"How long have you been waiting here?" you blurt out, the panic in your voice coming to the forefront. You stared back in disbelief, trying to visualize if Strauss standing in front of you was just a figment of your imagination, or if your sins had finally caught up to you.
"I just got here?" she answers matter-of-factly, looking down at you questionably as if the words that came out of your mouth had been a nonsensical, foreign tongue.
You discreetly let loose of the wound up tension in your shoulders.
You didn't know much about Strauss, only briefly meeting her during your job interview to the BAU. She had taken a keen interest in your placement at the BAU, going against Hotch's wishes to avoid making changes to the team during such a stage of vulnerability after Foyet.
However, despite her adamance on your placement, it was clear she was not impressed with your skill or work ethic. Reid had made it clear that night in Phoenix: Strauss needed to know if Hotch could handle it, if he was still fit for the job after all that happened to him.
"We need to talk," Strauss repeats.
"Of course. Where should we talk?" Hotch replies steadily, never letting on any sign of what happened moments prior. His cold exterior wrapped up around him — an oddly comforting reminder that he had let his guard down around you.
"Your office is fine. I won't take up too much of your time," she shares, carefully eyeing the two of you.
Walking back into Hotch's office minutes after what had unraveled was unnerving. You looked back down at the chair, then back to Hotch who still maintained his indifferent composure.
"What brings you here, Erin?" Hotch asks, taking lead of the conversation. "We were just about to head up to New York for a case."
"I'm aware," she curtly responds, facing her attention towards you briefly. "I'll be joining your team on the case. I'm conducting an audit, specifically on Y/N. With a new agent, and after everything this team has been through the past year, I'm trying to be proactive with this team."
"I understand the caution," Hotch tries to compromise. "But, you've never done an audit of our cases. Are you sure this is necessary?"
"Frankly, Aaron, I don't need you to question my actions," Strauss sternly rebuttals. "I need to ensure protocol is being followed. I don't need any more blood on my hands."
"I'm aware," Hotch responds, his cool, stony visage slightly fumbling. He hasn't acknowledged you since Strauss arrived, and a deep pit welled in your stomach. It felt like an endless crater burning through inside of you, and the guilt of knowing you were jeopardizing your — his — career nawed at you relentlessly.
"Well, good. I'll see the both of you on the jet," she finalizes, stepping out of the office with her chin held high and shoulders arched back. The clack of her heels leave indents in the carpet as you listen to her walk away, each step becoming fainter and fainter.
"That was close," you mutter out to him. You look to Hotch who was too invested in gathering his paperwork to return the eye contact.
He doesn't acknowledge the worry. "We should get going," he bluntly adds.
On the jet, he sits as far away as possible, yet the distance is suffocating. His gaze never lingers on you long enough for you to catch it, like a fleeting whisper in the air, but you can feel it burning into you.
Every addition you make to the conversation goes unnoticed by Hotch, and it seems like you're back to where you started at the BAU.
When you arrive in New York, the frigid atmosphere bites at your ears. The numbness slowly starts to reside as you guys enter the police station, an overworked and poorly run department.
Throughout the case, Strauss was glued to your hip. She followed your footsteps to the beat, took notes on seemingly frivolous tasks, and even stuck around to watch you refill your coffee mug, making an insolent comment on your caffeine intake.
With all eyes on you, you made sure every action was carefully deliberated, but you couldn't help but focus on how cold Hotch had been the entire time.
After delivering the profile, Strauss left to go see how the others were doing. With her gone, you catch Hotch on his way to the Sheriff's Office, dragging him into an empty briefing room. He stumbles in with you, caught off guard by your adamance.
His face remains stagnant, unbelievably apathetic and unwavering at the sight of you.
"What the hell, Hotch?" you exclaim with your voice falling into a soft whisper when you notice the door is still open. "I thought, I thought this was going . . . I don't know . . . well?
His eyebrows raise, taken aback by your statement. "Y/N, of course everything is going well," he reassures, instinctively lifting his hand up to brush your shoulder, but putting it down as he notices the open door to your right. "I do want to continue this. Just not now."
"Then, why do you keep pretending like I don't exist?' you question, hesitant on accepting his answer so quickly, no matter how badly you want to believe it. "You've dismissed all of my ideas today."
His face remains calm. "With Strauss around, our jobs are under intense scrutiny. I don't have the liberty of her knowing I'm fucking one of my agents. If she even has the slightest feeling there is something going on, everything is done for."
You contemplate for a moment, knowing he's right. Your career, your future at the BAU depended on keeping this a secret.
"But you are right," he admits, lowering his eyes in guilt. "And I'm sorry. All I can think about is losing this, losing you."
He continues, noticing you're tongue tied and at a loss for words. "Our physical relationship aside, I want you to know I do think you are an amazing agent. And if I made you feel any less than that, I apologize. I know I haven't made it clear to you, Y/N, I greatly admire your work. And I'm telling you this as your boss. Please know whatever happens between us outside of work, you will still be a respected member of my team — even if I have trouble showing it."
"Thank you." Your words stumble out, trickling off the tip of your tongue as Hotch's cold exterior melts.
"If at any point you want to stop what's happening between us, let me know. I would never want to place you in an uncomfortable position as your superior," he reminds.
"No. I want this," you assure him. And you did. Desperately.
"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Now let's leave before the team starts asking where we've been."
You follow Hotch out, diverging paths feeling a sense of inexplicable satisfaction rise up in you. You don't know what the feeling is, but it's a feeling you want to hold onto forever.
However, your mood comes to a crash and burn when you see Strauss around the corner, eyeing the door you and Hotch had just left.
"What was that?" Strauss inquires, pointing back to the room you came out of.
"What do you mean?" you ask, flustered. Shit.
"Don't lie to me. If Aaron has been on your case, I need to know."
"What? Oh, no. Hotch just had to, uh . . ." Your mind runs back to what Hotch had emphasized: making sure Strauss didn't know what was happening. "Hotch was just reminding me how important it is to review details. I had made a slight mistake in the paperwork, and he wanted to make sure I knew."
"Alright," she answers, failing to elaborate.
The case quickly wrapped up, and even the unbearable frost of Upstate New York couldn't bring the mood down. The team and you drove through the small town — picking up dinner from a local Russian eatery which even Rossi was impressed by — before heading back home on the jet.
When you return to the BAU, settling down your go-bag and ready to head home and take a much needed bath, you hear Strauss' voice emanate from her office. She calls you and Hotch in. Something in her voice causes your heart to drop.
You and Hotch enter, brushing shoulders as you walk in and then immediately distancing yourselves. Strauss' fingers clasp together on her desk, apathetically inviting you in.
"Sit down," Strauss advises. "I'm sure you know why I brought the two of you here. Is there anything you want to admit?"
Her eyebrow raises as she leans in further across her desk. Your heartbeat quickens, and the loud thump of your heart occupies your body. Everything was unravelling in front of you. She knew. She had to know.
"Really? Aaron. Don't act dumb with me."
Hotch shakes his head, playing confused. "Sorry, Erin. I don't understand where you're going with this."
"It's getting quite obvious, Aaron. If you have something you need to say, I suggest you say it now," she demands, the flames in her voice rising up and burning the edges of her words.
You didn't think you'd be caught. Not like this. Not ever.
"Well? It's become increasingly evident that you and Y/N have harbored hatred for one another. You haven't treated her as an equal member, and it's clear Y/N does not respect you."
You feel so relieved, you slip out an intrusive sigh which Strauss chooses to ignore.
"I apologize if I made it seem that way. Y/N is just new to the team. We are still working on a compatible dynamic," he states stiffly, but you know him well enough to hear the sense of relief in his voice knowing Strauss is still clueless on your true relations. For a moment, you forget you're being reprimanded, as you watch Hotch skillfully diffuse the situation.
"New or not, this is unacceptable. I saw you two talking in that room during the case. Y/N told me it was about a mistake she made, but I could tell she was just too scared to admit what had really happened. You've been too harsh on her, and it's impacting the way you run this team, Aaron."
"I understand. I'll make sure it won't happen again," Hotch states.
"To better foster a cohesive team, you and Y/N will need to learn to work together. University of Virginia is requesting BAU members to teach a profiling elective at the school. Like it or not, you and Y/N will be teaching it. Maybe this way you two will learn how to not claw at each other's throats."
"We have cases to work on," Hotch interjects, discontent at the busy work. Hotch was never one to back down from guiding his team, and this was just another obstacle coming between him and his work.
"The team has been assigned to a local case while you guys were in Charleston, remember? You can help work on it the days you're here. I'm having Agent Morgan head the team on the days you are away while you go down and lecture the students."
You remember the case, a simple souvenir serial killer. The team had been consulted by local PD, but they hadn't gotten far.
Hotch doesn't continue to argue, rendering it a useless attempt at appealing to Strauss. "Okay."
"Tomorrow. Your first class. If this doesn't work out, then we'll be having a much more serious conversation next time."
Strauss dismisses you finally, and you head down to the elevator. With your book bag slung across your shoulder and the stacks of papers you needed to skim through before the class tomorrow, Hotch catches the elevator door, inviting himself in beside you.
"Teaching buddies?" you enthusiastically joke, noticing the growing smirk on his face after fooling Strauss. "Didn't think you were the professor type."
"Well, I don't know how I'm going to focus with you up there with me."
"And why is that?" you tease.
"All I'll be able to think about is bending you over and showing everyone what a brat you were today."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
okay first, THANK YOU FOR 10K READS!! oh my, didn't think this fic would gain much traction this quick.
also, i always see (and love) professor hotch fics, so i thought this was a good middle ground with Y/N also helping out with teaching. hopefully, you guys enjoy what i have planned!!
love you guys! your comments are so kind
: )