Title: Fraunch Toast

Author: Kuria Dalmatia

Rating/Warnings: FRT/PG (nothing really offensive)

Characters/Pairing: Sean & Beth (Hotch/Beth)

Summary: Sean wondered if he should tell his brother how many women claimed to be dating Aaron Hotchner.

ARCHIVING: my AO3, Tumblr, FFN and LJ only... anyone else? Please ask first.

April 2013, November 2013

COMMENTS: Unbetaed. This was started and abandoned well before S8's "Brothers Hotchner" when we didn't know Sean's fate. Here, he's taken a bit of a different path. Resurrected and completed as part of the Wrisomifu challenge.

Thanks to Kurominds and yetanothercriminalmindsfanatic for the pic of Hotch and Beth back in April 2013. The one below is from eleheff from November 2013. It reminded me I still had this story looming out there…

Feedback always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. Salut! I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done. I'm not making any profit just trying to get these images out of my head.

"Sean, someone's here to see you."

Sean Hotchner looked up as Melanie, the head waitress, sauntered through the door holding a business card. He held back a grimace. How the hell was he supposed to get the pre-dinner work done when he was constantly interrupted? It wasn't unusual for people to ask for him by name, but they usually did it during dinner.

Restaurant Beauchesne was the second of Delanno Lamoureux's eateries in New York and the one that Del recently named Sean as head chef. Sean's meteoric rise from Georgetown-educated, almost-lawyer to classical French-trained culinary phenom hadn't gone unnoticed. Food critics and bloggers visited the restaurant all the time. Between them and the foodies, he got called to the front of the house a lot.

Then, there were the crime groupies who sometimes camped out in the restaurant in hopes of meeting his older brother. Those people... those people made him want to change his name.

He'd never admit it aloud, but he was thankful that he had been in France, learning at the cutting board of Del, when Haley was murdered. Sean didn't get word of what had happened until three weeks afterwards. It honestly wasn't his fault; news like that wouldn't have made the French news and Aaron hadn't called him until after the funeral. Typical Aaron, trying to protect him (still), but he was nonetheless grateful. By the time Sean returned permanently to the States, it had been over a year since Haley's murder and the interest had died down. He wasn't automatically linked to Aaron by the press.

The groupies, however, knew exactly who he was.

Sean wiped his hands and accepted the business card. He glanced at the front—more for the business name than for the person—and this time he did roll his eyes.

An art gallery. It wasn't one that he recognized although that wasn't much of a surprise. Paintings and sculptures never held much interest for him, unless it was part of plating a meal. Still, someone from a gallery stopping by wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but usually he or she spoke with the restaurant manager, not the head chef. He stuffed the card in the arm sleeve of his chef's jacket, next to his mini notebook.

"Thanks," he said drily, earning a laugh from Melanie, and waved over his sous chef to finish the prep . He headed out to the main part of the forty-seat restaurant, spotting a petite brunette by the hostess stand. She was reading a menu, and Sean prayed that she wasn't going to ask him to cater something. She wouldn't be the first (or last) to do so. Suddenly, he hoped her purpose was to get some of her gallery's works in the restaurant. Then, he could pawn her off to Alejandro and be done with it.

When she looked up, a brilliant smile spread across her face. She looked in her early-forties, which was older than Sean was expecting. Most of the gallery girls were just that: young college interns who could probably be models if they wanted to. This woman, with her floral print dress and chunky art house jewelry, set the menu down and took a few steps towards him.

"Thanks for taking the time to meet me. I know you're really busy," she said apologetically.

Instead of being reassuring, which he was certain she was aiming for, he made him more wary. Sean did his best to seem friendly and open; he couldn't risk pissing her off and possibly tarnishing the name of the restaurant. He'd seen that happen at Del's flagship restaurant, when kitchen manager inadvertently insulted a blogger who had over two thousand followers. However, he was uncertain of this cheerful middle-aged woman who acted like she knew him. She wouldn't be the first to play the 'we know each other so well!' game. Just because he opted down a different path than his brother didn't mean he wasn't aware of the crazies that were out there.

One of these days, he'd tell Aaron just how many crime groupies came to the restaurant in hopes of catching a glimpse of the BAU chief. One of these days, he hoped that foodies would come up to Aaron and gush, "I can't believe I'm meeting Sean Hotchner's brother!" It was unlikely that would ever happen, but he could always hope…

Maybe he should do that audition for Chopped on Food Network after all.

He held out his hand, making sure his own smile was friendly and open. As they shook, he asked, "What may I help you with?"

Her smile faltered for just a bit as she tilted her head slightly. Her handshake was tentative and quick. "Well, I'm new to the city," she began, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "and Aaron suggested that I look you up when I got here."

Sean's expression didn't change. No matter what people said, he had just as good poker face as his elder brother, except he didn't scowl to achieve it. Hell, he could grin and no one would know the better. Crime groupie, he thought as his hand dropped to his side. He kept his tone affable as he said, "Well, here I am."

She gave him an odd look. "Um. I'm Beth Clemmons. Aaron and I are … um… well, we're dating. He said he would mention it to you?" The last word came out as a question.

He almost laughed. He almost retorted, Listen, lady, my brother has a thing for blondes, because ever since Sean could remember, his older brother had always preferred golden haired girls. If one were to crack open any of the family albums, they would see the pattern. Before Haley. During the on-off with Haley during Aaron's college years. Hell, if Aaron ever decided to date again (which Sean believed wouldn't be until Jack was in college… even that was a huge maybe), he would set his sights on a blonde, not a brunette.

Instead, he offered up a shrug. "Sorry, I must have missed the email."

Her cheeks reddened. She winced. "God, this is awkward."

You don't know the half of it, Sean thought.

She then pawed through her small purse, producing an iPhone. With a few taps and swipes, she then turned the phone towards him. One the screen was a picture of her and Aaron. They were both dressed casually, cheeks flushed, and her hair was pulled back into a pony tail while Aaron's was mussed up, which was unusual for his stick-up-the-ass-must-look-like-FBI-agent brother.

Sean resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest. If his brother only knew how many women claimed to be Aaron Hotchner's girlfriend nowadays … If this was the first time he'd seen a photo of his brother with a supposed girlfriend, it would be one thing. It didn't happen all that often, but he had to give credit to this Beth-person: the Photoshop job was pretty decent.

"Nice photo," he said.

Her earlier awkwardness disappeared. She narrowed her eyes as she pointed toward the kitchen doors. "Did she give you my business card?"

It was his turn to be uneasy. Sean had glanced at the card long enough to get the name but not much else. "Yes, she did."

"Did you… turn it over?"

She asked so nicely, as if not trying to offend him, that Sean reached to his arm pocket and pulled it out. That's when he saw the back of it, his brother's familiar if barely translatable scrawl in thick black ink:

Ask for the Fraunch toast w/Fraunch fries & Fraunch dressing. Eau!

For a moment, Sean just stared. It was a joke from when they were kids, one of the few times they'd gotten along. It was from some stupid 80's movie, when the mom wanted to impress her guests with authentic French food.

"Look, I know this is all awkward," she continued as she tapped on the screen of her phone, "and I'm really sorry. I guess I should have checked to see if he told you about me before I just showed up."

Sean was about to say something when his own phone chirped, alerting him to a text message. He ignored it but then Beth's phone chimed. She turned her phone towards him again.

"Aaron just texted you."

He read the screen. He saw the exchange of messages:

Me: You didn't tell him.

Aaron: Sorry. Buried with cases. Hold on. Txting him now.

Sean pulled his own phone from his front pocket and checked the message.

Aaron FBI: I know. Not a blonde.

He stared. And then he laughed. He typed back, You owe me bro.

Aaron FBI: When I visit, u choose restaurant for 3 of us. My treat.

Your FBI salary can't take it.

Aaron FBI: No wine then. Just eau.

Sean slid the phone back in his pocket. He extended his hand again. "Sorry about that before," he apologized, because he did have manners no matter what Aaron often said. "You'd be surprised how many people know my brother."

"Not really," she grinned as she shook his hand, this time with a lot more confidence. "Maybe on your next day off, I can tell you how Aaron and I met."

His brother. Dating.

It made him laugh again.

"You're on, Miss Clemmons," because yeah, this was really a story he wanted to hear.

***/*** Finis ***/***

The "Fraunch" joke comes from the movie Better Off Dead