, he just wanted to bask in the moment. One that he had imagined so many times… a little differently than this… but it was perfect all the same, simply because it was you. 

He knew that if he let himself touch you now, he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, and judging by the way you were rocking frantically against him, you wouldn’t want him to either. But he didn’t want the first time with you to be in a strip club. That just wouldn’t do, not for you. 

So he wouldn’t touch you, but he wouldn’t deny you this either. 

“Look at you, looking so beautiful like this. I can’t wait to take you home and let you ride me, pretty girl.” He traced his eyes over your form and then hummed softly. “Take your top off for me sweetheart, I wanna see you bare.” 

You shifted your weight a little to keep your balance—as if he would ever let you fall—then unhooked the clasp that lay between your breasts. You hesitated then, just for a moment, as though you were nervous. 

“I don’t know why I’m nervous. It's nothing you—and the rest of the team—haven’t seen before.” You chuckled, but it was self deprecating and anxious. 

He shook his head at you. 

“The only ones who watched your performances were JJ and Garcia after that first night. Even then, Spencer and I left as soon as we realized what was happening. Morgan and Rossi have been waiting with SWAT the whole time, so they haven’t even seen you in lingerie. Prentiss has but only because she had to grab something out of the van, and the entire time all she could say was that you were incredible for someone who had only been doing pole work for two months.” He assured you. “So no Sweetheart, the whole team has not seen you like that, especially not me.” 

That seemed to calm you a bit, and then without any further hesitation, you dropped the teddy to the floor. 

Hotch lost all semblance of coherent thought. 

*************************************************************************************************************

The air in the room had been cold at first, but now it was soothing to your overheated skin. You felt like you were simmering. The music was still thumping through the room and the beat was making everything feel so… erotic. 

To be fair it was. 

The way Hotch was talking to you… 

No one had spoken to you like this before, and you loved it. 

And when he had told you to take your top off, Christ , you’d nearly passed out. 

But now, as you let it fall to the floor, and you saw the effect it was having on him. You smiled. 

He was drinking you in, his eyes dilated till they were nearly completely onyx, instead of the warm hazel you adored so much. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as though he were imagining the taste of you there. 

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He whispered under his breath. Then looked back up into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful. Touch yourself for me, pretty girl. Let me watch you come undone.” 

Fuck indeed.

His voice was like a goddamn aphrodisiac, pushing you to let go of every single reservation and do exactly as he said. 

So you did. 

Dragging your hands up your thighs, to your stomach and then your breasts. Caressing and squeezing, your eyes on his face the entire time. All the while you continued to roll your hips against his thigh, the pressure building in your lower stomach was growing rapidly.

Hotch groaned, his hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white and you wanted to feel his hands on you so badly you couldn’t focus on anything but that.  

“Aaron.” You whimpered. “Please, touch me. I want your hands on me so bad.” 

“I know you do, pretty girl.” His voice rumbled through you, and a shiver went up your spine. “But you know I can’t do that, so if you wanna come then you’re gonna have to do it all by yourself.” 

You whined, writhing against him, trying to create enough friction to finish the job. But there was just something missing.

“What if I can’t?” You keened, clutching his lapels and grinding faster. 

“You can do it baby, I know you can.” He murmured.

“How do you know? You’ve never seen me like this before.” You pointed out, a little sassier than was probably necessary.

“No I haven’t.” He admitted. “But in the short time we’ve been here, I’ve noticed that you like the way I talk to you, you like being praised, and you like to please me. Don’t you?” 

Your eyes shot wide and your mouth fell open. 

“I- I uh-“ You stammered, at a loss for words. 

He smirked at you. Not teasingly, not really, but it was very smug. “It was a simple yes or no question, sweetheart. Do you like those things?” 

You nodded your head, because how else were you supposed to answer that? He had you in a vise with those gorgeous hazel eyes, so your verbal skills were sorely lacking at the moment. 

“Then listen and do what I say, pretty girl.” He murmured, those eyes locked on yours with an intensity that burned through you like a hot knife through butter. “Slow down baby, find your rhythm for me.” 

You stilled against his leg, then slowly started over again, rolling your hips in time with the music that was still pounding through the room like a heartbeat. A slow steady pulse. 

“That’s my good girl, you look so beautiful like this, sweetheart.” He purred. “Look at yourself baby, look in the mirrors and see how striking you are right now.” 

You felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, the way he was talking to you… It made everything feel heightened somehow, you weren’t even sure if it was the words he was speaking, or his voice alone.  

All you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop. 

So you did what he asked, and looked at yourself. 

He was right, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You looked so powerful . Sitting astride him like that with your chest bared to him. It didn’t look demeaning or subservient. You looked ethereal. 

But what really stole your breath away, was the way he was looking at you, while you weren’t looking directly at him. It made your core tighten and your skin heat even further, until you felt like you might literally explode. 

“There it is baby, I can see it written all over you.” He murmured. 

“I feel like I’m gonna explode.” You whined, your legs tensing and your grip on his jacket nearly ironclad.  

“I know, Sweetheart. You’ve gotta relax, just breathe through it and follow that feeling until you fall over the edge.” You coached gently. “You can do it, pretty girl. You’re almost there.”

You forced your muscles to release, your whole body melting into him as you rolled your hips against him steadily. You took deeper breaths, in your nose and out your mouth. 

“Good job, baby. Just like that.” He cooed, his voice sounding more and more strangled every time he spoke.

You felt it building, could practically see the cliff coming, and you were so close to falling over it, you just needed… Something.

Your eyes started to flutter closed and your head tipped back.

“Don’t close your eyes, pretty girl. I want you looking right at me. Look at my eyes.” He instructed firmly, and your eyes snapped back to his. They were burning, the heat in them was palpable and you felt like you could read every single thought running through his head. “I wanna see it on your face when you come.” 

That’s what finally did it. The unbearable tightness in your core exploded and spasmed violently.

“Aaron!” You moaned as your vision filled with colorful little spots.

“Good girl.” He hummed, the praise only spurring you on. “That’s it, come for me baby. Ride it out.”

You felt euphoric and then numbness settled in your limbs, making supporting your own weight feel impossible.

You collapsed against Hotch’s chest, your breath ragged and shallow. Your heart racing. Body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Are you alright?” He murmured in your ear after giving you a minute to bask in the moment. 

“So much better than alright…” You sighed contentedly. 

He chuckled softly and finally touched you, just to stroke your hair affectionately. 

You hummed pleasantly and nestled in a little closer. 

He tilted your chin up a bit so he could look at you, and he smiled. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

You felt your cheeks heat all over again, suddenly feeling bashful, even though you’d just ridden his thigh to completion. 

“Thanks…” You mumbled, and you didn’t know what had gotten into you. Shyness wasn’t your style, you owned your choices and actions. Something about the way he was looking at you, though, it had the blood rushing to your face in force. “Should we uh… Should we maybe talk about why you’re here? Other than… that.”

”That? He asked, his tone teasing enough that you knew he understood exactly what you meant. “Is ‘that’ what we’re calling it?” 

You wouldn’t have thought your face could turn any redder, but apparently it could! 

“I don’t know what we’re calling this,” You gestured between the two of you, “we can figure that out when the case is over. Right now I need to know what you came here to tell me.” 

He chuckled softly, and brushed your hair back from your face. Then, checking to be sure you were shielded from the camera, he dropped a kiss to your forehead. 

“I told you part of it already…” His smirk was going to stop your fucking heart, you were sure of it. 

“Let’s just pretend you didn’t?” You suggested. Not wanting to admit that you’d forgotten because—well the why was pretty obvious. 

He laughed again. 

“That’s alright sweetheart. I’d probably forget too if I just came as hard as you did.” He murmured, his eyes were twinkling brighter than the goddamn stars you were sure. 

You didn’t respond, instead you buried your face in his chest, hiding your embarrassment. 

“Hey,” He murmured, tilting your face back up to his with his knuckle. “I was just teasing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” 

“I know.” You whispered, and to be honest you had completely zoned out again because somehow… somehow , he was even prettier from this angle. 

“How much time do we have left?” He asked. 

You glanced at the timer you’d set on the sound system. 

“About thirty minutes so we better get on it.” You said and started to lift yourself off his lap, to be at least a little less distracted. 

“You’re fine where you are.” He said, freezing you in your tracks. 

“Okay.” You breathed, barely. 

So you sat on his lap and let him hold you as he told you every little detail of the intel they had gotten since your last call. 

Then he went over it with you again, and then quizzed you on it. Until he was absolutely certain that you knew it by heart. 

And then the timer went off, stopping the music.

It startled you both and you sighed reluctantly as you peeled yourself off his lap. 

He stood and followed you to the door, but before you opened it he caught your hand.

”Aaron?” You questioned, glancing at the camera that could now see and hear everything. 

“Sorry, I thought you stumbled.” He said smoothly. “ Are you going to be alright? If you’re dizzy, maybe you should take the rest of the night off?” 

Translation: Are you gonna be alright if I leave? Cause I’m not sure I will. I will pull you out the second you give me the signal that you need help. 

You smiled at him sweetly. 

“No sugar, I’m fine. Just caught my heel on the floor.” You assured him. “Thanks for catching me.” 

In non cryptic terms: I’ll be okay, I know you have my back and you won’t let me get hurt. I’m not scared.

He searched your eyes for a second and then nodded, approving of whatever he found in them. So you opened the door. 

The sounds of the busy club rushed back in as he followed you out into the chaos. 

“Hey Vixen!” A male voice called out. 

You froze, fear running down your spine. Surely they hadn’t read into that, or saw what was happening. All the girls rode men’s laps like that, granted they didn’t finish, but the bouncers wouldn’t have known that because you literally get paid to act like you’re getting off on it too. 

Hotch nudged you gently, effectively sending you back into motion. 

“Yeah?” You called looking in the direction of the voice. 

It was the same bouncer as before, heading your direction. 

“Hey I forgot to tell you that the camera in room one is down tonight, got a short in a wire or something. I don’t know. But if you go back in there tonight, scream or something if you need help.” He said nonchalantly as if that was the most inconsequential thing he would ever say in his life. 

To him it probably was 

You, however, were pissed. You could’ve ridden a whole lot more than just Aaron’s thigh. 

“Thanks.” You muttered, he nodded and walked away. 

“Try not to look so upset, Sweetheart.” Hotch murmured in your ear, sending the warmth of his breath straight to your clit—which was suddenly throbbing again. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities for everything you’re thinking about as soon as we wrap this case. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Then he was gone, before you even managed to turn around, lost in the crowd. You only saw the back of his head as he exited the club.

Chapter Text

When you’d given the signal—multiple times, just in case they missed it—you’d immediately gone to the locker room to get yourself out of the way of any over enthusiastic SWAT officers. 

It was late, nearly closing time and other than a few night owl patrons, only employees were left in the building. You heard the flash bangs, the shouts of “FBI EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND!” You heard the screams of the girls and the gunfire that inevitably ensued. 

That made your heart stall in your chest. 

Your team was out there. Hotch was out there . 

If you knew him half as well as you thought you did, you could almost guarantee that he’d been leading the raid. First one in, last one out. That was his style. 

A leader through and through. 

An incredibly sexy leader. 

You knew the drill, the plan that the team had agreed on. You were to wait in the locker room until they came to get you. Given that you were unarmed and half naked, you couldn’t really complain.

Unfortunately, when the shooting started, all the other girls came running back to the locker room in search of safety as well. 

Screaming their goddamn heads off. 

So you could no longer hear the voices shouting in the main room of the club. Couldn’t make out the familiar ones from the strangers. Couldn’t hear him . Only screaming and gunfire. Pure chaos.

“QUIET!” You shouted, loud enough to get the attention of the crowd of trembling strippers. “They’re not after us, obviously, or they would’ve followed us back here. I saw a SWAT vest, the last bar I worked at got raided once. They’re trigger happy, the best thing we can do is sit along the wall with our hands on our heads. Make it clear we’re not a threat. Okay?”

The girls all stared at you wide eyed for a minute, then slowly nodded and began to do what you said.  

“They’re probably gonna cuff us all until they figure out whether or not any of us are involved in… whatever it is they’re here about. Don’t fight and don’t panic. That’s a good way to get shot.” You continued. “Just cooperate and you’ll be fine, that’s what happened to me last time anyway.” 

They nodded again and then silence fell over the locker room. The gunfire had died down, either they were all dead or the “ bouncers ” surrendered. 

“The girls all ran this way.” You heard a familiar female voice out in the hall. 

Doors started banging open one by one, until Emily and Derek finally came bursting in, followed by three members of SWAT. Guns raised, they scanned the room. Both their eyes showed a glimmer of relief as they passed over you, not daring to stop and show any more than a hint of recognition. 

Emily was the first to holster her weapon and step further into the room. 

“I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the FBI.” She said, “You’re probably not in trouble, we just have a few questions and then you’ll most likely be free to go home. But you’ll probably need to find a new job, because this place is not going to reopen anytime soon.” 

The girls all started to murmur amongst themselves, one named Star even leaned over to you and tried to whisper something. You shushed her gently and looked back toward Em and Derek. 

“Ladies, please.” Derek quieted them, his weapon now holstered as well. “The first question we have is: who told you to sit like this if this ever happened? Was it your boss?” 

As one, every woman in the room—except Em and yourself—pointed at you.

Derek raised a brow. 

“Didn’t wanna get shot.” You muttered distastefully, shrugging as though being on this end of a raid was a normal occurrence for you.

“Take that one to the van for more questioning. Be gentle with her though, she’s not in trouble, yet .” He instructed one of the SWAT officers. A woman. Thankfully. “And tell Hotch where you put her.” 

And suddenly you could breathe again.

He was alive.

The officer cuffed you—not a great feeling, especially in lingerie—then she led you out through the club. 

“Sir!” She called out to someone across the room, you followed her line of sight and found Hotch, Reid, JJ and Rossi on the other side of the room in a huddle. 

They all looked over and saw you, cuffed. 

“What have you got?” Hotch asked, doing his best to avoid eye contact with you. To seem disinterested. 

“Agent Morgan said to take her to the Van for further questioning. He said to tell you where I was taking her.” She explained. 

Hotch nodded, then broke off from the group.

“I can take it from here, thank you. Go back and help Morgan and Prentiss.” He instructed her. 

“Yes sir.” She simply walked away. 

Hotch took your arm gently and led you outside. 

As soon as you cleared the first line of SUVs—out of sight of the doors and windows—he stopped, looked around, and uncuffed you. Being as gentle as he possibly could. 

“Are you alright?” He asked anxiously as you rubbed your wrists, even though you’d only had the cuffs on for less than five minutes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You murmured, glancing back toward the building where you had spent the majority of the last month and a half.

But then your back was against the closest SUV and Hotch’s mouth was welded to yours. 

He devoured you. 

His hands were framing both sides of your face and his knee had slid in between your thighs. 

You’d been so surprised by the kiss that your mouth had opened of its own accord and he had taken advantage of that, his tongue delving in to taste you. 

Then you got ahold of yourself and kissed him back. Fisting your hands around the straps of his Kevlar vest, and wrapping your leg around his. You pulled him closer until there wasn’t any space left between you. 

His hands started to move then, one sliding farther back into your hair and tangling in it, the other going to your waist with a firm grip that made you whimper softly and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

That pulled a groan from him, and he pulled away gently to look at you. He was smirking slightly as he pulled something out of the waistband of the lacy red panties you had on and held it up between two fingers in front of you. 

“A hundred, impressive , someone must’ve really enjoyed your last performance tonight.” He teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I know I did.” 

You snatched the bill from his hand, face flushing—and not from embarrassment—as you leaned back further against the SUV and let him look at you. 

“Yeah?” You purred, surprising yourself at the sensuality of your voice. “Take me home and I’ll do it again naked.” 

He chuckled softly, then leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. 

“As soon as this is all squared away, I promise.” He murmured, and then kissed your lips again softly. “I think this case aged me six years. One for every week you were in there without a weapon.” 

You took his face in your hands and turned his head side to side. Squinting at his temples.

“What are you doing?” He queried. 

“Checking for greys.” You mumbled as though distracted, and not as if that was a well aimed joke. 

He was a bit older than you, you weren’t sure how much.

He reached around and pinched you lightly on the ass, making you squeal giddily then cover your mouth. Looking up at him in wide eyed surprise. 

“What!?” You asked defensively (but not really, you were grinning ear to ear) “Grey hair is sexy, can’t a girl like what she likes?” 

He laughed, just a soft little huff, but it made butterflies stir in your stomach. 

“Well, if you find any, just know that you caused them.” He joked, running his fingers through your hair and tucking it behind your ear.  

You giggled, opening your mouth to respond but you were interrupted.

“Hotch!?” Derek’s voice rang out through the night air. “Where are you?” 

You stepped away from Hotch, not quickly, like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Just tactfully, slowly. You weren’t sure how he would feel about the team finding out about… whatever this was…

“We’re over here.” Hotch called back and then he reached around you and opened the SUV door, grabbing a suit jacket off the center console draping it over your shoulders. Then murmured, “You looked cold.” 

You laughed softly as his eyes flicked down to your chest pointedly, your nipples were definitely hard and visible. 

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” You joked, earning a smirk in return as you put your arms through the sleeves and pulled his jacket tighter around you.

*************************************************************************************************************

Hotch couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of relief that had flooded his chest the moment he saw you after the raid was over.

He also couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. 

Your waist, arms, shoulders and back nearly constantly had a hand on them, connecting him to you in some way. He couldn’t help himself. It’d been two weeks since the last time he’d been close enough to touch you, he was taking every opportunity he got. 

You were standing next to him in the van, still wearing his jacket and not much else, when you yawned. You tried to hide it, but in a room full of profilers… 

“You look exhausted.” JJ murmured softly from across the small expanse, and he was inclined to agree. “One of us should take you home.” 

You shook your head in protest, and he fought back a smile. 

“No, I'm fine, really!” You insisted. “I’m not even *yawn * tired.” 

He shot you a look over his wrist as he checked his watch. 

“Yes, that was very convincing.” Hotch teased, smirking at you as you yawned yet again. “It’s nearly four in the morning. Come on, Vixen. I’ll take you home. In fact, we should all go home. Get some rest everyone, and I don’t expect to see you until noon tomorrow.”

A pathetic little cheer went up around the room and everyone began packing up. 

To your credit, you tried to stay awake to keep him company on the near hour drive to your apartment, and he appreciated the nervous chatter, but you only lasted 20 minutes. 

Soon, your soft snores filled the cab. He smiled each time your head lolled to the side and you jerked it back upright. 

He used the time to work up the will to stay in the car, because he knew, if he went up to your place… he wouldn’t be leaving you there alone. 

You were clearly exhausted and it would be selfish of him not to let you sleep. Even if he knew you would ask him to stay. 

When he pulled into the small parking garage under your building, you startled awake, like your body recognized the motions of the car and knew instinctively that you were home. 

“Mmm…” You groaned, stretching your arms and rolling your neck. “Home already? That was fast.” 

He chuckled as he put the car in park and threw you a teasing grin. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Considering you slept almost the whole way.” 

Your cheeks turned so red he could see it in the dim light and God did you look beautiful. 

“Sorry, I guess I was a little more tired than I thought.” You murmured. “I haven’t had a goodnight’s sleep in six weeks. So I guess I should’ve been expecting that.” 

“Well, as glad as I am that you got a forty minute nap, you should go upstairs and get some real rest.” He tried to keep the reluctance out of his voice. “Actually, why don’t you take the day off today? We made a great bust and the case is making great progress toward the outcome we’re hoping for, but you can’t go back to the club with us until we’re sure no one will recognize you and know that you were the UC. Which is all we’ll be doing today anyway. So just rest. There’ll be plenty for you to do tomorrow.” 

You gave him a look that he couldn’t quite read and then nodded your head. 

“Okay, I’ll take the day off…” You agreed… too easily… “If you do.” 

There it was.

“I can’t, Sweetheart. If the team goes in I have to go in.” He shook his head. 

“Then give them all the day too. It’s hardly fair if I get to sleep all day and they don’t.” You pointed out. 

“You were the undercover agent, doing physically and mentally demanding work while undercover, and you just told me you barely slept the whole time.” He disagreed. “It’s perfectly fair and technically it’s required by the bureau.” 

“I also know that you all took turns sitting outside the UC nest in your cars so I was never actually completely alone.” You revealed and he frowned. The others weren’t supposed to tell you that, and they better not have told you- “and Spencer said that you took way more than your fair share of turns. Including the night before last which means you haven’t slept in nearly forty eight hours.” 

Spencer…

Hotch sighed. 

“Fine, I will give everyone the day off. Look, I’m texting them right now.” He conceded, pulling out his phone and going to the group chat.  

Don’t come in today, get some rest. -A.H.

He showed you the text as he sent it.

“Happy?” He asked.

You grinned in response. 

“Perfect, now my bed is calling.” You said as you opened the car door and slid down to the ground, closing the door behind you.

When he didn’t follow suit, you walked around to his side and crossed your arms with a frown. 

He rolled down his window.

“You’re not coming up?” You asked, trying to seem nonchalant, but your entire body was giving you away. He hated to disappoint you.

He took a deep breath and sighed. “I really shouldn’t sweetheart. You need to rest.” 

You shrugged. 

“Okay.” You said.

That was easy. 

Too easy.  

You shrugged your way out of his suit jacket and handed it through the window. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow it. See ya tomorrow!” You chirped and started to strut away.

In bright red lingerie, that once again, barely covered anything. 

“What’re you doing?” He called after you, two parts panicked and one part amused. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Going to bed, like you told me too.” You answered over your shoulder. 

You were an indecent exposure charge waiting to happen, and he knew that you knew it. 

“Sweetheart…” He warned, but you didn’t stop. Just kept on heading toward the elevator. Stilettos, half bare ass and all. 

He sighed, got out of the car and followed you.

Jogging to catch up as you held the elevator door with a smug little grin, he went over and over his new plan. 

He wouldn’t go past the threshold. No matter what tricks you pulled. You had to get some sleep, it wasn’t healthy to be this exhausted. 

“Put this back on, would ya?” He said as he made it inside the elevator, draping the jacket back around you without waiting for a response. “You’re gonna catch a charge, or a cold.” 

“It’s summer, and it’s a good thing I know a decent attorney.” You gave him a sly look as you let the doors close and hit the button to your floor. 

Did you mean him? He scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t practice and seeing as I witnessed the crime, I wouldn’t be able to do a very good job of defending you without perjuring myself.” He pointed out, holding back a smile at the thought of trying to defend that in court. 

“Who said I was talking about you?” You asked sassily, and then grinned. “Besides, Hotch, it’s not even five o’clock yet. The only person in this building who’s ever up at ungodly hours like this, is me. So I think I’m safe from that exposure charge.” 

“Aaron, and did you consider the fact that you’re on camera?” He countered.

You opened your mouth to respond, took a breath and then closed it again. Scrunching your face up in thought for a moment. 

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath, and he could not help but laugh. Then you shrugged. “Well, the security guard on duty is probably having the night of his life right now and wishing the jacket would fall back off so he can get his rocks—Wait, what did you say?” 

He smiled softly at you. 

“Aaron, when we’re not working, you can call me Aaron.” He explained. “It’s nice to hear it sometimes from someone other than Dave. Especially if that someone is you.” 

He knew his plan was fucked the second he said the last part. He could see it in your eyes, in your stance, in the way your breath pattern had quickened. He could feel it, in his own pulse, and sweaty palms. The way his chest felt a little too tight. He could swear the temperature in the elevator rose ten degrees from one floor to the next, and his heart was pounding out of control. 

He felt himself being drawn into your gravity, moving closer to you without consciously deciding to do it. If he kissed you… he wasn’t leaving here tonight. This morning actually, but semantics. 

“Okay, Aaron.” You said it so sweetly, yet so enticingly all at once, and he was so close to his breaking point. 

Then the elevator chimed and the door slid open. A cool draft washing over you both and snapping him out of it. 

He cleared his throat. 

“After you.” He murmured and he could hear the desire in his own voice so clearly that there was no way you had missed it.

The smirk on your perfect lips told him you’d indeed caught it, and were going to exploit it. 

He followed you a short way down the hall, until you stopped in front of a door with a keypad on the front. 

“This one’s mine.” You said as you punched in the code and pushed the door open. 

****************************************************************

The familiar smell of home hit you hard as you stepped over the threshold into your studio apartment. 

You hadn’t been here in six weeks and you’d missed the place. Your bed was waiting for you on the back wall, and was so tempting. 

But not nearly as tempting as the man hesitating in the hall behind you. 

You turned and looked back at him with a very coy smile. 

“You gonna lurk in the doorway, or are you gonna come inside?” You teased.

“I really shouldn’t.” He murmured, looking all broody and conflicted. Hot.

“I could make you some coffee for the drive home.” You offered, not caring at all for coffee because you knew he wasn’t going home.

“We both know that if I go in there, I’m not leaving.” He reasoned, sticking firmly to his guns. “You need to rest, I can get coffee down the street.” 

“Oh I intend to… eventually .” You purred, beckoning him towards you with one finger. “Sure you don’t want just one cup?” 

“And there’s really a whole conversation we should have, before… anything happens.” He continued to act like he was actually going to leave, even though you both knew he wasn’t. “I’m a firm believer in informed consent, sweetheart, and I already crossed that line once.” 

You nodded with your face pinched dramatically like it was the most serious thing in the world. 

“You mean the conversation where you tell me: ‘There has to be balance in this relationship for it to work, because I’m your boss and you’re my subordinate and even if I didn’t intend to, I could take advantage of you. I would never do it on purpose but just in case there would need to be provisions in place…’ blah blah blah… I completely understand and agree.” You mimicked his expressions and his speaking cadence and then you couldn’t help yourself, you cracked a smile. “I’m not naïve, Aaron… consider me informed and consenting.” 

He was holding back a smile of his own and you knew you’d won, he just needed a little push. 

“You really should be in bed, baby.” He tried one last time. 

You chuckled softly. He just kept setting you up so perfectly. 

“If you insist.” You purred. 

Slowly, you let his suit jacket slip off your shoulders and fall to the floor. 

“Sweetheart…” His voice held just a slight note of warning, possibly pleading? 

You weren’t sure because you weren’t looking at him. You’d turned around and started toward your bed.

Shedding your lingerie as you went. 

You’d gotten very good at taking off your clothes on the go.

“Don’t mind me Aaron, just getting a little more comfortable for bed.” You cooed.

First, went the babydoll top, up over your head and thrown somewhere in the vicinity of the couch. 

You took a few more steps and down came your panties. Making sure to give him a good eyeful of ass and pussy as you bent down to step out of them and toss them to the side. 

“There, that’s better.” You sighed contentedly, and continued towards your bed. “Ya know, these shoes are pretty hard to unbuckle on my own… I might need a little help.” 

“Fuck it.” You heard the door click shut, the lock engage and then there were warm hands on your bare waist, turning you to face him. 

You smiled victoriously. 

“The shoes stay on.” He murmured, and then he tossed you onto the bed with no more effort than if he were throwing a pillow. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he rolled up his sleeves, his eyes roving over you like he was starved and you were a feast he couldn’t wait to dig into. 

But, God, was he taking his sweet time. 

He stood over you and studied you, like he was memorizing every little detail of your body—or deciding where to start.

Your ankles were apparently the winner of the internal debate. 

He knelt on the floor in front of you and took them both in his hands, placing a kiss on the inside of each one.

Then he laid kisses on your calves, and the insides of your knees, he trailed kisses up your thighs until you could feel his breath on your pussy. 

You tensed in anticipation of his mouth finally finding its mark, but it landed on your hip bone instead. And then the other.

A frustrated whine worked its way up your throat and he chuckled at the sound. 

“I know patience isn’t your strong suit, sweetheart, but I’ve been thinking about this for so long… I’m going to take my time with you.” He murmured against the soft skin just below your belly button. 

He dropped a kiss there and then skimmed his lips up the plain of your stomach, his warm breath sending goosebumps scattering in its wake. His hands had traveled to your ribs and he stroked them with the tips of his fingers, dragging them down as though he were plucking the strings of a guitar. 

Which was ironic, because he’d barely started and yet he was playing your body like a finely tuned instrument. 

He kissed, nipped, and sucked his way over the curves of your breasts, drawing small gasps and moans from you as he went. 

His hands wrapped around your upper arms and caressed the length of them as he drew them together at your wrists above your head. Clasping them in one hand and running his fingers through your hair with the other. Then down over your shoulder, gliding over your collarbone with his thumb, skimming the top of your breast with the backs of his fingers. 

“Stunning.” He murmured, drinking you in before bringing his lips to your neck. 

Leaving you completely breathless as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots. How he was finding them so effortlessly, you didn’t know, and frankly did not care. Until he sank his teeth—ever so gently—into your throat, his tongue laving at the place where your pulse thrummed. 

You didn’t have time to wonder if he could feel it. 

Pounding, thundering, racing out of control. 

Because now, he was tracing up your jaw with the tip of his nose, leaving soft kisses in its path. He kissed the curve where your jaw met your neck and then tugged lightly on the lobe of your ear with his teeth. 

“Aaron, please , I can’t take it anymore, it’s been two weeks of waiting for this. Give me something .” You pleaded on a shaky breath. 

You felt him smile against your cheek. 

“I think we both know it’s been a lot longer than two weeks…” His soft voice flowing over you like lava. “Hasn’t it, sweetheart?” 

His hand, which had been resting just beneath your breast, skimmed the bottom swell of it with his thumb before trailing—so slowly you thought you’d die before he got there—down your abdomen. 

You couldn’t fucking breathe, so you weren’t sure how he expected you to speak, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just continued to drive your heart rate through the roof with his voice and the trajectory of his wandering hand. 

“Hmm? How many months has it been since you even thought about another man? Three? Four? Five? I won’t flatter myself and say six… not even when I’m just as guilty…” He purred, that hand steadily roaming south. “Not when I’ve been thinking of you for seven at the very least. I can’t even pinpoint when it started. Or maybe I can? Maybe it was the first time I saw you in red? A pretty silk blouse that hugged your curves so perfectly. You were radiant. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. Thinking about all the ways I could take it off of you was torture.” 

He started to follow his hand with his mouth, slowly. 

“What was it for you, baby? What caught your attention?” He asked, kissing his way down the opposite side of your neck, and letting his tongue explore the hills and valleys of your collarbones around the base of your throat. “What do you think about when you’re alone? Is it my hands? The way they would feel on your skin?” 

The hand in question had finally made it to the rise of your hip bone, where it started to turn so that his fingers were leading the way. 

You were practically shaking in anticipation, every erogenous zone on your person was throbbing, begging, for contact as he had deftly avoided them.  

“Is it my voice? The way I might speak to you? You definitely seem to like that…” He continued, and he was right.

His voice was driving you crazy, the low, smooth rumble that you heard in your sleep every night for the last two weeks. 

“I’ll tell you mine…” He whispered, his hand inching so slowly toward your clit. “It’s the little details that haunt me the most. The way the sunlight catches your hair and the way it moves in the breeze. The way your hips sway as you walk, the way you furrow your brow when you’re confused, the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something. God, how I’ve longed to bite that lip myself.” 

He paused, his hand hovering just a fraction of an inch away from where you desperately wanted him, and pulled back to look you in the eyes. 

“I know there’s something you think about, there has to be… do you know why?” He asked, and this time he waited for you to answer him. So you shook your head no, because you didn’t know why. “Because I heard the way you said my name when you came on my thigh. Like you’d said it just like that a thousand times. So tell me, pretty girl. Do you cry out my name when you touch yourself at night?” 

Holy fucking hell, he was going to kill you with his silver tongue. 

You couldn’t come up with a coherent response, your brain had once again abandoned you. As it seemed to do whenever this man was so close to you. 

“I’m waiting on an answer, sweetheart, yes or no, do you say my name as you make yourself come?” He repeated himself. “Tell me the truth and I’ll give you what you need.” 

“Yes.” You whispered, unsure that you’d be able to say more if you tried. 

“Yes what, baby?” He teased, tapping his finger once against the skin just above your clit, making you squirm. Annoying you just enough that you suddenly regained control of your tongue. 

“Yes, I say your name when I come! I’ll fucking scream it you want me to, just touch me!” You begged and he smiled.

“Now there’s an idea…” he said smugly. 

You opened your mouth to respond, just as his fingers finally met your clit. The response fled your mind and a moan came out instead. 

He smirked down at you like the smug bastard you were starting to realize he was.                    (Though somehow it suited him and only made him hotter???)

“Oh I’m sorry, Honey, were you gonna say something?” He snickered as his finger finally started rubbing your clit in perfect little circles at the exact pace you would have done yourself. “I can stop if that will help you get the words out?”

“No! Please- Don’t- Don’t stop!” You gasped as he added a little more pressure. 

“Okay…” He murmured through a sly grin. “As long as you’re sure? Definitely wouldn’t want you to think I did that on purpose…” 

He started to move then, lowering himself so his face was over your chest instead of your head.

“I’m fucking sure!” You whined as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, drawing on it hard. “God, just- I- please don’t stop!” 

He huffed a soft laugh and as he moved to the other nipple he muttered, “Didn’t plan on it.”

He took his time, leisurely going back and forth between your nipples. Licking and sucking as he continued to work your clit with precision, until he had you writhing and whimpering beneath him all over again. 

You were aching to touch him, to feel the firmness of his chest and the strength of his arms. You wanted to know what it would be like to bury your hands in his hair, and maybe pull a little. 

Alas, he still held your wrists firmly in his grip.

“Aaron, can- um- can you let go of my hands?” You asked quietly, awkwardly, and then tacked on, “Please?”

He paused and sat up, releasing you immediately. 

“Was I hurting you, sweetheart?” He asked, concern written all over his face.

“What? No!” You sat up as well, reaching for him but stopping yourself just shy of grabbing his shirt. “No, that’s not- I just- I just wanted my hands free so I could touch you.” 

“Oh.” The concern melted away and you could tell he was holding back a smile. 

He reached out and cupped the side of your face, and the way he was looking at you…

“Kiss me.” 

You almost didn’t even realize you’d said it— it was a breath, a whisper, barely audible—until he gathered you up in his arms and his warm lips landed on yours.  

It was frantic and desperate, a little sloppy, and so passionate it would have knocked you over had he not been holding you up.    

The fabric of his shirt was soft against your bare skin, but it was an unwanted barrier between you. You started fumbling with the buttons, the top two already undone from when he had ditched his tie hours ago. 

It turned out that it was slightly harder to undo buttons you couldn’t see with shaky fingers. Especially when you were so anxious to get to what was beneath them. 

“Help me- mmm- get this off.” You demanded, barely breaking away from his lips as you kept fumbling with the buttons near the top.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

He—much more calmly than you—began working on the ones at the bottom meeting you in the middle. When your hands bumped into each other, you decided he was taking much too long. Batting him away from the last button, you hurried to undo it, then forced the sleeves down his arms and tugged at it frustratedly when they got stuck at his elbows.

Aaron laughed, shaking his head, and helped you get the shirt off completely.  

“No patience…” He murmured in quiet amusement.

You didn’t see what was so funny, but you couldn’t find a single reason to care now that you had skin to explore. 

You let your hands—and lips—roam, his chest, his arms, his back and stomach. You counted every rib and kissed every scar, until you had him memorized. 

He let you, sitting on his knees in the center of the bed, he patiently watched as you made yourself familiar with his body. 

Until you kissed your way up his chest and neck, all the back to his lips and then settled yourself on his lap. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you threaded your fingers into his hair and kissed him like he was the center of your universe. 

And in that moment, he wasn’t just the center, he was the force that held it together. 

You had almost forgotten the endgame you had been so desperate for, so caught up in learning him that your urgency had faded into the background. 

His urgency, however, was waging a war with the zipper of his pants, and was making itself known to you by way of pressing up against your very bare, very sensitive pussy. You rolled your hips against it once, and the sound that he made was so carnal you couldn’t wait to hear it again. 

So you repeated the motion, and sure enough the sound made an encore. 

“Fuck, sweetheart , if you keep that up…” He groaned against your lips. 

“I have a better idea.” You murmured back, then kissed and nipped your way down his throat, then his chest, climbing off of his lap and continuing your way down his stomach. 

Your hands slid down the same path until they found their intended target; his belt buckle. 

This time there was no fumbling, and the only shaky fingers were his as he tilted your chin up. Looking down at you with a mixture of excitement, trepidation, and adoration.

“You don’t have to-”

“I actually think it's vital to my sanity.” You disagreed, working on his button and zipper. 

He scoffed at your dramatics. 

“In that case, by all means, carry on.” He quipped, but his voice sounded more and more strained by the second. 

“Lay down.” You murmured, moving back to give him room and pointing where you wanted him to go. 

He obeyed without a word, and as soon as he was settled you worked his slacks down over his hips, stripped them down his legs—gently taking off his shoes—and tossed the whole pile to the floor. 

His boxers did nothing to hide what was so clearly standing at attention beneath them. 

Holy…

The man was packing…

You tried not to react, not to let your face show anything you were thinking, but goddamn, a girl had to wonder where all that was gonna fit. 

And of course, since he was the best profiler you’d ever met… 

“You don’t have to sweetheart, really, I’m fine to just take care of you.” He offered one more time but his voice cracked and there was a tiny wet patch growing on the front of his shorts. 

You cleared your throat, snapping out of your little trance and grinned. 

“What? You don’t think I can handle it?” You joked. 

He held back a grin of his own and raised a brow at you. 

“Baby, you look like you don’t think you can handle it.” He replied. 

And you took that personally. 

“I’m always up for a challenge…” You smirked, crawling from his feet to his waist. 

He watched you with heated eyes as you reached for the waistband of his boxers and slid your fingers beneath the edge. 

As you pulled them down, you made sure to take your time, dragging them lightly against the length of him and earning a sharp gasp as a reward. You paid little attention to where the shorts landed as you threw them behind you. 

It stood tall and—from the look of it—was a bit more than you could wrap your hand around, but you would not be deterred. 

You also decided to get a little payback, given that he’d teased you for ages. Granted, you didn’t have near the patience that he did (which is probably why you still hadn’t came), but still…

You laid a hand on his thigh, running it up his leg at a torturous pace and when you finally reached it you gripped the base and pumped it even slower. 

Once, twice, three times. 

He groaned, a sound you knew you’d hear in your dreams for the rest of your life. 

**********************************************************

You were going to be the death of him…  

Of that much he was sure as you pumped your pretty hand up and down his shaft. He’d thought about this a thousand—maybe even ten thousand—times in the last two weeks.

Scratch that, the last several months, that was a more accurate description. 

Yet, somehow, the real thing exceeded anything he could’ve imagined. 

Your hand gripped him so well, and the way you looked while doing it… well, he wasn’t sure he was going to last. 

Then you leaned forward, and he watched in awe as you stuck out your pretty pink tongue and licked the bead of precum off the tip, just as it started to drip down the side.

“Fuck…”  He hissed out a breath, your tongue was hot and wet and it had him on the verge of begging.

“That’s the idea…” You murmured, a sly little grin forming on your lips for a brief moment… before you wrapped them around his cock and took him all the way to the back of your throat. 

Your mouth was made of silk, he was certain, and—God help him—he was already addicted to it. 

“You feel so perfect, pretty girl. You’re incredible.” He praised, reaching over and stroking your calf with the back of his hand. 

You drew yourself back off of him, until only the head was in your mouth, and then you wrapped your hand around the base, using both in tandem to make a rhythm that was purely meant to torture him. 

“That’s my girl, just like that, baby.” He could hardly get the words out but he knew how much you loved for him to talk you through it. “Look at you… You’re taking me so well, sweetheart, and you look so pretty doing it.” 

He knew that there was not a world in which he ever recovered from this. There was no going back to the ignorant bliss of not knowing what it feels like to have your mouth on his cock. He would never be able to forget the perfection that was the sight of your lips—still red with faded lipstick—bobbing up and down it. It was the second most beautiful scene he’d ever witnessed. 

The first, was the face you made when you came, and he intended to see it several more times before this was over. 

“Such a good girl , sucking my cock like you can’t get enough.” He trailed his fingers up your leg and then over your ribs. “So fucking beautiful.” 

He fisted his hands in the bedding, and clenched his jaw as you moaned around him, and he knew he needed something to distract him from the pleasure or this show would be over. 

He looked around and his eyes landed on your ass— high in the air—and at this angle, he could see your pussy too… and it was nearly dripping. He groaned just at the sight of it, and knew exactly how he was going to keep himself busy while you had your fun. 

“Baby, I have to taste you or I might lose my mind.” He warned you, right before he took you by the thighs and hauled your legs up, so your knees rested just above his shoulders. Making you squeal. Your pussy hovered just above his face now. 

“But I wasn’t done yet!” You protested. 

“I never said you had to stop.” He smiled to himself as he pulled your hips down so that you were firmly sat on his face. 

He would happily die, just like this, if you’d let him. 

Could he breathe?

Barely.

Did he care?

Not one bit.

You tasted exquisite, just like he knew you would. 

He lapped at your entrance as though he were starved and you were the finest meal he’d ever eaten. 

Nothing could convince him you weren’t. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth and kept light suction on it as he flicked it with the tip of his tongue. 

You squirmed against him, and while he didn’t mind you rubbing your perfect cunt on his face, it made his job a little difficult… 

So he placed one hand on the small of your back and held you down tightly to his mouth. Then, because his other hand was free, he slid a finger into your pussy and thrusted it in and out slowly. 

You moaned around the head of his dick and clenched around his finger so tightly, he couldn’t wait to feel it with his cock instead. 

But first…

He really wanted to make you come on his face. 

He hated that he wouldn’t be able to see the look on yours when it happened… but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. 

So he doubled down. 

Adding a second finger to your pussy, and sucking just a bit harder on your clit, he worked his tongue with an eagerness he could feel you reciprocating with your own mouth. 

And if you could still do that, then he wasn’t doing a good enough job. 

But then he found the sensitive spot, maybe two inches inside the entrance, and he rubbed the pads of his fingers against it in time with the flicking of his tongue.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop.” You whimpered, having released him from your mouth, pumping him with your hand instead but he couldn’t have cared less about that. “I’m so fucking close.” 

He didn’t dare change a thing. 

Not when his wrist started to ache.

Not when his jaw locked up.

Not even when his tongue began to cramp. 

Your walls started to flutter around his fingers, your thighs started to shake, and your cries got louder and louder, until finally you collapsed against his face with nearly a scream of, “Aaron!” 

He’d never heard a more beautiful sound. 

He was smiling proudly as he licked at your sensitive clit until you recovered enough to move away on wobbly legs, and collapse to your belly next to him on the bed. Your knees resting by his head and your feet leaning against the headboard. 

He laid his dry hand on your ass and gave it a firm squeeze as he licked the product of your orgasm off the other, savoring the taste of you. Then smirking to himself when you hummed in contentment. 

“I think I just saw God.” Your voice—muffled by the comforter as you were laying face down—made him laugh quietly. “Everything went white, but then I closed my eyes and there were tiny little spots of color everywhere. It was pretty.” 

He smiled, rolling his eyes fondly at your antics. Then he sat up, got to his knees, and gently rolled you over onto your back, settling between your legs. But he made no move to fuck you. 

Not yet, even though he was aching—throbbing—to be inside you. 

“Are you okay, pretty girl?” He murmured, gently brushing your hair out of your face. 

You smiled up at him, eyes full of adoration and a bit of mischief.

“I’m so okay, that I want to taste myself on your lips while you fuck me.” You said, so boldly it nearly gave him a heart attack. 

He dropped his forehead to your chest and groaned, “Sweetheart, you’re killing me.” 

You giggled as he peppered your breasts, chest and neck with kisses.

Kisses that grew more and more heated the closer he got to your lips. 

“You can have whatever you want, as long as I get to see your pretty face the next time I make you come.” He promised quietly in your ear. 

“I think I can live with that.” You breathed, your hands snaking around his back and pulling him closer. 

He grinned against your cheek, pressing another kiss there and murmured, “Oh you do, huh?” 

You nodded and then…

“Aaron?” 

“Sweetheart?”

“Fuck me, now please.” 

He finally kissed your lips as he lined himself up and gently pressed into you until he was buried to the base inside you.

**********************************************************

Time stopped—you knew that beyond a doubt—when Aaron finally slid into you. 

You moaned against his lips, where you could taste the remnants of your own pleasure, and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Your red bottomed heels pressing into his lower back as he bottomed out inside you. 

He paused then, letting you adjust, or maybe just basking in the moment, you weren’t sure… 

“Are you okay?” He asked again, solving that internal debate for you, then kissing you softly again. 

“I’m perfect.” You sighed blissfully, kissing him back and threading your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Yes you fucking are…” His voice rumbled through you, making you clench around and arch up into him. “Fuck…” 

And then he started to move, slowly thrusting in and out of you, like he had all the time in the world…

Or at least all day. 

The stretch was like nothing you’d ever felt in your life, and the faster he moved, the better it got. Until he found a steady rhythm. You matched him, thrust for thrust, and each time he hit just right inside you. 

You could feel every single inch of him, and it was pure magic, you swore. It was everything you’d dreamed it would be and more. 

Just because it was him. 

No one had taken such care with you before, and not a single man would ever hold a candle to him again. It wasn’t even over yet, and you already knew that as fact. 

You were completely ruined. 

Spoiled even. 

And you would’ve been content to lay there, and let him fuck you into the mattress until you were both completely sated… but you remembered something he said to you in the private room two weeks prior. 

Something that made your heart rate skyrocket. 

“Look at you, looking so beautiful like this. I can’t wait to take you home and let you ride me, pretty girl.” He’d said. 

You felt yourself get even wetter just thinking about it. 

You kissed him again, biting his bottom lip, and then you used his hair to pull his head gently back so you could see his face. 

“I wanna ride you.” You murmured. 

He smiled and did not hesitate to roll onto his back, with you still impaled on his cock, simply taking you with him so that you were straddling him.

You kissed him thoroughly again, getting another taste of your cum on his lips, and moaned.

Then you sat up straight, even leaned back slightly, taking him so much deeper at this new angle, and you both moaned in unison as you rolled your hips slowly, let your head fall back and closed your eyes. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now, pretty girl, riding me like this… you look like an angel or a goddess.” He gushed, sliding his hands up your thighs to your waist. “Taking my cock so well, like you were meant to ride it.” 

His words got your blood up, racing through your veins like acid. 

That familiar knot started to tighten in your core again. 

“Fuck, Aaron, I love it when you talk like that.”  You groaned as you slid yourself up and down his shaft. 

“Hmm, and I love the way your pussy drips for me when I do.” He spurred you on, using his silver tongue like the lethal weapon it was. “Such a perfect pussy too, so wet and tight for me… so fucking perfect.” 

You whined and involuntarily clenched around him, pulling a moan from him as well. Then his hands were traveling up your stomach to your breasts. Taking both in his hands and squeezing, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over your nipples. 

“And look at these tits, fitting in my hands like they were made for them… so beautiful.” He rasped, and you wondered if he was as close to the edge as you were. 

The furrow in his brow and the tightness of his jaw told you that he was. One hand slid down your stomach, his thumb easily locating your clit and rolling it in time with your hips. 

You cried out, the tightness in your core expanding and contracting until you almost couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I know baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you can let go.” He soothed. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do it.” 

You gripped his shoulders tightly to leverage yourself, as your knees started to get weak.

“I’m so close.” You whined, desperately throwing yourself up and down his cock. “Aaron… I- I need…” 

He didn’t need to hear the answer, he just started to thrust up into you. Matching your speed perfectly. 

“You’ve got it, pretty girl, just breathe and let go. I’ll catch you when you fall.” He promised, his voice like velvet to your ears. “Come for me baby, come all over my cock, I wanna feel every pulse.”

And that was what sent you spiraling into oblivion. 

It was like every nerve ending in your body exploded and your head was full of clouds. You could feel tears running down your face and you didn’t even know why, because you felt euphoric. This had to be the hardest you’d ever come in your life, your pussy spasming so hard around him that if you’d had the mental energy, you might’ve worried that it hurt him. 

“Aaron!” You gasped, unable to breathe let alone scream. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He gritted out, trying to be comforting, but his own orgasm was barreling toward him, and you were pretty sure he was doing everything he could to hold it back. “I’m about to come, pretty girl, where do you—“ 

“Inside.” You blurted, without thinking twice about it. “Inside me, please I wanna feel it!” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m- ahh” 

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing in a heap on top of him as warmth spilled into you. 

You didn’t even have a moment to process what had happened before exhaustion overtook you, and you passed out cold on his chest. 

**********************************************************

Hotch was pretty sure he was in a state of mild shock as he laid there, panting beneath you. 

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t speak.

He just was. 

Or was he? 

He was almost certain he’d just had an out of body experience. 

It took him almost five minutes to regain the ability to function like a normal human being, but he wasn’t in any hurry. You hadn’t moved yet either. 

So he wrapped his arms around you, content to let you lay there as long as you needed, simply stroking your back and murmuring soft, nonsensical words of comfort in your ear. 

It took him several more minutes to realize that you’d fallen asleep. With him still inside you. 

“Sweetheart?” He tried, not really having the heart to wake you but knowing you needed at least to use the bathroom before you passed out. “Baby, wake up…” 

You whimpered softly and he stroked your cheek tenderly with the backs of his fingers. 

Then sighed. 

You were exhausted… and so was he, but the least he could do was clean you up a little before he fell asleep beside you. 

Trying his best not to jar you too much, he rolled you gently off his chest and onto your back on the mattress. 

The separation was almost painful as he slid out of you, but he bit his lip and didn’t make a sound. Not that it mattered, you were out cold. 

He stood up and really took a look around the apartment for the first time since he’d been there. It suited you, he could see your personality everywhere he looked and it made him smile. 

Considering this was a studio apartment, he could only assume that the one other door in the room led to the bathroom. 

He took a few minutes to rinse himself off, and then he got a warm washcloth and went back out to you.

He carefully cleaned you up as best as he could without waking you. Taking the time to make sure he got all the remnants of himself off of you. Well… the fluid ones anyway. 

As it turned out, he may have left a few marks here and there with his mouth. 

The exhaustion was weighing heavily on him, but he still took the time to make sure he’d locked the door when he’d finally given up on leaving and came inside. (He had.) Then he moved his pistols from where he’d left them, on the entry table by the door, to the nightstand beside the bed. On his way back to the bed, he noticed his boxers hanging off a lampshade. He gave a little chuckle and collected them too, putting them back on once he’d situated his sidearms. 

Lastly he dug his phone out of his pants pocket on the floor, intending to silence it so it wouldn’t disturb you. 

He discovered, however, that it was already on silent. 

Not only that…

But he had seven missed calls. 

With an eighth ringing through. 

This one was Morgan. 

He answered quickly, thinking it was an emergency. 

“Hotchner.” He said, stepping back towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him so he wouldn’t disturb you. 

“Man we were about to send a search and rescue out for you! Where have you been? We’ve been calling for an hour!” Morgan demanded. 

“At home, sleeping.” Hotch lied. “What’s happened?” 

“You tell me!” Morgan returned. “The bureau called Garcia and said your SUV had never made it back to Quantico. They said they called and you didn’t answer, so she called and you didn’t answer. Then she called me and I called you, no answer. By that point, she’d already texted the group chat and the others took turns calling you, none of which you answered. So here I am, calling for the last time, before we were all gonna gear up to come find you two!” 

“Two?” Hotch asked. 

“Foxy Loxy isn’t answering her phone either, and the last time we saw either of you, you were together in the missing SUV. You do the math.” Morgan said, a little more sarcastically than Aaron cared for, but he was too tired to deal with it. 

“We’re fine, I left her securely locked inside her apartment, with the alarm set, and then I came home. I’ve been asleep. Just like I’m sure she is.” The lies flowed off his tongue easier than he’d like to admit. 

“Then why does the SUVs GPS tracking system say it’s still at her place?” Derek sounded more amused than suspicious at this point. 

“Because I was exhausted, so she called me a cab and I left the SUV in the gated parking garage under her building.” Hotch thought of the easiest way to explain that without giving himself away. “She’s gonna take it back when she wakes up, and I’m taking a cab to the office tomorrow.” 

“You sure?” Derek asked one more time, his inflection giving clear indication of amusement.

“Yes, I’m sure! What is wrong with you? Can I go back to bed now?” Hotch snapped, a little harsher than necessary.

However to be fair, it was nearly eight in the morning, which meant you and he had been at it for nearly three hours… and he had been up since eight the previous morning, so he was beyond manners. 

Derek cleared his throat. 

“We pinged your phone, Hotch…” He explained. 

“Fuck.” Aaron muttered. 

“You wanna explain why you’re still at her place? Or should we connect the dots?” Morgan teased. 

“I’m hanging up now.” Hotch said.

“But we’ll discuss it later right?” Morgan asked, already laughing. “Hotch? Hotch, come on man!”

Aaron disconnected the call and drug his hand down his face. 

This was tomorrow’s problem. 

He turned his phone off, walking back out into your main room.

He stood there for a moment, studying your soft form laying on the bed, and he smiled. 

You were worth the headache waiting for him tomorrow.

So he leaned down, unbuckled your red bottom heels, sitting them on the floor and he crawled back into bed with you. Pulling you close and burying his face in your neck. 

It took him less than a minute to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Your eyes refused to open, your head felt so heavy and your brain seemed to be made of cotton. Not only were you unsure where you were, you didn’t know what day it was, or what year. 

You did know, however, that there was a second body in this bed with you. Strong arms held you close, and warm breath stirred your hair. 

You forced your eyelids to cooperate, and peeked down at the dark head of hair nestled into your neck. From this angle it looked like…

Hotch . 

Everything came rushing back to you at once and what you remembered… was the best morning of your life.  

He had absolutely rocked your world. You had known it would be good… but that was… Wow.

He was sleeping peacefully so you didn’t want to wake him, but you wanted to know what time it was. There was no sunlight coming through the windows, only the dim glow coming from the street lamps on the sidewalk. It was night. You’d slept all day. 

Wait. 

When had you fallen asleep?

The last thing you remembered was… 

Oh God.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and suddenly you were very glad that you had woken up first. 

You had fallen asleep with his dick still inside you. 

Which was mortifying. However, to be completely fair, the man had completely exhausted you and you’d already been over tired to begin with. 

You wondered again what time it was. 

Your phone should have been laying on the nightstand closest to you, so you carefully untangled your arm from Aaron’s and reached blindly for it. Patting around the table top until you found it. 

Powering it on, you had to wait nearly five minutes for it to stop buzzing with six weeks worth of notifications. 

It was nearly nine o’clock. 

You didn’t know what time you’d fallen asleep, but you knew you’d been asleep for over ten hours. 

You were starting to go through your messages and respond to emails and such, when the phone began to ring. 

You panic-answered it, not wanting the noise to wake Aaron. You didn’t even check to see who it was.

That was a mistake.  

“Hello?” You rasped into the phone. 

“Omg, did we wake you?” You’d recognize Penelope’s voice anywhere. 

“No, I was awake. Who’s we?” You murmured. 

“Morn’n sleeping beauty.“ Emily drawled. 

“How are you feeling?” JJ chimed in with concern, which you appreciated. 

“Who me? I’m fantastic.” You replied quietly, smirking to yourself as you glanced down at the sleeping man whose head was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“Oh, I bet you are.” Emily said, teasingly and your brows drew together. 

Your confusion only grew when the others giggled quietly in the background. 

“Am I missing something here?” You queried. 

Aaron groaned softly in his sleep and you coughed to cover it, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. 

JJ cleared her throat. 

“How’s Hotch?” She asked, a bit mischievously. 

You almost panicked, but you knew there was almost no way they could have heard him, and an even slimmer chance that they recognized his voice from one sleepy groan. 

“Last I saw him was this morning around five. He was headed home, so I haven’t the slightest. Why?” You tried not to sound guilty. 

“Really? Cause we thought he must’ve just crashed at your place.” Emily pushed. 

What the hell was going on?

“Nope. I offered, the poor guy was beat. You know him though, he politely—but firmly—declined and then went home.” You lied, whispering softly, and then to make yourself feel a little better, told one truth. “Wouldn’t even accept a cup of coffee for the ride home.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like Hotch.” JJ agreed. 

You relaxed slightly. 

“We’re a little confused though.” Garcia piped up. 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm hmm.” She hummed. “Hotch hasn’t been answering his phone all day and the SUV never made it back to Quantico. So we just assumed…” 

Shit. You hadn’t thought about that.

“Oh, well he was probably too tired to make that drive so he must have just gone straight home.” You murmured dismissively. “It’s not like him not to answer the phone though. He’s probably still sleeping, I wouldn’t bother him.”

“Is that why you’re whispering?” Emily’s tone was full of glee.  

“No…” You hissed. “I told you, he’s not here, he left this morning. My cat is sleeping on my lap, if you must know why I’m whispering. And even if Hotch was here, why is that such a big deal? He was exhausted.”

You didn’t know where the hell you came up with the idea of a cat… you didn’t even have a cat. But it was the first thing that popped into your mind, and it was better than the alternative.

Aaron stirred again, his arms tightening around you. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Well, we tracked the SUV and his phone.” Penelope admitted. Fuck. Think fast, think fast, think fast. “They’re both at your apartment.”

The jacket!

“Just a second let me check something.” You murmured, then waited thirty seconds. “Oh my God, his phone was in the pocket of his suit jacket. I wore it home, remember? Cause I was… underdressed . Yeah I have it. I’ll bring it to him in the morning.” 

“And the SUV?” JJ prompted. 

“I have no idea, maybe he called a cab. Or slept downstairs inside it like the stubborn mule he is.” You joked, and suddenly there was a hand moving slowly down your bare stomach.

Was he awake?

The girls laughed, but you were no longer focused on them. 

 “Wait, you have a cat?” Penelope asked excitedly. “Since when?!”

“Uh, yeah…” You said distractedly, because that hand was now between your legs gripping the thigh closest to him and pulling it up over his legs. Effectively giving himself access to what he seemed to be after. “I got it a couple months ago.” 

You gasped involuntarily as a finger found your clit. Circling it lightly. 

“You okay?” Emily asked. 

You cleared your throat.

“Yeah, I just remembered that I need to pay my neighbor, Marge, for taking care of the cat while I was gone.” You lied, through your teeth, which you were now clenching tightly to keep from making any obvious sounds. 

The finger started to roam again, from your clit, down to your entrance. Teasing at it playfully. 

“I want pictures!” Penelope demanded. 

“Pictures?” You choked out as the finger slipped inside you. 

“Of the kitty!” She exclaimed. “Jesus, are you alright? You sound… distracted .” 

You should have seen that coming, honestly. Of course she wanted pictures of the nonexistent cat!

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied.  

You were not fine.  

Aaron’s finger was pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, doing nothing but tormenting you with the barest tease of what you now knew he was capable of doing to you.

“I don’t have any pictures of the cat, I got him right before I went undercover, I never even decided on a name.” You bluffed. 

“That poor baby!” She cooed, as if the “cat” could hear her. “Take a picture and send it to us! We’ll help you name him!” 

Shit.

“I can’t right now Pen.” You said, biting back a whine as he curled that finger just so. “He’s all curled up in my lap and I can’t see his face. If I move him he’ll wake up and you know the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t move until the cat does…” She grumbles.

“ExactLYY!!” You yelped involuntarily as Aaron slid a second finger into your pussy. 

That made him finally look up at you with a smirk on his face, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“What are you doing?!?” You mouthed, and he had the audacity to shush you silently. 

“Are you alright?” JJ asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You hissed, then looked pointedly at Aaron and said, “The little fucker just dug his claws into me in his sleep and it caught me off guard.” 

The smirk on his face and the mischief in his eyes only grew, as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you. Leisurely, as though this was the most normal thing in the world and three of your coworkers–and best friends–weren’t on the phone. 

“Uh huh…” JJ muttered, and she didn’t sound convinced. “Well we were actually wondering if you wanted to join us? We were having a little girl’s night, we tried to call you but your phone kept going to voicemail.”

“Oh, yeah, I just turned it back on… but ya know, I’m still really tired, so I think I’m just gonna stay in.” You feigned a yawn to sound convincing. Then made direct eye contact with Aaron. “It was a rough night and then a long morning. When I got home, the cat was really excited to see me. So I knew I would have to play with him before I could get any rest, and let me tell you, he has stamina for his age.”

Aaron scowled down at you playfully, and then he started to move. Pulling his fingers out of you so slowly you could hardly contain yourself. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. 

“Oh is he old?” Penelope asked. 

“He’s practically geriatric.” You quipped.

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead, as though he were saying ‘oh really?’ and then, he simply disappeared beneath the covers. 

Oh fuck.

“Awww I wanna see him…” Penelope whined. 

You could feel Aaron’s breath on your pussy. 

“They say cats get tamer and less playful with age… less gullible… not this one though. Dangle a toy in front of him and he’ll chase it everytime.” You said, and you knew that Aaron knew you were teasing him because he chose that moment to lick a stripe up your pussy. 

You let out a strangled laugh. 

“Well we hate to leave you out.” JJ tried again. “What if we came over there instead?”

Your eyes shot wide. 

“Yeah we could bring dinner! And wine!” Emily supplied.

“Oh, no. Guys really, I’m exhausted, I wouldn’t be any fun, I just want to lay here in bed and cuddle the cat.” You protested. 

The cat seemed to like that response, and hummed contentedly from between your thighs, before lapping at your clit. 

“What was that?” Emily asked. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in question. 

“I heard something in the background.” She clarified. 

“Uh, my stomach growled, maybe that was it?” You suggested. “You mentioning dinner reminded me that I’m hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate something, sweetie?” JJ asked, sounding concerned and motherly again. 

“Um… I had some sausage for breakfast while I was playing with the cat.” You smirked to yourself.

Aaron snorted a laugh from under the covers.

“There it was again!” Emily exclaimed.

“I heard it too!” Penelope agreed. 

“That was not your stomach either!” Emily continued. “So don’t give me that again!” 

“The cat snored?” You tried weakly, swatting the back of Aaron’s head. 

“Ow?” He protested softly. 

“Shh.” You hushed him, covering the phone mic with your hand. 

His response was to latch his lips onto your clit and suck. 

Which pulled a very startled, very loud, very non explainable sound from your throat in the form of, “ Fuck!” 

“Woah.” JJ said.

“That was a moan.” Emily stated, with no room for dispute.

“That was definitely a moan.” Penelope agreed, excited amusement dripping from her voice. 

“It was not a moan!” You protested. “It was-“ 

“I swear to God, if you give me some bullshit about a cat again I am coming over there and catching you in the lie! There is no cat!” Emily was adamant.

“I- I- it’s- umm-” You stuttered and fumbled for words, but your brain was not currently online. 

Because Aaron had reinserted those two— thick —fingers and was pumping them in and out while sucking on your clit. 

“Oh my God.” Emily muttered, then shouted. “Is Hotch still there?!?!”

“No!” You blurted without thinking it through. 

“So he was there at some point.”  JJ called it out immediately. 

“What? I- no- he-“ you stuttered again. “Hotch was never here!” 

Hotch was most definitely there, and he was making his presence felt more and more every second. He had started to devour you, eating your pussy like a gourmet meal. You could not focus and you were about to cum on his face, for the second time that day.

“Oh she is lying! ” Penelope said excitedly. 

“I- I am not…lying!” You struggled to make the words come out of your mouth. “I don’t know where he is, the last time I saw him was this morning, and there is nothing going on between me and HOTCH!” 

Aaron chose the exact moment you said his name to curl his fingers up against your g-spot and flick your clit with his tongue. So it came out in the most pornographic moan you thought you’d ever heard. 

Especially from yourself.

Aaron hummed around your clit, sounding very pleased with himself. Unfortunately for you, that was all it took to throw you over the edge you’d been riding. You dropped the phone, and it went tumbling off the bed with a thud as you grabbed onto the blanket, clutching it for all you were worth. Biting your lip through what would’ve been a scream, but came out a strangled yelp. 

You could hear Emily calling your name from the floor, and the chaos of Penelope and JJ in the background. But you were more than a little busy riding out the intense orgasm that was pounding through you. 

Aaron licked you through it, lapping at your pussy until it stopped pulsing and your thighs stopped shaking. Then he crawled up and rested his head on your stomach, pulling back the covers so you could see his face. Smirking up at you so smugly you could only lay there and think of ways to make his life hell for this. 

“Are you okay!?!” You could just barely hear Emily from the phone speaker as it was now laying on the floor in the middle of the room. There was nothing you could do about that currently, you were fairly certain your legs weren’t going to work for the next several minutes, and you had no words. You didn’t even know what words were, actually, he had simply tongue fucked you stupid.

Aaron kissed your stomach and then got up and retrieved your phone, putting it on speaker so you could hear Emily and the others. Then he grinned at you.

“Sorry Prentiss, she can’t seem to talk right now…” He said. “The cat must have her tongue.” 

“I FUCKING KNEW-” and then he hung up the call, interrupting her mid sentence. 

You stared up at him in panicked shock. 

“Oh my God, are you cra-” you started and he just laughed shaking his head, so you trailed off, dumbfounded at his lack of concern.

“So I’m a stubborn mule, huh?” He asked with a teasing grin. 

You scowled at him. 

“As if you didn’t already know that about yourself…” You grumbled. “And in my defense, I didn’t know how you would feel about them… knowing … about whatever this is. Apparently, it's not an issue…”

He huffed a laugh. 

“They already knew, Sweetheart.” He knelt down on the edge of the bed and crawled toward you.

“How?” You asked. “We weren’t that obvious last night… were we? I mean you could’ve been a little less handsy—not that it bothered me, cause it didn’t—but other than that…” 

He hovered over you for a minute. 

“I slipped up on the phone with Morgan. He backed me into a corner this morning, just like they did with you. They have known all day.” He murmured, then dropped a kiss to your lips. “So there’s no point in hiding it from them any further.”

You hummed against his lips contentedly. Kissing him twice. 

“The exhibitionism may have been a little much though, don’t you think?” You asked, then looked up at him seriously. “I’m never going to be able to look them in the eyes… ever again . And if they tell Morgan what they heard… The jokes will be unending.” 

He smirked, then kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest… and then came back up to your lips for one more kiss, before he rolled to the side and laid on his back next to you. 

“The jokes were coming regardless, baby. Morgan may not have heard that , but he definitely knows something happened.” He sighed. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. I can tell you, that even though he’ll tease, he won’t tattle. Which, in our situation, is more than we could ask for.”

“The others–” 

“Will be discreet… well… I don’t know if they’re capable of being discreet … But they won’t tell anyone.” He joked. 

You laughed quietly and then you just laid next to him in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

Until you had a thought. 

“Oh my God…” You muttered. “Do you think they told Rossi?” 

He snorted. 

“Oh definitely, Dave is the biggest gossip on the team.” He laughed quietly as you groaned, then kissed your cheek. “He should be the last of your worries though… He won’t say a word to anyone.”

You rolled over so that you were nose to nose with him, resting your hands on his bare chest. 

“You just said he was the biggest gossip on the team, and now you want me to believe he won’t say anything?” You asked incredulously. “How could you possibly know that?”

He brushed his nose against yours three times—making your stomach do backflips—and then kissed you with a smile. 

“Because, first of all, Dave is my closest friend. He wouldn’t say anything that would get me into trouble, unless he thought there was the slightest possibility that I was hurting you; physically or emotionally.” He explained, kissing you again. “Which I wouldn’t ever do intentionally.”

“Mmm this is starting to sound like that talk that you really wanted to have earlier.” You hummed, burrowing in closer. 

“Which we really should still have…” He murmured, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand sliding slowly down your back. “Maybe over dinner?” 

You giggled as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving soft kisses everywhere.

“Are you asking me on a date, Aaron?” You teased, making him pull back and look you in the eyes. 

“Conventionally, I would have done this before I took you to bed, but yes, I am.” He admitted softly. 

“Well something tells me, nothing about this is going to be conventional. Which I happen to love, so yes, I will go on a date with you.” You smiled at him, watching as his eyes lit up. 

He closed the small distance between you and kissed you thoroughly. Your lips parted with ease and his tongue tangled with yours. That hand finding your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, making you moan into his mouth.

Then you realized something. 

“Aaron?” You questioned, pulling back just enough to speak. 

“Yeah baby?” He asked, nipping at your lips gently. 

“You said, “first of all.” That implies there’s more than one reason.” You brought the conversation back to Rossi’s gossiping habits. 

He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of your nose.

“The other reason is because it benefits him if no one comes snooping about our relationship.” He said cryptically. 

“How does that possibly affect him one way or another? We both know that the worst that would happen is they transfer me to another unit, or section. Which would suck for me, but the rest of you would be fine…” You muttered in confusion, scrunching your face up at him. 

His eyes were twinkling with mischief again as he leaned in closer. 

“I happen to know that he’s sleeping with Strauss, and if anyone came snooping into the interpersonal relationships of the BAU…” He whispered conspiratorially, as though it were the juiciest gossip he’d ever heard and you began to wonder if maybe Dave wasn’t truly the biggest gossip after all. 

It was pretty juicy though. 

“Wow, so both our Unit and Section Chiefs are sleeping with subordinates. How scandalous, Agent Hotchner.” You teased, leaning back in and putting your forehead against his. 

“It happens more than you might think, the Bureau just keeps a lid on it.” He admits. “I can think of a few more inappropriate workplace relationships off the top of my head…” 

“Hmmm… well, while you do that…” You murmured, making your voice drip with seduction, running your hands down his chest and stomach until you found the waistband of his boxers—which you were slightly irritated had found their way back onto his body—and slipped one inside. He was already hard as you wrapped your fingers around him. “I think I’ll give you some head , seeing as I’ve received four mind blowing, earth shattering, life altering orgasms from you… and you have still only gotten one in return.” 

You saw his pupils dilate, felt his cock twitch and grow impossibly harder, and his breath stuttered as you started kissing your way down his chest. 

But then your stomach growled— loudly— and you remembered that you actually were hungry. You weighed your options in your head… Get out of bed and eat, or stay in bed and fuck the delicious hunk of a man infront of you for the second time in twenty four hours… 

There was a very clear winner in your mind. 

However, Aaron also heard your stomach call out for sustenance, and he was nothing if not practical. 

“As much as I would love to feel those pretty little lips wrapped around me again…” He murmured, his voice suddenly two octaves lower and oh so raspy. “You did lie to JJ about having breakfast this morning. Which means you haven’t eaten since before you went into the club last night. That's been over twenty four hours now, Sweetheart. You need to eat.”

You groaned and let him pull you back up so that your faces were even, and gave him a pitiful little pout. 

“Technically, I didn’t lie. I said that I had sausage this morning, I did not say that I ate it, or what kind it was. Simply that I had some, and I did. Soo…” You joked, earning an amused chuckle as he shook his head. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He murmured, almost to himself, though you knew he meant for you to hear it. 

“Fuck me again, preferably, but I also would not mind being fed…” You mused, getting a sexy little smirk for your efforts. 

He kissed you slowly, as though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it to memorize the taste of you. 

When he finally pulled away, you whined pathetically, and he laughed, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Go hop in the shower, honey. I’ll order something and have it delivered so you can eat.” He instructed. 

You looked at him skeptically for a moment. 

“Will you still be here when I get out? Or are you Irish goodbying me?” You interrogated him. 

“I’m yours all night baby…” He murmured, kissing you once more. “Promise.” 

You wished he were yours forever…

**********************************************************

The next morning Aaron woke up early, his limbs still tangled with yours, your soft breaths moving his chest hairs as you lay sprawled across his upper body, your head laying just above his heart, and your hands resting on his shoulders. 

There was sunlight, just barely starting to trickle through the blinds. If the sun was coming up, it was around six in the morning. His body’s internal clock was a well oiled machine. Up at six, no matter the previous night’s activities. 

And last night there were plenty. 

You were sleeping so peacefully… and he truly didn’t want to wake you. 

But he also didn’t want you to wake up alone, wondering where he went, what time he snuck out, and why he didn’t say goodbye. 

And he did have to go, if it was six, then he only had three hours to drive the twenty five minutes from your place to his. Take a five minute shower, iron a shirt and press his slacks, tie a tie, have breakfast with Jack—who he hadn’t seen since the day before the raid (Jessica was a saint)—then drive the thirty minutes to Quantico. Which only added up to an hour and fifty minutes, but if he factored in the morning rush traffic and construction on the beltway… he’d be cutting it close. 

His arms were wrapped around your waist and he tightened them, wanting you even closer for just a moment. Just to savor the weight and heat of your body on his. 

He really hoped he got the chance to get used to it.  

“Sweetheart.” He murmured in your ear, stroking the side of your face with the backs of his fingers.

You moaned softly in your sleep and nuzzled in closer. He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. 

“Baby, wake up for me please…” He said just a little louder, kissing your forehead and stroking your back. 

“Mmm mm…” You mumbled sleepily. “It’s not time yet.” 

“I know, baby… You can go right back to sleep, but I don’t want you to wake up alone later and be sad that I didn’t say goodbye.” He tilted your face up just enough to give himself access to your lips, which he kissed. Once, twice, three times… 

And there… a smile was forming on your beautiful face now. 

“There you are…” He whispered. “Come on pretty girl, open your eyes…”

Your lashes started to flutter and he was breathless — speechless— as you looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes. You looked slightly dazed and a little confused, but as your eyes grew more alert, they flooded with pure adoration that made his heart pound in his chest. 

“Good morning…” You yawned, your voice raspy and sleepy

“Morning…” He hummed, kissing the tip of your nose, then your lips. 

“What time is it?” You asked, nuzzling in closer to him. 

He held you tighter and kissed your forehead again. 

“Around six.” He told you. 

“Work doesn’t start until nine. Why are we awake?” You pouted sleepily. 

“Because I have to go baby, and I wanted you to know that I was leaving instead of sneaking out.” He explained softly. 

“Oh…” You murmured. “Where are you going?” 

“Home, I need clean clothes for work, and I want to have breakfast with Jack. I haven’t seen him in three days.” He explained softly, running his fingers through your hair. Taking every opportunity to touch you while he could. 

Your eyes shot wide and you sat up straight. 

“Oh my God, Aaron! You haven’t seen Jack in three days?!” You exclaimed. “What are you still doing here? I mean, I like having you here but Jack is more important, you should’ve gone home last night! He is probably worried or at least missing you!” 

Your concern for Jack’s emotional state was so endearing, he could help himself and pulled you back down with him. Peppering kisses all over your cheeks. 

“You’re so sweet, pretty girl.” He murmured. “It was already Jack’s bedtime when we woke up last night, and I wouldn’t have made it home before he fell asleep. There was no sense in it, when I knew I would make it home before he woke up this morning. So I stayed.” 

You relaxed slightly and he smiled. 

“I’ll be dressed and ready for work before he opens his eyes. I promise.” Aaron assured you, stroking your cheek. “And yes I’m sure he misses me but he’s used to me being gone for longer stretches of time than this. He’s okay I promise, he’ll just be excited to see me when he wakes up.” 

“Okay…” You murmured, “I feel less guilty for keeping you from him now.” 

He chuckled softly and kissed you thoroughly. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Sweetheart.”

It took him five more minutes to get out your door, and the whole drive home all he could think about was you.

He made it home by six forty and tried to be as quiet as possible coming in. He’d already pulled his phone out to send Jess a text, letting her know it was just him and not to be scared.

“Where have you been?” 

He looked up and found Jess sitting on the couch with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She nodded her head toward the kitchen where a second mug waited next to the coffee pot. 

“I stayed at a co-worker’s place, we’d been up for forty eight hours and once I dropped them off, I was too tired to make it back to the bureau and then home.” He explained on his way through the living room, walking over to grab the second mug and pour his own cup. “I’m sorry I should have called and let you know, I was just exhausted and it slipped my mind.”

“Oh?” Jess called softly, so he could hear her, but she wouldn’t wake Jack. “Who? Was it Dave, or Spencer? Maybe Derek?”

He wasn’t sure why that detail mattered, but he was happy to make small talk with her if it made her happy. She did so much for him and Jack, that Aaron sometimes felt like he owed her a debt he could never fully repay.

“Uh, yeah I stayed with Dave.” He said, choosing the one he felt was most likely to cover for him if asked later. 

Silence.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he picked up the now full mug. 

She was squinting at him and in that moment she looked so much like Haley that his heart clenched with pain for a brief moment, and had to take a deep breath to shake it off. 

“Wanna try that again?” She murmured, then took a sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim. 

“Who are you, my mother?” He joked, going to sit in the chair adjacent to the couch and shooting her a teasing grin on his way by. 

“No, just the closest thing you have to a big sister, and you’re my little brother… I’m allowed to worry. Especially with your job…” She shrugged, as if that wasn’t a guilt trip. He knew she was just fishing for answers though and wasn’t actually trying to upset him. “Also, Dave called me yesterday morning, looking for you. Then called me back to let me know that they found you and you were more than alright.”

God, fucking damn it, Dave.

“I was alright.” He shrugged simply, taking a sip of his coffee. Knowing good and well he was caught in a lie, but not really caring to come clean yet. Jess wouldn’t know exactly what he was lying about.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it, not with Jess. He didn’t want to taint this—whatever this was—with all the emotions that would come with that conversation. 

Not yet. 

“So…” She drawled innocently, too innocently . “Who's the girl?”

 Aaron choked on his coffee. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He gasped through the coughing fit that overtook him. 

But he could feel his cheeks burning. 

“That is the exact look you had on your face that time I caught you sneaking out of Haley's bedroom window twenty years ago.” Jess accused, a look of pure glee on her face. “Aaron Hotchner, you have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?! Spill!” 

He was busted… there was no getting out of it now. Not with Jess. When she put her mind to something, she got her way… come hell or high water. 

“ I- it’s- I don’t-” He stuttered, trying to come up with an acceptable answer, and sighing when the best he could do was, “It’s complicated, and very, very new. But I really like her, and I did ask her out–”

“ I would hope so,” Jess interrupted with a shit eating grin, “you spent the last twenty four hours at her place!”

Aaron thought he might just melt into the floor and die. Jess was the last person he wanted to be having this conversation with right now. He just knew his face was blazing red, he was sure because it definitely felt like it was on fire. 

“ Jess! I’m not doing this with you right now, I have to get ready for work before Jack wakes up so I can eat breakfast with him before I go.” He started to get up and walk to his room, intent on following through with his plan—and promise to you—to be ready for work before Jack woke so he could give the boy his full attention.

Jess just laughed. 

“Fine… Keep your secrets! But Aaron…” She called after him, and the softer tone had him pausing in the hall. 

“Yes?” He looked back at her. 

“I’m happy for you… It’s about time.” She murmured, and the smile on her face was open and genuine… She meant it. 

Aaron was sure that if he opened his mouth to respond, he would tear up instead. 

He was happy too, in a way that he hadn’t been… in a very long time. 

So he smiled back at her and then continued on to take his shower. 

Jack had been over the moon to see him. 

He’d had a million questions and a thousand stories to tell Aaron when he’d come into the kitchen and found him sitting at the table with his Aunt Jess. 

Aaron answered every question and listened intently to every tale the boy told, and when it was time for him to head to work he’d gotten the biggest hug with a whispered, “I love you Daddy!” 

He couldn’t imagine a better start to the day than the one he’d had this morning. 

Traffic was light on the way to work, he didn’t get stopped at a single light and the closer he got to Quantico the more suspicious he got. He was never this lucky. 

Usually, mornings felt like the universe was conspiring against him. 

So he was bracing himself for the other shoe to drop as he walked into the bullpen and started the coffee machine as he did every morning. Then he walked to his office, flipping on lights as he went.

He was the first one in, as per usual, and so he sat down to catch up on his emails from the last two days. Then his phone dinged twice. 

The first message made him grin ear to ear.

Pretty Girl: Omg I fell asleep after you left and just woke up about 15 minutes ago, I’m gonna haul ass to the office as quickly as I can. 

He shook his head with a soft chuckle and sent back a response. 

Drive safely please, no one else is here yet either and Morgan is late at least twice a week. You’re fine. - A.H. 

He looked at the message and thought it looked too formal, too stiff, and considering the fact that he knew what it felt like to be buried inside you… that seemed a little cold. So he sent a second message. 

I think I left my suit jacket at your apartment this morning, I was a little preoccupied. I'll have to come back by and get it soon. -Aaron

He didn’t even have time to check the other message before you responded. 

Pretty Girl: I’ll grab it on my way out, but uh… You don’t need a reason to stop by, I’ll always be happy to see you. ;)  Also, why do you sign your messages to us? You know your contact information is saved in our phones, right? I have always wanted to ask you that and now that you’ve literally seen my pussy… I think I have enough good will to get a pass.

He snorted to himself. 

Maybe because I’m geriatric and just don’t know how to use technology… And I’ve done a lot more to your pussy than just look at it, or do you need your memory refreshed? I would be very glad to help in that endeavor. –The man who made you come four times yesterday

Pretty Girl: Do you want me to be late? Because if you keep talking to me like that I’m going to have to pull over on the way there and take care of the throbbing sensation I’ve now got between my thighs.

Don’t text and drive… Come to my office when you get here and I’ll take care of it for you.

He didn’t get a response, so he assumed you were doing as he asked, and refraining from texting while driving. So he checked the other message he’d gotten just after yours. 

Strauss: I need to see you in my office at 9:15

Aaron checked his watch. Nine o’ five. He had ten minutes to chug a cup of coffee, maybe prep with some ibuprofen (in anticipation of the headache he got anytime he had to deal with her), and then walk up to her office. 

There was a knock on the doorframe. 

“Mornin’ lover boy…” 

Aaron groaned inwardly, then looked up at Morgan standing in the doorway. 

“Where’s Foxy Loxy?” Morgan teased. 

“She sent me a text telling me she’d overslept and was going to be late.” He tried to brush it off, walking toward the door to go start the coffee pot. 

“We figured you two would’ve just ridden in together this morning, ya know, since you were still at her house at Nine o’clock last night.” Morgan teased, following him down the stairs and through the bullpen. 

“I went home to see my son.” Aaron muttered, not specifying when he’d gone home.

“Jack’s bedtime is at like eight thirty…” Morgan quipped. 

He couldn’t help the small smile that he had to bite back at the fact that Morgan knew Jack’s bedtime. He was a great friend. 

No matter how annoying he was being at the moment.

“I didn’t say I saw him last night…” Aaron smirked, throwing Derek a bone, just to get him off his back. 

He let out a bark of laughter and clapped Aaron on the shoulder. 

“My man!” He crowed. 

Aaron just rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“I have a meeting with Straus in…” Aaron checked his watch. “Eight minutes. I would appreciate it if you’d get the team going on the morning briefing if I’m not back by ten.” 

Morgan’s teasing expression dropped immediately as Aaron started pouring himself a mug of coffee, then silently offered to pour one for the other man as well. 

“I’m good… What does Strauss want? Early meetings with her are never good… she’s cranky in the morning.” Morgan warned, as if Aaron didn’t already know.

“She didn’t say.” He answered. “Just told me to be in her office at nine fifteen.”

“I don’t like that, Hotch… I don’t like that at all.” Derek muttered. 

Aaron just sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sure everything is fine… We haven’t had any major discrepancies recently, we executed that raid with precision and we knew going in there would be casualties, but we didn’t lose any agents or officers, we even got our UC out clean.” Hotch shrugged. “Unless one of you has something to confess… then she probably just wants an update on this investigation, since we’re partnered with the Organized Crime division, we made a huge bust but it’s not over.”

“What if she knows about you and Miss Vixen doing things together that are not so clean…” Morgan teased, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. 

“I don’t see how she could, unless they called her about the SUV, but even then that’s easily explainable.” Hotch assured him. “Everything is fine Morgan, if there is something to worry about, I will let you know.” 

“Okay…” Derek muttered. “But I still don’t like it.”

With that, Aaron sat his mug in the sink, patted Derek on the shoulder and made his way up to the lair of the dragon.

“We need to talk.”

Those were the first words Erin Strauss said to him when he entered her office. 

They did not inspire much confidence. 

“Well, I didn’t assume you ordered me up here for coffee.” He smarted off… then kicked himself…Why couldn’t he just sit down and be quiet? Now she was gonna be pissy. 

“Aaron, this is serious.” She said, “The Organized Crime Section Chief called me this morning.”

Hotch stiffened. 

“Your UC was compromised.” 

Everything was not fine.

************************************************************************************************************

You were forty five minutes late. 

You’d made it down stairs and then you’d realized that you couldn’t text him and drive at the same time if you’d wanted to. 

Your car was still at Quantico.

You’d have to call a cab. Or an uber… but either way… you were gonna be much later than you’d originally expected. 

You picked up your phone again to call Aaron and let him know… and then you had another horrible realization. 

You’d forgotten to put your phone on the charger the night before.

You’d been a little preoccupied , as Aaron had put it. 

Your phone only had ten percent, and you figured it’d be better to use it to hail a cab, than to call Aaron, because what could he do? 

Besides, call a cab for you from his phone. 

You didn’t want to bother him with it, so you called the cab and then turned your phone off to spare your battery until you made it to work, running back upstairs quickly to grab a charger.

The cab took another fifteen minutes to get there. 

By that point you knew you’d be lucky if you made it in time for the briefing. 

The cabbie must’ve been like eighty five years old. 

That’s how he drove anyway… five under the speed limit, the whole way and he got stuck at every single light. 

You’d been ready to scream. 

When you’d finally arrived at the office, the entire unit was in an uproar. People were scattering like roaches in every direction. Morgan was standing on top of his desk— shouting orders—JJ and Emily were both at their desk phones, nearly screaming to be heard over the commotion. Penelope was in the conference room, a laptop in front of her on the table. She was in a state of panic and Reid was doing his best to console her. 

You looked around for Aaron. There. In his office with Rossi, he was on his cell phone, it looked like he was calling someone, and then every time they didn’t answer, the furrow in his brow would deepen. His usual suit jacket had been discarded somewhere, his tie was missing, he had two buttons undone on his shirt and his sleeves were rolled up halfway to his elbows. 

Something was seriously wrong.

You picked your way through the crowd, trying to get to someone so they could tell you what was going on. You reached Morgan first, and tugged on the leg of his pants, just to get his attention. 

“What is happening?!?!” You shouted up at him. 

When he looked down and saw you, his eyes widened with… relief? Then he grabbed you by the arm and hauled you up onto the desk with him. 

“Morgan!” You protested, but he wasn’t listening to you. 

“Everybody quiet! QUIET!” He shouted, and the bull pen fell still. JJ and Emily gasped and then Morgan shouted one last thing as he turned you to face Aaron’s office, “HOTCH!” 

Aaron turned and looked out his window. When he made eye contact with you, he dropped his phone and came running out of his office, Rossi hot on his trail. 

“What is happening?” You asked again as the crowd parted for him like the red sea. 

Nobody answered you. Not as Aaron reached the desk, grasped both your hips and unceremoniously transferred your feet to the floor. Not as he took you by the elbow and pulled you, gently but firmly up to his office. Not as he slammed the door and closed the blinds.

They just stared until they could no longer see you, in wide eyed relief. 

“Aaron, what in the world?! What is–” 

He backed you up against the door and kissed you. 

His hands were everywhere; your face, your shoulders, your arms, your waist, your hair… It was like he was checking to make sure you were still in one piece. 

You didn’t know what had frightened him so badly–terrified him, it seemed–but you were happy to console him if you could. So you let him kiss you, until he was satisfied. 

He finally pulled away, just enough so that he could speak–against your lips with his forehead pressed to yours–but he did not let go. His hands cupping both sides of your head. 

“Where have you been?” He breathed. 

“I- I told you I was going to be late…” You murmured, confusion wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what you were feeling.

“You weren’t answering your phone, your car was in the parking lot but you were nowhere to be found, none of your neighbors would pick up their phones…” He started listing things like they were explanation enough, but they weren’t.

“My phone was almost dead, I forgot to charge it last night. I turned it off to save the battery just in case I needed it. I also forgot my car was here so I had to catch a cab, and he was the slowest driver in history I swear and then– Aaron what’s wrong?” You pulled back farther to look at him. 

He was shaking. 

“Are you angry at me?” You whispered. “I’m sorry I was so late, I didn’t mean to be…” 

He shook his head and just pulled you into his arms. Holding your head against his chest tightly and pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“No baby, I’m not mad at you.” He murmured. “I thought I’d lost you…” 

“Lost me??” You asked him incredulously. “Aaron what is going on!?” 

He pulled you over to the couch and sat down beside you, unwilling to be separated by a desk. 

“Sweatheart… you were compromised… Organized Crime called Strauss this morning to tell her they suspected your cover was blown.” He explained. “And then we couldn’t find you.” 

No. That wasn’t possible…

“What?” You asked, your heart pounding in your chest as fear took hold. “No, I got out clean. There’s no way.” 

“I’m sorry, honey, but you didn’t… We thought you did… but apparently one of the bouncers recognized–” He paused and clenched his fist in his lap. “He recognized me.” 

“You? How–” You knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “The private room… He remembered you from the night we…”

“Yeah… He did.” Aaron nodded. “Apparently Organized Crime also has a UC in the ring… he sent in a warning at his last check in. They know about you. I’m so sorry, baby…”

You were shocked… you knew—of course—when you signed up for this, that something like this could happen… but you never imagined that it would.

“What do I do?” You finally had the wherewithal to ask. 

“We, will keep you safe–” 

There was a knock at the door. 

Aaron nodded you over toward the desk and you moved to sit in one of the two chairs as Aaron sat in his desk chair. 

“Come in.” He called out. 

You shot Aaron a nervous glance, as Chief Strauss entered the office. 

“I heard you found her.” She said immediately and then her eyes fell on you. “Ah good you’re already here. We’re glad to see you safe and sound. Let’s talk about next steps.”

Aaron cleared his throat. 

“I was just getting to that.” He said, glancing back at you. “I think this team is more than capable of protecting her, we can work out a schedule and she’ll stay with one of us every week. She’ll never be alone and once we take the ring down, everything will go back to normal.”

Strauss frowned at him and shook her head. 

“I know you can be brash, Aaron, but let's not be so shortsighted. How is your team supposed to focus on the rest of your case load if they’re so busy protecting her. Taking down this ring could take years, and our entire case rests on her testimony. Without it you have no probable cause and no reason for raiding that night club.” Strauss reasoned. “So of course she must be protected at all costs, but your team doesn’t have the time or the resources. Correct me if I’m wrong Agent, but you’re unattached, no spouse, no children, no close family?” 

You blinked at her, in shock for a moment. She spoke as though your life was only as valuable as your testimony. 

“Erin.” Hotch muttered, giving her a look that you didn’t quite understand. “She is invaluable to this unit, and I would be hard pressed to find a replacement.” 

“I asked you a question.” Strauss said to you, ignoring him. 

You snapped out of it. 

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.” You murmured softly, warily. 

You didn’t like the way Aaron was looking at her, you didn’t like the way she was looking at you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. 

“It would be in the best interest of the case—and your safety of course—if you went into the program.” She said bluntly. 

You felt your brow furrow. 

“What program?” You whispered… because speaking any louder seemed unwise at that moment…

“Witness Protection.” They said it at the exact same time. Strauss sounded determined, Aaron sounded defeated. 

“What?” You felt your chest caving in, your breaths starting to accelerate, tears welling in your eyes and you could only look at Aaron. “Sir. I- I don’t need that kind of protection, I can stay. I don't want to uproot my life for this.”

You knew that only he heard the unspoken, I don’t want to leave you for this.

The look he gave you would’ve broken your heart if it wasn’t shattering already. 

“Can you give us a week? If we can’t function as a unit and protect her at the same time, then we’ll send her into the program.” He bargained. 

“Aaron…” She sighed. “I didn’t want to tell her this, but if you two are going to be stubborn… The other UC made contact again. He was calling for an extraction, he thought they suspected him too… His unit didn’t get there in time.”

The panic that bubbled up in your chest was sickening, your heart rate skyrocketed, your body began to shake uncontrollably, you broke out in a cold sweat and you couldn’t breathe. 

“Shit.” You vaguely heard Aaron say, everything sounded like you were underwater. “Give me till the end of the day, she won’t leave the building, and I’ll have her ready to go by five.” 

“I’ll let the Marshalls know.” Strauss murmured, then laid her hand on your shoulder. You looked up at her on instinct alone and her face softened slightly. “You did good work… The Marshalls know what they’re doing, you’ll be in good hands.”

Then she left the room. 

Aaron had you in his arms as soon as the door clicked shut. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He murmured. 

One of his hands stroked your hair as he pressed your head to his chest, the other on your back. You could hear his heart beat–strong and steady–it was the only thing tethering you to solid ground. The only thing keeping you from spiraling. 

You didn’t cry, you were too shocked to cry. 

You just sat there–shaking–in stunned silence. 

“Talk to me sweetheart…” He murmured after… you didn’t even know how long. “What’s going on in there?” 

He tapped the side of your head with the tip of his finger.

“I don’t know…” You murmured, shaking your head as you pulled away, just enough to look up at him, making eye contact. “I- I know that it’s safer for the team… if I go… but I don’t wanna leave the BAU… I don’t wanna leave you.”  

“You’re not leaving to protect us, baby, it’s you that’s in danger here.” He murmured, you nodded that you knew… and he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head up. “And you are not leaving. Not for good, it will be a leave of absence, just a sabbatical. I won’t replace you, the position will still be waiting for you when all this is over. I promise.”

You nodded, biting your lip, hesitant to ask what you really wanted to know. 

“And so will I.” He whispered. “Whatever is between us… it’s worth waiting for.”

That was when the tears started to fall down your cheeks. 

“I could be gone for years, Aaron, I can’t ask that of you…” You whimpered. 

“I would wait decades to feel how I feel when I’m with you.” He confessed, wiping away tears with his thumbs as they rolled down your cheeks. 

You didn’t care that you were in the office, you didn’t care that the door was unlocked, you didn’t care about anything in that moment… You just knew that you needed to kiss him… 

At least one more time. 

So you surged forward and melded your lips to his. 

He met you half way, with a tender sort of passion that told you this wasn’t going to end with a kiss. When he buried his hands in your hair, you whimpered against his lips… 

“I need you…” You sighed, barely breaking the kiss. 

He hauled you up out of your chair, picking you up by the backs of your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you across the room. He locked the door, pressing your back into it as he parted your lips with his tongue. 

You let him in easily, your hands going to the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair. 

He tasted of coffee and salt.

You realized then, that the salt… was from your tears… Still steadily rolling down your cheeks. 

He didn’t seem to mind. 

Leaning back slightly, and stroking them with his thumbs as he looked at you. Then, as if compelled to do it, he leaned forward and kissed the tears away, so tenderly you thought you might die from the sweetness. 

He turned with you still in his arms—wrapped around him so tightly nothing could have pried you away—and laid you onto your back on the couch, lowering himself over the top of you. 

He started to kiss his way down your throat and when he found the collar of your shirt he started to unbutton it slowly, continuing his trail of kisses with every button he freed. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders, clinging to him as if he might disappear if you let go… Because you knew, this could be the last time you ever felt him this close. 

It wasn’t fair. 

You’d only just found your way to each other. You should’ve had so much more time.

Two days would never be enough. 

His mouth trailed down your stomach and he found the button of your pants with his fingers, undoing it with barely a thought. He knelt at your feet beside the couch and gently removed your shoes. Looking up at you with so many emotions swirling around in his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint what they were. 

Then he hooked his thumbs into your pants and slipped them down over your hips, pressing a kiss to the point of each hip bone as he did. The warmth of his mouth on your skin had you arching up off the couch. 

When he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the front of your panties, just below the little black bow on the waist band, you moaned. 

He made his way back up your torso to your mouth, trailing kisses until he reached your lips. Kissing you deeply, so that any sounds you made would be caught by his mouth. Then his hand slipped beneath the lace of your panties, finding your clit and circling it with gentle precision. 

You slid your hands down his back and tugged the tail of his shirt out of his slacks, reaching beneath the fabric, desperate to feel his skin beneath your finger tips instead. 

He shuddered at your touch, leaning further into it and deepening the kiss, his teeth nipping at your lips gently. 

You whimpered softly and pressed up into his hand with your hips, his fingers dipped down from your clit and found you already wet for him. 

“Aaron, please.” You whispered against his lips. “I need you.”

You knew you didn’t have a lot of time. Not here. 

He sat up, dragging your panties down your legs slowly. 

The sound of his belt buckle jingling, the rasp of his zipper, and your mingled panting breaths filled the silence. 

Your eyes never left his, and his never left yours. 

As he lined himself up with your entrance, he lowered himself back over you. His lips met yours again as he slowly pushed into you, catching the low groan that escaped you. 

You felt every inch of him as he stilled inside of you. 

He kept kissing you through it, one hand on the sofa next to your head, the other cupping your cheek. 

When he started to move, his strokes were long and slow, like he was memorizing the way it felt to be inside of you. To be kissing you. He pulled away from your lips, and his eyes roved your face, the hand on your cheek threading through your hair instead. Pushing it away from your eyes. Taking in every little detail of you and committing it to his memory. 

Committing you to memory.

The realization that he also knew that this could be it—that you could be gone for years or end up dead—was too much for you to bear and you began to cry again. 

Tears slipped down your cheeks no matter how hard you tried to blink them away. 

“Baby?” He didn’t even have to voice the question, just stopped moving and looked at you with concerned eyes. 

“You’re looking at me like you’re never gonna see me again and I… it just feels like this is it. This is all we get.” You explained, wiping at your own tears. Trying to get rid of them. 

He grasped your wrist, gently moving it away from your face as your tears fell freely. 

“This is not the last time.” He murmured, wiping them away with his thumb. “This will not be the last time I hold you, it will not be the last time I kiss your lips, or the last time I fuck you until you think you’ve seen God.”  

You knew the last line was supposed to make you laugh… but you only sobbed harder at the memory. The last two days had been so perfect . 

“Hey… sweetheart listen to me.” He whispered. “We will get that first date, we will get to experience the relentless teasing of Morgan and Prentiss, we will have so many firsts together that it’ll be like this never happened.” 

You both knew that those were pretty words… but it was a promise he couldn’t make. You let him have that hope though, because you wanted to believe just as badly. 

So you nodded and pulled him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. He started to move inside you again, his thrusts a little more urgent now, like he needed you so desperately he could hardly contain himself. 

And you felt that urgency too… growing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t hold back.” You murmured against his lips on a gasp for air. 

It was like he only needed to know you wanted him just as badly in that moment as he needed you, because as soon as the words left your mouth he let all restraint fly out the window. 

Your head tipped back on a strangled moan as he fucked you deeper and harder than he had been before. He muffled the sound with his own mouth, kissing you with bruising passion. 

“Shh, I know it feels good baby, but I need you to stay quiet, unless you want the whole bullpen to know what I’m doing to you.” He murmured against your lips when you quieted. 

Just like that, your brain left the building, as it tended to do when this man touched you and spoke to you like that. 

The force of his thrusts were moving your body… and the couch, which had started to make a scraping sound against the floor. 

 Aaron wasted no time, scooping you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you to the closest wall. Where he fucked you like his life depended on it, slipping one hand between your head and the wall so you wouldn’t bump against it, and holding you aloft with the other under your thigh. 

He kissed you like you were water in the desert and he hadn’t had a drop in days. The strength of his lower body had you secured against the wall as he pounded into you. 

His hand moved from your thigh and slipped down between your bodies. His fingers located your clit with practiced ease that had you biting your lip—wait, no, that was his lip—to keep quiet. He groaned softly at the sting of your teeth and tangled his fingers into your hair, tugging on it just hard enough for you to feel it. 

His lips moved from yours as he kissed his way across your cheek and down your neck, nipping and sucking lightly at the skin there. 

It made you tighten around him and he moaned quietly. 

“I’m gonna think about this every night until I have you in my arms again, I won’t be able to help it.” He whispered, biting your earlobe gently. “When I close my eyes I’ll see the face you make when you come, I’ll hear the sounds I drag from you with my mouth, feel the way you clench around my cock… nothing— no one— could ever compare. Not to you.” 

You felt that tell tale tension rising in your core… the way he spoke to you… 

The way his fingers worked your clit in tandem with the thrusts of his hips—his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you… Every. Single. Time. 

All that combined with his mouth on your neck—lips, tongue and teeth finding every sensitive patch of skin—was almost too much to bear. 

“Aaron!” You whimpered as he drove you closer and closer to that edge, clutching at him desperately for anything to hold on to. 

“I know, Sweetheart, I know… I can feel you. You’re so close aren’t you? Just need a little more, huh?” He murmured against your neck.

“Yes!” You whined, your nails sinking into his biceps, the only place you could find purchase. “Aaron, please!” 

“Okay baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?” His voice rolled over you like a caress, making the knot in your core tighten even further and you could only whimper in response. He kissed your jaw and your eyes fluttered closed. “It’s okay baby, bite my shoulder if you need to.” 

The very thought of biting him… 

So you did.

You reached up and pulled his collar to the side, and sank your teeth into the muscle where his neck met his shoulder. 

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groaned in your ear, it was the most obscene sound you’d ever heard, the rasp in his voice knocking the little breath you had from your lungs. 

The ball of tension in your core exploded. 

You bit down harder on Aaron’s shoulder just to keep from screaming and he held you close as your whole body tensed so tightly you weren’t even sure you were breathing. 

“Baby I- I’m-” He started trying to pull out of you, but you held on tightly with your arms and legs. 

“Don’t pull out!” You pleaded, through the euphoric bliss flooding your body. 

“Fuck!” He gasped, and you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up as he thrusted through it. 

Your body went limp, your vision fuzzy, your breathing staggered. 

You let your head fall to his shoulder as you panted. 

His chest was heaving as he leaned into you, using his body weight to hold you up and not much else. 

“We’re making a habit of that…” He murmured after a moment. “As adults we really should know better.” 

“A habit of what?” You mumbled, your brain too sex-adled to put it together on your own. 

“Me coming inside you…” He responded quietly. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing and I’ll never get enough of it, but a pregnancy is the last thing you need right now.”

You scoffed. 

“That’s what pills are for.” You joked. “But can you imagine trying to explain that to the team… Christ… I can practically hear Morgan and Garcia calling us mommy and daddy now…” 

He groans in exasperated amusement. 

“I’ll give you the money for one, though you do know those aren’t one hundred percent effective, right?” He murmurs, leaning his head over and kissing your forehead. 

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, nodding. “That wasn’t the pill I was referring to though. I’m on birth control, but I guess the added protection wouldn’t hurt. Since birth control isn’t always fool proof either.” 

He just pressed another kiss to your forehead and then carried you back to the couch. Laying you down on your back as he slowly pulled out of you, making you both moan softly. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” He murmured. “We need to tell the others what the plan is.” 

**********************************************************************************************************

Aaron had a million things on his mind as he helped you get cleaned up. 

He had found some baby wipes in his filing cabinet—that he kept around because they were handy to have everywhere when you had a young child—and brought them back over to the couch. 

“Lay back for me, sweetheart.” He murmured as he knelt by your hips. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You whispered, biting your bottom lip and blushing probably the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen. 

“I made the mess. I’ll clean it up.” He smirked at you, as your face went from pink to red. “Baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed. I enjoy taking care of you.” 

“Okay…” You whispered. 

And he was getting a weird read on your body language… he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

“Unless that’s going to make you uncomfortable?” He asked, fishing for an explanation for your sudden loss of confidence. 

“Not at all!” You shook your head almost violently as you tried to assure him that wasn’t the case. 

Okay… that wasn’t it… 

So he went about gently cleaning you up, knowing that you would tell him what was bothering you eventually. You couldn’t handle the silence—he’d noticed—you always felt the need to fill it, and that was fine with him. He loved to hear your voice. 

It wasn’t until he was helping you slip back into your panties that you spoke up. 

“Aaron?” You murmured softly, hesitantly. 

“Hmm?” He hummed, biting back his smile. 

“I uh- I don’t want you to think…” You bit your lip again and looked away. 

“That’s gonna be a bit of a problem in our line of work sweetheart.” He teased softly. 

“Aaron…” You groaned, but he could hear the amusement in your tone. 

“What is it baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your knee before turning to grab your pants off the floor. 

“I just… I need you to know that I don’t just… do that… with just anyone. I’m not usually irresponsible like that…” You explained—very vaguely, he might add—and yet he only felt more confused. 

“Do what, sweetheart?” He asked for clarification as he gathered your pant legs up so they’d be easy for you to step into, then pulled your legs over the side of the couch so that your feet landed in the holes. 

And you just let him, not making a single move on your own to help. Which he found both amusing and endearing, especially being an expert in body language. This screamed complete and total trust. 

At least on the physical level, you knew he’d never hurt you. 

“I don’t let guys… finish like that… inside me, I mean.” You seemed to struggle getting the words out. “I- I’m not like that, I know that’s incredibly risky for so many reasons. I- I’m not easy… It’s just… it’s different with you. I don’t think when it comes to you, I just…” 

Aaron’s brain short circuited. 

He didn’t hear the rest of your sentence, he was too busy processing the first few fragmented phrases. It seemed that you were in the process of trying to convince him that you were not promiscuous. 

Which he already knew. 

So this confused him. He was unsure of what he might have said or done to imply that you were. He was, however, very sure that he hated the very implication that he’d made you feel that way. 

“Honey…” He murmured, reaching up to cup your face in his palm. 

You just kept talking. Prattling on about how he was the first person you’d ever allowed to take such a liberty with you—which made his toes curl and gave him butterflies, (he would examine those phenomena later) —and how it wasn’t like you to sleep with someone before you’d even been on a date. 

Ah… There it was. 

Last night he’d said, conventionally he’d take you on a date before sleeping with you. Then just a minute ago he’d pointed out that he probably shouldn’t make a habit of finishing inside you because it wasn’t safe… and he’d told you that contraceptives weren’t completely effective. 

Yeah, he could see where you might have taken that the wrong way. 

He took your face in both hands and kissed you. Thoroughly.

It shocked you enough to quiet you. 

“Honey, I never thought you were any of those things.” He assured you. “It’s not exactly a normal situation we’re in right now… the way I feel about you is… intense. It makes sense that we would get carried away and, clearly, that's something we both seem to… enjoy… and that’s all that matters, as long as we’re safe about it.” 

You blinked at him for a second and there were a million different thoughts running across your face. Most of them seemed to be filthy. 

“I really wish we had time to do whatever just went through your head.” He teased as he pulled you to your feet and then pulled your pants up over your thighs and hips. “Unfortunately…”

You grinned up at him. 

“We should probably make an appearance soon, or people might wonder.” You finished his thought. 

Then, together you made sure your clothes were straightened and hair was neat. Aaron put his jacket and tie—which you straighten for him—back on and then he watched you fix your make up. Thinking to himself how beautiful you were the entire time. 

“Ready?” He asked when you turned back toward him. 

You nodded your head and he held his hand out to you from where he now sat behind his desk. You came around the corner of it and took his outstretched hand and he pulled you down into his lap. 

The little giggle that bubbled out of you made his heart clench, he didn’t know when he’d next hear that sound… and he’d started to get used to it.

“Aaron!” You hummed happily. “You said we had to go!” 

“I know…” He murmured, looking up at you and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I just want you all to myself… for at least one more minute.” 

Sadness flooded your eyes and he immediately regretted bringing that up. 

“Do I really have to go?” You whispered, holding back tears again. 

Aaron took a deep, in through his nose— hold 1, 2, 3, 4… —out through his mouth. His face tipping up to the ceiling, his eyes closing. He knew he had to say that you did have to go… 

It was the safest thing for you… even if it broke both your hearts.  

“Yes.” He sighed. “Because staying puts you in twice the danger. Staying and working on this case puts you in direct contact with people who have orders to kill you. But in WITSEC, you’ll get a whole new identity, you can alter your appearance, and they will get you far away from here. You’ll be safe.” 

And yet… he had that little nagging feeling in the back of his mind… a little voice that whispered: ‘Are you sure she’ll be safe? The last time you put the woman you loved in WITSEC… you never saw her alive again.’ 

He recognized that voice, it haunted him in every decision he made. The voice belonged to a dead man… he shoved that voice into a deep dark hole in the back of his mind. 

WITSEC was safer than staying here, and last time the situation had been much different. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been safer than I am right now.” You murmured. 

He smiled softly at you, at the implication that his arms were the safest place you could think of.

“I’m glad you think so…” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose. “We should go, we have prepping to do before I send you with the Marshals.” 

“Prepping?” You asked. 

“You’ll see.” He answered. 

A few minutes later, when you walked together into the conference room to find the others… they were making a plan. 

“Hotch!” Morgan said upon seeing the two of you. “We’ve got a plan, we wanna run it by you, but we’ve got a schedule all worked out and we think we can manage the case load and this case, all while protecting Foxy. Here’s what we’ve got-“ 

Aaron held up a hand. 

“Stop.” He said softly, glancing down at you to find tears in your eyes again. He hated seeing you cry. He laid a hand on the small of your back before he continued. “There’s already a plan, it’s already being put into motion. I appreciate this effort from you all, truly I do… but the circumstances are more complicated than we thought. We can’t handle this on our own and keeping her here with us only puts her in more danger, because we have to keep working the case.” 

The room was silent for a second, confusion thick in the air. 

“Okay…” Morgan said. “Then what’s the plan, fill us in so we can help.” 

Aaron pressed his lips together in a tight line… he knew the reaction this was going to get. He knew that the others would hate this just as much as he did and if anything happened to you…

They’d blame him just as much as he’d blame himself. 

A small sniffle drew everyone’s eyes over to you. You were crying again. 

“She’s crying.” Penelope whispered. “Why is she crying?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying not to.” You whimpered, and Aaron couldn’t take it. 

He pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight, in front of the whole team. 

He didn’t care to hide it from them, not when they already knew. 

“You cry if you need to, sweetheart, it’s okay.” He murmured into your hair and held you tighter. 

“Hotch?” Emily, questioned. “What is going on?” 

Aaron swallowed hard, stroking your hair soothingly. 

“Strauss is sending her into the program…” He murmured. “And for once… I agree with Strauss. This is what’s best for her.” 

“The program!?” Spencer exclaimed. “W-what- like witness protection??” 

Aaron nodded. 

All hell broke loose.

He’d been expecting it… he’d known they wouldn’t take it well. Hell they were taking it worse than you were, just like he’d known they would. It was still hard to be patient with them… 

He let them get it all out… 

The surprise, the anger, the fear, the hurt and the sadness. 

But when he told them about the other UC—the dead one—they changed their tune. If the ring was gonna go scorched earth on anyone they were suspicious of… the team couldn’t imagine what the ring would do to you, a woman they knew was a material witness against them. 

Well they didn’t have to imagine, because they knew… so they just tried not to think about it. 

One by one they’d all come to the realization that this was the only safe course of action. 

Even if it wasn’t a sure fire guarantee. 

“You wanted to know what you can do to help.” He reminded them when they all settled down of their own accord. Resigned to the reality of the situation. They all nodded sorrowfully. “Each of you has a skill that I need, to give her the best shot at surviving this until trial. Until it’s safe for us to protect her ourselves.” 

He’d been holding you against his chest the entire time, and you finally looked up at him curiously. 

“Morgan, I want you to put her on the sparring mat. Find every weakness she has and tell her what they are so she can fix them.” He said to Derek who nodded seriously. Then he looked at you. “You write down everything he says and when you get wherever you’re going you find a gym or an mma class and you practice everyday, do you understand me?” 

You nodded at him with wide fearful eyes, and he hated scaring you but he would not let you be vulnerable… you weren’t Haley, you were already capable of defending yourself… but he’d made a mistake in sending her away when she was defenseless on her own. 

He would allow you to go unprepared. 

“Prentiss, you’re gonna teach her everything you can about spotting a tail and losing it. You’re gonna teach her how to disappear.” He instructed Emily.

“Of course…” She murmured, she was biting her nails… she only did that when she was stressed and scared. 

“JJ you’re gonna get her back up identities. Not the one she’ll be using, because we don’t need to know that name… but others… just in case it goes belly up and they find her. So she can get out on her own and call us if she needs help.” He made eye contact with JJ, who was watching him with scrutinizing eyes… she was checking in on him. 

“I’m on it Hotch.” 

“Spencer and Penelope, I need you monitoring chatter. If you pick up anything that sounds remotely like they’ve found her you alert me and the Marshals immediately.” 

They both nodded. 

“What about me Aaron?” Dave asked, and Aaron took a deep breath.

“I need you to remain objective. Keep your focus on the case and not on her… because I can’t… I’m emotionally compromised, and I won’t let this happen again. So I need you to keep things above board, the whole case hinges on her testimony. Every bit of evidence we gather is a step closer to bringing her home. But we have to get it right.” He explained, hoping the urgency he felt was being conveyed. “If we don’t, and they walk, they might target her out of spite.” 

He felt you flinch in his arms and he looked down at you. 

“I won’t let that happen.” He murmured into your hair. 

“When does she leave?” Penelope asked, tears slipping down her cheeks now too. 

“End of day… today.” He answered. “So we have to work fast. It’s nearly eleven, we have until five. Let’s get started.” 

The rest of the day seemed to go by in a blur and the whole time, Aaron couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. 

He watched you spar with Morgan. Helped to spot out your weaknesses and even wrote them down for you. 

He sat with you as Emily lectured you on spotting and losing a tail, he made you take notes and made you promise to study them. 

No one stopped for lunch. 

When Emily was done with you they sat you down because Spencer and Penelope had compiled a power point of every single known member of the ring. Pictures, aliases, identifying marks, and last known addresses. They put it on a flash drive for you to take with you when you left so you could go over it every chance you got. 

After that, he took you down to the shooting range himself. 

He worked with you on your concealed carrying techniques and your draw to fire speed with each carry style. As a federal agent you didn’t need a permit to carry. You just had to pass your weapons qualifications, and you did more than pass. You were nearly perfect. 

Rossi finally made you all pause to eat an early dinner since you’d had no lunch. He’d run home, and he’d made your favorite Italian dish. He even gave you the recipe with specific instructions so you could have it while you were gone. 

JJ had come back just in time for dinner. A manila envelope in hand…

It was thick.

She didn’t give it to you, not yet. You were laughing with Reid and Garcia over something and he could see by the look in her eyes that she did not want to interrupt that moment of peace.

He was sitting right next to you at the round table, but it didn’t feel close enough. 

He tugged your chair a little closer and rested his hand on your thigh. 

One by one the others fell silent, he could see them out of the corner of his eye, elbowing each other and grinning conspiratorially.

He didn’t care, he was too busy absorbing every detail of you… 

“We still want answers about this , by the way…” Emily droned, gesturing between the two of you.

He didn’t bother looking at her, he watched you. 

You blushed bright pink… God you were beautiful. 

“Oh?” You feigned innocence. 

He wasn’t going to hide from them though, this was his family… your family. He may not like their prying, but they did it because they cared. 

“I would think you got more answers than you were looking for last night, Prentiss.” Aaron drawled in return. 

Your face turned beet red at that, and Emily opened her mouth to give a retort, but Garcia beat her to the punch, grinning smugly from ear to ear.

“Really? Then uh, how’s that geriatric cat of hers feeling today? Still pretty energetic?” She asked teasingly, “Or did all the playtime from the last few days wear him out? He’s not as young as he used to be, ya know…” 

“Woah, woah, woah, easy on the geriatric!” Dave protested. “You all are getting a little loose with that word around here.”  

Everyone laughed and Aaron couldn’t help himself. 

“I mean, in cat years he’s only a little over forty, that’s not considered geriatric is it?” He joked.

“Well I’m a little over forty and if I were to get knocked up right now they’d consider it a geriatric pregnancy so it think it’s only fair to label the boys that too.” Prentiss finally got her jab in. 

“Now wait a minute, cut the old fella some slack…” JJ chimed, a sly smirk on her face. “She said he had stamina for his age. ” 

Derek finally opened his mouth to chime in but Spencer cleared his throat loudly and nodded toward the bullpen, everyone turned to look. 

Strauss was headed toward the cat walk with two men and a woman Aaron didn’t know. 

He checked his watch. 

Four fifty five… they’d be the marshals then. 

The room went completely still, the silence heavy and thick. 

Then Emily was on your case again.

“WITSEC cannot save you from me, ma’am! You have to come home eventually and when you do…” she waved her fork at you menacingly. “We will be having a discussion about what we heard last night!”

Her attempt to ease the tension—the sadness—in the room did not go unnoticed. 

Sad smiles were offered up around the room, and next to him, Aaron heard you sniffle. 

He was so tired of seeing you cry, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better. 

So he didn’t look. 

“I love you guys…” You murmured, your voice quiet and strangled. “And I’m gonna miss you all so much.” 

Strauss rapped on the door frame as she stepped inside. 

“I don’t want to interrupt but the Marshals are here, and they already have a placement ready for her. They would like to get on the road as soon as possible.” She announced. 

It seemed like everyone forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Was all Aaron could manage to say. 

She took in the silence, the mood of the room, and–for once–did the right thing. 

“I’ll give you all a moment to say your goodbyes.” She murmured and then turned to you and said, “We’ll wait for you at the elevator.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” You whispered, your voice barely a breath, almost inaudible. 

Strauss nodded and walked out. 

“Did she just… do something mildly considerate?” JJ asked as soon as Strauss was out of ear shot. 

Derek scoffed, Emily groaned and Dave winced. 

“Is that what she was going for?” Spencer asked. 

“You should have seen her this morning when she told us about witsec. She was almost motherly.” Aaron joked, just trying to do anything to make you smile 

“Is that what she was going for?” You quipped with a smile, but it was a weak one at best. 

No one really laughed. 

Penelope was the first to move, rushing out of her chair and pulling you out of yours. 

“Come here you!” She murmured as she squeezed you so tightly, that Aaron wasn’t sure you could breathe. 

After that the others all took turns embracing you, squeezing you nearly lifeless. JJ gave you the manila envelope, and told you what was in it.

And then he was the only one left, and he knew the others had made it so on purpose, because they had all embraced you… So could he. 

He took you into his arms and held you tightly to his chest. 

“You are going to be just fine. You’ll be home before you know it and we can have that first date.” He murmured into your hair, sealing the promise with–what he hoped was–an almost imperceptible kiss to the top of your head. 

Your arms around his waist tightened and for several moments neither of you moved. 

He soaked up every second of it, memorizing the way your body felt against his own, the warmth of it, the smell of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest against his own. 

“I’ll write to you, if they’ll let me…” You murmured into his chest, he squeezed you tighter. 

“Only if you send it directly through the Marshals, not the mail.” He warned you. 

“Of course.” You murmured, and then you were pulling away… and as desperately as he wanted to hold onto you for dear life…

He had to let you go. 

“I’ll write to all of you.” You murmured to the team as a whole. “Every week.”

They all nodded, no one seemed inclined to speak. 

“Let me walk you out?” He offered softly. 

But you turned with tears in your eyes and shook your head no. 

“If you walk out there with me I won’t be able to keep it together in front of Strauss, and I won’t be able to make myself get in that car.” You whispered. “I have to go alone.”

“I understand…” He choked out against his own tears. “Go–” 

“Don’t.” You pleaded with him. “Don’t say that, if you don’t say it… it feels less final.”

He nodded, wiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek. 

“I’ll see you soon.” He murmured instead. 

You nodded at that. 

“I’ll see you soon.” You repeated. 

Then you turned and fled the room. 

They watched you go together. He made eye contact with you one final time as the elevator doors slid closed in front of you, blocking you from sight, and carrying you away.

Chapter Text

Not knowing was killing him. 

Not knowing where you were, or what you were doing. Not knowing if you were safe at any given moment, or if the next time someone came into his office they’d be there to tell him you were dead.

He flinched every time his phone rang, every time Strauss called him to her office, or she came down to his. 

Aaron was miserable. 

But he lived and breathed for your letters. 

The first one was short and sweet, just two paragraphs. 

Dear Tomcat, 

I’ve made it to my first nest. They told me I can spruce it up as soon as they get my finances all sorted out. It’s cute, a little bare, but cute. I don’t know when you’ll get this, but I miss you already. This sucks. I keep thinking about how long this could take, and I have to remind myself that our friends accomplish the impossible on a daily basis. Maybe I’ll be home before Christmas… Who knows? They tell me I can’t sign or address any of these letters. No names, locations, times or dates. Just in case. So code names it is. 

I have to cut this short, the Marshals are literally sitting here waiting on me to finish this letter before they leave. I already made them stop on the way here so I could buy paper, a pen and an envelope… So I feel like I’m being an inconvenience. (Also I made a big deal about being hungry a few miles in because Strauss interrupted dinner.) I just wanted you to know that I’m safe, the place I’m staying is nice, and I miss you so much already. Tell the others I’ll write them the next time I get a chance. 

  Missing you, 

Sweetheart

He’d gotten it a week after you’d left, so it didn’t bring him much comfort as you’d been on your own for that long. The Marshal who’d brought it to him had apologized that it had been so late, but she’d assured him that you’d made every check in call on the burner they’d given you. In fact, she’d just spoken to you that morning. She had the compassion to sit there and wait as he wrote a response. She’d even explained that you and she had worked out a deaddrop system so that people wouldn’t see you together so much.

So that had become his life, wake up without you, smile for Jack (who was once again his only reason to do so), go to work, work this case like his life depended on it, work other cases like normal, field questions from the team, and wait for your letters.  

By your eighth letter, you’d been gone for two months. 

Two months of not knowing where you were, how you were doing, if you were truly okay or just talking a big game for him in your letters. 

Hey there Tomcat,

I took up running this week just to get out of the nest, I know what you’re thinking, ‘You, running? Yeah right!’ Well you’d be wrong. I am, in fact, doing it. Figured I should get my stamina up so I can keep up with you when I come home… would be embarrassing to be outlasted by an old man. Even one as fit as you. That and boredom does funny things to a girl. 

Like last night, I got bored… and restless. So I ran out to the corner store and made a purchase—of the fun variety—don’t worry I was packing and the sun hadn’t gone down yet. When I came back I put that purchase to very good use while thinking about the twenty four hours we spent holed up in my apartment. It only made me miss you more. The purchase doesn’t make me see God like you do. Truly a travesty. Alas, I will survive. 

I watched a documentary about whale sharks a few days ago, it was very interesting. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from The Good Doctor in the next few days. I recommended it to him in my recent letter, and you know him… He’ll watch it, just so he can respond to me about it. Then he’ll educate the rest of you with fun facts for the next week. You’re welcome! *Evil cackle here* 

I miss you all desperately, I find myself doing things just because it reminds me of you all. I did find an MMA gym, like you told me to, being there reminds me of DM. I go out for retail therapy every weekend, I rarely buy anything but it makes me feel closer to the girls. It still doesn’t taste as good as his, but I make Papa Pasta’s recipe every Sunday night. He sends me a new one in every letter, but the one he gave me when I left is still my favorite. 

Did you know that I absolutely abhor cooking? Hate it! Baking? Sure! You mix some things together and throw it in the oven for a given time. No guess work. But cooking… ughhh. I suppose I’d have to learn eventually and now is as good a time as any, I did intend on having children someday. Fast food and take out is probably not very nutritious for little bodies… (or grown bodies but I’m not that concerned about it) 

I might get a job, just to stave off the boredom. Maybe waitressing or something? I really only have the skill set for two jobs. Neither of them is a good option for me right now though. Both of them got me into this mess. So here we are. 

Oh, I have to go! I forgot I made a hair appointment! The Marshals said it would be good to keep changing my appearance. I was blonde last month. I’m thinking I might go red this time. Like natural red, not stripper red. However… no I’m just kidding! I was actually thinking of going dark and adding silver highlights throughout to make myself appear a bit older. I’ll let you know how that goes! 

Love, 

Sweetheart

He’d been so busy laughing at your antics, that he’d almost missed it. 

Love.  

You’d signed it with love.

It wasn’t quite the same as I love you, but it was enough to make his heart race. 

Your fourteenth letter had come when you’d been gone almost four months. 

Hey Tomcat, 

Missing you a bit more today. I am so lonely here. I can’t wait to come home. Tell me something good? I could really use a pick me up.

Got the blues, 

Sweetheart

It was more of a note than a letter, and it worried him. 

Then you’d gone quiet for weeks. 

The team had caught him checking suspicious deaths and homicides all over the country, even though he knew the Marshals would notify him if you were hurt or killed. They hadn’t judged him, in fact, they'd made a map. Each of them had a region of the U.S. to check for any sign of you. 

They each checked daily—religiously—but nothing. 

For six weeks everything was clear and there was no sign of you. No sign was a good sign. 

But then one day Spencer made such a commotion in the bullpen that it could have only been about you. 

“Hotch!” He yelped, “Hotch!” 

He stood up so quickly that his chair had rolled halfway across the room and slammed into Anderson—who just happened to be walking through—then he tripped over his own ankle and stumbled into Morgan who stabilized him quickly. Once righted, he was running through the bullpen and up the stairs. Dave had come out of his office, the others were all standing and even Penelope made an appearance. 

He came stumbling up the stairs and caught himself on the doorframe where he panted briefly before he began to stutter, a string of syllables that didn’t make any sense when put together. 

“Reid.” Aaron said sternly. “Breathe.” 

Spencer took a gasping breath, and then another. 

“Now talk.” 

“I think I found her.” Spencer breathed. 

Aaron felt the whole world cave in around him.

He stood on unsteady legs. 

“Is she…?” He didn’t really know how to finish that sentence. 

Dead?

Alive?

Hurt?

Safe?

God he was clinging to the words safe and alive like a life line. Desperate for them to be true. 

“I don’t know.” Spencer answered. “I’m not even sure if it's her but… I found an article from a local news station in Alabama. There was a triple homicide in a small town, the police are claiming gang violence…”

“But?” Aaron asked nervously. 

“But, witnesses claim a young woman—who has yet to be identified—had been living in the house where the bodies were found. The deceased are all men, late twenties to mid thirties. They’re not from the area, and they were killed with a nine millimeter weapon. Two of them didn’t even make it past the threshold of the home before they were killed, the third was found in the kitchen. Several hand guns with their fingerprints and DNA were found with the bodies. A woman who’d been walking her dog at the time of the shooting said she saw the young woman who had been living in the house flee the scene on foot. Unharmed.” Spencer explained, “But there’s no description of the woman because the police deny her existence.” 

“When did this happen?” Aaron asked. 

“Five weeks ago…” Spencer murmured. 

“It’s her.” He confirmed, “It has to be. I want everyone on this, we don’t stop making calls until we have answers, I don’t care if we have to fly out to Alabama. We don’t rest until we know she’s okay.”

*********************************************************************************************************

Five weeks earlier…

Apparently, rock bottom had a basement… 

And you were living in it. 

They’d found you. 

You’d seen the first of them at a coffee shop, then again at the grocery store and that time he had a friend. You’d next seen them both while out for your run that night at the park. With a third man. 

Once is chance, twice is coincidence, thrice is a pattern. 

You were being followed. 

You did everything Emily had taught you—used every trick in her playbook—but you couldn’t shake them. 

You knew that if they’d been following you all day, they knew where you were staying. So you weren’t hurting anything by going back there, to give yourself an advantage. They were standing across the street, next to a charcoal grey 4Runner that you’d not noticed before. 

Upon closer study, you recognized one of them. He was a known enforcer for the ring. They were definitely there to kill you then. They were probably only waiting for the sun to go down. 

That was their mistake. 

You may have been alone, but you weren’t helpless. 

You barricaded the doors at different strengths to create a time delay, just in case they all came through a different door. You pushed the couch in front of one, a dresser in front of the second and simply hooked a kitchen chair under the knob of the third. Emily had taught you to put something breakable on the edge of whatever you used to barricade the door. So you had put a plate on each one, balancing them precariously so that the slightest movement would send them crashing to the floor.

 The house was laid out in such a way that you could see all three doors from your spot behind the long island in the galley style kitchen. You were using the island itself as cover, crouching behind it, with every weapon you had laid out on the floor in a neat line next to you. There were four; your Glock 19 service weapon, and two more nine millimeters that Aaron had insisted you take with you—which you were so thankful for now—and your own back up, which was a small caliber pocket sized semi automatic pistol.  

You had sent the Marshals an SOS with the burner they’d given you… but you knew there was no way they’d make it to you in time. 

You were on your own.

For the next hour you watched the sunlight drag across the floor, waiting as the shadows grew long and dark. 

Then night fell. 

You didn’t know when they’d come for you. If they would wait until your neighbors were long asleep, or if they’d come now, when everyone was too busy with dinner, showers and other evening routines to notice three men sneaking around in the dark. 

It didn’t matter.

Your hands trembled as you checked each gun one last time, which made it significantly harder. 

You went over your plan, step by step, every possible outcome, situation, and variation. 

It was a plan you’d formed by asking yourself exactly what each member of your team would do, then you’d taken the answers and meshed them all together. 

You just prayed that it’d work. 

The silence was almost suffocating as you waited… but when you heard the tell tale scratch of a lock pick, you nearly jumped out of your skin. 

Your heart pounded so loudly all you could hear was the drumming of it. 

“Listen to me for a second.” Aaron murmured, taking your chin in his hand and looking you in the eyes. “If the time comes when they find you, and running isn’t an option, your fight or flight response will kick in. You’ve never been through something like this before. It isn’t like facing an unsub, it isn’t going to feel the same… There will be no one to protect but yourself, and you will be all alone facing people whose sole purpose is to kill you. You don’t know what your response to that kind of stress will be until it happens. If you start to freeze, I need you to remember how to snap yourself out of it.” 

You could hear him as clearly as if he were there with you, see him in the back of your mind—with the earmuffs and dorky looking safety glasses he’d had on in the shooting range—looking at you so intensely you thought lasers might’ve come out of his eyes. 

“First, If you’re in a situation where you don’t have time for anything else, you cause yourself pain if you have to. Shock your system into reacting differently.” He instructed, then put his hand on your abdomen, just over your diaphragm. “If you’ve got more than a minute, you breathe deep—from right here—in through your nose and you hold it, out through your mouth after four, repeat, and your head should start to clear. Go over everything you know to be true about the situation inside your head and find the easiest solution. Walk yourself through it, step by step, your brain won’t have time to panic if you give it a job to do… Do you understand?” 

You nodded, that yes, you did understand. Then you started to pull away, to go back to the repetition of drawing from your ankle, then your thigh, then your waist and your chest. He held you firm. 

“Promise me that you will shoot to kill. They will not spare you, so do not spare them. You do what is necessary to survive.” He demanded. 

You stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“Aaron…” You hesitated, the last—and only—time you had shot another person—an unsub—you hadn’t shot to kill, only to injure, to subdue. The guilt had haunted you for weeks. 

He knew that.

“Promise me.” He had seemed desperate, there was wild unchecked fear in his eyes where only a moment before there had been determination. “You cannot afford to do anything less.”

“I promise.” You whispered. 

“Good.” 

His words were what brought you back to yourself. 

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs until you felt your diaphragm start to burn as it stretched— 1, 2, 3, 4 —in through your nose, and— 1, 2, 3, 4— out through your mouth.

The facts were that you were alone. You came to terms with that as you took another deep breath and reached for your service weapon, gripping it firmly in your palm. 

There was nothing you could do to change that. 

Three men were about to break in and they would try to kill you. The only thing you could do about that… was kill them first. You turned to face the door where the sound had originated from, and took another breath. 1, 2, 3, 4.

It was the door with the kitchen chair. 1, 2, 3, 4. 

Your gun was aimed and ready when the door knob turned. The chair gave you an extra 30 seconds. 

1, 2, 3, 4.

The plate fell to the floor and shattered with a crash. 

1, 2, 3, 4. 

The door flew open, he’d kicked it in. 

Gun. He had a gun. 

You pulled the trigger seven times.

He dropped to the ground, half of him inside the house, the other half not. 

You looked away.

The others knew you were ready for them now and they were done being subtle. 

A rock flew through the window next to the second door, smashing the glass. Then a booted foot kicked in the rest of it as a man climbed through. 

You saw the shine of gunmetal in his fist as his upper body came into view. 

That was all you needed to see. 

You emptied the mag on him, pulling the trigger until it clicked and the slide locked in the open position. 

He fell across the window sill, hanging there limply like a ragdoll. Blood was dripping to the floor… he was dead. 

Your ears started ringing, your chest was tight. 

Breathe. 

In 1, 2, 3, 4.

Out 1, 2, 3, 4. 

Wait. 

Where was the third man?

Something stung your arm and glass shattered in the cabinet slightly in front of you. 

Turning around you saw that the third man had snuck in—stepping over the body of the first—and was waiting just inside the door with his gun pointed in your direction. 

You went to fire, but realized you were empty. Ducking behind the counter just as he pulled the trigger, you grabbed your second gun and steadied yourself. 

Bullets peppered the other side of the counter, which–luckily–was thick enough to protect you. You picked up the other two guns, stuffing the smallest one into your bra and the second one into your waist band. The empty one you left on the floor. 

From his position, he couldn’t see as you crouched and made your way out of the kitchen–carefully avoiding the casings strown around you–and into the adjacent dining room, where you took up a position behind the wall. Just beside the doorframe. 

You were panting, your heart was racing, blood rushing in your ears. 

1, 2, 3, 4. 

1, 2, 3, 4. 

You closed your eyes. 

Crickets were chirping in the yard, the wind was blowing—you could hear it in your neighbors wind chimes—but inside, the house was silent. 

Until you heard the floor creak, then the crunch of broken glass, the click of a fresh mag being loaded, the slide and snap of a round being chambered. 

He was coming. 

You heard his footsteps–light, but not silent–making their way through the living room and toward the kitchen. 

He didn’t know you’d moved, didn’t know you had three more guns and extra rounds… but if he were smart, he’d count on it. 

The dining room connected to the hallway your bedroom was in, which in turn connected to the living room. 

Your feet were silent as you crept through to the hall and waited there until he was nearly in the kitchen. Then you ducked into the living room and crouched behind the recliner. You could see him now—as you peeked around the side of the chair—his back was to you, and he had almost made it around the island to your former position. 

“What the fuck?!” He hissed as he realized you were no longer there. 

You stood from your crouch and took aim. 

But you would not shoot a man in the back. 

“Over here, fucker.” 

He whipped around in your direction, and it was the last thing he ever did.

Before you did anything else, you checked all three bodies… just to be sure they were really dead. 

When you were certain of that fact, you went to the room you’d considered yours for the last five months and grabbed your bag. 

The one you’d never unpacked, the one that sat just inside the door, ready to be taken at a moment's notice. 

It held clothes, shoes, a new burner phone, and the manila envelope JJ had given you. 

As well as the letter’s from your team.

Then you made your way back to the kitchen, picked up your empty service weapon and put it in the bag.

You called the Marshals as you walked out the door, stepping over the first dead man as you went. 

“I’m alive.” Was the first thing you said when your contact answered. “They’re not.”

“We’re almost there, just fifteen minutes out.” She responded, “Are you hurt?” 

You didn’t actually know the answer to that. So you took a moment to check for injuries that the adrenaline was still concealing. 

Blood had bloomed on your sleeve. 

You pulled your sleeve up and saw that it was just a graze. 

“I’m fine.” You answered her. “Tell my team that I’m okay. I’ll make contact when I’m sure I’m safe.” 

“Agent, stay put. We’ll be there to get you in just a few minutes.” She instructed. 

“I can’t do that.” You disagreed. “I don’t know if there are more of them, but they know where I am. That may not be the program’s fault, but if it is… I’m safer on my own.” 

“Agent! Don’t-” You hung up on her, mid sentence, and dropped the old burner on the side walk. 

Then you disappeared into the night.

*************************************************************************************************************

Aaron was going to lose his mind. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HER?” 

Derek was shouting at the Marshal on the other end of the line. 

“We didn’t lose her. She went off grid… on purpose. We’ve been looking for her for five weeks… apparently she’s really good at disappearing.” The man said. 

“Five weeks that we could have been helping you look for her!” Prentiss chimed in. 

They were both irate, the whole team was. Aaron most of all. 

Not that you’d gone off on your own, he understood why you’d done it. Or he understood the way your mind worked enough to put together your reasoning… 

If you were the only person who knew where you were, then the only person who could give you up was yourself. 

Not to mention they’d given you everything you needed to pull it off. 

He was almost proud of you. 

Garcia had been looking for hours and there was no trace of you. 

You’d pulled all the money from your actual bank accounts while still in Alabama, everyone already knew you were there. There was no harm in that now. Then you’d gone completely radio silent. Using cash for everything, and never leaving anything of yourself behind. 

It was like trying to find an unsub… 

An unsub?

An Unsub!

“I’ll be in touch with your superiors.” He said and hung up the phone. 

“I was not through with them yet!” Derek complained. 

“Neither am I, but I just realized we’re doing this all wrong.” Aaron muttered. 

“What do you mean?” Emily asked. 

“We know her, we know her as a person and an agent. But not a victim. Or… an unsub.” He said.  

“You want us to profile her?” JJ asked. “That feels… invasive.”

Everyone turned and looked at her with various degrees of incredulity. 

“But given the circumstances…” She murmured. 

“Okay, if she were an unsub, where would we start?” Rossi prompted. 

“Well usually we’d start with victimology… but she is the victim.” Reid pondered that for a moment before continuing. “Unless we treat the men she killed as victims… but we can’t because they’re the aggressors here. So we treat her as if she is a victim.” 

In the last several hours they’d gained access to the actual crime scene reports from the safe house in Alabama. The pictures were splayed out on the round table. 

“The question is, why did she run? In Alabama, the stand your ground law makes everything she did perfectly legal. They had weapons they kicked in her door and broke her window. Even if the police had arrived before the marshals got there to clear everything up, she would have been fine. Safer even! Especially if she’d had her creds laid out where the cops could see them! I don’t get it.” Morgan grumbled. 

But Aaron knew the answer to that question. 

“She ran to protect us, and the case. She knew after that happened—and she clearly was no longer safe in WITSEC—that we would try to bring her home and protect her ourselves. Which she believes would be too dangerous and jeopardize the case.” He murmured. “What we need to figure out is where she would go. Where would she feel safest and in control? She only had about three thousand in her account before she pulled it all out, that won’t last long. Not if she’s using it for travel, food, shelter and everything else she might need. Reid, how long would that last her?” 

Reid barely thought about it for a couple seconds. 

“Assuming she’s been staying in hotels, she’d already be out.” He stated, “However, if she were able to find an apartment to rent that takes cash under the table, bought cheap food and utilities… She’d make it about three months, maybe four before she had to get a job or give up and come home. She’d be safer on her own if she kept moving though, so I am going to say hotels make more sense. Especially since she’d want to get out of Alabama and get as far away as possible.” 

“Well, she can’t leave the country, not without us knowing about it. JJ had Penelope cross all the flight records with the identities she gave her. She didn’t take a train either. Cabs would be too expensive… So a bus line would make sense. She could travel from coast to coast in just over two days without having to stop overnight.” Emily pondered, then asked, “Reid, how much would that cost her?” 

“Anywhere from two hundred to six hundred dollars, but she’d go as cheap as possible so I’d guess at two hundred.” He rattled off. 

“She wouldn’t go anywhere she knows the ring has a presence.” Rossi said, “So we can rule out any city that came up in our investigation before she went undercover.” 

Aaron had this nagging thought in the back of his mind, and it took him a minute to pin it down.

“ I might get a job, just to stave off the boredom. Maybe waitressing or something? I really only have the skill set for two jobs. Neither of them is a good option for me right now though. Both of them got me into this mess. So here we are.”

You wouldn’t… would you? 

He thought about it for a long minute and came to the conclusion that yes, you would. 

You might even do it for fun. 

If it kept you off the street… he wouldn’t complain. 

“We need to check the strip clubs.” 

Every head in the room turned his way. 

“What makes you say that?” Derek asked. 

Aaron sighed, dragging a hand down his face. 

“Something she said to me in a letter… about only having the skill set for two jobs.” He shook his head. “And if she’s going to need money soon… what better way to get cash without a digital trail?” 

“She’s qualified for way more than either profiling or stripping…” Emily scowled. 

“I’m well aware of that.” Aaron scowled back at her. “She meant it as a joke… I hope. However, stripping is the only thing she has experience in that doesn’t require a social security number, a degree and a W-4. There’s anonymity in it.” 

“How am I supposed to track that?” Garcia asked. “If she’s left no digital trace of herself I can’t find her.” 

Aaron didn’t have an answer to that, he didn’t have an answer to any of this. 

“Aaron…” Dave said gently from across the table, getting his attention. “You told me to remain objective… and that's just as hard for me as it is for everyone else—except you—but those were the orders you gave me. Would you like to hear my objective professional opinion?” 

No… He already knew what Dave was going to say… and he was feeling a little petulant about it. However, Aaron knew he’d assigned him this role for a reason. 

He gave a slight nod of confirmation. 

“We are not going to find her until she wants to be found. You remember how hard it was to find Emily when she went AWOL…” Dave hedged. 

“I worked for Interpol though, undercover on an arms dealer bust. That’s a whole different playing field and I had a lot of training, she only had a day.” Emily reminded him. 

“Yes, but the circumstances were different. You had a different goal than she has. You wanted to end things before the rest of us got caught up in it. But we got her caught up in this… and while she probably feels like she’s protecting us… her main goal is to disappear and wait it out.” Dave disagreed. “And you taught her how. You all did. She said she’d make contact when it was safe for her to do so… let’s give her the chance. We know she’s alive. We don’t need to know where she is, that only puts her in danger.”

He was right.

Aaron hated that he was right—and so it seemed, did everyone else.

“So what?” Spencer asked apprehensively, “We just work the case until we make the big arrests and we can bring her home?” 

The room was silent. No one wanted to answer. 

“That’s exactly what we do.” Aaron murmured. 

He spent the rest of the day in his office, scouring over every single detail of every piece of evidence they had. Just trying to put something together, anything that would lead them to the ring leader. 

He didn’t leave the office until nine. 

He stopped briefly in the lobby of his apartment building to pick up the mail, it’d be bills, and nothing more so he didn’t bother to look through it. Just made his way upstairs and quietly let himself inside. 

Jess was sitting on the couch watching the nine o’clock news, which would be going off soon. Jack was already in bed. Dinner was on the table. 

Jess was a saint.

“Was Jack good today?” He asked as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“Isn’t he always?” She quipped, turning to rest her arms on the back of the couch. 

He barely found it in him to smile. 

“I guess he is.” He murmured. 

“Bad day?” She asked. 

He just nodded. 

“Wanna talk about it?” She offered, getting up and following him to the table. 

“I do actually… but unfortunately it's classified.” He sighed, tossing the stack of mail down on the table where it scattered slightly, then sinking down into his chair. 

“Oh… well, if there were something else… that’s not classified… I’m a very good listener…” She hinted. 

At what? Aaron didn’t know, and he wasn’t in the mood to sort it out, so he started shoveling food onto his plate. 

“Like what?” He asked anyway, humoring her because he knew she would continue whether he asked or not. 

“Like what happened between you and that girl you were seeing?” She pried. 

He groaned. 

“We’re… still together… but I can’t talk about it.” He shrugged. 

“Oh don’t you dare try to tell me your love life is classified , Aaron!” Jess exclaimed in mock outrage. “You’ve been moping around here for five months! I’m worried.” 

He laughed then, a broken, awful sound that had Jess shrinking in her chair. 

“It is classified, actually. She is currently classified. Legally . She’s in witness protection—or she’s supposed to be—and I’m living a nightmare all over again! And you are the one person I actually want to tell, because you’d actually understand, but I cannot tell you anything because it’s fucking classified!” He ranted frustratedly, his voice hardening to a tone he never used in this home. Definitely not with Jack and Jess. 

She was staring at him—wide eyed—from across the table.

“Jess…” He murmured, softening toward her and reaching a hand across the table. “I’m so sorry, I’m… it doesn’t matter, there’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. No matter what I’m dealing with.” 

She took his hand. 

“It’s alright Aaron.” She said quietly, forgiveness in her eyes. “If it ever becomes unclassified I’ll be right here, ready to hear you out.” 

Aaron felt like he might cry. So he looked down at his plate. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

“She’ll be okay…” Jess whispered back. “I mean, I don’t know the details, obviously. But I have to believe that the same horror won’t strike twice. So she will be okay.” 

He nodded. 

“She can take care of herself, and there is no one there for her to protect but herself. That gives her an advantage that- that Haley… didn’t have. She’ll be okay.” He said, and he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. 

She let him eat in silence for a long while before she spoke again. 

“That’s strange…” She muttered, almost to herself. 

“What’s that?” He asked, looking up. 

“This letter.” She said, holding it up to the light. “Someone must have misaddressed it, and there’s no return address.” 

“I don’t know…” He shrugged, going back to his food. 

“I wonder who Tomcat is?” She murmured curiously. 

Aaron dropped his fork, the rattle of it against his plate startling Jess. 

“What did you say?” He breathed. 

“I wonder who Tomcat is??” She repeated herself. Confusion all over her face. 

Aaron was around the table and at her side in seconds. 

“I need that.” He said, gently slipping it from between her fingers. 

“Okay?” She intoned. 

“It’s her. The letter is from her. I’m Tomcat, it's an inside joke… I… I’m sorry I really need to read this. She’d been missing for five weeks.” He mumbled.

Saying more than he should in his haste to read your letter. 

“Oh my God.” Jess gasped. “Go ahead!” 

He made his way to the couch and tore into the envelope. 

Hey there Tomcat,

I know you must be… pretty mad at me right now… and I’m so sorry. I hate knowing that you’re probably worried sick over me, but I couldn’t afford to make contact until now. There was a fourth assailant, he never made it into the house. He followed me half way across the country before I lost him. (Do me a favor and give my tutor a raise or something, she earned it.) 

I’m safe now. I tricked the fucker and he got on a bus to New York, a bus that I was not on, I went the other direction. I wish I could tell you where… but you know I can’t. I can tell you that I’m settled, I spent the last of my cash on a cute little apartment, a lot like mine at home. Don’t worry, I have a plan and I intend to enact it tonight. (I can feel your brow furrowing from here, I said don’t worry you big softie. I’m fine.) 

I miss you everyday, I promise to keep writing letters. Even if you can’t write any in return. I’ll keep telling you all about my little adventures, because writing to you makes me feel like I’m actually talking to you. Like you’re really here somehow. 

I’ll be watching the news every chance I get, waiting for it to be safe for me to come home. I can’t wait to come home to you… I watch old press conferences of yours just to hear your voice. To see your face. I get excited when a new one pops up on the internet when I search your name. It's weird but it brings me comfort. I can’t wait to hear you tell me to come home. It’ll be the best day.  Be safe, I’ll write again soon.

Love, 

Sweetheart

This was dated a week ago. You were okay. 

You were alive.  

“She’s alive.” He whispered, barely louder than a breath. 

And then his shoulders were shaking, his hands trembling. 

A tear drop landed on the page. 

He was overcome with relief.

A hand lit softly on his shoulder. 

He covered it with his own and let Jess offer him silent comfort as he sobbed. 

*************************************************************************************************************

You missed Aaron. 

His letters had been the only thing you had to look forward to. 

Now you could only reread the old ones. 

You’d memorized them by now, and you could call them to memory as easily as Spencer recalled medieval poems he read once ten years ago. 

Dear Sweetheart,  

I miss you too. Work is quiet without you. I never thought a quiet office would feel like a bad thing… but it does. The fact that boredom has driven you to running concerns me. I like your other solution though… I can just hear the way you say my name as you fall apart. 

As for the Whale Sharks… There will be pay back for that, because you’re right, Reid did in fact regale us with facts about them… for days. It was so bad, Morgan actually went home and watched the documentary so that he could annoy Spencer by finishing his sentences correctly and taking the fun out of it. I’ve had to referee the two of them at least ten times this week because of it. 

Rossi asks me every week which recipe he should send you next. I’ll tell him he should make his instructions extra detailed from now on. I actually enjoy cooking, of course I have Jack so I did have to learn, but I do agree. Baking is easier, and more fun because Jack likes to help. I can’t wait for the day you get to meet him, as more than just a colleague of mine. He’ll adore you, I’m sure. 

Your past job experience may have gotten you into this mess… but you sure did look good doing it. I wouldn’t mind seeing you reprise that role in the future. As for your hair, stripper red would look great on you, red always looks great on you. However, I am of the opinion that it doesn’t matter what your hair looks like, or whether you have any at all. You’ll always be the prettiest girl in whatever room you’re in. Especially to me. 

Love, 

Tomcat

That one had been your favorite. Though you’d memorized them all, he always managed to make you smile and laugh… even on paper. 

You missed hearing from him more than anything. 

Speaking of reprising the role…

You were stripping again, this time though… it was to make ends meet.

But if this night got any worse… you swore you’d quit. 

There was another club just down the road, a club that would gladly take you on. You’d had just about enough of the bouncers here. They didn’t take care of the dancers, didn’t care to, they had nothing to hide. No illegal operations in the back rooms. Just the occasional stripper trying to make a few extra bucks in the parking lot, but as long as it wasn’t in the building, it wasn’t any of their business. They didn’t even care about the things that went on inside to be truthful. They only cared about the money, and about the customers the girls brought in. 

“Hey Kit?” Someone called, but you didn’t register it. “Kit Kat, you okay?”  

You were too busy trying to get your hair untangled from the rhinestones on your bra strap. 

“Ughhh! This fucking bra!” You cursed under your breath. 

“Here let me help.” A hand took your elbow and guided you over to a chair in the dressing room. 

You glanced up at Cinna, the most senior dancer at the club. (Cinna Buns if you were wondering… they liked food themed personas in this club for some reason.)

“Thanks, I hair-whipped a little too close to the sun I’m afraid.” You joked, and she gave a soft laugh. “I tried to get it out, but I only made it worse…” 

“You sure did…” She murmured, shaking her head as her fingers deftly separated the tiny tangles. She worked in silence for a few minutes, then… “You seem upset tonight…”

You sighed. 

“Had a bad interaction with a customer, nothing I can’t handle.” You muttered. 

“Is that all?” She asked. 

“No… but… It’s complicated.” You murmured, shrugging. 

“Well, on the bright side… It’s two o’clock, we’ve got an hour until close, and it’s Saturday night. Which means we aren’t open tomorrow!” She said cheerfully. “Don’t be so glum Kit Kat!” 

You hated that nickname. 

The identity you were using in this town was Kathrine Kittridge. You’d decided to use Kit as a Stripper persona because it was cutesy and a kit was a term for a fox pup, which reminded you of Vixen… which reminded you of Aaron. But the other girls had taken to calling you Kit Kat when you’d introduced yourself… It was the bane of your existence. 

And you’d been dealing with it for five months. 

That’s right, another five months had passed and you were still stripping in a small po-dunk town in the middle of nowhere Wyoming. 

You’d been the shiny new toy, and all the patrons couldn’t seem to get enough of you. They’d start making jokes about taking a bite out of you, and saying how Kit Kats were their favorite candy… 

Needless to say, it’d been a long five months with no end in sight. 

You could always pick up and move again. 

There was no point though. You were safe here. 

That’s all that mattered. 

Even if you hated it.

And you did hate it. 

“Yeah… that makes it so much better.” You muttered sarcastically. 

“Why don’t you go on home… Just sneak out the back, if anyone asks I’ll tell them I sent you home cause you got sick.” Cinna offered. 

“You would do that?” You asked. 

She nodded. 

“Girl, it's really not a big deal. Just go. Maybe Monday night will be better– Woah… What is going on there?” She was looking up at the tv mounted in the corner. 

A red banner was scrolling across the bottom of the screen that was playing a body cam clip of a SWAT team kicking in a door. Then it cut to a blonde reporter in a blue suit dress, she was standing on a sidewalk with a large group of reporters behind her. They were surrounding a podium. 

The banner read:

“Breaking News: Joint Investigation With DEA And FBI Lead To Major Raids in Connecticut.”

Your heart stopped. 

“Oh my god, turn that up! Where’s the remote?” You scrambled for it when you saw it laying on a vanity across the room. You turned the volume up to an ungodly volume, determined not to miss a single word.  

“Ladies and Gentleman, we’re coming to you live from the scene as The FBI is about to give a press conference in regards to several major raids they executed tonight in coordination with the DEA. Oh, here they come.” The reporter said, and the camera zoomed in on the podium. 

There he was. 

Looking exhausted, but every bit as good as the day you left. 

Aaron stepped up to the podium, JJ at his side and cleared his throat. 

“Early this morning, my team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, along with a team from Organized Crime, and a team from the DEA made several key arrests in connection with a drug trafficking ring that we have been actively investigating for a little over a year now. That's all I can say at this time.” He said, and then he walked away. 

“Wait! Agent Hotchner! Agent Hotchner!?” The reporters called out. 

“We can’t answer any questions at this time. This is still an active case until trial, there will be an update once dates are set. For now we have witnesses to protect.” JJ said and then she followed him. 

“Oh my God…” You whispered. 

“You okay Kit?” Cinna asked. 

“No… yes? I- I don’t know…” You muttered. “Ya know what… I think I am gonna head out.” 

You hurried to put on street clothes and gathered all your things and then you made your way across the street and two blocks down. Where your apartment was located. 

You’d picked it specifically for its proximity to the club.

When you locked the door behind you, you leaned against it and sank to the floor. 

It was more important now than ever for you to lay low. All the initial arrests, and evidence would get thrown out without your testimony. Without those arrests and evidence… 

There was no case for the arrests made tonight. 

Which meant all someone needed to do to stop the trials… 

Was to kill you. 

It was time to move again. 

*************************************************************************************************************

It had taken five more months but they’d finally done it. 

They’d gotten the confessions, signed affidavits, critical evidence and arrest warrants they needed to bring the ring to its knees. Now that they’d made the actual arrests…

He was one step closer to bringing you home. 

The only problem was, after the raid was over and they’d been sorting evidence, they found a dossier. 

A dossier about you.

They were still looking for you, and they’d done their research. 

They knew where you’d grown up, where you’d gone to college, where your apartment was (you wouldn’t be going back there now he’d make sure of that), the car you drove, and everything right down to the color of your eyes. 

And they’d put a hit out on you.

Not a public hit… which he would think was a good thing.

Except… 

They’d hired a professional. 

A career hitman. 

With way too many confirmed kills for Aaron’s comfort… and he’d never been caught. 

Apparently, after you’d killed three of their men so easily, and evaded the fourth as simply as you had, they’d decided you were worth the money this guy cost. 

He had a reward for information on you posted on the darknet. It had pictures of you from your time at the strip club. 

Garcia had taken it down multiple times… but he just kept putting it back up. So, she had started sending him random tips. 

The team had been looking for him for a week when Aaron had gotten a letter from you. 

Dear Tomcat, 

I got your message and I’m taking the appropriate measures. I think someone is after me. They were really close too… I don’t know how they could’ve found me. I have been laying low as dirt for five months. I’ve left no trace of myself anywhere. Whoever they are…

They’re good. 

I left my little hideaway before dawn the night I saw your press conference. I bought a police scanner when I moved there… out of boredom… You wouldn’t believe how entertaining that can be in a very small town in Wyoming. Yes, I was in WY, it was the most agonizing five months of my life. Anyway, I have a police scanner, and I was listening to it on my way out of town. They called in a structure fire… at my apartment. I’d only been gone for thirty minutes. They must’ve not seen me leave. 

The good thing is, I made it out, and I’m safe now. I made so many stops and so many detours it took me three days to get where I am now. It will not be an easy trail to follow. I still don’t know how they found me again to begin with. I was going by a false name, I didn’t sign anything, buy anything big or register anything to that name. I used cash for everything… I truly don’t know. It can’t possibly be these letters, I don’t ever put a return address. I guess I will just have to get a new place and only leave for food. Setting a trial date shouldn’t take that long? Right? I have plenty of cash, if it only takes a couple months… God I hope it only takes a couple months. I miss you so much. All of you, I didn’t even realize how important our team is to me… How much space they hold in my heart. Tell them how much I miss them? It's been so long… 

I check online everyday to see if trial dates have been set. I’ll be counting the days when they are. It’s getting late, and this hotel bed is calling my name. 

With all my love,

Sweetheart

Aaron had felt panic crawling up his spine, squeezing his heart, and flooding his brain. He took the letter to Dave immediately and the man’s face had paled visibly as he’d read it. 

“That’s too close of a call.” Rossi murmured. “We need to get her back here.” 

“We can’t.” Aaron whispered. “The only way to contact her successfully is to hold a press conference. If we do that, he’ll be watching too. He’ll know she’s coming home and he’ll be waiting.”

Dave threw his arms out wide and looked at Aaron in disbelief. 

“So what, we just leave her out there with no warning of what's coming for her?” He asked. 

Aaron ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. 

“I don’t see what other choice we have. They are both watching everything we put online and on television right now. Everything she has access to, he does as well.” Aaron explained. “The only choice we have is to wait for them both to come to us. She has managed to stay ahead of him this far and she didn’t even know he existed… now that she does? My money is on her.” 

Four months later. 

Aaron’s hands were shaking, his palms sweating, he was so nauseous he felt the urge to swallow every five to ten seconds… and there was still no sign of you. 

Or the hitman out to kill you. 

Court would be in session in 45 minutes and you were the first witness on the docket. 

You’d written him a letter that he’d received yesterday. 

Dear Tomcat, 

I’ve been in contact with the D.A. on a secure line. We’ve gone over my testimony multiple times, and she’s confident that I’ll do well during cross examination with the defense. I wish I could talk to you about it. I’m nervous. I know you’ll be there, but I’m sure I won’t see you until it’s all over as I’ll be sequestered as soon as I arrive. She says that you’re all still worried  about a possible attempt on my life before the trial starts. But I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of anyone suspicious since Wyoming, so I’m not as concerned as I probably should be. I’ll be as cautious as I can getting to the court house, I’ll wear a disguise so good, even you won’t recognize me.

I can’t believe it's almost over. Fourteen months. We had two days and we’ve been apart for fourteen months. I can’t even imagine how it will feel to finally see you again. To hear your voice straight from your lips instead of through a television or a computer. To feel your arms around me, your hands on me. I haven’t heard from you in nine months—I know that isn’t your fault—but I am… nervous. The day I left you said to me that the way you felt with me is something you would wait decades to feel, I hope you were sincere. This has felt like decades to me… 

It seems like a lifetime since someone called me by name, smiled at me with the familiarity of someone who truly knows me, or was able to offer me a true connection… I don't know if I am even capable of maintaining a friendship any more… or something more. 

But then I remind myself that I have written to a man who cannot respond to me for almost a year, with nothing but a hope that he’s receiving my letters and smiling as he reads them. I think… and I hope this is not true… but I think I have fallen in love with the idea of you. See, I know you… as a boss… as a sexual partner… as a friend, but I’m afraid that I’ve built up this perfect image of you in my mind. What if the way I remember you is very different from who you’ve become while I’ve been gone? A person can change a lot in a year. I know I have. 

I’m harder now, I used to be light and soft. Playful. I don’t think I know how to be those things anymore. What if you find that I am not the same woman I was fourteen months ago? What if you don’t like the woman I’ve become? I still miss you everyday. So that has to count for something, right? Even if it is all in my head. 

With nervous anticipation and so much excitement I could die, 

Sweetheart

The letter had wrecked him. 

He lived and breathed for your letters. The wait for their arrival was like purgatory… the worst kind of hell. 

The time between them seemed to stretch into oblivion, because by the time the letters got to him, he knew that you’d been alive a week before. Though, he had no clue if you were still breathing as he read them. 

He missed you terribly. 

And to see you doubt that in any way… it broke his heart a little. 

He knew that you’d had a tough year, it’d been tough for him as well in completely opposite ways. He would just have to take his time convincing you that nothing had changed for him, and he still wanted you as badly now as he had when you’d left. 

“Hotch, I got movement on the roof of the building across the street.” Morgan murmured into his radio, his voice breaking through Aaron’s thoughts. “I’m going up to check it out.” 

Aaron looked up toward the roof in question from where he was standing on the steps of the courthouse, sure enough, there was a man up there. Aaron couldn’t tell what he was doing from this distance, but the fact that he was up there at all was enough to warrant suspicion. 

“Be careful Morgan.” Aaron responded, as he began to scan the crowd more diligently, looking for any sign of you. 

The crowd was thickening more and more as the time drew closer to nine. People showing up for work, people showing up for court, or both. It was getting harder and harder to pick through all the faces and see that they were not yours. Nearly three minutes passed and Aaron kept anxiously glancing to the roof. 

“It’s just a maintenance guy, he’s up here trying to see if he can’t get the AC fixed without having to call an HVAC service.” Morgan finally said into the radio. “It's nothing.”

Aaron relaxed infinitesimally, but he kept scanning, kept studying the crowd.

It was getting louder and louder every minute, the steps were filling up and the line to get through the metal detectors at the door was getting long. Aaron wiped his sweaty palms against the fabric of his slacks, it didn’t help… but it made him feel slightly less panicky. 

“I think I’ve got something…” JJ murmured. 

“Him, or her?” Prentiss asked. 

“Her.” JJ answered.

Aaron stopped breathing. 

“Where?” He whispered. 

“About a hundred feet to your left coming up the sidewalk on the north side of the building.” She answered. 

He turned, searching through the crowd, but the faces all blurred together. 

“Description?” He murmured, his voice cracking and his heart trying to beat its way free of his chest. 

“Black pantsuit, with a red silk blouse, her hair is jet black, she’s got on sunglasses, the big bug-eyed ones like what Prentiss wears.” JJ listed, earning a disgruntled hey from Prentiss. “I’m not entirely sure because her face is obscured and she’s farther away from me than you… but the walk is familiar.” 

Red silk blouse, big sunglasses, jet black hair. 

He scanned the crowd over and over, until he found the woman in question.

“That’s not her.” He muttered. “Wrong height, and that’s not her nose.” 

“Wait.” Reid said, his voice cutting through the crowd. “I’ve got her and I’m positive it’s her. She’s behind you Hotch, already in line to go into the court house. Black pencil skirt, white blouse with flowy sleeves, blazer draped over her arm. She’s wearing a black headband and glasses, real glasses not sunglasses. She’s wearing heels… of some sort. Black tights. About fifty feet from you.” 

Aaron whipped around in the direction of the line and made to stride in your direction, he hadn’t even found you yet but if Spencer was sure… he was sure. 

“Hotch stop.” Prentiss warned. “Don’t go over there, look away from her now and walk away. I’ve got a suspicious man on the roof across from Morgan. Fuck… This one is for real. He’s got a gun.” 

“Can you take him out?” Aaron was already moving… and not in the direction he wanted to be. 

He was headed for that roof. 

“I don’t have a shot.” Prentiss muttered. 

She was on the roof of the courthouse in a sniper nest of her own. Not her usual role… but he had wanted to be on the ground where he could protect you. 

“If you get one, you take it.” He ordered her. 

There were no other teams out there, just them. So there was no chance that this guy was another agent, or a cop. It had to be the hitman. 

“Morgan can you–”

“Not before you, but I’ll be right behind you.” Morgan answered him without even needing to hear the full question. 

“Hurry Hotch.” Emily’s voice was a little bit panicked. “I think he sees her.” 

“Fuck!” Aaron hissed. “Still no shot?” 

He was running now, down the sidewalk to the entrance to the other building, as fast as he could go. 

“I could wound him! Graze his shoulder, that’s about it!” She explained. 

“Take it!” He ordered. “Spencer, use the chaos to get her inside! Do it fast!” 

“Emily, he's seen Aaron, and he’s lining up a shot on her, if you’re gonna do it, do it now!” Rossi’s voice was frantic. 

Aaron felt like he was running through water, every step felt heavy and seemed to take ages. He was running but he wasn’t moving fast enough! Like a cartoon character. 

“Emily!” He called. 

“I’ve got it!” She answered. 

The shot rang out through the street like a thunderclap, and panic ensued. 

“Spencer, get her inside! JJ help him!” Aaron called. 

But he kept running. The faces of people only blurs of color as he went flying by. 

When he reached the lobby of the building the man was on he flashed his badge at the desk worker. 

“Roof access?!?” He demanded. 

The girl pointed to a stairwell, and Aaron flew. 

“I’m a couple minutes behind you Hotch!” Morgan warned him. “I’m coming as fast as I can!” 

“We have her! We’re taking her to the sublevel of the courthouse, no windows.” Spencer explained. 

Aaron felt the ability to breathe return to him and he ran faster. Climbing the steps three at a time. His footsteps sounded like a herd of elephants. The emergency exit signs were washing the stairs in red light. It was ominous. 

There was no way this guy was getting away, not on his watch. Not today. 

You would be safe after today. 

He would make sure of it. 

He stopped—briefly—at the top of the staircase to catch his breath. He could hear Morgan thundering up behind him.

He opened the door, gun drawn, and slipped out onto the roof. 

He didn’t see anyone. 

“Hotch! Look out!” Emily cried. 

Something struck him on the back of the head and his vision blurred. He fell to the concrete of the rooftop, the breath he’d just regained fleeing his chest in a rush. His gun skittering away from him. 

“Hotch!” Emily shouted again. “Morgan hurry!” 

“I’m almost there!” Derek panted. 

Aaron rolled, just as a boot came slamming down onto the concrete where his head had been only a moment before. He kicked out to the side, swiping the man's legs out from under him. Then launching himself on top of the assailant as he hit the ground. Aaron straddled the guy, and did not hesitate as he began throwing punches. 

He didn’t see the gun. 

Not until it was pointed at his face. 

*************************************************************************************************************

The first gunshot had pulled your attention to the roof of the courthouse. Which is why you didn’t realize it was Spencer who took you by the arm… and why you threw a reactive punch… right to his nose. 

“Ouch!” He yelped. “It’s just me!” 

He doubled over grabbing his nose for a second before he grabbed you again and hauled you forward. Then a blur of blonde was at your other side, covering you. 

“Move!” JJ urged you, pushing you toward the building. Forcing through the panicked crowd. “Get to the door!” 

You didn’t argue, didn’t waste time apologizing to Spencer who was now bleeding. You just made a break for the door, the two of them in tow. JJ flashed her badge to the security guard. “Material witness! She’s the target, let us in now!” 

The man didn’t argue, just opened the door. No one cared that the three of you set off the metal detectors as you crossed the threshold. Spencer was dragging and JJ was pushing as they forced you inside and then Spencer found an elevator. He pushed the down arrow. 

They crowded you against the door until you were leaning against it, covering you with their bodies, and when the door opened the three of you fell inside together. They didn’t move to get off of you until the doors closed. 

“We have her! We’re taking her to the sublevel of the courthouse, no windows.” Spencer said into his sleeve—where you realized his radio receiver must be—then covered his nose again as blood dripped onto his shirt. 

“What just happened?” You panted, looking at both of them with wide eyes. “Was someone shooting at me?” 

Not that it would’ve been shocking after the year that you’d had… but to do it from the roof of the courthouse. That was insane. 

“No. That was Emily.” JJ muttered, then she held up a hand and covered her free ear. She was listening to something intently.

“Emily?” You asked Spencer quietly. 

He nodded. 

“She shot at the man on the other roof who was about to shoot you.” He explained. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, fuck. 

That was close.

“Shit. Hotch is going up there without back up. Morgan is minutes behind.” JJ muttered. 

“What!?!” You gasped and then you scrambled to Spencer’s side and snatched his ear piece. 

He didn’t argue. 

“Hotch! Look out!” Emily cried. 

You heard Aaron grunt in pain and the oxygen evacuated your lungs.

“Hotch!” Emily shouted again. “Morgan hurry!” 

“I’m almost there!” Derek panted. 

“What’s happening?!” You heard Rossi demand. 

And then there was a gunshot. 

“Hotch!” Emily screamed. 

Then everything went silent. 

You, JJ, and Reid stared at each other in terror for several seconds. 

“We got him.” Morgan’s voice came through the ear piece. 

But that was not the voice you needed to hear. 

You grabbed Spencer’s wrist and hauled it up to your face. 

“Aaron?! Aaron Hotchner, you speak to me right this second!” You demanded, your voice cracking as you strangled on barely choked back sobs. 

It was quiet for a moment longer and panic squeezed your heart. 

“Aaron!” You called again, desperately. 

“I’m here, baby. I’m fine. Take a breath.” His voice flooded your whole body with relief. 

You slumped against Spencer and sobbed. 

“Is she okay?” You heard Aaron ask.

“Yeah.” JJ murmured, a soothing hand on your shoulder. “She’s got blood on her, but it’s Reid’s. She bloodied his nose when he tried to pull her out of the line and into the building, didn’t realize it was him.” 

You heard Morgan chuckle quietly, but you couldn’t get your emotions back under control. The thought that you were so close… and yet you’d almost lost him at the last second. Just when you were finally going to be able to be together. 

It had wrecked you. 

“We’re taking him in. Stay with her, don’t leave her side until she’s on the stand.” Aaron instructed JJ. “Dave, you stay too. Prentiss you’re with us.” 

The next thirty minutes were a blur. 

JJ had produced a different blouse from somewhere and helped you get into it, while Rossi and Spencer guarded the door. 

Your hands couldn’t stop shaking and you could barely breathe. 

It wasn’t because you’d almost been killed. 

You’d actually gotten used to that feeling and had learned how to push through it… as terrifying as that was. 

No, it was because Aaron had almost been killed trying to protect you, and you didn’t think you’d be able to get it together. Not until you saw him with your own eyes, and saw that he was uninjured. 

Is this how he had felt all these months? Especially after you’d disappeared in Alabama? 

Like his chest was caving in and the only way to stop it was to see you?

You hoped not. 

You couldn’t imagine doing something so cruel to him. Not on purpose. 

By the time the Bailiff came in search of you, you’d calmed down enough to speak and coherently answer questions. Though that tightness in your chest never truly left. 

When you took the stand, the Prosecutor didn’t even have time to ask you a single question before JJ came rushing—quietly—into the courtroom. She waved the prosecution over and she listened as JJ whispered in her ear and handed her a file. 

“Your Honor.” The attorney addressed the judge. “Side Bar?” 

“Approach the bench.” The judge rumbled, he was an older man with a jowled neck… He looked like a fat turkey. 

Both the Prosecution and the Defense approached and she handed the judge the file she’d received from JJ. 

“Your honor, this morning before court there was yet another attempt on my witness’s life—this being the third such attempt—the FBI was able to apprehend and take that man into custody. They’ve gotten a full confession and the man had confirmed that the defendants did indeed hire him for the hit. In light of that, the Prosecution moves to add several more charges to the Defendant’s case. Including but not limited to: Witness Tampering, Attempted Murder of a Witness, the solicitation of murder, and conspiracy to commit murder.” She explained. “As well as entering all of this into evidence. The defense can—of course—have copies.” 

The judge nodded and then you kind of blacked out until she asked you your first question. 

To be honest you didn’t remember much of anything once it was over, but as he escorted you out of the court house and into an SUV, Rossi praised your composure and bravery. Telling you what an excellent job you did. 

You came out of your daze when you realized you had no idea where he was taking you. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, you were in Connecticut. You’d passed the FBI office on the way in and that wasn’t the way he was taking you. 

“Hotel. Aaron wanted to get you out of there as soon as possible. You must be tired…” He answered. 

You nodded. 

“Exhausted.” You muttered. “I don’t think I’ve slept a full night since… well, the day I left probably.” 

“That’s not healthy kiddo.” He sighed, “Though I can give you a pass in this situation. You’re safe now though. So rest up okay?” 

“I will.” You murmured. 

*************************************************************************************************************

Aaron was impatient. 

He’d gotten the text from Rossi three hours ago that said: 

Dave: Got her back to the hotel and settled in her room. She fell asleep before I even left. I had to slip her shoes off so she didn’t hurt herself with the heels in her sleep. Don’t worry. I’m just out in the hall if she needs anything. Drug a chair out there. I’ll stay as long as I need to.

There were just a few more things left for him to tie up here at the field office, Reid and JJ had things under control at the courthouse, and once he left, Morgan and Prentiss could finish their goodbyes to the local Organized Crime unit. 

All he wanted was to lay eyes on you… 

Then he’d let you sleep. 

In his arms, if you’d allow it but he needed to see you. It’d been so long… and knowing you were so close…

It was agony. 

He’d been just steps away from you earlier. Mere feet. 

Yet he’d never laid eyes on you. 

He’d heard your voice though. 

It was the most beautiful sound to grace his ears since the day you’d left. 

He was bouncing his knee impatiently under the table as he finished up the last of the paperwork… 

“Dude.” Morgan huffed a laugh, and Aaron glanced up in irritation at the distraction. “Just put your signature on everything and go. Prentiss and I can handle it. You're making a mess of it anyway. Look, you’re smearing the ink worse than usual.” 

He was… unfortunately.

He sighed. 

“Are you sure?” He tried not to let his voice sound so hopeful.

Morgan and Prentiss shared a knowing grin. 

“Yeah man, we’re sure.” Derek nodded. “Go, before you stomp a hole in the floor.” 

“Thank you.” Aaron whispered, grabbing a set of the SUV keys and putting his suit jacket back on. 

“Go get your girl!” Emily called after him, laughing as he hurried from the room.

He didn’t even have the mental capacity to care. All his energy was focused on getting to you. 

The drive was a blur, his mind on autopilot. 

What would he even say to you? He knew that you still felt the same… Your letter had been clear about that, but he didn’t know how to breach the gap that time and distance might have caused. 

Before he knew it, he was exiting the elevator on the seventh floor of the hotel and walking toward Rossi who was sitting in a rolling desk chair in front of a door. 

“She’s still asleep as far as I know…” Dave murmured as he walked up. “But I think she was pretty anxious to see you.” 

The man winked at him as he stood.

“Why am I nervous?” Aaron asked him. “She’s written to me every week without fail… well almost, but her letters were very clear about how she feels. I shouldn’t be this… frazzled.” 

Dave laughed softly. 

“You’ll figure it out.” He murmured. “But it could have something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen her in over a year… and she’s right there behind that door. I’d say you’re more excited than nervous. Right?” 

“I think my heart is trying to crawl up my throat.” Aaron muttered, earning himself another laugh and a clap on the shoulder. 

“Go see her. It’ll make you feel better… I’m certain.” Dave gave him a gentle nudge toward the door. 

“Thank you for staying with her.”

“Of course.” Dave waved him off. “I’ll be a few doors down if you need me.” 

Aaron just nodded and waited for him to disappear into his room. 

In 1, 2, 3, 4. 

Out 1, 2, 3, 4. 

He shook his head to clear it… and then he knocked. 

Four solid raps against the wood. Then he waited. 

Watching the peep hole for any sign of movement, he noticed that the room number was 777. 

Aaron Hotchner was not a superstitious or particularly religious man, but as a shadow blocked out the daylight shining through the peep hole… he believed in the divine.

If only for the day. 

He was also well aware that there was more than likely a gun leveled at his stomach through the door at this moment, but he would be proud of you if there was. 

The shadow moved and there was a brief pause before he heard the locks start to disengage. 

You’d definitely gone to put a gun away. 

Okay… now would be a good time to think of something to say, Aaron. Anything. Fuck… even hi would probably work, just open your mouth and say it.

Then the door swung open and a body came hurtling out into the hallway and launched into him so hard that he stumbled back into the other wall. 

And then you were kissing him. 

Your hands in his hair, your legs around his waist, and your lips melded against his. 

Okay… maybe words were overrated. 

This was definitely better. 

He carried you back through the door, just before it closed, then put your back against it. Your lips parted for his tongue and you tasted like home. 

He felt it was maybe a little necessary to say something to you before carrying you straight to the bed. (Which was where he really wanted to take you.)

He kissed you until you were the one who finally pulled back to gasp for breath. Your forehead resting against his. 

“Hi.” You whispered, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hi.” He chuckled softly. 

“I can’t believe you're real…” You breathed. 

“I’m very real baby, I promise.” He murmured, brushing his nose against yours. “It’s a good thing too, otherwise you would’ve launched yourself headfirst into that wall.” 

You shook your head slowly. 

“I don’t know if I believe that yet.” You said, “This could be a dream… I was sleeping. What if I wake up in a minute and you're not here?” 

He kissed you again, biting your lip softly. 

“Does that feel real?” He asked. 

“It always does.” You whimpered. “And I always wake up…” 

“How many times have you had this dream?” He wondered aloud. 

“I lost count.” You kissed him again. 

“You won’t wake up alone this time, sweetheart. It's real…” He whispered against your lips. 

“Prove it.” You demanded. 

He sat you on your feet softly, caressing your hips and gripping your waist firmly, pulling you as close as he could get you. 

You whimpered softly as his lips found your neck, and you began to push him backwards down the short entryway, unbuttoning his shirt as you went. 

Aaron let his hand find the zipper of your skirt, and it slipped to your ankles, making you stumble into his chest. He bumped into the TV stand, knocking over a lamp that rolled off it and fell to the floor, but he didn’t let you fall. 

Your breaths were rapid and shallow as he let you push his suit jacket down his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor and his shirt followed quickly after it. Then he lifted you off your feet, turned and sat you up on the TV stand, where the lamp had previously sat. At this height he could better explore you with his lips. Trailing them down to the base of your neck, and tracing your collar bones. Sucking and biting gently as he went. 

He wanted to devour you. 

To taste every inch of your skin until he was sated. 

Though he knew he’d never get enough of you. 

Aaron’s patience had run out before he’d even gotten here, so the buttons on your blouse were an inconvenience he did not have time for. He needed your skin bare beneath his lips, under his hands.

“Are you attached to this shirt?” He asked, tugging on the hem. 

“No, it’s not even mine. JJ found it for me when I got Reid’s blood on mine.” You said through gasps and moans as he nipped and licked at your pulse point, unable to keep his mouth off of you. “I think she got it out of the courthouse’s charity closet.” 

“Perfect.” He murmured, before he grasped both sides of the collar and ripped it open. 

Sending buttons flying everywhere.  

The sound that escaped your lips had him gripping your thighs so tightly he would have to check you for bruises later…

Then he was kissing his way down your chest, as you shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it over his head to the floor behind him. 

He sucked at the curve of your breast and you tipped your head back. 

“Aaron…” You moaned. 

God, he had missed that sound. 

His name on your lips was like a balm to his battered heart. 

Especially when you said it like that. 

He traced his hands up your waist and around your back to the clasp of your bra, deftly unhooking it and freeing your breasts. They were every bit as beautiful as he remembered. 

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it sharply as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue. 

“Fuck, Aaron.” Your tone was absolutely sinful. 

He smirked, barely pausing to murmur, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll get there.” 

“Can we get there any faster? I want you, like now.” You grumbled, but there was a hint of desperation in your tone. 

He chuckled softly. 

“Still not an ounce of patience.” He teased under his breath, swapping to the other nipple and earning a whimper. 

“Unless vibrators count, I’ve been celibate for fourteen months, I’m allowed to be impatient right now!” You whined, and then yelped in surprise as he scooped you up off the tv stand and transferred you quickly across the two feet to the bed. “Aaron!” 

“What?” He asked, feigning innocence. “You said you wanted to get there faster.” 

You laughed and the heat in your eyes was enough to make him ache for you. 

“I just wanna know why you still have pants on?” You purred, biting your bottom lip. 

“That is a very good question… Maybe you should help me out of them.” He murmured back, brushing a few wild locks of hair out of your face that had fallen loose from the headband that was still on your head. 

He slipped it off and tossed it to the night stand, then buried his hand into your hair guiding your lips back to his. 

He felt your hands at his belt buckle, heard it jingle as you undid it, followed by the slide of his zipper and then you were pushing his slacks down his thighs. They pooled around his ankles and he simply stepped out of them, and knelt on the bed with his knees between yours as he slowly—and gently—pushed you down onto the mattress. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist—thighs squeezing his hips tightly—as he slipped his hand between your bodies, and beneath the waistband of your panties. You whimpered against his lips as his fingers began to explore your pussy. Caressing smooth skin and gathering your wetness, dragging it up to your clit where he began to circle ever so lightly. You arched up into his hand, seeking more friction, and he gave it to you. Pressing more firmly on your clit, and making you moan. 

“Aaron, please…” You pleaded with him, pulling away from his lips to beg with those gorgeous eyes that always brought him to his knees. 

“Please what, Pretty Girl?” He murmured softly, still working your clit. “Tell me what you need.” 

He increased his speed and pressure, making you squirm and whine, “I need you inside me!” 

He smirked at you again, unable to resist teasing you. 

Was he absolutely throbbing for you? Painfully so. 

Was the way you reacted to his teasing and edging worth it? Absolutely. 

“What part of me sweetheart?” He asked, letting his voice flow out in a low hum. “There are so many options, I’m going to need you to be more specific…” 

He leaned down and began kissing your neck again. 

“Aaron…” You keened in frustration. 

“No, really sweetheart, tell me…” He purred, “Do you want my fingers?” 

He slipped the aforementioned fingers down from your clit to your entrance, teasing at it lightly, before sliding on inside. You were so wet that he met no resistance and earned a moan in reward, but you shook your head and gasped, “Please!” 

“How about my tongue?” He laved at your pulse with it, then sucked, and your pussy clenched around his finger. “Hmm? Would you like that?”

You whimpered, as he used the pad of his finger to massage your g-spot. 

“Come on, honey… All you have to do is say the word…” He teased, “Just one word, and I’ll give you what you want. Fingers, tongue or co-”

He let out a strangled groan instead of finishing his sentence.

Why? 

Because you had reached up and palmed his cock through his boxers, squeezing him firmly.

“Fuck…” He hissed. 

“You know what I want Aaron.” You panted, “Stop teasing and fuck me.”  

Any control that Aaron had regained, went flying out the window. 

*************************************************************************************************************

 He was here.

He was actually here, kissing your lips and touching your skin. 

You had dreamt of how this would go, how you’d feel when you saw him again. How he might take his time, exploring your body the way he had that morning in your apartment… and he had been trying to. 

But the second you’d seen his face through the peephole… 

You had wanted him desperately. 

So desperately that you didn’t have any need for the foreplay he was trying to provide. You were ready enough. 

You knew that he had been just as desperate—holding back for your sake alone—because the moment you had uttered the words “fuck me….”

He snapped. 

He hadn’t even taken the time to take his boxers off, or your panties. He’d simply pushed his down and slipped yours to the side. 

Then he was pushing inside of you. 

Entering you in one smooth thrust that had him so deep you were clutching at his back for dear life, nails raking across his skin. The stretch burned so deliciously, a strangled moan fell from your lips.

He stilled when he’d fully seated himself in your pussy, hovering over you—his hands on either side of your head—his breaths sharp and quick. His eyes were locked on yours, and they were full of pure desire. Your stomach tightened in excitement. 

“Baby…” He panted, “I… I don’t wanna hurt you, but if I move, I’m not gonna be able to hold back.” 

You palmed both sides of his face and pulled him down for a bruising kiss. The kind of kiss that felt like you were trying to join your souls together through lips, tongues and teeth.  

Then you pulled back—just enough to look into those hazel eyes that you’d dreamt of every night—making sure he could see just how serious you were when you said, “Don’t hold back, take me however you need me, I don’t care. I just need you.” 

He needed no further reassurance. 

Without ever pulling out of you, Aaron sat up and pulled your legs up over his shoulders,  wrapping his forearms around your thighs just below your knees. 

His first few thrusts were slow, testing, and measured, they had you moaning and arching your back to take him deeper. It was useless, however, because you were nearly immobile in that position. 

But he didn’t leave you wanting for long… 

Because just like he said, after those first few thrusts, he didn’t hold back. 

Aaron pounded into you, his cock hitting you so deep inside, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He praised, “So fucking good…” 

He took one hand caressing down the length of your thigh and reaching around your leg, then rested his palm on your lower stomach, finding your clit with his thumb and circling it. 

You were a mess, clutching at the bedspread and tangling your fingers in it. 

With his other hand, Aaron peeled your thigh highs off one after the other, throwing them to the floor and placed kisses to the inside of your calves. 

The pace he was setting was brutal… and you loved every second of it. 

Yet somehow, it wasn’t enough. 

You wanted him so badly it felt like a compulsion, a desperate, deep, aching need for him.

You wanted to be able to feel this long after it was over, you wanted to be sore and bruised… you wanted him written all over your body like a brand. 

“Aaron,” You breathed, “I- I need– Oh fuck.” 

You could barely get the sentence out as his cock hit your cervix and dragged against your g-spot with every thrust. 

“What do you need, baby?” He asked, “Tell me, I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

“Harder.” You gasped. “Fuck me harder. I wanna feel you tomorrow.” 

Aaron pulled out of you suddenly, with no warning and you whined at the absence—the emptiness. Lowering your legs from his shoulders he tapped your left hip, “Roll over for me pretty girl, hands and knees.” 

You sat up and got to your hands and knees without hesitation. You would have done anything he asked of you. Anything. Your trust in him was absolute. 

When you looked back over your shoulder at him, he groaned. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look… incredible.” He murmured, as he pulled your panties down to your knees, gripping your hips and tilting them to give himself better access as he lined his cock up with your pussy again. “Are you ready, baby?” 

“Yes, please!” He eased back inside you, then took two handfuls of your ass and used it to throw you up and down his shaft as he thrust into you with a bruising rhythm. You cried out, “Fuck!” 

You were breathless, the tension in your body was rapidly building to a crescendo as he railed you. You could feel every inch of him as your cunt squeezed him tightly. The pressure of his finger tips digging into the muscle of your ass cheeks, was both pleasure and pain. The mixture was pure bliss. 

And then he reached around to find your clit, his finger seeking it out with ease. 

You thought you might black out. There were too many sensations going on at once, all making that familiar ball of tension grow and grow. He let go of your ass cheek, and planted a hand in between your shoulder blades. Pushing you down to your elbows and making your breasts touch the bed, your nipples brushing against the sheets. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart, taking me so well.” He praised, “I can feel you getting close, pretty girl. Are you gonna come for me?”

“Oh God, Aaron, please!” You moaned. 

“Please what, baby?” He kept pace while he talked and the sound of his voice was driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Don’t stop talking to me, I’m so close.” You pleaded, you’d missed the sound of his voice so much. 

“You wanna hear my voice while you come on my cock, pretty girl?” He purred, leaning closer to you so he could murmur right into your ear. “Want me to talk you through it, hmm?”

“So bad..” You whined

“I can do that for you, baby. Just relax and let me make you fall apart.” His voice was low and rough, the rasp in it had your toes curling while he fucked you senseless. “Is my cock better for you than that fun little purchase you made while you were gone?” 

“Yes!” You whimpered. 

“It fills you up so much better, doesn’t it?” His finger was working your clit in such perfect little circles, the pressure just how you liked it. 

“Mm hmm.” It was the only coherent sound you could make. 

“I’ve been aching for this pussy, thought about it every single night while you were gone. In bed, in the shower…” He confessed, “Even in my office.” 

You moaned as an image of him jacking off to the thought of you—sitting at his desk with his head thrown back and his eyes closed—filled your mind. 

“My hand doesn’t hold a candle to you, sweetheart… you’re even better than I remembered.” 

You clenched around him and your back arched a little more, as you pressed back into him, taking him a little deeper. 

“Fuck…” He groaned, “Just like that, baby. You’re such a good girl, taking my cock like this.” 

You couldn’t contain your moans and whimpers anymore… It was all too much, and then he was squeezing your hip and ass again with his free hand–the one that had been on your back–and you hoped he left finger prints behind for you to obsess over later. 

“I’m getting close, pretty girl, I need you to come for me.” He ground out, fucking into you for all he was worth. “Come on baby, you can do it… Let go and let me take care of you. Come all over my cock baby, I wanna feel every second of it.” 

But there was something you wanted… something you’d missed the feeling of more than you would ever admit out loud. Although you could be persuaded to tell Aaron about it. 

Persuaded? Yeah right… You were about to beg for it.

“I- fuck, Aaron, I need you…” You got cut off by a strangle moan that flew from your mouth when his cock hit just right.  

“I’m right here baby, I’ve got you. Just let go…” He soothed. 

You shook your head. 

“I need you to come inside me!” You panted, pleaded… “I need it so bad, Aaron please!” 

Aaron groaned something under his breath that sounded like pure filth from what you could make out. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, sweetheart. You want me to come inside your perfect little pussy?” He asked. “You gonna come for me if I do?” 

“Yes! God, yes! Aaron, please!” 

“That’s a good girl…” He praised, then… “Shit, I’m- ahh!”

He kept thrusting through his own orgasm and the warmth of his cum spilling into you, flooding your pussy, and dripping down your thighs was the final little push you needed to go spiraling over that edge. 

“Aaron!” You cried, your elbows and wrist giving out—your knees not far behind—but he caught you, pulling you back against his chest. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He murmured in your ear as your vision went all fucked up, you were seeing white with colored spots. “I’ve got you.”

It was a good thing he had you, because you couldn’t feel your legs, so you just relaxed. Going limp against his chest, panting and resting your head on his shoulder. He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. 

You smiled, turning your head so he could kiss your lips instead. Your eyes fluttered closed, they couldn’t see anything yet anyway…

The kiss wasn’t urgent… It wasn’t panicked, or needy… 

It was slow, soft, and sweet. 

It was full of unsaid words and feelings. 

“I missed you so goddamn much.” You murmured against his lips. “You scared the hell out of me today…” 

“I’m sorry baby… I never want you to feel that way. But I’m okay, Morgan got there just in time, it's just a scratch.” He soothed. 

Your eyes flew open, suddenly your legs worked just fine and you were out his arms and standing in front of him on the bed—tripping over the panties that were still around your knees—he reached out and gripped your waist to keep you steady. You searched his nearly naked body with your eyes frantically. “What’s just a scratch? Rossi said you weren’t hurt! You said you were fine!” 

He stared up at you with wide blinking eyes. 

“Baby… I am fine… it’s just a… a burn…” He said, very carefully.  

“A burn?” You muttered in confusion, studying his face and then a dark pinkish red mark on his temple caught your attention. “What the fuck! Aaron, is that a powder burn!?” 

You grabbed his chin and forced his head to the side so you could look at the injury. 

“Oh my God.” You whimpered, dropping to your knees… You had known that he’d been in danger… but that it had been that close… you felt sick. Tears pooled in your eyes. 

He took your wrist in his hand and then the other, looking back at you. 

“Hey… sweetheart, don’t… I’m okay… I got checked out. I went to the ER, and I promise I’m okay.” He soothed, but it did nothing to stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks. He took your face in his hands and wiped them away with his thumbs. “Baby please don’t cry, it’s all over now.” 

“Hold me?” You whispered. “And tell me how that happened?” 

He nodded, kissing your forehead.

“Whatever you need, baby…” He murmured. “But let's get you cleaned up first, hmm?” 

You frowned at him… squinting skeptically. 

“I promise I will tell you everything.” He swore. “I just wanna take care of you physically first, sweetheart, then we both have some stories to tell, don’t you think?” 

“Okay…” You agreed. 

*************************************************************************************************************

Aaron didn’t need more permission than that as he scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bathroom. A nervous peel of giggles falling from your lips. 

He was relieved to hear you laugh… He didn’t know how he’d made it fourteen months without that sound. It was vital to him somehow… and he hoped he never lost it again. 

He sat you down on the bathroom counter and kissed you once on the tip of your nose before he turned around to flip on the shower. 

“We don’t have any clean clothes…” You murmured, filling the silence. 

It seemed that hadn’t changed in the year you’d been apart, you still couldn’t stand the quiet. He wondered how you’d handled that, being alone for so long.

“My room is the adjoining one to this one.” He answered you. “You can wear some of mine and I’ll call Emily and see if she and Derek can’t go pick up your go bag from wherever you were staying.” 

“I hid it in some bushes outside the courthouse… Just in case things went south and I needed to run again.” You said and he stopped fiddling with the water temperature to look at you. 

“I know that you know better than this, but you didn’t leave any weapons in that bag right?” He asked. 

You laughed, and his heart skipped a beat.  

“No, they were on me.” You gestured to your body, which reminded him that you were still naked and he got a little distracted looking at you. “They’re all out in the room, hidden under pillows and stuff.” 

“Pillows?” He raised a brow, “Meaning… the pillows in the bed I just fucked you in… that sounds so safe.” 

You laughed again and he couldn’t help but smile. He adored that sound. 

“We didn’t even get close to the pillows… it was fine.” You smirked. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He teased, shaking his head. 

Your smirk grew into a wide, mischievous grin and he knew whatever you said next would be wild.

“You could try to fuck some sense into me… but uh, I’m pretty sure your cock turns my brain to mush so… good luck in that endeavor! Oh, but by all means, give it your best shot.” You joked, and it was his turn to laugh. 

“I think I prefer fucking you senseless, I love that little dazed look you get on your face when your all blissed out.” He shot back, smirking when your cheeks turned pink. 

He turned back to the water for a second, sticking his wrist in the stream to test the heat. It was slightly too warm for his preference, but the shower you’d taken when he’d stayed the night with you had been so hot that steam had been rolling out from under the bathroom door. He turned and grasped you by the waist, lifting you off the counter and setting you on your feet on the floor. 

“Will that be comfortable for you?” He murmured, nodding toward the water. 

You smiled softly and stuck your hand under the faucet, then nodded. “It’s perfect.”

He leaned against the counter and waited for you to get in, but you hesitated. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, not wanting to be in a separate room, but if that made you more comfortable he wouldn’t object.

You shook your head no and your cheeks flushed bright red. He raised an eyebrow at you, but waited patiently for you to get your thoughts together. It wasn’t often that you hesitated to speak your mind, so he was curious. 

“I-” You started and stopped again, then took a deep breath, held it and let it out slowly. 

He smiled. 

“Take your time.” He murmured softly. 

“Will you get in with me?” You asked shyly.

His smile grew till it was nearly ear to ear he was sure. 

“Of course.” He whispered. “Whatever you need, honey.” 

“I just…” You pressed your lips together and furrowed your brow, “It’s silly.” 

“It's not.” He shook his head and reached out, pulling you to him gently by the back of your neck, threading his hand into your hair and kissing your forehead. Then wrapped his other arm around your waist. Holding you close. “It’s obviously important to you, so it’s important to me.” 

You gave him the strangest look then, your eyes holding so much emotion and yet he couldn’t quite place any of them. 

“I don’t wanna be alone… I’ve been alone for the majority of a year.” You murmured, and his heart broke for you, “But with you specifically I- I just want to be able to reach out and touch you… just to be able to reassure myself that you’re still there.” 

“That’s not silly at all, sweetheart.” He murmured, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet either.” 

“Really?” You whispered. 

He nodded and leaned down to kiss you. A chaste, sweet kiss. Nothing more. 

“It was hell, not knowing where you were, if you were safe, or—at some points—if you were even still alive.” He explained. “So yeah, Honey, I’ll get in the shower with you–for completely pure reasons I swear–I’ll stay with you as long as you want.” 

“Thank you.” You murmured, popping up onto your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. “We’re wasting water…”

He had a feeling the two of you would waste a lot more water before this ‘shower’ was over… He didn’t think he’d make it very long–watching you lather up–without touching you. Luckily, he did not think you would mind.

You stepped into the shower and he shed his boxers–which never actually made it off his body until this moment–and followed after, letting you have the water first. 

Watching you tip your head back and let the water run over you was a whole new lesson in patience for him. 

He was completely enthralled as he watched a stream of water run all the way from your neck, between your breasts, across the plain of your stomach and down between your legs…

“See something you like?” 

He startled at the smug teasing tone in your voice. 

He’d been caught. 

Clearing his throat, he brought his eyes back to yours… 

They were nearly sparkling. 

“As a matter of fact, I’m liking everything I see.” He admitted. “You’re… perfect, Sweetheart. I can’t get enough of you.” 

You bit back a smile and he knew that if the conversation continued down this path, there wouldn’t be much ‘showering’ happening at all.

He cleared his throat again. 

“What did you manage to get up to while you were gone?” He asked. 

The smile fell from your lips and you shifted anxiously on your feet. 

“Your turn.” You murmured, shifting out of the water and offering it to him so you could lather up.

“Wait a minute… What was that?” He asked, not letting that go so easily. Even as he stepped into the water and cringed at the heat. 

“I uh… I didn’t really do anything fun, I just… worked.” You said. 

Oh. 

That’s what this was about. You thought he would disapprove of how you provided for yourself. 

“What did you do for work?” He asked, even though he was fairly certain he knew. 

You got even more awkward. 

He nodded his head knowingly. 

“Honey, you did what you had to do…” He murmured. “We… We tried to find you once… after Alabama, because we didn’t know if you were alive… so we profiled you. I profiled you.” 

“And?” You murmured. 

“I came to the conclusion that you were smart enough to know that your best source of income would be something that was untraceable… Like stripping off the books at a club, for example.” He said matter-of-factly. 

You nodded. 

“And what did the team think of that?” You asked, face blank, ready for a harsh blow.

“They agreed that you were smart enough to have done that and they just hoped you were safe while doing it.” He said honestly. 

You nodded. 

“I felt like it was my only option…” You whispered, a bit of fear in your eyes. 

“Sweetheart.” He murmured, reaching for you. “I wouldn’t care if you had stripped on live television if it meant that you were safe and had a roof over your head and food to eat… You found a way to take care of yourself, and that’s what matters. What you did was smart, I could never be upset with you for doing something that helped you stay safe until you could come home.”

Relief seemed to wash over you like the water had been before, and you let him fold you into his arms. 

“I was scared you’d be like… mad? Or… I don’t know… jealous?” You murmured. 

He chuckled softly. 

“Oh, I’m jealous.” He confessed, kissing the top of your head when you tensed up again. “Of everyone that got to watch you… you are… ethereal . I don’t know how you got so good at that so quickly, but watching you is like looking at art.” 

You let out a surprised giggle. 

“Maybe sometime I’ll show you all the new tricks I learned in Wyoming.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he laughed. 

“I think you definitely should.” He said with mock seriousness. 

He was getting a little worked up again just thinking about it. 

“Mmm, I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday or Christmas, whichever comes first.” You murmured. 

“My birthday is in November.” He said, very helpfully, and you giggled. 

“Okay, I can take a hint.” You purred, and your tone… You were gonna have to knock that off or you were gonna find yourself against the shower wall… and that was not the intended purpose of this shower.  

You untangled yourself from his arms and turned toward the wall mounted bath amenities, pumping some shampoo into your hand, and working it into a pitiful lather in your hair. 

“Ugh.” You groaned. “It’s gonna take my hair a week to recover from this.” 

“From what?” He asked, in amusement.

“Cheap shampoo.” You muttered, then you reached over to catch a stream of water that wasn’t hitting him directly, rinsing your hands. 

Next you pumped some body wash into your hands and groaned at it too. 

“What? Is the soap not up to par either?” He teased. 

As far as Aaron was concerned, soap was soap. 

“I’m used to the good stuff, okay. Strippers don’t skimp on skincare, and this stuff will make your skin dryer than the Sahara.” You informed him seriously, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore… 

He was just a man, after all, and there you were… naked, and lathering up your whole body with bubbly soap… 

He was just a man… and he was not immune to the allure of bubbles on bare skin. Especially when you were taking so much time on your breasts and… 

Wait. 

He shook his head and blinked a few times, bringing his eyes back up to your face. 

Caught again… 

You were watching him with a very amused—very heated—grin on your face.

He felt his face get very warm. 

“Sorry… I can’t help it… you’re just…” He stammered to explain himself. “So fucking perfect.”  

Your cheeks turned pink again, and he was amazed at how his ogling of your body didn’t phase you, but a simple compliment had you lighting up like a christmas tree. 

“I like it…” You murmured shyly. “The way you look at me… it’s not… I don't know… It’s different. The way you look at me is different from how other men do… there’s more to it. It’s not just blind lust… there’s passion or… something else? I don’t know! I just know that the way you look at me doesn’t make me feel dirty, or like an object. When you look at me, I feel beautiful, I feel like I’m treasured… that sounds ridiculous but it’s how you make me feel.”  

Aaron was pretty sure his cheeks were going to be sore from how hard he was smiling. 

He was in love with you. 

It was as simple as that. He had been for months. 

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous… not to me.” He murmured. 

You both just stared at each other for a moment, the silence was loaded and he was literally two seconds away from confessing, from pouring his heart out to you, when he noticed you were rubbing at a line on your arm. 

It was pink and puckered. A scar. A very large scar, that had not been there when you had left. He knew it hadn’t because he’d memorized every inch of you. 

“What did that to you?” He asked, all his focus now narrowed down to that one patch of marred skin. “Better question. Who did that to you?” 

You froze and looked up at him, wide eyed. 

“A bullet…” You whispered. “I don’t know, but he’s dead.” 

Aaron took a very deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Aaron?” You asked quietly. 

“I need a minute baby, I’m not mad at you… I just… I need a minute.” He murmured. 

“Can I rinse off, while you take a minute?” You asked cautiously. 

He opened his eyes. 

“Of course, Sweetheart.” He tried to smile at you, he did, but he was angry… not at you but at the whole situation. 

He stepped to the side and let you slide past him and under the water. 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry about it when there was nothing you could do.” You murmured, as you tipped your head back to rinse your hair. 

He realized that you still thought he was mad at you. 

“Baby, look at me.” He insisted, you pushed the excess water out of your hair so it wouldn’t run into your face and then you opened your eyes and looked at him timidly. “I am not mad at you. I understand why you didn’t tell me. I didn’t tell you about the powder burn earlier for the exact same reason. I’m just… upset that you were hurt, and I wasn’t there to help you.” 

“Oh.” You whispered. 

You were quiet for several moments and he started to soap up while you rinsed off. 

“You saved my life that day… You and the whole team… even if you weren’t there. I used everything you taught me, and it kept me alive…” You said quietly. “But especially you… what you said to me at the shooting range… It saved my life. If I hadn’t had that talk with you I would have panicked, and then I wouldn’t have shot to kill. I would have died. I heard your voice in my head when they came for me, and I used the breathing technique you taught me. It kept me from freaking out, I didn’t stop breathing like that until I was safely on a bus on my way to Wyoming, and as soon as I did I lost my shit… I still cry when I really let myself think about it. I almost died… but also… I killed three people…”  

“No.” Aaron interrupted. “You defended yourself, you had no choice. It was them or you.” 

You nodded your head. 

“I know,” You murmured. “But they aren’t any less dead. I’m not dwelling on it… I’m just… learning to live with it.” 

“Would you like for me to help you?” He asked. 

He’d killed people on the job before… more times than he cared to think about… 

You gave him a soft smile. 

“I think that might help.” You nodded. 

“I hope it does.” He replied. 

“Do you still need a minute?” You asked him. 

He shook his head. 

“No baby, I think I’m good now.” He assured you. “Ready to switch again?” 

You nodded and you both went through the whole song and dance of switching positions in the–not quite big enough for two grown adults–shower. 

Aaron was so focused on getting thoroughly rinsed off, he didn’t notice that you were eyeing him… at first.

 He happened to glance over and catch you though. 

You were studying him, in a manner that was not entirely wholesome. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth and your eyes were so full of desire, tracing the shape of his body from the bottom up. At the moment he caught you however, you were staring right at his cock 

Of course, he would play into it, he had to get a bit of pay back for the little show you put on with the soap earlier. 

It was already partially erect… How could it not be? What, with you standing there naked, looking like that. He hadn’t stood a chance. 

But watching you look at it like you wanted it desperately… 

That had it standing at attention. 

So he took it in hand and stroked it, firmly and slowly. 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head, and he bit back a laugh, instead choosing to clear his throat softly. 

Your eyes shot up to his, your face turning bright red and you were biting that lip in earnest now.  

“See something you want, pretty girl?” Aaron was surprised at the tone of his own voice, the clear arousal in it was impossible to miss, but he wanted you to know that your attention was getting to him. 

“Sorry.” You whispered, it was barely even a breath. 

“Don’t apologize.” He smirked at you, “I like the way you look at me too, and I really wanna know what’s going on in that filthy mind of yours right now.” 

“I want you.” You murmured, without hesitation and Aaron felt his cock twitch in his hand. 

“You can have me anytime you want me, Sweetheart. You just have to ask.” He murmured, “Fucking you is my favorite passtime.”  

You shook your head and he cocked his to the side in question. 

“I don’t want you to… fuck me… I-” Your tongue flicked out to wet your lips… and he knew. 

A smile formed on his face. 

“You what, baby?” He asked, letting a slight teasing tone slip into his voice. 

You didn’t answer… not verbally. 

You just sank to your knees. 

“Fuck…” He whispered, as you gazed up at him from the floor, water droplets running all over you and clinging to your hair and eyelashes.  “You wanna suck my cock, sweetheart?” 

“Can I?” You asked, a touch of desperation in your voice… and Aaron was done for… wrapped around your little finger… “Please?” 

Oh fuck…

He would let you get away with murder… and that was a problem in his line of work, in yours too. He didn’t care though, he was too in love with you to worry about it. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, pretty girl. I couldn’t deny you if I wanted to.” He whispered.  

“Then come here.” You murmured. 

It was like your voice had physical power over him. 

He took two steps closer to you, so that the water was only hitting his lower back and not running down his front. So it wouldn’t drown you.  

He stared down in awe as you reached out and gripped him firmly, a small moan working its way up his throat. You stroked him slowly, three times, making eye contact with him the whole time. 

And then you licked him, from base to tip on the underside, your tongue had him mesmerized, so pink and warm… He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine, despite the hot water.

He was not going to last… 

But he didn’t think you really wanted him to. 

When you wrapped your perfect lips around him, he thought he might lose it right then. “Fuck, sweetheart, this isn’t gonna last long.” 

He warned you, and you pulled back, just enough to look up at him and smile. “Thats okay, I have a score to settle, and right now it’s like seven to four… I’m losing. I can't let that stand.” 

He smirked down at you. 

“Honey, that score is never gonna be even, for every one you give me, I intended to give you at least two.” Aaron promised, shaking his head at your antics. 

You pouted. 

“Well… I guess I’ll just have fun trying anyway.” You purred and took him all the way to the back of your throat without warning. 

Aaron had to brace himself with a hand on the wall behind you as he moaned.