It had been weeks since Agent Aaron Hotchner had a Friday night off. The Behavioral Analysis Unit had been on case after case, and the head of the unit barely had enough time to keep up on all his reports in addition to the regular consultation requests the BAU answered. In all his years with the FBI, he'd grown used to it, and he never complained, but there was always a feeling of guilt that snuck up on him. It had been there since she was born, but his daughter, Flora, was seventeen now. She was about to graduate high school a year early; she'd been accepted to Columbia University, where she would be starting in the fall-less than six months away.
Flora was a regular teenager, of course: she had her own life and surrounded herself with friends, filled her free times with extra curricular activities, and hardly seemed to notice when he was on a case, traveling or not. They kept in contact through phone calls and texts, and he always knew where she was, who she was with, what she was doing… The guilty feeling remained, though: she was growing up and she wouldn't be around much longer!
Aaron glanced away from the tv when he heard Flora coming down the stairs, then sat up straighter when he saw what she was wearing. He had fallen into a habit of just giving her money and letting her buy her own clothes, but surely she didn't think he would let her walk out of the house wearing a dress that short. "Honey?" he said softly.
"Hmm?" Flora didn't even look his way as she continued searching for her keys.
"Can you change, please?"
Flora froze instantly and raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"
"Just cover up a little, sweetie."
"Don't slut shame, Dad."
Aaron hesitated for a moment, mouthing "slut shame" to himself as he tried to understand what she meant.
"Do you think a woman can be 'asking for it' based on her clothes?" Flora shot back, her tone calm and voice soft, but the irritation could still be heard.
She sounds like me when she does that, Hotch thought. "No, of course not," he answered, still not entirely comprehending. He raised his daughter to be independent and he encouraged her to always speak her mind, even when it meant she was challenging him. Even if it took hours of back and forth, they eventually ended up on the same page, no matter who was in the wrong.
"Is it ever a woman's fault that she was assaulted?"
"No."
"Is there something particularly shameful about my legs?"
"No," Hotch answered again, waiting. Overall, he knew that Flora was far more like him than she was her mother. She had a better sense of humor than he did, but she was quiet and contemplative, and absorbed information the same way he did. She even looked like him. Except for times like this. She somehow inherited the look Haley used to give him that would tear him apart, and she always looked exactly like Haley when she looked at him like that.
"Okay, so why do I have to change?" Flora finished, finally finding her keys under a stack of mail.
Aaron sighed, trying to think of something to say. He opened his mouth briefly, ready to insist that he was her father and didn't have to explain himself, but he also knew she was right. How many times had he criticized magazine headlines for their portrayal of women? Girls as young as five or six start internalizing the messages sent to them through the media, and Flora was no different. How many times had he told her that being strong and healthy was more important than being skinny, that it didn't lower a woman's worth if she dressed a certain way or acted a certain way, and under no circumstances was abuse ever deserved?
Finally, Hotch raised his hands in surrender. "Okay."
Flora smiled at him, bending down to kiss his cheek. "Love you, Daddy."
Aaron leaned his head back onto the back of the couch, watching as she turned her back. "Home by midnight," he reminded her, although he knew he didn't have to. Flora didn't bother responding, slamming the door behind her.
Hotch glanced back toward the tv again. "Slut shame," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Flora had taught him plenty of slang over the years; she kept him entertained with how the meaning of words changed with generations, but this was new. This was the first time she taught him something about her worth.