Tags to episodes 10x10: Amelia Porter and 10x11: The Forever People.
Shoutout to GhostWhispererFangirl, Hell of a hound and Ramona.
To guest: this is fanfiction, did you somehow miss that?
Kate did a good day's work.
She held that tight in her hand as she walked back into the station, and watched the reunion that took place.
Then she looked up, to where Reid was standing, and she felt something tighten inside her chest.
Was she going to lose this? No matter what Hotch said, something else always managed to happen between them. She always managed to insult him, she always managed to make everything worse.
But Hotch...
She flinched as she remembered his words about the hickey, but suddenly, all she could remember was the look in his eyes.
It kept her up at night, remembering the encounter and trying to figure Hotch out. Because what she'd seen in his eyes was, inexplicably, hurt.
Hotch took Rossi's offer. "I'd like to go," he said, and he went.
He met Celine and Audrey. He flirted a bit.
But at the end of the night, he went home.
Jack was at Jessica's until tomorrow, and he found himself in an empty house. He considered doing a lot of things, but ended up in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and remembering the look on Kate's face when he'd said those words.
Shock. Utter shock that he would be so unprofessional.
And there had been so many chances to make it right, to tell her he'd been having a bad day, and her sex life was none of his damn business.
But oh, God, he wanted it to be his business.
The thought flashed through his mind, forcing him to recognize the truth in it, and finally he let himself turn to more pleasant thoughts of Kate.
And finally, he fell asleep. And finally, he dreamed.
Kate was present, and wearing the usual skimpy outfit she did in these dreams: a bustier with a top hat or suit jacket.
She was in the BAU bullpen, and no one but Hotch was noticing how inappropriately she was dressed. She was talking to Reid, to Morgan and JJ, and everyone acted like it was normal.
So he called her to his office, and she came quickly, a smile on her face.
He was going to scold her, but the pure happiness she held at being summoned by him froze the words in his throat.
"What are you wearing?" He finally rasped, and he remembered her answer long after she said it:
"Only what you want to be wearing."
And then the bustier dropped to the floor, and Hotch lost it.
He woke up the next morning, wishing he hadn't. Another dream had followed the first, one even better.
It was hard to drag himself from the bed, hard to take the shower that started the real waking up process, and harder to make the coffee that immediately perked up his brain and made him ready to leave the apartment.
He packed a lunch and put his jacket on, smoothing the collar before picking up his briefcase and lunch box. After looking at the weather outside, he grabbed his raincoat and headed out, taking the elevator and jogging through the light rain to his car.
Which had been rammed. He stopped stock still, looking at his 2012 Ford Taurus in disbelief. Sabotage. Scare tactics. Did he have a stalker?
What the hell?
His phone rang and he picked up on the first ring. "Hotch? This is Garcia, which I'm sure you could probably tell, but maybe you couldn't and it's polite to introduce oneself when one calls another on the phone."
"Garcia, do you have a point you are getting to?"
"Yes, I do, sir. We have a case. Almost everyone is here but you." She rushed.
"Unfortunately that's not going to change," Hotch answered. "My car has been rammed, and it's going to be impossible to get a taxi in this rain. From prior experience, if I call one, it'll take up to forty minutes before there's one available."
"Your car was what?" Garcia said. "You know what? Never mind. I just switched into business mode, Bossman. I am already on it. I'm sending someone...now. They'll be there in five minutes, or less, depending on traffic and how daring a driver Kate Callahan is. I wouldn't know, I've never ridden with her."
"You're sending who?" Hotch asked, the shock reverberating down the phone line.
"Kate," Garcia replied, her voice cautious and confused. "She wasn't here yet either. She's picking you up on her way there. It makes the most sense, sir."
"Yes, I know, never mind," Hotch said and hung up.
Kate wasn't there yet?
She must have had another late night with Paul, a sly voice inside his voice whispered. He flinched and tried to shake off the idea but it stuck in his mind, haunting him.
When Kate got the call that Hotch needed a ride, she froze in traffic for a moment, until the car behind honked loudly and she slammed her foot onto the gas pedal, weaving through traffic.
It was her job, it was her boss. Of course she had to get him, and quickly. Garcia said they had something, so she should hurry.
She cut off a cab driver and was soundly honked at, but didn't mind as she sped through traffic, surprising herself at the ease with which she recalled the route to Hotch's apartment.
She took a sharp left turn, got honked at again, and sped down until she was outside of Hotch's apartment building, where she pulled over and let the engine idle while she pulled her phone out to text him.
As she typed out the words, I'm here in front., a knock at her window startled her and she unlocked the doors to let Hotch in.
"Sorry about that," she said, injecting a casual tone into her voice. "I was just about to text you. I didn't realize you'd be waiting."
"Garcia brought up the possibility that you were a fast driver," Hotch said. "I came outside to wait, rain or not."
"Your hair is wet," Kate reflected, and leaned over him to open the glove compartment. She wasn't sure whether she actually heard it, but it sounded like he hissed when she did so.
Her breasts accidentally brushed his knees on the way back, and she suddenly realized why he'd hissed. Any woman leaning onto his lap might make him...react.
"Sorry," she said again, handing him the towel she'd retrieved from the glove compartment and pulling away from the curb. "Have you called for a tow truck yet?"
"Yes," Hotch said. "And now I'm phoning Anderson, so he can investigate what happened here. If we're going to be flying out..."
"Understood," Kate said. "We can't very well handle it ourselves." Forgetting, she shot him a grin and saw how startled he looked when she did so.
God, she hated fighting with him. So why did she keep doing so? Especially when Hotch's intent had been to praise her.
God, how immature was she? Just because she remembered Agent March, that was an excuse for her to snap like that, and to cuss her boss out?
There was no excuse, she reflected, weaving through traffic at a breakneck speed.
"We're not in that much of a hurry," Hotch said. "You don't actually have to drive like a getaway driver."
Kate laughed. "That's a compliment," she said. "Sorry, my majority of driving experience is from Texas. Everyone drives like bats out of hell there."
"Texas?" Hotch asked.
"I had an early assignment there," she said, switching lanes. "About six months total, and most of it was spent driving, all over the place, and mostly on highways. After a point, I saw no excuse to drive slowly. There, on a highway with an 80 speed limit, people would do 100."
"Including you?" Hotch asked, amused.
"Including the majority of cop cars I'd see," she said. "You've been to Texas. You never noticed the fast pace?"
"I did, but I never tried to emulate it," he replied, and fell silent again. An awkwardness settled over the car.
Kate wanted to say something; she desperately wanted to apologize. They were approaching the FBI buildings at Quantico, and she slowed at the gate.
They showed their badges and were allowed access.
Kate pulled into the parking garage, and found a space, then let the engine idle for a moment before looking over at Hotch, who was waiting for her to turn the engine off.
He was staring straight ahead, a stiffness to his demeanor that she recognized.
So she decided to not say anything, opened the door and got out.
A/N: I will try to update sooner than I did last time. So glad y'all are enjoying this! Oh, and I mean to directly bridge on from this chapter to the next.