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Drums. That’s what it reminded you of. Your foot tapping rapidly against the desk as the clock ticked slowly on the wall. It was like a morbid drumbeat coming at you.
Interrogation rooms should have music.
There was sweat too, lots of it. Innocent sweat, you hadn’t done a damn thing, especially nothing that would warrant the police kicking your door down at three in the morning, but here you were. Sweating in an interrogation room with no music.
“Stars shining bright a-above y-you.” You couldn’t get the words out; your breathing was laboured. You were innocent, but they didn’t seem to know that. You couldn’t even make your own music.
You didn’t know what you were being held for, you had been handcuffed in the room for so long that your entire body was freezing, they had grabbed you when you were sleeping so you had nothing on but a long tee and some panties.
When they first dragged you out of bed you had been scared but ready to fight. When you got to the police station you had been angry, but over the hours you had deflated, you guessed that's what the police wanted. You just didn’t know why.
“Se-seem to whisper I l-love you.” What was the next line? You couldn’t remember. Maybe one of the policemen knew.
*
“What do we have here?”
“This is our unsub.” The policeman looked so proud of himself that Hotch wanted to laugh.
He didn’t, but he could have at their sheer stupidity.
“That.” He pointed through the glass to where you couldn’t see him. “That right there is the person you picked up. The person you are accusing of murdering four men, all at least three times her size?” The team came in to join him, all looking through the glass to see you, Morgan huffed a laugh as Rossi moved closer.
“Is she singing?”
“It’s a response to extreme nerves, she looks like she’s trying to ground herself.”
“Reid she’s singing the same two lines over and over.”
“Well, how would your memory be if you were handcuffed in an interrogation room in your underwear?”
At the mention of underwear Hotch reached his limit and flew into the interrogation room, his jacket was off before you could even look up.
“Ma’am my name is Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI, please take this to cover your legs, I apologise for your wait.”
He only got a quick look, but he wasn’t sure if he could focus with your bare legs out like that, they looked too good.
*
Gorgeous. Warm. Smells good. Not the point. Focus Y/N.
“ Sir please, I- I don’t know what’s happening, I’m-”
He held his hand up to stop your onslaught.
“Ma’am please, if you can answer one question for me, I can have you out of here in almost no time.”
You nodded.
“Where were you on Thursday night?”
Your brain short circuited and you had to think for a second. Not too long as you didn’t want it to look like you were making things up.
This was a little easier than song lyrics thankfully.
“Thurs- Thursday? It’s my- my, I’m sorry, hold on.” You tried to cough into your elbow but as you were still handcuffed it wound up on the floor. You felt a little dehydrated after all the crying you’d done in the last few hours. You hoped you still looked nice for this FBI agent.
Before you could resume talking an older gentleman came in carrying a glass of water and a handcuff key. He unlocked you and placed the water in your shaking hand, helping you drink and then leaving the room.
“Thanks Dave. Thursday night? Ma’am?”
“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”
“Y/N.”
You loved the way it sounded almost as much as he loved the way it tasted.
“Thursday night, there's a bar round the corner from my house, it has a pub quiz on a Thursday, I had dinner and drinks there and even got a cab home, it would all be on my card, I have friends that can testify to that and there’s also photos on my phone after we won.” You paused. “I'm really very smart you know.”
Agent Hotchner huffed a laugh and motioned towards the giant mirror behind him. A blonde woman came in a few minutes later.
“Garcia says it all checks out; this isn’t our unsub.”
“Alright JJ thanks. Can you take her and get her situated in an interview room for me, with some clothes too please?”
“Sure.”
He turned back to you, your anxiety riddled brain was having trouble keeping up. “I'm sorry, what’s happening?”
“No miss, I’m sorry, you were brought in falsely and if you’ll go with Agent Jareu then she’ll get you settled so I can explain to you what can happen from here on out.”
You wanted to ask your questions then and there, but Agent Hotchner had stormed out of the room.
You turned to Agent “JJ” and raised your brows.
“Well let's just say that I wouldn’t want to be the police department right now.”
*
He stormed through the station, looking directly for the sheriff. If he met anyone else, he may put their head through a wall.
“Who was the arresting officer?”
The sheriff looked dizzy but stood to meet him at the door.
“I’m sorry agent?”
“The girl in the interview room, which idiot brought her in?”
The sheriff looked wary to turn over one of his men to this, clearly homicidal, FBI agent but he led him to the middle of the station to where a group of men were standing drinking coffee.
JJ and Rossi came up behind him with the rest of the team not far behind.
Sheriff turned to Hotch: “I’ve heard it was a group effort sir.”
Hotch breathed in through his nose. It didn’t stop him from yelling.
“You lot arrested that girl?”
They grinned, expecting praise. “We sure did! Broke down her door like a S.W.A.T. team!” The high fives were what really send the BAU agent over the edge.
“With WHAT?! What evidence did you have?! She has a strong alibi?! Did you even ASK?! Did you even get her NAME before throwing her in an interrogation room?!”
This took the wind from their sails. “You told us to look at people that-”
“To ask questions! To find witnesses! Not to arrest poor girls in the middle of the night and keep them chained up for hours in their underwear!”
“We thought-”
“I don’t care! For now, on you don’t do anything without my team’s say so! You don’t think without asking my agents for help first!”
The sheriff tried to jump in. “Now Agent Hotchner...”
Luckily Morgan responded before Hotch could tear the man’s head off.
“You don’t understand what’s gonna happen now do you? Your colleagues basically just terrorised a completely innocent woman with no evidence or plausible cause. They didn’t even read her charges, even if she had been guilty-”
The sheriff shrugged. “So what? I’ll send Jack and the boys in there to apologise, and you send her on her way. She isn’t guilty so what does it matter?”
Rossi laughed. “Look around you sheriff, you can’t swing a cat in this department, it’s one of the smallest I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been doing this for a very long time.”
This successfully brought the sheriff up to Hotch’s anger level, the other policemen still standing like scolded children. “ And?”
An equally angry Hotch responded. “So, what do you think will happen to your shoebox if she decides to sue?”
*
Sitting in a comfy interview chair with a pair of FBI sweatpants on, you felt more comfortable to finally let your indignation wash over you in waves. You paced the room a few times and finally worked up the nerve to leave, what met you at the door was dinner and a show.
Agent Hotchner was screaming at the police, he was red in the face, commanding, angry and once you tuned into the words, you realised it was all on your behalf.
It was incredibly sexy; you loved a protective man, and this man was walking sex in a suit and tie.
You watched him hurl various insults at the angry policemen and then look towards you. You felt like a child caught watching your parents fight so you went back into your little interview room and waited to be seen.
It didn’t take long.
*
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He sat down across from you.
“Don’t worry about it agent . I don’t mind seeing you like that.” His head thumped when you called him agent and he had a brief image of you calling out his first name that he stomped down quickly and professionally.
“May I ask you some questions? You are of course free to leave but I thought you might want to know what was happening first.”
“Uh huh.” You looked at the thick stack of files in his hand. “So, you want to cover your ass is that it?”
He laughed and you drank it in. “I- yes, that’s exactly what it is, we’re legally obligated to do this.”
You pouted. “So, you didn’t just want to spend more time with me?”
He glanced up, taking in your playful demeanour and pretty smile. He recognised the signs of flirting but for once he didn’t want to shy away.
“Well, I could have let one of the other agents handle it but...”
You grinned at his reciprocation. He looked like a man who knew how to play. "So, what was I arrested for sir ?”
Before he could answer a young policeman came in and interrupted.
“Agent-”
“I’m busy.”
“But sir-”
“If there is a pressing issue, I’m sure agent Rossi will be more than happy to draw an answer out in crayon.” He turned his back on the door and his face changed when he was looking at you once again.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don’t be. That was hot.”
He sighed out a laugh. “Well, it’s good to see you’re feeling better.”
“These FBI sweats give a girl confidence; I like the blue.”
“It looks good on you.” You blushed a little and for a second, he forgot why he was there.
He tried to straighten up and get serious, but he couldn’t stop imagining your legs wrapped around his head. “Now, as you know, due to your situation, you are of course well within your rights to sue the police department, I’ve written down a list of things for you to take to a lawyer.”
“Clever boy.”
“Well, I used to be a prosecutor.”
“Sexy boy.” You wanted to make him nervous, but it had no effect. He just looked at you until it was you that was blushing again instead. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Now as the FBI have been called in to assist, you are also within your rights to sue us too.”
“No thanks.”
He stopped short. “But you can-”
“I don’t want to.”
“You were treated badly.”
“Not by you.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing-”
“Can I keep the sweats?”
“Well- yes, if you’d like.”
“Can you get me a shirt to match?”
“Yes, I could.”
“Excellent, matter sorted.”
You stood up and made to leave, knowing fine well he was following you out the door. You hadn’t seen your ass in the sweatpants yet, but they were tight enough that you knew there must be something working for you.
The matching tightness in his pants agreed with you.
“Is there anything else I can do for you agent Hotchner?”
He detailed the case they were working, why you were arrested and on what charges. The more he spoke the more ludicrous your arrest became.
You just wanted to get home to bed, and possibly bring agent Hotchner along with you.
“There is a form, I’d like you to sign, stating that you have no intentions of suing the FBI or any members of my team.” You signed it without reading it. You couldn’t explain why, but you already trusted this man.
“That all?” You were waiting, he looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but nerve lost him.
You didn’t want the conversation to end there so you tried to lighten the mood.
“You want to knock out one of the officers for me?”
He shook his head with a smile.
“How about a date then?”
Big Bad Agent Aaron Hotchner stuttered for a full minute before handing over his business card. You smiled and walked away.
He waited until you reached the door before shouting to you, loud enough for every policeman in the area to hear.
“You’re still gonna sue the police station though?”
“Oh yeah!”