On the plane to Chicago, the team has been bouncing ideas off of each other for the past hour. There have been three murders so far. One man and two women. While discussing the MO, you stumbled upon the problem that no one, not even the coroner, understands: how the wounds have been inflicted. They are round stab wounds that bend upwards and go all the way through the body.
It's still an hour until you land in Chicago. JJ pleads for a coffee break, and everyone agrees. Since you and Emily are closest to the coffee machine, both of you get up to make a cup for everyone.
For a moment you stand in silence, until you ask: "Do you think Hotch will eventually warm up to me?"
Emily turns to look at your face: "Don't take it personally, I think he just misses Rossi."
Rossi took a year off to work on another book project. He recommended you for the job. Maybe that's what annoys Hotch – he would rather have chosen himself. Even though you are pretty sure that you would have gotten the job anyways. No one that is not already on the team is as qualified as you are.
"If you say so." You shrug your shoulders at Emily's response.
With your hands full of mugs, you return to the sitting area of the jet. Morgan and Hotch sit on the sofa, JJ, Reid, Emily, and you have been sitting at the table.
When Emily hands JJ her cup, she gets up and they go sit together on the other sofa at the end of the jet. While walking by, Emily hands Morgan his coffee. He reacts with a simple: "Thank you, beautiful."
You put the two mugs for yourself and Reid on the table. Then you turn to Hotch to give him his coffee. You hesitate a little. But Hotch is already looking at you expectantly since he is the only one without a coffee.
"There you go." Your hands touch for a moment and out of an impulse you wink at him. Hotch blinks in surprise, but quickly returns his gaze to the files in his lap. Did you just fluster Hotch?
You turn back and sit in the place next to Reid. He is staring out the window.
"Reid?" He does not react.
You touch his shoulder: "Hey, Spence."
His head whips around: "Yeah?"
"What are you thinking about?" Curiosity is evident in your voice.
"Oh, just statistics about violent crimes in Chicago." He looks at his hands and takes a sip of his coffee.
"Would you mind sharing?" You seem to be the only one on the team to actually enjoy it when Spencer rambles.
His eyes widen in surprise: "You want to know?"
You smile at him: "Of course Spencer. Unlike others" you shoot a look at Morgan, who just grins at you, "I appreciate your knowledge."
Reid gives you a genuine smile, not the one with his lips tightened. You put your left elbow on the table and turn your attention fully towards Reid. He starts to ramble off facts about crime rates. At some points you chime in with your knowledge about serial killers that have been active in Chicago in the past, like H.H. Holmes. Reid smiles at your participation, he sees that you really are listening to him.
When you raise your hand to touch the side of Spencer's head, you suddenly feel a stare in your back when. He has a new hairstyle, and his hair is buzzed quite short there.
"I really like it." You tell him.
His cheeks get a little red.
"I used to have a similar haircut."
"No way!" He exclaims.
"Photos!" Morgan calls behind you.
When you turn around, your feeling about the stare in your back is proven right. Hotch was indeed staring at you. You raise an eyebrow without making actual eye contact and he immediately lowers his gaze again. You notice that he has been looking at the same page for the last fifteen minutes. The corners of your mouth twitch and you have to suppress a grin.
"I tell you what, Morgan, whoever figures out what the murder weapon is, gets to see the photos."
He extends his hands towards you: "Deal."
You shake his hand and turn back to Reid.
The rest of the flight is spent mostly in silence.
But the weight on your shoulders about Hotch not liking you, has been lifted. At least a little.
ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ
In the evening, when you arrive at the hotel, Hotch declares that there are four rooms available. Morgan groans: "Not again."
Hotch has the key cards in his hands.
You take two of them: "Emily and JJ probably don't mind sharing. And I can bunk with Spencer. You two have a room for yourselves. Alright?"
"Fine by me!" Morgan exclaims and takes a card from Hotch. Emily and JJ grin at you when you hand them theirs. Hotch looks a little lost. He looks down at his card. Did he expect another outcome?
"Alright." He finally repeats your words.
You all pile into the elevator. You decide to test your theory and stand close to Hotch. While turning around to face the door, your shoulders touch. You can see his arm twitch. Interesting, you think to yourself.
Spencer and you decide to go over the file one more time.
"I really don't understand the wounds." Spencer sounds annoyed.
"We need to figure it out. It tells us a lot about the profile."
Spencer falls back into the bed: "I knooowww."
You stare at the pictures of the wounds. It reminds you of something you already have seen. But you cannot put your finger on it.
"We should sleep."
"Yeah, alright." Spencer gives in.
You close the files that are spread all over the table. There is only one bed. At least it has two mattresses, so it should not be too awkward.
You are still aware of Spencer's germaphobia: "Is it alright with you, if we sleep in the same bed?"
Spencer nods: "You are probably cleaner than the bedsheets, so I should be fine."
"Wow."
His face turns red: "That's not what I meant. I-…"
"It's alright." You laugh.
After staring at bloody corpses for the last hours, you need something to calm down.
"Want a tea?"
"Sure." Spencer smiles.
"Be right back." You take the keycard and step outside.
In the lobby, you find a station for tea and coffee. While you wait for the water to boil, your eyes wander around. You double take at a familiar back in the seating area.
Hotch is sitting in casual clothes, hunched over the case files. You exhale. He really needs to take better care of himself.
You make one tea for him as well. You leave the teas for yourself and Spencer at the station and walk over to Hotch. He only notices you when you take the seat next to him.
To your surprise, he uses your first name as he wishes you a good evening.
You hand him the tea: "It's late, Hotch."
"You're up as well." He retorts.
You roll your eyes but smile at him. This is the first time you two are speaking with each other outside an office setting.
"Come on." You nod in the direction of the elevator.
You can see in his eyes that he wants to object, but he nevertheless collects everything and gets up. He, again, surprises you. The files in one hand and his tea in the other he follows you. You take the tea for yourself and Spencer and walk towards the elevator. The doors close. For a moment its completely quiet.
"How did you know how I like my coffee?" Hotch suddenly blurts out.
"What?" You turn to him.
"How did you know that I take my coffee with caramel?"
You smile, that's how you made his coffee earlier on the jet.
The doors open and you step out.
"Good night, Aaron." You walk away without answering his question.
ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ
At an ungodly hour, the team meets at the police station. Everyone looks tired, but at least better than yesterday.
"The victims have been reported missing two days before the bodies were found. The unsub seems to abduct them at some time on Friday and drop the body on Sunday." Hotch recaps.
"There is no clear geographical profile." Reid adds. "The first victim, the man, was from Chicago. The second victim is from St. Louis and the latest from Milwaukee. Other than that is somewhat in the vicinity of Chicago, there seems to be no clear pattern."
You look at you watch: "It's Thursday afternoon, there probably will be another abduction tomorrow."
"Wait a second." Emily was looking at the interviews with the families.
"What is it?" Hotch asks.
"It is possible that the abductions have taken place even earlier. The families of the victims were all out of town until Friday, when they realized that their son or daughter is missing." Emily explains.
"Shit." You mutter.
On cue a detective enters the room five minutes later: "There has been another abduction."
Hotch stands up: "JJ, Emily, Morgan, go talk to the family. The rest of us will stay back and talk to Garcia. We have to find a connection between the victims."
Before he even finishes his sentence, you take the piece of paper from the detective that has the name of the abductee on it. While the others grab their stuff and leave, you dial Garcia's number.
She sends you all the details she can find, and Hotch and Reid start to look into possible connections. You, on the other hand, go over the stab wounds one more time.
There is something familiar about them and it drives you crazy. You take a white piece of paper and draw the holes that were in the bodies onto them. They are all fairly at the same places, but do not align perfectly. The placement does not seem to be that important then. Maybe only the weapon was the same? But what weapon looks like that?
"Reid?"
"Hmh?"
"Were the victims dead before the wounds were inflicted?"
He looks at you: "Not necessarily, but it's possible. They were drained of their blood, so we do not know."
You look back at the paper with the holes on them.
"Holy Shit!" You suddenly shout.
Hotch and Reid jump in their chairs.
"What?" Hotch asks.
"I finally know where I've seen these wounds before!"
"You have seen them before?" Reid is stunned.
Without replying you take out your phone and scroll through your contacts. You hope that the number is still up to date. After a few rings, a male voice answers: "Hello?"
"Will?" You ask.
"Oh, hey! What's going on?"
"I am currently in Chicago working a case. The wounds remind me of how Hobbs used to hang his victims." Garret Jacob Hobbs mounted his victims on antlers.
Will exhales loudly.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up, but would you mind looking at the case file?"
After a moment of silence, he answers: "Alright. Send them over."
"Thank you! I owe you a bucket of bait."
"Don't thank me yet." His tone is serious, but you can hear him smile.
"Alright, talk to you later."
Hotch and Reid stare at you with their mouths open.
"Will?" Reid asks.
Hotch's eyes dart between you and the phone in your hand: "Will? Will Graham?"
"You know Will Graham?" Reid stares at you just like Hotch.
You wink at them: "You should have read my first PhD paper."
Reid looks at his hands: "I wanted to, but I forgot."
"Oh." Hotch mumbles. "You worked with him on it, right?"
Will was THE profiler of the BAU in the 90s. He worked the Hannibal Lecter case. And after working with you on your first PhD, became a friend of yours. Even with his secluded lifestyle you manage to see him once or twice a year.
You ask Garcia to send the file to Graham, who is just as surprised as the others.
ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ
With Wills help you manage to solve the case and even find the abductee before they are killed. Back on the jet everyone is relieved and talkative. JJ and Emily ask you questions about Graham. Reid finally reads your PhD paper and Morgan is disappointed that no one gets to see the photos of your buzzcut since it was you who found out how the wounds were inflicted.
Only Hotch is quiet.
You side eye him a few times, but he stubbornly stares at the report he is filling out. Not once did he say well done or something of that manner. It annoyed you. You almost single handedly solved the case and not once did he validate your effort.
You decide to talk to him about it later.
Back in Quantico JJ and Emily disappear before Morgan can even ask about having a drink. You tell him to ask Garcia and he does. Hotch immediately goes back into his cave above the bullpen. Reid wants to go home. Since you usually give him a lift, he has no car on the lot.
You hand him your keys: "Go on."
"Really?" He seems surprised that you trust him with your car.
"Sure. I'll take the train."
"Okay." He collects his stuff. "Pick you up in the morning?"
"See you then, Reid." You smile at him.
After he leaves you climb the stairs to knock on Hotch's door.
"Come in." You hear his voice.
You really like his voice. Its dark and soothing and you wonder how he would sound moaning.
You notice the surprise on his face when you walk in before he puts his poker face back on.
"Can we talk?" You ask straightaway.
"I need to finish the report." He barely makes eye contact.
"Alright. I'll wait." You sit down on the sofa opposite of his desk. His mouth open and closes a few times, before he looks back onto the papers on his desk.
You can tell that he can barely focus with you in the room. He takes longer than usual to write and has to correct a few words now and then. When he reads over the report, he nervously clicks the pen. You take that as your cue to sit down on the chair in front of him.
When he closes the file and carefully puts it in its place, you ask: "Do you have a problem with me?"
He makes a sound as if he just choked on something.
"Is that a yes?" You push him.
"What? No!" He replies a little too loud.
You grin and look at him until he meets your gaze. Your eyes pierce into him. His cheeks get a little red and you can hear how his breathing fastens.
"Would it be easier for you to talk about while having a drink?"
Man, you are bold today.
He seems to weigh his options, even though you see the answer in his eyes already.
"I'd like that"
"Great." You stand up.
He grabs his jacket and follows you. You get your long woolen coat and your leather bag. The walk to the parking lot is quiet, but you kind of enjoy the tension.
"Where should we go?" Hotch asks in the parking lot.
"I know a place. Mind if I drive?"
"Oh boy." He mutters and hands you the keys to his car.
You smile at him reassuringly and get in the driver seat.
Of course, he has a CD player in his car instead of a Bluetooth radio. You turn it on and whip your head towards him: "Radiohead?"
He smiles: "I like them."
"At least one thing we can agree on."
You turn the volume up to a point where it's still possible to talk.
"I once got a tattoo simply because the shop was playing Radiohead." You tell him.
He turns in his seat to look at you while you kept your eyes on the street.
"Where?"
"Where the tattoo is or where the shop was?" You grin.
Hotch clears his throat: "Well, now that you brought it up: Both."
You pull into the parking lot of your favorite pub. It has a long bar in the middle and a lot of booths on either side.
"I will tell you inside." You get out of the car and wait for Hotch to catch up to you. Without really thinking about it, you grab his hand and guide him to the entrance since it is a bit hidden. At first, he tenses, but then he even intertwines his fingers with yours.
The bar has a double doored entrance. You knock on the first door, and they let you in, so you can give them your coats. Then they let you into the actual pub.
The DJ at the other end of the bar is playing some nice vinyl triphop and the lights are blue and green, sprinkled across the ceiling. Your favorite bartender is working tonight and greets you with a quick hug over the counter.
"Can you make us two caramel shots and two Singapore Sling?"
"Coming right up."
Hotch already chose a booth at the end of the pub, and you take a seat on the other side of the table. You rub your hand together, so that the rings you wear make a clicking sound.
"When was the last time you went out?" You ask Hotch, who looks a little out of place in his suit. Not that you do not like the suit…
"I can't remember." He admits.
"Well, I'm honored that you got here with me then."
"So, the tattoo…" He circles back.
"You really want to know that, huh?"
He nods his head.
"I got it in England. It's on my left hipbone."
"What is it?" He leans towards you, against the table.
"That was not part of the question." You smile.
Your drinks arrive and you pick yours up to toast. He lightly taps his class against yours.
After that you push one of the shots towards him.
He raises an eyebrow: "Don't you think I'm a little old for shots?"
"No. Drink." You tell him.
He cannot help himself but smile. One of his genuine smiles that light up a room.
You both down the shots and he asks: "Okay, seriously. How do you know what I like to drink?"
You laugh: "You remember when we met outside the Starbucks a few weeks ago? I heard what you ordered. It was something with a lot of caramel."
"And you remembered that?" His eyes show his surprise.
"Sure." You wink at him again.
"You need to stop that." He tells you with flushed cheeks.
"Stop what?" You ask innocently.
He looks into his drink: "Flirting with me."
"Oh. I thought you liked it."
He clears his throat: "Yeah, well, I like it a little too much."
You furrow your eyebrows: "I don't see how that's a problem."
Aaron's head shoots up and he stares at you.
"Do you think I flirt with you just to mess with you?" You ask him sincerely.
"I don't know." He lets out a deep breath.
"Hm." You tilt your head: "Would you like me to convince you that I am not messing with you?"
He takes some time to muster up the courage.
Then he tells you: "Yes."
You smile: "In the bathroom or at my place?"
Hotch chokes on his drink and laughs embarrassed: "At your place."
You get up immediately and put money on the table for your drinks. Hotch looks a little overwhelmed, so you offer him your hand. He takes it.
ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ
You arrive at your place a few minutes later. It's a nice apartment in a tall building. You switch on the warm light next to the sofa. After you put your shoes and coat away, you offer Aaron to take his. He hands it to you as well as his suit jacket. You point towards the sofa and go to the kitchen to get some water.
When you come back Hotch has taken off his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. The view of his naked forearms alone makes you excited. You hand him a glass of water and sit down next to him.
"Are you okay, Aaron?"
His eyes dart around the room.
"Stop profiling me based on my apartment."
He laughs nervously: "Sorry. Yes, I'm okay."
You put your elbow up on the headrest and look at him. He slowly turns himself towards you, until the leg closest to you is completely on the sofa.
"I really like you. But I did not dare act on it, I apologize if that made me seem distant. I am still your boss, and I could not risk…"
"I like you too, Aaron." You once again take his hand. He looks down at it and smiles absentmindedly.
"Come here." You offer your embrace. He leans towards you, and you lay back on the couch, pulling him with you. You put your arms around him. His head rests on your chest.
You draw circles on his back. You were willing to go at his pace.
"How do you know?" He asks, muffled by the fabric of your sweater.
"How do I know what, darling?"
His head once again rises, and he props himself up on his elbows left and right of you.
"You seem to have figured out a lot about me."
"And you are not used to that?"
He shakes his head no.
"Well, you put up a pretty good front. But I was interested in you and when one pays attention, you can get a glimpse of what's behind that front." You let your hand wander through his hair. You wanted to do that for quite some time now.
Hotch leans a bit closer to your face: "Interested in me?"
"Oh, yes."
You finally close the gap and kiss him.
There is still a hint of cherry and gin on his lips. It drives you wild.
Your hands wander down his back. He deepens the kiss and grabs your face as if he were scared you would disappear.
When he leans his head back to take breath, you attack his neck and throat with kisses. Gently, you bite into his skin and suck on it. Then you blow on the wet spots. You can see how Aaron gets goosebumps on the back of his neck.
A small Oh is all he can utter. You push against his chest. He understands and gets up, so that you can sit on his lap. You kiss him again and start to open his shirt. His hands are on your hips, and he grinds you down into his crotch. You smile against his mouth.
"Needy, are we?" You tease.
He only answers with a groan. When you can finally push the dress shirt off his shoulders, he takes off the white shirt he wears underneath it without hesitation. You bow your head down and start to work on this chest. It's beautiful. A few hairs in the middle. Defined muscles without being overly hard and of course the scars in his abdomen.
Your hands on his shoulders, you kiss down from his throat to his nipples. First you lick the right one, while you pluck on the left, then you switch. You do that a few times while you can feel him harden against your core.
You bite into the flesh next to his nipple and he moans. Actually, fully moans. It's a beautiful sound. You want him to do it again. This time you bite his shoulder. He moans again. "Fuck." His head falls back into the couch.
You hum appreciative. Your right hand slowly wanders towards his crotch. Hotch scoots a little forward, so that you have easier access to his pants. You start to palm his erection.
When your other hand grabs his neck, his eyes shoot open, and he looks at you wide-eyed.
"Do you want me to choke you?"
He nods frantically, even though he looks like he just now realized that he likes that.
"Words, Aaron."
"Yes, please. Choke me." He whispers.
You kiss his lips and carefully apply pressure to the sides of his neck. You lean back, so that he has the option to object what you are doing. But all you see in his eyes is lust. He leans into you and finds you lips.
Again, you apply pressure to his neck. This time a little more. You feel his dick twitch. And you groan.
Just from doing this to him, you get all hot and bothered. You let go of him and stand up. He whimpers and looks at you confused.
"Let's go to the bedroom, hm?"
He gets up and kisses your neck while you slowly walk towards the bedroom. Since he is about half a food taller than you, he can effortlessly bow down to you. You stop in the doorframe and push him up against it, feverishly making out.
While at it, you use the pressure against the doorframe as leverage and grab his thighs. You push them upwards, until he loses his footing and only you hold him up.
"Holy shit." Hotch looks down at you, breathless.
You smirk: "Do you think I work out for shits and giggles?"
You press more kisses to his chest before you let him down.
He strides towards the bed and gets on it. When he turns around to look at you, you only wear your underwear and a tank top.
He inhales sharply and takes off his pants. You stop him when he also starts to remove his boxers.
Even though you can see the tent in them, you demand: "You have to deserve me touching your cock."
Aaron looks at you with puppy eyes, pupils blown wide: "Anything."
"Make me cum."
Instantly, he pushes you into the mattress and pulls down your panties. You squirm at the cold air hitting your cunt.
He shuffles between your legs and kisses the insides of your thighs.
"Stop teasing." Your voice is rough.
Aaron does as he is told and finds your clit. You moan and arch you back. He really goes at it and has you dripping wet in minutes. You reach for his arm and push it towards your core. He obliges and inserts two fingers into your pussy while diligently sucking on your clit. He curls them to stimulate you from the inside.
"Fuck, Aaron." You moan at the overwhelming sensation.
Just the picture of your boss between your legs, looking up at you with lust and eagerness lets an orgasm rise in you.
He hums against your pussy and sends shivers down your spine. You grab his hair and pull on it. He moans quietly. Then he inserts a third finger, and your eyes roll back. Your already heavy breathing gets quicker.
He picks up in pace and move faster in and out of you. Once more, he licks up and down your folds, before sucking on your clit again.
Your orgasm crashes down on you and your whole body tenses up. Aaron's movements slow down, his fingers pressed together by your spasming walls.
You need some time to come down from your high, which he uses to push your top upwards and litter your chest with kisses. He takes a look at your tattoo: "A tree?"
You smile, dazed: "Fake Plastic Trees?"
"Oh!" He laughs and lets his finger run over it.
Your hand finds his hair again and you pull him to your mouth.
You kiss him roughly and whisper in his ear: "Good boy."
He halts and he stares at you. You grab his chin and repeat: "Good boy."
"Fuck. Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?"
Your hand slithers into his boxers and you grab his rock-hard cock: "Kind of."
He finally gets to take his underwear off, and sighs relieved when his dick springs free. It's as big as you imagined in your wildest dreams. You sit back against the headboard and Aaron follows you. With one hand you grab his dick, with the other you press against his back until his knees are left and right of you. His cock is now at the same level as your mouth.
At first you only plump him with your hands. When your thumb rubs across the tip, he grabs the headboard with both hands. You press him closer to you face and take him into your mouth. You concentrate to not gag and glace up at his face. It's beautifully scrunched in pleasure and he looks down at you with wonder. Slowly, you begin to move your head. You can tell that he wants you to go faster, but he knows better than to jerk his hips forwards.
You stick out your tongue and run it up and down his cock. With one hand you massage his balls. He moans in response – even louder when you finally start to move faster.
You remove your hand from his balls and claw into his thighs.
"If you keep doing that I-" He moans.
You let go of him and push him off you, to your side. Willingly, he rolls onto his back. You take off your final piece of clothing and sit on his lap. He looks at you, his fingers twitching.
"Go ahead, you can touch me."
His hands fly up to your chest and he runs them up and down your skin. You lean down to him and kiss him, while lifting your hip until the tip of his cock rubs against your entrance. Aaron leans his forehead against yours and holds his breath expectantly. When you sink down on him, you both moan loudly. He fills you perfectly and you start and circle your hips. He holds your waist and manages to keep his eyes open to look at you. You hold the eye contact and move your hips a little faster.
"Are you spelling your name?" He asks between two moans.
You grin at him: "Yes I am."
"That's probably the hottest shit anyone has ever done to me." He admits.
You bend down and kiss him. "I really like it when you curse."
"Oh?" He smiles. "I can do it more."
"You should."
You start to bounce up and down on his dick and a long: "Fuuucckkk" escapes his lips.
While lifting yourself up and grinding back down you roll your hips. Thereby he hits your g-spot every time and his breathing hitches as you tighten around him.
You feel yourself tighten even more when your second orgasm approaches. By the way Aarons jaw clenches, you can tell that he is also close.
Your hands wander back towards his neck. Slowly, you start to apply more pressure while going your best to keep up a steady rhythm.
You sigh when Hotch's hips buck up and his grip on your waist tightens.
Your hands press down on the side of his neck so hard that you are sure he can no longer breath properly. You roll your hips one more time and let go of his neck. With a loud moan Aaron cums inside you. Eyes closely shut. Finger digging into your skin.
The view pushes you over the edge a second time. His orgasm is prolonged when you clench hard around him.
For a moment you cannot hear or see anything. Only Aaron's touch on you and the warmth in your core get registered by your brain.
Breathing heavily, you get off him and lie down. His hand finds yours while you both stare at the ceiling. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushes over the back of his hand.
Your sight clears up and you feel the wetness between your legs.
"Be right back." You whisper.
With a warm, wet towel, you return to the bed. You already wiped between your legs and went to the toilet. You put your panties and tank top back on, without bothering about the bra. Aaron is propped up on his elbows. Blanket over his legs.
You sit down next to him. Firstly, you wipe the sweat off his forehead. Then you carefully wipe the residue of cum and wetness off his crotch. After you're done, you throw the towel in the direction of the bathroom and pull the blanket up to your waist.
Aaron turns to his side and looks at you. You smile and push his hair out of his face. He kisses you with a sigh.
"Can we do that again, sometime?" He asks quietly.
"Which part?"
"All of it." He turns his head to look at you.
"I'd love to."