(13) Distrust

It was difficult for you to get out of bed for the first days back in D.C. Often, you would wake up, not knowing where you are. The sounds are different, the air is. You drunk coffee out of the same cup probably a hundred times, but it felt alien for about a week. You gave yourself five days to acclimate and get it together. Of course, that's not enough to get over weeks and weeks of imprisonment and the stress related to that. But you want to go back to work. You want to do what you love again.

Today is the first day it was easy for you to get out of bed. As soon as your alarm rang, your eyes opened, and you smiled at the sight of your bedroom. The director signed you up for psychological evaluation in order to get cleared for the field. You, however, managed to argue successfully that you are technically not a field agent, thus not needing to be cleared. You settled for being under supervision of your team, them agreeing to report to SSA Hotchner should they notice you display reckless or endangering behavior. Whatever that could look like, considering you're not even allowed to carry a weapon.

Whatever, you tell yourself and put on your clothes.

- - - - - - - - - -

You zoned out several times on the drive to the BAU. It's difficult for you to concentrate. You think about Tim. The sadness in his eyes when he realized how he threw away years of his life. You think a lot about your last conversation with him, fully aware now that it was recorded by Alvez and is now in FBI records. It must be difficult for the team to listen to or read.

Stepping in the elevator, you notice that you're way more nervous than you expected to be. You clutch your briefcase so hard that it hurts your fingers. The ding of the elevator causes you to flinch. For a moment, after the doors open, you just stand there - observing the people walking by, the busy bullpen.

Remembering the first day you set foot in this building, you take a deep breath and exit the elevator. As soon as you push open the glass doors with the big FBI logo on them, everyone stops talking. Heads turn towards you. Pretending to be calm, you nod at no one in particular and walk towards your desk.

Suddenly, Morgan steps forward, puts his arm around your shoulder and exclaims: "Everybody welcome back the most badass forensic liaison in the history of the FBI!"

Immediately, the rest of the team starts clapping and howling, Prentiss whistling loudly. The other agents that happen to be nearby as well join in. It makes you smile widely, and you have to swallow hard, trying not to tear up.

"Thank you." You whisper into Morgan's ear when you hug him. He squeezes you tightly and says: "Glad to have you back."

The others greet you as well, even Reid giving you a hug.

The commotion in the bullpen causes Hotchner to come out of his office. When he spots you, he smiles at you for just a second. But his face quickly turns stern again.

The others step aside to let him greet you. Casually, like it's never been another way, he extends his hand. You shake it and he tells you: "Welcome back, Professor."

"Thank you, Sir."

Everyone except the two of you seem taken aback. Like they forgot what you stated in your interview. You feel the tension rise, but Hotchner interrupts it: "We have a case, conference room in five minutes."

- - - - - - - - - -

Somehow, the rest of the team seems to have more difficulties to handle the new situation than you and Hotch do. Whereas you two were perfectly able to discuss the case on the jet, the others kept getting sidetracked, exchanging looks. Maybe it's because Hotch and you try extra hard to be professional. It almost makes you laugh, remembering how hard you tried to be professional when you first met Hotch.

"Are you sure, you're okay?" JJ asks you on the way to the local precinct.

"Yeah, of course."

"It's been a lot…just let me know when you want to talk. Alright?"

You smile: "That's kind of you. I will." After a pause, you ask: "Did Foyet really spread the corpses over D.C. to get our attention?"

"Looks like it. We flagged the case to make sure if something similar happens again we are informed right away. But I doubt it."

"Hmh." You nod and look out the window for the rest of the ride.

- - - - - - - - - -

Posed as a scarecrow, a body was found in a field by a group of teenagers. The coroner already performed an autopsy, but Hotch sends you to take a look at the corpse, nonetheless. You're glad to get away from the team a little. It exhausts you pretend like everything is back to normal.

Eyes on the whiteboard, Hotch orders: "Take Reid with you."

You disagree: "I don't need him."

Hotch turns around, throwing you an angry look: "I said, take Reid with you."

Fraught, the others observed the interaction, Reid awkwardly standing between Hotch and you like he isn't sure whose order he should follow.

Your lips tighten: "Fine."

You turn on your heels, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walk to the car.

Letting Reid drive, you take the coroner's report and re-read it.

"What made you change your mind?" He suddenly asks.

"About what?" You respond without looking up.

"Hotch."

"Most relationships between colleagues don't work out." You tell him with an indifferent voice.

"Statistically speaking you are right, but I didn't notice any signs of your being relationship precarious."

"You neither noticed us being together."

"I know, but…"

"Let it go, Reid."

"Okay." He agrees with a quiet voice.

You sigh in relief when you park in front of the coroner's office.

"How can I help you?" Reid asks, unsure what he's supposed to do since you basically said that he's useless here.

"Keep the coroner off my back. They tend to take my presence personal."

He gladly agrees, following you inside.

Not wanting Reid to feel bad for being here with you, you ask him to assist you with certain parts of going over the autopsy and having a look at the body again. It's difficult for him to be close to the corpse, so you don't ask him to touch it. Curiously, he observes as you touch the dead woman without restraint.

First, you have a closer look at her hands. Gently, you lift one by the wrist before turning it to check out her palm. Then you palpate the skin, inspecting every finger. You don't notice anything and go over the other hand.

When you take off the sheet covering her, Reid takes a step back.

"She's dead." You tell him. "Not looking at her is misguided respect. Show her respect by overcoming your reservations and help her, help me."

He swallows hard, fumbling with the hem of his vest. Eventually, he nods and leans over her to help you search for anything the medical examiner might have overlooked.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stretching your back, you groan: "There has to be something."

Even Reid seems frustrated, sitting down on one of the stools.

"Did they interview the boys who found her?"

"They should be right now." He tells you.

You get out your phone and call Prentiss. Luckily, she picks up.

"Hey, did you find out anything interesting during the interview?"

"Hotch and Morgan are still talking to them."

Sighing, you ask her: "Could you get me Hotch on the phone?"

She hesitates but agrees. You hear her opening the door to the interrogation room, quietly telling Hotch that you want to speak to him.

Annoyed, he answers: "What?"

You look at Reid and roll your eyes before you ask, stickily sweet: "Could you please ask them to describe how the body looked when they found it as detailed as possible?"

"We have crime scene photos."

"Yes, but between them finding her and law enforcement arriving about two hours passed. Maybe there-"

"You're the medical expert. It would be best for you to come here and asks these questions yourself."

You hang up as soon as he finished the sentence. Pushing your phone back in your pocket, you cover the body back up. Without questioning what you're doing, Reid helps you push the body in the cooler.

Determined, you walk down the hallway to the interrogation room, your steps echoing off the walls. The folder with the crime scene photos in one hand, you open the door. Even though they are done with the interview, Hotch looks annoyed when you walk in without knocking. Morgan already left.

Laying the folder on the table, you extend your arm to shake the hands of the boys. They may be fifteen. They look surprised by your polite gesture. It makes them smile. After introducing yourself, you explain: "The woman wasn't dead very long when you found her. It is important for us to know when exactly she died, so I need you to tell me if anything looked different when you found her than it looks on the photos we took. Okay?"

They only look at you, as if Hotch wasn't there.

"Okay." They agree.

Slowly, you open the folder and spread the crime scene photos on the table. They're hesitant, but they look at them. "Take your time." You encourage them.

Eventually, one of them points at the photo of the naked feet of the woman: "She was still bleeding."

You collect the other photos, only leaving the one he pointed at on the table.

"Can you tell me what exactly it looked like?"

He clears his throat: "Dark blood. Dark blood was running down her foot."

"Thank you." You smile. "You were very helpful."

"Really?"

"Yes. Would you like something to drink?"

Both of them frantically nod.

"Come on. There is a vending machine in the hallway." Hotch looks like he wants to protest, but you say: "We're done here."

Relieved they follow you to the vending machine. You get them what they ask for, the folder with the pictures under your arm.

"Why are you not an agent?" One of them asks.

Deadpan, you answer: "I can't shoot."

They giggle. "Being a Professor is way cooler anyways."

It makes you chuckle: "I think so too."

After the boys left, you meet the others in the conference room. Without missing a beat, Hotchner raises his voice at you: "You don't get to decide when an interview is over."

You throw the folder on the table and prop your hands up on your hips: "Oh, I'm sorry. Were there any other pointless questions you wanted to ask?"

Prentiss inhales sharply and Reid looks like he is watching his parents fight over visitation rights.

As you stare each other down, Rossi tries to diffuse the tension: "What did you find?"

You don't take your eyes off Hotch for another moment, before looking at Rossi: "One of the boys said that the woman was still bleeding when they found her."

"How's that possible?" Morgan asks.

"I would suggest that she had pressors in her blood. Maybe prescribed ones, maybe illegal ones like crystal. She must have taken them relatively shortly before her death."

"Oohhh!" Reid exclaims. "So, the one who gave her the drugs must have been the last one to see her alive."

"Or the first one to see her dead…"

Rossi snickers at your comment and asks: "Didn't her brother state that her ex is a dealer?"

"God damnit." Hotchner mumbles and signals the others suit up for the arrest.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Good job, Professor!" Prentiss raises her cup of coffee on the jet back to D.C. "First case back and already showing off." You smile and raise your mug as well.

Hotch cannot help himself but rain on your parade: "Great job, everyone. Strauss will be happy to see how well our team-effort paid off."

JJ furrows her eyebrows and looks at you. You just shrug your shoulders.

When you walk to the jet's bathroom, you hear JJ whisper-scream at Hotch: "Stop being so hard on her."

He answers something in the same tone, but you already closed the door behind you.

- - - - - - - - - -

Pressing you against the wall in the living room, Aaron is holding you up by the thighs, fucking you hard. You moan, clawing into the back of his neck.

Slowing down his movements, he takes a deep breath and asks: "Do you think we're overdoing it?"

You let out a husky chuckle and roughly grab his hair: "I think we're doing just fine."

Aaron groans, lifting you off his dick to carry you to the bedroom.

Six Days Ago, The night of Foyet's arrest

With screeching tires, the cars stop.

The doors open, agents piling out of the cars. Your whole body starts to shake, and your knees are about to give out. Most of them immediately go forth and arrest the guards that are sitting on the ground.

Then you see your team. Prentiss and Morgan are the first ones you can make out. Just looking at them makes you cry. Hot tears start run down your face while you keep standing still, overwhelmed by the scenery.

A tall figure walks towards you with long strides. At first you don't believe it, your brain not catching up to what's happening. But when your eyes meet, you know it's real.

Sprinting the last few steps, Aaron rushes over to you hug you.

You're just with him for maybe thirty seconds.

But it's enough for you to say the most important things.

"I love you." You whisper, your voice shaky.

"I love you too."

"You didn't believe what I said, did you?"

"I remembered how you told me to not ever convince myself again that you don't love me."

You let out a relieved laugh.

"Officially, I meant every word."

"Yeah, you did." Aaron nods, understanding what you're getting at.

Then the rest of the team arrives, everyone hugging you, kissing your cheeks, crying just as much as you do.

Right Now

Throwing you onto the bed, Aaron wastes no time to take off his shirt properly. He crawls onto you, littering your neck with kisses. You let out an appreciative hum, running your hands up and down his sides.

"Please, Aaron."

He lifts his head, presses a kiss to your cheek and murmurs: "What?"

"Please, just fuck me."

Groaning at your words, he grabs his dick, making sure the condom is still in place, before plowing into you.

Your back arches, and your head falls back as you moan loudly before letting out a sigh. Aaron lets out similar sounds as he whispers: "You're absolutely perfect."

Remembering the first time he said that to you, you smile widely and tell him: "Right back at-"you get interrupted by your own moan as he fucks you harder, "Right back at you, Sir."

Pressing your legs to his sides, you yank his head back to expose his throat. He almost growls at the gesture before letting out quiet moans as you start to suck on the skin below his pulse point. His hips studder at the sensation, which you take as your cue to flip Aaron onto his back.

Now on top of him, you start to roll your hips, aggressively chasing your orgasm.

"Oh, babe…" He sighs, eyes fluttering shut.

Leaning down, you press wet kisses to his lips, biting his lower lip.

Clawing into your thighs, he tells you: "I…I'm about to cum."

Smiling, you guide one of his hands to your clit. Instantly, he starts to stimulate it, his rough fingers creating the friction you need to tense around him.

"Cum for me." You murmur. The sounds that coaxes out of Aaron, the way his face contorts, and his whole body spasm, is what pushes you over the edge. Rolling your hips, you prolong your orgasm as much as you can.

Eventually, you stop, collapsing on his chest. Satisfied, you kiss his collarbones, quietly humming. Aaron throws his arms around you, the heat of your bodies making you both feel like you're on fire.

For a few minutes, you lay there in silence, feeling the other's breathing slow down. When you roll off him, Aaron runs his fingers through your hair, smiling at you brightly.

"I wanted to fuck you so bad when…" He sighs.

"When?"

"Well, every time you fucking provoked me."

You chuckle: "You did way worse."

Aaron props his head up to have a better look at you: "Oh, really?"

Making quotation marks in the air, you mockingly repeat his words: "I said, take Reid with you"

"Pffff." He pushes you into the mattress, making you squeal in surprise. "Any other pointless questions you wanted to ask?"

You laugh: "Well, were there?"

"Oh, shut up." He growls.

"Or what?" You ask with a smug voice.

"Oh, I will fucking show you."