Hotch X Reader

3

I greeted Hotch the following morning as he came out of his room. He was still in his pajamas and looked at me curiously. I was fully dressed, eating a toaster strudel I bought in the gift store.

"How long have you been up?" He asked.

"An hour." I said from behind the morning paper. "I guess I'm an early riser. Ah found it."
I dropped the paper on the table in order to show Hotch. On the second page, in bold letters, was the report on our case. I always read the reports. On multiple occasions, the different perspective gave me some ideas about the unsub. Hotch glanced from the paper to the notes I was taking on our current case. "You have anything?"
"Nothing worth mentioning." I looked up at him. "You have any revolutionary thoughts?" He shook his head. I hoped that someone thought of something. Or this might turn in to a very long case.

"I think that because of the strict timeline and practices he's been following, we can confirm that he has some sort of physcotic disorder." Reid said. We were all gathered in the small conference room.

"So he's living some sort of hallucination?" Prentiss asked.

"Delusion actually." I said. "Hallucinations are focased around the senses: sight, hearing, taste, whatever. Delusions revolve around strongly held beliefs or concepts, or memories. Either condition efficiently disconnects a person from society though. I would say that the unsub has been a lifelong phsycotic. Stress induced episodes don't last this long. It's a fairly common disorder with over 200,000 cases a year! Most of these cases just involve an abnormal thought process or perspective, and can operate just fine under medication. However, it is also a fairly dangerous postition to be in as your brain will comprehend trauma differently. His trigger, whatever it is, worsened his condition. Now he's, like, a killer."

"Wow thanks Reid." Morgan teased. I scoffed while Spencer looked confused.

"We need to profile his delusion to the furthest extent." Hotch said sternly.

"And in the meantime?" J.J asked. "I mean, we know where he's finding his victims, can't we go over there?"
"Doctors, do you think we could point him out in a bar." Rossi asked Reid and I.

"Point him out? Yes. His behavior won't be incriminating enough to get a warrant for survellience or his arrest though." He said.
"He will be if we can trigger a response from him." I say, realizing exactly what we need to do. Every one at the table knew exactly what I meant. We needed some uniforms undercover as a target for the unsub. Hotch got up to call the shierff in.

The sheirff thought it was a good idea. That is until he realized he would have to send in an unarmed officer. He sternly refused, and asked why one of the 'high and mighty profilers' do it themselves. I had to admit, it was a better plan. I mean, who better to imitate behavior then someone who studies it.

"Me?" I asked. When Morgan said I should go, I thought he was joking. Now the entire team was agreeing.

"You are the youngest." Reid smirked
"By four weeks." I snapped back.
"Too bad I don't fit the victimology." He yawned. I rolled my eyes and sat back against my seat. "Don't be so sure Dr. Reid. He goes after pretty little girls. I'd say that perfectly describes the person sitting in front of me." A smile spreads on his face.
"Dave, will you go with her?" Hotch asked the older man. "Now wait a minute Hotch." Morgan says, sending me a quick glance. Oh God. "Think about the other victims. You look a lot more like them then Rossi." My face turned red as I rolled my eyes at Morgan's wink. I'm going to kill him. I duck my face down, but not before Rossi notices. He knew exactly what Morgan was doing.

"Yeah, I think you're right." He agreed. Just like that it was settled. I was going on a date with a man whom my collegues thought I had an infatuation for. Yippee.

We continued throwing around ideas for the case, until we decieded it was time to get ready. Hotch and I silently made our way back to the hotel room before splitting up to change. I struggled with picking something out: I mean it's not like you plan on going clubbing while on a murder case.I ended on a skirt that ended just above my fingertips, and tied up the bottom of my white shirt. I curled my stubborn hair, and did my makeup. Again, I didn't really pack anything to do anything extrodinary. Wasn't planning to wear cat-eye to a murder scene. I did the best I could, and then made my way to meet up with the team.

Morgan hollered when I got out of the elevator. I struck a mocking pose and continued to walk over. The rest of the team was dressed up too. They were to mill around the club until they could make an arrest. Hotch looked especially good. He wore a white dress shirt, but his usual tie and jacket were nowhere to be seen. I thought about telling him, but we were still working after all. We filed into the SUVs. Hotch and I got out a couple blocks away from the club, in order to avoid suspicion.

"You ready?" He asked, holding out his hand. I took it, and nodded. Usually, I hated holding hands. Like, to me it's just the most awkward thing in the whole world. However, it felt natural with Hotch. I don't know how to explain it, but I wrapped my free arm around the crook of his, and was perfectly happy. Probably a little too happy for a person hunting for a serial killer.

While entering the club, the bouncer asked if we our names were on the list. We quietly flashed him our credentials and made our way through. He put his hand on my lower back, making my breath hitch. He led me over to the bar, and we sat together. He subtly surveyed the room. I took a deep breath before asking him: "So Aaron? What do you do for a living?" I said loud enough above the crowd to be heard by eavsedroppers. He gave some fake answer. We continued to banter back and forth before realizing it wasn't doing them any good. Chances are, the unsub wasn't listening to any one couple. They had to appeal to his visual senses. I put my hand over his on the bar. At the same time, he calmly put his other hand on my thigh and leaned over.

"Do you see anyone who matches the profile?" He whispered into my ear. I had to remind myself to breathe. I bit my lip and glanced around the room, before leaning back into him.

"No. A couple of bums in the corner, but none fit. What if he's not here?" I ask.

"We'll catch him through more practical means." I nodded. I slowly wrap my arms around his neck, very careful not to hide his face. The unsub needed to see the difference in age. All of a sudden, I heard Reid over the intercom. "I think we have eyes on him." He said. I look around to see a man staring daggers into us.

"What are the chances of us getting a warrant because an unsub looked at us funny?" I ask dryly. Hotch lets out an exagerated laugh for the unsubs benefit.

"Time to bring it home lovebirds." Prentiss said. I saw her get up and move closer to where our suspect was sitting. Hotch leaned back and looked me in the eye. I nodded slightly, and he slowly leaned in. Our lips connected softly. The butterflys in my stomach erupted into what felt like fireworks. He grabbed my waist and deepended the kiss. My hands main there way from his chest to his hair. I ran my hands through it before permantly landing on his neck. My tounge involuntairly slipped into his, and his into mine. We continued to makeout for what seemed to be forever, yet so quick. Morgan spoke into the comms: "We lost our visual." We froze for a momment, unable to seperate ourselves. Once we did, I shyly looked down. It was officially undenible: I had feelings for my boss.

Still in our makeshift-club-outfits, we rushed into the police department. Hotch went off to see if any missing couples were reported. We all knew it was in vain. He got his new victims, and unless he went off script again, we wouldn't see them for another two months.