the time travelers agent // hotchner x reader

v. is it you?

A cold shiver runs down your spine at his voice.
You don't know why you didn't recognize it sooner, it was the same voice from the dream you had.

You spin around on your heels so fast, you knock into a reporter beside you.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" You absentmindedly ask the girl, looking around the room.
You think she said she was okay, but you didn't stay long to see if it was true. You immediately start going through the crowd, your slim body allowing  you to get through without really being noticed.

By the time you reach the conference stand, he's nowhere to be seen. You curse quietly under your breath, rolling your small hands into tight, angry fists. He was right there, and you let him slip away.

Looking around you, you begin to take in how different everything is. The curtains in modern days were black and gray, but these are of a crisp velvet red. The carpet is no longer a light beige, but a dark brown and crimson pattern. You've also begun to notice that you are quite overdressed. You haven't seen a single woman in the clothes you're wearing. Your paranoia earlier told you people were staring because they knew you were a time traveler, but now you're starting to think that creepy clerk gave you the wrong year in clothing.

Gazing at the faces around you, you look for someone like another FBI agent or a police officer who may know where Agent Hotchner went. 

Your eyes land on a gentleman by himself sipping something from a glass, he has a badge attached to his belt loop. He looks friendly enough, and a lot less intimidating than the others in here. 

You make your way over to him, slipping through the crowd slyly as you did before.

Smoothing your hair down as well as your dress, you cough a little to grab his attention. He chokes on his drink, nearly coughing it back into his cup with a small sorry.

"My apologies ma'am." He says, pulling a hankerchief out of his pocket to dab his face. Once he straightens himself up, he turns back to you with a smile and a hat tilt.

"May I help you with something miss?" He asks smoothly, his voice gentle. You smile, showing off your 'million dollar smile' that seems to easily win people over in an instant. 

"Hello, I was wondering if you know where I can find Mister Aaron Hotchner?" You make your voice go a little higher than it really is, hoping to sound at least a little like Lauren Bacall. Was Lauren Bacall even discovered yet in 1940? You decide you will not mention her just to be on the safe side. 

"Hotch is probably down by the water. Calms his mood if he starts feelin' antsy. He likes to be alone down there sometimes, I wouldn't bother him if I were you miss. Mind if I ask who wants to know?" 

"I just wanted to speak to the unit chief myself, to ensure the safety of me and my family while these murders have been taking place on the mainland." You say, fiddling with a snag on your gloves in order to appear anxious.

"I can understand that. We been workin' real hard on trying to catch this guy, but he's a lot smarter than we thought initially. Doesn't seem to be any evidence on him coming here to the island, but we've increased security just in case. I'm sure you and your family will be just fine." He smiles, taking another sip from his drink. You smile at him, flashing another glimpse of your teeth. 

"Thank you so much for your time, officer-?"

"Officer Francis, ma'am." 

"Officer Francis. I'll see you around, thank you again." With another tip of his hat, you rush past Officer Francis and through the double doors out into the lobby. You head for the main front doors, desperately trying to ignore the stares you unfortunately have begun to attract.