𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 | 𝘼. 𝙃𝙊𝙏𝘾𝙃𝙉𝙀𝙍

nine

'Beck. Beck, you in there?' Morgan waved his hand across your face.

'Yep, yes, 100% here,' you reiterated although Morgan was suspicious.

'Right. Prentiss and Dave, question the Wirrell family, they'll tell us more about their sons than we know, Morgan and Beck- go to the crime scene, see what the cops may have missed,' he said with a watchful eye, 'Reid and JJ- you're with me,' he said, making you scoff inside your head. Not in the mood for driving, you tossed the keys at Morgan- his eyebrows raised as he caught them, and his sunglasses hitched a little. You got in the SUV first and scoffed, audible this time.

'Okay,' he started, 'Spill. What's the deal with you?'

'Hotch and Reid have been acting weird around me all day,' you complained.

'How so?' he said, turning the wheel.

'Reid asked me this morning if I would rather have Italian or Indian food and if I would either see a movie or go to a theme park. That's not something Spence would ask on his own accord, is it?' you looked at him.

'I guess not. Maybe they're planning something for you,' he suggested.

'Maybe. That was after he spoke to Hotch- alone- this morning. Whatever it is, I'm not enjoying it so far.'

'C'mon Beck, the kid might just be asking out of curiosity!'

'He's a boy wonder, he wouldn't have to ask unless it wasn't for himself,' you thought, biting the inside of your cheek. Morgan leaned backwards in his seat and looked to his left, seeing the crime scene in a ditch just below.

On return to the police station, Hotch looked at you as he sipped his coffee, Spencer did the same, in complete unison the two men were surveying you; this caused you to slam the files down on the desk and probe them.

'What are you hiding?' you tried to interrogate two of the most secretive people in the team.

'Nothing,' Spencer avoided and Hotch too shook his head.

'Well you're both hiding something from me, I'll find out eventually,' you stated with confidence and walked away. The minute your back was turned, you heard Hotch whisper to your colleague. Pissed, you pushed open the door and nearly took Morgan out. Pulling out your phone, Garcia was the first number you called.

'What can I do for you my sweet?' she chorused.

'Garcia, what do you know?'

'Know about what?' she questioned your question with a question, irritating you more.

'Why Hotch and Spencer are acting up! It's killing me, if you know anything just spill it already,' you shouted, near to boiling.

'Okay, okay. Spencer booked a table at an Italian restaurant, he asked me to do it for him!' and a silence broke.

'Thanks, Garcia,' you said, defusing.

'Whenever I can be of assistance...' she spoke, a little quiver in her tone. After you hung up, this quiver in Garcia's tone completely vanished and another voice spoke on the line.

'Good job, Garcia,' and he hung up too.

Handcuffing the Wirrell family's sons, you and Rossi set the last two hostages free and they hurled towards their parents, brothers- family. It was a rough case, not to demean any other cases, but when two brothers murdered several girls on behalf of their dead sister- just to get back at their parents, the day was always a little overwhelming. Sitting at a bar with a scotch seemed like a good idea on your arrival home. Huddling in warm clothing, the team boarded the jet, away from the cold of Florida nights and the case that you left there. It was night, the dead of night- the jet was eerily silent as every single person- including you, had been dozing. Reid's legs interlocked with yours and you kicked his foot slightly by accident, making him shudder awake

'Sorry,' you whispered.

'No bother,' he smiled, getting comfortable again.

'No, I'm sorry for acting out today. You just asked me a simple question and I...' you trailed.

'Over-analysed, overthought, overreacted?' Spencer filled the gaps.

'Yes,' you chuckled, and rested back again, looking over Virginia as you were about to land.

Clock, you needed a clock. Ah, 10pm, is that still a reasonable time to drink? Pondering over the idea, you weighed up the odds of how risky it was to end up in a bar at that moment but gave in to the urge and went.

'Hey Spence, wanna grab a drink with me?' you asked, linking your arm in his.

'The probability of me ending up in a bar at this time is a 75% chance of unlikeliness, so-'

'Hit me with the statistics after I've had a drink,' you swayed, but were stopped in your tracks.

'Beck, may I have a word?' your boss leaned over the railing.

'I'll wait for you downstairs,' Spencer nodded, smiling at Hotch as he left. You hitched your bag further up your shoulder and prepared yourself for anything; he opened the door for you, and you perched on the round table, letting your bag fall off your arm. Hotch crossed his arms.

'What's up?' you said innocently as he was trying to find the words.

'I don't know if this is professional or even acceptable, but I am willing to pull some strings to do this,' he gathered.

'Hotch, what's wrong?' you moved a little closer to him, his eyes beginning to wander.

He spoke, meeting your eyes with a smile, 'I'd like to take you out to dinner.'