Army of One

Full Summary-With a B.A.U member back from the dead, shifting team responsibilities, and fractured trusts, a case consultant with ulterior motives is the last thing the B.A.U need to deal with. A consultant whom has lived a dark lifestyle, suffered its consequences, and knows that working with the police could cost them more than they could ever imagine. Especially while working on an ongoing case with a slowly uncovered pattern of bank robbery related deaths. With a collective knowledge of the streets, and the battles brought closer to home than before, the B.A.U. must learn to rebuild their family, and trust someone who believes that going it alone is what has kept them safe. So far.

Rated: T

ONE

Aaron Hotchner needed a drink.

Whether it was a warm, inviting cup of freshly brewed coffee at the beginning of what was bound to be a long day, or a crisp, hard beer after a challenging case, it was one of the first thoughts that would cross his mind. Of course, his son was always at the forefront of his thoughts. Jack was the first person he thought of when he woke up, and the last person Hotch thought of before going to sleep. He did, and would do, everything for his son. Even if that meant being away from him for days at a time. The more Jack grew up, and the more life events that were missed, the more guilty Hotch felt.

If keeping everybody in the country safe meant that he was keeping his son safe, then he would his job to the best of his ability. His job was an important part of society and he took it seriously. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. Before he had even joined the FBI, as he worked as a district attorney, he would spend hours poring over case files, preparing himself for trials to the detriment of his family. It was normal for him, after all, he saw his father do the exact same thing.

Hotch knew his family was getting the short end of the string regarding himself and his time. The B.A.U was his family. If there was anyone in his life that he knew undoubtedly had his back the moment he stepped out his front door, it was his team. Even he couldn't dispute this work-family saw him a lot more than his real family did at times. It was why he enjoyed his days off so much. For a moment, he could put 100% of his focus on his family. As best he could. Crime didn't stop just because he had a full twenty-four hours without carrying his badge on him. That much he witnessed firsthand.

Shaking his head sharply, Hotch stopped the intrusive thoughts from rearing its ugly head once again. He needed to keep his mind on the job. One small slip and terrible things could happen. Allowing a sigh to push past his lips, expelling all the negative thoughts, he set his mind back on the task. He was in a coffee shop. He was on a case. He needed to act natural and do what he needed to do to get information.

There were other reasons for a trip out to the local bar, or coffee shop, as well. His phone ringing with Erin Strauss on the other line was the most frequent reason. But there were others. Trying to slap away the heavy weight of exhaustion in order to charge into the next case full alert was a given. Squashing homesickness and guilt over having to miss another day in Jack's life went without saying.

But today, it was all part of the case.

The door to the coffee shop swung open with ease, a chime sounding as they crossed the threshold. As he and Dr. Spencer Reid stepped through the doorway, a blast of cold air smacked them in the face. Hotch pulled his sunglasses from his nose and tucked it into the collar of his shirt, squinting against the ambient light. Reid did the same. The cool building was a nice reprieve from the humid St. Louis air. And it was only ten O'clock in the morning. A storm was bound to blow through sooner rather than later, allowing the bustling city to cool down just a tad. The tension, unfortunately, probably wouldn't die down, even after their success in capturing the student who had been terrorizing the other survivors of the past school shooting.

"I can take you over here." The accented voice was the first thing Hotch noticed. Nothing that stood out, but different than what he was used to hearing back in Virginia. Different from the other voices he could hear in the shop, subtly so. People even said he had an accent from time to time. Being from the East Coast, and his years of training, anything that differed from his normal he would instantly clock on to. Maybe it would be information he needed. Maybe it was just a passing observation as he read the room. Hotch looked past the long line of people and saw a hand waving in the air. Gently nudging Reid on the arm, he made a beeline for the waving hand.

"Ah, you're back." The woman behind the counter regarded them behind a set of glasses. Her lips lifted into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The "customer service" smile. Or maybe it was just the practiced smile suggesting she was trained well for the job but wasn't trying to insinuate anything further. There probably wasn't much of a difference. She was simply being polite. "Didn't think you'd swing back around before your trip was over." Placing her hands on the counter, the woman rapped her knuckles on the top in a short rhythm. "Are you extending or," she chuckled, "do businesses usually schedule free time for their employees on trips like this?"

Hotch allowed a fleeting smile to pass his features. "Not usually."

"Ok, so that's a tall americano for you," the woman shifted her gaze from Hotch to Reid, "and a tall light roast with extra sugar for you."

"Right." Reid nodded. His eyebrows angled towards each other. "How'd you know that?"

"Magic." Hotch watched Reid's eyebrows lift, his lips twitch. A correction was on the tip of his tongue, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. The side of the woman's mouth ticked upwards into a humorless smile. "And you've ordered the same thing every time you've stopped in here." She looked the two men up and down. "And it makes sense." The silence between them was punctuated by the sound of her nail tapping on the touch screen of the register. Hotch handed over cash payment and soon the silence was broken by the sound of the cash drawer popping open, and their receipt printing.

Hotch exchanged glances with Reid, widening his eyes slightly in a poignant stare. Reid cleared his throat and took a small step forward. The extended counter pressed into Reid's stomach. "Um, so, where are some places you like to go around here?" he asked, his words punctuated with "uh" and clearing of his throat. "We've just been wondering…"

The barista didn't answer for a moment. In the silence, she made a half turn to the side and checked to see if any of the additives needed to be replenished. It was an easy question, too. For her. But her answer could hold a lot of weight for himself and Reid. For wherever she mentioned, Hotch would dispatch other members of his team to keep an eye out on her.

Whenever asked by visitors, people always gave answers to places they frequented the most. The places they had the most experience with, and could answer any question, honestly, about the establishment: "Stay away from the special of the day", "I prefer their pies for dessert, but you can't go wrong with a sundae." And it's like what everyone said about travelling: it was always better to ask the locals.

Also, Hotch had to recognize, Reid's question could come off as unwanted attention during an otherwise normal work shift. Inwardly, Hotch cringed. But he knew that Reid could assess the situation and talk his way out of it. No matter how long it took. Outwardly, he kept the same neutral expression on his face.

"I apologize." Reid cleared his throat again. "I know how that sounded. I promise I wasn't asking you out or, or anything."

The woman briefly ticked an eyebrow upwards. Even Hotch had to hold back a scoff. Surely, she had heard a line like that plenty of times during the day. "You're ok, dude. I was just thinking about what's going in town," the woman ripped the receipt out of the machine, holding it out towards the two men, sandwiched between her forefinger and thumb. Hotch took the receipt, quickly glanced "Food truck festival is this weekend; outdoor cinema at the park, that kind of thing." Her eyes shifted to Reid. "And, hey, I think you might like Hudson's down the street."

"Why do you say that?" Reid asked, blinking in surprise at the sudden personal comment.

"It's a game bar." Reid stared at her, mouth opening and closing before he pulled a face. "No, no, a game bar. Old school games; chess, checkers, dominoes, board games. Dungeons and Dragons. Might be up your alley." When she shrugged, Hotch watched her gaze linger for a moment on the bag hanging off his shoulder. "And if not, plenty of places to just sit and read. Library's not too far away, either."

"How'd you know I like to read?"

"You've had your bag packed tight with books for a while, right?" She lifted the hem of her shirt, showing off a round-ish, white outline in her jeans pockets that stood out against the dark wash coloring of the material. Reaching in, she retrieved her phone that was wedged sideways into the space and waved it in the air before putting it back, using her thumb to wedge her phone back into place. "Done this so much with my phone, it stretched the fabric. Your bag did the same." Reid clutched his bag and bent his head to check. Even Hotch looked and he did, indeed, find marks where corners of books stretched the material of Reid's bag to its limit. "And you look like the studious type."

"Oh, thanks," Reid said with a smile.

"Anyway, if you're more into the nightlife," the woman said, crossing her arms to lean against the counter, "there are plenty of bars in town. If you want to watch a game, I'd suggest Tillys; want a more casual place, go to the Tavern, and The Gateway for your younger crowd." She angled her head, eyes shifting past them to the person in line behind them. A silent dismissal. The coffeeshop

Hotch quickly took the hint and thanked her for her time before moving off into the corner to wait for their order to be called. Sliding his hands into his pants pockets, he turned around to face Reid. "What do you think? What did you get from that?"

"Definitely in the age group of bar patrons," Reid replied, using a hand to push his hair back from his face. "About 70% of patrons visit the same type of bars whenever they go out. Anything she just mentioned to us, she has probably frequented herself a time or two." He pushed a breath past his lips, and for a moment they flapped together. "And she wasn't wearing her nametag."

"At least not in a position easily visible to the public," Hotch agreed with a slow nod of his head. "Clearly, she doesn't want anyone to know her name."

"That begs the question does she not want anyone to know her name?" Reid suggested.

"Or someone specifically," Hotch concluded. "Or multiple someones." He pressed his lips together. "Reid, there was a reason why I didn't have Morgan come with me. There's also another reason I didn't have JJ or Prentiss here, either."

Reid's eyebrows came towards each other, a deep frown of thought appearing on his face. Hotch took the time to look around the room, his gaze briefly pausing on just how great the weather was outside. He heard their order called and moved to retrieve their cups of coffee. After deciphering between the two, he lifted his to go cup to his mouth and took a long sip. Holding Reid's coffee out towards him, Hotch waited for the usual glint of understanding to come to the young profiler's eye.

He didn't have to wait long.

"It was us," Reid said, snapping his head upwards. "We've been in here every day. Asking her questions about the city." Hotch licked the remnants of his sip of coffee and continued to wait. "You didn't want Morgan here because he would have flirted with her." Hotch gave a slight nod of his head, agreeing with Reid. "And Prentiss and JJ…" Reid gave himself some more time to think, taking a long sip of his coffee. He lifted his hand to rub his chin as he thought, slowly swallowing. Reid's eyes widened as he looked Hotch in the eye. His lips parted, jaw dropping slightly. "They would have hit it off right away. I mean, there are more and more reports of women being more cruel to other women compared to men, statistically women face more bullying than men, but—"

"Knowing Prentiss and JJ, that's not anything we'd really have to worry about," Hotch replied.

"You wanted her to put her guard up," Reid explained. "Morgan would have turned up his charm, but—"

"Seeing how she was when you made sure she understood that you weren't, in fact, hitting on her," Hotch commented and Reid shifted his weight from foot to foot, "I can only imagine how she'd react if Morgan came along with me. Besides, Morgan's not her type."

"And you think I'm safe," Reid declared.

"I think you were the perfect person for this exact situation," Hotch replied with a slight shake of his head. "We all have our special moments, Reid. You're about her age, non-imposing, and confirmed to her that you like playing chess and reading." Yes, he did know that Reid was the best person for this job. You didn't have to be an FBI profiler to learn things about people just by watching them. And Hotch had seen how any guy who thought he had a chance with this barista attempted to sweet talk her. Even further, he had seen how she handled the situation. "Plus, you regularly carry a gun and your marksmanship over the years has gotten a lot better. Of course, I think you're safe."

Pulling his mouth to the side, Reid followed Hotch to the door. Both men slid their sunglasses down over their noses as they stepped out into the humid air. "Maybe we should have given the iced coffee a second thought," Reid commented, using his free hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. "You think that was enough to go off of?"

"We've managed a lot more with a lot less," Hotch reminded him. Reid hummed in agreement. Coming up to a street corner, Hotch pressed his thumb into the button to change the crosswalk signal. "Reid, if you were told that you were going to be a recipient of a Nobel Peace Prize, who would be the first person you'd tell?"

Reid's lips parted into a smile that lit up his face. "Well, my mom, of course," he replied. "She's always said I'd win it one day." Hearing the sadness suddenly fill Reid's voice, Hotch turned to look at the younger boy, noticing his smile had faded slightly. "But she might not remember it for long."

"But that wouldn't stop you from running to tell her the news first thing."

"No, it wouldn't. Why?"

"When Haley told me that she was pregnant with Jack, I wanted to tell everybody that I was going to be a dad, I was so happy," Hotch explained. "Happy, sad, neutral, frustrated, no matter what happens in our lives, we have people to go tell our news. What do we do after a hard day of work?"

"Go to a bar, or have dinner, gather at Rossi's," Reid replied. He nodded his head, partially to indicate that they had the walk symbol indicating they could cross the street, and to show that he, as usual, had caught on to what Hotch was saying. "She's bound to go out with her friends."

"To one of the places she had just recommended to us," Hotch agreed as they started across the street. "Everybody gravitates to places they feel the most relaxed. The safest. Where you have a great rapport with the staff, or it has the best quality of products. Even we do it; going to Rossi's for the company or to our favorite restaurants, and bars. We got a lot information from her, Reid. Don't worry." He took another sip of coffee and let out a sigh. "She has her guard up, sure, but she'll make a mistake once she feels like she's backed into a corner. They all do."

Reid hummed, adjusting his sunglasses.

Soon, they were back in their hotel and they both made a beeline for the conference room. Hotch rapped his knuckles on the glass to the door, catching the attention of the men and women in the room. Their casual conversation ended when Hotch and Reid slipped inside.

"No cinnamon rolls?" Derek Morgan asked the second the door clicked shut behind them. He sat in the first chair to Hotch's left. Arms crossed over his chest, he rocked back and forth in his seat.

"Yeah," Emily Prentiss said, from where she stood hovering over the conference phone, a bit further away from the group. "I don't think it's fair we all had to be up this early, but you're the only two getting coffee."

David Rossi, the senior member of the group, sitting to Morgan's left, lifted his finger in the air. "I second the notion," he said with a half-smile. "Us older few need some help getting around in the morning, I'll be the first to admit."

Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, who sat two spaces away from Prentiss, angled her chair to rest her elbow on the arm rest, placing her chin on her fist. "How'd it go?" she asked. Her gaze shifted over to Reid who was suddenly interested in removing the lid of his coffee cup to look at the contents inside.

"We'll move in tonight," Hotch replied, setting his coffee cup down onto the table. He stood behind the chair at the head of the table, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. "Reid and I have multiple locations to send you to. As soon as we get sight of Charlotte, we'll roll over to the location, covering all exits, no lights, no sirens. We'll inform Strauss and the SLPMD of the game plan before we do so."

"Strauss is going to wonder why we didn't take our chance now, Hotch," Morgan commented, leaning forward in his seat. He rest his arms on the table, clasping his hands together. "You know that, right?"

"Yes, I do know that," Hotch replied. He also knew that Strauss would continue to attempt to get in contact with him throughout the day, leaving message after message if he didn't answer fast enough for her. "And I will handle Strauss when the time comes. Until she joins us out on the field, this is the plan we're going with."

"Whatever you say," Morgan agreed with a sigh. He kept his tone light, but Hotch could still hear the tight undertone to this voice.

And he knew where it was coming from. Just the way his team was all seated indicated the separation between them and Prentiss. Hotch briefly shifted his gaze over to Prentiss who gently bit down on her bottom lip before clearing her throat, swinging her hair out of her face. Then a moment later, the look of guilt was gone, replaced by a look of focus on the job at hand. Hotch looked around the room and saw that same exact look on his team's faces.

They had a lot to talk about, but he knew it wasn't going to be something one night at Rossi's or a trip to the bar would fix. Not this time. Not that easily.

A/N: A couple years ago I did a huge binge of every single episode of Criminal Minds (it was only seasons 1-13 at the time), and absolutely fell in love with this show. Since then, I knew I wanted to write a fic for the fandom…and then proceeded to put it off for a long while, haha. But here it finally is!

This is set during Criminal Minds' 7th season; it's one of my favorites, and the season I was watching when I first came up with this story idea, and the season I re-watched first when planning out how this fic would go.

I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. I am so excited to really get going working on this fanfic. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

-Rhuben