Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They are owned by CBS. Trust me, if I owned them, things would be a lot different. This is dedicated to my fellow Hotch Honeys. Thank you for all the love and support you've given me as I begin my adventures in Criminal Minds fanfic.

"Sleeping is no mean art: for its sake one must stay awake all day. " - Friedrich Nietzsche

Aaron Hotchner couldn't believe it. He spent the night with Haley, and they still went back to the same circular argument of him not spending time with her. She was the only woman he'd ever loved.

He pulled his Tahoe into the parking space and hurried to his apartment. He unlocked the door, tossed his keys on the table and sighed. The coffee pot was set for 7:30, as usual. He downed a cup and headed for the bedroom. He had to hurry. He was never late for work. He grabbed fresh boxers and an undershirt and headed for his shower. He stripped quickly and turned the water on to blistering hot. It was then he noticed the dark bruises of fatigue under his eyes. He was used to sleeping three hours a night. He just hadn't been used to spending it with Haley.

He stepped into the shower and nearly yelped when he felt the hot water hit the fresh scratches on his back. His muscles ached. He wished he could, for just once, call out sick. His team needed him. Seven women had been killed in Bar Harbor, Maine. Each had been more brutal than the first.

He showered quickly, shaved, and then dressed. By 8:00, he was on I-95. By 9:30, he was pulling into the garage in Quantico.

Hotch hurried through the garage, praying no one wanted to talk to him. By all means, he should have been happy. He was feeling particularly broody. He wished he was still in bed with Haley. Or at least at home with a bottle of single-malt Scotch.

Walking into the BAU, he smacked directly into Emily Prentiss. "I'm sorry, Prentiss. I didn't see you." And he kept right on going, heading to his office. When he got there, he shut his door.

"And a fine good morning to you, too, Hotch," she muttered as he sped past her. She flopped into her desk chair. "Hey, Reid, what's wrong with Hotch?"

Spencer Reid looked up from his mountain of file folders. "Nothing that I'm aware of. Why?"

"He just nearly mowed me down. Like he's pissed at the world. Maybe he's not sleeping."

"He doesn't sleep. Did you know that the normal American gets an average 6.9 hours a day, almost an hour less than a few decades ago?'

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Fascinating." She watched JJ jog after Hotch.

JJ headed up the stairs to Hotch's office, case file in hand. She knocked on the door. "Come in."

"Hey, Hotch." She noticed that he was glaring. Not a good sign. "I have the case file for the murders in Bar Harbor."

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. He shook two out and downed them with his second cup of coffee. "What can you tell me?"

JJ thought, he's hungover. "Seven women, a mix of tourists and locals have been killed in Bar Harbor, Maine. The unsub is dumping the bodies on the beach. ME estimates they've been dead for three days once they're found." He took the file. "Tell everyone we'll meet in 10. I need to review this."

JJ shut the door behind her. She hated when Hotch was cranky. It only made him work harder. She headed to Garcia's cave, where she found not only Garcia, but Morgan.

"Have either of you encountered Hotch yet?"

Morgan shook his head. "Naw, I've been down here with Garcia all morning."

Garcia immediately became concerned. "What's wrong with Hotch?"

JJ shrugged her shoulders. "He's… acting like he has a bigger stick up his ass."

Morgan laughed. "He really needs to get laid." Garcia punched him in the arm.

"And you would know that, how?"

"He's tense all the time. He doesn't sleep. All he does is work. I'm just saying the guy needs to get a little lovin' and he'll calm down."

Garcia and JJ exchanged looks. "OK, Romeo," Garcia said, "As much as I love you, my god of exquisitely sculptured chocolate, what do you say I hit on him?"

Morgan visibly blanched. "No way, baby girl. Kevin is bad enough, but Hotch?"

Garcia's eyes twinkled behind her glasses, "Aw, what's wrong with Hotch? Are you jealous? Maybe he'd quit being such a Crankosaurus Rex after a night with me."

Morgan scoffed. "Of Hotch, hell no. It's just the thought of him having sex."

JJ slowly backed out of Garcia's cave. She didn't want to stick around for this conversation. There were times where she fantasized about her unit chief, but she would never admit it. Anyway, that was all in the past. She had Will, and now their baby Henry.

As she walked down the hall, David Rossi was leisurely strolling into the BAU. "Morning, Rossi." She handed him a copy of the case file.

"Hey, JJ. Is Hotch in yet?"

"Uh, yeah. He's in his office. With the door shut."

Rossi looked up towards the offices overlooking the bullpen. "I see." Rossi headed up the stairs and knocked on Hotch's door. He entered, not even waiting for an acknowledgement.

Hotch looked up from the file. "There is such a thing as knocking, you know."

"Who pissed in your Cornflakes this morning?"

"No one. I just wanted some privacy this morning."

Rossi walked over to Hotch's desk and started playing with the pencil cup. "You know, you look like a man who hasn't slept all night. Aaron, I know you don't sleep... but you look like you didn't sleep."

Hotch looked back down at the file, trying to avoid him. "I'm sleeping fine."

Rossi chuckled. "Yeah, but with whom?"

Hotch felt embarrassed. He knew Rossi would be the only one to figure out why he was feeling so anti-social. He flipped a page in the file nonchalantly. "I thought we agreed never to profile each other. And, my personal life is my personal life."

"You had ex-sex with Haley, didn't you?"

Stunned, Hotch looked up from the file. "No... We didn't have sex." He hoped that Rossi wouldn't see how he was blushing.

"Hotch, I've been married 3 times. I know the look of the man who's doing the mental walk of shame the next morning."

Hotch stood up from his desk and walked to the window. "So you've been in my shoes?"

"More times than I care to admit."

Hotch stared out the window and sighed. "We fought this morning. Do you think it would hurt less if I didn't love her?"

"Probably, but every time I did it, there were never any lingering feelings. Does she still love you?"

Hotch shrugged. "Yes – No – I don't know. I thought just for once… things might be as they were. And it was. Even this morning. Everything was just the same. Haley bitching at me for something I can't control."

Rossi clapped his shoulder. "Give it time. She may come around."

Hotch felt on the verge of tears. "The sad thing, Dave, is… I think she has. She can't reconcile why I do this job. And I have to admit that I treated her more like a mistress than a wife. I want to believe we're going to get back together, but I need to face reality that it's never going to happen as long as I do this."

Rossi looked at his friend with a wry smile. "Miracles happen. I'll see you in the round table room."

Hotch watched Rossi exit his office. He turned on his cell phone and scrolled down to Haley's name. He wanted to call her, but he knew he couldn't. Sadly, he closed the phone and put it back into his pocket. There was a case at hand. He couldn't wait any longer. He picked up his copy of the file and left his office. With a sigh, he walked into the round table room. "Good morning, everyone…"

And still… so far.