"Can you come back in 5?" Aaron yelled back. He felt so loud.
"Sure.." That was sure to not start a rumor.
Acting quickly, Nina grabbed and threw on her clothes. Aaron did the same. She felt pressured to say something, anything, to put a period on this. What was he expecting? What was he thinking? When she was decent, she turned to look at him again. He was still fixing his shirt facing away from her. She looked for the steam coming off his head but just saw his mushed hair. Her heart clenched, 'he's so handsome..'
What the hell are they supposed to do after this?
"Well.." Aaron spoke first, finally turning.
"Well…" she mimicked. One night stands are not exactly her forte. One night stands with your boss are especially not her forte. She wished it was all fine and normal and she could kiss him goodbye and tomorrow would be clean slate. But the endorphins, the exhaustion, the everything else….
"I should go." She managed to say. The silence was a bit too much. She threw open the door and heard the light flick on behind her. By the time she reached her desk and grabbed her things, the light was still on and the mystery person had reached the office door.
"Late meeting huh?"
"Yeah, work never really stops." She distantly heard Aaron say as she walked to the elevator.
It wasn't until she had entered her apartment did she hear the countdown distantly blaring from neighbors' TVs. People all around the city screamed and hugged and no doubtedly had sex well into the night. She poured a glass of wine, and turned on her own TV.
"-only time of the year you see this many people gathered…" The ending of the newscast provided sufficient background noise. Getting ready for bed, she couldn't help but graze those once tender spots and smile.
Nina fell asleep on the couch. Tomorrow, she will think about the after. Tonight, she still held on to the ecstasy of it all.
Weeks had gone by since their…encounter. Whoever had emptied the trash that day apparently hadn't said much of anything to anyone. She had spent two weeks bracing for a call from HR. Or worse, Hotch himself. But the ethos of the bullpen remained the same. And ever the professional, Hotch acted as if it never happened. He made a point to not corner Nina in the break room, maintain as equal eye contact as he did with everyone else, keep up all the usual business casual appearances. To his credit, she didn't feel any odd pressure from him. Their relationship returned to what it was.
It pissed her off.
She did not want special treatment, to be clear. Too much work had gone into this job. But she certainly didn't want to just ignore it either. Before, it had just been a hot little fantasy. And now she had tasted the fantasy. Before, she was managing. Now, she was struggling. Almost every night since found her indulging under the sheets or in the shower. Remembering how ice hot it all was.
Of course, she was making an effort to not let it effect the job. Nina valued the work environment here immensely. Cases provide mild relief, giving her something to pour into. Ironically, the past few weeks have been some of her best performance-wise.
But something has got to give. Polite greetings felt like intricate tests. She practically trembled each time she had to grab coffee. Not to mention, case meetings felt like mental gymnastics the way she had to basically monitor her own breathing. If anyone else noticed, they certainly weren't saying anything.
She thought to just report it, rip off the band aid. But due to lack of confidence or guilt, dismissed the idea. Something about that, blindsiding him, felt unfair. The amount of times an open email stared at her, -an open text box, an empty memo sheet- was countless. She was wrestling the nerve to ask for a formal talk from him. But then what? What was this talk supposed to accomplish?
"Hi sweetie!" A sparkly blonde appeared next to her in the bathroom. How long had she been just staring into the mirror?
"Rough day?" Nina suddenly felt the urge to spill her guts to Penelope. Something told her this was just a superpower she held.
"Yeah..yeah…" The running water cut off whatever sentence was supposed to leave her.
Penelope, ignoring the weird air, continued, "Well at least you've got the ceremony to look forward to this week?" She pulled out a mascara tube.
Nina slowly dried her hands on a paper towel, confused. "What ceremony?"
"The…Award ceremony? This Friday?" Penelope matched her expression. "You're going right?"
Right. Yes. That was coming up wasn't it. Nina thought about the idea of all that pomp and circumstance. The dresses and suits and dancing. No doubt alcohol would be supplied. It sounded a lot like a bad idea, an uncomfortable one at best.
"Oh uhh, I'll have an early morning on Saturday. I think I'll skip this time." She continued to dry her hands, trying to sound nonchalant.
"What!" Penelope turned to face her. "You're gonna skip the ceremony? But we're all coming to support you!"
Nina froze, Penelope continued. "and don't tell him I said this, but Derek had us all to pitch in for a gift. Being nominated for the triple-A before your fifth year is huge! You've got to go!"
Nina swallowed. Surely there was a mistake. "What do you mean the- Do you mean I'm in the running for the Auspicious Agent Award?!"
"You didn't know?" Penelope's confusion grew deeper, quickly closing the mascara.
"No I didn't…" Finally throwing away the paper, she felt pleased. Winning that award is indeed almost unheard of this early in a career here. Nina wondered how she missed the email.
"Well, congratulations!" Agent Garcia moved on to a tube of lip gloss now, still managing to flash Nina a big bright smile through the mirror.
"Thanks." She smiled warmly back. Then, "Wait, how did you know if I didn't know?" Garcia is the queen of gossip, but traditionally they only notify those who were nominated about their specific nomination. Noone else.
"Well, I might as well tell you." Penelope placed a cap on the gloss, clicking her nails on the cap lightly. "Your nominator let it slip."
"My nominator?"
Nina could barely contain her anger. She tried to not stomp around the apartment, but she had a few hours of ruminating on Penelope's confession built up in her. Normally you'd find her this time of night on a train home, carefully leaving before the bullpen got too empty. An empty bullpen brought a bubbly stomach.
But tonight she left extremely early, worried she couldn't keep face for the rest of the day. Making some excuse about nausea, she practically ran home.
Not before writing a note on memo paper and sliding it under Hotch's door. 'Rescind the nom' it read. It had taken an embarrassing amount of time to write, the courage almost leaving her hand.
The nomination wasn't just a nomination, you see. It was an out. Everyone knew Aaron Hotchner had a reputation. His word has a huge amount of weight in the bureau. Him being the nominator meant she had a very good chance of winning.
Which meant she had a very good chance of being on the ambassador's list and getting a slew of new assignments. Which she would be stupid to not take.
It was an out. Her blood was boiling.
Her apartment was simple by most standards. A fridge, a bed, a couch, a TV- the necessities. Nina always liked how you could stand by the bed near her dresser and look straight down the short hall to the door. An easy escape if need be. To stave off the remarks from her mother, she kept it nicely decorated.
Long story short, there aren't that many nooks and crannies in there. And yet, she held a Swiffer in one hand and a rag in the other looking for any speck of dust or grime to distract her. She even donned a pair of sweats and a baggy shirt, the classic cleaning outfit.
But the clock read something close to 9pm and no amount of frantic cleaning eased her mind. She should have reported him. Maybe she still will. Annoyingly, guilt still panged her. After all, she was just as responsible for it as he.
But he's taking an out. She thought. He deserves it.
She was down to spraying her shoes when the urge again came. Her laptop lay on her bed, on and tempting. One email could ruin his career.
Yours too.
Stomping to grab the electronic, she brought it to the kitchen, choosing to stand at the bar. A drafted email never hurt anyone. If anything, drafts are an excellent way of collecting her thoughts. Fwipping open the lid, she logged in and hit compose.
God, where to start…
Flashes of hands on her body once again came. It made her even angrier. There weren't even any words typed yet! How dare he turn her on still. How dare he make her want him.
"ArghH! Fuck!" Noone was there to hear. The shower mere steps away promised release from the tingle growing in her center. One more indulgence and then forgetting it all.
'He doesn't get to have this kind of hold on me', She thought. 'He's a fucking coward.'
Two knocks at her door put a pause to that train of thought.
Reviews always welcome!