Author Note:

This turned into kind of a long chapter, sorry! Hopefully worth it though, with some nice, fluffy emotional stuff towards the end.

"Rhodes, you don't carry a gun?" Morgan asked.

The question had come up while the team were debating whether or not to bring her along to the suspect's apartment to interview and probably arrest him.

"I've never had to. Interviewing kids and adolescents is hardly dangerous. Victim support is out in the field, but it's rarely risky and if the situation was questionable I'd have other agents with me."

"Have you passed your firearms qualification recently?" Hotch asked.

"Ummm, no comment?"

Morgan laughed. Hotch looked stressed.

"We'll get you trained as soon as we get back to Quantico."

Rossi noted the protective edge is Hotch's voice.

"Technically it's a not a requirement that victim support agents carry a gun, Hotch." Rossi said.

"I know, but I'm responsible for the safety of agents in the field."

He turned his attention to Abigail.

"I think it's a good idea that you at least feel confident using one."

"Alright, alright."

Abigail decided to sit out the apartment visit and waited at the station. She'd been sitting with Reid for an hour and half filling out paperwork when Hotch and Morgan walked into the station on either side of a cuffed suspect. They led him into an interrogation room, and JJ summoned Abigail to the observe through the room's two way mirror.

"Can you un-cuff me?"

The guy was tall, at least 6-feet, wore glasses, was well dressed. Even through the mirror his arrogance was evident.

"Of course," Hotch answered.

He unlocked the cuffs and gestured towards the chair.

"Have a seat, Mr. Butan."

"I told you, I don't know anything about those poor girls."

"You tutored them both, and a third girl you tutored reported being drugged at a party you attended. Says you interfered when her friend tried to take you home. So do you want to think about a little more?" Morgan responded.

"I don't need to drug girls to get them to sleep with me."

Abigail's stomach turned and she heard JJ make a disgusted sound next to her.

"Look, Mr. Butan. These killings, they were executed with such care, such detailed forethought, such exquisite planning, really, that we really need you to fill in the blanks. Our agents are really wanting to know: why the abandoned buildings? How were you sure that the homeless people residing there would be quiet? Just charm? Persuasion?"

Butan smirked. Abigail he thought she understood what Hotch was doing, and if it was careful flattery of Butan's ego that he was attempting, he was doing an excellent job.

"Come on Hotch, there was nothing artful about that. We know about the buildings. It was opportunity and good luck."

Butan snarled and spat at Morgan.

"Luck? What the hell would you know? You're a savage, glorified cop! Those women were worthless and they got what they deserved, exactly where they deserved it: in disgusting, filthy, empty buildings."

Hotch regarded Butan for a moment before turning around and leaving the interview room, Morgan following closely behind. Abigail had only known the team for a couple of days but could tell Morgan's emotions bubbled close to the surface, which made Hotch's measured demeanor all the more striking. Butan had made Abigail's skin crawl and she wondered how Hotch could appear so unaffected.

The agents emerged from the room and Hotch addressed the team.

"Good work today everyone. We'll get the full confession and then head back to Virginia, hopefully it won't be too late of a night."

Before anyone could respond he walked into an empty office and shut the door. Through the partially open shades she saw him sit on the edge of a desk, jaw clenched, running a hand through his hair.

After the Michigan case the next couple of weeks passed without incident. The agents wrapped up the case back at Quantico and consulted on a case in D.C. Abigail spent time getting to know everyone. She didn't have many girlfriends and few close friendships within her old team, but she felt like she could become close with JJ and Emily, and she'd never laughed so hard as she did with Garcia. Reid continued to surprise her in the best possible way, Rossi's warmth made her feel more comfortable every day, and Morgan's confidence inspired her to take to pride in being part of the BAU.

Then there was Hotch. Abigail suspected that he felt things more deeply than most despite seeming so impassive. She'd seen flashes of the Hotch she'd had dinner with that night in the diner, but that was rare at work.

As Friday wound down with no indication that'd be any cases over the weekend, the agents planned to go out for a few drinks at a local bar.

"What do you say, Chickadee? You've been hear for how long? Nearly a month and we've yet to celebrate your initiation into the most revered department in the FBI." Garcia asked.

Abigail laughed.

"Sounds good Garcia."

As the agents collected their things and headed out, Rossi let himself into Hotch's office.

"We're taking Abigail out for drinks, will you join us?"

Hotch thought for a minute. He felt something like excitement at the thought of spending time with Abigail, but thought that was probably a reason not to go.

"I think I'm just going to head home when I'm done here."

"Come on Aaron, I'm sure she'd appreciate it. You know how nervous she's been about fitting into the team, I'm sure it would make her feel welcome."

When Rossi put it that way it made him feel guilty. He sighed.

"OK, I'll meet you there in half an hour."

He arrived shortly after the other agents and found Abigail, Garcia, Dave and JJ at the bar. Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan sat at a table near the dart board already drinking.

"Hotch!" JJ beckoned him over.

"Beer, please." Abigail said to the bar tender.

"Oh no no no, my luscious love-bug. Tequila shots, please." Garcia smiled at the bartender.

"Getting her into trouble already, Garcia?" Hotch asked as he arrived at the bar.

The bartender poured four shots and Garcia distributed them amongst the agents at the bar, feigning offense at Hotch's comment.

"Sir, you know that I don't even know how to behave irresponsibly."

The agents, including Abigail, laughed. She'd only been at the BAU for a week and had already seen Garcia's liberal interpretation of certain rules and regulations. The agents took their shots, ordered more drinks, and went and sat at the table, interrupting Reid and Prentiss in the middle of a debate.

"I still think you cheated."

"Let it go, Reid. I beat you fair and square."

"I should have won! The probability of you having that hand was approximately 0.028%."

"Improbable isn't impossible, Reid. Any time you want a rematch just let me know - I'll quite happily beat you again."

"Poker?" Abigail asked.

"Yes, do you play Abigail?" Reid asked, looking hopeful.

"Not well enough to beat you, Spencer. Or should I say not well enough to beat Emily?"

The agents around the table laughed, Reid shook his head, looking aggrieved.

"Who's up for darts?" JJ asked.

Prentiss, JJ and Reid peeled off from the group towards the dart board, leaving the other agents at the table.

"So Abby, how's the firearms practice coming along?"

Morgan had taken to using her nickname over the past week.

"Honestly? I was hoping you'd all forgotten."

"Come on, you can't be that bad."

Abigail looked at Morgan, eyebrows raised.

"Hotch didn't you coach Reid? I'm sure you could turn her game around." He continued.

Hotch looked at Abigail, she looked nervous. He still didn't really understand her aversion to firearms but she'd made it fairly obvious she felt uncomfortable carrying a gun. He had been trying to balance his own concern for her safety in the field with his reluctance to push her too hard.

"Reid had trouble with his gun qualification?" Abigail asked.

Rossi laughed.

"You sound surprised."

The other agents joined in on the joke, remembering Morgan handing Spencer a whistle after he'd failed the assessment.

"Come on baby girl, we're two drinks in and haven't even danced yet."

Morgan took Garcia's hand and led her to the dance floor.

"I'm going to get another round of drinks."

Rossi stood and walked over to the bar, leaving Abigail and Hotch sitting alone and across from each other at the table.

Hotch felt a little self-conscious being alone with Abigail. She seemed to have easily developed an easy-going relationship with the other agents over the week, but those sorts of friendships, warm, quick and casual, were harder for him to establish. He looked over at the bar and noticed that Rossi had taken a seat and struck up a conversation with the woman sitting next to him. He didn't seem to be in any rush to order their drinks and Hotch couldn't help but feel that the delay was purposeful.

Since the topic had already been brought up by Morgan, Hotch decided to use the time and the relaxed environment to ask why Abigail was so apprehensive about carrying a gun. He knew that if it was any other agent he'd have been a lot more insistent about them passing their qualification and carrying a weapon. He didn't know why he was so reluctant to push her.

"Rhodes, can I ask you something?"

Abigail felt a little uneasy. Hotch wasn't looking her in the eyes, and seemed slightly nervous about whatever he was preparing to say. She hadn't seem him look even vaguely nervous since she'd met him.

"Sure."

"Is there a reason you're avoiding pursuing your gun qualification?" He asked, firmly but gently, looking up at her only as he finished the question.

There was a moment of silence. Abigail had that feeling of uncertainty that nags at you when deciding how much to share with someone. It felt like standing blind-folded on a ledge, trying to gauge how far you might fall if you were to jump. Abigail could make friends with co-workers, laugh with people, talk warmly and deeply to people she cared about, but in some ways she was just as guarded as Hotch seemed to be.

Something about him made her trust him though. She felt him looking at her expectantly, drew a breath, and started talking.

"My dad is a lawyer."

"I know."

"I guess I was an anxious kid. I'd hear him tell a story about gang members shooting each other in the street and innocent bystanders getting killed, or see photographs of people shot in their homes during home invasions, and it just got to me. After a while I'd see a gun and I'd panic. If I heard a loud bang I'd panic."

Abigail stopped. What she'd told Hotch was the truth, but there was a little more too it. 'Anxious kid' wasn't really the beginning and the end of it. Her mental health wasn't something she wanted to discuss, though. Not with anyone, and definitely not with her boss.

"I got over it, obviously. Guns don't scare me anymore, exactly. They're just something I take seriously."

Hotch held his breath. He had a feeling that there was more she wasn't saying, but at least now he had some idea of why she'd felt uncomfortable. He sat, silently looking at her, giving her space to continue if she wanted to, part of him hoping she would. Instead she sat there quietly, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Say something, Hotch."

"Sorry, I just wanted to give you more time in case there was anything else."

He cleared his throat and looked a little sheepish then continued.

"I'm not always great at these sorts of things."

Abigail laughed gently.

"So why did you ask?"

For the first time since she'd met him Hotch seemed a little thrown off-balance, struggling to find words.

"I guess… I don't know. I need to keep you safe in the field. I knew there was something that was bothering you, and needed to know so that I could help you deal with it."

Abigail nodded.

"I'm not that great at this either, Hotch."

All of a sudden Abigail felt like there was a subtext to their conversation. When she said she wasn't great at 'this', she didn't just mean talking about personal subjects. She wasn't good at trusting people or getting close to them, and she felt like Hotch might be trying to say the same thing.

"You know, Morgan's right, I did help Reid. I'd be happy to practice with you."

Abigail still looked uncomfortable.

"You don't have to start carrying a gun right away, but you should practice at least. Soon you'll be more involved in investigations and you'll be spending time out in the field and you'll need to carry a weapon."

Abigail sighed.

"Alright, Monday?"

Hotch smiled.

"It's a date."

Abigail felt herself blush slightly as Rossi returned to the table with more drinks.

"Thanks Dave. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."

As Abigail stood up from the table Hotch took a sip from his drink and glared at Rossi.

"Slow service tonight?"

Dave smiled.

"I don't know what you mean."