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kiwriteswords · 3 months ago

Note

could you write a hotch x reader story where reader is literally a knockout bombshell and the team meets her for the first time and both are humbled and shocked tht Hotch could pull that. Also maybe she works in different department of the FBI, but not BAU and derek and others have always talked about how hot reader is but happy id they cnt have reaader that hotch can!

The Beauty and The Boss

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: Thanks so much for the request! Sorry, it took me so long to get it written :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags/Warnings: Mild language, fade-to-black smut scene, reader wears makeup, workplace flirting, commentary about reader's appearance by BAU, jealous!Hotch, mention of a Holiday party, mentions of a bar scene.

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism hides a secret: he’s been in a relationship with you, the stunning agent who turns every head at Quantico. While his team spends months admiring and teasing about you—unaware of the truth—Hotch quietly enjoys keeping the relationship private. But when the BAU holiday party reveals the truth, the team is left shocked, realizing the woman they’ve been swooning over is already spoken for by the man they least expected.

The Quantico breakroom buzzed with life as Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, a grin stretching across his face. “I’m telling you, there’s not a person in this building who doesn’t turn their head when she walks by.”

Emily Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms as she perched on the edge of the counter. “Understatement of the year, Morgan. She’s practically stopped traffic in the hallways more than once.”

Penelope Garcia, seated with her tablet, chimed in. “More like a goddess descended from Mount Olympus, wielding a to-do list and a killer power suit. The woman is unreal.”

You had no idea you were the current topic of conversation as you breezed through Quantico’s corridors. Your heels clicked against the tiled floor with the kind of authority only a seasoned professional carried. Your fitted blazer hugged your form just right, the kind of attire that screamed competence but still left a trail of stunned admirers in your wake. You were a boss, and you knew it—not in an arrogant way, but in the way a woman who worked twice as hard to get half as far in a male-dominated field knew her worth.

Little did they know that, as much as they admired you from afar, you had a certain someone who saw all those layers they missed—someone who knew how you carried the weight of your team, your projects, and your life with equal parts grace and grit.

That someone was Aaron Hotchner.

Unbeknownst to the BAU, the stoic Unit Chief had been keeping a significant secret. You and Aaron had been together for over a year. Though you both worked under the same massive roof, your respective departments didn’t often overlap—an intentional boundary to keep things professional and out of sight from prying eyes.

Aaron entered the room just as Morgan’s laughter rang out. “No, but seriously, Hotch, you’ve seen her, right? You can’t tell me someone that fine doesn’t have half the men here wrapped around her finger.”

Aaron’s sharp gaze flicked to Morgan, his jaw tightening subtly. “Morgan, shouldn’t you be focusing on case files rather than office gossip?”

Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, man, beauty like that deserves to be appreciated.”

Emily grinned. “Don’t let Strauss hear you. She’d have you running sensitivity training for a month.”

Garcia waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe Hotch is just annoyed because she’s his type. Dark hair, smart, confident—maybe there’s some unspoken pining we don’t know about.”

Aaron’s lips pressed into a firm line as he reached for a file, “Let’s keep the speculation to yourselves. We have enough on our plates without playing matchmaker.” His tone was calm but carried enough weight to signal the end of the conversation.

He didn’t let his composure falter, but inwardly, he found himself caught in a tug-of-war between amusement and annoyance. You were undeniably stunning, and he couldn’t blame his team for noticing, but their casual banter skirted dangerously close to the truth.

Later that afternoon, the sun streamed through the tall windows of the BAU bullpen, casting golden streaks across the room as you entered. Your heels echoed confidently against the polished floor, their rhythmic click commanding attention as you moved with purpose. A fitted pencil skirt emphasized the natural sway of your hips, and your blazer was tailored perfectly, hinting at the strength and grace beneath. Loose curls framed your face, falling just so, and your makeup—subtle but flawless—added to the aura of a woman who meant business.

Conversations quieted as you passed by the desks. Agents glanced up from their work, some stealing longer looks than they should have, while others leaned toward their neighbors to murmur something under their breath. You didn’t acknowledge the attention. You were used to it. Your focus remained locked ahead as you carried the neatly bound folder in your hands, its weight a mere fraction of the responsibility you carried daily.

You reached the door to Aaron Hotchner’s office just as it opened. He stepped out, his posture as straight and commanding as ever, but his sharp eyes softened for the briefest moment when they landed on you. The shift was imperceptible to anyone else, but you caught it—it was the kind of look he reserved only for you.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted evenly, his voice steady but low enough that it felt personal.

“Agent Hotchner,” you replied with a nod, the professionalism in your tone betrayed by the faint twitch of a smile at the corner of your lips.

Behind you, Morgan's voice rose in a stage whisper. “And there she is…”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your expression neutral as you extended the folder to Aaron. “I just need your signature on these budgetary adjustments. It’s time-sensitive.”

Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly as he accepted the folder, his long fingers brushing against yours briefly. “Of course,” he said, already flipping it open to skim through the pages. “Give me a moment.”

As he turned and walked back into his office, you followed without hesitation, pushing the door closed behind you. The muted sound of the latch clicking shut seemed to signal a shift in the atmosphere. The second the door was closed, your composed expression melted into something softer, teasing.

“I heard Morgan,” you said in a low voice, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes. You set a hand on your hip, leaning slightly as you watched him work.

Aaron’s lips curved into a subtle smirk as he scribbled his signature onto the documents. “They talk about you often,” he replied, not looking up right away. “Morgan more than most.”

You tilted your head, your brow arching playfully. “Jealous?”

Finally, he looked up, setting the pen down and stepping closer. “Observant,” he corrected, his tone dry but his gaze warm. He handed the folder back to you, and as his fingers brushed yours again, the slightest spark of electricity passed between you. “You look stunning today, by the way.”

“Today?” you teased, your voice dropping slightly as you tilted your chin. “What about yesterday?”

Aaron’s smirk deepened, the rare expression enough to make your stomach flip. “Every day,” he replied smoothly, his voice dipping into that low, velvety tone that sent a thrill through you. He stepped just close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne—subtle and clean, just like him.

For a moment, the space between you felt charged, but you straightened, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. “Careful, Agent Hotchner,” you said, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Someone might notice.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rare but rich. “Let them speculate.”

The corner of your mouth twitched in amusement, but you turned on your heel, your exit as purposeful as your arrival. Behind you, Aaron watched, his expression softening again as the door clicked shut. The office suddenly felt emptier without you in it, and the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

Moments after, when you stepped out of Aaron’s office, the door closing softly behind you, you nearly collided with David Rossi. The veteran profiler stepped back gracefully, offering you a warm smile as his eyes flicked to the folder in your hands.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted smoothly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “You’re lucky Hotch doesn’t have a ‘No Stunning Women’ policy in his office. Makes the rest of us forget what we’re working on.”

You gave a polite laugh, your smile measured but warm. “Always a pleasure, Agent Rossi. Don’t let me distract you too much.” With a nod, you stepped past him and continued down the hall, your heels clicking confidently on the polished floor.

Rossi watched you leave, shaking his head slightly before stepping into Hotch’s office, and shutting the door behind him. “You didn’t tell me your office doubled as a runway, Aaron,” Rossi quipped as he took a seat across from Hotch’s desk, still grinning.

Hotch didn’t look up from the report in front of him. “Rossi.”

“I’m just saying,” Rossi continued, leaning back in his chair. “Agent Y/L/N is quite the… presence. Can’t imagine you get much work done when she’s around.”

Hotch finally glanced up, his sharp eyes locking on Rossi with a calm but pointed look. “She’s one of the most competent agents in this building.”

Rossi raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin still on his face. “No offense, Aaron. I’m just appreciating fine talent when I see it. Professionally, of course.”

Hotch’s expression didn’t shift as he returned to his paperwork. “Make sure it stays professional, Dave.”

Rossi chuckled, standing up and adjusting his suit jacket. “Noted. I’ll leave you to your work, but for the record… you’ve got good taste.”

Hotch’s eyes flicked up for a brief moment, narrowing slightly as Rossi turned to leave. Once the door closed behind him, Aaron exhaled, his jaw relaxing as the corners of his mouth twitched faintly. You had that effect on people. Rossi wasn’t wrong about that, but Aaron wasn’t about to let anyone reduce you to just that. Not on his watch.

It wasn’t much later in the week when the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses filled the dimly lit bar as the BAU team finally unwound after wrapping a grueling case. At their usual table near the back, JJ, Penelope, and Emily leaned close together, conspiring with mischievous smiles. Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, his beer in hand, as he glanced across the room toward you.

You were with your own team, sitting at the far end of the bar. The laughter coming from your group was infectious, and more than a few heads in the bar had turned to admire the sharp, confident woman at the center of it all. You were a vision, dressed in a fitted, dark emerald blouse that complemented your glowing skin, your hair falling perfectly into place despite the long week.

Emily nudged Derek, her grin widening. “Now’s your chance, Morgan. She’s right there, and she’s smiling. That’s basically an invitation.”

Penelope nodded eagerly, swirling her cocktail. “Seriously, Derek. You’re Mr. Smooth—to make one of your famous sweet moves. She’s gorgeous, brilliant, and, let’s face it, probably way out of your league, but you’ve got charm. Use it!”

JJ smirked, sipping her drink. “They’re not wrong. She’s definitely the type to keep you on your toes.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment. “You ladies make a good point. Pretty boy over here has been staring so hard, I think he forgot how to blink.”

Reid’s head snapped up, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I haven’t been staring—I was observing!”

Penelope laughed, reaching out to pat his arm. “Sure, sweetie. Keep telling yourself that.”

Meanwhile, Aaron Hotchner sat quietly at the edge of the table, nursing his drink and doing his best to keep his expression neutral. He caught Rossi’s amused glance and ignored it, his attention drifting toward you. Across the room, your eyes flicked to his, and in that instant, the noise of the bar seemed to fade. Your lips curved into a soft, knowing smile, and Hotch’s lips twitched in response, his gaze steady but warm.

“Alright,” Derek announced, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Time to show you all how it’s done.”

As he sauntered toward you, the rest of the team watched with poorly concealed anticipation. Hotch leaned back slightly, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he took another sip of his drink, clearly amused.

At the bar, Derek slid into the seat beside you, his trademark charm on full display. “Well, well, Agent Y/L/N,” he began, flashing you a dazzling smile. “A woman like you at a place like this—it’s like a shooting star landing in a parking lot. Rare. Unexpected. Stunning.”

You turned toward him, your smile warm but professional. “Agent Morgan,” you greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering if I can buy you a drink. You look like someone who deserves only the finest.”

You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “That’s kind of you, but I’m good for now. Thank you, though.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, undeterred. “You sure? A woman like you turning down a Morgan Original? That doesn’t happen often.”

You smiled, leaning in slightly, your voice light but firm. “I’m flattered, Derek, really. But no, thank you.”

Derek blinked, clearly surprised but respectful, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame a guy for trying. You have a good night, Agent Y/L/N.”

As he returned to the table, Rossi leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “I think I know why she turned you down.”

Derek arched a brow. “Oh, yeah? Enlighten us, wise old man.”

Rossi swirled his drink lazily. “She’s already seeing someone.”

That caught the team’s attention. JJ frowned thoughtfully. “She doesn’t wear a ring.”

Emily shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. Rossi’s probably right—someone like her? Definitely taken.”

Penelope gasped. “She’s got to be dating some rich CEO type. Like a Christian Grey situation—minus the creepy stuff. You know, private jets, expensive suits, maybe even his own island.”

Reid tilted his head. “Statistically, high-powered women often prefer partners who are equally accomplished, so it’s not unreasonable to assume…”

Hotch, listening quietly, couldn’t help but chuckle softly under his breath. It was rare for him to indulge in such amusement, but their wild guesses about your personal life were too far from the truth to resist.

“Something funny, Hotch?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

Hotch met his gaze evenly, his lips twitching. “Just enjoying the show, Morgan.”

From across the room, you glanced at him again, your eyes meeting his with a spark of shared amusement. You knew, just as he did that the truth was far more satisfying than any of their guesses.

That night, the familiar warmth of your shared apartment enveloped you as you stepped out of the bathroom, your hair still damp from the shower. The soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the room in hues of gold, casting a gentle light over Aaron as he stood at the dresser, folding his tie with precision. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, and his expression was calm, though you could tell from the faint tension in his jaw that something was on his mind.

There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved—calm, methodical, and yet there was an intimacy in the gesture that always left your heart fluttering.

You crossed the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old FBI academy T-shirts that hung just above your thighs. It was soft and familiar, smelling faintly of him, and you loved how it made you feel wrapped in his presence.

As you climbed into bed, you leaned back against the headboard, watching him with a small smile. “You’re quiet tonight,” you teased, running a hand through your damp hair. “That’s usually my thing.”

Aaron glanced at you, his lips quirking slightly before he shook his head and continued folding. “I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

He sighed, placing the tie in the drawer before turning to face you, his arms crossing over his chest. “My team.”

You raised a brow, leaning forward slightly. “Oh? What did the BAU do this time?”

Aaron smirked faintly, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his watch. “It’s not what they’ve done. It’s what they keep saying.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity piqued. “Do tell.”

He exhaled, his voice even but carrying a hint of frustration. “They don’t stop talking about you. Derek, Emily, Penelope… even Reid, apparently. It’s constant.” He turned to look at you, his dark eyes warm but serious. “I’ve been patient. I’ve let it slide because they don’t know. But I think I’ve hit my limit.”

A slow smile spread across your face as you scooted closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’re jealous,” you teased, your voice light and laced with amusement. “Aaron Hotchner, stoic leader of the BAU, is jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he replied firmly, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I just don’t appreciate them… ogling you.”

You chuckled softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin against his shoulder. “You know I think it’s kind of hot when you’re jealous, right?”

He turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression softening. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” you said with a grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s sweet that you care so much. But you don’t have to worry, Aaron. I’m yours. Completely.”

He turned fully now, his hands coming up to rest on your knees as he looked at you with a rare softness in his eyes. “You have no idea how much I appreciate hearing that.”

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Good. Because it’s true.”

He kissed you back gently, one hand sliding up to cradle your cheek. When you pulled away, you saw the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Aaron lingered close for a moment, his thumb brushing your cheek in a rare display of vulnerability before he exhaled softly and pulled back. Standing, he moved toward the dresser with the same calm, deliberate manner that always captivated you.

His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, working them loose one by one. The sound of each button sliding free seemed amplified in the quiet of your shared space. You couldn’t help but admire the way the soft light played over his features—his strong jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and the faint lines around his eyes that only made him more striking.

Aaron shrugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and the scar along his side that you knew he sometimes still tried to hide. He folded the shirt with the same precision as his tie, setting it neatly aside before slipping out of his slacks and into the lounge pants he favored at night.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you teased, your voice warm and playful as your eyes lingered on him.

He glanced back at you with a small, knowing smile. “Enjoying the show?”

You grinned. “Always.”

Aaron shook his head slightly, his smirk growing as he crossed the room and slid into bed beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the familiar warmth of his body radiated toward you as he leaned back against the pillows, one arm sliding around your waist to pull you close.

“You really don’t have to worry about what your team says,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest. “I only have eyes for you.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, gently tilting your face toward his. “You’re sure about that?” he asked softly, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed the question’s seriousness.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one who gets this version of me. The rest of them don’t even come close.”

Aaron deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that still sent your heart racing. His hand slid down to your hip, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair, and for a moment, the world outside your shared room ceased to exist.

The soft rustle of sheets and the low hum of your shared laughter filled the space as your words became unspoken reassurances, translated into the way he touched you, the way he held you, the way he kissed you as though you were his lifeline.

In the darkness, as the lamp flicked off and the night stretched on, you made it perfectly clear—he was yours, and you were his, completely. Always.

The annual Bureau holiday party arrived soon after and was in full swing, the large event hall buzzing with laughter and conversation as agents and staff mingled under the soft glow of festive string lights. Tables lined with food and drinks flanked the room, and a DJ played a mix of holiday classics and upbeat pop songs. The BAU team had claimed a table near the center, already deep into their drinks and holiday banter.

Derek leaned back in his chair, scanning the room with an easy grin. “Alright, I’m calling it now. This year’s party MVP? Gotta be me. I’ve got the charm, the moves, and the mistletoe strategy ready to go.”

Emily rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. “Your confidence is astounding. Let’s see how it plays out when someone turns you down again.”

Penelope chuckled, adjusting the festive reindeer antlers perched on her head. “Maybe don’t aim for anyone who’s already out of your league, like a certain Agent Y/L/N.”

“They’re never letting that one down,” Reid laughed.

Derek smirked. “She’s not here yet, but hey, holiday parties are all about surprises. Maybe she’ll get a look and change her mind?”

JJ raised a brow. “Speaking of surprises… does anyone else feel like Hotch is acting weird lately? He’s been way too quiet during our usual teasing.” Will was at her side, with an arm wrapped over her shoulders.

Rossi, swirling his glass of whiskey, gave a knowing smirk but said nothing.

The conversation halted abruptly as the door to the hall opened, and heads turned to see Aaron Hotchner entering with you at his side.

The two of you stepped into the room, hand in hand, your fingers loosely intertwined as Aaron scanned the crowd with his usual composed demeanor. You looked radiant in a fitted emerald dress, its sleek design effortlessly elegant, while Aaron’s sharp black suit was understated yet commanding.

The BAU table fell silent, their jaws collectively dropping.

“Is that…?” Penelope started, blinking rapidly.

“Hotch,” JJ finished, her voice barely above a whisper. Will let out a breathy laugh.

“And Agent Y/L/N,” Emily added, looking between the two of you as if she’d seen a ghost.

Morgan leaned forward, his grin faltering. “No way.”

Hotch’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as he caught their stunned expressions. He led you toward the table with a calm confidence, his hand still firmly in yours.

“Evening, everyone,” he greeted, his tone as steady as ever.

You smiled warmly, giving a little wave with your free hand. “Hi, guys. Hope we’re not late.”

The team exchanged glances, still struggling to process what they were seeing.

Derek was the first to recover, though his grin was more sheepish than his usual swagger. “Well, damn. Hotch, you really know how to keep a secret.”

Hotch arched a brow, his hand resting protectively on your back as he pulled out a chair for you. “It’s never been a secret. Some things are worth keeping private.”

Emily leaned closer to Penelope, muttering, “Okay, I officially feel bad for every single comment I’ve ever made about her in front of him.”

Penelope nodded vigorously. “Same. Oh my gosh, same.”

JJ shook her head, laughing softly. “And Derek, all the flirting?”

Morgan held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t know! But I’ll admit when I’m beat. Respect, Hotch. You’re a lucky man.”

Hotch’s expression softened slightly as he glanced at you. “I know.”

Rossi, still sipping his drink, chuckled. “For the record, I knew when to quit. The first time I made a comment about her, the look Hotch gave me said everything I needed to know.”

You raised a brow, your lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh? And what look was that?”

Rossi smirked. “The one that says, ‘Say one more word, and you’re not making it to retirement.’”

“Back into retirement,” Hotch corrected with an amused look. The table erupted into laughter.

Emily leaned forward, her curiosity winning out. “Alright, spill. How long has this been going on?”

You exchanged a glance with Aaron, his hand still resting lightly on your back.

“A little over a year,” you admitted, and Hotch nodded.

“A year?” Penelope gasped. “And you managed to keep it quiet this long? I’m impressed.”

Hotch’s gaze swept over his team, his voice calm but with a subtle warmth. “We wanted to keep things professional. But we both agreed it was time.” A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes as he added, “Especially before one of you asked her out on a date next.”

The team erupted into laughter, though Derek groaned, throwing his head back. “Aw, come on, Hotch! You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

Emily smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You really did shoot your shot, Morgan. Respect for the boldness, but hindsight? Not your best moment.”

Penelope covered her mouth with her hand, barely containing her giggles. “I’m never going to stop picturing Hotch sitting back in his office, watching that go down and just... waiting.”

JJ joined in, shaking her head with a grin. “Honestly, Derek, if looks could kill…”

Derek held up his hands in surrender, chuckling despite himself. “Alright, alright! I didn’t know, okay? And for the record, I was nothing but a gentleman.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you smiled at him. “You were, Derek. I thought it was sweet.”

“Sweet?” Hotch interjected, his tone laced with playful sarcasm as he glanced at you. “I’d call it… bold.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow, your smile widening. “Aaron.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk as he looked back at the table. “But in all seriousness, I can’t blame anyone for noticing how incredible she is. I just happen to be the lucky one.”

The table quieted for a moment, the sincerity in his tone catching everyone off guard. Emily was the first to break the silence, raising her glass with a grin. “Well, here’s to the two of you. A BAU power couple if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Cheers to that,” Penelope chimed in, her eyes sparkling.

As the team raised their glasses once more, you glanced at Aaron, your fingers brushing his under the table. His quiet smile and the gentle squeeze of your hand told you everything you needed to know. You were his, and he was yours, and no amount of teasing or surprise from his team could change that.

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reiderwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC.

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future.

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field.

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe).

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.”

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all.

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat.

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab.

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?”

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly.

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder.

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes.

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things.

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused.

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen.

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general.

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies.

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face.

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day.

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way.

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips. When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping his bag a little tighter to him.

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.”

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?”

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away.

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk.

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.”

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent.

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable.

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional.

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence.

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading.

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time.

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.” He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him.

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply.

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away.

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could.

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond.

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?”

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space.

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen.

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you.

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office.

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt.

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat.

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention.

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same.

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer.

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.”

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line?

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you.

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move.

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before.

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face.

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again.

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist, and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now.

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat.

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed.

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?”

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind.

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day.

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?” You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him.

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands. Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands.

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night.

-X-

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reidsbookclub · 1 year ago

Text

HERE WE FUCKING GOOOO

I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off | Part two

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader | Masterlist

Summary: D.C. law states that you can't file for divorce until you've been separated from your partner for 6 months without having sex with them... they never said you can't fuck your soon-to-be ex-husbands new girlfriend's ex-husband. (based on this post)

Warnings: divorce (i'm not an expert but i did my best research) flirting, teasing, blow jobs, almost getting caught, mentions of miscarriages, abusive relationships, past child abuse, tough childhoods, jealousy, falling in love at the worst time, mutual pining but thinking it's unrequited on the others part, bathtub sex, possessive sex, semi-public sex(bar bathroom), drunk love confessions, pretending not to hear the love confession. arguments, fighting, real love confessions

Word Count: 15.1k

He’s not there when she wakes up Sunday Morning. He left a note on her bedside table, however.

‘Stole your spare key from the key box downstairs. Have to head into work for a case and didn’t want to wake you, and even more so I didn’t want to leave a beautiful woman like you home alone with the door unlocked. Call me if you need me, but I’ll be in Kansas until further notice. Aaron.’

It makes her smile. He’s so sweet… and then she notices his ring. He took it off before he left, he placed it beside the note and when she flipped it over she read why.

‘I don’t know where to put this, I don’t want to wear it and I don’t have anywhere to keep it safe. Can you watch it? Put it wherever you’re going to be keeping your own until we can figure out what to do with them?’

The best place for them would be in the jewelry box that ended it all. She picks up his ring and opens the third drawer which is mostly empty. She places his ring in there and slips her own off of her finger. Turning the ring over a few times, she sighs. This is the end of a chapter… maybe even the end of a whole book.

She spends Sunday alone without that awful feeling hanging around her. She goes to the store, buys some moving boxes and bubble wrap, and puts James’ things in them. She cleans out the spare bedroom, does some laundry, orders food, and listens to her music as loud as she wants.

It’s wonderful.

She has a response from her lawyer that she got only a few minutes after she sent the video last night. “It’s the perfect evidence,” Cynthia praises. She’s going to draw up the divorce papers and get everything ready for her to file in 6 months. Because that’s the law. You have to wait 6 months after the last time you have sex with your partner to officially file for divorce. And James fucked her just two weeks ago. It was after a long dry spell, both of them had wine with dinner and he was home the whole weekend with her… mainly because that was a weekend Haley went down to visit her parents with Jack.

Her marriage was officially ending. However, the world doesn’t feel like it’s on fire as much as it did last week. She doesn’t even feel like she’s standing in rubble left in the fire's wake… she’s just surrounded by construction equipment in the vacant lot that is her future.

She could build whatever she wants here. The future is in her hands, what she chooses to do with it is up to her this time. Not her parents, not her husband. Her.

So she’s going to start living for herself, for real this time.

—

It’s when Haley calls her that she starts to feel that anxiety creep back into her stomach.

She’s halfway to work the next day when her cell goes off. She doesn’t check the call log until she gets to work, sitting in the parking lot, her stomach drops into her ass when she sees her name. But she calls her back.

“Hello?” Haley answers.

“Hey, sorry, I was driving,” she apologizes. “Is everything okay? Is Jack okay?”

“Yeah… yeah everything’s fine. I just thought we could talk?”

“There isn’t really much to say, is there?” She asks, her voice calm and low still even though she wants to scream a bit.

“There’s a lot to talk about. I just don’t know how to. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how it happened and I didn’t know how to stop it and then I didn’t really want to…”

She’s quiet for a moment. While she could snap, she could accuse her of ruining two perfectly fine marriages but that would be a lie. They were going to end eventually anyway. “It’s okay.”

“No, hon, it’s not.”

Hon.

She hated that. Haley had a way of comforting her in a condescending tone that stung a little deeper than any hurt she was ever complaining to her about. Like she either didn’t believe that it was a big enough deal to complain about it or she was so wrapped up in her own world that she couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve her.

“I was going to file for divorce anyway,” she lies. “I wasn’t happy. You knew that. And you weren’t happy either, I knew that. It’s fine. I don’t care. You can have him.”

“No, don’t do that, don’t—”

“Haley you literally fucked my husband because yours works too much and my husband fucked you because I won’t submit and be a good housewife. If anything, switching husbands was just the right thing for us to do,” she finally snaps. “Now if you’re done pretending to be my friend, I have work to get to. Don’t call me again.”

She hangs up before she can hear anything else and shoves her phone back into her purse. Shaking her head, she takes the keys from the ignition and gets out. She honks twice, ensuring it’s locked and makes her way towards the courthouse with a sigh.

How were they ever friends?

She shakes away all the worry and the anger and her smile comes back onto her face as she enters the courtroom. She has to go through the metal detector, her purse goes in a plastic basket and she waits in line. She goes through the detector, and it beeps because of her necklace and belt. The security guard knows her well so he approaches her with the detector wand and a smile.

“How are you today?” He asks.

“Good, Mason. How are you?” She smiles back.

“Pretty good,” he says, waving her down. “You’re all good here, have fun in there.”

She laughs as she grabs her purse, “oh, you know I won’t.” He laughs too. “Are you working till the end of shift?”

“Nah, I’m only on half the day today, Kyle will be on later to let you out,” he explains.

“Well, have a good rest of your day then, Mason!” She gives him a little wave, walking backwards for a moment before she heads to the elevators.

She’s still smiling ear to ear as she reaches them and Andrea comes around the corner. “What’s got you so happy on a Monday?”

“Hm?” She can’t help but smile, lips pressed together, trying so hard not to laugh. “Oh, nothing.”

“You’re giddy…” she looks her up and down as the elevator dings and opens. They let everyone out and then get in together. Andrea hits floor 2 and turns to her. “Didn’t everything with James go down this weekend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I kicked him out.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re literally glowing,” she can’t help but laugh out of pure shock. “Holy shit… you didn’t go home with someone else did you?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head, smirking, she can’t hold it in. “He came right to my house.”

Her jaw drops, “oh my god? I mean, good for you. You didn’t seem like the type to pay for sex but—

She laughs, reaches out and touches her friend's shoulder, “No, no, Jesus… but, I mean, if he ever did leave the FBI to work the corner, I’d be his best customer.”

“You didn’t?!” She can’t believe it.

She’s so happy she could literally scream, but the elevator steadies and opens with another ding and they have to get out. She wraps her arm under her friends, linked at the elbow now, and she leans in closer as they walk, “Oh, but I did.”

“And?” She wants all the details. “I need to know more, you can’t just say you slept with the sexiest man any of us has ever worked with and not share the details?”

She’s smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, she shakes her head and shrugs, not even knowing where to start. “Uh…” She brings her voice down, “Well… Seven. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Seven!” Andrea shouts, getting weird looks from the people in the hallway and she swats her slightly. “Sorry, but holy shit?”

“I know!” She whisper shouts, dragging her into Andrea’s office. “Seriously, he came over to see if I was okay Saturday night, after everything went down, and we had some wine and talked and let all he feelings out. And then I was scared to sleep in my bed again because it felt so tainted and he offered to help me change the sheets and I, a little drunk, said that sleeping in there would be easier if we fucked in that bed too. You know, even the score? And him being a profiler he knew exactly how terrible James was in bed and made up for it…”

“Wow,” Andrea can’t believe it. “You lucky duck, over her playing wife swap with the sexiest FBI agent at Quantico.”

Everyone in the office had a crush on Aaron Hotchner when he was a prosecutor, the women and the men. He was powerful, he knew what he was doing, he was captivating and brilliant and so very easy on the eyes. Everyone hit on him, either as a fun and flirty way of dealing with the day or because they genuinely thought they could get him even while he was married. Haley hated that, she would come in to give him lunch and kiss him in front of everyone to assert her dominance and make sure they knew he was taken. It might be why Haley only became friends with her. She wasn’t threatened by her. She didn’t think it was possible for Y/N to take Aaron away from her.

But Aaron isn’t at all like his soon-to-be ex-wife. He isn’t a cheater. He isn’t a gossip. He isn’t vindictive or cruel or jealous. He is kindhearted, he is respectful, he is a lover and a protector and a genuinely good person.

And now that he’s single, she has the chance to show him what it’s like to have a good woman care for him.

—

Hotch is whistling while sorting through papers, alone in the conference room of this random police station in Kansas. Happier than he’s been in a while, he’s just breezing through this case with new ideas and a chipper attitude that has the team a little freaked.

“Okay, man,” Derek enters the room, closing the door behind himself. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, pretending he doesn’t know.

“The smiling, the whistling, the chipper mood… You and Haley finally work things out?” He asks, cautiously. Everyone knew that things weren’t good at home, he hadn’t been okay since his suspension. Either sleeping at the office or in his guest room at home, he was on the brink of divorce and they all knew it.

His good mood fades and he lets out a sigh, looking down at his paperwork, he doesn’t know how to say it. “I’m sure Penelope told you.”

“That you got a weird email claiming your wife was cheating on you, yeah,” he shrugs. “But it wasn’t really her, was it?”

“She’s been sleeping with her best friend's husband for a year now,” he shares, watching Derek's face drop.

“Oh, man,” he takes a seat beside him. “Are you okay?”

He nods, “Yeah… we’re getting divorced for real. It’s not just a separation anymore. And I sort of… made things even between us.”

Derek's brow goes up, “seriously?”

He nods, smile returning, “I slept with her boyfriend's wife.”

Derek can’t help but laugh, amazed that Hotch had it in him. “well hallelujah, finally you’ve got something good going on in your life.”

“And I need to finish this case so I can go to my lawyers and draw up some papers and see what comes of this good thing,” he explains, letting Derek in. “She’s not just revenge… this isn’t just getting back at the people who hurt us. There was something special there, something I haven’t felt since I was a teenager. A spark.”

“In this profession, it’s really hard to think that things happen for a reason. Why do people die such terrible deaths? Why do people do such evil things? It’s sometimes easier to think that there’s a plan for everyone, made by god or fate or whoever brings you peace at night when you close your eyes. After what you guys went through together… if she makes you happy, there’s definitely a reason why she’s in your life,” Derek assures him.

“I really hope you’re right.”

—

She has an appointment with her Lawyer, after work on Wednesday. She arrives at the office to see a familiar face in the waiting room. She lets the receptionist know who she’s there for and takes a seat right beside Aaron, who’s been smiling at her since she walked in.

“Hello, there,” he keeps his voice low. “How are you doing?”

She crosses her legs towards him and leans on the armrest closest to him. “I’m good, how are you?”

“Better,” he looks at her lips and then back to her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, I was going to ask Amelia— my lawyer if she could request your evidence from Cynthia.”

“I didn’t know you actually had a lawyer here, I asked Andrea— you remember Andrea right?” She asks and he nods. “I asked her and some of the others if they knew where you were going for your divorce and they had no idea you were even separated, but Andrea’s brother is married to Cynthia so that’s why I’m with her.”

“Everyone here is really good,” Aaron assures her. “We’re probably going to serve Haley on Friday.”

“Good,” she lets out a huff air, slightly laughing and shaking her head. “They’re going to be so pissed when they find out we’ve been working together on this.”

“Yeah, but I mean, they started it. They ruined everything,” Aaron shrugs, genuinely not caring how they’re going to react. “They’ve already done the worst thing they could do to us.”

Amelia comes out to grab Aaron first and he stands, “Can we possibly do our meetings together?”

“If you’re both okay with knowing the details of each other's divorce, I don’t see why now?” She shrugs.

“I don’t mind,” Aaron shares, turning to her.

“I’m good with it,” she smiles, standing with Aaron now.

“Okay, you two can go into the big meeting room down the hall and I’ll go grab Cynthia,” she says, opening the door for them.

Aaron leads her down the hallway, opens the meeting room door for her and lets her pick her chair before he sits beside her. “Have you guys written everything up already?” She asks Aaron.

He nods, “mostly.”

“And you said you have a prenup?”

“Technically it’s a postnup,” he shares. “When I came back from Scotland Yard, after the separation and the few people she claims to have slept with, I knew that I wanted a postnuptial agreement. I was making more money, she wanted to start trying for a baby, I was having a hard time trusting her already and so we made an agreement and signed it here with Amelia… and I really thought that by signing it she was agreeing she’d never break it.”

“So what does the cheating void in her contract now?” She asks, curiously.

“We went into the agreement with things that we wanted in the case of a divorce, if no infidelity occurred she would get half my assets and alimony. We agreed to a 50/50 split of any future children and regardless of the fidelity, she would always keep the house if we had children. I wanted them to be taken care of regardless of what happened,” he shares. “So that’s what’s in the complaint and if she signed it we will go through with an uncontested divorce. The only difference is that we will share Jack in an 80/20 split, I get weekends and 2 weeks in the summer. Every birthday and Christmas we get half a day each and we go back and forth on Halloween. She can have easter and Thanksgiving, seeing as she has the family who’d want to see him and I don’t.”

“Mine's not going to be that easy,” she looks down at the table and sighs. “we had sex 3 weeks ago, we need to have been separated for 6 months before we can file.”

“Ah,” he understands what that’s like. “myself and Haley have lived in the same house, just we haven’t had sex for over a year… and with me always travelling and being in hotels all the time I have a timeline of events and she’ll attest that we haven’t had sex since last September. So I can file this week.”

“And have you found a place to stay now that you’re not living with her?”

He nods, “I’m at a hotel right now, I’ve put in a few applications for apartments around the city and I’m just waiting to hear.”

“I cleaned out my guest room if you wanted to come to stay with me until then?” She asks, really hoping he doesn’t let her down too hard.

“Really, you wouldn’t mind?”

She shakes her head, trying not to get too excited, “No, it would be nice. And even when you get your apartment, you can still come over with Jack and he can use my backyard to play?”

“That would be amazing,” he places his hand on her shoulder and smiles, just as their lawyers walk in.

—

The meeting goes well, they go over the little details and she signs over access to the evidence that she collected and she listens as they plan how Haley will get served on Friday.

Afterwards, Aaron walks with her to her car and leans against it, “did you really clean out the spare room already?”

She nods, “I did it on Sunday after you left… you don’t have to use it, but it’s there if you want to save some money?”

“and James isn’t going to get mad that I’m in his house? If I remember correctly, his parents bought the place for you guys?” he asks.

She nods, “Technically they own it, but I moved in right after I graduated so I’ve been there for long enough and paid enough for the upkeep that it’s mine too.”

“Graduated as in college?”

“High school,” she clarifies. “I was 18, he was 21. We got married 3 years later. I befriended you guys a few months after the wedding.”

“I didn’t realize you were that young?”

“I’m only 3 years younger than you guys,” she reminds him. “I’m not a baby.”

“I always forget how young we all were,” he shakes his head. “Have I really known you for 11 years?”

She nods, “Yeah, you have… it’s wild to think we were only friends like 6 months before you switched careers.”

“I know,” he lets out a sigh. “That feels like more than 10 years ago… more like 20.”

“At least the FBI isn’t aging you like a presidency would,” she teases him. “They look ancient after 8 years.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what happens to Obama if he wins,” he smirks. “Do you want to go get dinner, we can keep talking in this parking lot but that would get weird.”

She laughs, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

—

Dinner is them flirting for an hour and then they have to drive home separately. He stops by his hotel to grab his things and check out and then he meets her at home, where she’s fresh out of the shower and in a cute little outfit and he’s all over her.

Bags dropped just beside the locked door, their clothes scattered all over the steps and those beautiful noises she made a few nights ago have returned.

He praises her, he gets her off again and again and then he worries about himself. Even after, he’s cleaning her up, cuddling with her, getting her a drink and laying in bed with her having a chat until she’s ready for another round. She hasn’t had this much sex since she was 19… and even then, it was nothing like this. She’d be lucky to get off once in the 3 times they had sex.

Now, she’s laying on him after riding him to her 5th orgasm of the night and he’s still inside of her. With her head on his shoulder, her forehead rests against his jaw and her nose is on his pulse point. He’s tracing his fingers over her back, down her sides and then back up to where her protruding side boobs are. It makes her shiver, she’s a little ticklish but she doesn’t mind because this feels too good.

“You cold?” He asks.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m okay.”

“Cause we can get a blanket?”

“No, no I like this. I don’t want to move,” she whispers, holding him tighter. She wraps her arms under him. “Unless you—

“No, I’m good,” he’s quick to calm her worries. “I like this. I feel so calm with you on me.”

“Like a weighted blanket,” she teases.

He soothes his hand over her back and turns his head to kiss her forehead gently. “Sexiest blanket I’ve ever had.”

She laughs and then presses a kiss to his neck, never wanting it to end.

— 2 months separated —

It’s like this every night that he’s in her home.

From then on, they have dinner together, they fuck, they sleep side by side and they smile. They laugh. They share secrets and facts and they watch each other's favourite movie, she shows him more music and he actually gets her to listen to the white album in full. He cleans, he does the laundry and she comes home from work on days when he’s had a mandatory 24 hours off, to a spotless house and a meal on the table.

It’s incredible.

Jack comes over for a few hours on Saturdays before the divorce is finalized and he moves to full weekends with his dad. But they get him for the night on Jack's birthday in November, they have cake and presents and they show Jack that he has a room of his own at his Aunty’s house. He loves it, he has a bunkbed and superhero sheets and a bunch of new toys and new clothes so that he doesn’t have to bring stuff back and forth.

Aaron’s “room” gets moved to the basement, once James comes to move all his shit out of this house and into Haleys. Aaron is able to move the queen bed from the guest room to the basement, he has a dresser down there and he builds himself a makeshift office in one corner so when he has to do some work at night he has the space. But he doesn’t always sleep down there, he sleeps in her bed most nights that he’s home or he sleeps on the bottom bunk in Jack's room. He’s a good dad, he doesn’t want him to wake up sad or confused as to where he is.

She feels as though she’s officially swapped husbands with her best friend and yet neither of them are even officially divorced yet…

Aaron has his hearing on November 23rd, the judge signs his divorce and a month later it’s official.

He’s a single man right around Christmas. So is his wife… the only difference between them is that she is proudly saying James is her boyfriend at all her Christmas parties and no one knows that Aaron is sleeping with someone. They know he’s living with her, they think he has a room at her house and that they’re friends who are going through the same thing so of course they’d support each other….

Only supporting each other really means having amazing sex.

Be it in her bed, Aaron’s room downstairs, the shower, on the stairs when he gets home, in the kitchen before work… they were fucking everywhere. She’s had more orgasms than she can count in the last 9 weeks.

— 3 months separated —

This time, they’re going to do it in the armchair in her living room having a quiet January night in front of the fireplace. He looked so good sitting there that she couldn’t help but crawl over and kneel between his legs. She rubs his thigh, looking up at him, hoping he’d let her go down on him while he just keeps sitting there, reading his book with that sexy, concentrating look of his.

He looks down at her with a smirk, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, go back to your book,” she teases.

She gets his pants undone, he helps her tug them down a bit and then she palms over his underwear to try and get him hard, which isn’t difficult in the slightest. She kisses him through the fabric and nuzzles her face against him. He makes her feel feral. The way he smells, his touch, how warm he always is… she would get lost in him for hours if she could. She just wants to sit down here with her hands on his delicious thighs and his cock in her mouth for as long as humanly possible. All night long and then she’ll go to work with him and live under his desk while he does his paperwork.

She slowly pulls his briefs down, the elastic wanting to spring back up to where it belongs so she holds it with one hand while the other rakes through his pubic hair. She traces over his skin, and under his shirt, she feels his tummy. The coarse hair of his treasure trail only excites her more. She pulls his boxers down and rests the elastic waistband under his balls to keep it secure. His cock stands tall, resting against his stomach, she kisses him right at the base and all the way up his shaft.

He holds his book with one hand, other hand comes down to pet her hair. She hums at the feeling, kissing back down his cock again, she grips him and starts to stroke him and pay attention to his balls. In all their sex-capades, she’s never had the chance to fully go down on him. She wants to see what he likes, she wants to show him what it’s like to come undone by someone's mouth. She wants to repay the favour…

She’s just about to take him in her mouth when they get a knock at the door and then they hear it start to open with the call of her name. She’s quick to her feet, blocking Aaron’s body in the chair while he gets his cock back in his pants. Shame all over their faces, they’re so nervous they’re finally going to get caught.

“James?” She calls out, knowing he’s the only other person with a key.

“Hey,” he whispers as he rounds the corner into the living room. Jack, asleep and slung over his shoulder, “I’m so sorry to do this but can you watch Jack tonight?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she reaches out for him. He’s 3 now, bigger than he’s ever been and heavy as hell while he’s sound asleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Haley’s… she uh… we… um—” he doesn’t know how to say it. There’s a panic in his face that she knows isn’t good. “She’s miscarrying, it’s kinda bad.”

Aarons is right there, standing behind her now, “is she okay?”

He shrugs, moving back to the doorway with them anxiously in tow, “Not sure, we’ve gotta get her to the hospital but I can call with updates later?”

“Yeah, go,” she shoves him out the door and shuts it behind him. She lets out a sigh, holds Jack a little closer and snuggles her head against his. “Oh my god?”

“Here,” Aaron reaches out for him. “I’ll put him in his room.”

“Okay,” she hands him over easily.

He’s in his pjs under his coat and he has his boots on. It’s only a little after 8 so he hasn’t been asleep for long. They get him out of his outdoor clothes and tuck him into his bed on the top bunk. He wakes up just a bit, asks where he is and then goes back to sleep easily with a kiss on the head and the promise they’ll see him in the morning.

And then they’re alone in the living room again.

“That was—

“Awkward and unfortunate,” Aaron laughs. “We almost got caught with our pants down.”

“Not mine, just yours,” she teases, leaning into his side. She looks up at him and sighs, “You okay?”

He nods, “yeah… I mean… I don’t know?”

“They’re moving so fast,” she can’t believe it.

“Well, yeah, she’s almost 35. She had a hard enough time getting pregnant before, she’s not going to waste any more time when they both want kids,” he rationalizes it.

“But still, the divorce just went through and that’s on your end, ours hasn’t even started yet? They’re going to be super pregnant by the time it’s all over,” she can’t believe it.

“She wanted us to try again last year,” he shares, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “I had this awful case, my co-worker had been arrested and he told us some pretty serious, pretty awful things that happened to him before we arrested a man he knew growing up for murder… and I came home and all I wanted to do was cry and look at my son and know he’s safe and he’d never have to go through that but she wanted to try again. I wasn’t able to do anything, I couldn’t even dream about having an erection after what we went through on that case and that’s when she started to accuse my job of ruining my life and the worst part was that I wasn’t allowed to tell her things. She never let me explain a case to her, she didn’t want to hear about the awful things I saw and she didn’t understand how it could affect me so much and I still wanted to go back. But I have to do this. I have to save little babies like my Jack from having these things happen and get justice for the little Derek’s of the world.”

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” she doesn’t know what else to say.

“That was just after Jack's first birthday. We finally tried again the month after, but it didn’t work, she suggested we do IVF last October and I missed the first appointment and she never touched me again after that,” he looked down at his hands in his lap and twiddled his thumbs. “She didn’t even bring it up again until I was suspended. She said that it would be easier for us to conceive if I was home more… but she was already cheating on me. Part of me wonders how long this last pregnancy has been going on for because was she just asking to cover up being pregnant with his baby or was she actually going to stop it to try with me?”

“Honestly, I wonder that too. Jack was almost 2 when James and Haley started hanging out more, that’s when he stopped pestering me as much,” she shares. “It was so nice to not be bothered every day about how much I work and how long I’d still be on birth control and when I’d do his laundry… he was so much nicer to me with her."

“I still don’t understand why you stayed so long?” He looks at her so confused. “You were so unhappy for so long?”

“Because where was I going to go? I cut off contact with my family after high school cause they were awful and my only friend for the longest part of my life was my husband and then the one friend I thought I had kept telling me I was so lucky with James. She heard me complain about the pressure he put on me and thought ‘Wow that sounds like the best life let me take that husband for myself!’” She jokes because it’s the only way she won’t cry. “So I had no couch to sleep on if I left, no friends to support me, I’d have to find a way to pay for a new apartment and a divorce and you know it’s not cheap. I’m only able to stay afloat right now because Andrea got me a friends and family discount with her sister-in-law and you’re giving me rent money.”

He nods along, understanding just how hard it is to leave someone. He’s seen this at work, he knows abusive relationships— even the ones that aren’t physically abusive, are still hard to leave. You can’t just wake up one day and go, it has to come with a plan or something detrimental. Like catching him cheating with her best friend. “How long have you wanted to leave him?”

“I’m not sure,” she’s honest. Really thinking about it for the first time… “we went to Florida for the honeymoon, we were there all of 2 days when we had our first big fight about his expectations. Before that, we never fought. I’ve known him since I was 14, started dating when I was 16, he was 19… his parents liked me and took me in and I admired the way his mom was a stay-at-home mom but I never wanted to be her. I was always at their house because mine was a fucking nightmare and they knew I had troubles and I had said before I won’t have kids until I’m super stable… When they bought him a house after his college courses ended and he said I could move in after graduation I jumped on it because I needed an escape and we were so happy at the start. His mom helped us around the house and stocked our fridge and I was learning how to cook with her and then he dropped the bombshell on me on the honeymoon that It was time to suck it up and be a real wife.”

“Did you not talk about this stuff before the wedding?”

“Not really…? I mean we talked about the wedding itself and how nice it would be to belong to each other… I really wanted to be his wife. I was so tired of having my dad's last name and relying on them for money. James asked me to marry him on my 19th birthday, I was a semester and a half into college, and I only had 2 years of school, 4 semesters total. He said we could wait until I was in my field and fully employed to even start planning the wedding and then I found out that he and his mom had planned most of it and it was a month after my graduation. She did practically everything but buy my dress and write my vows.”

“And you didn’t think that was a red flag?”

“Oh, I thought it was insane but again, who was I going to run to? I was more afraid of being alone and broke and homeless than dealing with him every day because at least he wasn’t as bad as my dad. I felt like I had no right to run if he wasn’t beating me and maybe, just maybe… I could’ve changed him. I really thought the more I protested the more he’d settle and live with the fact I wasn’t like his mom.”

“What happened with your parents?”

“My dad is abusive and my mom basically has Stockholm syndrome,” she relays it quick. “If it was up to my parents I’d be a boy and a doctor but no, I was the 3rd girl and the reason my mom had a hysterectomy and there’s now zero males in the family line so… yeah, I can’t fucking stand my parents.”

“My dad liked to get drunk and scream… he only hit my mom the 1 time— that I saw at least when I was 8 and I stepped in. I was the punching bag from then on out. It was hard on my relationships, I was afraid that I’d go out on a date or have a team practice and my dad would hurt her while I was gone. And then I met Haley the same day my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.”

“Holy shit?”

He just nods, “yeah. So I thought maybe, just maybe… I could join this play, I could fall in love with the prettiest girl my teenage self had ever met and he’d be too tired from his chemo to hurt my mom while I was busy. And I was right, for a while. But there’s this thing that happens to people when they’re dying, they have 1 last good day…”

“I’ve heard about that.”

“And he used his last good day to scream and yell at my mother while I was at Haley's house. Sean called me, he said Dad was at it again and I needed to rush home… And Haley’s dad never really liked me, I mean who would like the boy who’s trying to sleep with his daughter?” He manages to smile for a moment. “But he heard the call, he heard the panic in Sean's voice and he drove me home and he came in with me to see my dad dead in the foyer. All that yelling, all that anger, it finally killed him. And her family took me in that night. And every few nights after that, I’d go over for dinner and sleep on the couch in the living room and I felt like I had a real family who loved me when mine fell apart.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” she can’t even imagine that. “It’s the craving for a family that got me, too. I thought I’d build my own with him and it would be fine but the longer I was with him the longer I realized I never wanted my own children to hate their father the way I hate mine. And my mom never left, my mom just turned a blind eye to the insanity that came out of his mouth and I never wanted to be that mom. I never ever want any child I have to think or know that their father is a terrible man and I was okay with it.”

“And I was so scared to end up like my father,” he whispers, so ashamed of those thoughts. “Part of me was glad when she couldn’t get pregnant, I thought I was saving my kids from what I went through… but she’s a good mom. She’s the best mom in the world.”

“She is really wonderful,” she agrees but her heart is breaking.

Part of the reason you shouldn’t fuck the husband of the woman who stole your own is because you can fall in love with him… and then two of the men you gave everything to only want 1 woman. The same woman. And she’s not you.

“I uh, I’m going to go to bed,” she announces, standing up quickly. “You’re probably going to go sleep in—

“I don’t have to,” he stands up to, placing his hand on her arm. “What’s wrong, what happened there?”

“Nothing,” she lies, shaking the jealous thoughts away. “I’m just tired.”

“Can I still sleep beside you even if we’re not doing anything?” He asks softly, staring her down with those beautiful brown wonders, making her heartache worse.

“Yeah,” she gives in easily.

So he helps her lock up and turn out all the lights, he checks on Jack once more and then they head to her room. They change, he strips down to his boxers and she has just a sleep shirt on and they get under the sheets together. She lays there, staring at the ceiling and he turns to her, there’s an awkward haze that takes over the room but he doesn’t say anything.

He simply throws his arm around her middle, snuggles into her side and goes to sleep. Leaving her with her thoughts until the wee hours of the morning when she finally drifts off too.

— 4 months separated —

Jack’s so used to his weekend schedule at his dad's place. He wakes up to find his dad on the bottom bunk and then a morning of snuggles before they come in to get his aunty and go have breakfast together downstairs.

Aaron got called out of bed in the middle of the night for what sounded like a pretty serious case. He was up and out around 2 a.m., and with a kiss to her head, as she lay there half awake, she promised to spend the day with Jack for him. That meant that when he woke up around 7, all alone, he showed up in her room, beside her bed, and he shook her arm to wake her up.

She startles awake, “Oh, gosh, Jack?”

“Where’s daddy?”

She sighs, “he had to go to work.”

“Oh,” he sulks. “Home?”

“No, no, you can stay with me today, your dad might be back tonight or tomorrow morning. Unless you want me to call your mom? Do you want to go home?” She asks, always wanting him to feel safe first and foremost.

He lights back up, “No, I stay.”

“Of course you can,” she smiles, sitting up more. “Wanna come up and cuddle? I know you love your morning cuddles with your dad.”

He nods, getting her help to bring her up onto the mattress, he sneaks under the covers and snuggles into her. “You cuddle dad, too?” He asks.

Her face heats up with a tinge of embarrassment. He has seen them snuggle before, on the couch downstairs, when he wanders downstairs a few minutes after being put to bed. In the beginning, he didn’t like his new room, so he’d do everything to stay up with them as long as possible before they could transport him up there when he was already sound asleep. He’s only ever wandered into her room to find his dad once before, he saw them all cuddled up together with her on his chest when he reached up and shook her arm, much like he did this morning.

“Yeah, sometimes I do,” she’s honest with him. “Do Mom and James cuddle?”

He nods, “and kiss.”

“Gross,” she teases, tickling his side and making him laugh.

He has no understanding of the situation, he probably barely knew that James and her were together before. They weren’t touchy-feely, he never saw them kiss, he’s just known them both since he was born. Having his parents break up is something he also couldn’t comprehend, so it’s normal in his mind now that James and his mommy kiss while dad and Aunty Y/N cuddle sometimes… and if things ever work out between them, if this is what she feels like it is… explaining to him that his stepdad and stepmom used to be married to each other is going to be a weird, incredibly awkward, conversation.

And if things don’t work out… part of her wonders how long she’ll be his aunty. How long will he know her? Is there going to be a day he hasn’t seen her for so long that he forgets she was ever his aunty? Is she just going to be some woman in the photos of his baby book that he points to and asks about? It breaks her heart to think about it.

She snuggles him in closer and kisses his head, “I love you, buddy,” she adds for good measure.

“I love you,” he snuggles her right back.

They were going to have a good day today.

—

They’re in the middle of dinner (dino nuggets and smiley fries and a small plastic cup of orange fuzzy drink because he was a good boy today) when Aaron walks in. “Y/N?” He calls out as he puts his briefcase down.

Jack comes running from the table towards him screaming “Daddy!!!” Only to jump into Aaron’s arms.

He holds him close, kissing his cheek a few times, “I missed you! How was your day?”

She smiles from the archway that separates the dining room from the main hall, it’s one hell of a sight… he was such a good dad. He made having kids look like a breeze and honestly, his kid is a breeze. He’s polite, calm and smart. He’s adorable and sweet and even at 3 and a bit, he still has his same baby smell that does make her want one of her own sometimes.

He explains to Aaron in his toddler babble what they did that day as he walks him back over to the archway where she is. “Really?” Aaron pretends to be shocked as if she didn’t text him all day with updates.

She nods, “We had a great day.”

“And you’re having dinner?” He asks, peering into the dining room. “Is that… she let you have some special drink?” He asks, bouncing him just the one time to make him giggle and not upset his almost full tummy.

He nods like a bobblehead, “Yeah!!” Lighting up with the biggest smile.

“Wow, you really did have a great day!” He cheers, “Can you guys set me a plate? I’m going to get changed and then come back and see you, okay?”

He hurries back to his feet and reaches out for her hand, pulling her back into the kitchen but she laughs, “One second buddy, I’ll be right there,” she lets him head in without her.

She steps towards him, away from wandering eyes and he pulls her in quickly, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she smiles. “I love that little boy you made.”

Aaron steals one last kiss before heading downstairs to “his” room to change. He puts his gun away in his safe, puts his suit back on a hanger and hangs it on the “worn but still clean” side of his closet. He changes into some sweatpants and a long-sleeved blue shirt that he rolls up to his elbows where it’s comfortable. He takes the steps back upstairs 2 at a time just as she and Jack are placing a flower-shaped plastic plate of dinner on his place setting.

Eating like a toddler is actually really fun, he’s so glad he managed to skip dinner with the team to come do this. They talk about the park and the movie they watched after nap time this afternoon, apparently, Shrek is his new favourite. Jack’s just happy his dad is home tonight for his bath and a book before bed, because he’s exhausted by the end of dinner. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he’s going to be out like a light right at 8 p.m.

Aarons got him out of the bath and into his pjs, reading to him while he lay in his bunk bed which is only a few feet off the ground. It’s not a big kid bunk bed, it’s a small, toddler one that he can’t really get hurt on and Aaron can comfortably stand beside it to tuck him in. Tonight, however, Jack doesn’t just want his dad to tuck him in.

Aaron calls her name from the top of the stairs as she’s doing the dishes, “can you come up here for a sec?”

She quickly drys her hands and hurries up the stairs to find Jack in bed and Aaron smiling. “He has a request.”

“Okay?”

“He wants to know if we can all cuddle together in your bed tomorrow morning,” Aaron asks for him.

“Oh,” she looks at him and then at Jack. “Really?”

He nods from his spot in bed. “Today was fun.”

“I had fun too,” she reaches over and pats his tummy. “You’re always welcome to crawl into bed with me whenever you’re here.”

“Dad too?”

She nods, “Yeah, if we’re having another sleepover like that last time you walked in on us sleeping, then you can join us too.”

“Tonight?”

“Are we having a sleepover tonight?” She looks at Aaron with a smirk.

“I’d like that,” he smiles right back.

“Okay, then I guess when you wake up in the morning, Dad might still be in my room, okay?” She assures Jack, “Have a good, long sleep before then, though, okay?”

He nods, “I’m tired.”

“I bet,” she leans in and presses a kiss to his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Aunt Y/N,” he smiles right back.

“Goodnight, buddy,” Aaron leans in and gives him a kiss too. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

They leave his room together, turning off the light and closing the door for the night. In the hallway, Aaron pulls her in close, brushes her hair off her face and smiles at her. “Thank you, again for today.”

“I’d hang out with him every day if I could,” she assures him. “Come on, I’ve gotta finish the dishes but—

“Let me,” he stops her. “You can get ready for bed, have a bath, I’ll get you some wine, just relax. I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?”

He looks at her through his lashes, as if to say ‘Come on?’ Because she should know by now that he is nothing like her husband. He’s not allergic to doing the dishes, he’s not put off by folding laundry, and he’s not the kind of man to desperately need a beer in front of the TV while she worries about everything else.

“Go relax.” It’s more of an order this time than a suggestion.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll be in the bathroom,” she gives in with a shrug.

“Red or White?” he asks with a smile, leaning in to steal one last kiss before he lets her go. She picks a white wine and he taps her ass with his hand as she walks away.

Downstairs, he waits to hear the water running in her bathroom above the kitchen before pouring her wine. He finishes the dishes and drains the sink almost at the same time he hears the water turn off. He knows she’s in the bath now, hopefully, she had some bubbles or bath salts and maybe even a book or magazine to read. He pours her a glass of her favourite screw-top white wine and adds a little more than normal so she doesn’t run out before the bath water starts to run cold.

He heads back upstairs, into the room where he notices she’s set out her new pjs and underwear on the bed for when she gets out. He knocks on the ensuite bathroom door before entering, she softly calls out that he can come in and as soon as he enters he’s hit with a wall of steam.

“Is that the water that’s steaming up the room or you?” He teases, eyeing her up in the tub as she pulls the bubbles towards herself to hide her naked body. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” she mocks, reaching out for her wine.

“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” He questions, kneeling down beside the tub so he’s on her eye level. “I don’t just say that to get you naked, I actually mean it.”

“Yeah well, you can mean it… Doesn’t mean I have to think it, too,” she says before taking a sip.

He fully sits on the ground now, resting his arm on the side of the tub and leaning his head against his hand. He gives her a look, one she’s seen many, many times. She knows he wants her to explain herself, he wants to get inside her mind. He wants her to tell him so he doesn’t have to profile her, but she’s sure he already has one going.

“Being appreciated for a few months doesn’t compare to 30 years of feeling like shit,” she explains. “You should know that.”

“You really feel this way?” He asks, wanting to know everything. “Did he make you think this? Did he ever tell you that you were nothing without him? Did he isolate you on purpose or did you not try and reach out for friends because—

“Aaron,” she reaches out for him with a soapy hand. “Hey, it’s okay. He wasn’t doing any of that, you don’t have to worry about what he’ll do to Haley. He’s always wanted her, I was just the first woman to pay attention to him and by being the person who took his virginity, he felt like he had to marry me. His parents are religious, even if he isn’t anymore, their opinion on that matters. Our marriage was one of convenience. He’s happy now.”

“That still doesn’t make me feel better,” he pouts. “He was with you for 16 years, he’s known you for 18… and he never complimented you? He never made you feel beautiful?”

She shakes her head, “No… but you’re helping now.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he gives her a sweet smile. “I know it shouldn’t come down to another person's opinion of you, your self-worth should come from within… but you’re so special to me. You make me so happy, I think you’re so beautiful. Everything we do together is a gift.”

She looks like she could cry, but she nods and swallows sharply. “I know… If it wasn’t for you if I was completely alone right now dealing with all this… I would probably just slip under the water and—

“Don’t say that. I’m never leaving you,” he assures her, cutting into her thoughts and stopping them in their tracks. “Not because I feel bad for you or because I’m scared you’ll do that if I’m gone but because I’m having the best time of my life here. I thoroughly enjoy you and your company and your attention and your mind and your body and your time.”

She takes another sip of her wine and hands it back to him as she sits up, “get in here.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say that and not fuck me right after,” she looks at him like it’s a no-brainer. “Come on, there’s room.”

“Okay,” he doesn’t even think twice.

He puts her glass down on the sink counter and pushes his sweatpants to the ground before reaching for his shirt and taking it off with his arms crossed all sexily. She just shakes her head, wondering how the fuck she got so lucky. She moves to her knees, letting him have the space he needs to get into the tub and sit down in the hot water before she straddles his hips and sits on his lap. She cups his face with her wet, bubbly hands and smiles, “You know what I think about you?”

“Tell me?” He all but begs.

She leans in and kisses him gently on the lips, then his cheek, “I think…” she kisses over to his ear, “you’re so unbelievably sexy.” She kisses his neck as her hands spread down his arms. “You’re kind, and smart and sweet,” she keeps praising him. “You’re a wonderful, incredible, man… my favourite man.”

He tugs her back by her hair so that he can look into her eyes, “Say that again.”

“You’re my favourite man,” she repeats, staring between his eyes and his lips. “In the whole world.”

“I’m your man,” he assures her. Caressing her hair, his hand comes over to cup her cheek, he runs his thumb over her bottom lip while staring at it.

She runs her hands down his chest, raising her hips she goes for his dick, hardening as they spoke, and she starts to pump him under the water. He melts into her touch, adoring the way she makes him feel so taken, so secure, so taken. He wants to be hers and only hers for the rest of time.

“Say it?” He whispers.

“You’re my man,” she replies almost instantly. Feeling his cock twitch in her hand, she brings him to her cunt and slowly starts to sit down on it.

“Oh,” he tosses his head back slightly and then snaps back to look at her right in the eyes. Foreheads touching, he pulls her flush to his body so they’re as close as possible. “I belong to you.”

She kisses him deeply, breathing him in and it hits him. Really hits him. He’s known for a while that he has very strong feelings for her… He knows he thoroughly enjoys this life that they are building together and how being with her has made everything else in his life easier… but now he knows that he loves her. He’s in love with her.

He grips her hips helping her ride him without sending the water over the edge of the tub. Their kiss heats up as the tension builds, her hands are in his hair and he grips at her skin trying to pull her in closer. Like two atoms being fused together, they want to become one. Inside her, all around her, feelings her, loving her, it’s all so much.

“Mine,” she all but moans against him as they come up for air.

“Yours,” he breathes back, leaning in to kiss her cheek and jaw.

She tosses her head back, letting him kiss along her neck. She has work tomorrow, he knows that, but he still wants to mark her. He wants to suck a deep and delicious bruise into her neck and let anyone who sees her know that she’s being taken care of… at the same time, he’d love for no one to know. Her ringless finger allows for people to hit on her and thus she would have to say the words he’d love to hear. “Sorry, I’m already spoken for.”

He’s so tempted to tell her that he loves her like this but he knows she doesn’t feel the same way. She’s simply too nice to him. She lets him live in her house (he pays rent even though she doesn’t want his money), she loves his son like her own, she takes care of them both, she has sex with him, she makes him coffee in the morning and lets him talk about his awful cases at night when they’re eating him alive… she’s so kind to him in every aspect of life, but that doesn’t mean she loves him back.

He’s thought about this for so long, too. If she’s even capable of loving him back… is she still hung up on her ex-husband? Was the trauma so bad she’d never try to love again? Will it just take her some time and will she still want him around by then? Because he’ll wait. He’ll do whatever it takes to hear her say the words one day.

Till then, he takes whatever he can get in these precious, impossibly close moments where she feels like his. She can know he belongs to her, she can say it a million times, but it won’t mean much until she’s his to keep forever too.

She pulls him back to her mouth, both of them attempting to kiss but so caught up in the feeling that they’re more so breathing against each other. She moans, and he soaks it in, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly. She follows him, kissing the side of his mouth and then resting her forehead against him. “Look at me,” she whispers her demand.

He does, staring deep into her eyes, she cups his face. “Make me yours, too,” she whispers. “Take me, claim me, keep me forever.”

He whines and as if she is reading his mind she says everything he wants to hear. Well, almost. An ‘I love you’ would’ve thrown him over the edge way too quick.

“Mine,” he says before stealing another kiss, voice deep with pure need. “Mine,” he repeats as he kisses her neck one of his hands spreads over her lower stomach and his thumb heads straight for her clit. The third time it comes straight from his gut, “mine,” he growls as his free hand spreads over her back, tugging her in even closer.

She seems to go feral for it, making out with him in a way she never has before as her nails dig into the skin of his upper back. They’re making a bit of a mess with the water splashing but they couldn’t care less, so wrapped up in this little world where they belong to each other.

— 5 months separated—

He doesn’t text or call much when he’s on a case. Wrapped up and busy in saving the day, she can’t really blame him.

But suddenly she understands Haley’s feelings a little more. Falling for Aaron Hotchner meant missing him deeply. It meant craving him all the time and having to deal with the fact he loves to save the world… or at least the people in his small corner of it. He’ll never change. She doesn’t want him to. She doesn’t expect anything more from him, but that doesn’t stop her from missing him.

However, when he does text it’s often to say he’s on his way home. Either to ask her to put on some coffee or take off her clothes and wait for him… tonight it’s the former.

Aaron: just landed. This case was awful. We have a mandatory 24 hours off so the team is getting drinks and they won’t let me slip away without telling them what I’m really wanting to go home for. You. So I’m going to taxi home, I’ll go get my car sometime tomorrow so I can pick Jack up for my weekend time. I miss you, but don’t feel the need to wait up for me. I’ll see you soon.

She doesn’t want him to have to do that. So she gets dressed up, she calls a cab for herself and she goes into the bar with the intention of meeting his friends and driving him home in his big SUV. She doesn’t even think about if he wants her there, how weird it’ll be to meet his friends or what she would even say to him.

Before she could overthink it, she was there.

He’s easy to spot. In the back corner, he and all his friends have drinks in their hands as they stand around a tall, circular table. She walks right up, places her hand on his arm and smiles. “Funny seeing you here,” she teases.

“Hey,” he puts his drink down and opens his arms, inviting her in for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your text, thought I’d drive you home instead?” She says against his shoulder just loud enough for him to hear, holding him back for a moment longer than she should’ve. But it felt nice… and she missed him.

When she does pull away, all his friends are even more confused. Aaron notices it this time as well. “Uh, everyone this is Y/N, Y/N these are my coworkers. Derek, Spencer, Emily, Penelope and Jennifer. Dave was here but someone hit on him and then he was gone.”

She laughs, from what she’s heard that is very Dave of him to do. “Hi, nice to meet you,” she gives the rest of them a wave and a smile and they all say their pleasantries back to her over the loud music.

“So how do you know each other?” Emily asks.

“Oh, uh,” she doesn’t know if she can say it, she just looks up at Aaron who looks just as stumped. So she drops the bomb on them. “Well, um… my husband— well, my soon-to-be ex-husband is Haley’s new boyfriend.”

At the same time, all their eyes widen and jaws drop, “oh, oh damn?” Penelope is the first to speak. “You’re the one who sent the email?”

She nods, “yeah… it’s been a weird few months.”

“I uh, I’m going to get another drink,” Aaron announces. “Want to come—

“Yes,” she agrees right away, following him over to the bar and away from his friends. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you told them everything.”

“Derek is the only one who knows everything, everything,” he assures her. “They know of the email and the divorce and the new boyfriend. They don’t know that I live with you now or that we’re… what we are.”

She nods, “Yeah, I mean, that’s a little hard to explain when we haven’t even really talked about what we are.”

“I know,” he looks at her lips and then into her eyes and then to her lips again. She doesn’t know how many drinks he’s had, but definitely a few. “God, you’re beautiful, you know that?”

She smirks, shaking her head, “Okay, Hotchner, whatever you say.”

“No, no I mean it. You’re so beautiful, did you get dressed up for this or is this how you’ve looked all day?”

“I went to work like this,” she assures him. “Are you okay?”

He nods, smile widening, “Perfect now that you’re here.”

“Do you really need another drink?” She teases him, thinking he’s drunk.

“No,” he steps in closer to her and wraps his arm around her waist to bring her in even closer. “I rather have a glass of you.”

“So let me take you ho—

“Have you ever done it in a bar bathroom?”

She just laughs, “No, what? Are you insane?”

He laughs too, “I’ve missed you so much, I don’t want to have to go home just to show you…”

“You’re crazy,” she laughs, shaking her head with disbelief.

“That’s not a no…”

“You’re right,” she can’t believe him right now but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t crave him while he was gone all week. He’s so close to her, his thumb rubbing circles over her skin as he stares into her soul, not even caring if anyone sees them. “Your friends are going to know.”

“And?” He shrugs, not caring in the slightest. “I’m their boss, they can’t bully me, I’ll just give them more paperwork.”

She laughs again, leaning into his side she wraps her arm around him, “Lead the way.”

This particular bar's bathrooms are small. Single-use, no specific gender required, there are 4 of them down the hallway and 2 of them are occupied already. They take the one at the very end of the hall, Aaron is quick to lock the door before she’s got him pressed up against it, kissing him right away. She missed his mouth, she missed his touch and his smell and just him. She missed him so goddamn much and she was going to show him.

His hands search her back, down over her ass and then he gives her a good squeeze and groans. Kissing the side of her mouth, down her neck, he keeps groping her, “Love when you wear these jeans.”

She smirks, “I know, I know, they hug my ass perfectly.”

“Mm, boy do I wish I was a pair of jeans,” he teases before diving in for another, heated kiss.

He starts to back her up, moving her towards the sink, he goes to help her up when she protests. “Ah, ah, nope,” she pushes him back for a moment. “I do not trust this sink.”

“Oh come on,” he can’t believe it. “It’s sturdy it’s been here for years—

“Exactly, it’s old. That’s why I’m not sitting on it while you fuck me,” she fights back. “Both our weight is no match for this piece of plywood and some caulk.”

“But I like your weight on my caulk,” Aaron teases.

She swats him, shocked he’d ever say that even when slightly drunk, “You did not just—

“I did,” he cuts her off, moving in to steal another kiss. He kisses as if he’s breathing in her soul and then presses one more kiss to her lips. He kisses her cheek and her forehead, “just had to get a few more in before—“

He grips her by the shoulders and spins her around, moves her hair off her neck and starts to kiss her there. He takes a second to run his hands over her boobs and down her chest, he stops at the start of her jeans and unbuttons them. With her head lulled to the side, she softens and rests back against his shoulder.

“Aaron,” she moans, keeping her voice down as much as possible while still cheering him on the way he said he liked.

He gets her pants down, feeling up her thighs and around to her lower butt cheeks, truly loving how soft she is. He says it every time, he practically worships her every chance he gets. He starts to push her underwear down too, both them and her pants rest mid-way down her thighs. He bends her forward more, taking a second to massage her ass, watching in awe as her pussy lips open from the movement. She’s wet and glistening and he wants her so bad. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby.”

He quickly unbuckles his belt, pops the button and throws the fly open, she pushes back against him to feel his bulge against her ass with a groan. “Hurry up.”

He pulls himself out of his boxers and taps his hard cock against her ass, “what was that?”

“Please, Aaron,” she begs.

He slips inside her and his hands grip her hips, trailing forward to her stomach, one hand goes to her clit while the other stays on her stomach for balance. He kisses the side of her neck again, “honey, I’m home,” he teases, making all the hair on her body stand up.

He considers her as home.

She places her hand over his on her stomach and interlocks their fingers just as he starts to thrust. They’re small, light, beginner thrusts but still something. He goes to move his hand away but he brings her with him, he pushes her forward so she’s bent over the sink with one hand behind her back so he can still hold her hand. With her free hand, she rests it against the wall and catches a glimpse of him in the mirror.

The way he looks at her like this, so full of lust and want and need, it’s enough to make her cum right then and there. But he starts to get faster, his middle finger bumps against her clit and she moans again, “fuck, Aaron.”

“Missed this. Wanted so badly to roll over in the night and fuck you, wanted to wake up with you naked beside me, missed hearing your noises and kissing you everywhere… god,” he groans. He keeps his voice low as possible but he can’t stop himself. “Missed how you taste, missed your touch, missed your voice and your laugh… you’re my girl, want everyone here to know it.”

That does it for her, she’s right there on the edge and she knows he will be too. He’s said it before, the way she pulls him in deeper when she cums is his undoing every single fucking time they’ve done this. She loves it, she wants to feel him lose control and empty himself inside her but she knows how awkward that’ll feel when they leave this tiny bathroom.

“I can’t,” she whines, it feels too good for her sentence to come out all in one go. “Oh god, I can’t… I can’t go hang out with your friends with-with your cum dripping out of me.”

He drops her hand to grip her hair and he pulls her head back and to the side, where she feels his hot breath on her ear. “Who said we were going to go back to my friends?”

“They’re not gonna let you leave without saying goodbye,” she reminds him. Reaching behind him to grip his side, she’s so used to holding him so tight when they fuck that she misses it. She needs a handful of him at all times.

“So you don’t want me to claim you again?” He asks, making sure this is what she wants. “You want me to skip your favourite part?”

She whines, “no, no, I guess not.”

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks and takes a nibble at her ear. “I know you love it. You love feeling taken, and being claimed. You like being mine.”

“I love— it. I love it!” she moans out, almost saying she loved him but she caught herself in time.

They’re both right there, she knows she’s so close and she can tell he is too with the way his thrusts change. They’re powerful, snappy, deep and delicious. She grips him tighter, tosses her head back with one final, drawn-out moan and cums on his cock just as he says it.

“Oh, I love you,” he growls in her ear.

It’s barely there, he’s so caught up in his orgasm that he doesn’t even really notice that it slipped out. If he doesn’t acknowledge it, she’s not going to either. It was probably a mistake. He didn’t mean to say it, not like how she almost did. He’s drunk, he’s tired, he’s been through a lot this week… surely he didn't mean it.

He kisses her neck again, breathing heavily against her as he comes down, “holy fuck.” He wraps his arms around her, holding her in a tight hug, he rests his chin against her shoulder with a sigh.

Breathing like she also ran a marathon, full of both euphoria and anxiety, her stomach is a mess of butterflies and feelings. “Yeah…”

He pulls some paper towels from the dispenser and he’s quick to catch any fallout as he pulls out. Sober enough to not want to ruin her jeans but she still thinks he’s too drunk to actually mean that he loves her.

Those words are going to haunt her until he says them again. Sober. Looking into her eyes. Really meant it with his whole heart.

“There you go,” he coos, kissing her neck one last time. He pulls away to toss out the tissue and put himself back into his pants.

She simply takes a moment to pee, he washes his hands but she catches him watching her through the mirror. Sometimes he gets insatiable like this, he looks at her like a meal and he’s been on death row for ages. He looks at her like he’s the hunter and she’s prey and it always makes her stomach flip. It’s so raw, so real, so intense, she never knew someone could be so attracted to her… but she still doesn’t want to believe he really said he loves her.

Before they leave the bathroom he pulls her in close, chest to chest again, and he cups her face. “You okay?”

She nods, “Yeah, I’m just not used to fucking you and not being able to fall right back into my bed.”

He laughs, “I love how tired and cute you get after.”

“And now I have to meet your friends,” she shakes her head, nervous as hell. It feels a little unbelievable to her that she is meeting them finally and this is the state she’s in while she does so.

“They’ll love you.”

Like you do?

“Come on,” he places his hand on her arm and leads her to the door. They leave together without a care in the world who sees and makes their way back to the table his friends were once at.

They’re all over the room now, Spencer is talking to some man. Derek is leaning against a wall with a pretty woman standing in his personal space. Emily is leaning over another woman teaching her how to play pool and Penelope is at the bar, grabbing another drink with JJ. So that’s who they walk back up to, she watches carefully as the two women smile knowingly but invite them back into conversation.

“Where’d you two go?” JJ asks with a teasing tone.

“Nowhere,” Aaron shrugs, trying desperately to hold back a smile but he can’t. “We’re going to go home though, let the others know for me?”

“Home?”

She nods, “We live together.”

“Like wife swap,” Penelope says and then covers her mouth as if it wasn’t supposed to come out.

She just laughs. “Yeah, like wife swap.”

“What’s wife swap?” Aaron asks.

“It’s a TV show, where couples sign up to switch lives for upwards of a week so that they can see how easy they really have it. The husbands and the kids stay in their house but they exchange wives,” JJ explains.

“So I guess technically we played husband swap and we wouldn’t have been picked for the show because we already knew each other,” Y/N teases.

“You knew each other?” Penelope can’t believe it. Now she knows for sure Aaron doesn’t talk about this stuff at work.

They both nod, “we worked together,” she explains. “I’m a court stenographer and I transcribed at least 50 of Aaron’s cases before he left… Haley was my best friend.”

“Holy fuck,” JJ lets slip. Usually, she doesn’t curse, she can tell from the way Aaron’s brows go up. “Sorry, that’s just so insane to me?”

“Tell me about it,” she scoffs. “It’s been a crazy few months but we’re doing okay.”

She looks up at Aaron who looks right back down at her. His hand still on her back, he tugs her into his side. “Better than okay.”

“Well, uh,” JJ doesn’t even know what to say after that. There’s clearly something there that she doesn’t even know if they know is there, so she takes a deep breath and decides to let them go. “We’ll all have to get together again sometime?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she gives them both a smile. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“Can I have my keys?” Aaron asks Penelope who immediately starts to dig through her big purse. She’s the only one who carries a purse, so of course, all their things go in it when they’re out.

“Here you go,” she hands him the red carabiner that holds all his keys. His car key, Haleys house key, a key to Y/N’s house, his office key, his mailbox and the storage unit that holds all the shit he didn’t want to bring to her place.

“Thanks,” he takes them with his free hand, still holding her hip with the other. “Call me if there’s anything urgent or I’ll see you on Monday.”

They wave them off and head outside together. He hands her the keys to his SUV which is parked in the back lot. It’s dimly lit and even though it’s not the worst part of town, he still holds onto her like his life depends on it. When they reach the car, he opens the driver's side door for her and helps her in, he steals one last kiss and then hands her the keys. “Let's go home.”

— 6 months separated —

6 months on the dot after she walked in on Haley and James in her bed, she served him with divorce papers.

He signs the consent answer, and they meet once to go over their settlement agreement, and she brings the papers to the county clerk for date-stamped copies. She pays her $80 filing fee and now all she has to do is wait for the judge to give them a hearing date… and then she’s going to be free.

James and his parents meet her at a real estate attorney’s office not long after. They discuss the deed of the house which her name isn’t on, even though she’s lived there for 13 years and agree to sign it over. With the verbal agreement from James that she could have the house, he and his parents weren’t able to ask for any money in exchange. They sign the new deed with the notary present and she once again files the deed on public record.

Before he leaves, James pulls her aside for a moment. “Uh, I don’t have to come to the hearing, right? It’s just you?”

She nods, “just me. The judge has everything they need and they should sign off on it that same day. It’ll take a month to go through officially, but then we’ll be free.”

“Okay, cool,” he gives her a smile. “Thanks for making this so easy for us.”

“As in me and you or you and her?” She asks, feeling a little twinge of pettiness.

“All of us,” he corrects himself. He stares at her carefully, thankful as ever and it's evident on his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t love you properly. I’m sorry for what we did… but I feel like everything happens for a reason. I had to be with you to meet her.”

She nods, understanding that more than he’ll ever know. Because she feels the same way about Aaron. “Are you going to marry her?”

He nods, “Yeah. It’ll be a fall wedding.”

“You’ve already asked?” She can’t believe it.

“We want to be married before the baby comes.”

Her eyes widen but she says nothing. She knew this was coming but it still hurts. “She’s pregnant again?”

“We did IVF, it’s really new but we’re hopeful this time with all the meds she’s on,” he shares as if they’re friends. As if this doesn’t hurt her feelings even more than before.

“Oh… congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he touches her arm with a smile. “I hope you find some happiness too.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

It just falls out of her. She doesn’t even know why she said it but the thing between her and Aaron felt so real, so intense… so important that she calls him her boyfriend.

“Oh?” He’s a little shocked. “But you’re living with Aaron? Does he like the guy?”

She nods, “Yeah, they get along well.”

“And he doesn’t mind him around Jack?”

She presses her lips together, shaking her head, “Nope… but I mean, he doesn’t come over on weekends unless Jack is asleep.”

“Okay, good,” he says, relieved. Treating Jack as if he’s his own son and he has a say in the people he’s around. “Well… thanks again. Maybe we could all get together sometime?”

“Maybe,” she lies. Knowing she’s not going to want to sit with them or see them happy or know them outside of what little she sees during Jack's pickup and drop-off.

And then he’s gone and the house is officially hers.

She gets the insurance switched over to herself, and she has the privilege of paying the land taxes every year now… which sucks. And she’ll get herself a home security system, but not before she changes the locks.

She bought a whole new door handle with a deadbolt lock and it sits in the front hallway for a week before she asks for help installing it. Aaron has a vague idea of how to change it out but he’s not 100% positive, so he calls Derek. Unbeknownst to her, Derek is a house flipper. He loves to demolish shit and bring homes back to their original beauty when he’s not kicking down doors at the FBI.

It’s a Saturday in April, so Aaron’s out back with Jack building a swing set when Derek shows up. This is only her 3rd or 4th time meeting him, she saw him at that bar a few months back and she’s had lunch with Aaron outside Quantico, but she’s never really talked to his friends.

“So,” Derek says between taking screws out of the old door knob. “How are things going with your divorce?”

“Good, I should have my hearing date soon and then It’ll be official,” she shares with a smile. “And I got the house, which you know because Aaron asked you to come help with this for me.”

“I’m sure he would’ve been able to do it?”

“Yeah but I wanted to be able to watch you do it in case I have to do it alone one day and someone had to be with Jack,” she explains.

“Do you not think you’ll be together long?” He asks, clearly thinking they’re dating.

“Oh, we’re not together,” she assures him. “As much as I’d love to date him, we’re not dating… at least, he’s never said the words and I don’t know if I could even ask I’m so scared he’ll say no and I really don’t know why I’m telling you this, sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reaches out and taps her arm, assuringly. “It’s part of my job, people feel like they can tell me things.”

With the door open so he can work on the locks, she can see right out to the street where there’s a black pickup truck pulling up. James gets out and she sighs, “Good, god, what does he want now?”

Derek lets her pass and she makes her way to the yard, “James?”

“Hey, sorry to just show up,” he apologizes. “I wanted to give you back the keys we had… is that him?”

“What?” She looks back at Derek. “Oh, no, that’s Aaron's co-worker. He’s a house flipper, he’s helping me change the locks.”

Then, from the backyard, she hears running. “Uncle Jamie!!” Jack's little voice is heard and James drops down to his knees to pick him up.

“Hey, little man!”

Aarons right behind him, “We thought we heard a truck pull up…”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just bringing back my keys. Thought I’d get a glimpse of her new boyfriend,” he teases.

“Not the boyfriend!” Derek calls from the doorway.

“Yeah, no she’s not dating anyone?” Aaron says, mildly jealous.

“But you said—

“I did,” she presses her lips together with a burst of air from her nose. “It’s complicated.”

“We just don’t want James around a strange man,” James says, which really pisses Aaron off.

“Well he’s my son so I can make those decisions,” he reminds James, reaching out for Jack who reaches back out for him. “It’s none of your business who she dates or sleeps with or anything. And with my job, I know who’s a good man from one look at him.”

James scoffs, “Okay, man, I didn’t come here to fight.” He takes the keys from his pocket and hands them to her.

“No, you just come over to rub stuff in her face and make her feel like crap,” he gets defensive and puts Jack down on the ground again. “Jack, go see Uncle Derek.”

“Okay,” he says, running off towards the front door.

“I don’t want to see you here unless it’s pick up or drop off day, got it? Haley can call and bring him over if she needs help with something, but I don’t want you here if you’re going to start shit and upset her every time you see her. I hate the way you make her feel,” Aaron says, stepping into James’ space and asserting his dominance.

“You can’t control her,” he fights back. “You’re acting like you own. the place, but you don't! You’re just too cheap to get your own fucking house.”

“This is my house!” Aaron shouts.

“You’re insane, acting like her husband or some shit,” James just starts to laugh.

“I will be one day,” he spits. “I love her, I have loved her for months now. She is the love of my life, the best thing that’s ever happened to me aside from Jack and I will do anything to make sure she never feels even a smidgen close to how you made her feel for almost 2 fucking decades. You piece of shit.”

James doesn’t even know what to say, he just looks over at her, “What?”

“We’re… we’ve been… we’re together,” she simplifies it.

“How long has this been happening?”

“You don’t get to fucking ask that after fucking my wife for a year!” Aaron fully snaps. “You’re the problem here!”

“It’s been 10 years,” he pushes right back. “Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I’ve been fucking Haley for as long as I’ve known her because you were never home. You were a terrible—

“Don’t even fucking dare!” Aaron yells. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you not realize that by filling in for me you left your wife alone? You were also a terrible fucking husband who ruined her self-esteem and didn’t deserve her.”

“Well at least we’ve got what we deserve now,” James says with a shake of his head before retreating back to his truck.

They don’t look at each other, they just watch him leave and stand there in silence. She doesn’t know what to do or say or how to act… Aaron turns to her first. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” She asks, trying her best not to cry. “Cause if you just said that to piss him off I’m never going to talk to you again.”

“Oh, no,” He’s quick to place his hands on her arms, soothing her as he looks right into her eyes, “no, I wasn’t lying. I love you. I love you so much it makes me feel insane.”

She lunges for him, hands on his cheeks as she kisses him hard. He wraps his arms around her back and holds her tight. She peppers kisses to his lips and they both breathe out into little smiles.

“Oh, Aaron, I love you, too,” she finally speaks. “I can’t believe this?”

“Believe it,” he whispers. “I love you. I have loved you the whole time.”

“Like really?” She asks, letting the insecurity slip out. “This isn’t just because we’ve been through the same thing and we’ve only spent time with each other? Like this is real?”

“It’s real… but if you want, given what we’ve gone through— and I’m not saying this to be mean, but we could get couples therapy? We could talk out all these fears and issues and you can see someone to work on your self-esteem?”

She’s a bit shocked but that’s probably the most mature thing they could do. “Yeah, we can try that?”

“Cause I love you, I want this to work, I want to be with you as long as humanly possible,” he explains.

“I love you just as much,” she says, leaning in for another kiss.

“I’m going to love you forever.”

And oddly enough, she believes him.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch

ILALWTWIATTGYO

@eddiemunsonguitar @angelmather1 @kneelforloki @balariie @arsonistlizard @appledressing @pastanoodles11 @thatqueerenby08 @rousethemouse @karinalight @sweetnothingsvulnerability @storybookholland @sailorholly @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @dreamsarebig @darknessgirlgachalifeoficieel @alyeskathewave @ultracherries @bunbunbl0gs @anukulee @thewitchsofart @misselenakate

#rbc recs #rbc recommends #emily omg #ahhhh Emily I cant #im so excited #aaron hotchner smut #rbc recs 🥵 edition #excuse me its too soon for you to attack me with “this is the end of the chapter maybe the end of the book”#Emily nothing can happen to her. please #ok but that law is bullshit #OH SIS SNAPPED. YES QUEEN #“over here playing wife swap with the sexiest FBI agent at quantico” OH MY GOD YES YEE EYS I LOVE THIS LINE #the whole convo with Derek my heart is bursting #stop stop stop I want an Aaron blanket now 😉#ON THE STAIRSm #now im not so sure I should be reading this at work #stop stop not her thinking Aaron still wants haley #Emily Emily Emily THAT BATHROOM SEEN holy fukcing shit holy fucking fucking shit #IM THEIR BOSS THEY CANT BULLY ME ILL JUST GIVE THEM MORE PAPERWORK #I cant I fucking cant im dying omg #TEN YEARS #TEN TEN FUCKING YEARS #wait wait wait .... IS JACK AARONS???

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rumplereids · 7 months ago

Text

wonderstruck.

part one. tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. tech analyst!reader. early-s1!spencer. a/n: tech analyst!reader won’t leave my little brain. i hope u like this :) masterlist. requests are open !

You were 21 when you got recruited into the bureau. Barely a graduate, and already on a FBI watchlist. Honestly, the only reason you’re under their watchful eyes is because of a lapse in judgment.

To celebrate the semester ending, your roommate decided that you both needed to get drunk. Being a psychology major with a pre-med roommate leads to tequila shots in your own dorm room. It’s the convenience and comfort of your own space that got you so drunk. This situation led to this: you admitting to your roommate, with heavy eyes, that you can “hack, you know. I learned when I was 15.”

She sat up from her place on the floor.

“Really? I don’t believe you!” she giggles, and then hiccups.

“I so can!” there’s indignation and a want to prove yourself in the tone of your voice.

“Okay, show me!”

Shuffling on heavy feet, you plop down in front of your laptop. A few clicks and the comforting clacks of your keyboard, and then a window pops open. You look at the wide-gaped mouth of your roommate. “What are you hacking?”

You hum, “I don’t know.”

And then you remember the talk from a few days ago. Two agents from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit came over to your college to talk about criminal profiling to psychology majors and anyone else interested.

Completely inebriated, you manage to hack into their database. Your hazy mind doesn’t forget to compliment the beauty and intricacy of the codes and firewalls you broke down.

At Quantico, Virginia, Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia rushes into her unit chief’s office.

“Sir, somebody is attempting to get into my system. I think they’re trying to communicate?”

Hotch follows Garcia into her office, the quickness of their steps catching the attention of Dr. Spencer Reid who was seated at his desk, skimming over a case report.

When Hotch gets into Penelope’s ‘lair’, his eyes squint, adjusting to the dimmed lights and bright screens. On the main monitor, a window displaying the barebones of a text chat is open.

<ATHEN411> ????

<ATHEN411> hiiiiidfgsd

<YOU> Who is this?

<ATHEN411> ohymgofd i didnt think anyonewould alsnwer

<ATHEN411> wh o it sthis?

<YOU> BAU Section Chief Aaron Hotchner.

<ATHEN411> omfdg i know uuu !! jason mentoined u

<YOU> Jason?

<ATHEN411> yhuhh jason digeon or sumn omg i cant tpoye

<ATHEN411> sorry

<YOU> Jason Gideon? How do you know him?

You’ve completely forgotten about the conversation. Until, a few days later. You’re turning the corner of the hallway to get into your dorm. Backpack slung on a shoulder, arms full of your laptop, binders and a soft-bound copy of your final paper. You stop in your tracks when you see two men stationed outside your room’s door.

One man was in a shirt, jeans, and combat boots. He also had sunglasses on. The other had a permanent furrow to his brows, dressed formally in a suit and tie.

“Hi, can I help you?” you ask, hand reaching into your hoodie pocket for your keys and pepper spray.

The one in sunglasses holds up a badge and ID.

“FBI. I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Hotchner. Are you Y/N L/N?”

You gulp, wondering why they knew your name.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Can we talk somewhere private?”

Your bring out your keys, and you notice how Agent Hotchner eyes the pepper spray keychained to it.

“Um, yeah. We can talk inside? My roommate’s still out.”

You unlock your door and walk in, the agents following in after you. Dropping your bag on your desk chair, you turn to ask the agents, “How can I help you?”

Agent Hotchner asks, “Are you familiar with the name athen-four-one-one?”

You look up at them guilty.

“It’s athena-eleven.”

“So, it’s you?” Agent Morgan clarifies.

“Yes. How did you find me?”

The two men share a glance. A silent conversation passing with you unknowing.

“Two nights ago, you hacked into the BAU’s database.”

You look at them in suprise, “I did?”

“Yes,” Agent Hotchner says, passing a folder to you. Inside are images and a transcript of messages shared between a ‘P.GARCIA’ and ‘ATHEN411’.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, realizing what’s happening.

“I was drunk off my ass two nights ago! I’m so sorry,” that catches Agent Morgan’s attention.

“You were drunk?”

“Yeah, my roommate and I were celebrating our exams. I didn’t… Am I in trouble?”

Agent Hotchner raises a hand in a placating gesture, “You were drunk when you hacked into the bureau’s database?” Confusion and slight amusement evident in the tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you confess, “It was just a dare! I don’t even remember much of it.”

Agent Morgan looks as if he doesn’t know what to think about the situation. You feel the same. Agent Hotchner extends a hand to get the file back from you, and you give it to him easily.

“Would you go with us back to the station?”

“What? For what? Am I being sued?”

“The opposite. I would like to conduct a proper interview.” Agent Hotchner explains.

“An interview? For what?”

“A job as a technical analyst at Quantico.”

You look at them, eyes furrowing in confusion and disbelief, “What? I can’t!”

“Why not?”

You gesture toward your desk, “I still have a paper to pass!”

Meeting Penelope Garcia was like a dream come true.

“I should have realized! The triple-stacked firewall should’ve been so obvious! The Black Queen signature!”

The blonde’s eyes sparkle, happy to meet a match.

“Athena-Eleven! I didn’t even notice you were in my systems until you sent your first message.”

You feel your chest puff up at the indirect praise.

“You were one of my idols,” you admit, “Your exposé on Griffith Industries was just… stunning! Absolutely flawless. You had a section in your code that I used to build my private server—” Agent Hotchner interrupts your spiel.

He gestures to the rest of the room, where agents were seated at a round table.

“This is Y/N L/N, the unit’s newest technical analyst. ” he says, and you give a shy wave. You get a wave back from the agent wearing glasses. He’s cute. Have you seen him before?

“This is Jennifer Jareau, our communications liaison,” you shake her outstretched hand. She’s so pretty, you start to think, gorgeous blue eyes too.

“You’ve met Derek Morgan,” Agent Hotchner says, and Agent Morgan gives a two finger salute, his hands wrapped around a coffee cup.

“Agent Jason Gideon,” you return his handshake, mumbling a shy; “Hello, sir. Nice to see you again.”

And then, “This is Dr. Spencer Reid—”

“Oh! You were with Agent Gideon at the seminar! You talked a bit about geoprofiling, and how an unsub’s subconscious can’t help but stick close to home, which helps you triangulate the—” Agent Hotchner lets out another soft cough.

“Um, yeah. I did. Nice to meet you,” he gives another small wave, smile close-lipped and awkward. Endearing. He’s really cute. “I don’t really shake hands.”

You nod, “I get that, germs and stuff. It’s actually, weirdly, safer to kiss.”

You don’t see the way JJ and Derek look at each other, nor do you notice when Penelope whispered, “Oh my God, there’s two of them.”

“Your code name, it’s for the Athena, right? The Greek goddess of wisdom, warfare, and handicraft?” Dr. Reid asks you, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Yeah. I love greek mythology.”

He gives you a smile, “I do, as well. I’m wondering about the eleven though. Does it mean anything?”

You tsk’d through your teeth, “The angel number 1111’s often seen as a spiritual wake-up call and awakening. I thought it was fitting, and I was 15 when I chose the name, okay? Excuse little old me.”

“That’s cool,” Dr. Reid admits. If he remembers your file right, you were barely 17 when you became a trademark and known name in underground hacking circles. He can’t properly meet your eyes, struck in awe. Athena. It’s perfect for you.

“Y/N formally starts her job with us in three days,” Hotch informs the team, “Be kind.”

With a final word, Gideon and Hotch start to return to their offices.

Derek straightens from his position on the office chair. “I am very kind!”

“He didn’t say anything about you,” Penelope teases.

“Ooh, that says a lot, Morgan. It says so much,” JJ teases back.

You smile at them, your new co-workers, taking the seat JJ was gesturing at for you. The three continue bickering, you start to tune them out as you make eye contact with Dr. Reid. The apple of his cheeks blush red, and you can’t stop the grin on your lips from getting wider. He’s downright enchanting.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #tech analyst!reader

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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

Text

lock and key | s.r.

in which an act of violence - and subsequent serious injury - brings the truth to the surface and initiates a change

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: abduction, car accident, knife, stabbing, stabbing with knife, greek mythology, jareau!reader, rewrite of 8x12 "zugzwang" (just because maeve isn't here doesn't mean i'm letting spencer get by trauma-free), the girls who get it, get it, secret relationship, hospitals, not proofread, yes the zugzwang thing gets dropped but that's because it was never the kidnapper it was always the replicator, did i miss something probably but i can't see straight rn word count: 4.86k a/n: i rewrote this entire fic because i decided i didn't like it two hours before it was supposed to go up. and now here we are. almost 5k words later. it's 2:30 a.m. going back to my jareau!reader roots and rewriting an entire episode.

He frowned at the text that you’d just sent him. Just one word, a chess term. Spencer wasn’t entirely sure you knew what it meant, more so, he wasn’t sure why you’d text it to him at seven-thirty in the morning.

He’d expected you to beat him to the office this morning, knowing you left his apartment before the sun had the chance to rise so you could get a fresh change of clothes and repack your go bag. Your apartment was closer to Quantico, so it wasn’t presumptuous of him to assume you would make it there first.

Spencer stood corrected when he walked in, finding your desk completely devoid of your active presence. He looked around for you briefly, knowing you sometimes liked to catch up on sleep in JJ’s old liaison office when you were the first to arrive in the morning, but all he found was your sister, a scowl on her face while she spoke with Hotch in his office.

The two of them noticed him lurking, Hotch opening the door and nodding at him in greeting, “Let’s meet in the roundtable room, Garcia’s waiting for us.”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked, following them around the walkway to the briefing room, only receiving a shake of the head from JJ in response.

Penelope looked disturbed in a way that Spencer hadn’t seen her in years. That much made sense to him, the only reason Hotch would start a briefing before the rest of the team got here was if there was a case that matched the level of urgency. “This morning the FBI system was tripped because Y/N’s location was glitching. It flashed from Los Angeles to Moscow to Cancun until finally settling on an unmarked location somewhere in this general area.”

Spencer frowned, looking at the map that was being displayed on the screen in front of him, “That’s nearly eight hundred miles of ground to cover.”

Sighing, Garcia nodded, “Because of whatever the UnSub did to hack into the locator in her phone, we can’t get an accurate location. I’m working on refining it, but that could take hours.”

A pit settled in Spencer’s chest as he looked over at JJ, a dark, hollow look on her face as she stared at her phone. He couldn’t commiserate with her—nobody knew the two of you were even dating. “JJ,” Hotch spoke up, “You were the last person to see her before you left yesterday, did she say anything about going to meet someone or do anything?”

JJ blinked in confusion, “No, she didn’t tell me about any plans or…” Her voice trailed off, “I think she was seeing someone knew. She’s been acting different, being cagey about plans.”

Blake and Rossi walked into the bullpen, their arrival catching Hotch’s attention as he stepped out of the roundtable room to speak with them. Spencer followed, “Hotch.”

“I know, Reid,” he said, holding his hand up in a waiting gesture. Of course, he did, because in your tirade to hide your relationship from the general public, you had insisted on telling Hotch, wanting to get the HR paperwork out of the way.

Spencer sighed, the pit in his chest growing exponentially as he turned back into the roundtable room, slipping his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Garcia, “I got a text this morning from Y/N,” he explained, his eyes following his teammates as they filtered into the room. “It came in after her phone’s location was hacked.”

Shaking her head, JJ looked over at Spencer, “Why would she text you first thing in the morning?”

He shrugged in response, “I’m not entirely sure,” he half-lied. “I do know what the word used in the message means. Zugzwang. It’s the term used in chess when a player realizes they’ll inevitably be checkmated.”

“When did the two of them break up?” Hotch asked, looking over at JJ for the answer to his question.

They were headed to speak with your ex-boyfriend, there was nothing they had found that would implicate him in your disappearance, but it was the best chance they had at a lead. Spencer bit his tongue to stop himself from revealing the answer.

JJ hummed, “A while ago, a year maybe? She didn’t really talk about it, one day, she just stopped bringing him up.”

Sixteen months, nearly to the date, it was a few days past at that point since the night you’d called Spencer in tears, needing him to pick you up from the same house that the SUV was pulling up to now. The two of you had been together for nearly a year, on and off again, before he finally snapped.

Some of the things he said to you were things that you’d never repeated, even to Spencer. Pulling into the driveway made him feel sick to his stomach as he recalled the way you cried in his apartment that night.

“Reid?” JJ’s voice broke through his reminiscence, she had already gotten out of the car, standing outside and waiting for Spencer to step out before the three of them approached the porch.

He reached into his pocket for his credentials, staying at the back of the pack while Hotch knocked on the door before pulling his badge out. Your ex-boyfriend opened the door, “Hello?” He was confused, rightfully so—it wasn’t every day that a group of FBI agents showed up at your front door. He eyed Hotch and JJ before he met Spencer’s eyes. Garrett’s eyes narrowed, “You.”

Hotch’s head snapped to the side, glaring at Spencer for a moment before facing forward, “Garrett Graves?” The Unit Chief’s voice was commanding, staring at your ex with a preconceived notion that your relationship had fallen apart because of him. He was the leader of the team, and he took any attack against the members of his team personally.

“Yes?” He said, obviously bewildered at the sight of the agents on his porch, “Where’s Y/N?”

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, JJ looked up at Garrett, “That’s what we’d like to ask you.”

Spencer had to give him credit, Garrett looked absolutely stunned at your sister’s revelation, but nothing that Spencer knew about him led him to believe he’d act innocent if he was truly guilty. He had the personality type that would confess to the abduction but lead the BAU on a wild goose chase from an interrogation room.

No, the person who had you didn’t want to be caught, and he didn’t want the team to find you. This interview would be a waste of his time, there was absolutely no information about you that Garrett could provide. Spencer knew every important, esoteric detail about you—your ex-boyfriend wouldn’t have anything useful for him.

Garrett peered back at Spencer, “I’m sure anything you want to know, he can tell you,” he said, bitterness altering his tone.

Hotch looked over his shoulder to Spencer, “Why don’t you sit this one out?”

Ignoring the fact that he had just been told to kick rocks, Spencer retreated to the SUV, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the passenger door while JJ and Hotch were invited inside the house. He hoped you weren’t somewhere outside, the temperatures dropped to below freezing at night this time of year, and he didn’t remember you wearing a jacket when you left his apartment this morning.

Finally alone—away from your sister, at least—Spencer had a moment to process the reality of his situation. You were missing, likely abducted as a result of your job, and he didn’t even have an exact time to go off. His chest felt tight in a way it hadn’t in years, the sheer joy of knowing he had you in his life felt like it was fading away because he didn’t have you. He had no idea where you were, and for a brief moment, he considered the fact that the loss of you might kill him too.

You were the only one who knew how to bring him back down to earth anymore. Snapping him back to reality whenever he started to spiral.

This time, the sound of his phone ringing pulled him out of his Charybdis of fear, “Hello,” he answered the phone, holding the device to his ear as he pretended the last five minutes of thought had never happened.

“Hey, kid,” Derek greeted over the phone, an unavoidable solemn note in his voice. “Garcia managed to track down Y/N’s car, it’s down on a side street, it looks like she was avoiding the highway.”

Spencer looked down at his shoes, “The exit that she needs to take to get to her apartment closes for construction at night.” The explanation flew from his mouth before he could remember that he wasn’t supposed to know that, but his brain was moving at an altered pace right now, unable to think past anything other than finding you.

The other line was silent for a moment, “Right,” Derek said doubtfully. “It looks like someone rear-ended her,” he noted, the sound of cars rushing by cluing Spencer into the traffic.

“That time of night on that road it would’ve needed to be on purpose, there’s no reason to be following someone that closely on an empty street,” Spencer processed the information, pulling up a map in his head of the area where your car was. “So, it was a bump and grab,” Spencer thought aloud, it wasn’t a particularly sophisticated crime, but with all of the other evidence, he hadn’t expected it to be.

Morgan reaffirmed his suspicions, “I’m surprised she wasn’t more on edge that early in the morning. What do you think she was doing all the way out here anyway?”

His stomach churned; you had been leaving his apartment. It was his fault you had been out there at that time. “It was early, her inhibitions were down, she was probably tired,” he rambled off. “Besides, you heard JJ, she thinks she has a boyfriend,” he bit out.

“Uh huh,” Derek responded, “And what do you think about that?”

Leaning his head back, Spencer stared at the sky, “Did you find her phone? Was it in the car?”

There was no way Derek didn’t get why Spencer ignored his question, but he moved on anyway, “Yeah, that’s the other thing. There’s no sign of that text message.”

Another mystery to add to the plethora, Spencer closed his eyes and sighed, “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Kid,” Derek said, stopping Spencer from hanging up, “Why did the text go to you and not JJ? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

Spencer paused, staring at the backs of his eyelids, “I’m not sure.” His answer, at least, was mostly truthful. It would make sense for the message to have gone to JJ, but JJ wouldn’t have understood the meaning.

That meant the person who sent the message likely knew about you and Spencer’s relationship, and that did very little to comfort him.

Helpless was not a term that Spencer liked to use to describe himself, but as the orange glow of the sunset sept into the BAU, he was beginning to feel that way. You were still missing, and with every passing moment, Spencer knew that the statistics grew increasingly bleak.

Stepping away from his computer monitor, Spencer made his way to the bathroom, he didn’t need to use it, but the silent hum of the fan was better than the constant chattering in the bullpen. Everyone imaginable had been pulled in on this case, everyone wanting to pitch in to find a missing FBI agent, but not for the first time, Spencer wished everyone would just shut up.

Turning on the tap, he cupped his hands under the water and splashed his face, focusing the cold water on his eyes, hoping they could hone his focus. He tore a paper towel from the dispenser and pressed it into his face as the door swung open, the familiar tapping of boots sounded from behind him until they stopped.

“You know, from my count, it’s been about eight months,” Rossi said, meeting Spencer’s eyes in the mirror, his hands in his pockets as he raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

Sighing, Spencer turned off the water, “Nine,” he corrected, foregoing his usual habit of providing more precise time frame. He wasn’t surprised that Rossi had it figured out, he always did, but still, he asked, “How did you figure it out?”

Rossi shrugged, watching as Spencer moved to throw away the paper towel, “I am very good at my job.”

Spencer laughed, a mixture between a laugh and a scoff as he looked in the mirror just to find that he still looked like a disaster. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” he confessed, the first time he had let his desolation truly show to any member of the team.

“You’re gonna go back out there, and we are gonna do what we do best,” Rossi insisted, “We help the people who need us.”

Nodding, Spencer took a deep breath before heading back out to the bullpen, following Penelope through the glass doors as the technical analyst made her way over to JJ. It shouldn’t bother him that everyone went to JJ first, but it did, even though no one knew any better. “Does the last name Delphino mean anything to you?”

JJ frowned in response, “No, why—should it?”

His lips parted, not worrying about holding himself back, “Paul Delphino is the name of Y/N’s next-door neighbor.”

Garcia made a dinging noise, quickly moving on to continue her explanation, “Paul Delphino did not show up for work this morning. Why is this significant? His family, the Delphinos, owns a lot of commercial property in the DMV and a suspicious 911 call just came in from one of those properties stating that there’s a light on in a building that is slated for demolition tomorrow. The caller said they heard screaming coming from the building.”

Hotch looked around at the team, “Morgan contact SWAT. JJ, Morgan, you’re with me, Blake, Reid, with Rossi. Garcia, send the address to our phones.” Everyone was already moving as he distributed orders, heading to the elevator, and getting one step closer to you.

He’s been watching you for months. From the exact moment he moved into the apartment next to yours, Paul declared himself your soulmate. You recognized his name when you first met, and it came up in one of your late-night Wikipedia binges. Paul Delphino was a member of a disturbingly wealthy family, up until his parents disowned him for suspicious cash transactions.

Your head hurt like hell, drips of blood were encrusted along your hairline, and you were fairly convinced that you were dying. Your vision blurred around the edges when you followed the noise of your captor around the room with your eyes, your body slightly suspended in the air by your arms, standing on your tiptoes to prevent too much strain on your shoulders.

Seeking comfort in your memory, you remembered this morning, kissing your sleepy boyfriend as he tiredly asked you to stay, but you needed to go back to your own apartment. You told him you loved him, which was the truth, but you needed a morning with your things.

If needing a morning with your things led to an untimely demise, then at least the last thing you told Spencer was that you loved him.

Long, unending scratches ran down your arms and legs, they weren’t deep enough to scar, but as they scabbed over, they began to itch. Cuts and scrapes weren’t going to kill you, but the knife in your abdomen likely would.

You tried to keep yourself as still as possible, your personal experience with stab wounds was lackluster, but you knew that the blade could be preventing any further bleeding. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful that Paul couldn’t get it up, seeing as he elected to stab you for a sexual release.

The black of your t-shirt concealed any blood on your torso, so you weren’t sure exactly how much blood you’d lost, but judging by the way the world was losing its color, things weren’t looking good for you.

You breathed out slowly through your nose, watching Paul pace back and forth in front of you, faint lantern light being the only thing illuminating whatever hellscape you were in. “Paul,” you said, your voice nearly a gasp, “I need help.”

At this point, you had no idea what your plan was, seriously considering asking him to let you heal so that he could come back and stab you again in a few weeks. What else did you have to offer him? He scoffed in response, continuing his pacing until his steps faltered and he stalked over to you, causing you to flinch. “Did you call them?”

You groaned in pain, “Who the fuck could I have called?” You yelped like a wounded animal when he pulled the knife from your stomach.

He pointed the knife at your face, the metallic tang of your own blood filling your nostrils as you fought off a wave of nausea. “Why would you call the FBI on me?”

Tears flooded your eyes at his words. My sister’s here, you thought to yourself. Spencer’s here. “I didn’t,” you choked out, trying to remember how to breathe while you were dying.

Paul’s head snapped to look behind him, the rustling of SWAT and agents scaring him enough that he dropped the knife to the floor before taking off, leaving you alone in the room for someone to find.

Grunting, you tried to free your hands on your own, but you no longer had the physical strength to do anything except for hang. Tipping your head back in an attempt to keep your airway open, you called out, “JJ!”

You never thought the sight of your sister’s blonde ponytail would make tears run down your face, but as soon as she made her way into the room, saltwater left marks on your blood-stained face. “He went that way,” you jutted your head to the side, watching as the people in front of you stayed true to themselves. JJ ran off to chase Paul, and Spencer holstered his weapon to help you down.

“Hey,” he whispered, holding you while a SWAT member used a knife to undo your restraints, and Spencer caught you before your legs had a chance to give out.

You looked around the room, Morgan had gone with JJ to play cat and mouse, but Blake stayed behind with Spencer while they tried to get you sorted out. Everyone else would panic, announcing to the rest of the room that you were seemingly very slowly bleeding out would send the space into a frenzy, so you didn’t.

Spencer draped an FBI jacket over your shoulders, one of the spares that was kept in the SUVs.

“I need help,” you mumbled, your lips barely parting as you tried to save your strength to walk to an ambulance. “Spence,” you gasped, using your own hand to apply pressure to the wound.

He nodded, instinctively pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I know.” His voice was tight, and you hated yourself for doing this to him.

Groaning, you shook your head, “I’m bleeding,” you murmured, watching as realization set into his features, wavering between horror and determination, Spencer nodded at you.

“Reid?” Blake called after the two of you, now noticing the drops of blood that were where you were standing, now being tracked through the building by your shuffling footsteps.

Spencer didn’t answer her, his attention was entirely on you as he kept you upright, bringing you closer and closer to the flashing lights of the ambulance. The cold of the night burned your nose as the fresh air gave you a new sense of determination, matching Spencer’s. “I’m sorry,” you told him, but you weren’t sure he could even hear you as you approached the ambulance.

“You need to get her to a hospital,” Spencer insisted once the EMTs were in earshot, his chest heaving as your feet dragged more and more with every step. “Please,” he begged them, helping you onto a stretcher before hauling himself into the rig, a one-track mind thinking of nothing else other than getting you the help that you need.

Fifty-fifty were the odds that you gave yourself once you found a firm enough grasp on consciousness. There was a fifty percent chance you were going to open your eyes and be met with the harsh fluorescence of a hospital. There was a fifty percent chance that bastard Minos was going to send you straight to the Fields of Punishment.

You changed your bets once the scent of antiseptic burned your nostrils, you flinched at the smell, earning some soft shushing from the person on the other side of your eyelids. Sighing, you open your eyes just a sliver, “Hey, J,” you greeted her, your voice raspy from lack of use and probably a breathing tube.

Hospitals made your stomach churn, hunger and blood loss certainly contributed to the feeling as you tried to reorient yourself with the land of the living. “Hi, Ducky,” she whispered, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it reassuringly, “You’re okay.”

Humming, you closed your eyes again, being awake in stages, “Haven’t heard that one in a while,” you murmured, smiling softly. “I feel like shit,” you groaned, trying to shift in the bed just to be met with a shooting pain in your abdomen. Pieces of the puzzle started coming back to you.

“The doctors said you were really lucky, the knife didn’t hit any organs or blood vessels,” he told you, giving you an update on your condition. Waking up in hospitals always gave you an odd feeling, being surrounded by a group of people who knew more about how you were doing than you did.

Frowning, you let your eyes flutter open, “Yeah, lucky,” you breathed. “That’s exactly how I feel right now.”

JJ smoothed some of your hair away from your forehead, “He’s dead, Ducky.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Did you shoot him?”

She shrugged slyly, “I let Morgan take the shot.”

That was a lie you let her get away with. If JJ had been the one to shoot Paul, there likely would’ve been an investigation opened because of your familial tie—Strauss would’ve had her hands all over that one. This way, there was no question about ethics. “Thank you,” you whispered to her, “I’m…” your voice trailed off as you noticed someone else in the corner of the room.

Following your gaze, JJ looked confused, “He hasn’t moved all night.” Spencer was almost comedically folded in a hospital chair, his wrist bent beneath his chin as he slept. “He rode with you to the hospital, and I’m not sure—”

“I’m in love with him,” you cut her off mid-sentence. You watched your sister’s confusion morph into shock as she looked from you to Spencer and back again. “Spencer and I have been dating for the last nine months, and we haven’t told anyone. It wasn’t because we wanted to keep anyone in the dark or because we didn’t want you to know, we just liked having something that was ours.”

Surprise was clear on her face while she searched her mind for clues into what you were telling her. You could tell she was thinking, you recognized her thinking face as well as you would if you were looking in a mirror. “You and Spencer?”

You nodded stiffly, moving your upper lip to adjust your nasal cannula, “Yeah. Me and Spencer.”

“So, when I tried to pin the two of you together last fall… you were already together?” She asked, recalling a night spent as a team at O’Keefe’s.

Giving her a lopsided smile, you held your hands out in mock surrender, “Yeah,” you echoed.

She just continued staring at you up until her phone rang, she apologized to you before picking it up, greeting Will over the phone, and stepping out into the hallway.

You tilted your head to the side, getting a better look at Spencer sleeping in the chair, “Spence,” you called out to him, remembering that you’re in a hospital and raising your voice is frowned upon, even as a patient. “Spencer,” you crooned, trying to wake him up without startling him.

He didn’t so much as budge, you tried again, but when he didn’t stir, you had to turn to violence.

With an aching arm, you grabbed a pen from the table attached to your hospital bed and flung it at him, gasping when the pen hit him in the head. His eyes opened, looking at you groggily as he stretched out his wrist.

“Hey,” he said, instantly over his irritation of being pelted with a BIC pen, “You’re up.” Spencer looked around the room noting no sign of your sister before he took her seat at your bedside, “You look good.”

You laughed slightly, the movement felt good spiritually, but physically it pulled at your stitches. “I look like shit,” you corrected him, you didn’t even need a mirror to know that.

Spencer smiled at you fondly, fingers carefully dancing along your hairline. His touch was tentative like he was afraid a single touch would break you, “You’ve certainly looked better,” he admitted.

The grin that bloomed on your face felt foreign after a day of pain, but it relieved you to stretch those muscles. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, noticing the way his hand faltered in its movements.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he reminded you, not even sure which it he was referring to, he simply wanted to know you weren’t to blame for any of it.

You hummed, adjusting yourself on your pillows, “But I took advantage of you.”

In response, Spencer reached out a hand, placing the back of it on your forehead, checking for a fever as if you weren’t hooked up to a vital monitor.

Swatting his hand away, you looked at him solemnly, “No, I took advantage of your rational minds when I asked you for help outside of the warehouse. I made the decision to ask you because I knew you would help me first and panic second.”

“Honey,” Spencer said, gingerly moving strands of hair off of your forehead, “You are severely underestimating my abilities if you think I wasn’t panicking while I was helping you.”

You pressed your lips together thoughtfully, looking at him, “I wanna go home,” you murmured, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He looked at you sadly, “Tomorrow, probably. I’ll bring you home and unpack the first load of your things in my place. You can sit on the couch and tell me where everything goes.”

“Spencer,” you said, gentle chide in your tone.

Your boyfriend hummed, “You didn’t seriously think I’d let you keep living in that apartment, did you?”

Honestly, you hadn’t had the time for the thought to cross your mind, but Spencer had always thought you lived in a bad part of town. He was right, of course, but this was a lot to digest all at once. “You don’t have to; I can just find a new apartment.”

He leaned over the bed, “It’s too late. I already asked Penelope to come over this weekend and help me go through my closet and dresser.”

“Did you tell her?” You asked him, reaching a hand up and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

Spencer shook his head, “No, but I suppose we’ll have to.”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you raised your eyebrows, “Well, I told JJ.” You informed him of the fact that you’d abrogated the seal of silence on your relationship.

“Rossi knows,” he told you like it should’ve been news to you.

You shrugged, “He figured it out months ago. I thought you knew that.”

Your boyfriend frowned, “How would I have known that?”

“He profiled us, it’s like reverse profiling,” you explained.

Spencer chuckled softly, “You’re right, my mistake.” His brown eyes shimmered as he took your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

He never took his eyes off of you, watching you like a hawk at every moment—you weren’t even sure he was blinking properly. “What’s still bothering you?”

Shaking his head, he dismissed your question immediately. You felt safe with him, when your sister returned to the doorway, she faltered at the sight in front of her. Spencer was resting his head on your hospital bed, softly chatting to you about sea otters while your eyes fluttered shut.

Before you fell asleep, she raised her eyebrows and held up a thumbs up, asking if you were okay.

A brief nod in response was all you needed, smiling at her softly while she went back to her phone call.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #margotober #angstober #jareau!reader

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aperrywilliams · 4 months ago

Text

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

----------

From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

---------

Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

---------

It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

---------------

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