Against Protocol (Aaron Hotchner X Reader)

chapter one: late nights

"We're heading out for dinner, Y/N. You coming?" Prentiss asked, sifting through today's project folders for the last time before she headed out.

The rest of the team gathered their jackets and joked about Reid's mishap with the female deputy earlier today, something involving one of Reid's brainiac jokes. You smiled at the offer, but beat yourself up inside for the missed opportunity.

It was relieving to see them opening up to you as the new agent, but dinner was out of the question. Today's case was a handful, and you were left with all of the busy work. Loads of folders sat on your desk like a manifestation of your anxieties, and yet you still contemplated going out just to see Hotch get riled up again.

Sometimes, when he was mad enough at you, the stoic stare on his face would falter, and that humiliating moment between boss and human was enough to make up for all the hurdles he made you cross.

But your job was more important, and you had already crossed the line today in Hotch's eyes. You looked at the team and then at folders with a roll of your eyes.

"Not tonight, Prentiss. I'll see you all tomorrow morning. Have fun."

Prentiss glanced at Hotch's office on the upper deck and shook her head. "He's always rough on the new members. He just wants to know if you're committed enough. Don't let what happened today get to you," Prentiss advised, throwing her coat over her shoulders.

"Trust me, I'm trying. I just don't think he's loving the idea of having me on the team."

"He's going to have to get used to it eventually. Good night."

"Bye Y/N! Have a great night," Garcia yelled back from the exit waving her hands frantically as she entered the elevator dancing in preparation for the fun night ahead.

The rest of the team followed suit, nodding off goodbyes with their chins and waves of their hands. The office was empty now, except for the janitor who was wrapping up for the night and the dim light coming from Hotch's office.

Time passed as you studied the paperwork for inaccuracies and jotted down notes on the case for the files. You closed the last manilla folder and sighed in relief, pushing yourself back into your chair as you looked back into Hotch's office. He was still there, even after all this time.

Regardless of your mutual hatred that interfered with the pleasantries of working with the BAU, Hotch was a hard worker, which you both loathed and admired.

You gathered all the paperwork and worked your way up the steps to Hotch's office. It was almost midnight, and every part of you was aching to go home.

You knocked at the door and heard Hotch's resonant voice from behind the door. "Come in."

He lifted his head up from the paperwork as the light fractured onto his face from one side. He scrutinized you for a second too long, holding out his hand to grab the paperwork. "You finished faster than I expected, Y/N."

"Wanting to go home is a compelling motivator," you retorted back, closing the door behind you. You sat down without his approval, which he only replied to with an intense glance.

He thumbed through the pages, inspecting them with searching eyes. "Here. Under the Interview Procedures you made a mistake. I suggest you fix this entire folder before you leave." He flipped the folder over to your side of the desk to show you the minuscule mistake.

"Sir, really? It's a minor error on one page. I don't need to go through the entire folder just to waste my time," you answered, standing your guard in front of Hotch's stagnant demeanor.

"If your attitude is about me not letting you interview the Unsub today, then I think you need to calm down, Y/N," Hotch calmly advised, closing the folder back up carefully.