Later that week once we were back home from Santa Fe I discovered that the best use of a Saturday evening consisted of buying a cheap bottle of wine and calling one of your best friends, and co-workers, to share it with. One reason being that there was rarely a weekend that did not involve hunting the bad guy or filing a report.
"Kevin is just driving me insane," Garcia continued on a rant in between sips from her glass of wine. "I mean really it was fine when he was putting bacon on doughnuts but it's not just getting out of hand."
"Pen," I began setting my glass of wine on the table, "What's the deal with Hotch?"
She stopped drinking and stared at me over the top of her glass; quietly putting the glass down Garcia folded her hands and leaned forward over the table. "What do you mean?" she asked, clearly baffled by why I was bring up our supervisor all of a sudden.
"Is Hotch always so…protective, I guess is the best way to put it, of his agents?" I asked nervously tracing the rim of my wine glass with my fingers.
"He's been more careful about his agents' safety ever since George Foyet put the team through hell, honesty it was Hotch that got the worst of it."
"You mean the Boston Reaper?" I asked as my mind remembered reading about George Foyet, I just never realized it was this team he targeted. Being in Chicago and dealing with organized crime I rarely had much time to know what was going on with other units, let alone ones that were halfway across the country.
But the Reaper was something else. He was one of the most famous serial killers of the decade; I couldn't believe I didn't piece everything together.
"You've heard about Foyet?" Garcia asked, clearly shocked she wouldn't have to rehash the whole thing.
"Yeah, I mean who in the Bureau hasn't heard something about the man." I shrugged my shoulders. "I understand why Hotch is more protective after you guys worked the Reaper case-"
"No," Garcia interrupted, clearly I wasn't getting something. "We weren't just working it; we were right in the middle of it. Foyet wanted to destroy Hotch's life and he basically did and took away one of the most precious things in his life."
Feeling like I had been smacked upside the head, I suddenly was able to put the pieces together. Hotch had lost his ex-wife to Foyet, which would explain why he talk about her. It had been a little over a year since the Reaper was stopped, meaning it had been just a little over a year since he lost the mother of their son.
"Oh my god," was all I was able to say when I finally fitted all the pieces together.
My heart broke for Hotch and his son; I knew what it was like to have a parent taken away because of this job.
"Hotch was forced to listen to Foyet kill Haley, granted we all heard it, but what was hard for Hotch to face is that Jack heard the shots that killed his mother. It was the first time Hotch saw his family since they had been taken in by the Marshall Service. You know, I don't even think Hotch knows we heard his final conversation with Haley."
Trying to hide how much of a toll this was taking on me emotionally I gently brought my right hand to my mouth, my index finger pressed against my lips.
"That's why Hotch is so protective of the team," Garcia continued not missing a beat. "Still there is something about the way he makes sure you're alright. You guys are like magnets around each other; I would have loved to have seen how Hotch defended you to that warden."
I forced a smile on my face, lifting my glass of wine to my lips. "Yeah, it was something else."
Next thing I knew Penelope had gone off on a random tangent about something that had happened between her and Morgan, she left after getting a phone call from her boyfriend Kevin, and I was crawling into bed with my head spinning.
Once I fell asleep however, I found myself dreaming about Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.
/0/0/0/
The following morning I got up feeling slightly disoriented the effects of the wine and conversation with Pen last night left me feeling sluggish and lazy. Part of me wanted to just stay in bed and try to fall back to sleep, but I knew that if I laid in bed any longer I would start getting restless.
The light streaming in my bedroom through the curtains surely we not helping either, so I got out of bed and changed out of my pajamas in to a pair of black running shorts and a purple Northwestern t-shirt which was balled up in the back of the closet, a victim of my last Sunday run.
Wanting to find a new place to run I drove around for several miles until coming to a stop at a park just two towns over from where I lived.
I was never really a fan of running and listening to music while running, most of the time I would get lost by the sounds of my surroundings and my feet meeting the ground, but for some reason today I needed it.
Just as I was making my second mile my iPod switched songs and started playing Come Around by Rosi Golan.
Like sunlight won't you come
Lay your ray down, you're the one
I could run, I could run for the life of me
But where would that get me? Where would that lead?
I'm a fool for waiting so long
I continued along the bike path until noticed an all too familiar figure, dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt, was standing along the chain link fence of a baseball diamond watching several dozen kids taking part in a game of t-ball. My legs seemed to be in complete control as I headed down the grassy hill towards the field.
"Aaron?" I asked hesitantly in case it wasn't my boss, removing the ear buds from my ears, and stopped just a few feet behind him.
"Stalking me now?" Hotch asked keeping his attention on the game. His son must have been one of the kids on the field; I couldn't pick him out since I'd only seen the picture on Aaron's desk a handful of times.
"No," I began taking a few steps closer now noticing that Hotch was wearing a rare smile on his face, I moved up next to him resting my arms on the top of the fence, "Believe it or not I'm not one to sleep in on a Sunday morning, I'm more a takeout frustrations by running it out of your system type."
"Hmm." Aaron pressed his lips together and stole a sideways glance at me, the first time his attention left what was happening on the field. "See, I profiled you wrong then. I had you pegged for a sleep in on weekends and have a cup of coffee over the weekend comic's type."
"And you call yourself a profiler?" I asked with a slight giggled, earning me a serious look from Hotch. "I'm the sleep in on Saturday and enjoy a cup of coffee over the sports section after crawling back under the covers girl to be more exact."
"Daddy," A little boy with sandy blond hair yelled running towards Hotch with his arms wide open. "We won, daddy."
"You sure did buddy." Hotch lifted his son off the ground and squeezed tightly. I felt like I was witnessing an extremely personal moment, especially given what I had found out about the Hotchner family. "Hey buddy; I want you to meet a friend of mine."
My gaze shot up from the ground and found myself looking right into the eyes of Jack Hotchner, who was still smiling in his father's arms.
"Jack," Aaron continued, "This is Sam."
Jack glanced between his father and I before speaking. "Does Sam help you catch the bad guys when you go away?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself, buddy?" Hotch said, putting his son down.
Crouching down to the little boy's level I extended a hand to him and flashed him a gentle smile. "Hi Jack."
"Do you help daddy catch bad guys?" Jack asked seriously, to which I replied with an enthusiastic nod making the little boy smile brightly at his father and I. "She's cool daddy."
"Yeah, I guess she is." Hotch winked at me before patting his son on the shoulder. "Alright buddy, do you still want to play on the playground?"
Without a second thought Jack was up off the ground and leading Hotch and I up the hill towards a playground I had passed before I saw Hotch. I took a deep before opening mouth because ever since we got back from Santa Fe I had been meaning to talk to him.
"I've been meaning to talk to you since we got back from New Mexico," I finally said at the top of the hill.
"So you were stalking me," Hotch teased while keeping a careful eye on Jack, who was skipping along the path in front of us.
"No." I gently touched Hotch lightly on the arm, something I did without even thinking. "I swear I wasn't. I was actually going to talk to you tomorrow before tomorrow's meeting to thank you, but since I ran into you here I just decided to get it over with."
"Get it over with?" Aaron lifted an eyebrow at me.
Jack ran over to the playground and I took a seat on an empty swing, looking up at Hotch I let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I just feel like you're always sticking up for me. It must be getting old for you."
"Why do you have to thank me for that?" Hotch asked looking down at me, grabbing a hold of the swing. "Sam, you are a member of the team and I will not have anyone disrespect one of my agents, especially in front me. You are an important member of the team and I'm…I mean we're lucky to have you."
"Thank you, Hotch."
"Daddy." Jack yelled looking ambitiously at the monkey bars. "I need your help."
"Be right there, buddy." Hotch's eyes didn't leave my face, but somehow I had a feeling he could see Jack just fine out of the corner of his eye. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Sam."
"You sure will," I said before leaving and making my way back to my car on the other side of the park, the whole way back I felt like Hotch was trying to say something else when he explained why he stood up for me.
He couldn't possibly have the same feelings I have for him, could he? Then again…maybe Penelope was on to something last night.
I swear I love Jack...that kid is too cute! We have a different side of Hotch today and is Penelope onto something or was it just the wine talking? Plus I want to know what you thought about the Criminal Minds Season Premiere?
Next chapter is going to be good...just saying ;)
How do you accommodate seven profilers in only four hotel rooms?