❝ you're the best of us. ❞
in which the ex-agent with a therapy license decides to get back in the game.
CRIMINAL MINDS SEASON 4
OC X AARON HOTCHNER
TRIGGER WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND ISSUES SURROUND...
update TWO of the night (make sure you read the first update!!)
unedited and unsupervised but not in the way you think hehehe
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THIRTY EIGHT. DAISY AND DEREK HIT THE CLUBS LIKE THE BAD BITCHES THEY ARE
"I GOTTA ADMIT, YOU'RE PRETTY BADASS FOR DOING THIS," DEREK SAID, LEANING AGAINST THE BAR AS HE SCANNED THE CLUB. It wasn't like he could see much; the crowd was dense and the lights were blinking in different colours and speeds. Electric dance music thumped through the air, making Daisy's head throb with each beat. She had put on a dress that was far more revealing than any other she owned, her cleavage out and proud, and though there was a gun strapped to her thigh, she was the perfect bait.
"Thanks, Morgan," she flashed him a charming grin despite the nerves that surged through her body. Neither one of the agents had a mic on them, considering it would have been too noticeable, so they were instead surrounded by the local P.D and the rest of the team, who were scattered around the building. She lifted up her arm up, presenting the freely swinging limb. "Does it look like I'm in severe pain?"
Derek chuckled, his hand tracing down her arm and stopping at the healing hole. He also noticed the scar from her last gunshot wound, but he chose not to mention it. "You're good at pretending, Alvarez. Keep it up and we'll have this son of a bitch in custody by the end of the night."
Since JJ had told them that the victims had all been abducted from popular bars in peak hour, Daisy had very little time to get her shit together. She'd gotten ready at the office, the team clearly worried about what she was heading into. Spencer had give her every statistic he could think of, from security in clubs to what kind of shoes were best to wear when the floor was sticky.
It was nearing midnight, and the club was in full swing. Daisy's feet were already aching from the heels she'd borrowed from Emily - black pumps had never really been her style. She usually loved the club scene and how alive it made her feel, but she really just wanted to be curled up in bed with a shitty reality show in the background to lull her to sleep.
She resisted the urge to look around, worried she'd blow the whole thing. Instead, her hands gripped her glass of lemonade (she wasn't allowed alcohol due to the pain medication she had been prescribed), as if it were the one thing keeping her from passing out. Derek noticed her discomfort, and slung an arm around her. Daisy looked up at him, suddenly remembering where she was. "Come on, we gotta sell this. Let's dance."
She nodded, finishing her drink and letting him take her by the hand. He lead her to the dance floor, never letting go. The sweaty atmosphere surrounding her created an instant friction, and she looked up at Derek. Her dress was beginning to cling to her skin, but she didn't really care about that.
"Eyes on me, okay?" he said, taking her by the waist and starting to move with her to the beat. Daisy nodded, letting him pull her closer so that their bodies pressed against each other. They began grinding back and forth to the fast-paced music, and, as instructed, she made sure she never broke eye contact with the man.
