Anastasia Brooke has been a member of the BAU for four years. She loves every single one on the team like family.
And they love her equally as much too. However, a certain individual starts to realise that he wants to love Anastasia a little differe...
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Heavy rain fell outside, striking the window, causing a light tapping sound to fill the room. The bedroom was dimly lit, light flickering through the blinds, alerting you that morning had come. The clock that sat on the bedside table signaled that eight hours had passed since the team got together.
You hesitantly opened your eyes, blinking as you tried to adjust to the light. The coldness of the room caused you to shiver. Wanting to warm up and get clean, you consider a shower before going to greet Spencer.
The scalding, large shower looked extremely inviting. Stepping in, you release a breath, letting the water wash over you. Your thoughts are drawn to the events of last night.
Convincing the boys to take shots. Hotch's lips brushing your ear. Dancing with Emily. Derek's gentle teasing. Dancing with Garcia. Rescuing Hotch. Kissing Hotch's cheek. Your hands around Hotch's neck. Hotch's hands on your waist. Hotch's jacket draped on your shoulders. Hotch's goodnight text. Oh dear god, what have I done?
The water pooled around your body as you slumped to the floor. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to still your racing heartbeat. You danced, promiscuously, with your divorced boss. Who had a young son. You drop your head, cringing as the memories flood your brain.
Realizing you'd been sulking in the shower for quite some time, you finally stand up and begin drying off. You change into a tank top and jogging bottoms. You slip on your glasses, deciding against contacts.
The noise from the TV was the only sound in the apartment.
"Morning Spence."
"Morning Ana."
You drop down onto the couch next to him, leaning against his shoulder.
"How's the hangover?" He mumbles.
"Non existent, too embarrassed to even feel sorry for myself." You utter, covering your face with a pillow.
"Why?"
"Last night I was dancing with Hotch- well, grinding on Hotch." You groan.
"Grinding?"
You look up to see Spencer's confused expression. You burst out laughing, uncontrollably. You were grateful that Spencer could make you laugh when you felt so awful.
"Sexy dancing." You explain.
"Oh. Like Garcia and Morgan?" He asks, clarifying his understanding.
"Like Garcia and Morgan, yeah."
"What's wrong with that? We'd all been drinking, you and Emily more than anyone." He jests.
"But that's my Boss. Our Boss. That's not professional or appropriate." You exclaim.
"So Garcia and Morgan are unprofessional and inappropriate?" He asks, raising a questioning brow.
