Visitors [FanFic]
Title: Visitors
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/OFC
Rating: FRM
Summary: So often people ask me about him because they want a good story to tell their friends or put in their paper or because they think talking to me is some…link to the legacy of The Boston Reaper.
Notes: This is a follow-up to Reading. Takes place during Season 5's "Reckoner"...the title is Chapter 6 of Thoreau's Walden and I kept the same summary cause it works overall. Not sure what to make of it all still, but I like what I have and hope to keep going, haha! :D (And thanks to pink_siamese for all the help & encouragement! ^_^)
Aaron sat in the hotel room not thinking about the case he was on of the reckoner, but instead the one of The Reaper. About how a survivor didn’t make sense and, if he’d realized that sooner, maybe all this pain and regret could have been avoided…prevented. Then that nagging existence of Julie Byrne threw him off. She was a spare piece of the puzzle and, no matter how many times Aaron turned her over in his head, she didn’t make sense.
She didn’t shudder at his mention; she called him George and sighed as she did it. Had she loved him, was that what kept her safe? No, that couldn’t be it…Amanda Bertram had loved George and he killed her, stabbed her to death, before playing victim to get his “in” on the case. Had it been a sense of pity? Did Julie only see an abused boy when they were in high school and pity him? Foyet didn’t seem the type to tolerate pity for very long and she’d told him, Aaron, to kill the man if he ever got the chance. …No, it couldn’t have been pity.
So what was it?
He reached over the case files and crime scene photos he wasn’t looking at to take possession of his phone. Aaron had entered her contact information into his phone shortly after they met. He scrolled to her name and debated.
Aaron hit the number of her cell phone.
He waited, listened carefully as the other line rang. On the third ring he cursed the idea and pulled the phone from his ear.
The fourth ring stopped halfway. “’Ello?”
“Hello,” Aaron replied as he set the phone back to his ear. “Ms, uh…Ms Byrne? Um, I mean…Julie? It’s Aaron…Hotchner…from -“
A smile entered her breath. “I remember you, Aaron.” The smile left. “Is he dead?”
Aaron frowned. “No.”
“Is everything alright?” It was pretty late. Julie hadn’t even planned on picking up the phone, but something drove her to.
“I was just…thinking.”
“About?”
“Things. You. Foyet.”
“Did you have more questions for me?”
Aaron went silent as he thought how to respond without offending. Julie didn’t have to speak to him, she hadn’t had to answer the phone or stay on the line or offer to help, but she’d done all those things. He didn’t want to sound insensitive or unappreciative.
“Aaron? Are you there?”
“I’m sitting in my hotel in Long Island and I should be focusing on the case, I should be finding this new killer, but I can’t concentrate. I can’t concentrate because the room number is 305 and all I can think is 35, the approximate number of victims Foyet has to his name.”
“You’re in Long Island?”
“Econo Lodge in Hicksville, technically, but yes.” Hotch threw out before refocusing on his rant. “So I’m thinking about the 35 victims and then I’m realizing it should be 36. He leaves no survivors, especially with those close to him. His parents, his girlfriends, Roy Colson if we hadn’t interceded. There are no exceptions, Julie.”
“No?”
“No. So you…you don’t make sense.” He cringed at his own words, then more at the soft chuckle that came over the phone in response.
Julie moved to sit up fully. “You call up a girl up at ten at night to tell her she doesn’t make sense?”
“Within the profile…Foyet’s profile.”
“I don’t make sense.”
“No, I…look, it’s late, I’m sorry I woke you.” Aaron backpedaled.
“You didn’t.”
“Still, I’ve kept you up. I…I am keeping you up.” He insisted wishing he’d never called to begin with. “I’m sorry, Ms Byrne. Goodbye.” He hung up without waiting for reply.
Julie listened to the dial tone before she closed the cell phone. She sat up a moment longer and then decided. “Well fuck that.” She tossed her book aside and got up to redress.
***
It was ten o’clock at night, she had work in the morning, by the time she got there it’d be after two… The more reasons Julie listed the more throttle she gave. …By the time she got there he could be asleep, he could be back on the case, he could have a roommate.
She should get off at the next exit and go home now.
Julie continued from I-90 to I-95 as she began to consider what she’d do if Aaron wasn’t there or, worse yet, had no interest in seeing her. What if he thought she was insane? What if she knocked and his first thought at seeing her was “Now I get why George spared you”?
She slowed as she entered New Jersey and parked her bike under a light when she arrived at the hotel. She took her helmet in with her and bypassed the front desk without issue as she found the nearest public bathroom to slip in.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked herself in the mirror as she ran fingers under her eyes to collect the dirt from four hours of speeding on highways. Her fingers went through her hair next, working through knots and separating windblown hair to something more attractive. “Okay…” Julie sighed out. “You don’t need to look great, you just need to look like you haven’t completely lost your mind, which you have.” Another deep breath in and out and she went in search of room 305.
***
By the time Aaron had thrown his shirt on and reached the door the knocking had stopped, but he could see an oddly familiar female form leaving through the peephole so opened the door. Slowly, gun hidden at his side, he poked his head out. “Julie?”
Julie turned on her heel with an unsure smile. “Hey.”
“What, uh…what are you…doing?”
“Probably proving I don’t make sense,” she attempted to joke.
Aaron’s lips ghosted a smile before he grew more serious. “Are you all right? I didn’t…upset or offend you, did I?”
“No.” Julie moved towards the door. “Did you read Walden?”
“You came all the way here to ask if I read Walden?”
“Well did you?”
“Yes.” This time Aaron’s smile stayed.
“Did you like it?”
“Very much, thank you.” The two stayed where they were a moment before Aaron straightened up and remembered his manners. “Did…Would you care to come in, Ms Byrne?”
“Only if you call me Julie.”
“Julie.”
She smiled as she slipped inside. The room was standard low-end motel in style: particleboard furniture, decade old TV, retro-floral bedspread, stained carpet, and small unimpressive paintings of beaches with birds flying over the water for decoration. She turned back to Aaron as he relocked and bolted the door. Her eyes keyed in on the gun in his hand.
Aaron followed her line of sight and quickly went to put it away. “Sorry, I just…” didn’t know who was at the door.
“It’s fine, Aaron. I know I surprised you,” Julie smiled a touch as she set her helmet on the tiny desk and jacket on the accompanying chair. She caught a glimpse of his files spread over the table, but focused on him. “Now…tell me again why I don’t make sense. Maybe I can help.”
“I’m sorry that…” Aaron sighed as he relocked the hotel safe and closed the closet door. “Um…” he turned and saw Julie relaxing against the dresser with the built-in TV. “That didn’t come out how I intended.”
Julie ignored the apology; it was unnecessary. “By your accounts, according George’s profile or whatever, I should be dead. Right?”
“Well, essentially, yes.”
“But I’m not.”
“Clearly.”
“And that troubles you.”
Aaron cleared his throat as he headed over to her. She carried herself just as strongly as she did the last time, but her clothing was more clearly feminine now. White V-neck shirt under a navy cardigan and figure hugging jeans tucked into black boots…How the hell did she get into those jeans? How did she get out of them?
He took a turn toward the bed to sit. “In examining a profile, often times, it’s what doesn’t fit that ends up being the key.” Oft repeated words from Gideon back to haunt him.
“I told you before he didn’t kill me because he didn’t get the chance, Aaron.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“You think it’s me, specifically.” It wasn’t a question as Julie approached the bed.
Was this how she approached everyone? Was it how she’d approached Foyet in their youth? With utter boldness and no attempt at playing demure. Had Foyet liked it? Did he like it like Aaron liked it now…in that small rushed thrill that a ghoul popping out in a haunted-house gave?
“I believe so.”
“You think I have answers.”
“Yes.”
“I knew George as a boy, not a man.” Julie stopped a foot from him; not close enough to be intimate, not far enough to be casual. “Now I can tell you about George as a boy, Aaron, but I need to know something first.”
“Which is?”
“Is this about finding peace or finding answers?” She didn’t look away even as Aaron challenged her with a glare. “Because I’m not sure I can give you both.”
“Understanding the boy may help me find the man.”
“Okay then.” Julie nodded as her tongue slipped out to lick her top lip before it was caught between her teeth a moment. “When the girls compared the boys in the school to famous actors George consistently got James Spader and it wasn’t just because of the hair. He wore Lacoste polo shirts, pressed khakis, and Ray Bans. He was bold and arrogant and acted like he didn’t have a care in the world. Just like all the other New England preppies that went to our school.”
Aaron’s brows knitted in displeasure. “And you?”
“I was the academy’s charity case and everyone knew it. I got in on scholarships, wore JC Penny clothes, and couldn’t, for the life of me, hide my Dorchester accent.”
“You were easy to manipulate,” Aaron decided. “He knew you’d be so grateful to be accepted, to be dating a wealthy and popular student, you wouldn’t ever turn on him.” That made sense, it fit the profile; it gave Hotch some peace.
Julie’s eyes rolled as he simply latched on to an answer that suited him. “George didn’t seek me out, Aaron.”
“What?” He took it like a hit and sighed in the realization. “You asked him out?” Aaron looked up, hurt. “Why?”
She sighed as she went to sit beside him. “We were partnered in biology and I wanted to go to a movie, some slasher flick that none of my girlfriends wanted to see, so I asked him.”
“And you knew he’d say yes.”
“I knew the odds were in my favor,” Julie confessed. She turned to look at him. “George wasn’t the oddity then, Aaron. I was.”
There was something about her gaze; it was soft and sympathetic, defiant and strong. Aaron had trouble holding it, but he couldn’t look away either. The flecks of brown and green pulled him in by something he couldn’t identify. They drew him closer until he could feel the heat of her body mix with his. He liked it too much. “It’s late.”
“I could go.”
“You shouldn’t drive. It’s late.”
“Then what, Aaron?”
“Stay the night.”
Julie’s lips curled into a smile that let out a soft laugh. “Nothing appropriate about that request, Agent Hotchner.”
“I…what?” Aaron leaned back some as he tried to understand what had just happened, what had actually come out of his mouth. “I…wait, uh…no, I didn’t mean…I just…” He sighed. “Drowsy driving is dangerous.”
“And you think I’m drowsy?”
“You can have the room, I’ll just go ask one of my team to put me up for the night.”
“Really? And how will you explain your need for new sleeping arrangements?” When he didn’t give an answer Julie smirked out a challenge. “I can share if you can.”
“Share?”
“The room.”
“I…Julie, I…”
“You want me to stay off the road and this isn’t a pay-by-the-hour type hotel.”
Aaron nodded as he stood up. “Very well, you can have the bed.” He spoke formally, his tone stern, his words as professional and commanding as if he were on a case.
“No.”
“No?” Hotch turned to look down at her, glared slightly at being defied.
Julie just smiled back as she worked her boots off. “I’m not putting you out of your bed, Aaron. We’re adults, we’ll share the bed.”
“Share?”
“Yes, share. You have learned how to share, haven’t you?”
Aaron smiled a touch. “Well, yes, but…”
Julie stood and began to slowly maneuver, swivel her shoulders, out of her cardigan. “But nothing. I’ll keep my pants and shirt on, you can stay in what you’re in, and we’ll each take a side. Just like an old-school sleepover.” She let the sweater run off her arms to the floor and kicked her boots aside. “If you need to stay up and work that’s fine, I’ve slept with lights on before.”
“Do you do this a lot?”
“What?”
“Have…sleepovers with men you barely know.”
“Nope.”
Aaron lips curled. “But you’re going to with me?”
“You’re special,” Julie replied as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. It was rough, developing a 3AM shadow, but the skin under was smooth and muscle-strong. She stepped away and headed to pull down the comforter and sheets. “I trust you.”
“Should I trust you?” Aaron teased with a fast-reddening face.
Julie laughed. “You want me to put an extra pillow between us so we don’t catch each other’s cooties?”
“Maybe.”
***
They’d started off on opposite sides of the bed, lying back to back, but now she was half under him. He held onto her like a security blanket.
Julie felt his breath come hot over the back of her neck in faint murmurs. Aaron spoke of his team and revenge and murder. He shifted and she felt the roughness of healing chest wounds against her back.
A man you loved did that to him.
“I’m sorry, Aaron,” she whispered.
He muttered in his sleep.
Julie needed to see his face, needed to say the words to his face even if Aaron slept through it. She shifted under him, turned onto her back.
“Aaron.”
He exhaled a moan into her mouth.
She watched his eyes flit under closed lids, noted the slackness in his jaw that led to a partially opened mouth. Aaron looked both more at peace and distressed than she’d ever seen him awake. She reached out and gently felt ribbed flesh beneath his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
Aaron’s eyes blinked open. He looked at her. He bowed his head to kiss her, but pulled back at the last second.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I want you to.”
His breath caught in her words. He kissed her and she welcomed it, even when it fell into desperation. Her tongue coaxed his out of hiding and she moaned. He moaned with her. The kiss caught fire and he held her fast by the hair.
He needed this. He needed her. To feel her and taste her and have her.
His tasted the circumference of her mouth before he moved to her jaw as his hand worked under her shirt. She was muscular; she could fight him if she didn’t want this.
Julie felt the scars as she pushed up his shirt, remembering how fascinated George had been with her appendix scar, how he’d lick its length and tickle her. Aaron didn’t laugh; he tensed before letting all the worry out in a moan against her neck. There was no hesitation in Julie’s touch, no pause at the new horrors carved into his body. Her touch was as light as his was rough. There was no fear in her, only an acceptance as her lips pressed against his shoulder. Aaron bit her breast and Julie gasped. She slipped hands between them to work loose his pants
“I want you to,” she said.
He felt her fingers brush the underside of his cock. In a grunt Aaron gave a thrust against her hand. “Fuck…”
Julie watched him, lifting her hips so he could strip her off her jeans. Once they were gone she sat up and pushed down his pants.
“Roll over,” Aaron growled.
She obeyed and relaxed as his hands examined the plains of her back. The calluses on his fingers rode down her spine, reminded her of sirens after a late-night shooting. The connection made her groan. His palms were smoother than the bar-backs in Uphams Corner and Southie and his touch more respectful. A hand stopped at the curve of her ass. She shivered when his lips pressed open at the center of her shoulder blades.
Aaron kissed her cheek. “May I have you like this?”
“I want you to.”
Aaron’s panting gave way to a heated groan. His hand slipped into her panties, between cheeks and thighs that lifted for Aaron’s hand. His fingers slipped between wet lips. Julie gave a cry as a finger brushed her clit. She shifted. Her hand joined his and they caught floods together.
“Aaron…gawd…Aar-on.” Julie’s words broke down with her thoughts.
She felt the edge, the precipice, as it rushed at her. Her muscles prepared for the leap. He peeled away her panties and she spread shaking knees for him.
“I want -“
Aaron forced the rest out in single thrust. Julie’s palm hit the wall and her fingers curled. Her cunt fluttered and clamped at the sudden, harsh, entry. Her lips panted out her smile. She heard, saw, the car fire from her youth, those bright dancing flames and that earth-shaking explosion when flames reached the gas tank. She was inside it as the orgasm shook her.
He lowered his head, tasted the salt of her skin. One hand cupped her bare breast. Her heart pounded against his fingers.
He needed her close, he needed her to be part of him…to be his. She’d been Foyet’s, The Reaper’s, once. But tonight she’d be his. He’d make her his as much and for as long as he could.
He stopped, leaned down, whispered. “I want you to see.”
Julie thought of all she’d see, all he’d want her to see. The scars, the pain, the hate…all that darkness she could keep for him like she had her family and friends and George. She’d see it, accept it, and tuck it away in her mind’s dark chamber that was kept for all those close.
He pulled out, reentered as soon as she was on her back. He teased, slipped in an inch or two, did it slow, pulled back. Aaron slid in a little more.
She gripped the back of his neck and hair. “Aaron…come…” she breathed. “Come inside me.”
The words made him shudder and swell from the inside out. He discharged the last of his self-control in a long, low, groan.
He moaned her name. Julie smiled. She began to massage his scalp, to play with the tips of his hair.
***
JJ’s wake up call to the team pulled them out of bed and into reality.
“I’ll be ready in ten…” Aaron paused to look over at Julie. “Fifteen minutes.” He hung up.
“Don’t take any longer on my account.” Julie smiled as she slipped on her panties.
“We should talk.”
“About?”
Aaron threw on a new pair of pants. “Last night.”
“Uh-uh,” Julie shook her head. “All talking’s going to do is ruin it, Aaron. Just let it be what it was.”
“Which was?”
“An amazing night between two people who needed one.”
“And that’s it?”
She saw Aaron’s expression; a mask with hurt in the eyes. “Aaron, you…you have your family, your job and…” she shrugged out a smile. “You really wanna start something serious up with the ex of the man you’re hunting while you’re balancing everything else? Do you honestly think you even could?”
He gave no response.
“If you need me answer questions or keep you company or just talk then you can contact me.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all we have, Aaron.” Julie pulled her shirt down as she headed towards him. “There’s nothing wrong with that, you know.”
“I suppose not.”
“You don’t seem convinced.”
Aaron wasn’t. Years of conservative raising and marrying the first girl who slept with him set a very specific idea of what sex meant. It meant, at least, the attempts at a relationship. “I can call you?”
“Anytime. You know how to find me.”
The phone in Aaron’s hand vibrated and he muttered a curse as he answered. “JJ, I…”
Julie smiled, her point made. By the time Hotch hung up she was fully dressed and throwing on her jacket. “Is it easier if you or I leave first?”
“Probably you.”
“Okay then.” She grabbed her helmet and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, Aaron.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care.”
“I will. And…you too.”
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, / But I have promises to keep..." ~ Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Next Chapter:
Brute Neighbors
Previous Chapter:
Reading
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/OFC
Rating: FRM
Summary: So often people ask me about him because they want a good story to tell their friends or put in their paper or because they think talking to me is some…link to the legacy of The Boston Reaper.
Notes: This is a follow-up to Reading. Takes place during Season 5's "Reckoner"...the title is Chapter 6 of Thoreau's Walden and I kept the same summary cause it works overall. Not sure what to make of it all still, but I like what I have and hope to keep going, haha! :D (And thanks to pink_siamese for all the help & encouragement! ^_^)
Aaron sat in the hotel room not thinking about the case he was on of the reckoner, but instead the one of The Reaper. About how a survivor didn’t make sense and, if he’d realized that sooner, maybe all this pain and regret could have been avoided…prevented. Then that nagging existence of Julie Byrne threw him off. She was a spare piece of the puzzle and, no matter how many times Aaron turned her over in his head, she didn’t make sense.
She didn’t shudder at his mention; she called him George and sighed as she did it. Had she loved him, was that what kept her safe? No, that couldn’t be it…Amanda Bertram had loved George and he killed her, stabbed her to death, before playing victim to get his “in” on the case. Had it been a sense of pity? Did Julie only see an abused boy when they were in high school and pity him? Foyet didn’t seem the type to tolerate pity for very long and she’d told him, Aaron, to kill the man if he ever got the chance. …No, it couldn’t have been pity.
So what was it?
He reached over the case files and crime scene photos he wasn’t looking at to take possession of his phone. Aaron had entered her contact information into his phone shortly after they met. He scrolled to her name and debated.
Aaron hit the number of her cell phone.
He waited, listened carefully as the other line rang. On the third ring he cursed the idea and pulled the phone from his ear.
The fourth ring stopped halfway. “’Ello?”
“Hello,” Aaron replied as he set the phone back to his ear. “Ms, uh…Ms Byrne? Um, I mean…Julie? It’s Aaron…Hotchner…from -“
A smile entered her breath. “I remember you, Aaron.” The smile left. “Is he dead?”
Aaron frowned. “No.”
“Is everything alright?” It was pretty late. Julie hadn’t even planned on picking up the phone, but something drove her to.
“I was just…thinking.”
“About?”
“Things. You. Foyet.”
“Did you have more questions for me?”
Aaron went silent as he thought how to respond without offending. Julie didn’t have to speak to him, she hadn’t had to answer the phone or stay on the line or offer to help, but she’d done all those things. He didn’t want to sound insensitive or unappreciative.
“Aaron? Are you there?”
“I’m sitting in my hotel in Long Island and I should be focusing on the case, I should be finding this new killer, but I can’t concentrate. I can’t concentrate because the room number is 305 and all I can think is 35, the approximate number of victims Foyet has to his name.”
“You’re in Long Island?”
“Econo Lodge in Hicksville, technically, but yes.” Hotch threw out before refocusing on his rant. “So I’m thinking about the 35 victims and then I’m realizing it should be 36. He leaves no survivors, especially with those close to him. His parents, his girlfriends, Roy Colson if we hadn’t interceded. There are no exceptions, Julie.”
“No?”
“No. So you…you don’t make sense.” He cringed at his own words, then more at the soft chuckle that came over the phone in response.
Julie moved to sit up fully. “You call up a girl up at ten at night to tell her she doesn’t make sense?”
“Within the profile…Foyet’s profile.”
“I don’t make sense.”
“No, I…look, it’s late, I’m sorry I woke you.” Aaron backpedaled.
“You didn’t.”
“Still, I’ve kept you up. I…I am keeping you up.” He insisted wishing he’d never called to begin with. “I’m sorry, Ms Byrne. Goodbye.” He hung up without waiting for reply.
Julie listened to the dial tone before she closed the cell phone. She sat up a moment longer and then decided. “Well fuck that.” She tossed her book aside and got up to redress.
***
It was ten o’clock at night, she had work in the morning, by the time she got there it’d be after two… The more reasons Julie listed the more throttle she gave. …By the time she got there he could be asleep, he could be back on the case, he could have a roommate.
She should get off at the next exit and go home now.
Julie continued from I-90 to I-95 as she began to consider what she’d do if Aaron wasn’t there or, worse yet, had no interest in seeing her. What if he thought she was insane? What if she knocked and his first thought at seeing her was “Now I get why George spared you”?
She slowed as she entered New Jersey and parked her bike under a light when she arrived at the hotel. She took her helmet in with her and bypassed the front desk without issue as she found the nearest public bathroom to slip in.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked herself in the mirror as she ran fingers under her eyes to collect the dirt from four hours of speeding on highways. Her fingers went through her hair next, working through knots and separating windblown hair to something more attractive. “Okay…” Julie sighed out. “You don’t need to look great, you just need to look like you haven’t completely lost your mind, which you have.” Another deep breath in and out and she went in search of room 305.
***
By the time Aaron had thrown his shirt on and reached the door the knocking had stopped, but he could see an oddly familiar female form leaving through the peephole so opened the door. Slowly, gun hidden at his side, he poked his head out. “Julie?”
Julie turned on her heel with an unsure smile. “Hey.”
“What, uh…what are you…doing?”
“Probably proving I don’t make sense,” she attempted to joke.
Aaron’s lips ghosted a smile before he grew more serious. “Are you all right? I didn’t…upset or offend you, did I?”
“No.” Julie moved towards the door. “Did you read Walden?”
“You came all the way here to ask if I read Walden?”
“Well did you?”
“Yes.” This time Aaron’s smile stayed.
“Did you like it?”
“Very much, thank you.” The two stayed where they were a moment before Aaron straightened up and remembered his manners. “Did…Would you care to come in, Ms Byrne?”
“Only if you call me Julie.”
“Julie.”
She smiled as she slipped inside. The room was standard low-end motel in style: particleboard furniture, decade old TV, retro-floral bedspread, stained carpet, and small unimpressive paintings of beaches with birds flying over the water for decoration. She turned back to Aaron as he relocked and bolted the door. Her eyes keyed in on the gun in his hand.
Aaron followed her line of sight and quickly went to put it away. “Sorry, I just…” didn’t know who was at the door.
“It’s fine, Aaron. I know I surprised you,” Julie smiled a touch as she set her helmet on the tiny desk and jacket on the accompanying chair. She caught a glimpse of his files spread over the table, but focused on him. “Now…tell me again why I don’t make sense. Maybe I can help.”
“I’m sorry that…” Aaron sighed as he relocked the hotel safe and closed the closet door. “Um…” he turned and saw Julie relaxing against the dresser with the built-in TV. “That didn’t come out how I intended.”
Julie ignored the apology; it was unnecessary. “By your accounts, according George’s profile or whatever, I should be dead. Right?”
“Well, essentially, yes.”
“But I’m not.”
“Clearly.”
“And that troubles you.”
Aaron cleared his throat as he headed over to her. She carried herself just as strongly as she did the last time, but her clothing was more clearly feminine now. White V-neck shirt under a navy cardigan and figure hugging jeans tucked into black boots…How the hell did she get into those jeans? How did she get out of them?
He took a turn toward the bed to sit. “In examining a profile, often times, it’s what doesn’t fit that ends up being the key.” Oft repeated words from Gideon back to haunt him.
“I told you before he didn’t kill me because he didn’t get the chance, Aaron.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“You think it’s me, specifically.” It wasn’t a question as Julie approached the bed.
Was this how she approached everyone? Was it how she’d approached Foyet in their youth? With utter boldness and no attempt at playing demure. Had Foyet liked it? Did he like it like Aaron liked it now…in that small rushed thrill that a ghoul popping out in a haunted-house gave?
“I believe so.”
“You think I have answers.”
“Yes.”
“I knew George as a boy, not a man.” Julie stopped a foot from him; not close enough to be intimate, not far enough to be casual. “Now I can tell you about George as a boy, Aaron, but I need to know something first.”
“Which is?”
“Is this about finding peace or finding answers?” She didn’t look away even as Aaron challenged her with a glare. “Because I’m not sure I can give you both.”
“Understanding the boy may help me find the man.”
“Okay then.” Julie nodded as her tongue slipped out to lick her top lip before it was caught between her teeth a moment. “When the girls compared the boys in the school to famous actors George consistently got James Spader and it wasn’t just because of the hair. He wore Lacoste polo shirts, pressed khakis, and Ray Bans. He was bold and arrogant and acted like he didn’t have a care in the world. Just like all the other New England preppies that went to our school.”
Aaron’s brows knitted in displeasure. “And you?”
“I was the academy’s charity case and everyone knew it. I got in on scholarships, wore JC Penny clothes, and couldn’t, for the life of me, hide my Dorchester accent.”
“You were easy to manipulate,” Aaron decided. “He knew you’d be so grateful to be accepted, to be dating a wealthy and popular student, you wouldn’t ever turn on him.” That made sense, it fit the profile; it gave Hotch some peace.
Julie’s eyes rolled as he simply latched on to an answer that suited him. “George didn’t seek me out, Aaron.”
“What?” He took it like a hit and sighed in the realization. “You asked him out?” Aaron looked up, hurt. “Why?”
She sighed as she went to sit beside him. “We were partnered in biology and I wanted to go to a movie, some slasher flick that none of my girlfriends wanted to see, so I asked him.”
“And you knew he’d say yes.”
“I knew the odds were in my favor,” Julie confessed. She turned to look at him. “George wasn’t the oddity then, Aaron. I was.”
There was something about her gaze; it was soft and sympathetic, defiant and strong. Aaron had trouble holding it, but he couldn’t look away either. The flecks of brown and green pulled him in by something he couldn’t identify. They drew him closer until he could feel the heat of her body mix with his. He liked it too much. “It’s late.”
“I could go.”
“You shouldn’t drive. It’s late.”
“Then what, Aaron?”
“Stay the night.”
Julie’s lips curled into a smile that let out a soft laugh. “Nothing appropriate about that request, Agent Hotchner.”
“I…what?” Aaron leaned back some as he tried to understand what had just happened, what had actually come out of his mouth. “I…wait, uh…no, I didn’t mean…I just…” He sighed. “Drowsy driving is dangerous.”
“And you think I’m drowsy?”
“You can have the room, I’ll just go ask one of my team to put me up for the night.”
“Really? And how will you explain your need for new sleeping arrangements?” When he didn’t give an answer Julie smirked out a challenge. “I can share if you can.”
“Share?”
“The room.”
“I…Julie, I…”
“You want me to stay off the road and this isn’t a pay-by-the-hour type hotel.”
Aaron nodded as he stood up. “Very well, you can have the bed.” He spoke formally, his tone stern, his words as professional and commanding as if he were on a case.
“No.”
“No?” Hotch turned to look down at her, glared slightly at being defied.
Julie just smiled back as she worked her boots off. “I’m not putting you out of your bed, Aaron. We’re adults, we’ll share the bed.”
“Share?”
“Yes, share. You have learned how to share, haven’t you?”
Aaron smiled a touch. “Well, yes, but…”
Julie stood and began to slowly maneuver, swivel her shoulders, out of her cardigan. “But nothing. I’ll keep my pants and shirt on, you can stay in what you’re in, and we’ll each take a side. Just like an old-school sleepover.” She let the sweater run off her arms to the floor and kicked her boots aside. “If you need to stay up and work that’s fine, I’ve slept with lights on before.”
“Do you do this a lot?”
“What?”
“Have…sleepovers with men you barely know.”
“Nope.”
Aaron lips curled. “But you’re going to with me?”
“You’re special,” Julie replied as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. It was rough, developing a 3AM shadow, but the skin under was smooth and muscle-strong. She stepped away and headed to pull down the comforter and sheets. “I trust you.”
“Should I trust you?” Aaron teased with a fast-reddening face.
Julie laughed. “You want me to put an extra pillow between us so we don’t catch each other’s cooties?”
“Maybe.”
***
They’d started off on opposite sides of the bed, lying back to back, but now she was half under him. He held onto her like a security blanket.
Julie felt his breath come hot over the back of her neck in faint murmurs. Aaron spoke of his team and revenge and murder. He shifted and she felt the roughness of healing chest wounds against her back.
A man you loved did that to him.
“I’m sorry, Aaron,” she whispered.
He muttered in his sleep.
Julie needed to see his face, needed to say the words to his face even if Aaron slept through it. She shifted under him, turned onto her back.
“Aaron.”
He exhaled a moan into her mouth.
She watched his eyes flit under closed lids, noted the slackness in his jaw that led to a partially opened mouth. Aaron looked both more at peace and distressed than she’d ever seen him awake. She reached out and gently felt ribbed flesh beneath his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
Aaron’s eyes blinked open. He looked at her. He bowed his head to kiss her, but pulled back at the last second.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I want you to.”
His breath caught in her words. He kissed her and she welcomed it, even when it fell into desperation. Her tongue coaxed his out of hiding and she moaned. He moaned with her. The kiss caught fire and he held her fast by the hair.
He needed this. He needed her. To feel her and taste her and have her.
His tasted the circumference of her mouth before he moved to her jaw as his hand worked under her shirt. She was muscular; she could fight him if she didn’t want this.
Julie felt the scars as she pushed up his shirt, remembering how fascinated George had been with her appendix scar, how he’d lick its length and tickle her. Aaron didn’t laugh; he tensed before letting all the worry out in a moan against her neck. There was no hesitation in Julie’s touch, no pause at the new horrors carved into his body. Her touch was as light as his was rough. There was no fear in her, only an acceptance as her lips pressed against his shoulder. Aaron bit her breast and Julie gasped. She slipped hands between them to work loose his pants
“I want you to,” she said.
He felt her fingers brush the underside of his cock. In a grunt Aaron gave a thrust against her hand. “Fuck…”
Julie watched him, lifting her hips so he could strip her off her jeans. Once they were gone she sat up and pushed down his pants.
“Roll over,” Aaron growled.
She obeyed and relaxed as his hands examined the plains of her back. The calluses on his fingers rode down her spine, reminded her of sirens after a late-night shooting. The connection made her groan. His palms were smoother than the bar-backs in Uphams Corner and Southie and his touch more respectful. A hand stopped at the curve of her ass. She shivered when his lips pressed open at the center of her shoulder blades.
Aaron kissed her cheek. “May I have you like this?”
“I want you to.”
Aaron’s panting gave way to a heated groan. His hand slipped into her panties, between cheeks and thighs that lifted for Aaron’s hand. His fingers slipped between wet lips. Julie gave a cry as a finger brushed her clit. She shifted. Her hand joined his and they caught floods together.
“Aaron…gawd…Aar-on.” Julie’s words broke down with her thoughts.
She felt the edge, the precipice, as it rushed at her. Her muscles prepared for the leap. He peeled away her panties and she spread shaking knees for him.
“I want -“
Aaron forced the rest out in single thrust. Julie’s palm hit the wall and her fingers curled. Her cunt fluttered and clamped at the sudden, harsh, entry. Her lips panted out her smile. She heard, saw, the car fire from her youth, those bright dancing flames and that earth-shaking explosion when flames reached the gas tank. She was inside it as the orgasm shook her.
He lowered his head, tasted the salt of her skin. One hand cupped her bare breast. Her heart pounded against his fingers.
He needed her close, he needed her to be part of him…to be his. She’d been Foyet’s, The Reaper’s, once. But tonight she’d be his. He’d make her his as much and for as long as he could.
He stopped, leaned down, whispered. “I want you to see.”
Julie thought of all she’d see, all he’d want her to see. The scars, the pain, the hate…all that darkness she could keep for him like she had her family and friends and George. She’d see it, accept it, and tuck it away in her mind’s dark chamber that was kept for all those close.
He pulled out, reentered as soon as she was on her back. He teased, slipped in an inch or two, did it slow, pulled back. Aaron slid in a little more.
She gripped the back of his neck and hair. “Aaron…come…” she breathed. “Come inside me.”
The words made him shudder and swell from the inside out. He discharged the last of his self-control in a long, low, groan.
He moaned her name. Julie smiled. She began to massage his scalp, to play with the tips of his hair.
***
JJ’s wake up call to the team pulled them out of bed and into reality.
“I’ll be ready in ten…” Aaron paused to look over at Julie. “Fifteen minutes.” He hung up.
“Don’t take any longer on my account.” Julie smiled as she slipped on her panties.
“We should talk.”
“About?”
Aaron threw on a new pair of pants. “Last night.”
“Uh-uh,” Julie shook her head. “All talking’s going to do is ruin it, Aaron. Just let it be what it was.”
“Which was?”
“An amazing night between two people who needed one.”
“And that’s it?”
She saw Aaron’s expression; a mask with hurt in the eyes. “Aaron, you…you have your family, your job and…” she shrugged out a smile. “You really wanna start something serious up with the ex of the man you’re hunting while you’re balancing everything else? Do you honestly think you even could?”
He gave no response.
“If you need me answer questions or keep you company or just talk then you can contact me.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all we have, Aaron.” Julie pulled her shirt down as she headed towards him. “There’s nothing wrong with that, you know.”
“I suppose not.”
“You don’t seem convinced.”
Aaron wasn’t. Years of conservative raising and marrying the first girl who slept with him set a very specific idea of what sex meant. It meant, at least, the attempts at a relationship. “I can call you?”
“Anytime. You know how to find me.”
The phone in Aaron’s hand vibrated and he muttered a curse as he answered. “JJ, I…”
Julie smiled, her point made. By the time Hotch hung up she was fully dressed and throwing on her jacket. “Is it easier if you or I leave first?”
“Probably you.”
“Okay then.” She grabbed her helmet and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, Aaron.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care.”
“I will. And…you too.”
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, / But I have promises to keep..." ~ Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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