For an anon who requested 20 and 30 with Hotch? Hit me. I’m serious, hit me.” “Don’t you dare say you love me!”
Angst Angst Angst! I’m sorry ❤️
You could feel angry tears threatening to break the seal that kept them all at bay and you bit your lip, feeling your hands shaking as they clenched into firsts. You barely muttered your excusal before turning and beelining out of the temporary conference room your team was using in from middle of some nowhere Idaho town.
You rushed down the hallway and to the ladies room ducking in quickly and throwing yourself into the first stall locking the door. You let the tears fall then, feeling angry and frustrated, and completely embarrassed. The bathroom door opened and two black men’s shoes appeared in front of your stall making you bite back an angry sob.
“(Y/N) Come out here.” Aaron’s deep grumble came from the other side, less the two feet away.
“This is the ladies room, SSI Hotchner, I can have you reported for luid workplace behavior.” You snapped, running an angry hand through your hair, and when you heard him snort with laughter you almost lunged.
“Angel, you are not going to report me, come out of the stall and tell me what’s wrong.” You couldn’t even stop yourself, you swung the stall door open so fast and took two steps towards him, pointing a finger in his face.
“Shut up with that angel shit!” You yelled, not even caring anymore who heard you though the thin walls, “Get away from me Aaron Hotchner before I-I.” You stopped, choking on your tears and words.
“Hit me?” He offered face darkening, “Go on then. Hit me.” You just stood there, staring at him, shaking your head.
“You’re not helping!” You cried.
“No, “Hit me. I’m serious, hit me.” He demanded, moving towards you, but you didn’t back down. “Will that make you feel better?”
“NO! What would make me feel better is if you weren’t in there treating me like utter shit in front of the entire team!” You snapped, “Yes! We had a fight at home, home, Aaron, so talk to me like I’m an idiot on our own time, not in front of my friends and my colleagues.”
“I was not treating you like idiot, nor was I treating you like shit, you made a mistake. I am your boyfriend, but I am your boss. You still get punished.” Aaron, tried to grab your hands, but you pulled away.
“No no, I get I fucked up and I’m okay with that. Dave is my supervisor now, not you. He deals with me, you mind your business.”
“My team is my business.” He snapped.
“Bringing it up every three seconds isn’t helping anyone!” You were crying again, and Aaron’s eyes softened slightly as he tried to move close to you again.
“Don’t. Don’t call me love.”
“But I love you, you just need to-”
“Don’t you dare say you love me!” You cut him off. “I don’t need to do anything. You’re the one always going on about making sure home and work stay separate. We need to do our jobs. Well do yours and leave me be.” Aaron huffed and backed away, turning to look in the grimy bathroom mirror. You watched him fix his tie and pat his hair down, trying to look like you hadn’t been having a row loud enough for the entire station to hear.
“I want you back in the conference room in five, no if ands or buts. We will talk later at home.” He murmured and you nodded your head, shoulders dropping.
“Okay.” You whispered, and without looking at you, Aaron stormed out of the bathroom his boss face back on.
The amount of mutual respect between Hotch and Garcia is so important. Obviously, she respects him because he is her superior, but he treats her with just as much–and sometimes even more–respect and always encourages her to be herself.