Work Text:
So,
you’re going undercover for the first time. Already a pretty big deal. To add to that, you’re going undercover with your boss – the man you’ve been crushing on for almost a year now. Now, a pretty bigger deal. And finally, you’re going undercover with your boss, who you’ve had a crush on for almost a year now, and you’re pretending to be newlyweds moving into a very private gated community. A massive deal.
All these thoughts were rushing around Y/N’s head as she sat in the passenger seat of a rolling SUV. The metal tin jostled about as her hands fidgeted with her phone, with lint on her clothes or dust on the seats. Her chaotic fidgeting contrasted with Hotch’s steady hands as he gripped the steering wheel. The silence was painful! The rumbling of the tires on the road was not enough to block out Y/N’s agonizing thoughts. Hotch seemed comfortable enough, his eyes staying focused on the road and his breathing natural. She tried not to stare, to obsess over the man’s prominent profile, dark hair, and brooding eyes. She tried not to linger on his strong dominating hands, imagining what they would be like roaming her body. What it would be like to have them wrapped around her…
“Shall we go over the case details again?” His voice snapped Y/N out of her juvenile fantasies with his deep booming authority.
“Er, yeah. Okay.” She stuttered, reaching into her bag and pulling out the case file JJ and Garcia had organized for them. “There have been a series of double murders of couples living in a wealthy gated community. All the couples appear to have gone to some sort of social fundraiser 24 hours before the murder. Their homes were obliterated, and family members said the victim’s valuables had been taken from the home and the body. Some Jewellery, watches, etc. But other valuables like TVs, cars, and technology were left behind… oh and diamond earrings were left as well.”
“It wasn’t about the robbery. The Unsub’s collecting trophies. Do we know what the significance of the jewelry was?”
“The last victim’s family said there were wedding and engagement rings along with a necklace and watch the couple recently exchanged for their anniversary. My guess is this Unsub isn’t just attacking couples but attacking the concept of marriage. They would have to know the victims well enough to know which items were sentimental to the marriage – not just valuable in the price?”
Hotch hummed in agreement. “These higher-class communities rarely socialize outside their class. The Unsub either lives or works there. News the FBI was snooping around could scare off the Unsub.”
“Hence us going undercover to bait and catch the Unsub in the act.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “Should we… should we go over the back story?”
“I think Garcia thought up some of the basics, they should be in the back of the file.” Y/N flipped through the pages until she found Garcia’s flamboyant handwriting in pink stationery with little hearts doodled in the corner.
“I don’t think this is FBI approved.” Y/N laughed, pulling out the pink piece of paper and wafting it in the air. Hotch darted his eyes quickly to the document and saw the flares of Garcia. Y/N was giddy to see a small chuckle escape his lips. “Okay, you are Aaron Steading, and I am the new Mrs. Y/N Steading, previously Y/N Brown. You are a lawyer… lucky you… and I…” Y/N sighed and shook her head.
“What?”
“To quote Miss Penelope Garcia ‘Y/N Steading is a private tutor who previously was a fabulous swimwear model.’ Subtle Pen.” Y/N scoffed, not daring to see Hotch’s reaction to her given alias but suspected she could see a grin in the corner of her eye. “We married two months ago after a 3-year relationship. Awr! Pen even found us his and hers wedding bands.” Y/N looked further at the rings bagged up and attached to the file. There was a bright gold wedding band crafted for Hotch and a matching, slightly thinner band for Y/N. Y/N was surprised to see there was also an extravagant diamond engagement ring, encrusted with sapphires. “Wow! Expensive. A bit showy for my taste. You couldn’t have picked me something more subtle?” She jibed, playing her character.
“Sorry Dear, you know I’m terrible when it comes to jewelry.” Hotch played along, secretly smiling smugly to himself when he heard Y/N’s bold laughter.
.
.
Hotch and Y/N pulled up to their new home, an oversized mansion drenched in pearly white paint. Hotch helped Y/N get out of the car as the two pretended not to notice how the mailman looked an awful lot like Rossi and the gardener held a striking resemblance to Morgan. The couple walked up to the grand double door and entered the show home, already furnished, and stocked with food. The two agents scanned the house, looking for any signs of bugs or interference before meeting in the kitchen.
“All good?”
“It’s clear,” Hotch confirmed. “Okay, let’s go over tonight then.”
Despite the series of murders, the social calendar was still in full swing, with members of the community dressed up and attending to drink expensive wine, show off their wealth and earn themselves the attention of a killer. Hotch and Y/N would go as guests to the night’s cocktails and live band events. As the newcomers, they hoped to get the community’s attention, along with the Unsub’s. The rest of the team would be in a house a few doors down from Y/N and Aaron’s. Both agents had a panic button hidden on their person if for any reason they needed their team. In the meantime, the BAU would stay behind closed doors and continue their research and profiling to try and figure out who the Unsub was. In case the profile alone was not enough to identify their killer, Y/N and Aaron were going amongst the vulnerable as bait.
“Cocktails at 8 followed by live music and dancing until midnight. Then come back here, hoping we caught the attention of the Unsub and get attacked in our sleep. Sounds like a fun Friday night.” Y/N joked nervously, jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter, her legs swinging as spoke.
“We know he goes after the wives first and with the most hatred so you can’t be out of my sight at any time,” Hotch instructed sternly.
“Oooh, red flag!” She winced. “If this marriage is going to work, you need to give me my space. You know I was an independent spirit when you married me.”
“Y/N,” Hotch both warned and begged her at the same time.
“Okay, okay,” Y/N laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “How do you want to play this? We know we have to get the Unsub’s attention, so we need to stand out from the crowd.”
“How do you suggest we do that?” Hotch asked, now leaning, and relaxing on the counter himself.
“Well, we could be one of three couples.” She counted on her hands as she spoke, raising a finger to label each scenario. “There’s the couple who hate each other and spend the whole time making a scene and arguing. The couple who can’t hold their drink and therefore make a fool of themselves with karaoke and dancing on tables...”
“I vote we don’t do the second one,” Hotch interrupted.
“Or there’s the lovely couple who makes everyone uncomfortable with how happy they are.”
“Victimology says all the couples were happy and only married a year or so.”
“So…”
“So…”
Silence washed over the kitchen as the two tried to hide their awkward blushes. Suddenly a spot on Y/N’s shoe was very interesting.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N.” Aaron broke the silence, he was always so sweet. He was so worried about upsetting her or not appearing proper. Y/N took pity and looked up to meet his eyes, smiling kindly.
“Let’s just, play the part. If I feel uncomfortable, I promise I’ll tell you. But only if you agree to the same!” Y/N jumped off the counter, presenting her smallest finger to engage Hotch in a pinkie promise.
“Really?” he raised an eyebrow as Y/N reminded him of his young son.
“Really.” Y/N nodded with a stern expression on her face. Hotch rolled his eyes and hooked his smallest finger around her.
“Promise.”
.
.
“I’m not sure about this!” Y/N called from the walk-in wardrobe.
“About going undercover?” Hotch called back, buttoning up the rest of his black shirt from the master bedroom.
“No!” Y/N replied. “This dress Pen sent over. It’s not exactly subtle.” Hotch laughed to himself. Anything involving Penelope Garcia would not be subtle.
“Is there anything else you can wear?” he offered.
“Nope! She only packed the one dress, with a note stuck onto it saying, ‘Wear the damn dress or else!’” Hotch smiled again, wandering towards the closed wardrobe doors.
“I think you’re stuck then.” He heard Y/N hum in agreement before she grunted in frustration. “You okay?”
“I can’t get this damn zip up! Oh! Hold on…. Ouch!” he heard the crash and stumble of Y/N and could only picture what acrobatics were going on in there.
“Do you need a hand?” he asked, trying to make sure his voice didn’t waver. There were a few moments of silence followed by…
“Yes please.” A meek response came from the other room. Hotch pushed the door open slowly, stepping in and observing the carnage in the room. Shoes and items of clothing had been knocked over causing havoc amongst the shelves. But that wasn’t where his attention was going.
His eyes fell straight onto the sight of Y/N’s exposed back. Her elegant spine unprotected with the back of her dress falling deliciously open. She was standing in front of the mirror, holding her hands to her chest to stop the cream dress from exposing any more of her body. Her hair was swept to one side, glossy and shining. Her feet were bare, shoes laying on the floor. She looked up at him through the mirror as he stalked over towards her. When he met her eyes, her nerves failed her, her eyes went back to the floor. Hotch forced his hands to steady as one palm rested on the curvature of her hip. When his fingertips accidentally brushed the skin above the zipper, he heard Y/N gasp lightly, shudder even. The zip was stiff, no wonder she was having such difficulty. He had to tighten his grip on her waist as he forced the zip to glide up her back and rest just below her shoulder blades. Even though the task had been complete, Hotch couldn’t bring himself to take his hands off Y/N. They stood there, his hand on her hips and staring deeply at her reflection. Her hands fell from her chest, now secure in her outfit. He could see now why Garcia had picked this dress for her. It hugged her figure perfectly, not hiding and curve on her body. The neckline dipped, exposing just slightly more cleavage than he imagined Y/N was comfortable with. But it exposed her elegant neck and shoulders beautifully.
She finally looked up, meeting his eyes through the mirror. Her bright doe eyes could make Hotch do anything she wanted.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. Hotch felt reality hit him again, his hands fumbling away from her body and stepping backward.
“You’re welcome. Be ready in 15 minutes.” He practically ran out the door, leaving Y/N’s skin burnt from his touch and her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.
.
.
Y/N stepped out into the warm summer night, heels tapping on the stone floor as she walked to meet Hotch at the bottom of the drive.
“You look good,” Y/N commented, taking in his dark suit. “But something is missing.” Hotch frowned looking down at his outfit for whatever was missing. Had he forgotten a button, was his zipper down? Y/N smiled as she teased, pulling her hand from behind her back and presenting Hotch with a black leather box. “Happy 2-month anniversary.” Hotch laughed in understanding, digging into his pocket to pull out a smaller blue velvet box.
“Great minds.” The couple smiled as they exchanged boxes. The gifts were bait, along with their obvious wedding rings. They were symbols of their marriage that they had to flash and show off to the members of the community. Hotch opened the box to see an expensive dark brown vintage Rolex in perfect condition. Y/N was greeted with a white gold necklace with a subtle but clear diamond dangling in a pendant.
Across the street, a man left his house. He was dressed in a flashy grey suit and leather brown shoes.
“Miranda! Come on!” he yelled into the house. “We’re going to be late!” He looked at Hotch and Y/N with brief intrigue, pressing the start button on the game the two agents were about to play.
“Here,” Y/n stepped closer to Hotch, ready to play her part. She took the watch from the box and reached to hold Hotch’s wrist in her hand. She wrapped the watch around his wrist before stroking the top of his hand lovingly. The box was left on the floor as they smiled at one another, only half pretending to enjoy the intimacy.
“May I?” Hotch asked, nodding towards the necklace. Y/N turned around, gathering her hair out of the way. Hotch gently took the chain out of its box before discarding the packaging along with the other on the floor. The light weight of the necklace met her neck along with the touch of his skin on hers. She tried to keep her breathing steady as he fastened the clasp and let his hands rest on her shoulders affectionately. Y/N turned in his hands looking up at him with a comforting gaze. She reached up on her toes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.
“Happy 2-months.”
“Happy 2-months.”
“MIRANDA! COME ON!” The man’s impatient yelling made the two agents jump and part slightly. They both laughed before linking arms and began walking to the hall.
.
.
Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they stepped into the ballroom. It was like walking into an old renaissance painting. The guests were extravagant, drenched in jewels and colors that sparkled in the low light. The dark mahogany floor was the perfect backdrop for billowing skirts of magenta, emerald green, and bright turquoise. Y/N looked at the men in tailored suits, their understated nature meant to only bring out even more attention to their well-painted wives. Y/N was beginning to wonder if she should have asked Garcia for a brighter colored dress. She tried to look past the peacocks roaming the grounds and took more time to take in their surroundings. The ceilings appeared as if they would go on forever, dipped with pure white paint with golden accents. There were deep carvings and molds incorporated into solid wood, adding more elaborate decorations alongside the shining crystal chandeliers. A live band was situated in the center of the room, large and beautiful instruments producing sweet melodies that no one was dancing to.
“This is beautiful,” Y/N said aloud to herself.
“If you like this sort of thing,” Aaron murmured as they began walking towards the bar.
“What do you mean? It’s so grand and expensive!”
“I prefer understated beauty. A real beauty.” His eyes roamed across Y/N, bringing a heavy blush to her cheeks. With the way he was smiling at her, she suddenly felt more superior to any rich millionairess in this room. In a grand ball of women in expensive gowns, he was only interested in her. Just her in a simple black dress. Before Y/N had the time to remind herself that this was all an act, this was him playing the part, a young man with the beginnings of facial hair appeared beside them.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked politely.
“Yes, a scotch and…” Aaron ordered Y/N’s favorite drink, surprising her that he had that knowledge in his brain at all. And yet he did.
Their drinks were presented in crystal glasses, frosted as they had been kept cool. The two undercover agents clinked glasses in cheers and swallowed small sips. Aaron stepped close enough to rest his and on the lower of Y/N’s back, keeping her close as they scanned the other residents in the room. They were all couples. Women rested on their husband’s arms, batting their eyelashes, and smiling obediently. The men nodded grandly at other men, all with an air of arrogance Y/N couldn’t imagine Aaron possessing. The women laughed at jokes they hadn’t listened to, and men groped at women that weren’t their wives. They both watched as the man from the street earlier, appeared with his wife on his arm. She was dressed in a bright pink dress that fell off the shoulder, lipstick matching the shade of fabric she was drenched in. They walked in together, already bickering about something. But the moment another man and his wife approached, they painted on false smiles and leaned into one another. Hotch and Y/N both raised their eyebrows, a profiler’s mind never resting.
“Hypocritical, right?” the agents both turned back around to meet eyes with the bartender.
“Excuse me?” Y/N asked.
“A lot of couples around here are like that. They pretend to be perfect on the outside, but they’re only together to save face.”
“You sound like an expert in that field,” Aaron commented with a suspicious squint, his hand gripping tighter around Y/N’s waist.
He’s just playing the part; he’s just playing the part – Y/N echoed to herself.
“People around here talk as if there isn’t staff everywhere. You can usually tell how recent an argument is based on how flashy the newest diamond the wife is wearing.” The bartender laughed bitterly before another patron beckoned his attention.
Aaron and Y/N turned back to the hall; their suspicions of fake happy marriages were confirmed.
“We need to mingle, don’t we?” Y/N groaned.
“I’m afraid so. Where do you want to start?” The two both looked around the room, trying to figure out who to approach first. “How about the peacocks over there?” Hotch nodded towards a couple standing by the large grand window. They were wearing heavily patterned outfits, rings on most fingers and designer logos on their bags and watches. A small crowd of people had gathered around them, listening to their every word. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head.
“It would look too needy. Like we’re trying to get people’s attention, not be dismissed right away. What about them?” Y/N nodded towards a couple hovering by the buffet. Their outfits were dark, blending into the shadows. Hotch shook his head.
“Not flashy enough, we’ll just blend into the background. We need the elite social members to come to us. But how?” Y/N knew Aaron was just talking to himself now, thinking out loud and trying to come up with a strategy.
“I know.” She snaked her hand around her back, taking his hand and pulling him with her as she walked across the polished wooden floors. Aaron was preparing himself to be pulled into social interaction, to play his character in full. But suddenly Y/N stopped walking. She turned to face him with a nervous smile on her face. He squinted down at her in confusion. Her small hands skimmed up his chest and behind his neck. He felt her fingers brush against the tuff of his hair as they entwined and locked. “Wrap your hands around my waist.” She whispered quietly.
“Why” Hotch frowned, not aware that his hands were already following her instructions.
“Because married couples usually hold each other whilst they dance.” She hushed up towards him. Aaron’s eyes darted around as he became aware of where they were standing, and that they were the only ones standing there.
“Y/N, no one else is dancing.” He protested lightly. Y/N lifted on her toes, her lips coming to rest by the side of Aaron’s face. With her scent encapsulating his senses, the tickle of her hair against his cheek, his grip on her dress tightened.
“Then we’re bound to get their attention.” Her light and breathy voice ran through him, intoxicating him more than any brand or scotch could. She returned to her normal height with a cheeky smirk on her face. He was bewitched. He laughed and shook his head as he settled his palms spread across her back.
“You know I’m a terrible dancer. Remember our wedding?” he may have been talking like someone else, but the glint in his eyes was all Aaron Hotchner.
“You mean when you stumbled over my dress and fell into the wedding cake?”
“Yes, that.” Aaron laughed.
“Well, then I guess you can use tonight to redeem yourself.”
The two held one another, teasing and playing their roles, but still not dancing. It wasn’t until the casual background music melded into a familiar melody that Aaron began to move his feet lightly.
I love how your eyes close whenever you kiss me
And when I'm away from you I love how you miss me
I love the way you always treat me tenderly
But, darling, most of all I love how you love me
Y/N felt a tingle across her skin as Aaron’s arm snaked around her waist. His nervous unsure hands that had been hovering on her hips, were now moving with intent. He released one hand to reach and grab one of hers. Their hands. entwined together, rested on his chest. Y/N could feel the heavy beating of his heart from underneath their clasped hands. Eager to feel more sensations of Aaron, her spare hands stayed settled around the back of his neck. Her fingers and thumb slowly brushed and played with a tuff of hair, matching the rhythm of their feet. His short hair felt soft against her skin, tickling her fingertips as her nails scratched comfortingly at his scalp.
I love how your heart beats whenever I hold you
I love how you think of me without being told to
I love the way your touch is always heavenly
But, darling, most of all I love how you love me
Aaron felt her body beating in his arms and suddenly he felt far too warm, too hot, and overwhelmed by how she managed to encapsulate his mind just by standing before him. He looked down at her, his gaze heavy and burying to meet her eyes. He was a profiler with the ability to read the unspoken words in front of him, but looking at Y/N, all the words blurred and turned to noise. She was playing with his hair, and it made him want to bury his face in her neck, breathe her in, and fall asleep as she stroked and caressed his neck. A blush crossed her face before she ducked her head and placed her cheek on his chest. He held her tightly, squeezing her body close to him and resting his chin on the top of her hair. Both closed their eyes and allowed the music to guide their movements since their minds were too occupied with mapping and memorizing how each other’s hold felt against their skin. The song went on and one by one, couples began to join them on the dancefloor. All of this was unknown to the two agents. They couldn’t care less about whether they had achieved their goal of grabbing people’s attention. Perhaps that lack of care was what pulled everyone’s eyes to the understated and unknown couple alone on the dancefloor, staring deeply and swaying against one another. An involuntary content sigh fell from Y/N’s lips as she closed her eyes and held Aaron’s hand a little tighter. He smiled, pressing a light kiss to the top of her sweet-smelling hair.
I love how you hug me
I love how you squeeze me, tease me, please me
Love, how you love me
I love how you love me
Playfulness bubbled inside Aaron as feelings he hadn’t experienced in years were provoked inside of him. He pulled away from Y/N slightly, enough to make her stand upright, but not enough to separate their bodies. Her wide eyes looked up with the fear of disappointment before transforming into creased laughter and shock. He held her securely and dipped her body backward in an old-fashioned charming dance maneuver. The echo of her laugh radiated amongst the room, ringing in Aaron’s ears. He pulled her up again, pressing a smiling kiss to the temple of her head before pulling her in again, their swaying and comforting movements returned.
The song came to its end, but Hotch and Y/N were holding onto one another as if the melody was still going. They smiled up at one another so brightly Hotch thought he would have to squint. Y/N’s laughter bubbled in her chest as she swooned in Hotch’s embrace, not quite believing the scenario she found herself in.
“Aren’t you two adorable!” A screeching voice cut through their moment like a blade. They two turned their heads to see the woman who was standing by the window earlier. Her bright blue and green dress billowing at her waist, her teased hair towering towards the ceiling.
“Oh, hello.” Y/N blushed, leaning into Aaron’s chest. “I’m Y/N and this is my husband, Aaron.”
“Nice to meet you,” Aaron nodded politely.
“Indeed,” the woman practically purred, staring Aaron up and down. “You just moved into number 16, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right. Our first home together.” Y/N grinned up at Aaron, painting her best gooey look of love on her face.
“Newlyweds!” The woman exclaimed. “Let me see the ring!” The woman reached forward, snatching Y/N’s hand from Aaron’s chest, pulling her towards her eye. The woman squinted looking down at the rings on Y/N’s fingers. Y/N swore she saw dollar signs appear in her irises. “Cartier? No, wait, Aurelia and Pierre!”
“You know your diamonds,” Aaron commented, trying to sound slightly pompous. The woman laughed loudly, dropping Y/N’s hand, and flashing her own, which dripped in gems.
“Is it not obvious?” she cackled. “Yes, my husband,” she sighed. “He manufactures jewelry for all the best designer stores.” Aaron and Y/N shared a look of fake 'impress' as the woman admired the rings on her fingers. “We only like genuine diamonds in this community and me and my husband are adapting at spotting fakes if you get my drift?” The woman eyes the couple suspiciously, communicating a slight warning not so subtly.
“Care to elaborate?” Y/N felt Hotch tighten his grip on her waist, a warning she was pushing it too far.
“Well take those two over there,” The woman pointed to the couple in dark clothing, hiding in the shadows. “You’ll notice they’re over there, and we’re over here. Enough money to get through the gate, but not enough to stay.” Y/N and Hotch spent less time observing the casual guests in the corner and more time watching the disgust on the rich woman’s face. She almost shivered and the imaginary dirt these people could be bringing into her fancy gated community. She turned back to the newest couple in front of her, painting on an obnoxious and fake smile. “But with diamonds like that…” She nodded back to Y/N’s engagement ring. “I’m sure you’ll fit in fine around here. And a matching necklace I see.” The woman now invaded the couple’s personal space, eyeing up the chain around Y/N’s neck.
“Oh! Yes,” Y/N squeaked, being pulled closer to the woman as she pulled the pendant closer. “It was a gift from Aaron. Just a silly little 2-month anniversary gift. Show her the watch I got you, darling.” Y/N breathed heavily with relief when the woman let go of her neck and instead clutched onto Aaron’s wrist.
“Vintage, how exquisite.” The woman’s eyes lit up again, dollar signs in full flow. “Well, duty calls. Best get back to my husband.” She had lost interest in the new couple, caring very little for who they were now she pegged them as upper-class.
“I don’t think we caught your name,” Aaron commented as she began to walk away, happy to have his hand back.
“Beaumont. Mrs. Baumaunt.” The woman threw behind her as she walked away, leaving the couple alone once again.
“How’s your hand?” Y/N laughed, lifting Aaron’s palm upwards to soothe the clawed skin from Mrs. Beaumont’s long fingernails.
“It feels violated. How’s your neck?” he asked genuinely, observing the light red markings from where the woman pulled too hard. He brushed his fingers along it gingerly, testing how tender the skin was.
“It’s fine,” Y/N wrapped her hand around Aaron’s pulling it away from her neck and removing his worry. She kissed his knuckles sweetly. Aaron felt a heat wave through his cheeks.
She is just playing the part; she is just playing the part. - He repeated to himself continuously.
“Let’s get a drink.”
The couple returned to the bar to get another drink, sitting on stools, and chatting happily with one another. Unaware that their every move was now being watched.
They had succeeded in getting the Unsub’s attention.
.
.
It was nearing midnight, but the night continued with live music, champagne glasses being poured and clinking against one another. Y/N and Aaron continued to dance, keeping their hands casually on one another and casually showing off their sentimental belongings in conversation. It was easy enough. People were asking questions about how long they had been married. Making the anniversary gifts seem a natural addition to the conversation.
Y/N had been pulled into a circle of wives, all gushing over her necklace and asking her questions about her husband, as Aaron was ushered to a table of men. He kept Y/N in his sights, half listening to the words of rich men around him, half admiring the way the silk dress fell against her body. Admiring how her hair seemed to glimmer when she laughed and shook her head.
“Oh, you can tell the marriage is new! He still has that look in his eyes!” Aaron heard the rumbling of older laughter from the men beside him. He turned to see them smirking at him.
“My apologies.” He smiled politely.
“Give it time, son.” One man grumbled. “That look of admiration for your wife goes after 10 years.”
“George, don’t scare the boy.” Another man whacked his friend playfully. “Besides, you’re spoiling the ending for him.”
“I’m sorry, gentleman but I am still very much in love with my wife.” Aaron kept his tone light, pretending to enjoy the banter being thrown his way.
“That’s what I said when I first moved here.” The man from earlier, shouting at his wife from outside his house spoke with no humor in his tone at all. “Then the wives all start to compete with one another. Who has the most expensive wardrobe? Who can make their husband spend the most money.” The man appeared to be talking to himself, mumbling into his drink bitterly.
“Don’t mind Fredrick,” the man sitting next to Hotch whispered to him. “Mr. Frank is … struggling, let’s say. Used to own two houses in this community. Now he’s renting one out as a holiday home. The wife never got the memo that they were on a budget.” The man nodded over to a bright fuchsia dress, Maria if Hotch remembered correctly, staring enviously at the necklace around Y/N’s neck. An urge of protectiveness came over Aaron as he saw the way the woman was staring intently at the jewel around her neck, and not in admiration or envious fashion. The woman didn’t want a necklace like Y/N’s, she wanted that necklace instead of Y/N.
Aaron got to his feet, taking quick large strides through the crowd to reach Y/N. She didn’t see him coming but felt the sweep of his arm around her waist when he approached.
“Excuse me, ladies, may I borrow my beautiful wife for a moment.” The women all cooed and swooned as Aaron took Y/N to the center of the dance floor and pulled her close to him.
“Are you okay?” she asked as they began to sway again.
“What do you think of Maria Franks? Woman in the pink dress.” He whispered closer into her ear, burying his head in her neck, pretending to be whispering some seductive romantic conversation for those observing their movements.
“Well, she’s not in the inner circle and not happy about it. I thought she was going to snatch the necklace from around my throat.”
“So did I, why do you think I came over here?”
“And here I was thinking you just wanted to dance with your beautiful wife.” Y/N teased, enjoying the ruffled blush that came across Aaron’s face. He shook his head playfully.
“Rumour has it, her husband is having money issues. He’s renting out one of his homes.”
“Really?” Y/N asked, genuine intrigue in her voice. “Maria was boasting about how well they were doing! Showing off her new encrusted clutch.” Y/N put on a snooty voice and scrunched nose that made Hotch chuckle and hides his head in her neck again. Y/N laughed with him, diving her hand to nestle in his dark soft hair.
“So, Mrs Baumaunt and Maria Franks. That’s two suspects we can ask Garcia to check out if we make it through the night alive.” Hotch lifted his head, looking at her was intensity now. He knew she was joking, but the thought of Y/N being in harm’s way hit him like a ball to the stomach. Their plan went through his head again and he had forgotten that they weren’t there just to investigate. They were there as bait. They were hoping to be followed home and possibly attacked. And if the past crime scenes were anything to go buy, Y/N was in more danger than him. “What? What’s wrong.” Y/N asked seeing the concern on his face.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? You’ll be safe.”
“I know,” Y/N nodded her head, her hand stroking the side of his face reassuringly. “I trust you.”
The song they had been swaying to hide their conversation faded. The room turned to clap politely. Y/N and Aron pulled themselves awkwardly away from each other’s bodies to do the same.
“Okay folks! It's officially midnight so this will be our last song. So, here’s your last chance for one last dance.” The band began to play a soft melody and wives pulled their husbands onto the floor one last time.
“One last dance?” Y/N shrugged. Aaron nodded, relieved to pull her into his arms again.
.
.
Even though the band had finished their final song, many couples stayed happily seated in the ballroom, talking, and finishing the last of the event's wine. Aaron and Y/N stayed as long as they could, conversing with anyone they might have missed, and even talking to staff. But around 1 am, couples were yawning and agreed to call it a night. Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N had barely shivered before Aaron placed his jacket around Y/N’s shoulders. They walked along the dark paths with their hands wrapped around each other’s smiling and talking as any other couple coming home from a date.
“Did you see the woman in purple?” Y/N laughed.
“She was covered in so much fur, I thought she was a Muppet.” Aaron laughed with her. They came to the bottom of their drive and stopped, looking up at the house and reality crashing down on them once again. They faced one another.
“It’s likely nothing will happen.” Aaron tried to reassure her. If they had succeeded, when they closed the front door and went into their bedroom, it would only be a matter of hours before an intruder broke in, taking out their anger on Y/N more than Aaron, before putting them both in a box labeled 6 feet under.
“I know.” Hotch sighed heavily, knowing no words could bring either of them comfort right now. He stepped forward, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly. She smiled with watery eyes before closing them and indulging herself in leaning towards his touch. Hotch pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair and back in comfort. It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing away all caution and pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him in return, an attempt to comfort him as much as he was comforting her.
A loud scream and clatter came from the distance. Y/N and Aaron ripped away from one another, looking at the houses further down the street. Perhaps someone else had gotten the Unsub’s attention. Y/N watched the alert turn on inside Hotch, she turned and gripped her face in his palms.
“Go inside, lock the door and call the team!” He was already running before Y/N could ask what in hell he was thinking of doing.
“Aaron!” she yelled after him as he sprinted into the dark. “Shit.” She cursed to herself.
Her training and years in the field kicked in. Her cover was no longer something to worry about. Her priority was getting the rest of the team alerted and that Hotch had backup. Her dress wrapped around her legs, slowing her down as she ran up the stairs. When she made it to the door, she was already searching through Aaron’s jacket pocket to find the keys. She had only just put the keys through the lock when the stinging pain ripped through her senses and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. The chain that had previously been so carefully planted around her neck, was now digging into her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her hands clawed at the metal, trying to bury her fingers underneath the chain to protect her skin. Her fingertips had managed to pull the necklace away slightly when it snapped and fell to the ground. Gasping for air Y/N turned and saw a man with a sweaty face in a blue and black tux breathing heavily and eyes burning at her. He screamed furiously, his hands diving towards her neck and pushing her against the door of the house. Y/N tried to scream, tried to reach for something to push the man away, but his grip was desperately tight around her throat. Her vision was fading to black. There was an agonizing ringing in her ears as the blood pooled in her head. His knee dug into her stomach, pining her further into place. Just as her eyes began to close, there was a loud bang that echoed around her. She couldn’t see but she felt the weight of something heavy fall against her, crushing her to the floor – but now she could breathe.
She pushed away whatever weight was pressing down on her and rolled onto her stomach. She gasped desperately, still trying to scream for Aaron. She felt the padding of hands on her arms, but with the lack of sight to guide her, she panicked. She fought back, punching and hitting as hard as she could.
“It’s me! Y/N it’s me!” she heard Aaron’s fearful voice, followed by the blurry shapes of him coming into focus. Her hands finally stilled as she felt Hotch’s thumb brushing up and down her pulse point. She couldn’t whisper his name; she couldn’t ask him what was going on. She looked around and saw the man lying face down on the floor, a violent bullet wound oozing blood out the back of his head. She saw the gun discarded on the floor and recognized the standard FBI issue. A picture was being painted in her head, her breathing shallow and becoming rapid. Everything was noisy, everything was blurry. Aaron put his hands on either side of her head again, pulling her attention to him. “You’re okay. It’s over.” He said it over, and over again. He continued to repeat it even after she began to sob a silent scream and fell into his chest.
.
.
The papers would report the headlines, but the details were typed up in a government report and filed in the FBI database. Desperate times had led Maria and Fredrick Franks to turn on their community. After being fired by Mrs Baumaunt’s husband, the couple struggled to keep up with the appearance and expectations of living in this gated community. Sick of the other wives looking down on them, Maria manipulated her husband into standing by as she broke into couple’s houses and stole their jewelry. But as they always do, things escalated. The couples woke up and the husband-and-wife team attacked. As burglary turned to murder, the guilt ate away at Fredrick and increased his drinking. That was until one night, after another charity event of dancing, after hearing his wife bitch and complain about the latest couple to join their community. After hearing how they had been approved into the inner circle almost immediately and how she wanted what they had. He was drunk, he snapped, and he shot her. But then what? The cycle wasn’t complete. After they killed, they had some sort of prized possession to either keep or sell. So, Fredrick followed his wife’s last want and went after the necklace of the new woman on the block. But this woman was an agent, with the backup of her partner who witnessed the attack and was able to grab his gun from his ankle holster and shoot him in the head.
All of this would be in the report, but the facts that wouldn’t make it to print were that Aaron Hotchner spent over an hour pacing back and forth, waiting for a medic to appear from behind an ambulance and give him the thumbs up. The team was throwing questions at him, faster than he could answer. So, he stopped answering and started pacing.
Y/N sat on the ambulance bed, trying not to wince too dramatically as the medic checked her bruising for any open wounds. She checked her vitals along with her brain’s basic functioning and wrapped her in a blanket for the shock.
“I want you to take it easy for a few days. Physically you’re okay but you might have delayed shock.” Y/N nodded silently.
“Can you…” she coughed, her voice still raspy and returning to her. “Can you get Agent Hotchner?” The medic nodded with a light smile and disappeared to go and retrieve Aaron. Y/N barely had a second to take a deep breath before he was rushing to her side.
“Y/N,” he breathed desperately, hands holding her face, gently turning her cheeks left and right to check her neck.
“Hotch,” Y/N tried to calm him. His hands kept fussing. “Hotch, please.” She felt the tears brimming in her eyes. “Aaron,” tears finally fell down her cheek, the splash of cold water on the tips of her fingers finally halting Aaron’s fevered worry. His eyes met hers, bloodshot and wide, filling with his own tears.
“Oh Y/N,” he pulled her into his neck, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling the vibration of her sobs against him. Her hands wrapped around his body and clang to him painfully tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should never have left you.”
“No,” Y/n managed to splutter out, pulling away enough to stay in Aaron’s arms but far enough to see his face. “You did the right thing. You saved me.” She gave him a watery smile, her hands coming to his cheek to wipe away his tears. “I didn’t ask you here for you to say sorry. I wanted to tell you…” the words got lost in her throat again, a painful cough erupting from her chest. Aaron pulled away to rub his hand against her back as she spluttered. She looked up at him and laughed slightly. “The entire time that guy was choking me, do you know what I couldn’t stop thinking?”
“What couldn’t you stop thinking?” he whispered.
“I never thanked you.” Aaron looked at Y/N with tearful confusion. “For tonight. I know you were just playing the part but… keeping your hand on my back. Dancing with me.” She chuckled before blushing and looking away at the ground. “Kissing my head and holding my hand... I know you were playing the part but…”
She’s said that twice now – he thought - She sounds… disappointed?
“But it meant a lot.” She admitted, finally looking up with an embarrassed smile.
“Y/N,” his hand returned to rest on her cheek, feeling like its natural resting place. “I was not just playing the part.”
“You weren’t?” she sniffled.
“No.”
Both of their breathing seemed to halt and freeze in their chests as they realized how close they were to one another. Aaron felt the tear moisture on her soft cheek underneath his palm, the silk of her dress underneath his hand as it fell to her knee. Y/N saw the change in his eyes as his hand left her knee and joined her on the other side of her face. Had she leaned into him? Or had he pulled her in? The questions left her mind as her eyes fluttered close and his lips pressed firmly onto her. A brief kiss. It lasted only a couple of seconds, barely enough time for Y/N to fall into the kiss before Aaron pulled away. He scanned her face, trying to take in her reaction. “Were you… just playing the part?” he asked nervously.
“No.” she shook her head quickly, head still cradled in his hands. The relieved smile on his face was the last thing Y/N saw before she took initiative. This time she knew she had leaned into him. She knew she clung to his shirt and pulled him closer to her as their lips merged. Their lips caressed one another more this time, but both agents kissed slowly – desperate to make the encounter last. Desperate to map and memorize every taste of expensive wine. Every smell of each other’s cologne and perfume. Every feeling of their beating hearts and every feeling of soft lips against slightly coarse lips.
Waves of emotions and exhaustion washed over Y/N as Aaron pulled away lightly, resting his forehead against hers. Everything had changed now and neither knew if it was for better or worse. But right now, Y/N and Aaron both took great comfort as Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head into his neck. Her eyes went hazy and heavy as the emotional toll of the evening caught up to her.
That night Aaron would watch carefully as Y/N reassured their team that she was fine, that she just needed rest. Aaron would offer to drive her back to her apartment, with no suspicious eyes from the team. This was an understandable move on his part. He would hold her hand as they drove to her building. He would keep his hand on the lower of her back as they walked to her door, and he would check the locks on her doors and windows as she changed into her pajamas. She would giggle as he tucked the duvet around her body and order her to get a good night’s sleep before kissing her forehead. Just as he went to pull away, whispering his ‘goodnights,’ she pulled up and pulled him to kiss her lips.
Aaron was smiling the entire drive home to his son. He was still smiling as he checked his son was sleeping well. He was still smiling as he settled himself into bed and went over the memories of dancing and kissing her.