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Since I started working with the BAU team, Aaron Hotchner and I slept in the same room when we were out in the field investigating. It just came so naturally; it never got awkward or became too much. It became our habit somewhere back in my first case. I understood, why it turned this way. Hotch was the boss, he liked to keep on track, to be up to date with even the smallest piece of information, and as I was the liaison between the team and the police offices and the media, I could give him a heads up anytime he wanted. I really didn't mind. And after three years of working together in the closest meaning of the word, we really became like high school students in their dorm these times. We learned what toiletries the other used, we happily handed into the bathroom the forgotten pajamas or towels, and of course, we were familiar with each other's sleeping routine.
If I wanted to be awfully honest with myself, I had developed feelings for Hotchner as time passed. Who wouldn't? He was handsome, he was clever, he was caring and, even if it seemed impossible, he was funny. His dedication to his work was enviable, and I was impressed by the determination with which he led the team. I found that he also had a soft, gentle side to him, which he showed only after hard work, a long time, and carefully built trust. You had to break down the walls he had built around himself, but it wasn't easy and he often wouldn't let you. But it was all worth it.
In our current case, our room only had a large double bed. We did not book it that way, but we had this situation a few times over the years (and my heart was racing just as fast every time). We were at the end of the third day; that night I just wanted to lay my head, and basically, any bed would be fine. During the day while running after an unsub I fell on my left hand, which was then limp and swollen. Alex and JJ kept teasing me until I went to the emergency room of a nearby hospital at the end of the day; fortunately, they found no fracture, only a severe sprain.
Hotch wasn't present when the accident happened nor when the girls took me to the hospital, but I knew someone from the team told him. When we retired back to our hotel rooms and finished the nighttime routine, I became sure about it.
"I'm sorry for your hand" I heard Hotch murmuring from the bed, where he was laying, reading. I scooped a little cream from the jar that I got from the doctor, and as I spread it on my wrist, I turned in his direction.
"It's fine," I assured him. "But thank you for being concerned," I added, smiling. I walked up to the bed and laid myself next to him.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly a few minutes later.
"It's… a bit sore" I admitted. "But it's really nothing" I smiled at him. Hotch glanced at me quickly, but then returned to read the file.
"I should keep you in the office tomorrow," he said casually, didn't even mind looking at me, but it almost made me sit up in shock.
"AARON?" I exclaimed, but I couldn't say anything more. I was fixating on his face, waiting for his next words. "Hotch, are you kidding? It's fine, it's my left hand, I can hold the gun, I can run, I can write, why would yo…"
When I suddenly realized what was happening and went silent, Hotch peeked down at me, at the horror on my face, then he burst out in laughter. I've seen him laugh sometimes, but that night, in that bed next to me, I saw genuine happiness on his face as he laughed with his mouth full. Slowly a wide smile formed on my face too.
"Oh my God," it was the only thing I could say while shaking my head in disbelief. "And you're saying you care about me? Should have been there? Jokes on you" I laughed. I pulled the little pillow under my head and carefully hit him.
Silence fell between us which I couldn't bear for a long time.
"Have you thought about going to sleep tonight, or it'll be just reading and thinking?" I asked mockingly, but kindly. As I was laying next to him, my right reached for the file and softly pulled it out from his hands. Aaron, luckily for him, let it without a word. I put the papers on the bedside table.
As I rolled on my right side, I put my hands in front of my face. I scanned Aaron's profile. The wrinkles on his forehead signed his brain was still working at high speed. I knew he was reliving the events of the day, he was counting all the evidence we found, he was analyzing all the interviews with the family members again.
"You can't switch it off, can you?" I asked caringly. He didn't react for a second, but then he slowly turned his head towards me. A slight smile was glowing on his lips. "What are you thinking about?" I asked.
"I should have been there," he murmured suddenly into the silence, which truly surprised me.
"Aaron," I whispered, almost laughing. The named one started to move; he fully rolled on his left to face me. I was almost nervous (positive nervous) by the closeness and felt my heart racing faster, but I tried to remain as calm and professional as I should have been. "It's just a bruise, not a bullet" I stated. "Plus, it's my left hand. I'm not even limited in doing anything."
I tried to smile at him, but he was looking at my wrist, colorful by then by the injury. He slowly brushed the back of his fingers through my skin, causing goosebumps on my whole body. What was happening?!
"You got hurt" he resisted. "And I wasn't there."
"But you were working hard as well. You can't be in two places at the same time" I fought back lovingly. Aaron looked me in the eye, catching my gaze for long seconds.
"Mostly I just want to be in one," he said finally. I saw him swallow hard, and it was only then that I realized that he rested his hand on mine, while my fingers were playing with his. I was truly nervous to ask, but I did it either way.
"And where would that be?" I smiled. My brain couldn't accept what my heart already knew.
"Next to you" the man breathed. When he talked low, his deep, rusty voice became the softest sound on planet Earth.
I put my head closer to him; his raven-black straight fuzz tickled my forehead. I shut my eyes, and almost immediately felt fingers caressing, palm cupping my cheek. My lips curled up into a smile, for the umpteenth time of that night. I tucked my head even closer (if that was possible), and I felt Aaron's nose touching mine. He was so near I felt his warm breath on my skin.
"Let's finish this case first" he murmured right onto my lips as if he was reading my mind. His mouth brushed mine, but never really touched it. I felt my whole body shaking for a slow kiss, for just a little peck, for a slight touch…
"Of course" I breathed back finally. Obviously, job first. "How couldn't I see all this?" I asked some long minutes later. Before answering, Hotch pulled back a bit and smiled at me. He suddenly freed me from his touch.
"Come here," he asked after he rolled onto his back again. I happily laid my head on his broad shoulder and nudged my forehead right into his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin on mine. "I tried to hide it until I was brave enough," he admitted then, whispering. His left hand was wandering around on my back, leaving goosebumps behind his fingers as they were drawing circles there.
"Well, you must be a king in poker as well" I laughed. "But you did see it on me" the realization hit me.
"I'm a profiler" he shrugged, but I felt the pride in his voice. I shook my head in disbelief. I knew he was going to be the death of me.