Note: This is a definite Hotch/ OC story so if you don't like that, I guess, you won't like this. But I will say that this story is a lot more fun to read when listening to Woman by Wolfmother or to Barracuda by Heart. Just trust me on this. Anyway, I hope you have as much fun reading this one as I did writing it.

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Elowyn refused to say that bar brawls were a regular occurrence in her life. But she also couldn't say that she was unfamiliar with the concept of one. The one thing she knew for sure: this was Reid's fault.

The good doctor had chosen the middle-of-nowhere New Mexico to need the bathroom. Hotch pulled into the first place he saw- Red's Nest Bar, which was just as seedy as it sounded. She, Hotch, and Reid were the only ones to go in while the rest of the team stayed in the Suburban with the air conditioning cranked on high.

Elle drifted to the bar's corner, fiddling with the jukebox which contained stacks of the 70s and 80s hair metal's greatest hits. She was deciding between Jimi Hendrix and Zeppelin when an argument to the right caught her attention. Her eyes darted to the side, the bright pink and blue neon signs behind the bar reflecting off her white shirt.

"I thought I told you I didn't want you seein' him n'more," a man with a ponytail growled, his chunky fingers wrapping around the female bartender's arm.

She tried to wrench herself away from him, but his grip tightened, pulling her more tightly against the bar. "Yeesh, I told you, Knox, he comes in here and orders a beer. He don't ever do nothing. I don't know why you're bein' so-"

Knox's hand released the woman's arm, instead roughly latching onto her bright red ponytail.

He sneered, "I'll tell you why-"

Elle had already pushed herself away from the jukebox and marched across the room's length. Her face pulled into a scowl that firmly resembled her unit chief. "Hey!" she called out. "Let her go. Now,"

A few men looked up from the pool tables.

Knox's head whipped around with black greasy curls swaying at the movement. "What's it to you? Shove off, nosy bitch." he pushed away the bartender, and the woman's hand went to her head. His eyes settled on his new target.

Elle stood alongside the bar. She reached into her pocket, retrieving a black leather case and flipping it open revealing her FBI ID. "That's Special Agent Nosy Bitch to you,"

She knew she should have seen it coming before it happened. She saw the way his head leaned back and his mouth opened. She felt the thick glob of spit land against her cheek. The echo of the billiards slamming against one another was the only sound for a long moment as the jukebox changed records. She thought she faintly heard Reid say her name. A familiar guitar riff began as a single thought pervaded her mind.

Four seconds… that's all I need.

"Four seconds," she muttered behind clenched teeth as she wiped the spit from her cheek.

Knox laughed heartily, throwing his head back, taking his eyes away from her small form. His mistake.

One…

She shoved her palm onto his nose, and he stumbled with a steady stream of blood rolling down his face. She brought her hands back, slamming them against his ears.

Two…

Her Oxford heel came down against the inside of his knee. She grabbed the handcuffs on her belt as he collapsed.

Three…

She swung her leg over his hunched form, shoving her knee into his back, forcing him all the way to the ground. She clicked the handcuffs onto his wrists. He groaned when the metal pinched his wrist.

"You're under arrest for the assault of a federal officer," she hissed.

Four…

Her eyes darted up even as she pushed her knee further into his back when he tried to move. All eyes in the bar were on her. She snapped Knox's cuffs against the metal pole on the bottom of the bar before slowly rising to her feet. She didn't recognize her own voice when she said,

"Anyone else got a problem?"

Even though Doctor Reid was not the one who swung the pool stick at her face, this was still definitely all his fault.

-O-

Elowyn had no idea how she ended up on top of the bar, running and jumping over brawling men. She tasted blood in her mouth from catching a lucky hit from the biker prostrate under the bar. She hoped she still had all her teeth.

As she jumped from the bar, shoving an enormous man off Reid, she was glad she had decided to wear slacks. She grabbed Reid by the shoulders, yelling over the cacophony.

"Go get Rossi!"

He nodded, his gangly frame sprinting out the door.

A crash behind her had her spinning around while also sidestepping around two hairpulling women. She was greeted with the sight of the normally stoic SSAIC Aaron Hotchner tossing a man over the pool table before ducking the impending blow of someone behind him. Sometime during the fight, Hotch lost his suit coat and tie, and Elle was not complaining. This was a dream, right? Because she knew that her boss was not making a bar fight look sexy. His jaw bulged from being clenched so tightly.

Damn…

He grabbed another man by the collar of his leather vest, slamming him down against the pool table.

She ducked when someone threw an 8-ball rack at her head.

-O-

Elle climbed back into the Suburban with a groan. Their five-minute bathroom break had turned into a five-hour experience. The sun was descending into the sky while police lights flashed against the bar's walls. She slid into the passenger seat, waiting for Hotch to climb back into the driver's seat. She pushed her ice pack back against her bruised knuckles. She glanced at Hotch; his right eye was red and swollen. He would be sporting a hell of a shiner in the morning. She was just glad that she kept all her teeth. Hotch had been kind enough to check for her.

Morgan shook his head. "What the hell, guys? What happened?"

Prentiss pouted because she had missed out on the fun while Rossi looked resigned, pressing a hand against his head.

Elle settled into her seat, turning the air conditioner on high while Hotch started the car, yanking the gear into reverse.

"Let me know when you want a turn with the ice pack," Elle told Hotch.

JJ leaned forward, coming between Elle and Hotch against the center console. "Seriously, what happened? That sheriff was majorly pissed,"

Reid chimed in, "Probably because Elle arrested his brother-in-law,"

"Hey! He started it," she pressed the ice pack into Hotch's hand. He lifted the Ziploc bag of ice to his eye, casting her an unimpressed glare with no real malice behind it. "Reid's fault anyway,"

Silence for a moment, then, "Wait. My fault!?"