Work Text:
Time, curious time
It had been quite a while since you got a job interview. You had been recommended by your friend Jessica to her brother in law to take care of her nephew for a few weeks until she comes back from a work-related trip. But first you had to be interviewed by him and Jessica warned you it was not gonna be a walk in the park.
You didn’t know if you had to look like governess or a Nanny Fine, so you went somewhere in the middle, with an oversized blazer, straight jeans, a crop top and loafers. You wanted to look professional and mature but not boring and old.
When you arrived at the Cafe, your eyes quickly searched for a man alone, who seemed like a dad, but you could not find any. Only one that was much closer to a Calvin Klein catalog than what you expected to be Jessica’s in law. He raised his hand and for a second you thought of politely saying no with your head, because you were here for a job interview not a flirt, but then realized.
“Mr. Hotchner?” You asked, once you have walked to his table.
“Yes, nice to meet you, please have a seat.” He stood up from his chair and extended a hand to you. You shared a professional hand shake and sat in front of him.
“Thank you for agreeing to this in such a short notice, I appreciate your time.” He said, raising an eyebrow, forming a crease in his forehead. “Do you have your resume?”
You handed it to him, his eyebrows remained creased as he readed it. While he did it, you ordered a latte to the waitress, his eyes quickly examined you while doing so.
“Why did you study pedagogy and education?” He asked once your coffee had arrived.
“I think the best way to eliminate violence is education, I want to contribute. Also, I like to study human behavior, in a way, and the way we educate children has a lot to do with how they grow up to be. So I’m passionate about that.” You calmly explained, his sigh was still stern. “And I also really like the outfits we get to wear as educators” you decided to throw in a small joke to get a smile but it flopped magistrally.
“According to this” he gestures to your resume, “you’ve had experience helping children to cope with trauma, can you talk me through the process?” He finished his question and took a sip of his coffee.
“Yes, sure, it’s mostly through art. We either paint, draw or sculpt feelings and we explain them, that way we can talk about ourselves while being grounded by some self made craft.”
“You bring the materials?”
“Yes, sir. In case there is anything extraordinary I’d be letting you know about extra costs, and of course it’s all based on the child’s preferences and allergies.”
“I would not want Jack to be off school, get home and feel like he still has work or school to do, how would you manage that?”
‘What a fucking jerk’ you thought, the superiority in his tone made you cringe.
“Well, yes, sir. I have a masters in Primary Education, I think I can realize when a child is bored or exhausted and change the activities for something that makes them have fun and relax. So, yeah, I am indeed trained to manage that.” You were certain that answer alone was gonna get you off the job because of the moody tone it came out with. Oddly, you saw the corners of his lips curl upwards just a little.
“He hated me” You stated the moment you picked up the phone call from your friend Jessica.
“He loved you!” She overspoke through the line.
“What?” You both said.
“You first” she requested
“He hated me, he was polite but his tone, OH MY GOD!, his tone was implying I was an idiot question after question.” You explained as you walked down the street to your apartment.
“He just called me to ask me when it’s appropriate to tell you you’ve got the job!” Your friend was laughing over the line.
“So, when is he gonna call me?”
“I said I’d tell you myself.”
You laughed through the line and yelled a little in excitement for finally getting a job.
“Let’s have dinner tonight to talk about Jack and his father.” Your friend made plans and you thought they were perfect.
“So, you’re a child’s profiler?” The tall skinny guy you had been talking to since you arrived was very interested in your work.
“Not really, no. I treat kids with trauma to avoid them growing into it.”
“But can you realize when there’s a psychopathy in them?”
“Yeah but I don’t treat them, I refer them to a psychiatrist and I advise the parents to take therapy as well.”
“That is so interesting, how do you treat them then?”
“Well, I usually work with kids than have blocked their trauma, so I can give them exercises and activities to learn it, live it, understand it and manage it—“ A voice calling your full name interrupted you. You turned and saw Mr. Hotchner on the threshold. You nodded to the young man who you were talking to and headed to your employer’s office.
“Please, come in, how can I help you?”
“Thank you. Well it’s just procedure, a few questions I have to ask before I start treating a child—“
“You are not treating my child.” He scolded you.
“Yes, I am.” You gave him his tone back. “But if you will be ashamed of it then your son will be too and this is not going to work.”
“Go on.” He took a deep breath.
Gave no compasses, gave me no signs
You and Jack had spent the day playing in the snow, then coloring and finally, you requested his help to cook dinner in order to teach him to be independent. Truth is, you two were really getting along.
Dinner was ready when Mr. Hotchner arrived.
He called your name as soon as he opened the door, and the corner of his eyes wrinkled when he saw little Jack with an apron in the kitchen.
“Daddy, I made you dinner!” The little guy raised his hand holding a spoon, wearing a big smile.
“That is amazing, buddy. Then let’s have dinner.” Mr. Hotchner hugged Jack. “How was your day?” He turned his gaze to you, still holding Jack.
“It was great, maybe Jack should tell you what his favorite part was.” You asked him as you laid out the plates for dinner.
“The snowman!” He said with a big smile and you did as well.
“Thank you very much, that would be all for today.” Your boss gave you a handshake with the stern face he always has on. “Jack, say goodnight to your nanny.” He put the boy on the ground.
“Can’t she stay for dinner?” He asked his father. Mr. Hotchner raised his gaze at you in a questioning manner. You scrunched down to meet Jack’s eyes.
“No, sweetie. This is quality time you have to spend with your daddy, besides we only cook for two.”
“Are you also having dinner with your daddy?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion and you couldn’t help but laugh. With the corner of your eyes you saw Mr. Hotchner laughed as well.
“Yeah, I should, right? See you tomorrow little buddy.” You gave him a hug.
You walked to the couch to get your backpack and headed out of the house.
“Goodnight, Mr. Hotncher, Jack.” You gave them a smile before opening the door and walking out.
“Hotchner”
“Hey, Mr. Hotchner, sweetie get in the car–”
“what’s going on?”
“Sir, I can’t work from your apartment today” a car door closed in the back
“what’s wrong?”
“There’s a–god–I don’t–I think there’s something inside” You were trailing off, he could hear you starting a car.
He said your name trying to get you to focus.
“I won’t go in there, sir, we will be in my apartment, you can pick up Jack when–”
“Where are you? I’m sending an officer”
“That’s not necessary”
“Come to my office, now” that sounded like an order
“Sir, let me just” you took a deep breath, trying to calm down
“Stay on the line, I will locate your phone”
“Sir, there’s a rat!” You screamed. Jack’s laugh resonated through the line.
“A rat? This is because of a rat?” He was ridiculing you.
“Yes, I opened the door and saw a rat running through the living room. So I can’t go in there.”
“Daddy, she’s afraid of rats!” Jack screamed through the phone, laughing at you.
“Don’t you ever do this again” And he hung up.
“I think he is afraid too” You told little Jack as you drove home.
“Daddy! You’re early! Can my daddy make one too?” Jack jumped to hug his father the second he walked through the door, showing him the paste of play-doh he was holding.
“Yes, of course!” You answered, clearing another seat at the table for him. “Maybe, I should explain the activity again for your father to join in, would you like that Jack?”
“Yes, yes!”
Mr. Hotchner had no other choice but to drop his briefcase and blazer on the couch and join both of you at the table.
“Today’s activity, Mr. Hotchner is to think of one emotion we have been feeling a whole lot this week and try to represent it in the play-doh. Jack and I had already started so you gotta catch up. Once we finish our sculptures we will share them with the rest, okay?” You looked at him with an apologetic look and he nodded in response.
“I made two,” Jack started to explain. “One is sadness and the other one is happiness.” He pointed at each of the sculptures, one blue and one pink. “The blue is the sadness and the pink is happiness.”
“Why did you choose those colors, Jack?”
“Because blue is a sad color, I think. And also when my daddy is sad he plays music he calls blues.”
“And why have you been feeling sad, Jack?”
“I don’t want to say it in front of my daddy, he says I have to be strong.” The little boy covered his face with his hands, in shame. You turned to look at his father in concern and he was just as ashamed as his son.
“Sweetie, if you want you can tell me in secret but you can also share it with your father because above all people, you should trust him to know how you feel.” Your tone was soft and tender, your focus only on the blond child sitting in front of you. “Or you can talk about happiness while you think about how you want to share the sadness.” You finally see a smile form in the little guy’s face.
“Yes!” He yelled. “I am happy because you’re my new friend and we paint, and play a lot.”
“Oh, thank you sweetie, I am very happy to be your friend too. And why is happiness pink?”
“Because your backpack is pink! When I see it after school I know it’s going to be a fun day!” He was glowing, making your heart fill with joy. “You go!”
“Okay, I made surprise, because this whole week I have been surprised with you Jack, because you are so smart, funny and amazing!” Your little friend blushed but quickly turned to his father to hear what his emotion was.
“I did love, because that’s the feeling that floods me when I am with you, and this moment is the most important I’ve had in my week.”
“Not catching the bad guys?” Jack asked, excited.
His father moved his head from side to side with a smile, giving him an answer.
“Now, would you like to share why you have been feeling sad, buddy?”
“I miss my mommy” The little boy dropped his head to the table and you could swear your heart had been smashed. You looked at his father to handle it, but by the look of his face he wasn’t anywhere near to do so.
“Thank you very much for sharing this with us, Jack, is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” You ask. Jack said yes with his head and raised his arms in a hug. His father was quick to raise him in his arms in a tight hug. A tear rolled down your boss’ cheek when he mouthed ´thank you´ to you in complete silence.
“Thank you, that would be all for today” He dismissed you as he took off his jacket, but before you could turn away little Jack took his hand, guiding him a few steps from you.
“Daddy, I need to tell you a secwet ”
Mr. Hotchner gestured for you to wait while he talked to his son, he hunched down to reach his height and the 5 year old leaned to whisper in his father’s ear. Your boss’ face turned from amused to intrigued in seconds while the child eyed you up and down.
“Thank you for sayin that, buddy. Wanna watch some TV while I talk to her?” The little blond kid nodded and walked to the living room. Mr. Hotchner guided you to the kitchen to talk, but you already knew what this was about the second he leaned against the door frame, locking you inside. “Jack says you cried today” folding his arms on his chest.
“I can explain.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Well, uh, today when I went to pick Jack from school the teacher said his grandfather had already picked him up.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Even though his voice was lower, he was speaking louder to you, rougher. His shoulders seemed to grow wider and his height taller.
“Sir.” You warned him, “I decided to check first and panic later, which was not necessary because Jack was actually with his grandfather.” You gave him his scolding tone back and saw how his shoulders went back to its original size.
“You should have called me.” He stretched his neck sideways, trying to relieve stress.
“Well I didn’t” you crossed your arms and turned away from him, tears pricking your eyes again. You heard him sigh.
“And then what?”
“Well I drove to his house.” Your voice was shaking. “And he said a lot of things.”
Mr. Hotchner said your name in a slow whisper, giving you the courage to look back at him.
“He said horrible things, sir.” Tears were already scrolling down your face and any signs of anger on him disappeared. “It’s not even worth saying them again.”
He strode closed, “I’d like to know, please.” He raised his palms to your elbows but never actually touched you. He just stood there, in front of you, with his arms stretched to hug you but without the courage to do so.
“He said” you finally met his gaze, “that you… killed her?” A sob left your mouth at the sole repetition. “Is that…?” You couldn’t finish the question. He never had told you exactly what happened to Jack’s mom, he said she had been murdered while Jack was in the house, only that.
“No.” He turned away, “Of course I didn’t do it.” He kept moving his head sideways, almost obsessively, as if he was trying to convince himself as well. “It was a serial killer. He offered me a deal, not to go after him and he would not kill while I lived, but I declined it. I thought myself better, smarter, and I wasn’t responsible enough to take the necessary security measures.” He took a deep breath and you continued crying.
”is he in jail?”
”no.”
You gasped, “so he is still out there?”
“No.” One of his hand raised to massage his eyes in circular motions, “I killed him.”
Your entire body froze at the confession, alarms were flashing inside your head, warning you all the possible trauma that Jack might be suffering because of this. This was much more problematic that “his mother was murdered” as Mr. Hotchner said in your interview.
“Sir, that’s-“
“I know.” He returned to his initial position against the door. “What else did Jack’s grandfather say?”
“Well he insisted that I wasn’t a pedagogue, that I was with you” you turned down again, embarrassed, “so that I would be next.”
“Did Jack hear any of this?”
“No.”
“Good. The first part, he,” he took a deep breath, “believes it is my fault, he thinks my mistakes are what pulled the trigger.” He was looking away, avoiding eye contact. “For the second, I apologize.”
“Sir, don’t” now you wanted to comfort him, “why haven’t you put him to a stop?”
“Maybe because I think he is right.” He looked down and that was all you needed to round his chest with your arms, pulling him into a hug, his head falling to your shoulder.
“He is not” you repeated slowly while your fingers ran through his hair.
Were the clues I didn’t see?
Your boss had let you know he’d be coming home later than usual and requested you to stay home with Jack. Since this had turned out to be an usual request, you always had an extra change of clothes, pajamas and all the basic beauty products in your car.
So after you had dinner with Jack, left some for his father and got him to bed, you headed to the bathroom to get yourself ready to sleep.
You turned the tv on and chose a documentary in the Discovery Channel to lull yourself, after a few minutes you were fast asleep.
The keys didn’t wake you up, neither did the door opening nor the man walking in. Not even him turning off the tv. What woke you up was his judging stare or at least that’s what you woke up to.
“Jeez, Mr. Hotchner, you scared me. What time is it?” You said, sitting in one movement, with your eyes still sleepy.
“It’s 2:30 am. What if I was a murderer?” He asked, and maybe it’s because you were sleepy but you think he was teasing.
“I’m sorry, I was so tired, I couldn’t stay awake for long after putting Jack to bed.” You kept apologizing for… sleeping? At night? Like a human being?
“No need to apologize, go back to it. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“No, sir, I should get home.” You stood up fast to get out of his scrutinous eyes but you were still sleepy so you ended up stumbling on your boss’ chest. His hands secured you by your shoulders. Your eyes automatically raised to his and for a few seconds you allowed yourself to admire him. Gosh, he was so handsome. He raised an eyebrow and that was your cue to stop staring.
“Careful, you can’t drive like this.” You’d swear his voice had dropped an octave. “Sit for a few minutes”
“Yes, sir.” You sat back down, your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. He walked out of the living room.
“Do you always stay on the couch?” He asked from the kitchen. You didn’t have the courage to look back yet.
“Yes.”
“Even when I leave for several days?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t. Sleep in my bed next time, please.” You finally turned your head to see him, shook by what he had asked you.
“Sir, I don’t think that’s appropriate.” You quickly answered.
“Why not? There’s nobody else there. I don’t see why you would neglect a perfectly comfortable bed when nobody else is using it. I need you to rest so you can take care of my child.” His tone was scolding, he sounded like he was talking about something serious, not asking you to sleep on his bed.
“Understood.” You limited to answer and stood up from the couch without losing eye contact with your boss. Or at least enough to see him scan your whole body in seconds and you felt nothing but shame.
There he was, with his pristine suit, tailored head to toe while you wore pink booty short pajamas. You started to fold the covers on the couch to distract yourself from him. Although you couldn’t, you wish you had stayed seated to avoid him seeing you like this. He must think you're a simple, immature woman. He must be the type to like lingerie for pajamas, not the Walmart 2x1 100% cotton promos.
You were lost in your own thoughts of how must be the woman he likes, how well he must treat women, fantasizing of your boss like a man, for once, when his voice interrupted your train of thought.
“Aren’t you cold?”
“Mm?” You railed out.
“Aren’t you cold? It has been snowing lately.”
“No, not really. The heating system is enough. I'll change so I can go home for the night, excuse me.” And so you walked through the room to the bathroom.
“I’mma go home, Mr. Hotchner, have a good night.” He was still in the kitchen when you were leaving, you got your backpack without looking back and headed to the door.
“Good night”
You opened the door but he called your name before you could be out.
“Yeah?” You turned back to see him.
“Text when you’re home so I know you’re safe.”
“Sure, Mr. Hotchner, good night.”
“Is this yours?” Mr. Hotchner asked you, holding a hoodie in between his fingers. Jack was already asleep and you were gathering your stuff to leave for the day after one of your boss’ three day work trips.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” You quickly grabbed it, blushing. You had forgotten it in the bathroom after your morning shower.
“Did you go to Georgetown?” He pointed at the hoodie. Casual conversation wasn’t usual with him, so his question took you out of your concentration.
“Oh, no.” You scoffed, “I was a barista in Georgetown. Getting discounted coffee to the guys in the souvenir store got me some stuff.” He smiled. “You didn’t know? I thought the FBI knew even my high school hobbies.” You teased as you finished folding your clothes in your backpack at the end of the couch.
“Yeah, right, cheerleading and making out with the quarterback?” He teased back with a side smirk that melted your insides, walking to you. You laughed.
“What gave me up? The reading club or the academic scholarship?” You asked, giggling. He smiled, coming to sit next to your backpack, looking up to you.
“I never actually searched you in the FBI database.”
“What a hustle!” You fake mocked, “what if I was a murderer?” You repeated his question from days before. He smiled again.
“I would’ve known,” he nodded with a confident smirk.
“How?” You put your backpack on the floor and sat next to him.
“I’m very good at my job.” He scanned your face thoroughly, his smile nowhere to be found.
“Oh, really?” You asked, your gaze lost on his lips and how his tongue came out and licked them.
“Yeah” he swallowed, nervous.
“What am I thinking, then?” Your voice was merely a whisper, the tension in the air had gotten the best of you, the logical side of your brain nowhere to be found. His eyes had never been that dark, traveling between your own and your lips.
“That is very late,” he took a deep breath, “and I should” his eyes closed and you bit your lower lip in anticipation as he leaned closer to you when his phone rang. He jumped off his seat in a second.
“Hotchner.”
You stood up to grab your backpack and head for the door when he lifted a hand motioning you to hold.
“I’m on my way” He said, closing the flip phone. “I have to go back, do you mind staying? I can call a co-worker if you need to leave, he can stay with her husband.” He asked you, taking off his jacket.
“No, it’s ok.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a shower and go, please feel free to go to sleep.” And with that he disappeared in the bathroom.
“Hotch” his voice resonated through the line, manly and powerful. Made your mouth water, honestly.
“Hey, Mr. Hotchner, I’m sorry to bother you-“
“It’s not a bother,” he interrupted you, “you can call me anytime. Is everything ok?”
“It is, but Jack had a bit of a breakdown today and I think we should talk about it.”
“How is he now? Do you need me to be there?” He was concerned.
“No, no, he is good. I calmed him down and lulled him to a nap. I’ll text you recommendations on how to behave tonight according to how I see him when he wakes up.”
“Thank you. Let’s have brunch tomorrow while he is at school, 1 o'clock is ok?”
“Perfect.”
“He misses his mom, of course.” You started to explain once you both got your coffees and had exchanged the usual courtesies. He didn’t seem surprised at all by your discovery. “But he says some boy at school told him he can have a new mommy.” You repeated the exact words Jack had said the day before. Mr. Hotchner seemed to be confused.
“How?”
“His daddy needs to pick him a new mommy. And Jack is upset that his daddy hasn’t done it because he doesn’t have time.” You finished explaining but the gears in his head were still working.
“A step mother?” He finally asked with his usual eyebrow up.
“I think—yeah.” You took a sip of coffee to let the idea sink in.
“I… okay.” He finally said something. His whole face was a puzzle, he was evaluating the options. For once he had more questions than answers. “Should I… get him one?” It was absurd to even ask.
“Look, I definitely cannot tell you what to do, and your dating life is none of my business but as your son’s nanny I would strongly advise you not to introduce anybody to him until you’re very certain of the relationship.” You gather the courage to say.
“So I shouldn’t hurry to find someone?”
“No, Mr. Hotchner. Jack needs to know that he won’t have another mom, that he already has one. But he has to understand and grieve the death of his mother. As painful and horrendous as it is.” You saw his eyes fill with water at your words. He only nodded in response.
“He will be okay, he is a smart kid and has a loving father helping him in the way.” You gave him a smile and he mimicked one.
“I wish I was around more often.” He took a sip of coffee. “You’re real wise for your age, uh” He sounded amused and scolded at the same time.
“I’m not as young as I’d like to, though”
“Do you mind me asking?”
“Not at all, I’ll be 32 this year, I’m getting old.”
“Oh, I wish I was 32 again. So young, full of hope.” He was glowing, a half smile formed on his lips.
“Well, if I’mma age like you, I shouldn’t be worried.” Oh, shit, you said it. A blush creeped your face the moment you realized and apparently his too. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotch—.”
“Please don’t be.” He cut you off. “Flattery isn’t common in my line of business, I appreciate it.”
“Well, in mine is overly common.” You exaggerated the phrase to lessen the tension.
“Oh, really?” He leaned both of his elbows on the table, amused, “how so?”
“You do know I do therapies in a clinic, right?” He nodded in response. “Well, there was this one time, I was treating a 10 year old girl for sexual harassment, one day, her father comes to pick her up from the therapy and, in front of her, he just straight out asked me if I was interested in a threesome with his wife!” You blushed at the memory and he laughed. He actually laughed.
“What did you do?”
“Well I explained to him why his behavior was inappropriate, even more in front of his daughter, and transferred the girl to another therapist. A forty something year old partner, so even if they dare to propose to her, I doubt she’ll have the libido for it.”
“Hey, be careful there.” He actually commanded you and damn it was hot. His phone rang once. You showed him your hands in surrender.
“Hotchner.” You looked at your watch, you had to pick up Jack in 20 minutes. “I’m on my way.” And he closed his phone. “I’m sorry I have to go.”
“It’s ok, so do I.”
After paying the bill, he walked you to your car like the gentleman he is. He even opened your door once you turned off the alarm.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hotchner.” You said to him from inside your car.
“Nothing to thank me for, and please call me Aaron.” He stated before closing the door and sending you a wink.
Isn’t it just so pretty to think
It was a Saturday night, you were getting drinks with your friends when you got a phone call, you answered to your full name being called on the line.
“Hello, sir.” You said with a smile.
“Is that the hot guy?” Your friend asked next to you. You shushed her.
“It’s my employer.”
“Good to know” you heard him chuckle through the words.
“I’m sorry, I have very nosy friends, Mr. Hotchner. How can I help you? Is everything alright?”
“Yes, I’m sorry to interrupt but I have an emergency call and I need you to come stay the night. If you’re busy or… intoxicated, I can call someone else.”
“No, there’s no need. I’m the designated driver. I can be there in 30 minutes, is that ok?”
Your friends booed you until you agreed to pay for the next two rounds.
When you arrived it was nearly 3 am and he was already in his usual perfect suit.
“Nice outfit” he said the minute you got inside, eyeing up and down your mini black dress and heels.
“Thanks. Likewise.” You made a mock reverence with a smirk, earning a soft smile on his lips.
“Do you have a change of clothes?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I always carry some essentials,” you pointed at your backpack, “just in case.”
“Well if there’s anything you can use from either mine or Jack’s closet, please take it.” He said as he walked to the door.
“Thanks, sir. If I’m ever in need of a Gucci tie and a spiderman shirt I won’t hesitate.” Your tease didn’t go unnoticed since the edges of his lips curved upwards.
“It was a gift” he quickly justified, smiling.
“Of course” you kept your smug face.
“From a friend.” He was clearly amused by the exchange.
“I need one of those.” You closed your arms on your chest.
“I can introduce him to you.”
“Is he single?”
“Not to you.”
You gasped in mock surprise, “what does that mean?”
“Sweet dreams.” And with a smile he closed the door.
You and Jack were having dinner in your pajamas, you’ve made Mac and Cheese, Jack’s favorite. It was your last night special before his father came back from a trip and would have to go back to regular, healthy dinners.
“Oh, sweetie you’re so sleepy already!” He hadn’t finished his food and he was already falling asleep on the table.
“Can I have some juice?” He asked you, blinking.
“Of course sweetie.” You stood up to grab the bottle of juice from the counter but you didn’t realize Jack was running just behind you, so when you turned back to fill his glass, he crashed against you, throwing juice all over your pajamas.
“I’m sorry!” He screamed.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’ll get cleaned up in a minute.”
You sent him to bed after he drank his juice, cleaned the kitchen and headed to the master bedroom to take a shower.
Every time you showered in your boss’ bathroom you took your time to satisfy your curiosity smelling his body wash, lotion, shampoo, everything. And this time wasn’t the exception.
Since this was the last night of his trip you had no clean clothes left. So you searched through his drawers for something that could be used as pajamas.
You found an old FBI t-shirt that fitted almost like a dress, in the morning you’d put it in the washing machine as well as the sheets you’d been sleeping in. You’d only washed them on your way out, so you could smell a bit of him every night when you went to bed. Sick? Yeah, you had made your peace with it. That night you slept better than ever, the smell of his clothes relaxed you way past any expectations.
In the morning you got up at 6:30 as usual, to get Jack’s breakfast ready, so you walked to the bathroom to wash your face. When you walked back to the room still half asleep, a voice took your out of your thoughts.
“Nice shirt”
You raised your head to find your boss dropped on the still unmade bed, with half lidded eyes, scanning you, taking extra time on your exposed legs and his t-shirt.
“Good Morning, Mr. Hotchner, last night Jack spilled juice all over my pajamas and I had to borrow—“ He stood up from the bed. “I was gonna wash it along with the sheets—“ He started walking towards you, you were begging your legs to run back to bathroom but your body was numb. “I swear this won’t ever happen again nor it has happened before—“ you were stuttering, covering your mouth in shame. He finally reached you, cornering you to the wall.
“Aaron.” He finally said. “Call me Aaron.”
His eyes were filled with determination and lust, his hands landed on the wall behind you, just two inches separating your bodies. He was towering, looking down on you like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen.
You scanned him as well, your insides were starting to liquify at his smell. He was still in his suit pants and shirt, he had lost the blazer and tie, the first three buttons were undone, giving him a domestic look and your mouth watered at the sight.
“Understood?” He kept you trapped.
“Understood.” You said with a knot on your throat. You swallowed, your breathing was strong and agitated, maybe he could even hear your heartbeat.
He tilted his head down to you, his eyes closed like he was focused. Although his expression was of a man in pain. When he was just a few centimeters from you, he took a deep breath and pushed himself away.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. That was inappropriate, please forgive me.” He walked out of the room before he could finish talking.
Once you gathered enough courage, you walked out straight to the washing machine to put the sheets and tshirt.
“Good morning, boss.” You limited to say when you saw him cooking breakfast with the corner of your eyes.
“Don’t boss me, I think of me as an employer rather than a boss, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone was as serious as always. Back to normal.
“What’s the difference?”
“First off, I don’t pay your taxes. And second, I am not a real authority to you.” He was measuring your body language with the corner of his eyes.
“I think you’re authority enough.” You set the machine and turned your body fully to him to show authority as well.
“I wash them every sunday” He said while cutting ham and cheese.
“I don’t wash them because I think they are dirty.”
“Then why?” He was honestly confused.
“Because I don’t think you should sleep in sheets that somebody else has slept on.”
“Do you wash them when you arrive?” He asked.
“No.”
“Why? Somebody has slept on them.” He kept preparing an omelet.
“Because I don’t care”
“Neither do I”
“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to sleep in the same sheets as your kid’s nanny.” You used the m tone you use to explain things to children.
“But is it appropriate for my nanny to sleep on my sheets?” Well you weren’t ready for that knock out.
“You’re right, sir. I will bring my own from tomorrow on.”
“I didn’t mean that.” he quickly tried to fix it. “You can use mine, I don’t mind. I just don’t want to be doubling the work.” He tilted his head, explaining.
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring my own and leave your bed ready for you when you get back.” You didn’t even turn to look at him.
“Hey, about this morning, I’m sorry. I was out of the line, I don’t want to make excuses but I am really tired, and—“ this time you interrupted him.
“Don’t worry, sir.—“
“Aaron” he corrected you.
“I understand. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” You sent a subtle tease.
A devilish grin played on his face.
“How do you want your omelet?” He asked, blushed.
“Don’t bother, I’ll have breakfast at home.” You grabbed your backpack and left.
It was around 10:00 pm, you were working on some other kids files when the door opened. Your legs were extended on the couch, your back leaning on the armrest and you were wearing glasses. This was not a position where you wanted to be found by your boss, even less now. In the last few days you have been avoiding him as much as possible, despite whatever your feelings were, you knew he was vulnerable and probably misinterpreting your presence.
At the end, he was still a parent for a kid you were treating and any complaint of him could take out of business really fast.
“Hello, Mr. Hotchner.”
“Hey” He left his briefcase on the couch and headed to his son’s bedroom, as always. From the hallway he called you “Please wait, I need a word.” After he gave Jack his goodnight kiss, he came back to the couch and sat on the other end.
“How is he doing?” He took off his jacket, threw it away and started to loosen his tie. What a sight for sore eyes.
“Better, I believe. He talks about his feelings way more, that’s good.”
“Jessica comes back next week.” He completely took off his tie and now was unbuttoning the neck of his shirt.
“About that, would you like me to still treat Jack after that?”
He raised his shoulders in answer, unbuttoning the cuffs.
“Do you think he needs to?” He asked you while he folded up the cuffs.
“It’s your son, Mr. Hotchner. This is a choice you should take, with him, of course.”
He let himself relax on the couch, dropping his body completely.
“I have no idea.” He breathed out. He was exhausted. “How do you see him?”
“I think his trauma is far from healing, he is barely getting close to it, but he is starting to talk about it.” A light snore came from Jack’s bedroom interrupting you.
“Come closer” Your boss gestured with a hand to the space between you. You scrunch your legs to a butterfly position, causing you to be seated next to him. “Go on.” He rested his head on the pillow, closed his eyes and fully extended his legs from the couch to the rug beneath it. Knowing he wasn’t looking, you took your chance to stare at his face, how different he looked relaxed in opposition to what he usually looks. Just as handsome.
“I don’t want this to sound like I want to keep him forever, although I would like to” a smile escaped the corner of his lips, “but I think it’s important that he talks to a professional. It can be me, or it can be a therapist, whoever you want, but please, please, don’t let this golden heart child become a traumatized, hurt, misunderstood adult.” Your tone reflected all the love and care you felt for this kid, and he realized. He turned his head to you with eyes opened. Took your hand and led it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
“You’re an angel.”
“Hello?” You answered the phone to hear your full name on the other line in the voice of your employer. “Hey, Mr. Hotchner.” He was on a work trip and would be returning this afternoon, or at least that’s what he said yesterday.
“Are you still going to the wedding?” He asked. Earlier this week you explained to him you had a very important wedding to attend and kindly asked him to be home Friday night so you’d be able to go, request that he only answered by questioning if the said wedding was your own otherwise he could not promise anything.
“Umm, I guess that’s really up to you, sir.” You heard him clear his throat through the line.
“Do you have a date?” You panicked, absolutely panicked. Your cheeks flushed and were thankful to be over the phone and not face to face. He said your name in a questioning manner to get an answer.
“Uh, no, I mean—“ you swallowed, “I do have an extra ticket but no, no date.”
“I think I can fix that, if you let me” he was teasing. Your whole body was melting over this man’s voice and Jack’s eyes looked at you with concern. “There’s someone who I think would like to go with you, if that’s okay with you…”
“But, um, who’s gonna—“ take care of Jack? You wanted to say, but your mouth was dry and your throat was closed.
“He’s a nice looking fella, I’d say, for his age.” You could practically hear his smile. ‘You don’t have to compensate yourself, you are a work of art!’ Your mind was shouting while your heart pounded inside your chest in anticipation. “So, what do you say?”
“I would love to” you managed to say.
“Thank you.” He sighed. “Due to bad weather that’s the only way I think you’ll make it to the wedding, we are flying in the morning. I think there’s a tuxedo somewhere in his closet—“ He kept baffling and you were having trouble understanding.
“Jack?” You asked, looking over your little friend. And it all made sense now.
“Yes” You could hear a small laugh, “who else would it be?”
“Of course, I’ll get this guy handsome and ready. Thank you, sir.” You tried to brush off the disappointment, but also your expectations.
“It’s Aaron.”
“Have a safe flight.” And you closed your phone feeling like an idiot.
That all along there was some invisible string
“Daddy, can I have a girlfriend?” Jack asked as you and him finished making dinner. The early arrival of your boss that night had taken you by surprise and had no other option but to ask him to ‘help’ but he only leaned against the counter, rolling up his sleeves while you two cooked.
“Mmm” Aaron looked at the kid analyzing him, “why do you want to have a girlfriend?”
Jack shrugged.
“He asked me that earlier today and I said that was something he should ask his father.” You explained.
“I think you should have a girlfriend whenever you meet a girl who you want her to be your girlfriend. Or a boy, doesn’t matter.”
Jack seemed to think about his father’s answer for a minute, then he looked up to you.
“I want you to be my girlfriend!” He smiled and you could not help but laugh. You lifted him, sitting him on the counter next to his dad.
“I can’t be your girlfriend, I’m too old for you.”
“Buddy, rule number one, you gotta ask her if she already has a boyfriend.” Aaron leaned to say near Jack’s ear, smiling at you.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jack asked you.
“Or girlfriend.” His father instructed.
“Or girlfriend?”
You laughed, “no.”
“Then you can be my daddy’s girlfriend!” His smile grew wider while his father blushed.
“Jack” He tried to stop him, laughing.
“He thinks you’re pretty.”
“You little traitor!” He lifted the kid and threw him on his shoulder, Jack’s laugh filled the house as his father faked-wrestled him, taking him to the couch. A few minutes later, Aaron returned, flushed and with a thin layer of sweat on his face, “these kids uh? Say the craziest of things.”
You bit your lower lip to hide your smile.
The final day came.
You said your goodbyes to Jack after a whole month of being his best friend. He cried, of course, so did you. You promised to visit his aunt Jessica once a week to play together, you promised him to be friends forever. You hugged him till he fell asleep in your arms, while his dad observed in silence.
You left him on his bed, kissed his forehead and walked out holding your own tears.
“Thank you” He said while he walked you to your car.
“Anytime, and really, if you ever need any help with that little guy, please call me. I adore him.”
“I know. And it’s mutual, I see.” He smiled.
“Yeah, I guess we were kinda meant to meet.” You joked. “Did you think about whether or not I will keep on treating him?” You asked, leaning on your car’s capo to make some time. He took a deep breath, so you knew it was bad news. You were already nodding before he said a thing.
“I think therapy would be better, he just loves you too much.”
“No, I agree.” You looked down to hide your disappointment. “Well, thank you, Mr. Hotchner–”
“Wait.” He turned the alarm of his car off, opened the passenger door and took out a gift bag that then handed to you. “I got you something, for, well, all the help.”
“Oh” you smiled, “you really didn’t have to buy me anything.” You grabbed it shyly.
“Actually, I didn’t” A half smile adorned his face.
You opened the bag to find the FBI shirt you had worn as pajamas that one time. A full smile formed on your lips.
“Thank you, I love it.” When you raised your sight to him, he was beaming.
“Looks better on you, anyway.” You blushed at the comment.
“Thank you.”
He opened the door of your car and you walked towards it.
“If you’re not treating my kid anymore, can I ask you out sometime?” He asked while still holding the door for you. You blushed and smiled at the question.
“Sir, I–”
“Aaron.” He corrected you yet again.
“Would love to, Aaron .” You said his name, like an experiment on your mouth.
“Will you add me to your list of perverts?” He teased.
“That is completely up to you” You teased back.
“I take the challenge.”
You got inside the car and he closed the door sending you a cheeky wink.
Tying you to me