When the alarm on Hotch's phone sounded in the morning, he was not a happy camper. He was sore, and had barely gotten any sleep. He'd had one of the most restless nights he'd had since Foyet. She plagued his dreams; the exotic scent, the mesmerizing eyes, the way her hair framed her face, and lightly bounced as she sauntered towards him, how husky her voice sounded – though he was sure that was his own subconscious – but with the amount of times he had to wake himself up before he did something stupid – even in the dream – resulted in a very restless sleep, and a grumpy morning.

The last dream he had was the most intense. She was straddling him in bed, her hands pressed into the pillow on each side of his head, his own a little higher on her legs than he cared to admit, the dress riding high on her hips not leaving all that much to the imagination, her brown locks lightly tickling his face as her lips ghosted over his. He was about to finally cave in to the temptation and just listen to his body, and to hell with anything else, when his alarm blared and woke him.

He let out a loud exasperated groan; though he wasn't sure if his frustration came from not listening to his body, or was it because she wouldn't leave his subconscious alone. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling in thought, trying to figure out exactly why he seemed to be so mesmerized by her.

Was it a simple physical attraction? Was it because he hadn't been with someone in so long? Was it some form of misplaced gratitude for saving Haley and Jack?

But none of these reasons made sense. If it were the gratitude; wouldn't he have felt it the second she walked out of the house holding his son? Wouldn't he have had these dreams after she came over to his place and was perfectly content letting his son practically choke her in a hug?

If it was a simple equation of his body's need to be with someone; wouldn't he have reacted to any attractive woman around him? He knew he would never view JJ or Emily in that light; despite them being attractive. And Garcia was like his wacky younger sibling. He would take a bullet for any of them, but he didn't look at them like that. So why Amalya? He'd never crossed that line with an agent before, and he'd worked with a few attractive ones in the span of his career.

Wouldn't he be dreaming about Haley? He had years of marriage to go back to! If it were a simple thing as not having been with someone in a long time, wouldn't he dream of the woman who was for all intents and purposes the love of his life? His high-school sweetheart? The woman he'd been with for over a decade?

So why her?

If it were a simple physical attraction; why didn't it happen sooner? Why not that day she first dragged him out of his office?

His office. That was the first time one look from her completely disarmed him. The first time he found his usually-sharp-brain agreeing with her words mindlessly.

Why did he listen to her? Why did he keep listening to her? Hell…. why did he wait for her to drag him home each? He always left with her regardless of his work load.

He rubbed his face as he growled in defeat. Whether he liked it or not, something about her was luring enough for his subconscious to hold on to her.

But be that as it may be, he still had to work with her. So, he had to keep his head straight around her, keep those thoughts buried deep down. He worked with some of the best profilers in the country – the world if you include her background – and despite their shared agreement that they not profile each other, they often can't help themselves.

He already suspected that Rossi was well aware of the effects she had on him. He didn't want the entire team to find out. He'd never live it down.

The sound of the locks on his car closing echoed in the parking space, shadowing the sounds of another approaching vehicle. He quickly spotted Rossi exiting his own car, and walked over to him.

"Morning." He greeted, his tone a bit clipped as he had every intention to hang Rossi for the stunt he pulled with the rooms in Alaska.

Rossi frowned at him. "You look different." He commented, and Hotch glared at him.

"I am peeved." He confessed. "We still need to address your little stunt in Alaska." He told him, as they walked towards the elevator.

"And I already told you, I have no idea what you're referring to." Rossi shot back nonchalantly.

Hotch was about to lay into him, when the clicking of heels that Rossi knew was coming finally registered with Hotch. He heard her voice, but couldn't understand what she was saying despite her voice being extremely clear.

'She's speaking Arabic!' he thought to himself, noting how even the tone of her voice, and to a degree her entire demeanor changed when she switched languages.

He cursed under his breath, especially at the smirk on Rossi's face. "Who knew Arabic could sound so…." He drifted off, his eyes sparkling with a teasing gleam that Hotch was all-too-familiar with, as he shrugged his shoulders.

Amalya smiled when she saw them, lowering the phone a little before she spoke. "Morning." She greeted, smiling, and Hotch cursed again. The second she smiled, his night adventures – that he'd spent the entire ride over to work burying – came rushing back to the forefront of his brain.

She quickly wrapped up the conversation, and pulled the phone away from her ear, just as they stepped onto the elevator.

"You know, Arabic sounds a bit different coming from you than what I'm used to." Rossi pointed out.

"Well, it depends on which dialect you heard. Egyptian is different from Syrian, Lebanese, the Gulf area, and so on. And besides, any language sounds different when spoken in anger. I promise you; you won't like it when I'm yelling at someone in it." She quipped, and he chuckled.

"You know, I've heard about your infamous temperamental side, but I have yet to see it." Rossi commented.

"Oh, it doesn't come out easily, but I assure you it's not a side you want to mess with." She laughed, and Hotch cursed once more. Why was this elevator ride taking so long today?

"Of that, I have no doubt, my dear." Rossi assured her, just as the elevator finally signaled their arrival at the BAU.

Derek was leaning on Emily's desk, as he spoke to JJ. He frowned when he saw the trio walking into the bullpen, especially at Hotch. Something was different about him. And Rossi was smirking, so he knew something. He looked over at the two women, and saw them both watching the trio just as close as he was.

"Morning, everyone." Hotch greeted in a clipped tone, as he beelined for his office, Rossi's smirk becoming a chuckle at his hasty exit. A muffled 'morning' was chorused by his team.

"We have a case." JJ announced, just as Amalya threw her go-bag under her desk.

"Set up in the conference room, I'll be there in a minute." Hotch called over his shoulder, as he walked into his office, and closed the door behind him.

"Garcia was pulling files about the victims." JJ said, pointing with her free hand towards the general direction of Garcia's office.

"I'll go get her; I need to give her something." Amalya stated, as she pulled a container out of her bag, and headed towards Garcia's office.

"Something is off about those three," Morgan declared. "Especially with Hotch. He hasn't been the same since Amalya came onboard." He added.

"I thought you're not supposed to profile each other," JJ reminded him, as they walked up the steps towards the conference room.

"We don't need to be profilers to know. It's obvious to anyone who has eyes. Hotch is different around her." Emily defended Morgan.

Just then, Rossi entered the room.

"Hey, Rossi. What's up with Hotch and Amalya?" Morgan asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean. They seem fine to me." Rossi deflected.

"Stop deflecting, Rossi. That smirk on your lips this morning does not say 'they seem fine' at all. Hotch is an entirely different human being when he's around her; and today there is something even more different about him." Emily shot back in a whisper, worried that Hotch might overhear.

Rossi wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation himself, but he wasn't blind either. He wasn't sure how Hotch was planning on pretending like nothing is amiss when he worked with brilliant profilers. And he also knew that said profilers were a lot like incessant children; they don't let things go.

"I don't know what to tell you. They both seemed fine when we had dinner together last night." He hinted, and they all grinned at him.

"You three had dinner together?" Emily sought confirmation.

"Yes. She took us to a Turkish restaurant, and we had a lovely evening. I can't attest to what happened after I left though." He recounted.

"Hubba Hubba!" Morgan purred, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Actually, if I remember correctly, Copts are celibate. They save themselves for marriage, so that can't be it." Emily informed them.

"I don't think all of them follow the rules, Em." Derek teased.

"Morgan." JJ warned subtly, with an eyebrow raise towards the door behind them. They all looked over and saw her, Garcia and Hotch walking together towards the room.

"Let's get started." Hotch announced, as he and Amalya took their seats, while Garcia stood by the screen.

The case seemed to hit a nerve with her, but it did with all of them. Watching a live broadcast of a woman getting killed without being able to help wasn't anyone's forte, but she was the only who went to the bathroom to hurl afterwards. Even JJ was able to keep her food down.

They all got onto the jet as soon as the case was over. After a case like this, they all just wanted to sleep in their own beds. A hotel room was too cold.

She took one of the double seats around the table, and the team subtly settled into the rest of the chairs so the only one available would be the one next to her. Morgan was sitting facing her, with Rossi next to him. She wasn't sure when she dozed off, but she jerked awake in slight panic when they were about an hour into the flight. Her eyes quickly took in her surrounding, and calmed a bit at the familiar set of faces looking at her with concern.

Morgan was familiar with the look in her eyes, he'd often had it in his eyes when something would bring back memories of Beaufort. "Hey, it's alright. You're safe." He assured her.

She buried her face in her hands, and took a deep, calming breath, before one hand ran through her hair as she leaned on the other. Hotch wordlessly slid the tumbler in his hand towards her, and she took it and gulped the liquid in one swig.

"Thanks." She said, as she put the tumbler back on the table.

"You look like you need another one." Rossi suggested, but she shook her head. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

"You okay?" Emily now came to check on her. She'd apparently made a bit of a ruckus when she jolted.

JJ and Reid moved closer as well, and she nodded. "Yeah, the case just reminded me of a case I'd very much rather forget." She explained, as she fumbled with the hem of her sleeves.

"You wanna talk about it?" Reid offered softly.

"Let's just say this wasn't my first time watching someone getting killed live when I couldn't stop it." She relayed.

"Well, I won't repeat your own advice back to you. But I will ask what we can do to help shake this memory. I mean we can't exactly go get that amazing food right now." Rossi spoke, winking at her at the end.

She grinned at him, as she leaned closer to him on the table, inadvertently moving closer to Hotch who was having a hard time keeping his head straight with her scent all around him. "Oh, I wouldn't be going back there for the food," she teased. "We still need to finish your dance lessons." She quipped.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Derek protested. "Hold it there you two," he sat up straight in his seat, and looked over at Rossi. "She was teaching you how to dance?" he asked, his tone too amused for Rossi's liking.

"A Turkish dance, no less." Amalya elaborated.

"Please tell me there's video Garcia can get her hands on," Emily joined in.

And that's when Hotch saw his chance to pay Rossi back for the Alaska stunt. "No need for that. I have it right here." He declared, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and waving it tauntingly at Rossi.

"Aaron…." Rossi warned, but he knew it was futile. He saw it in Hotch's eyes that this was payback.

Of course, as soon as the video started Derek roared with laughter which overshadowed Amalya's laugh both in the video and out.

"Wait, she's pronouncing your name differently." Reid pointed out, as only Reid could.

"Yeah, it sounds slightly different in Arabic and Turkish. The accent is a bit different." Amalya explained.

"So how would it sound?" Emily asked.

And so, Amalya voiced it, and both Reid and Derek tried to repeat it. It took them a couple of tries, but they eventually got it.

"So, wait, do our names sound different in Arabic also?" JJ wondered.

"Yeah. Except Rossi."

"Well, Rossi's first name is her last. David, Dawoud." Reid pipped up.

"No, it's not just that. Copts actually use 'David' and 'Dawoud' as different names, so we're used to it." She corrected.

"Do we all get a translation to our names?" Derek asked.

"No, only Rossi and Hotch do. Your names will only sound slightly different. Except maybe Spencer and Penelope, because the 'P' sound doesn't exist in Arabic, so it'll come out as a 'B'." she explained.

"Let's hear'em." Emily encouraged.

She went down the list, each of them trying to mimic how the names sound, until she got to Reid's name, and he sulked. "Mine sounds too different." He whined softly, and they cracked up.

"Sorry." She apologized sheepishly.

"So, we know Rossi's name, what's Hotch's?" Derek inquired.

"Haroon." She said simply.

Fuck! Was all Hotch could think. Because the effect of his name from her – in Arabic no less – went straight to the south of his border.

"That sounds sexy." Derek teased, and Hotch glared at him.

When the hell did they join in on Rossi's taunting train? He grumbled to himself. If Rossi said anything to them, he will have his head.

But what was there to tell? A voice wondered from within. One that he could not answer.

It was still dark by the time they landed in D.C. so they all headed home. He was exhausted; he hadn't slept throughout the entire case, and he had started on a bad night's sleep to begin with thanks to a certain agent haunting his dreams. He was hoping that his subconscious would also be too drained to think of her and let him sleep in peace.

And when his alarm went off the next morning, and he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he wasn't sure if he was glad he'd slept through the night, or frustrated that his body didn't get the release it so desperately craved.

So this chapter would not get out of my head, and I couldn't focus on any other story unless I put it into words and uploaded for you dear readers.

I do have a question though, I was never a fan of Seaver, nor of JJ leaving, and her whole plotline in Afghanistan made zero sense because she was not a profiler so she wouldn't be the one called in for the interrogation. So, as either way would not really affect the overall storyline much (Because I will still axe the Afghanistan storyline, but not JJ's kidnapping) should I keep JJ from leaving, or should she leave like on the show?

I'm taking votes here. So let me know what you all think