(12) you better run

You're both in the front yard, planting bushes that can survive even with less sunshine and cold air. You went to the nursery and got a little carried away. Now you're sweating in the bright sun the coast of Maine blessed you with today. On days like this, you can look across the ocean all the way to Nova Scotia. Especially, when you're standing in the lighthouse.

"Already up and running!" The postman calls from the road.

You get up and greet him.

"I've got a package for Thomas Gibson."

Cleaning your hands using your dungarees, you walk over to him. He's nice. He always comes out here first on his tour ever since you let him walk up the lighthouse and drank a beer up there with him. He treats you like you're just the new couple that moved here after they had enough of the big city, but there is something in his eyes. It's like he's winking at you without actually winking at you. Like he's telling you 'I know there is something else going on here, but I've seen enough movies about retired agents to leave you alone'. It's amusing. Especially because he's wrong.

You're not retired.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

- - - - - - - - -

Strauss hands you passports and a dossier: "Your new life."

Aaron takes the file and opens it, leaning towards you so you can read it too. You can barely concentrate on the words, so you quickly give up and look out of the car window instead. The outskirts of D.C. are flying by. With every street you cross, you get further away from your home. Desperately, you hold on to your bag.

Strauss says something that you cannot understand either. With a blank stare you look at her. Aaron notices and takes your hand. Your head shoots around and you find his eyes which tell you that he's just as afraid as you are. Strauss keeps trying to talk to you.

"Just give her a minute!" Aaron snaps at her and she falls silent.

You scoot over to him, his scent calming you down at least a bit. Anxiety almost overwhelming you to the point that you start to cry, you fidget with the ring around your finger. Your bottom lip quivers as you try to keep it together. Tears form in Aaron's eyes. He puts his arm around you, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

Caressing your back, he kisses your temple and tells you: "We will be alright."

You nod. Finally able to control your facial expressions again, you lean up and look at Strauss.

"Where are we going?"

She's surprised by your change in demeanor, and it takes her a second to reply: "North Carolina. From there, you will fly to Florida, then to your actual destination."

You raise an eyebrow: "You really think Foyet has the resources that require such countermeasures?"

"He pulled it off once. I don't think you will survive a second time."

Internally, you flinch at her words. She's right.

Eventually, Aaron speaks up and starts to ask very technical and practical questions. His professional behavior is reassuring. For once, you truly appreciate the stern look on his face.

At the airport, a jet is waiting to take you to Florida. From there, you'll take a commercial flight under your new names.

Neither of you speaks during the first flight. You just quietly hold hands.

Then, however, something happens in Florida. You have a few hours to spend. It's broad daylight, and suddenly, you both quietly decide to pretend that you're on vacation. You never were on one together before. You buy postcards to send to no one. Arm in arm, you stroll down the boardwalk.

"Were you ever in Tampa before?"

Aaron looks down at you, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses you got for him.

"Maybe." His dark voice cuts through the noise of waves crashing onto the shore, people talking, and seagulls screeching above.

"You don't know?"

He shakes his head: "I cannot remember every city I've been in for a case. Eventually, all the towns become the same. The motels always look the same. The take-out tastes the same. Just the cases are different."

You furrow your eyebrows. You never thought about how many cases Aaron worked before you joined the team. Sure, you read most of the reports, but simply skimming through the files doesn't enable you to grasp how much work went into them.

Looking up, you lift your chin, making Aaron to smile and lean down to kiss you. Then he asks: "We didn't have dinner, should be get breakfast?"

Nodding, you put your arm around him as he chooses a random restaurant to eat in.

At the check in for the flight to Maine, you've become more comfortable in your role. However, you're still nervous when they look at your passports. Aaron told you several times that since a Federal Agency issued the passports they won't get flagged, but you're still fidgeting until you finally allowed to board the plane.

Aaron's concern is way more aimed at the possibility of Tim Foyet following you. He keeps scanning the surroundings, visibly cautious. Even more so since you don't have any back-up.

"What will Strauss tell the team?" You whisper after the plane took off.

"The same thing she told us, without giving away out identities."

"They aren't allowed to know our whereabouts?"

"For now, they aren't."

You nod, looking out the window of the airplane, eyes darting over the cities you're flying over, not sure what awaits you when you land.

- - - - - - - - -

To your surprise, nothing awaits you. For some reason, there was a full-on black cars with tinted windows and Agents opening you the door scenario in your head. The contrary is the case. Suddenly, Aaron and you are exiting an airport that looks like it's on the brink of civilization. Since he insisted on carrying both bags, it's your job to wave down a taxi. When the driver asks where to, you panic because you didn't memorize the address. Luckily, your fiancée is trained for this stuff and nonchalantly tells him.

"That's a long way." The driver comments.

It's one hundred miles from Bangor International Airport to Cutler. Since it's not his money but the Agency's Aaron doesn't hesitate to hand the driver what looks like at least a thousand dollars. He takes it and drives off without further questioning.

Cutler. Town in Washington County. Five hundred and seven residents. Well, soon five hundred and nine.

Route 191 leading into and out of it, Cutler lies right at the coast of the Gulf of Maine.

It's just past noon when you arrive at the white, two-story house with a small lighthouse right next to it. With a groan, you stretch your legs and wave the taxi driver goodbye, who didn't ask any questions about why you're taking a taxi instead of a train or why on earth you're moving to a new house with only two bags.

You look around, eyes lingering on the edge of the forest that lies on the others side of the road. The sounds the trees make as they move in the ocean breeze is something you haven't heard in a long time. When you look up at the sky, you notice how the shades of blue and white are different from the sky in D.C. You're, depending on how you're counting, about six states above Maryland. The dirt road under your shoes crunches as you slowly turn around, observing your new surroundings with wide eyes.

"Babe!" Aaron interrupts your big-city-colored thoughts. When you look at him, he's holding up the keys to the house. You give him a smile and make your way through the front yard that definitely could use some improvement.

Full of expectation, you hold your breath as he unlocks the front door. It swings open and a bright space welcomes you. Full of light-colored furniture, the living room, a small hallway leads to, includes a small kitchen on the right, and a fireplace as well as a backdoor leading straight to the shore on the left.

Aaron goes straight for the fully equipped kitchen to make coffee. You take your bags and walk upstairs. There are only two rooms: a bathroom and a bedroom. They look just as much as a vacation home as the downstairs does. You like it.

When you open the wardrobe to hang up the clothes you brought, you find that some are already there. It's somewhat your style and creepily it's your size. You decide not to think about how they knew that. At least they didn't go and buy you underwear. The image of two fully trained Agents standing in line to buy women's underwear makes you chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Aaron suddenly appearing next to you causes you to flinch. He hands you a fresh cup of coffee and you press a kiss to his lips before taking a sip.

"I was just thinking about how someone spent years at the academy to then get the assignment to go buy us some clothes."

He chuckles as well: "I never thought about that."

"Did you never have to do something like this?" You point at the clothes.

Aaron shakes his head: "When I transferred from my job as a prosecutor to the BAU, my salary was probably already too high to make me do such things."

You grin.

"What?"

"It's hot when you brag without meaning to."

"Is it now?" He mirrors your smile and leans down to kiss you. This time slow, and his free hand on the side of your face. You hum and gently suck on his bottom lip.

When he looks at you again, he tells you: "I think the sleep deprivation is making you delirious."

"Why?" You pinch his butt. "Because I think my fiancée is hot?"

Amused, he shakes his head: "The emotional roller coaster of the last twenty-four hours is really getting to you, isn't it?"

Taking the mug from his hand, you put it down on the nightstand next to yours. Then you start to slowly open Aaron's dress shirt and tell him: "You know, emotional stress often leads to sexual desire. It's a coping mechanism."

"Oh, that makes sense." He mumbles as the shirt falls to the floor.

While you wait for him to explain that statement further, you take off your own top.

"Before we met, I masturbated like crazy during cases."

"Oh god." You whisper, clenching around nothing at the thought of Aaron jerking off in a motel room before putting on his suit and presenting himself all professional and stern.

"I mean, I still do sometimes, but…"

Grabbing his belt, you pull him towards you, eliciting a surprised groan out of him.

"I do too." You whisper and wink at him.

"You want to inaugurate our new bed?" He asks while fumbling with your belt and pushing your pants down as soon as he gets it open.

"I like the idea that the first thing we do in it is fuck." You state and crawl onto it, only wearing your panties. With a sigh, you sink into the fresh sheets and new mattress.

Soon, Aaron follows you, his warm body pinning you down.

- - - - - - - - -

The little to no sleep, some of the wine you drank still in your system, being on two planes and driving across Maine put you into a hazy and equally horny state. It feels like you're high. Aaron's eyes are just as glazed as he apparently feels the same.

Trailing kisses from your neck to your lips, he grinds his hardening dick against you. It causes your hips to rise and reciprocate the move. Mumbling something unintelligible, he gets off the bed. On his way out the room, sporting a visible boner, he orders over his shoulder: "Take off your panties and spread your legs."

After that sentence left his lips, your brain barely registers the insight that he went to get a condom. Instead, your entire body is set aflame. You hastily take off your panties and throw them towards the dresser.

Since you both developed the dynamic of being switches, it's exciting every time to explore who will be the top and who the bottom. And even though you were the one who initiated this, Aaron obviously found an outlet for his stress by being the demanding one.

And it absolutely thrills you.

Leaning against the headboard of your new bed, you bend your right knee and spread your legs. Hearing Aaron come up the stars, causes goosebumps to spread all over your skin. His hard dick in hand, he already is rolling the condom over it. He must have taken off his boxers along the way. When he sees you on the bed, he stops dead in his tracks and takes his time to drag his eyes over you.

You start to smile when you realize that you have absolutely no urge to close your legs. There is so much trust between you, it feels right to be open like this. Aaron smiles as well while he gets on the bed.

Even though he is obviously aroused beyond believe, he firstly presses a wet kiss to your lips as his hand finds your labia. He runs his fingers up and down, a smug look on his face when he comments: "You're always so wet for me."

Leaning forward, you grab his dick and lightly stroke it. He knows what you're alluding to with the gesture and tells you: "And it makes me hard every time."

Tilting your head, you keep up the eye contact until your faces are too close; then you kiss him with all you have. It causes both of you to clasp the others face, almost desperate to communicate your love like this. The slow movements of your lips pick up in pace until you're both panting and you cannot stand the lack of stimulation between your legs anymore.

"Please, I need you inside of me." You whisper, Aaron's breath on your cheek.

He immediately grabs your hips and yanks you towards him. Kneeling in front of you, he tightens his grip on your waist until you climb onto his lap, straddling him. As you lift your hips, he tilts his dick up so you can sink down on it.

The sensation makes you sigh, and Aaron puts his arms around you to hold you close to him.

"Go on." He orders with a gravelly voice and lightly slaps your ass. You start to bounce on his dick. Your head falls forward and you rest it on Aaron's shoulder. Enthusiastically, you roll your hips. Enjoying the feeling of being stretched out, you ignore the growing pain in your legs as long as possible. You're too stubborn to stop. Eventually though, your small moans are interrupted by staggered breaths. Aaron instantly notices and grabs your shoulders to make you stop and look at him.

"Do your legs hurt?"

Hesitantly, you nod.

With a swift movement, he lifts you off his dick and pushes you into the mattress. Then he stretches your legs for you, leaning down to kiss your thighs several times. You close your eyes at the relieving feeling. Suddenly, however, a hand grabs your neck, and your eyes shoot open again. Thumb pressing against your jaw, Aaron makes you look at him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He sounds equally worried and angry.

"I didn't want to stop." You reply quietly.

Pressing harder against the side of your neck, he tells you: "You will not ever be in pain again and not say anything. Do you understand?"

You nod, eyes wide.

"Words."

"Should I ever be in pain again, I will tell you."

Satisfied with your statement, he lets go off your throat and kisses you quickly. Then he whispers into your ear: "Unless, of course, you ask me to do something to you…"

You nod again and writhe beneath him to get him to thrust into you again.

Leaning up to look at you, Aaron orders in his stern voice: "Then ask me."

"Please, Sir, choke me and fuuuuuckkk…" The rest of the sentence gets lost in your moan as he grabs your neck again and finally pushes himself back into you.

Aggressively starting to fuck you, he stares at your face that contorts in pleasure.

"God, I love your dick." You blurt out, causing Aaron to lose his serious demeanor for a moment and blush.

Running your hands over his chest, you smile up at him. With a small smile on his lips as well, he obliges to your wish and starts to choke you until your chest is heaving. He lets go and waits until your breathing clamed down as much as it can while getting fucked hard. Then he goes back at it, not stopping his thrusts for a second.

The hazy feeling comes back and clouds your mind as you're deprived of oxygen. Your eyes roll back, and you barely are able to stay properly conscious. What you do notice though, is that Aaron starts to lose his rhythm.

He lets go of your throat to prop himself up on his elbows left and right of your head. You inhale deeply, blindly reaching for his shoulders to hold on to them.

Before you can utter the words to let him know, your back arches and you cum. Legs pressing against his sides, you claw into Aaron's back and let out a groan. You flinch when he bites into the soft skin above your breasts, smothering his own moans. The stinging sensation is just on the verge of being painful – and you bathe in it.

His pelvis smashing against yours, Aaron fucks you through your orgasm until he cums himself. Just when the sensation is about to get too much, he pulls out of you. Barely able to see, you grab the blanket and cover yourself up. The rustling of the sheets tells you that Aaron is getting rid of the condom before laying down next to you.

Then he gently caresses your naked arm and back until you slip into a deep sleep.

- - - - - - - - -

You're slouching on one of the deck chairs outside, covered in a blanket to shield yourself from the wind, and let your eyes wander over the ocean, not observing anything in particular. You haven't heard anything from the team for the whole month you've been here. On the one hand, you're anxious and sad because you miss them, on the other hand, you are relieved because, so you tell yourself, not hearing anything means that nothing bad happened.

You hear the door fall shut behind you as Aaron comes outside as well. He hands you a cup of tea and sits down on the chair next to you. Then he holds up an envelope. He already opened it and tells you: "We got a coupon for a restaurant in the mail."

You sit up straight and put your mug down in the grass. Aaron hands you the envelope and you look at said coupon. You haven't heard of the restaurant and when you read the address, you see that it's located a few towns down the coast.

A smile spreads on your face when you take a look at the stamp. Even though the letter got processed in Maine, the stamp shows a picture of the Capitol. Glancing at your watch, you declare: "Well, we better put on some fancy clothes if we want to go today."

Aaron kisses your cheek: "Let's go then."

The car you're driving now is very different from the large SUV you're used to from work. Since the road down to the 191 is quite narrow, an SUV wouldn't fit anyways. It's still amusing, though, to see Aaron in a car that doesn't make him appear normal sized but shows how rudely tall he is instead.

When he has to stop at a red light, he takes your hand that's been resting on your thigh and squeezes it.

"It's possible that it's just a test run."

"A test run? For when the team actually wants us to know something?"

He nods and lets go of your hand to shift the gear.

"I won't be disappointed either way." You promise. "I get to have a night out with you, the rest will just be a bonus."

Observing you from the corner of his eyes, Aaron parks the car next to the restaurant. It's in a cute town, a little bigger than the one you live in now.

After he helped you out of the car, Aaron kisses your cheek.

"What's that for?" You ask.

"For being you."

You don't know what to reply so you just kiss him back as you make your way to the entrance.

When he shows the waiter the voucher, she gives you a bright smile and leads you to a table in the corner. You shoot Aaron a look and raise your eyebrow. After the waiter left with your drink order, he whispers you: "Something tells me there are more Agents in this area than we thought."

"Like a safe haven?" You joke.

But Aaron nods: "It would make sense to have several undercover or witness protection subjects close to each other. We're basically each other's back up without knowing it."

"And all that from the look on the waitress' face?"

"You seem to forget who I am."

"My apologies Sir Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner."

His face falls. Your hand flies to your mouth and your eyes widen as your pulse picks up in speed.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

Looking around as casual as possible, Aaron observes the rest of the guests. No one is sitting at one of the tables around you. Still, too close for comfort.

He puts his arm around you: "It's fine."

"I'm really sorry; it's just that I can say it at home, and…"

Kissing your cheek, he repeats his affirmation, and comments about how he likes that you call the house home.

You're thankful when the waitress brings out your drinks, it distracts you from the fact that you just gave away his identity for anyone to hear.

Taking a big sip, you look around just as Aaron did before. Everyone looks normal. No one is young enough to possibly be a hitman or something like that. Except the staff. Your heartbeat picks up again.

Since you don't say anything, Aaron orders for the both of you. Nervous, you fidget with the hem of your dress shirt. You cannot shake the paranoia, the feeling of being watched. Still, you make small talk with Aaron to appear as normal as possible to anyone else. Unmemorable.

Soon, you get your food, but you can barely get anything down. The lump in your throat, wandered down to your stomach and you have to force yourself to sit up straight.

"You're still nervous."

"Yes."

"I'm the first one to notice when something is up. I promise, it's fine."

You nod. You know that he's right. You're sitting next to the best profiler. Next to the man who deducted the color of someone damn socks in a court room. And still…You're about to go insane.

Suddenly, a waiter walks around the corner. Something black in his hand. You immediately come to the conclusion that it's a gun. You're reminded of the day you were abducted from work. You should have listened to your instinct then; you should probably listen to your instinct now. However, you freeze. What are you supposed to do? Fight him without being trained for hand-to-hand combat?

"Excuse me." The waiter says. "Are you Thomas Gibson?"

"Yes." Aaron states.

He doesn't want to shoot you. But what does he want?

"There is someone on the phone for you." He hands Aaron what you thought was a gun.

"Thank you."

You let out a quiet sigh.

"Thomas Gibson." He answers the phone. As soon as the person on the other end starts talking, a smile spreads on his face. Spencer, he mouths. Your eyes widen.

Finally, you realize why you felt like you're being watched. There is a surveillance camera in the corner of the restaurant, pointed at you. You're damn sure Penelope is watching you right now. So, you take your glass and toast while looking straight at it.

Two seconds later, Aaron leans over to tell you: "Garcia says hi."

Since you cannot put the phone on speaker, you have to lean over and try to understand as much as possible. It makes you so happy to hear Spencer's voice, even if it's only the filtered version.

Aaron hangs up just before the call hits the one-minute mark. After putting the phone down for the waiter to collect when he comes back, he tells you quietly: "They are on the case. But they have to work other cases as well. There has been a series of murders in Austin and Strauss could not justify to not send them."

You nod, just elated to hear something, anything really. "And, of course, everyone says hi and that they miss us."

"I miss them as well." You say even though they cannot hear you.

"They know." Aaron kisses your cheek as he plays with a strand of your hair.

You prop your head up on your hand and eye the camera.

Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind: "Who's unit chief now?"

Aaron chuckles: "Prentiss."

"Really?" You're surprised but also feel like it was the most sensible option. Except for maybe… "Why not Rossi?"

"I didn't ask."

"Right." You nod again and stare at your plate.

After a pause, he asks: "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just wish I could talk to them. Like, in person."

"You will." Aaron puts his hand on your thigh. You lean over and kiss him, tasting the sip of wine he took from your glass.

- - - - - - - - -

"Babe?" Aaron calls from upstairs.

"I'm lighting up the fireplace!"

"Be right there!"

Smiling, you push another piece of wood into the flames. Winter came faster up here than you're used to. There even is an actual winter here. Especially since your house is right on the coast, you can feel the temperature change with the hour. At noon, you often stand outside a bit to breathe in the fresh air. Or when you come back from grocery shopping, you like to climb up the lighthouse to look at the ocean before getting everything inside. Besides that, you spend your days pretty much inside the house now. Except for your walks through the forest Aaron and you take whenever you feel like it. Mostly, when you need a break from work.

Right, work.

As the wood starts crackling in the flames, you push aside the armchair and press against the part of the floor that opens up. You get out the laptop and put everything back into place.

When Aaron comes down, freshly showered, you already connected the laptop with the VPN you're supposed to use. It directly connects you with the intranet of the FBI, making it impossible to track you.

"We have a new case." You state while Aaron gets two cups of coffee and sits down next to you.

He puts his chin on your shoulder and reads the file with you. It's a weird case. Several people committed suicide. The only reason the deaths got flagged was because the coroner noticed that they all had the same poison in theirs system.

"They are months apart." You think out loud.

"The unsub is very patient."

"You think it's homicide?"

Aaron hums in agreement. Then he asks: "You'll go over the medical stuff as I cook and then we switch?" You smile and kiss him quickly: "As always."

While Aaron rummages in the kitchen, you read the medical reports. They don't really give you that much. So, you start to go over the statements of the families. Eventually, you find something the victims all have in common. You open the etherpad, so that Garcia can see what you're typing.

The vitamin treatments.

You push the laptop aside to set the table.

"Did you find something?" Aaron asks when you enter the kitchen.

"I think so."

"You're brilliant." He smiles.

"Hold your horses, Garcia didn't even reply yet."

On cue, the laptop makes a sound and Aaron winks at you.

I'd be nothing without you, mom.

You burst out laughing.

"What did she say?" Aaron calls.

"That I'm right."

He appears with two plates. As he puts them down on the table, he leans to the side to read the message as well.

"Mom? Is there something I should know about?"

Putting the laptop aside, you sit down and reply: "You very well know that we're the parents."

"Yeah, but…" He clears his throat and starts eating.

You take bite, and after complimenting the food, you lightly kick Aaron's shin.

"I might me mom to her, but mommy I'm only for you."

He chokes on his food.

"Jesus." He mumbles after drinking some water.

"What?"

"Somehow, it takes me by surprise every time when you say something like that."

"Like what?" You tease him.

His eyes are dark as he stares at you across the table: "Unapologetically obscene."

"That's obscene?" You put down your fork. "Take off your pants and I'll show you obscene."

Aaron laughs even though he knows you're not joking.

Wouldn't the food be so good, you had already gotten up. However, it seems to be part of teasing each other to keep eating all civilized. And after that, you do the dishes as Aaron reads the report as well.

Eventually, though, you're so unbearably wet, that you get almost angry.

"You done?" You ask with a stern voice. He looks up at you: "Yes."

"Good." Loudly, you close the laptop. "I'll be outside."

"Outside!?" Aaron turns in his chair as you walk past him and out the back door.

It's just past dusk and the sky is dark blue. The only light source, besides the windows of the house, is the top of the lighthouse. You unlock the metal door and climb up the stairs. Pushing the glass door open, you step outside and lean against the railing. It's cold and the wind is loud. The heat inside you, however, burns brighter with the second. Especially when you hear the metal door creak once more.

Next thing you know, Aaron is grabbing your arm to spin you around and have you look at him. His flushed neck is giving away his arousal.

"You want me to fuck you out here? Where any ship nearby could see us?"

"You asked for obscene. Here we are."

Grinning, he grabs your tits and leans into you. With a sigh, you put your arms around him. You make out for a good minute, the cold metal railing pressing against your back. Aaron's lips get wet and the kisses sloppy. When he starts to kiss down your neck while opening your belt, you know what he's going for. You stop him.

He looks up at you with puppy eyes: "I want to eat you out."

"I prefer laying down during that. You can do it later in front of the fire. Now be a good boy and fuck me."

Getting up again, he dutifully opens his belt. Pushing down your own pants, you step out of them and throw them inside. Bare from the waist down (except for your socks), you lean back and observe as Aaron scrambles to get rid of his clothes as well. When he turns around, you see that he's getting hard, but the cold obviously is a little hindering. So, without further ado, you kneel down on the stone floor, and take his dick into your mouth. The sudden temperature change causes him to tremble, forcing him to hold on to the doorframe.

Enthusiastically, you suck on his cock, stroking the lower part of his shaft you cannot get to. You have to open your mouth wide to not graze it with your teeth. Pushing your tongue flat against his dick, you bob your head, sucking the tip occasionally. You hear Aaron slap the window with his flat hand. Lifting your head for a moment, you look up at him: "You like that?"

He pleas for you not to stop.

Now grabbing his ass with both hands to keep him in place, you speed up your movements. Your eyes tear up when his dick hits the back of your throat several times. Only when it gets uncomfortable, you stand up: "My jaw starts to hurt. You cock is huge."

He lets out a low groan and pushes you further outside. Again, you lean back against the railing, spreading your legs. Visibly eager to finally be inside you, Aaron picks up the condom he left on the floor inside and rolls it over his dick.

With a tug, he pulls your hips towards him a bit so that you have to arch your back. Then, bending his knees, he positions himself at your entrance. Extending them again, he mercilessly pushes into you all the way. Your yelp gets lost in the howling of the wind.

There is just enough light for you to be able to make out each other's faces. Aaron scans yours vigilantly to make sure you're alright. Nodding, you put one hand on the back of his neck to hold yourself in position. He mirrors the gesture and grabs the back of your neck with one hand and then your right leg with the other to lift it off the ground. Holding it by the back of your thigh, he opens you up further, allowing him, now that he starts to move his hips, to plow into you forcefully.

Your head falls back, and you look up at the night sky. The sweater you're wearing shields your upper body from the salty wind that's hitting you from behind. Faintly, you are able to hear the waves crash in the background. Mostly, however, you feel and hear the smacking of Aaron's hips meeting yours.

"You feel so good." He tells you, his voice dark enough to not get swallowed by the soundscape. It takes some effort, but you manage to look at him again and concentrate on his face. His eyes fall shut several times, and his mouth open. When he finds your gaze, though, he keeps up the eye contact.

The mixture of arousal and the cold causes you to clench hard around his dick. Aaron feels it and has to adjust his thrusts to keep up the tempo. You see his jaw clench.

"Can you hold me up?"

He nods and grabs your other thigh as well. Pinning you against the railing, he fucks you even deeper than before. For a moment, it hurts but then the ecstasy takes over. Your arms hang down so that your armpits are pressed against the metal bar and help keeping your back straight. You're sure it will hurt like hell tomorrow. You don't care. You want it to hurt. You want to lift your arms tomorrow in the shower and see blue stripes under them.

"Harder." You command, knowing very well that you're pushing Aaron's physical limits here.

But he obliges and absolutely smashes you into the bars. As the air is pressed out of your lungs, your breath takes some curses with it. You try to tell Aaron that you're cumming but there just isn't any energy in you to say it. Your entire body tenses before it feels like every single one of your cells is exploding.

You hear and feel Aaron cumming shortly after as he sinks to his knees, not able to hold you up any longer. His dick not inside you anymore, you follow him down, collapsing on his lap. Breathing heavily, he holds you close to his chest. Your legs twitch and you shiver. Your mind is clouded but you manage to get up and help Aaron get inside the lighthouse as well. With the little strength you have left, you close the glass door, shutting out the wind that noticeably got even more forceful.

You bought a large rug and an armchair to sit in for when you want to be up here and look at the ocean, and even all the way to Nova Scotia when the weather allows it.

"Why…" Aaron is still breathing heavily. You lay down on the soft rug next to him. All of a sudden, it's really hot and you take off your remaining clothes. "Why on earth didn't we have sex on this?" He runs his hand over the carpet until he finds yours.

You squeeze it: "It – how did you put it? – wouldn't have been obscene enough."

He chuckles and rolls onto his side: "The things you make me do."

You turn to him: "Make you do?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I mean I would have never imagined having sex like that before I met you."

You let out a content hum and run your hand through his hair. Aaron inhales sharply.

"What?" You look at him worried.

"Your rips, and- oh my god your arms."

You look at them. There are already forming bruises. It makes you smile.

"I like it." You state. Aaron shakes his head in disbelieve and presses a kiss to your mouth.

Eventually, he proposes: "I think we should take a really long bath."

- - - - - - - - -

The hot water colors your skin red in mere seconds. But then your muscles start to relax, and you don't care anymore. Aaron sits down behind you, causing water to splash over the edge of the tub and onto the tiled floor.

Leaning back against his chest, you stretch your aching legs and close your eyes. Your entire body is sore and will be for probably a few days.

"How are you feeling?" You ask Aaron who is playing with your wet hair.

"Exhausted. But really, really satisfied."

"Good." You mumble and hug the arm he put around you.

The sound of his heartbeat, the warmth of the bath and Aaron's body lulls you into a transcendent state of mind. The water splashes now and then when you or Aaron move, but besides that it's peacefully quiet. The wind that's still howling outside is comfortably shut out by the thick walls of the house.

"I could spend the rest of my life here." You whisper, barely awake.

It makes Aaron tighten his grip around you, pulling you onto him a little more. Then he kisses the top of your head and tells you how much he loves you. With a smile on your face, you lie still until the water gets cold.

Eyes glazed, you dry yourself off before Aaron gets the hairdryer and helps you with your hair. Then you dry his before shuffling to the bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand allowing you to see where you're going, you put on a shirt and some panties before burying yourself in the sheets.

"Are you happy?" Aaron suddenly asks besides you.

Surprised, you look at him and reply: "Of course."

"But like…the rest of the time? When you have to spend your days in this house? Not being able to see anyone besides me, only when you're at the supermarket, or…" He stops talking.

"Are you happy?" You ask him in return.

He sighs: "I am whenever I'm with you. Even though the situation is not ideal, and I miss the team and work just as much as you do…I think what we have is really good. I feel lucky more than anything else."

A smile spreads on your face: "I feel just the same."

"Okay." He nods, eyebrows furrowed nevertheless.

You lean over and kiss his forehead to make the frown disappear.

"Since we obviously don't know how long it will be like this, do you want to get married anyways? I mean, like, here? I know, it won't be under our real names and…" You sigh, feeling stupid all of a sudden now that you think about it. You couldn't even invite anyone…

"Yes." Aaron answers.

"Really?" Your voice shoots up.

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, quietly telling you with his rough voice: "I already said yes to your proposal twice now. When will you believe me?"

"Fair enough." You huddle against him. "Should we plan it tomorrow?"

"I'd love to."

- - - - - - - - -

"Already up and running!" The postman calls from the road.

You walk over to greet him.

"I've got a package for Thomas Gibson."

Cleaning your hands that are covered in dirt since you just were planting bushes in the front yard, using your dungarees, you smile at him. He's nice. He always comes out here first on his tour ever since you let him walk up the lighthouse and drank a beer up there with him. He treats you like you're just the new couple that moved here after they had enough of the big city, but there is something in his eyes. It's like he's winking at you without actually winking at you. Like he's telling you 'I know there is something else going on here, but I've seen enough movies about retired agents to leave you alone'. It's amusing. Especially because he's wrong.

You're not retired.

Aaron comes over and signs for the package and takes it. After a minute of small talk about how his wife is currently working on their garden as well, the postman lets you be.

Inside, you wash your hands under hot water. The earth is still cold. In the meantime, Aaron gets a knife to open the package. The label is handwritten, and you recognize the style. Especially the pink ink that was used to draw a heart instead of a dot in the i of the last name.

When you open it, there is more pink in form of paper covering what's inside. Carefully, Aaron gets out a pin with fake flowers stitched to it as well as a matching bracelet. They both look beautiful. You turn it in your hands.

A small card came with it: We'll be with you on your special day.

You put your arm around Aaron and reread the card several times. It's just one sentence but it holds so much meaning for you. For Aaron as well because you see him blink away tears. Being away from the team has been hard on him. Probably even more than it has been on you. After all, he's been with them for what must feel like half his life.

Leaning up, you kiss his cheek and tell him: "It matches what I got you for our engagement."

"I know." His voice is brittle.

You pull him into a hug. Quietly, you just stand there until you both feel like you can stand on your own again.

"Don't get me wrong-" he explains, "I cannot wait for Saturday. But I still wish…"

"I understand." You nod. "Me too."

Saturday. It came quicker than you expected it too. Suddenly, you have to be done with your make-up in ten minutes as the car is already outside.

Aaron is waiting for you downstairs, most likely pacing up and down in the hallway. It will be only the two of you and someone at the city hall to make it official. You're wearing your favorite suit, so is he.

When you're satisfied with how you look, you take one last deep breath before walking down the stairs. As you suspected, Aaron is walking more or less in circles to pass the time. When he sees you, he abruptly halts in his steps.

"You look hot." You tell him the same moment he says: "You look stunning."

With a bright smile, you offer him your hand. Walking closely together, you make your way outside to have the driver of the black car open the door for you. His posture is familiar. He looks trained. Like- "I think he's FBI." You whisper into Aaron's ear.

"Look at you, medical profiler." He teases.

"You noticed way earlier, didn't you?"

"The moment he got out the car."

"Show-off."

"Even on our wedding day you have to have the last word?"

"What? Do you not want me to answer when I get asked the big question?"

Instead of replying, he pinches your thigh, causing you to squeal.

Amused, the driver (agent) starts the car and drives off.

Not letting go of each other, you either hold hands or intertwine your arms all the way to city hall.

When you walk up the stairs, you tell Aaron: "I'm really nervous."

"That's the first time I ever heard you say that."

"Then you know how serious I am."

He kisses the back of your hand and says the only thing necessary to calm you down: "I love you."

"I love you too."

With a sparkle in his eyes, he holds the door open for you. You must say, now that you are really doing this, you start to feel yourself. You know that the suit you're wearing looks great. And soon, you get to wear an even greater ring; one you and Aaron picked out together. He gets one too, of course. And you insisted that they both look the same. Polished gold on the outside, engraved on the inside. It reads into my arms, like the song you both love so much.

The next thirty minutes rush by. The most important moment, though, happens in slow motion. Your eyes glued to his lips, you see them form the word yes. With shaking hands, you push the ring onto Aaron's finger. Yours already in place. You give him barely any time to look at it before you put your hand on the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

His arms are instantly around you. When you have to take a breath, you bury your face in the crook of his neck and whisper into his ear that you love him, again and again.

When he kisses you again, you feel your cheeks getting wet by the tears you're crying. However, as you lean back to look at your husband, you see that it weren't only your tears. Aaron is crying as well. You put your hands on his face and wipe the tears away with your thumbs. He does the same with yours.

Only then, you remember that there are other people around as well. Patiently, they are waiting for you to sign the necessary papers. After you did, which you, again, barely process, you look at each other.

"I cannot believe we made it." Aaron states.

Unconsciously, you touch the scar on the side of your neck.

"We really are lucky, aren't we?"

He nods, his hand, just for a second, lingering on the part of his abdomen where he got stabbed. And those are just the visible scars.

Aaron takes your hands and kisses the knuckles. Then he holds his hand with the ring on it out next to yours. Just as a sidenote: his hands are unbelievably large, and you know what he can do with them. More important right now, however, is how perfect the rings look.

"Should we leave for the restaurant?" You ask.

"I can't wait to say that my wife made a reservation." Aaron tells you with the brightest smile.

"I can't wait to hear that."

Arm in arm, you walk towards the exit. This went by unbelievably fast. However, even though it's an important moment, what this actually is about is what lies ahead of you. Your future. Your future with Aaron Hotchner.

- - - - - - - - -

Lost in your thoughts, caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, neither you nor your husband realize who is standing at the foot of the stairs. Only when you're halfway down the steps in front of the city hall, you notice them. You stop walking. Tugging on Aarons arm.

"What the-"

Then you basically sprint down the rest of the stairs. Yelling and laughing Spencer, Emily, JJ, Derek, Penelope, and David greet you. Spencer is the one to catch you on the last step. He even sweeps you off your feet and turns around with his arms around your back. You're almost as surprised that the cute pipe cleaner manages to pull that off as you are to see him.

"Congratulation." He whispers into your ear.

"Thank you." You smile widely. Then the others take turns pulling you into hugs, kissing your cheek, and congratulating you.

At some point, you started crying again. You're not sure if it was Aaron taking your hand while talking to Rossi, or Penelope telling you how much she loves you, or when Emily broke the news that they arrested Foyet last week.

"Last week?" Aaron raises his eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"It would have ruined the surprise, wouldn't it?" Morgan grins.

"I missed you guys so much." You tell them, voice cracking at least once.

It causes everyone to get closer together one more time and put the arms around each other.

Aaron at your side, you hug your team, your family, finally feeling whole again.

END OF THE STORY