Liar by Meowser Hotchner

She should have been there in time, Kate reflected as she pulled the hotel room door open.

Hotch was on the other side, propping himself against the wall and coolly surveying her.

"You were late today," he said, his voice clipped.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. Everything went well, though. Krystal is behind bars."

So why are you waiting outside of my hotel room?

Hotch pushed himself off of the wall. "Krystal wasn't everything to this case," he said matter-of-factly. "I sent Reid and JJ down to the hospital with her last victim. Dave and Morgan are back at the station. You and I have somewhere else to be."

Kate stared at him, wondering what he was talking about. "Where?"

"Just come along with me," Hotch said, and swept away down the hall, leaving Kate two options: follow or be left behind.

She scrambled to follow, wondering why Hotch was so pissed. Yes, she'd been late. Yes, she'd missed 80% of a crucial takedown. But it had gone down without her there. It was fine.

"Where are we going?" She panted, needing to take three steps to his one. And even then she was barely caught up with him.

"To a surveillance spot," Hotch said. "Krystal's partner is still loose. You and I have the best chance; we were the only ones who didn't take part in arresting Krystal."

"So we're undercover," Kate said.

"Yes," Hotch answered.

"Shouldn't we have changed then?" Kate asked. "You're in your suit and I'm looking damned professional myself. I don't think either look conduces to undercover work."

"There'll be outfits waiting for us there," Hotch said. "Don't worry about it."

Kate huffed. "You could explain this a bit more," she said.

"You could have been on time to work this morning," Hotch snapped back and Kate stopped short at the tone of his voice.

"It's all coming back to that?" She asked. "I slept in. It happens."

"Then why was Morgan leaving your room at 3 a.m.?" Hotch snapped. "When he's in a committed relationship with Savannah? Why was his shirt off?"

Kate blinked, and unconsciously wet her lips. "Sir. I'm sorry but I can't explain that without betraying a confidence."

Hotch shook his head. "It should be none of my business, Kate, but you're playing with fire here."

"It isn't what you think," she protested. "I mean that."

"Whatever it is, it is," Hotch said and started to walk again. "Walk, Kate."

She hurried after him in silence, trying to understand how to answer him and explain everything to him without saying why Derek had been in her room last night.

It really wasn't what he was thinking.

"You chose what for me?" Hotch barked, blistering the agent with a glare that could melt his eyes off, Kate reflected.

"It's the scene," Hotopp stammered. "And it's not that bad. You got to keep your shirt. Just don't button it."

Again, the glare was withering.

"He was already pissed at me," Kate called from behind a screen. "It's not your fault, Hotopp."

"Thanks, Agent Callahan," Hotopp answered. "How are you doing?"

"I'm not sure this is my size," Kate said. "But since you only got one it will have to do. Could you help me with the zipper?"

"Are you sure it isn't your size?" Hotopp asked. "I told the designer your measurements and he said it was exact."

"Well, it's very exacting, that's for sure," Kate said and emerged in a 1980s-esque blue dress, with sheer paneling on the stomach, a tutu-like skirt and black stockings with garters. She turned her back to them. "Could you get it, Hotopp?"

"I'll get it," Hotch said, stepping in front of the other agent at the last second. "Hotopp, you need to be finalizing the plan with Randy."

"Of course," Hotopp said and scrambled from the van.

The zipper was up half-way, showing Kate's back and shoulders. Kate shivered when she felt Hotch's hands on her back.

"What?" He asked, pulling the fabric together so he could zip her dress.

"Your hands are cold," Kate explained it away and moved away from him as soon as he was done. After all, there was no way she was telling him that she was shivering because she was attracted to him.

His hands had been cold, anyway. It wasn't a lie, just not the real cause.

"What kind of thing is this, anyway?" Kate said.

"You'll let Damien flirt with you," Hotopp said, returning as she spoke. "He'll make a move, and you'll let him. At some point, he will buy you a drink. It will be drugged. That is when Hotch will step in."

"How are we going to ensure that Damien will flirt with me? Am I his type? Most of the victims he and Krystal shared were blonde."

"That was Krystal's type," Hotopp said. "If Damien isn't appearing, Hotch is going to dance with you, make a scene and leave you alone. That will leave you stranded and then Damien will definitely be attracted to your new position. He'll play rescuer then."

"I understand," Kate answered.

She took the moment to discreetly check out Hotch, who was now wearing jeans tighter than she'd ever seen him in and his white dress shirt, distinctly crumpled and unbuttoned.

She saw dark chest hair and turned away before he saw she was looking.

She felt guilt, of all things, in all places. Hotch was the one being a jerk and she was the one left feeling guilty.

But she knew why she felt guilty. She knew exactly why.

Because she'd overheard Hotch say he had feelings for her and then he'd seen Morgan leave her hotel room.

It wasn't a hard profile to make. She'd hurt him.

And she was damned if she'd let it come between them any farther. This plan would go off without a hitch, it had to. And then she'd tell him.

She'd tell him everything.

A/N: At most, this will be ten parts. At least, three parts. We'll see.