Criminal Minds Imagines

coach aaron - aaron hotchner

warning: I do not know how soccer works

"Thanks again, sis, for taking Oscar. Usually we are able to schedule our business trips for different weekends, somehow our lines got crossed this time." Your sister said.

You had your phone on the counter, the call on speaker as you scrambled to make toast for your nephew before he had to be at his soccer game.

"It's really no problem." You paused, turning around and looking at the counter. You had just set the butter out. Where did it go?

"Is he doing okay? Does he miss us?" She asked worriedly.

"Of course, he misses you." You said, finally finding the butter propped up on top of the toaster.

"Can I talk to him? I promise I won't take long, I know you two are on a time crunch. It's almost twelve there right?" She asked, always one to micro-manage.

"Uh, yeah, sure." You were half paying attention, trying desperately to butter the toast without burning your hand. "Scar! Your mom wants to talk to you!"

He came running in from the spare room he had taken over in your two bedroom apartment, not dressed in his uniform like you had asked. You stared at him with wide eyes.

"Oscar James where is your uniform?" You asked, trying not to snap at him but you didn't have time for him not to listen.

"Mom didn't pack it!" He whined, pointing behind him.

You peeked around the corner to see his far too large suitcase over turned, the contents scattered everywhere.

"What's going on? Is something wrong?" Your sister asked.

You set down the toast and picked up your phone. You knew your sister wouldn't have forgotten his uniform, she practically packed his whole room in his suitcase for just the weekend. "You packed Oscar's uniform right?"

"Well, duh, I put it in his soccer bag." She answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You sighed. "Go look in your soccer bag. Hurry, please. You still have to eat breakfast."

"It's almost afternoon, why did you make breakfast?" The seven year old asked, but quickly turned and headed off to his room when you gave him a pointed look.

"So can I talk to him?" Your sister huffed, starting to get annoyed. "I have a meeting in ten and you should be leaving in fifteen to avoid traffic."

You rolled your eyes. "He's changing into his uniform it might be—"

"It's not in here!" He cried.

"Are you sure?" You called back.

"Is it not there? It has to be in there I know I put it in there." Your sister demanded.

"Are you sure you didn't accidentally leave it in the dryer at your house or something?" You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. There was a long pause and you held back an annoyed groan.

"I remember now, I did have it packed but he had another game that got moved up right before he stayed with you so I ran it through the washer and...yes, it's at our house." She sounded panicky now. "Oh, God, you're going to be late, but you'll have to run by and get it. Take the handheld steamer too, I'm sure it's wrinkled. You can steam it in the car when you get there."

You did groan this time. "Gotta go. Bye, sis."

"Hey, you don't know how hard it is to be a working mother. Don't blame this on me." She snapped. "I'll call you tonight at seven-thirty. Move Oscar's bedtime to seven forty-five so I can speak with him."