Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: PG (at the moment at least)
Summary: Aaron Hotchner is the chief of the BAU, and he takes his job incredibly seriously. But things get personal when a serial killer in New Orleans forces him to cross paths with Dr. Spencer Reid, professor of criminology.
Aaron Hotchner knew two things the moment he laid eyes on Spencer Ried; first there was no way that man had killed 7 people, second was that in the most basic way he wanted the younger man. As usual he was able to push his baser instincts down to focus oh glaring at a recalcitrant Penelope who was supporting the sobbing blonde woman. He massaged his temple before following the three others into the processing room.
Penelope was settling the other woman in a chair when she finally said, “Sir...I can explain...”
“There isn't much to explain Penelope, you knew you knew a suspect and you insisted on coming anyway.” He paused to glare at her a bit more intensely for a moment as she fidgeted, “You could have at least told me, I'd have let you come anyway. You know that.”
Penelope sighed, “I'm sorry sir. Really I just-”
“Not now. Save it for later.” He held up a hand and raised an eyebrow, the silent 'not while we have possible suspects in the room' rang between them unsaid.
The tall man cleared his throat, “I'd like to get this over with? Please? It's just I've always y'know watched this happening to others so it happening to me is odd.”
The woman in the chair gave another choked sob that sounded oddly like “God, Spencer who cares at this point?!”
Penelope smiled wanly at Aaron, “I'll take JJ. Finger Prints and mouth swab right?”
Hotch nodded silently as he turned to the younger man who's hands were casually stuffed into his pockets, he felt himself sigh. “So I take it you'd rather do the mouth swab first then?”
Almost immediately the younger man's hands were held in front of him, palms up. Hotch tried not to notice the way his eyes dilated just a bit, or the way his prominent adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously. Hotch was reasonably sure he didn't necessarily need to take the extra precaution of grasping the man's hand and guiding it from the ink to the paper or to gently press the pad of his fingers to the designated squares over and over and over, but he told himself it was purely professional. He'd hate for somehow the fingerprints to......not come out right and have then man get in trouble for it. Later he'd tell himself that cleaning the blushing man's fingers himself with the baby wipe had been a form of apology; of course Hotch had gotten very good at lying to himself.
He was fairly sure however that they were both fully aware of the fact that Aaron had spent far more time than necessary swabbing the inside of the taller man's cheek, but really he was far too pretty sitting there with his mouth open to not take his time on the job. Finally though he pulled back and again he spared a brief thought on how no man swallowing should be that sexual.
From then on out however he had to pull himself back to Agent mode and try to stop looking at the man like he'd want to, as Morgan had so lovingly phrased it earlier, “eat” him. He sighed as he turned from the man to gather the blonde womans, Ms. Jareau's, prints and sample from Penelope to take them to a tech. With curt instructions to made the results first priority, he was on his way back to the holding room.
He gestured for Penelope to join him in the hall for a moment, and he caught a glimpse of the tall man staring at the clearly distraught woman with a set jaw. Penelope shut the door behind her carefully, looking at him nervously from under her eyelashes in a way that Hotch had always found endearing. She knew this and was obviously using it to her advantage, the sneaky bitch.
“Sir, I really am sorry. I just knew that if it was my JJ she'd need me and I couldn't not risk it you know? I should have trusted you.”
Of course staying mad at Penelope was fairly impossible, so Hotch sighed again and realized that very soon he'd need pain killers again. “What's done is done, will you tell me at least how you know her now?”
Garcia sighed, “Well it's.....it's sort of silly.” Hotch crossed his arms and sent her a stare, she bit her lip before shaking her head. “Okay, so you know in high school how you used to have sort of pen pals?” Hotch blinked at her and nodded, Penelope sighed again. “Well JJ was mine. Except we ended up trading phone numbers and email addresses, and in college we met up a few times. She told me she'd moved to New Orleans to manage a Jazz singer she'd met and I thought she was crazy. But Hotch, she couldn't kill anyone. I promise. I don't know about this Spencer Reid character yet, but JJ? She couldn't.”
Hotch shook his head, “We'll know soon. Thankfully this killer is reckless enough to leave behind fingerprints and DNA.”
“Do I want to know how he left the DNA?” Her voice was soft.
Hotch paused for a moment, “You'll find out soon enough, we'll need you to run down a few leads shortly, but if you want to be able to look your friend in the face when you go back into that room I shouldn't tell you.”
She swallowed loudly, “Okay.”
Hotch sighed, “Come on, you can sit with us while I question them. But don't interrupt, I understand your faith that she didn't do it. But you still have to treat her as a suspect until those results come back. Can you do that? Or at least allow me to do so until we get them?”
She nodded and followed him back into the room, the man had moved to wrap an arm around the woman. And as he met Hotch's gaze he said in a clear voice, “I know it's against procedure to question us together, but please....She's been through enough.”
“I'm aware of what she's been through. I'll still need to ask you both a few questions though.” Hotch gestured at the table in the center of the room that he'd used to take the man's fingerprints. “Could the two of you come sit here? Just so I can take some notes?”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Penelope move to her friend's side and help the woman to her feet and lead her over to the table. Spencer Reid stood and stared at Hotch for a moment before giving him a tight smile, “Thank you. Really. I know you don't have to be this kind to us.”
Hotch nodded slightly hoping his gut was right about these two being innocent.
Spencer sighed as he settled himself in the chair next to JJ and her friend and across from the man who'd taken his fingerprints and DNA, somehow turning that into an almost obscene sexual act, not that Spencer minded overly much.
The beginning questions were terribly routine, “Where were you on Saturday at 6?” and “Were you and any of the other victims connected?” And Spencer sighed knowing that the questions probably wouldn't be getting anymore interesting.
Sure enough it wasn't long before was nodding and standing, “I'm afraid we'll need to keep you in custody until you're cleared.”
“Are we going to be moved to a holding cell then?” Spencer knew he probably sounded sarcastic but he was tired, and sad, and the thought of spending time in a holding cell with who-knows-who-else for at least a day wasn't pleasant.
The man, who had studiously not met Spencer's gaze finally did; he looked vaguely appalled. JJ gave a vague wimper from somewhere beside him and the woman (who Spencer had gathered was named Penelope) stood slightly, “Sir, um, could I um....keep an eye on JJ? I just...really don't think she'd do well in a holding cell right now and....”
The man pinched the bridge of his nose, “No one is going into the holding cells, although you're right they should be assigned to an agent.” He blinked for a moment, “You take Ms. Jareau and I suppose Mr. Reid is with me for the time being.”
“He's a doctor you know. So if you're going to be ridiculously formal you should call him Doctor Reid, or Professor Reid.” Spencer turned to blink at his blonde friend, but she just waved him off, “And my mother was Ms. Jareau. Call me JJ. Please.”
“Alright JJ, I'll let Garcia get set up while Doctor Reid and I go and work on the profile.” The man made an exagerated motion for Spencer to follow him, and Spencer sighed as he pushed back from the table to follow the man.
Hotch really needed more Tylenol. If Haley had been there she'd have tutted about his liver and told him that his high stress 'lifestyle' was to blame, but there was a reason they'd gotten a divorce not long after their son was born.
But really that was besides the point; the point was gazing at a map thoughtfully and biting an all too tempting lip. The point was Dr. Spencer Reid. Who was technically a suspect, but rapidly becoming a consultant.
He was also rapidly making Hotch wish for things he had no business wanting.
“Oh my gosh.”
The hushed exclaimation took Aaron by surprise but the yougner man was suddenly standing and pointing at the map; “That's it!”
Aaron blinked, “What's it?”
“The connection!” Spencer turned to him with a grin, “It's The Raven!”
Hotch blinked, “The Raven?”
“The Raven is an extremely posh Jazz Club in the French Quarter, and all of the victims have performed there in the past two months.” Spencer's grin turned smug, “That's what the connection is. It's a highly exclusive place to play, that's how he's choosing his victims.”
Aaron blinked, before allowing himself to smile. “Dr. Reid, you are definitely on the team.”