Nighthawks
A/N: Yes, I'm continuing, because some people seemed really eager to read more.
VII. Hotch
It's been one week since that night in the woods. One week since you managed to break through those barriers. You're awake, staring at your own ceiling. You can hear her soft breathing beside you, but somehow you know…
'Are you awake?'
'Mmm,' comes the affirmative reply. You knew she wasn't going to be asleep. Neither of you ever are.
It's an affair of sorts; you're both cheating on the FBI. It's not just about the deceit, or the broken rules. It's about the times you normally would have stayed behind to catch up on paperwork because you had nothing to go home to. You both swore that this was a personal thing, that it had nothing to do with work. That it wouldn't interfere. But you both know that that was just rationalization.
The lines have blurred.
VIII. Emily
He lies there, watching you as you dress. He's wearing that Hotch look; you know he's analyzing you, and you can't help feeling self-conscious. You know that getting dressed in the bathroom will send the wrong message. You try to talk, to distract his eyes.
'Did you get my file on the Hayes case?' You know that it's a question that will spark a dispute; not a severe one by any means, but enough that he won't be looking at you like that anymore.
'No discussing work before 8am,' he says sternly. He's looking into your eyes now, rather than at your body, but that's exactly what you wanted.
'It's 7:57,' you protest, smiling.
'Which is still three minutes before 8am.' When he smiles, you realize that you've never seen that look on his face; that fulfillment, that complacency. This is the side of him that you've never had the pleasure of getting to know. You know you're revealing things to Aaron that you rarely would to Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, Unit Chief. You still find yourself calling him "Hotch" though.
There are just some things you can't change right away.
IX. Hotch
You walk into your office at 9:23am. She enters the bullpen at 9:32. There's just enough difference that no-one would pick up on the fact that you came in together, her car behind yours the entire way.
You stare into the bullpen, almost ignorant of the pile of paperwork on your desk. You see her nod greetings towards Reid, who's dumping his bag on his desk, coffee in hand. They're laughing about something. She isn't quite that comfortable with you yet. The irony of it is almost bitter; you only really know her in the biblical sense.
In the briefing room, she barely gives you a second glance. Her eyes – and yours – are focused on JJ. With her legendary compartmentalization skills, you know she won't slip up. You're not sure if you can guarantee the same. Even the thought of her in danger tears you apart inside.
You had lost your way, and she is helping you find it again.
X. Emily
He catches your eye a few times on the jet. That newly wrought bond between you that cannot always be expressed in words. You admit, the experience does have you feeling better about your life, about the world in general. Before it was doom and gloom, one depressing case after another. Now you know you have something nice to come home to.
You know it can never go further than what it already is; an off hours affair. It isn't about love or even just sex. It's about need.
That's what you're trying to convince yourself, anyway.
The truth is, you know Aaron Hotchner is a man you could find yourself easily falling in love with; intelligent, handsome, and above all, honorable. You vaguely wonder how he copes with the deceit, if it eats away at him.
He pairs you with Morgan, sends the two of you to check out the crime scene. You find yourself staring off into the distance every now and then.
'Everything okay?'
'Yeah. Everything's fine.'
XI. Hotch
'You're smiling,' Rossi observes.
'Am I?' You make a show of sounding ambivalent, as if you hadn't even realized the fact. But it's true – you hadn't realized. Something in your life must be going right if you're smiling without provocation.
'I haven't seen you smile like that in over ten years,' he jokes. You know he's catching on. You don't say anything. He knows that if you want to talk about it, you will. But you know that that isn't going to stop him. He'll find out if he really wants to.
When he does – and it's definitely a when – you'll ask him to keep it to himself. To let you keep that quasi-dichotomy.
Because the dichotomy is all you've got left.
