AN: Here is a little jaunt off my usual pairing to a couple of couples that are really fun to write, too... Kick back and enjoy and see how the other halves live (hee hee)...
Chapter 1
The entire team converged in the conference room, awaiting an update from Garcia regarding mandatory in-services they needed to attend. Each year, profilers had training in multiple areas—gun safety, first aid, and CPR to name a few—to keep them refreshed and current. Everyone on the team, sans Garcia, was required to attend. In this case, she acted as a secretary and was responsible for scheduling the team's outings and times.
The FBI did this in a rather interesting way. They partnered teams that competed against one another, handicapping certain teams as appropriate, and encouraging friendly competition within the teams themselves. This made the standardized testing far more interesting. The reward was bragging rights only, but that was enough for somewhat prideful agents.
"It's that time again," Garcia announced cheerfully as she entered the doorway, a flash of color and brightness in a government-gray room. "So, my steadfast heroes and heroine, who is pairing up with whom? I know you all usually do the same pairs..." She looked down at her iPad and then up at everyone, biting her fuchsia-colored lower lip. "This year is a little different than last year..."
Penelope didn't say the words—that Prentiss was gone. Instead, it seemed that she just let her words drift off as softly and unobtrusively as she could. Emily would've wanted it that way. It had been her decision to leave this time; they didn't need to mourn her.
"I am going to ask that everyone pair up with someone different than the last few years," Hotch stated, looking at everyone in the group. "JJ lost her usual partner with Prentiss leaving. I will partner with her this year—" he paused on JJ and arched a brow "—if that is agreeable with you?"
She blinked for a few seconds in obvious shock. "That's fine. I'm...pleasantly surprised, but...it's fine."
Rossi chuckled. "What, Aaron? Are you sick of me beating you in marksmanship?"
Hotch shot Rossi a wry grin. "No, I'm sick of you putting the moves on the Resucci-Annie."
"Ah...I thought only Morgan did that?" Reid asked with a not-so-innocent smirk.
"That's it, Pretty Boy, you're goin' down," Morgan threatened and then looked over at Garcia. "Baby Girl, put me and the runt on a team together."
"Sure thing, lover," she remarked with a grin. She tapped a few things into her pad. "Let's see...I've got Hotch and JJ, my boy genius and my baby boy—ooh! Boy Squared, like Duran Duran!—and..." She glanced up sadly at Rossi. "Aww, Super Agent, I think that leaves you alone."
"Don't worry, kitten," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I think I will opt out of all this nonsense and go challenge myself to some fine brandy and cigars."
Garcia looked over at Hotch and winced sheepishly...which seemed to be an odd reaction, as far as Dave thought.
"Maybe afterward," Hotch said, drawing his attention. "You do need to participate...and you have a partner."
Dave chuckled and then really focused on Hotch. In that flash of a moment, his chuckle was gone. "Pray tell...who am I partnering with?"
The look on Hotch's face was flat and stoic, but Dave sensed something just slightly recalcitrant, like he'd done something wrong.
Oh, no...
Dave started to shake his head slowly in dismay. "Oh, Aaron...you didn't."
"We'll talk in a second," Hotch replied under his breath, giving him a look that asked for patience and understanding. He looked over at Penelope. "Garcia, please inform HR of the team we discussed and the ones formed here."
"Yes, sir," she said. She mouthed, "I'm sorry," to Rossi before hightailing it out of the room.
Hotch addressed the rest of the group. "The rest of you may be excused."
Profilers scattered like fallen leaves on a blustery autumn day, nearly tripping over each other to escape the uproar they knew was going to happen. Spencer Reid, genius that he was, shut the door as he left.
"If you'll listen for a moment, you will see it really makes the most sense," Hotch began to explain, but Dave really didn't want to hear it. He was a patient man—well, not really—but this would make Saint Dominic curse!
"The hell it does!"
"Dave—"
"You put me with THAT woman!" he snarled. "I can't be around THAT woman for more than ten minutes without wanting to twist that string of pearls she wears and choke her!"
"Dave, I know you and Erin have a history, but even you have to admit she's changed—"
His heart twitched in his chest. She hadn't changed enough for either of them to be willing to take a chance on each other. He'd left her bed, and she was as cold as always...
Covering his heartache with sarcasm, he barked a nasty laugh. "For you, maybe. For me, she's just the same ol' bitch on wheels she's always been."
Hotch pulled a mild but disbelieving face. "You don't really believe that anymore."
He crossed his arms over his chest, knowing he looked somewhat like a petulant five year old, but he didn't really care. "Yes, I do."
Hotch twisted his lips to the side in a look that bespoke irony. "And yet you just slept with her..."
Oh...low blow! He glared at Hotch incredulously. "That was a mistake, and you have no right to bring up my sex life."
Actually, once that door was shut, Dave knew damn well that he and Hotch had an open door policy. They were old friends who spoke honestly and plainly no matter what. That's what maintained their friendship that had that stood stronger than any other he'd ever had.
One dark brow arched on his best friend's face. "We're not talking about propriety, are we?"
Dave sat back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee in an effort to relax. That was nearly impossible; irritation was steamrolling over him. Christ, this was a pickle. He didn't want to fight with Hotch, but to pair him with Erin? That was beyond cruel and unusual punishment.
"Dave...I'm sorry for my commentary," Hotch began apologetically after a moment when they'd both cooled down. "That was uncalled for. I don't want to put you in a situation, but I have no choice in the matter."
His grin was sardonic. "Erin requested me?"
That made Hotch's lips quiver with a smirk. "No...I would say she has about as much animosity for you that you have for her."
"Well, then, it's settled," Dave said, uncrossing his legs as if he were going to leave.
"Dave, like any other profiler, Erin is required to complete field testing. This year, since we are short a member, we were volunteered to assist with that testing," he explained.
"Yippee," he said flatly.
Ignoring his sarcasm, Hotch continued, "I was told I can't partner with her; she is my direct superior and will judge my performance for evals."
Inwardly, Dave grimaced. He knew what was coming next.
"You are the only one on the team who is near the same level in ranking as Erin. It would be awkward and uncomfortable to ask one of the other profilers to judge her."
Shit.
Dave ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily, and then shot Hotch the hairy eyeball. "You owe me a bottle of twelve year Scotch for this."
Hotch smiled and then reached by his foot to put the already procured bottle of whiskey on the table...
AN2: NOMINATIONS HAVE STARTED FOR PROFILER'S CHOICE CRIMINAL MINDS FANFIC AWARDS!
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