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FOR THE past several weeks, Ophelia remained unit chief, this time without Hotch, as he was still on personal leave. During that time, she wondered if she should contact him, reach out to see if he needed help. She couldn't help but worry that would make Aaron feel rushed into talking about the events that took place , however. She decided to give him a while, to spend time with his son, and rest. After catching wind that he would be returning, she decided it would be a good time to possibly catch up with him. After all, she deeply missed their evening conversations and discussing their lives with one another. Of course, they would never share much about their personal lives, only their work lives.
"Have you talked to Hotch?" Spencer asked as Ophelia sat down at her new desk next to him. She avoided his eyes and organized the sprawled papers in front of her instead. "No, I haven't" She answered softly, opening up a file and beginning to write. Spencer knew this of course. "He's been asking about you," This caught Ophelia's attention. She immediately faced his smug face. "He has?" She quizzed him, lighting biting the inside of her cheek. He nodded and took a sip of his third cup of coffee. "Looks like Ophelia's got a boy crush," Derek teased as he sat across from her. She rolled her eyes and buried herself in her paperwork for the rest of the day, rarely letting her mind wander to how Aaron was doing.
Several hours later, all of the agents had filed out for the night, except for Ophelia. She had finished her paperwork, and was waiting anxiously by her phone, internally arguing with herself on whether she should pick it up or not. Her body got the best of her mind and she snatched the phone off of her desk and dialed Aaron's number. He picked up before she could recount her decision. "Ophelia?" Ophelia. "Yeah, hi," She began, an idiot grin forming on her face. "Can I come over?" She even surprised herself with her bravery; asking her boss if she could come over. There was a short pause on Aaron's end of the call before he answered. "Uh, yeah-- sure, I just put Jack to bed," He replied. Ophelia's smile grew wider. "Okay, I'm, uh-- on my way," She breathed. Hotch let out a small chuckle. "Okay," Ophelia could hear his smile through the speaker.
She softly knocked on his apartment door, hearing his signature thudding footsteps trail towards her. He swung the door open, smiling weakly as he met her familiar face. It was calming to see her, something consistent in his life. He was wearing an emerald quarter zip and grey sweatpants. Other than a hospital gown, all Ophelia had seen him in was a black suit. It was refreshing to see him in something comfortable, and he looked admittedly attractive. "Hi," She blushed. He mirrored her rouge. "Hi," He opened to door all the way and allowed her into his home. He shut the door behind her and watched at she surveyed his cozy living room. His apartment was similar to his office; tidy, yet warm and inviting. "Would you like a drink?" He asked, gesturing towards the small bar in the corner of the lounging area. She nodded; the smile had never left her face. "Scotch or white?" He asked, grabbing two glasses from the shelves below the small table top. "White, please," She replied, still taking in her surroundings. The leather, plush-looking couch was a definite upgrade from that god-awful hospital chair. She looked back at Aaron to see him offering her a glass, filled half way with chilled white wine. "Thank you," He took her bag from her arm and placed it on a hook next to his coats. "Sit," He offered, nursing his own glass of scotch. She obeyed and took the seat on the opposite end of the couch and tucked her feet beneath her thighs. Hotch crossed one leg over the other in her direction, his body language still open to her. "So how've you been doing?" Hotch's face grew tired. He really didn't want to get into how he was feeling. Truthfully, because he didn't have an answer. All he felt was numbness, besides the overwhelming guilt he gained from having a connection to his ex-wife's killer. "Trying not to think about it," He responded admittedly, taking a large sip of his scotch. She sighed. She couldn't imagine how he was feeling. She had no idea what to say to comfort him. "I don't know who my parents are," She blurted out. His eyes fell on her at once, confused. "They left me at a fire station," She gulped; it was too late to backtrack on her story now. "I bounced between different children's homes my entire life. There wasn't a big foster community where I grew up, so I never really had parents," His eyes glinted with sympathy; his parents had died, but he was an adult by then. "Why are you telling me this?" Her soft face remained unfazed as she retold her childhood. He couldn't gather her intentions. "Because you have a family," She lent him a comforting expression. "Everywhere you go, Jack, the team, and I will always be your family," A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I asked to come over because I wanted to offer my help" She continued, reaching her hand out to the middle of the three-seater. "I'm here for you, Aaron," He looked at her hand, inches away from his, and looked back at her honeyed eyes. Instead of taking her hand like he so longed to do, he stood up, his now empty glass still in his hand. Ophelia withdrew her hand back into her lap as she watched Aaron loop around the side of the couch, now directly in front of her. "Thank you," He sighed, his familiarly firm expression gazing down at her. He left her there, defeated, to wash his glass in the sink a few feet away. She rose to her feet, meeting him on the other side of the island. She wasn't going to give up that easily. Just before she looked at him to speak, a small voice caught their attention from the other side of the room. "Daddy?" Ophelia turned around to see little Jack with wrinkled fish pajamas, rubbing his eyes. "Go back to bed, buddy," He called in a kind voice. Jack apparently didn't like this idea because he walked up to Ophelia instead. "Hi," He greeted her, his voice still meek and tired. Ophelia gave him a welcoming smile and bent down to his level. "Hi, Jack," She offered her hand to the boy. "My name is Ophelia. I work with your daddy," Jack squeezed her hand lightly and pushed his light brown hair out of his eyes. "So you fight bad guys?" His expression immediately perked up, no longer in his dreaming haze. Ophelia nodded. "You betcha!" She poked his small, round belly and he giggled. "Can you tell me stories about my dad fighting bad guys?" Aaron couldn't help but smile. "Oh, yeah, I've got lots of those," His eyes widened as he gasped and redirected his eyes to his father. "Can she tell me a bedtime story, daddy? Please?" He begged his father, drawing out the 'please'. Aaron sighed, but his smile remained. "One story. Then to bed." Before he could finish, Jack ran off to his room. Ophelia and Aaron shared a reassuring look before she turned to follow the boy. Aaron stayed behind to finish the dishes that piled on the counter.
Moments later, Aaron appeared in the doorway to see Ophelia, sitting next to Jack laying in his bed. "And just as the bad guy was about to get me, your daddy tackled him!" Her hands attached to the boys stomach, tickling him. He laughed, trying to separate her hands from him. "Then Morgan cuffed the guy," She continued as if she were talking to one of her coworkers. Aaron felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and joy as he saw Ophelia doing so well with his son. He hadn't looked at Ophelia in this way before this moment, but seeing the warm light from Jack's lamp illuminating her features made her look like the most beautiful woman Aaron had ever seen. And then, all he could see was her and Jack. Nothing else. "Without your daddy, we would've been in BIG trouble with that guy," She finished. Jack smiled up at her, proud of his father. Aaron shook himself out of his daze but his smile remained. "Time for bed, buddy," He stepped forward, now right next to Ophelia as she stood up. Jack let out a groan of protest that was ignored by Aaron. "Tell Miss Ophelia goodnight," He gestured towards her and she couldn't help but stare at him. "Goodnight, Miss Ophelia," Jack chimed, sounding defeated. She redirected her focus on Jack. She waved at him. "Goodnight, Jack. Sweet dreams," She trailed out of the room, leaning on the door frame as Aaron bid goodnight to his son, kissed him on the forehead, and turned off his lamp. She exited the hallway and back into the living room as Aaron gently shut the door to Jack's room. "Thank you," He nodded admittedly, a smile still lingering on his face. Maybe she could be of some help to him, and Jack especially. "Anytime, Aaron,"
