"Girl I want you more
than I can say
Ah but Caroline
It seems like every time
Honey all I get is further away…"

David Gray

The small baseball field nearly vibrated with activity as various law enforcement officers milled about cordoning it off as a crime scene.

Aaron Hotchner stood near the dugout; his eyes scanning the field watching them work. Behind him, in the dugout, lay the body of a young boy, who, they believed, was the latest victim of an unsub who had already killed 6 boys between the ages of 11 and 15 in the Virginia area.

So far, local law enforcement and the BAU had kept it quiet and the details had not been leaked to the press. He considered it some sort of miracle. Unfortunately, his miracle was to be short lived.

"Hotch," Derek Morgan began, approaching him, "CNN is here."

Hotch snapped his head towards the younger man, "CNN?"

"Yeah, you know that hot brunette who's usually crawling around a war zone?"

"Carrie Hendricks," he said, narrowing his eyes and focusing on Carrie as she approached him with a camera man I tow.

"Yeah, that's her," Morgan said, but Hotch tuned him out as Carrie approached.

"Aaron," she began, her tone grave, "Is this another victim of the serial killer?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked his tone short.

"I'm doing my job, just like you are," she returned, echoing his tone.

"Why can't you just be my girlfriend and not a reporter," he muttered under his breath.

She heard him and through gritted teeth said, "Asking me not to do my job would be like asking you not to do your job. Impossible."

"Everything okay, Hotch?" JJ asked, standing between the camera man and the dugout.

"I've got it under control," was his terse reply. He turned to Carrie and said, "Ms. Hendricks, a moment in private, please?"

Taking her by the elbow, he led her around the small snack shack and out of earshot of the rest of the BAU.

"Aaron, what the hell do you think your doing?" she hissed.

"How did you find out about this?" he demanded.

"You know I can't reveal my sources."

"Don't give me that First Amendment bull shit, Carrie. Who tipped you off? The Local Authorities or was it one of my people…" he trailed off, knowing with a certain clarity who it was that tipped her off. "You went behind my back to David Rossi, didn't you?"

"No, I did no such thing! A few days ago, one of our field reporters picked up on rumblings of a serial killer and brought it to me. I wouldn't dream of putting you in a spot, so I called Dave and asked him if he knew anything. He gave me a few details and then today, he called me to tell me about the latest victim."

Hotch shook his head, "You expect me to believe that a seasoned FBI veteran like David Rossi would just volunteer this information to you? What did you have to do to get the tip, Carrie? Just how far did you have to go to coax that info out of him?"

Anger flashed in her eyes and she spoke in a hiss, "Don't do it, Aaron. Do not take this there. Do not even suggest it." She glared at him, and then quietly, "Just direct me to your Media Liaison."

Coldness took over behind her eyes as she stared him down. No matter how pissed he was at her, he could tell she was far more pissed at him.

"Well?" she snapped, "Are you going to point me to them or do I need to turn on the camera and point it at everyone in an FBI windbreaker until I find the right person."

"Jennifer Jareau is our Media Liaison. I'll make the introductions," he returned, in a cold, professional tone.

"Fine," she sniffed, following him back out onto the ball field.

XXXXX

When the team broke around 9, he knew he should have gone home and gotten a good night's sleep, just like he had advised the rest of the team to do. But Aaron Hotchner had some unfinished business to take care of, unfinished business of a personal nature.

He'd come very close to losing his perfectly honed calm, cool demeanor when Carrie and Eddie, her cameraman walked on to the baseball field. He was never happy to see a TV news crew show up at his crime scenes but having his girlfriend as part of that crew was an experience he was not used to. He knew he overreacted and said some things that really pissed her off.

So, instead of going back to his nice quiet apartment for the aforementioned good night's sleep, he drove to Georgetown and walked right into the hornets' nest he'd stirred earlier.

Knocking on the front door of Carrie's brownstone, he waited, listening to Woody's bark and the sound of his claws against the hardwood floor of the foyer.

"Woody, just hush," Aunt Evie's voice began, and a moment later, she pulled open the door. She wore an amused smile, which told him that she had already been filled in on the details of this afternoon's altercation. "Hello, Aaron."

"Evie," he said, waiting to be invited in.

"Come on in," she said, ushering him into the foyer, "You're a brave man."

"Why's that?" he asked, bending to ruffle Woody's hair and receive a hand licking welcome from the dog.

"You really pissed Caroline off today," she said in a hushed voice, "She's still rather…hot about it."

"I thought as much," he admitted, deciding to go for honesty. It might buy him points later on, "That's why I'm here."

"Are you any closer to catching that awful creature?"

"No, Ma'am. It's frustrating to everyone, so I sent the team home for a good night's sleep. Maybe tomorrow, with a good rest and fresh eyes…" he trailed off, grateful to see her understanding nod.

"And you came out here to face my niece's wrath," she nodded with him and patted his arm.

"I need to set things right," he shrugged.

She gave him a smile, "It's not going to be easy, Darling,"

He winced, "She's still angry?"

"After what you said?"

"Who was at the door, Aunt Evie?" Carrie's voice called from the living room.

"Go on in," Evie said, "Woody and I will just disappear." She winked at him, "Good luck, Darling. Do me a favor, don't let her discourage you. I know I'm talking out of school here, but Carrie's got it bad for you. She's also got one hell of a stubborn pride and you're gonna have to get through that, but just don't give up."

"I won't, Evie," he smiled, watching as she scooped up the dog and made her way upstairs.

"Aunt Evie?" Carrie said, walking into the foyer. Spotting Hotch, her features returned to the angry glare she'd worn when he last saw her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," he began, in his best "disarm the unsub" voice.

"I'm not sure there is anything further to say, Aaron," she coolly said.

"There is," he firmly said, "Can we go in and sit down?"

She shrugged and walked into the living room. He watched as she took as seat on the navy blue sofa, the very same sofa that they'd made love on barely a week before.

"So," she said, pulling him from his pleasant memories, "You said you wanted to talk. Talk."

"I completely over reacted today…" he began, but she cut him off.

"No shit," she spat.

"But," he went on, "You need to understand my frustration level…"

"Aaron, I do," she tried, softening, "I've watched it building for the past week. Of course, you can't tell me about your cases and I understand that, but don't think for one moment that I didn't know the effect it had on you."

He took a moment to digest her statement.

"Don't be so damn surprised," she tiredly said, "I am not your ex wife who put blinders on to your emotional well being. I actually give a damn about you and worry about you."

"Carrie…" he softly said, feeling the truth of her last remark sting like a slap in the face.

"But," she said, all softness leaving her as she stood and looked down at him through narrowed eyes. When she spoke, her voice came out a cold hiss, "You crossed a line today…"

He stood to even the playing field. He had crossed a line and he knew it as the words left his mouth. "Carrie…"

"No," she said, holding up a hand that literally shook with the anger she was trying to contain. "You didn't actually say the words, but damn it, Aaron, you accused me of whoring myself to get information."

"Carrie…' he tried again, but she was on a roll.

"I have never and would never do such a thing," she went on, her eyes flashing. "Not only is that unethical, but damn it, I have more self esteem than that."

"I…"

"And what really hurts the most," she seethed, "Is that you, of all people, should know me better than that."

"May I speak now?" he returned, allowing frustration to creep into his voice.

She nodded.

"Carrie, I was wrong. I totally screwed up. This case is frustrating the hell out of all of us and we've done our best to keep the press out of it. Then, you come walking across the ball field with Eddie and his camera…" he stopped and looked at her, hoping for a glimpse of understanding and not finding it. "Do you understand what could happen if the public gets this? Do you understand the panic it could cause?"

"I won't argue the public's right to know," she returned, sounding rational and calm. "Because believe it or not, I do understand. I understand a lot more than you think. What you fail to understand is that I don't work for the local news team. I'm not after tonight's scoop at six. I was there to film the investigation, to document this entire event, to show the work that you guys do to solve these crimes…so that, when the time was right, we could tell the story of how the FBI works with local law enforcement to catch these…unsubs, as you call them. We're your ultimate PR tool and you only see us as a hindrance."

"That's not what we're used to from TV news," he protested, watching as calm rationality left her features.

"So you just assume that I'm like every other reporter…" she shook her head, "I went to Dan and asked for this assignment, Aaron. Not because I thought this would be some amazing career boost but because I thought that I could actually show the amazing work that the BAU does. I have been fascinated by it since I met Dave Rossi years ago and I think the public needs to see it."

She paced in front of the fire place, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. "This is not my normal topic. I do politics, I do military, I do not do crime. I walked away from it early in my career because it was too hard for me. I got tired of looking at the bodies, the families…" she looked at him, "And I am not doing this for you."

"Aren't you?" he countered, knowing as the words left his lips that it was his second mis-statement of the day.

"Okay, maybe a little bit," she allowed, "But only in as much as I see it more in depth now that I'm closer to it."

"I had no idea…"

"No, you didn't, and you didn't…no, strike that, you wouldn't let me explain it out on the ball field!" she snapped, "You just accused me of sleeping with Dave to get a scoop…you just lowered me to nothing more than a common whore…"

He watched as her anger took over and allowed himself to see the depth of her anger. He realized that with one simple sentence that he may have destroyed the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He was tired, he was stressed, and he now had to do damage control. If she'd let him get a word in edgewise.

She continued to pace in front of him, lost in her own anger, which was bubbling out like a pot boiling over. He knew that she was getting ready for a melt down and he wasn't quite sure it would do anything to help his cause.

"Carrie," he calmly said, "Stop pacing."

"I am not going to stop pacing simply because you tell me to,' she seethed, "Do you know how pissed I am right now? How pissed I am at you?"

"I do."

"Oh, no, I don't think you do," she went on, full Louisiana drawl in effect. "Y'all just think that everyone is out for their own purpose and…"

She went on, and on, working herself into more of a lather, pushing herself closer to implosion and he couldn't stand by and watch any longer. He reached out and grabbed her by the arms.

"Stop," he commanded, holding her still. "Just stop," he repeated, watching her as she looked at him, her surprised eyes taking him in, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Somewhere, his brain disconnected from the situation, and he realized that she looked amazingly sexy.

Bending, he kissed her, hard, strong, and forceful, wanting to get through to her in a way that he knew he couldn't with just words. She understood and returned the kiss with an anger and vengeance that surprised him, and then she pulled back, leaving him standing, breathless.

"You son of a bitch," she hissed, "You accuse me of whoring myself and then you kiss me like that? Do me a favor, Aaron? Just go."

"We haven't resolved this…" he reasoned.

"No, we haven't and we're not going to, not tonight. Please, just leave. Go home, go back to work, just go anywhere but here."

"I don't want to walk away and leave things like this."

"Neither do I but I'm not ready to kiss and make up," she said, sitting on the edge of the sofa. She looked up at him, "You need to know that CNN has negotiated with the FBI and I will be filming this case as it progresses, interviewing your staff and the other law enforcement agencies you're working with, so that when this case is closed, we will be able to show the world just what the BAU does. Dave Rossi will be my prime contact point."

He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"CNN's official choice was Dave, he's the published author, he's the recognized name," she explained, "My choice was also Dave. I can't put you in the position to be a conflict between your job and what we may have between us. Personally, I believe that it would be much more fascinating to have you as the chief contact. But after today…" she shook her head sadly, then regained her composure. "Know this, Aaron, I will not paint you or your team any sort of way, good or bad. I'm just there to document what you do, how you do it, and show everyone the magic you guys do. My personal feelings for you will not affect the integrity of this piece."

"I didn't think they would," he said.

"You need to go," she said, standing.

He nodded, following her to the doorway. He didn't want to leave her like this, but knew it wouldn't do any good to stay and argue. As they reached the door, he turned and looked at her, "I'm sorry, Carrie," he sincerely said, "I love you."

"I love you too, Aaron," she replied, leaning up and kissing him softly. "I just don't really like you right now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. "Good night."

"Good night."

He walked out of the door and down the stairs, stopping when he heard the door quietly shut behind him. He hadn't expected this to go well, not in the least, but he had expected to have more of resolution to the argument, not walk away leaving things hanging.

As he got into his car and started the engine he realized how much he'd come to rely on their relationship, on Carrie's presence to be his anchor, his escape. He felt strangely untethered, strangely off balance and he didn't like that feeling.

He knew that his biggest priority was solving the case he was working on, that he owed those children all of his body and soul, until he solved this case. He would be his usual efficient, professional, dedicated self. He had no choice.