From now on, chapters will no longer be divided by point of view because it does no longer work that well with the overall story. Hotch and Pippa were the only POV characters in the first chapters, that will change from now on because they are both members of a team now, first and foremost. I'm trying to establish my OC as a member of the team and create a frame narrative for this team because I don't want to simply recount the cases from the show. This is a very slow burn but we're in for some more Hotch romance in the next chapters! As I said, there will be NSFW warnings for more explicit chapters.
Please be so kind and leave a review. It means a lot to me. I appreciate criticism!
Chapter Four: The Puppeteer
"The consequences of our actions take hold of us, quite indifferent to our claim that meanwhile we have improved." - Friedrich Nietzsche
~o~
Pippa was getting along with the squad quite well. Sure, they weren't friends. But they were friendly, at least. It was even going well with Hotchner. Yes, somehow, things had started falling into place. And although the job was tough, both physically and mentally, she found it rewarding. At least most of the time.
"Hale?" Hotchner called her.
"Yes, sir?"
"My office, please."
She had thought about this now and then, about being alone with him once again. And although the thought made her stomach flutter, she was certain that it were only her nerves. There was nothing else, after all. They had been extremely professional ever since. No room for misunderstandings.
So Pippa made her way to her boss's office.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, please, sit down."
"Thank you, sir."
"Are you familiar with Julian Barnes' case?"
She was not. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not."
"He is a serial rapist. He was never a BAU case. Barnes is still in prison. Recently, his supposed victims have come forward one by one, saying they lied under pressure from his first victim, Katherine Turner, who is now under scrutiny. Barnes always pleaded 'not guilty'." Hotchner hesitated. "I was the prosecutor back then. Ten years ago."
"Ah." What did this have to do with her?
"The state of Missouri wants the BAU to make an assessment. With evidence as it is, it is likely that Barnes will be released within the next week. Still, a profile might change their mind." Hotchner seemed convinced of Barnes' guilt. But he was no longer a lawyer. His duty was to the truth, not the state.
"If we find that he fits the profile of a serial rapist."
"Of course." He paused. "Agent Hale, forensic psychology is your specialty. You have worked in this field for some years. I trust you to make the right call."
"Thank you, sir."
"You will take the jet to Missouri as soon as you are ready."
"Alone?"
"For now." He pressed his lips together. "We simply don't have the budget to focus on this profile with all our manpower."
"Understood. I'll get my bag, then."
"JJ will mail you the details."
It was strange to be all alone in the jet. It would go back to Virginia as soon as Pippa had conducted the interview. So much for stopping global warming.
Pippa busied herself with the old files. She found some notes Hotch had made ten years ago, then as a prosecutor. Jason Gideon had been a witness in the case, one of the first profilers in the United States. The man was a genius. It was almost impossible that he was wrong. Sure, there had been that sorry business with the bomber some years ago. But Gideon was the sharpest tool in the box. She didn't read his profile, she needed to keep an open mind. She would meet Barnes at the state prison in an hour. Afterwards, she would read what Gideon had written about the man.
She was used to travelling alone although she almost missed Reid and his portable chessboard, Emily, usually up for a chat, Morgan with his headphones on, JJ taking a nap on the sofa, Rossi snoring audibly in a corner, Hotchner typing on his laptop. It was silent in the jet now. She wouldn't have thought she'd miss company one day.
~o~
An officer was already waiting at the airport when she landed.
"Agent Hale?"
"Yes."
"I am Officer Jenna Lovecraft. I am here to escort you to your interview with Julian Barnes."
"Thank you."
Officer Lovecraft didn't talk, apparently quite focussed on driving, and Pippa was soon led into a small interrogation room with yellow walls and grey linoleum flooring.
Then the prisoner was brought in. Barnes was a man of middling height, but heavy-set and with the unmistakable air of a brute. Even the way he walked was too forceful, as if he kicked the floor with every step. His face was plain but not ugly, the kind of face that was easily forgettable, unremarkable if it weren't for the eyes. Blue eyes that looked at Pippa with unveiled interest and hunger. She squared her shoulders.
"There is no need for those," Pippa motioned towards the handcuffs. "You are right outside, aren't you?"
The guards nodded.
"Please, Mr Barnes, sit down." Pippa waited for the guards to close the door behind her. "You know why I'm here?"
"For a psychological evaluation." His smile was probably meant to be pleasant.
"Exactly. So, Mr Barnes, five of six women have come forward and claimed that you weren't the man that raped them ten years ago. Do you know why?"
"Well, I guess you can only live so long with a bad conscience." He smiled again. An arrogant smile. That alone was no evidence, of course.
"All five women decide to ease their consciences at the same time?"
"You know how it is with things like this. One of them breaks, the rest follows. Like domino stones." This was a game for him. The women merely pieces. And somehow, he was the player.
"Yes, I understand. So, you still maintain that you are innocent?"
"Unjustly imprisoned for nine years and two-hundred-ninety-eight days."
He was acting. From the overly accurate number to the stress on 'unjustly'. This man did his best to mime the innocent. A true innocent would be angry, perhaps, broken or cynical. Not like this. Barnes was in charge, or at least he felt he was.
"There was evidence that suggested you were guilty."
"It were the testimonies that doomed me. Evidence is something you cops carry around in little plastic bags. Cigarette buds and jewelry. Nothing but straws."
"So, if it wasn't you, who raped those women?"
"Well, no one, apparently. Just some lying women, eager for a moment in the spotlight."
"Your first victim, Katherine Turner, still swears that it was you who raped her."
"I don't know why she's lying. All the other women said Katherine had persuaded, even forced them to accuse me of rape. Perhaps she was in love with me? Unrequited love can be cruel. If they thought I was guilty, you wouldn't be here, would you?"
"Who is 'they', Mr Barnes?"
"The law. Cops, lawyers, agents." He was proud that he had managed to deceive the entire department of justice. Although, he wasn't free yet.
"Haven't you seen the protesters, agent? 'Freedom for Barnes'. I hear them every morning when I take a walk in the yard." Perverse pleasure.
"I haven't, no."
"Well, you will hear them sooner or later."
Pippa wondered why he was so certain he'd be released.
"Does this make you proud?"
"If you ask whether justice makes me proud, yes, it does. America is a country where there is still a very clear distinction between right and wrong, where even the justice system is criminally liable. Yes, Agent Montmorency, I am proud. And I am looking forward to becoming a member of this society once again."
Montmorency. He couldn't know that unless one of the guards had let him know. And if the guards were in league with him…
Pippa scribbled down a note.
"Well, Mr Barnes, that was quite enlightening. You seem ready to reintegrate."
"I am."
"Thank you for the interview."
"No, agent." His voice sent shivers down her spine. "Thank you."
Pippa knocked at the door.
She shouldn't have allowed Barnes to take off the handcuffs. But that was the only way to create the eye-to-eye relationship she needed for a thorough interview.
No one opened. She knocked again.
"It's funny, sometimes," Barnes smiled. "They seem to be selectively deaf. They never heard when I was beaten up, either."
He rose from his chair.
Barnes was over 6 ft tall and heavy. Pippa had trained, of course she had, but this fight would not necessarily end well for her.
She shouldered her bag to free her hands.
"I'm sorry you were mistreated in prison."
"Of course you are."
Barnes stood seven feet away from Pippa, arms hanging down. Relaxed, at least superficially. But underneath, he was tense. All his victims had been redheads, Pippa remembered. Hotchner hadn't sent her here only for her expertise.
Barnes walked towards her in slow, controlled steps. Then he reached out. Pippa braced herself – but then Barnes knocked on the metal door. Four knocks. Then a fifth, half a heartbeat later.
The metal door opened.
"I knocked earlier." Pippa told the guards, trying to take in as much of their appearance as possible.
"Sorry, ma'am." One of them said casually. "We didn't hear you."
Why had they opened the door now then? Four knocks, break, fifth knock. A secret knock. If Barnes had infiltrated this prison, and that seemed more and more probable, Pippa needed to know how. And she needed to get out of here as soon as possible.
"Please," Barnes smiled, "Give my regards to Agent Hotchner. I heard he climbed the career ladder rather rapidly."
She gave him a nondescript smile. "Good luck, Mr Barnes."
"Luck is for fools."
Pippa was too controlled to allow her fear to take over her body. She was hyper-aware of her surroundings as she left the prison and even declined Officer Lovecraft's offer to take her back to the airport, choosing a cab instead. If the prison had fallen to Barnes, there was the possibility that parts of the police had, too. She just had to find out how.
"I'll send my evaluation to the judge as soon as possible."
"Of course." Lovecraft didn't seem particularly bothered. Was all of this a masquerade? And what role was she playing? Not me. Us, Pippa corrected herself. Somehow, this was also about the BAU, about Hotchner. And she would work her hardest to find out how.
Back at the BAU, Hotchner immediately asked her to see him in his office.
"How was the interview?" He was tense.
"Difficult. You were right. Barnes has raped these women. Somehow, he pressured them into rescinding the testimony. I just don't understand how. He has no money, no important contacts on the outside." She didn't tell him about the guards just yet. She might have been wrong, after all.
"Have you written the profile?"
"It's already with the judge. I sent it right away and his secretary confirmed it. I was very clear. If the judge isn't bought, he will not allow Barnes' release."
"And if he does?" Hotch gave her one of his "our-job-is-so-tough" looks, lips pressed together, eyebrows knitted, eyes sorrowful.
"Then we'll have a new case."
~o~
"We've got a new case." JJ had stormed in with a stack of files in her arms.
"Where?" Hotchner asked, almost tentatively.
"Newton, Missouri."
Pippa covered her eyes with her hand. "I failed."
Hotchner looked at her. "No. Your profile was accurate. It was the judge who failed. And now, a serial rapist is on the run."
"Only he is no longer only a rapist." Pippa said. JJ hadn't said it yet, but she knew that Barnes had murdered this time.
"No. He killed two young women. Raped them, then stabbed them in the abdomen and left them behind to bleed out." JJ admitted.
"He told me to give you his regards, sir. He knew my family name. He knew you had quickly risen through the ranks of the FBI, sir." If they wanted to catch him, the whole team needed all the information Pippa could give.
The team seemed surprised by this revelation.
"He has someone on the inside," Derek said.
"It's more than that. I was in the interrogation room with Barnes. I told the guards to take off the handcuffs."
"You did what?" Hotch turned around abruptly.
"Agent Gideon recommends this to establish a relationship of trust, sir," Pippa said, feeling the need to defend herself.
"We'll talk about this later, agent. What happened then?"
"The guards didn't open the door. Barnes knew they wouldn't. He used the time alone with me to intimidate me, to show off the power he had. Then he released me. I'm the pigeon. I'm carrying the message."
"Which is that Barnes now has powerful friends. That we will never catch him," Morgan's face was grim.
"I just don't understand how. He is not exceptionally intelligent, he has no money, no way to act on potential pressure points," Emily was clicking her pen again and again, a sure sign of her nervousness.
"He has an accomplice," Morgan said. But Pippa remembered the prison, the guards, the police officer.
"No. If you'd been there...He knew he had absolute power there. That wasn't just one friend outside. He has a sponsor. A guardian. A fan."
"It is him we have to get a hold of then." Rossi nodded.
"A phantom. We need to catch Barnes. And soon." Hotch placed the file back on the table.
His movements were controlled, slow, few people could have guessed that below this perfect facade, he was burning with rage. Barnes had been one of his firsts, he remembered. A terrible person. And he had let Hale go to him alone. And she had allowed for him to be uncuffed. Some people would say that nothing had happened, but those people were wrong. Barnes had seen them defenseless, and worse, whoever Barnes' sponsor was, had seen it, too. And if Hale was right about this, then this sponsor had a loftier goal than just the release of some narrow-minded serial rapist. This sponsor flexed his power. And there was not the shadow of a doubt whom he wanted to intimidate. Hotch's gaze fell on Pippa. Some strands of her red hair had escaped her otherwise neat bun. The polish on her nails was chipped. There were bite marks on her lower lip. She was nervous.
Pippa was more than nervous. She had been worrying for some time now, and now, Barnes had raped, he had murdered. And although she had known it would happen, she hadn't done anything about it.
These women's deaths were on her.
JJ came in and her face spoke volumes. "Three new victims."
"First two, now three." Emily chewed on her nails. "He has a pattern."
"Who is the first victim, then?" JJ asked. "Have we not found her yet?"
"He sees Hale as his first victim. The first violation." Rossi said. Pippa swallowed. If Rossi was right, and he tended to be, this meant Barnes would go after her, too.
Hotchner's lips grew thin. "We will catch him. Wheels up in twenty. JJ, you will brief us in the jet."
Hotch was rummaging through his bag, trying to think of everything but he was distracted. He had sent Hale there, all on her own, because of budget issues. And worse, whoever their invisible foe was, he had foreseen that. Hotch had fancied himself clever when he had chosen Hale. She was Barnes' type. He had hoped that she would be able to provoke him. Instead, he had led a lamb to the slaughter. For if Barnes had wanted her dead, she would be. Instead, he had sent her back, a living message. Hale had been right: She was the messenger. He didn't want to think about any other possible outcomes. He didn't want to think about the obsession of serial rapists, about their devotion to detail and completeness. 'He sees Hale as his first victim.' Yes, and he would try to claim her. And why the hell had she allowed them to take off the handcuffs? He could have killed her with handcuffs on, too. And she had been right. It was usually done that way. Their enemy had insights into the machinations of the BAU, into profiling techniques. This was a mess and he had no idea how to clean it.
On the plane, the team discussed the recent murders, trying to predict what Barnes would do next, who his next victims would be.
"The women don't fit the profile," Reid stated.
"How?"
"Not one of them had red hair."
"He's changing his M.O. Why?" Derek asked.
"To taunt us." Emily supplied, but it was more than that.
"He already has his eyes set on the ultimate victim." Rossi looked at Pippa.
"It is highly unusual for serial offenders the change the M.O. Usually, there is a stressor involved."
"It's probably the sponsor's intervention that made him change," Emily suggested but Rossi shook his head.
"More probably it's his imprisonment. He was punished for his crimes, probably scorned and assaulted, too."
"He did say he was beaten in prison," Pippa remembered.
"It's still a long shot but we should also consider creating a profile for the unknown sponsor."
"We dn't even know for ertain that he exists," Rossi argued.
"Well, it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it, right?" Emily had set down the file. "If he's capable of reaching Barnes in prison, if he's capable to buy off guards and perhaps even police officers, he has to be wealthy. He has to have a certain influence."
"His deeds so far suggest a narcissistic personality disorder, a power complex, and some sort of traumatic experience with law enforcement."
"That's all of our perps," Derek argued rightfully. "We need much more than that."
But they didn't have much more. Not yet. Hopefully, they would be able to catch Barnes alive.
~o~
The precinct in Newton, Missouri, Barnes' hometown, was small and they had no time to lose. They had to start investigating right away: Find out who Barnes was. The profile was key, they all knew. The profile would save lives.
Hotch knew they had to split up but he was not willing to take any risks, not again.
"Hale, with me." She was the most recent member. The most inexperienced. The weak link. And she was probably Barnes' final target. She needed protection. And Hotch trusted no one more than himself.
They visited the victims who still lived in Newton, their families, witnesses, former friends of Barnes, always looking over their shoulder. Their interviews yielded little of significance and time was running out.
"You'll stay at the precinct," Hotch told Pippa in a voice that tolerated no dissent.
"Sir," she tried, despite that, but her broke her off immediately.
"This is a direct order, agent. You will stay here. You will not go anywhere alone. You will not go with any police officer. Morgan, Prentiss, you keep an eye on her. Work on the profile. Kep us posted."
And off they were, though not for long. No one had seen Barnes and all their leads had been dead ends. Meanwhile, Prentiss, Morgan and Pippa had worked on the victimology. And Prentiss had found something.
"He's not going for Pippa," Emily said, her voice grave. "Katherine Turner has a sister. Emma."
"A quiet girl." Reid knew what Emily was getting at.
"Quiet ever since Katherine's been raped."
"A redhead," Rossi reminded them.
"Katherine's hair is dyed. Emma is a natural redhead. For Barnes, that matters. Pippa isn't the ultimate victim. Neither is Katherine Turner." JJ's gaze had gone to Pippa for a split second, now she looked at Hotchner again.
"We need to find Emma Turner, now," he said.
"She has an apartment close to her parents' home," Garcia supplied when Hotch called her on the way to the cars. "Dawson Street 21."
The drive seemed endless. Dawson Street was a narrow avenue, lined by trees, with small houses and large gardens. An anonymous neighbourhood where no one talked and no one said hello. Barnes could very well be done with Emma already, Pippa thought. Emily fidgeted in her seat, Derek was drumming against the window with his fingers. Only Hotch was like a statue behind the steering wheel.
Underneath Hotch's cool exterior, he was tense, however. Barnes had escaped him once, when he had been able to leave prison as if it had been a holiday home. Now, they had hard evidence for his involvement, however. Witnesses, DNA.
"Put down your gun and raise your hands!"
"I don't think so," Barnes said and pulled Emma Turner up an inch by her hair, effectively using her as a shield. She looked sedated, although Pippa knew that it could be pain and degradation and fear that gave her that look.
"If one of you moves, the girl is dead." He smiled.
"We'll catch you eventually," Rossi said, "There's no use in adding another victim to your list."
"Well, it doesn't matter much either, huh? Death row won't get worse if I kill this one, too. I suggest you put your guns down now, or you'll be directly responsible for another murder," he pulled a grimace. "THat wouldn't look for the BAU, would it? You have a terrible statistic anyway."
Reid was the first to put down his weapon, then Emily followed suit. When Rossi put down his gun, Pippa was still weighing her options. If she allowed him to kill Emma Turner, that would be one victim. If she didn't, if she allowed him to escape, how many more would die? But then she looked at the woman's face again and recoiled from herself in shame. A life for a life was too biblical. And slowly, She put her gun on the floor, too.
Only Hotch and Derek remained.
Barnes laughed. "You know, I played a little game with you. On that piece of paper, I wrote down which one of you would put down their weapon first. And I guessed correctly. Dr Spencer Reid was the first, because he thinks that his brain is his better asset. Emily Prentiss, you were second. Not because you abhor violence, like Dr Reid does, but because you can still be just as fatal without a gun. There are too many sickos in terrorism. Then Dave Rossi, because he is so arrogant that he still feels in charge, even after dropping his one means of defense. Pippa Hale, love the name by the way, was struggling. Two years of experience in the job are just not enough, huh? Because logically, pragmatically, it would be better to let poor Emma here bite the dust than risk my escape and probable further murders. But good people don't have thoughts like that, Pippa. So you put down that gun although you know what it means. It will be on all of you. And the last ones standing are Derek Morgan and Aaron Hotchner. One of you thinks violence is the answer, believes in strength and domination, and the other one is just too scared to give up control although his entire life has already slipped through his fingers. Which one is which, huh?"
Barnes laughed again.
"You are a motley group, aren't you. I had hoped your beautiful Jennifer Jareau would have joined us. But she is still telling people that you'll catch me. I wonder, does she believe her own lies? And what about your charming analyst? Can she hear me now? Greetings, Penelope. You're so sweet I might just go for you next."
"You will never get out of here alive, Barnes." Morgan said, weapon still in hand.
"Your sponsor will not protect you," Reid said quietly, "You think so perhaps, but he's looking down upon you. You're a tool."
"He's my friend. And he will always protect me from you."
"You're wrong. He's playing with you. He is a puppeteer. And sooner or later, he will cut your strings."
"Maybe I enjoy dancing to his tune? Maybe I like it, playing his game."
"For now, perhaps. But he will discard you sooner or later in favour of someone else. And that will be cruel."
"More so than death row, I wonder? You need to understand, agents, that there's nothing you could say that he hasn't already prepared me for. So, Aaron, Derek, if you don't put your guns down kindly and kick them over to me, our darling Emma will be the first to go. Perhaps followed by our junior?" He looked at Spencer, "or your loving father, the one you all flock to for advice and consolation?" He looked at Rossi. "Whomever my bullet hits, I guess."
"Down with the gun, Derek." Hotch said after a short pause. And when Morgan had reluctantly put down his gun, he bent down, too, placing his weapon on the floor.
"Good boys, but unfort –"
Hotch had put down his gun and pushed it over to Barnes, but then he had grabbed a second one, strapped to his ankle.
Pippa heard the shot but at first, she couldn't see who was hurt. She looked at her teammates, fear rising in her throat, but then Barnes chuckled. His hand was bleeding, the finger on the trigger was now useless. Hotch had shot right through his palm, hitting the tendon that connected Barnes' index finger to his palm.
"Not bad, captain," Barnes said, while Emily pulled Emma away from him and Derek clasped the steel handcuffs around his wrists. "There is a reason why you're the unit leader, then. My boss was right."
"We'll talk about your boss later, Barnes," Rossi said although he knew that there would be no later. Showing him his own insignificance would prompt him to reveal more than he should.
"He loves to see you dance, you know? The FBI's favourite nerds. Jet-setting from one crime scene to the next. Always together. No secrets, one would think. But the boss knows there are plenty."
For a moment, Pippa thought, Barnes was looking at her, standing next to Hotch, but then he was sneering at Rossi again and she thought she might've been wrong.
"Professional liars, all of you. It is a sick social experiment, huh? No one to trust, no one to turn to. A group of loners, of freaks, of psychooooos." He dragged the vowel. "He's a fan of yours, you know? Keeping tabs on you. All of you."
Now he turned to Pippa.
"He wants me to tell you how happy he is your application was finally accepted. You're a fresh face. You add a little drama. Mr Gory values dram –"
Blood dripped from Barnes' brow.
"A sniper!" Hotch shouted. "Everybody down."
But his warning was unnecessary, everyone was already on the floor. Pippa's cheek was pressed into the grovel, her eyes kept searching the surrounding trees, the dark windows of the houses around. Wherever the snipe had been, he was gone now, she thought. This sponsor had taken out Barnes for revealing too much. Gory. They had a name, fake as it was. And they knew more. A fanatic. Obsessed with them. She pushed away the fear that had started to cloud her thoughts, asking only one question: What did he know? Quite obviously, Gory wanted just that. Why else had he talked about their secrets. And suddenly, she became aware that Hotchner and her weren't the only ones who were hiding something. They all were. Perhaps something insignificant, perhaps something they would be kicked off the team for, perhaps worse. And now, the nagging question would infest a small, hidden corner of their minds, asking What are they hiding? Sowing mistrust was easy. Gaining trust was hard.
She was still thinking about this when the jet took off, leaving Newton, Missouri below them.
"You did well," Rossi said. He sat opposite her and had apparently been looking at her for some time.
"Excuse me?"
"It's not your fault that those five women died. Your profile was dead on. There's nothing either of us could have done."
"It's not that, is it?" Derek asked from across the aisle. "It's what Barnes said about secrets. Our secrets. You're thinking about the things you're hiding. The things we're hiding."
Emily looked at her hands, Reid knocked over a chess piece, Hotch's fast typing slowed, JJ went through a stack of papers too frantically.
"Don't worry. We all do." Derek's smile was sad.
Then, Rossi cleared his throat.
"You are idiots. All of you. Yes, there's a freak out there who has an unhealthy interest in our business. And yes, he might have some dirt on you. But we are a team of profilers. Professional liars, he said. And what are we good at? Detecting lies. Seeing the heart of a person. I look at you, all of you, and I see good-hearted people. We all have our flaws, our secrets, dark secrets, perhaps. But we can trust in one thing: Each other. We will always have each other's backs." Rossi looked at Pippa. "No matter how long you've been on the team," he added.
"Well roared," Derek smiled.
"Yeah, you really are our dad," Emily grinned. "Quite the pep talk."
They both liked to gloss over uncomfortable situations with humour, as if sarcasm fixed their growing anxiety. Reid busied himself with his figurines but smiled at their jokes. Hotch's fingers had picked up their old pace again, JJ sifted through her papers, though she, too, was smiling. Pippa started reading, a novel, this time, though she couldn't focus. Someone was after them. They were not in immediate danger, she knew, at least not for now. He enjoyed watching them. But how many other criminals would he encourage, fund, and dispose of? We'll be there. They would take care of them. And they would find Gory, too. It was only a matter of time. Pippa looked up and her eyes met Aaron's, pardon, Agent Hotchner's. For a split second, there was a longing in his gaze, then he tore away his eyes from her and looked down at his laptop again.
The bubbly sensation in her stomach didn't subside, however, and from under her lashes she looked at Hotchner from time to time. His face was tense, he looked highly concentrated. Pippa noticed the way he knit his brows whenever he briefly paused, apparently thinking about how to go on, she noticed his five o'clock shadow, the fine lines around his mouth that suggested that he perhaps did smile sometimes, the lines on his forehead that suggested he frowned more often. His eyes were a very soft brown, framed by dark lashes. He looked tired, she thought, with a strange sympathy. Unit Chief was probably a very time-consuming job, not to mention the pressure and scrutiny he was under. Once again, Hotchner raised his eyes but Pippa looked back at her book in time, heart aflutter.
This had to stop. It had been a one night stand. A good one, perhaps, but it hadn't been personal. She didn't even know the man. A certain physical attraction couldn't be argued away but she was better than that. A professional. And quite evidently, so was Hotchner. This wasn't the place for fluttering hearts, furtive glances, and far too detail-oriented observations. Emily had told her that they had made it a rule never to profile their team members. With Gory's words in mind now, that would be a difficult rule to adhere to, anyway. There was no room for attraction in a workplace. He was her boss and terribly professional himself. He had probably banned every memory of their first encounter from his mind. And she would do the same.