#[[ this is probably him every single time he comes out of the mpd
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winterscaptain · 4 years ago
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tell.
Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader
a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!
words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events
summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!
It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders. 
Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.
You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast. 
Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas. 
You squint at him. “Am I early?”
He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.” 
“Of course. I wanted -” 
Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!” 
You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile. 
“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king. 
Or, rather, two kings. 
“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?” 
His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.” 
Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.
Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.” 
“Really? That sounds like so much fun.” 
What you mean is, What, with your bad back? 
“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say - 
Yep. I feel like shit. 
“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?” 
You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs. 
So much for grown-up plans...
+++
You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in. 
“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket. 
He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.” 
That’s not a good tone. 
Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth. 
“Did they raise the terror alert?”
Shit. 
“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -” 
With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods. 
You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom. 
“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.” 
You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour. 
Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line. 
+++
Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess. 
You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.” 
Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.” 
The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes. 
“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.” 
+++
When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek. 
“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own. 
“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.” 
“Understandable.” 
His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”
JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit. 
+++
“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up. 
Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?” 
“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.” 
That doesn’t make much sense. 
You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?” 
“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes. 
Of course they did. 
“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth. 
“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you. 
“So why are we here now?” Dave asks. 
“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.” 
Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them? 
“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.” 
Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?” 
“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds. 
+++
As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible. 
Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.” 
JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”
“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.” 
That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway.  “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”
Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.” 
They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side. 
You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered. 
JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.” 
“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.” 
You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.  
“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.” 
You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer. 
When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment. 
Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.” 
“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.” 
Of course he did. 
“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond. 
You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too. 
“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.” 
Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”
“What about a tactical assault?”
The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.” 
Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?” 
“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.” 
You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.” 
Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.” 
Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.” 
Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?” 
She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.” 
And so it begins. 
+++
“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?” 
You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.” 
Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything. 
“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone. 
Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!
“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?” 
The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.” 
Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.” 
You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself. 
A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder. 
“I can't do that. I need the leverage.” 
“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.” 
You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth. 
A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line. 
“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up. 
Shit. 
+++
“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 
“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.” 
The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension. 
“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?” 
You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.” 
“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath. 
When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise. 
But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!
You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss. 
+++
With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related. 
While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon. 
“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.” 
Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face. 
“Is she…” 
You get closer, looking up at the monitor. 
“...putting on lipstick?” 
You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.” 
You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek. 
“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic. 
The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second. 
Well, that couldn’t have been any worse. 
You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing. 
+++
Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.” 
At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.” 
The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.” 
Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.
“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.” 
Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.” 
“Right.” 
Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful. 
Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?” 
The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.” 
Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.” 
Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole. 
Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you. 
I’m okay. 
He nods as Erin speaks again. 
“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best. 
Dave responds quickly. “Yes.” 
Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.” 
You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance. 
“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”
+++
“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.” 
“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.” 
He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone. 
“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.
He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...” 
You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?” 
It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor. 
“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?” 
“Anything.” 
“Stay here.” 
+++
You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone. 
Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot. 
Will.
+++
You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers. 
The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence. 
JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”
You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed. 
His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”
+++
You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt. 
Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.
He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive. 
Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away. 
His ear…
“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once. 
He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”
“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again. 
He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you. 
“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”
With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”
You roll your eyes. 
“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you. 
With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still. 
The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you. 
+++
Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders. 
“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?” 
“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.” 
He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.” 
+++
You pull your phone from your pocket. 
She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”
“Hey, Jess.” 
“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”
With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.” 
“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?” 
“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?” 
She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.” 
“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle. 
“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?” 
“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”
“ - Of course.” 
+++
You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much. 
Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.” 
“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.” 
Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.” 
Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad? 
It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind. 
Evil twin, eviler twin. 
You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances. 
Yeah, that one was pretty bad. 
“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.” 
Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.” 
Derek’s brow pinches. “What?” 
“All of the details are a part of their story.” 
She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you. 
Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script. 
Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.” 
“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous. 
Now who sounds like Spencer?
“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”
“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. 
“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”
“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”
Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.” 
“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.” 
Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy. 
She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”
“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.” 
Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little. 
In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion. 
“Where were the most casualties?” 
“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.” 
Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”
Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”
“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave. 
Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.” 
+++
Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life. 
You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.  
+++
The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.” 
“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through. 
“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”
There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.” 
He’d like to think he’s made of steel. 
Sometimes he is. 
“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?” 
“They're 3 minutes away.” 
“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.
He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.” 
Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?” 
“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist. 
“Promise?” 
His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.” 
You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go. 
+++
You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air. 
Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock. 
Could take an eye out, with that thing.
You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron. 
Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him. 
You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet. 
Today is not that day. 
Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?” 
He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”
+++
Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing. 
With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you. 
+++
You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember. 
What were we planning to do today?
A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.
Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck. 
They were house-hunting this morning. 
Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.” 
They were at a convention this morning. 
Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.
She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?” 
You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.” 
“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little. 
Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home. 
“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree. 
There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs. 
“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips. 
You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around. 
Don’t push it.  
“I just thought you'd like to know that.” 
The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.” 
She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list. 
That’s a problem for another time. 
You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things. 
The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages. 
The second - you’ll never have to think about her again. 
The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you. 
She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him. 
“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.” 
Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.” 
“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.” 
Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display. 
“Hear that? We’re in.” 
+++
When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket. 
You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute. 
Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.” 
You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.
“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.” 
“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?” 
With a huff - “No.” 
He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.” 
You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep. 
His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat. 
Sleep takes him rapidly after that. 
+++
As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”
“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet. 
“Mhmm.”
“Only if it’s you.”
There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”
You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”
Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction. 
Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.
You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything. 
+++
Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening. 
As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other. 
You can just… be. 
+++
Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks. 
When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!” 
Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.
Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh? 
Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile. 
When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?” 
“God only knows.” 
Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds. 
“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.” 
With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way. 
You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous. 
He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…
He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over. 
You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?” 
She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.” 
There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear. 
She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!” 
She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief. 
Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once. 
+++
As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard. 
You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation. 
Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.
Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.” 
He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?” 
“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles. 
It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you. 
You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.  
“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”
He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”
+++
“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone. 
Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive. 
“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.” 
He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation. 
“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”
+++
“What do you think they’ve got so far?” 
He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.” 
“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?” 
He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.” 
That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?” 
He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.” 
“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 
Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.” 
“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Shit.” 
You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family. 
“Hey.” 
You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?” 
“What’s my tell?” 
The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.” 
He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?” 
“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.” 
“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor. 
“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.” 
You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.” 
“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -” 
“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.” 
You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?” 
“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.” 
It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.” 
“Isn’t it?” 
You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?” 
He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face. 
You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.” 
He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself. 
“I said, you wish.” 
You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.” 
+++
tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw  @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin
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dr-rufus-weller · 6 years ago
Text
gen:LOCK Child AU
Overall:
The Union is in a way a type of child protective service. Not a good one.
They won't stop attempting to seize the children in Weller's care.
Weller and Marin's relationship grows to the point where they both watch each other's kids and rely on each other.
Due to Julian and Yasamin being older they also have their own pets.
Valentina, Kazu, Sinclair, and Cammie all came around the same time period.
Dr. (Dad) Weller: 
49 Years Old
Still is a doctor
Helps kids through therapy; physical and mental.
Still a tech wiz, just more of a hobby rather than a career.
Wonders why his microwave is in pieces.
Julian Chase:
12 Years Old
Weller's first child.
Paralyzed due to an accident.
Developed DID/MPD due to the Union taking him from Weller's custody for a period of time.
Has a pet bird named Chaser.
Weller puts trust in him to help with the kids and help out around the house, same with Yasamin.
Yasamin Midrani:
11 Years Old
Weller's second child, came shortly after he realized Julian needed someone.
Has a pet bird named Huma.
Very strong attachment to Weller, and only Weller.
Strong trust issues. Took Weller a long time to form a relationship with her.
Bounced back and forth between facilities.
Was released into Weller's custody from an institution.
Valentina Romanyszyn:
10 Years Old (Acts like she's 12)
Major trust issues.
Very socially inept, she avoids any social situations when possible.
Found on the streets.
Kazu Iida: 
9 Years Old
Anger issues
Parents got fed up and sent him to Weller.
(They don't want him back and don't plan to take him back, Weller is unaware though.)
Pick's on Cammie often, but if anyone else every did it he would put them in the ground.
Learns quickly that cooking is therapeutic for him, Weller decides to teach him how and that’s how they bond.
Robert Sinclair:
11 Years Old
Union put him in Weller's custody to attempt to dig up problems.
The union is using him as a pawn.
Manipulator
Cammie MacCloud:
3 Years Old (youngest)
Major separation anxiety.
Parents are dead.
Has very firm attachment to Weller after she gets to know him.
Adores physical contact, often is in someone's arms.
Learns very quickly (possible photographic memory)
Raquel (Mom) Marin:
46 Years Old
Caretaker for fostered/adopted children.
Strict but loving.
A single look from her can straighten out any child.
Miranda Worth:
11 Years Old
Best friends with Julian, even before he became disabled.
Got scarred from a violent kid.
Small but feisty.
Often gets in arguments with Jodie.
Would probably tear a kids arm off to protect her friends/family.
Leon August:
13 Years Old
Helps Marin around the house often.
'Big brother', always watches out and takes care of Jodie, Migas, and Miranda.
Often defuses arguments between Miranda and Jodie.
Jodie Brennan:
7 Years Old
Little shit of a kid.
Often gets into arguments with Miranda.
Always gets into problems or breaks things that Miranda and Leon have to cover up before Marin finds out.
Miguel "Migas" Garza
9 Years Old
Little shit too, but different than Jodie, in a way that when Marin comes home things will be dismantled.
He'll just completely take apart the toaster or microwave and won't know how to put it back together.
Marin will bring the items to Weller in a bag for him to fix, and also bring her kids along with her.
Little does she know that Migas is teaching Cammie how to do the same exact thing.
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machinistmind · 8 years ago
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Hey, I drew characters I haven’t drawn in a while.
So, tonight, we have a little picture of Trigger Claw and characters I never thought I would draw again : Mac Jack (left) and Detective Love (right). Basically, I was practicing with the Pony Randomizer Challenge and here are some characters that came up. I really like them, personally.
Anyway... story time!
Two months passed since I joined the Manehattan Police Departement... Left Ravensclaw to come here... for new adventures, y’see! When you start to beat down the criminals, crimerate tends to decrease, y’know! That’s how it works with the griffons, at least...
But here, in F-ING Manehattan, F-ING ponies don’t take kindly that you arrest the ponies who rob your place, threaten you with guns and run away with all your belongings, by taking them down a slightly more brutal way than they follow in their F-ING book - top-seller in the streets! - “MPD’s Arrestation Methods”. Talking of the book, mine is covered with claw and beak marks, I usually do that about the objects I’m frustrated with.
Usually, Chief backs me up on what I do, because, yes, the results are here - it’s working! - we are filling our jails and the streets are safer. But, nooooot always...
“Hey, Trigger, Chief is calling you in his office regarding... well, you know already... yesterday’s incident” I’ve heard over my phone in my office. Here it is again, I’m going to be put away, doing paperwork for a few days... I already hear him say his usual speech... “You’re doing great on the field but you need to calm down! We are not running that way, here, in the MPD! I’m going to give you a warning and a few days off the field, the usual.” Hey! I’ve improved over the last month, I got put away only two times, compared to the 5 times the first month. However, lately, the Chief started to get pissed off at the fact that the close-minded journalists are starting to complain in their little newspapers, hiding behind their “liberty of expression”.. MPD’s First Griffon clawing through crimes! Unusual method of arrest in our streets! How can the MPD let something like that happen?
Y’know what’s worse? Every single time that I walk toward the Chief’s Office, I see all the ponies giving glance toward my directions. Despite my attitude, they actually like me... they support me when I’m stuck in my “cage” (I prefer the term “nest”!), checking on me... but they don’t protest over the Chief’s decisions, never, not a single time.
Anyway, the faster he tells me that I can lock myself in my room, the better. Entering his office, I notice that, this time, he’s not alone, a unicorn mare is with him. Pretty sure I saw her already but I just can’t put my claw on it - I’m not very good at remembering stuffs like that. “Miss Mayor, as you requested, this is Trigger Claw, the latest recruit to the MPD and the origin of all the commotions in the newspapers.” Oh, no, the Mayor, that can’t be good. Trying to make a good impression, I put my claw in front of her, trying to salute her, giving my best smile - not with the teeth, the first time, they tend to get scared of it.
Ignoring me, looking at the Chief... “Not surprised, I knew that the Police had some odd elements but I have to say that is probably the first time you decided to go with a bird, Mark.” First off, I’m a griffon. Secondly, she just ignored me... I’m just in front of her! And he’s calling Chief by his first name! “Anyway, let’s cut the chase and go down on business.” She pulls out a paper from her saddlebag, putting it on the desk in front of me. “Trigger Claw, this is a letter of resignation. I’m going to ask you to sign it.” “W-wait, w-wha-wh-why! You can’t just d-do that!” I protest back. Just like that? I tried to look at Chief, trying to make him react, pointing at her. He’s avoiding as I start to look at him, for some help. Oh no, I’m alone, here. “It’s not coming from the MPD, it’s coming from me. I’m tired to see the citizens complaining to me about the griffon going wild in the streets, with a MPD Badge. I’m tired to see the ‘Manehattan Reporter’ publishing an article about the latest, maybe heroic, but violent, action...” I felt a blood surge rushing through my veins! ”I’m protecting the city under your jurisdiction! Every time that I arrest somepony, despite the violence, I do it for the good of the ponies of Manehattan! A-A-And you’re telling me that you don’t CARE?” HOW DARE SHE! I was about to tear her apart, if it wasn’t for the fact I didn’t want to lose the little of dignity left that I have. ”This is not a request, griffon! I, the Mayor of Manehattan, ask you to take this pen and sign it, so you can go back faster to Ravensclaw, the place you shouldn’t have left in the first place!”
All I wanted to do, is protect the innocents, whatever race they are... And this is over? I tried to give a look again to Chief, the only pony which could have said something to protect me... He remained silent, powerless, still avoiding to look at me, resigned to obey the will of this dumb b*tch unicorn.
I felt tears coming to my eyes... ... but I kept them. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction to see me broken. Grabbing a pen on the desk, I’m about to end officially my “magical adventures” in Manehattan, just after two months of work.
I hear, knocking on the door, and see the two ponies looking at the door behind me, watching the unattended guest. Turning back, I see Mac Jack, a light-grey earth pony with red mane, investigator inside the MPD - considering I’m a peacekeeper, he’s supposedly a superior. He stands out from the other ponies because of his lawful demeanor and professionalism. “I do not agree with your action, Miss Mayor.” He says, while standing next to me. Taking a look of haughty disdain “What do you mean, Mac Jack?” Apparently, she knew who he was. “You see, unlike some ponies, Trigger Claw is fighting for a cause, not just for his personal interest. He wants the peace in town. He wants that our children can safely walk in our streets without danger.” he answer. “Yes and I can rely on other agents to do the jobs, I don’t need a troublemaker in our teams.” she reply. Mac Jack smirks. “When is the last time you have walked in our street, without your bodyguards? Admit it, even yourself don’t trust your policy regarding security and the safety of our town.” The Mayor was about to reply but just opened her mouth... then closing it afterward, pouting. By Celestia, this unicorn shut her mouth! “In addition to that, I do know that you have grandchildren living in our town. I have my son, too. And I bet he would never - EVER - complain about Trigger Claw, who does his job, maybe his own way, but does it right.”
Knocking on the door, again, a blue mare earth pony enters the room. I knew immediately who she was, it’s Detective Love - at least, that’s how the others call her, I don’t actually know her name. Investigator, as well, she usually tags along Mac Jack. Her kindness is one of her biggest traits... ...thinking about it, she was always the first to check on me whenever I was “grounded” in my office. “Excuse me to interrupt but I’d like to add some few words.” she says, approaching my side, winking gently at me. The Mayor sighing... “What is it, Miss Love?” (Her name is actually Love? How cliché for a pony, I was thinking.) “I was eavesdropping the conversation and.. hhhhmmm... I’d like to back up Mac Jack. I went in the street lately and I’ve talked with the townsfolk. Shops are opening later than they usually do, customers walk down the streets safely and the citizens are noticing a decrease of crime. All of that during the past two months. I’m pretty sure that, our favorite bird, Trigger Claw (”HEY!” I thought to myself, looking at her), has something to do with it. That’s a mistake to fire him like that.”
Looking at the two ponies who backed me up, I put down the pen I was about to use and stands still, looking at the Mayor, more upset than ever. I didn’t know that simple words like that could be that effective - usually, I just jump into the brawl and it worked just the same. Chief was now looking at us, his three subordinates, smiling. After a moment of silence, Chief took the lead. “...what about we make a deal... I put Trigger Claw under Mac Jack and Detective Love’s direction... he isn’t fit for being a peacemaker, it seems to be clear.” I don’t know how to take this comment, do I do a bad job? Am I a bad peacekeeper? The peace was kept, that’s for sure, I thought to myself. “...I was thinking about putting him in a different work anyway, before you decided to jump in my office, Miss Mayor.”
The Mayor, offended that her will wasn’t respected, growls a “Fine!” and exits the room, under the looks of the other members of the MPD. “Now, Trigger, I want you to follow their orders. They work on things bigger than you usually handle and they got a better experience than you. So, listen up, follow and make the MPD proud, okay?” Mac Jack was poking my side with his shoulder while Detective Love gaveme the warmest smile I’ve ever seen. I actually had several ponies backing me up. Smiling back at her, I give them a big hug. They weren’t expecting that from a griffon, that’s for sure!
It’s time to continue my job.
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