Well, this got a bit out of control, I gotta admit lol. This idea got to me, really, it couldn't leave my mind and the Lana del Rey song that names it just added to my muse. I really do hope you enjoy it, and be aware that this is Partners in Crime AU with our favorite profilers. Also, JJ/Blake pairing bc I'm a Jalex trash and slight moreid too :D But hotchniss is main.
Thanks to Fran for this amazingly beautiful cover (that she edited in what, five seconds or something?). I'm sorry for any mistake in advance, no beta-reading in this one.
Disclaimer: The characters are intellectual property of CBS, therefore, this is a fan work without financial gain and with the only purpose of entertainment.
RATED M FOR VIOLENCE, STRONG LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL CONTENT.
DON'T READ IF NOT SUITABLE!
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"Jayje, Reid" a masculine voice filled the conference room, poking his head inside just to announce that it was time to deliver the profile of this goddamn case.
It was a bad one, a team on a compulsive mission to praise one another with the crimes they've been committing for the last two decades. Even as they resided in Virginia now, closer to home, nothing seemed more terrifying than sociopaths on the loose by their backyards, the subway, or any possible convenience they stopped by. And it was getting to them enough for that common habit of calling home to check on Henry turning into five dials in the period of a morning.
Her wife was a profiler and linguist – a trained and seasoned one - but it never failed to amaze the blonde how these cases affected her. On the other hand, the team's genius was unusually shattered, a nervous tinge on his ever so blank features showing just how much this was no easy job. Put aside Garcia, whose high heels had been clattering around the sixth floor through the whole day as she wandered in search for the recipients of such requested information.
"We'll be right there" glancing at Morgan as the dark profiler absent-mindedly headed to the bullpen, the blonde mother could see a tense line on his broad shoulders.
Maybe they wouldn't be this uneasy if both unsubs hadn't been in law enforcement for at least five years of their lives. What, consequentially, transformed them into masters of disguise and efficiency when it came to seduce, murder, steal all the victim's money, respect and strip them off any humanity.
"Your phone is ringing" Spencer stood coyly in front of his friend, a knowing look comforting her slightly as she answered the line while moving past him and towards the door.
Reid followed suit, tucking his hands inside his slacks' pockets in a protective manner. He wasn't worried about himself, not really, he was worried about the danger they'd put themselves into by the instant they'd go out for the chase. For what he's known about killer couples, most cause a great mess in their arrest.
They joined the others in the bullpen minutes later, Spencer sitting on his desk, Morgan and Dave on their feet near the board, JJ vanishing to talk to her partner only to reappear right on time by Garcia's left, close to her own desk. With a nod, they got it started; setting up for a game they'd likely regret playing.
"We're looking for a team, male and female in their mid-thirties to early-forties, both brunette and extremely dangerous for those who become their targets"
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Black stilettos clanked the main stage, one after the other as the female hips above it swayed in slow motion. Her skin was fair, an almost unhuman porcelain white with eventual flushed spots contrasting with dark doe eyes, long lashes making her lids lower in a sensual way. Barely cladding her curves, a silver fringe flapper dress shone with every time a blue or red spotlight attempted to paint it. It was an inebriating sight, able to make any red-blooded male feel like a prey gladly waiting to be hunted by her.
On the other side of the bar, wearing his best tailored suit, a black gaze met her frame, followed every step her long lean legs made through the glowing stage. Grabbing his order – single malted – he blended the content before throwing it all down his throat in one harsh shot. The burning sensation got him going, a sudden insecurity fidgeting with his silky blue tie and disappearing the minute some random remix started to fill the room.
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"The woman is a black widow, she's usually the one in the position of seducing costumers, flirting with them and doing anything until it's her time to take what she wants" the goateed agent continued Derek's assertion.
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He decided he wouldn't walk up there, no, this would be giving himself too much to her and the brunette male wasn't quite sure if such action would be appreciated by that mysterious person she was exhibiting. And so he waited patiently, watched her dance around the pole, every muscle of her legs as she wrapped them around it, bent forward, clutched it to go up and down with that smooth undulation from her hips. Dammit, he wanted to take her right then and there, against that metal bar with nothing to hold on but his shoulders as he'd drive into her rough and hard.
The woman never failed to capture two pair of eyes focused on her, one reading her every movement throughout her gig and the other clearly too entertained. They were not the only ones, of course, but the latter was sure as hell the one she was seeking for that night in particular. A couple of songs later, and she was finally able to walk up to him, to set her brown eyes on him and him only. Greeting the handsome man with a sly grin, she sneaked between him and a male broad back pressing almost annoyingly against her.
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"And that's the point her partner steps in" JJ stated, heading to where the other profilers stood "After she is able to catch their target's attention, the second level starts, that is to lure the victim out of the bar"
"I'm sorry agent, but did you say level?" a tall man with rolled up sleeves questioned from the crowd.
"Yes, to the man, specifically, it's all about a game. Their compulsions diverge at this point and it's easier for them to fail" she pointed to the victims "They've been slipping recently, the last dumped body had evident signs of torture, and he had hormone levels that attested sexual arousal a few minutes before he was murdered"
"And you can clearly see overkill, what proves that the man is not particularly fond of sharing what he considers to be his" Reid finally spoke.
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It was an easier target than she supposed. Man in suit and tie, eager for her from the instant he walked in, caught a glimpse of her slender frame up the luminous stage and innocently decided she was the one he should have. Obstinate, fearless, she kind of liked him already if she could say so herself. Battering her lashes, the vixen approached him to propose what she so craved for in her best sultry voice. And if he hadn't been more obvious, maybe he'd even have a chance of some fun before he was a goner.
But he was, slipping out of the stool with his large hands covering her feminine ones, entwining their fingers while he guided them out of the back door. She figured he'd be one to hide as well, it was almost her job to know everything and anything about his type. Therefore, when she called a cab herself, lips ghosting his corded neck, the testosterone would be fogging his mind enough for him to be careless.
Five minutes later, she was pressed between a cold brick wall in a forsaken seedy alley, waiting for their drive of the night to pick them up. If he made her wait another five minutes, she'd surely score a ten in front of him and he'd have to just fucking deal with that. Even though parts of her wanted that raw adrenaline, it would never be the same and she cursed under her breath for comparison would haunt her forever. It was like a damn spell.
They occupied the backseat in seconds, his hands never leaving her warm flesh, roaming every curl he'd find from thighs to breasts to her center. And it wasn't much to her surprise when a cold nuzzle was pressed to the man's sweaty temple, making him stop bluntly, search her eyes for an indulgence he'd never find. Whether she gave her driver leeway to strike him with his barrel hard enough to make their target fall limply on her lap, he needn't to be told twice.
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"They are confident enough to use their real names, so don't underestimate them in any way" Morgan chimed in "The two of them were trained by some us, the man worked for SWAT and the Seattle Field Office in the 90s, the woman for both CIA and Interpol, so they might as well fake it better than most criminals"
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'Really, Hotch?' her ragged breath was enough to prove to him that her complaints were nothing but what they were named of 'You're such a spoilsport'
'Shut up, Emily, for fuck's sake' his baritone voice was husky against her collarbone, his hips pressing her against the posh hotel room door while one of his thighs was placed between hers, making her grind against him like a starved cat. 'Your precious bimbo will be fine'
'Possessive much?' a mocking laughter was quickly muffled by his rough mouth on hers, claiming and needy and pouring all his arousal into such desperate gesture. Masculine palms ran through that damn blonde wig, pulling it off her scalp in one ungentle movement, yanking the beige cap until her black hair was cascading down her back. His tongue plundered her heated cave with one violent push, never asking for permission even though he captured a pleased moan with his own animalistic grunt.
Running the length of her arms with one swift move, the man in a tailored suit could feel such tender flesh shivering under his touch. It was heady, his erection now almost painful, straining his slacks, heavy and ready to enter her anytime she so wished. Yet, they had some unfinished business first, and although he loved fucking her while on the run, they needed those goddamn codes before someone caught them off guard.
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"There's an important part of the profile that is outstanding" the resident genius shared a pile of papers with his blonde friend as they walked through the crowd distributing files "Even though they seem to pick up random targets, they are overachievers, so they always study their next victim before choosing one, the most difficult is their first option. They usually have a copy of their hotel room keycards, even home or car if it's necessary, and they're rarely afraid of killing anyone that gets in their way."
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'You bitch, I should have known better what whores like you-' he was backhanded mid-sentence, Emily's trimmed red nails digging into his jaw in order to bring his eyes back to her face while Hotch finished his task of searching the whole place for any signs of that flash drive with access to their target's bank accounts overseas.
Grinning wickedly at her almost begging purr, the brunette male finally grasped a key hidden below a fake drawer. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him. Emily was sauntering around the man, posing perfectly behind him therefore she could connect their lust-fogged irises. But what made him almost flung her over his shoulder and shove her at some random corner where he could have his way with her was that damn grip she had on the costumer's hair - vicious, firm - while he was mercilessly held at gunpoint.
'See anything you like?' she winked at him, biting her pearly red lower lip in the process. Fuck, she had to flawless - in a sick, psychopathic way, but flawless none the less.
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"The woman gets off in the thrill of the rush and seducing others that are not her partner, and the man is a player, a winner that is because he's always the one taking the object of other men's desire with him, whether it's money, dignity, but to him…" Dave motioned his finger towards the picture on the board "It's all about her, always, and it turns him into the most fragile even though it looks otherwise"
"But it appears to be like that because the woman is the one that suffered the greatest trauma during childhood" JJ completed "The absence of a parent, the death of the father figure and the purposeful loss of a child when she was young turned her into what she is, that's why he is the only man she trusts…"
"Because she dominates him" Reid offered almost as an afterthought.
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There were clothes scattered all over the carpet in lightning speed, her form being the first to bare herself as her partner leaned against the window frame. Their target was still tied to that chair in front of him, and perhaps that sensation of a sociopath ready to put a bullet through his skull was what made him beg for his life in a last attempt. He lifted his head to meet Emily's naked image, all that expanse of creamy white skin making him swallow thick.
'If you look at her…' a metallic click from his aimed revolver forced the other man to immediately look down. He wasn't satisfied, though, and so Hotch crept closer like a predator. 'It's a shame, isn't it? That such beautiful woman is fooling around with a guy like me'
The brunette female's knowing smile was all he could see, bright and teasing him while she quickly changed into her pre-selected garments for the go. They had been planning this for months - three or five to be exact. From this day forward, it would be just the two of them in Monaco, living a quiet life with this son of a bitch's lifetime work.
Perhaps they'd even stop playing; perhaps they'd become good citizens and spend the rest of their lives out of that bloody place that gave them nothing but recollections about the abuse they suffered during their early lives.
He was beaten to crap by his drunken father, and she… oh Emily, poor young Emily who whole-heartedly believed other man's words. They met at a bar over twenty years ago, and the way he found her hidden gun before she could burn his brains was almost charming.
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"They won't take time to clean up the mess; actually, we believe they are getting ready to leave the U.S." Derek announced "That's why we have only until tomorrow to catch them. Thank you."
With those words, the crowd dissipated, sprinted back to their jobs in an attempt to imprison them the fastest possible. They'd probably strike again tonight, if they were not at it already. Time was running out quick and all they feared most was about to come true: they'd lose a case for the first time in ages.
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'You're insane!' unconsciously, the victim spat at Hotch, tilting his head to the side only the enough to see the vixen now slipping into tight dark jeans, a lacy bra and suede knee high black boots.
'I told you not to look at her!' his voice grew impatient, rage eating him up as he struck the barrel against the man's forehead again strong enough to draw blood.
He wouldn't stop though, she was aware, and so Emily watched him snap, morph into her favorite beast mode. What she always saw in his eyes was what always provided that delicious pressure between her legs, scratching her depths almost torturing slow until her pupils were dilated, her flesh warm for him to drown.
Every strike of his knuckles on the man's cheek, every time Aaron's foot connected to his stomach after that so rich and powerful "businessman on a working trip" figure was reduced to an object down the floor. She couldn't contain herself, reaching forward to envelope Hotch's waist in an almost lovingly gesture. He wouldn't kill that son of a bitch, not really, something inside of him always screamed at him to stop himself, although he desperately wanted to.
'Babe…' Emily was aware of his feelings, he had always been weaker than her on that matter, and so she pressed her lips to the nape of his neck 'We've got to finish this, it's our last time'
'Do it' he unholstered the gun from his slacks' waistband, handing it to her nimble fingers fisting his stained dress shirt. 'We have a deal'
'Do it with me… please' Emily covered his large hands while she positioned his fingers to pull that goddamn trigger, to give her one last gift before they'd never need to do this again 'Did you see the look he had in his eyes when we were in the backseat? The way he was touching me, the way he didn't even mind your existence like I was his doll or something'
It was all it took, all it took for a silenced noise cut sharp through the air, to that bullet nestle inside the man's head, to have another life taken from their hands. The room was a mess - she liked it messy, an art to remember. Albeit she'd love to stay by and appreciate, time was running out and they had to run.
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Garcia almost ripped the glass door open as she walked in the bullpen, one leg after the other to meet the team where they were gathered around two transparent boards. It was the nth time JJ was over the phone, confirming that things were alright with Blake for she didn't even know if she'd make it to home that night.
"Guys! I've got a lead!" the blonde tech analyst squealed from her spot, showing them a tablet with video surveillance from a local bar and hours later from a reported local hotel. "Definitely our guys, the hotel just sent me a note reporting them and, also, that they left less than five minutes ago driving a dark blue sedan heading north."
Exchanging those awfully knowing looks, Derek tried to summarize the only thing in his mind at that moment. "We have to make it to the airport before they do, otherwise this is endgame"
"I'll call in reinforcements" Dave nodded, dialing a number to Strauss' direct line therefore they could have extra SWAT teams in field with them. Things were ugly, and about to get uglier.
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Folding her jacket closer to her body, Prentiss fought against the heavy silence building up inside the car whilst Hotch drove as fast as he could to their last destination. A jet they had booked over two weeks ago to a place where they could be out of this screwed up life.
'Aaron… what's wrong with you?' her question was soft, genuinely concerned as though they haven't just murdered a man in cold blood, beat him almost to death.
'What's wrong with me?' his mocking tone caught her off guard, one perfect eyebrow cocking towards his sudden harshness while the brunette eyed his clean clothes – grey slacks, light blue buttoned up. 'We had a deal'
'Babe…' she tried.
'Dammit Emily! Getting rid of Haley wasn't enough to you, was it?!' he howled, his eyes almost bleeding into obscurity 'And then that whole drama with Doyle, that I had to fucking to solve to you! We had a deal when we got back together, we had a deal that this time it would be "no more secrets", that this time if we had to end them that would be on you!'
If she hadn't been horny like hell since they arrived at that forsaken bar, she'd probably have snapped in that very moment. Still, there was something there forbidding her to make any impulsive move. Taking a deep, weary breath, Prentiss used a mild tone, barely above a whisper.
'I'm sorry…' interlacing their fingers as he drove away with one agile hand on the steering wheel 'I really am, it's just…' she brought his bruised knuckles to her lips, a faint red still coloring them. 'Hormones you know, they got the best of me'
And he almost crashed the Audi as the words she just uttered sank in. His lids rounded his ever so narrow eyes, taking in her palm covering the back of his hand as she placed them above a slight swell on her abdomen. This couldn't be happening, no, it just couldn't. It was happiness and sadness and a rollercoaster of emotions mixing all together causing him to gape at her tender smile.
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Meanwhile, Derek and Spencer were in the first SUV leading the way with the sirens blazing through the road's ambience, followed by Jennifer and Rossi boarding the second vehicle. From the speaker, the blonde analyst debriefed them about the coordination and the car she could get the plate, brand, also place they'd departure from. Apparently, Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss were not as smart as a certain Penelope Garcia.
"Baby girl, talk to-"
"Homeland security? Yeah my hunk chocolate thunder, you bet I did" she added the tiniest sauciness to her remark "If they even make it to airplane they will be received by the whole gang there"
"I would say airport security staff" the dark agent exchanged an amused look with his mate, the two men partially startled that she immersed that far into the activity. There was a different gleam between them, a small shift in their behaviors long enough to have them reeling with possibilities, Reid rummaging with his earpiece still on his hand and Derek beaming a sad smile back.
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Danger was an understatement to begin with. Hotch threw his keys on the cement, leaving it behind along with those memories while Emily grabbed her bags, handling it herself with an overjoyed line twitching the corner of her lips. She looked beautiful under the pale moonlight, black mascara curling her long lashes, a leather coat saving her red tank top clad torso from the icy wind typical from the dawn surrounding them.
'Ready?' his gentle whisper made her grin like a cheshire cat, ravishing and so goddamn Emily.
'Babe, after all these years…' feminine mouth stole masculine one, teeth, tongue working in a perfect unison to enchase a low groan down his throat. 'Do you really think there's anything I'm unprepared for?'
Long callused fingers tangled with her matching ones while they walked up to the alternative entry where special costumers had a lounge to wait for their flights. Usually wealthy types would make their ways through it, and that they no doubts were now. But that was the instant hopeful orbs broke down. FBI jackets, holstered guns, those almighty poses searching for something.
'Aaron…'
'I know' his orbs were bored into the chaotic image in front of him, destroying everything they so hard worked for. He gazed at her apparent fear, sudden aware of that confession she made back on the road. There was a fracture of them growing within her, and if he had to be honest with himself, his life worth nothing compared to that.
Of course he had another plan, of course he bought extra tickets from different flights, of course he packed her male attire from times when she faked it better than anyone ever could and the many IDs they acquired throughout the years.
His lips were on hers a heartbeat later, almost careful as that was supposed to be their last touch – so she thought, at least. Cupping her jaw to lift her face towards him, Hotch murmured before she vanished from his sight for what it felt like a lifetime. 'One of us will find a way out'.
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They needn't much to find the said man trying to board the plane he had rented for the night. Also, none of them missed a pleased glint gracing his handsome features while he had his sight fixed on his expensive wristwatch. There was something off about it, something awkwardly… calm about him that unsettled everyone.
"We can't find her" JJ spoke through the radio a couple of minutes later, her chest heaving due the blasting exercise of patrolling all the gates available; Reid, resigned quietly to cast a glance at her that spoke millions. "She's gone, Derek."
And Emily Prentiss indeed was nowhere to be seen on American soil, the name of Timothy Hale being hers until she landed in Monaco, free for how long she so wished – nevertheless bound to him for as long as she lived and breathed. It was a painful thought, a hollow twisting inside Aaron's guts from the instant they cuffed him to that one he was shoved like trash at some random high security prison.
That afternoon, right after the case while the blonde mother settled herself in the comfy couch to take a so longed nap, something made her linger awake and that was never missed by her wife. Alex sat by Jennifer's side, placing the other woman's legs on her lap while she ran a soothing hand all over her toned calves.
"He turned himself in too easily, he's a predator Alex, he shouldn't have" her confused expression made the linguist think deeply about the matter, recollect every word she heard about the case.
"Sweetheart…" sipping her fuming tea carefully, the older woman took a pregnant pause to muster her next sentence "Do you remember what you told me about him?
"He's a player, a winner, and it's always been about her" realization hit her wildly, blue eyes connecting with her partner's black ones, seeking for that guilt to let go of her. "She's out of reach… he won"
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Hot shades burned her fair alabaster skin, sunglasses helping to keep herself protected from that usual Texan sunny morning. Across her shoulder, a go bag was ready to be passed along to that familiar face she hadn't seen in over five years. Gripping viciously on the bag's strap, the brunette female tried to conceal nervousness unnatural to her ever so plain posture.
'Wow, what a damsel in distress I have here' a shiver ran down her spine, that voice approaching her from behind and before she knew, Emily had spun on her heels 'Take care good lady, the psychos might show up'
That damn teasing wink was all it took to make her warm up again, a large smile plastering on her face almost too gleeful to even acknowledge that this was indeed happening. He couldn't be there, could he? A split second passed, the stiffness as she appeared to be rooted on the dust causing him to chuckle.
'Babe, I'm here' his lips brushed her forehead, cataloging the lack of her famous bangs 'I told you that we'd find a way out, you should trust me more often'
'What would I do if didn't have you to clean up my mess, huh?' Prentiss' fingers combed his dark hair, strand sliding through them as she skimmed his scalp lightly.
'I have no idea'
'Should I even ask how you got out of that dump?' they headed towards the BMW she had rented for their short stay in America, peeking at the small black haired mix of them sleeping peacefully by that backseat.
'Nothing you really should worry about, there was a huge prison break, some hand to hand stuff, I probably broke a rib or two but nothing that new' he waved off too affectedly, joking at her obvious uneasiness.
'Jerk' she punched his biceps, laughing at the whine she received in return 'But I do have something new for you, that goes by the name of Rosie… take a look in the backseat, Mr. I-got-the-fuck-out-of-jail-by-myself'
Stalking over his shoulder, Hotch grinned at what he recognized as his – their – parts conjoined. She was beautiful just like her mother, even more so if that was even possible, and he could almost see her showing him this huge toy room his partner probably built up from day one, her short legs exploring everywhere she possibly could. They might have lived one troublesome life, but he sure as hell would never let that little brunette go through it, ever - like he could stop her anyway.
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That's it! Hope you enjoyed and if you can, please, take a minute to tell me what you think about this piece! I'm eager to read from you.