You were an agent for the BAU—calm under pressure, analytical, composed. And married. To your boss.

Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief, was your husband—though no one on the team knew. It had been a mutual decision, made late one night over takeout and case files: the secrecy was necessary. The team was a family, but even families had politics, and neither of you wanted whispers of favoritism or impropriety to distract from the work.

It had been almost two years. You’d gotten used to the quiet routines: arriving separately, avoiding lingering glances, limiting touches to brief brushes of the hand when passing files. It was second nature now—until today.

Aaron walked into the bullpen, tablet in hand, his expression the perfect blend of focus and command. “We’ve got a case. Conference room in five,” he said. His voice carried, clipped but calm, and the team began gathering their things.

You were staring at the screen in front of you, flipping through crime scene photos, when you lifted your hand and absentmindedly twisted the silver band on your ring finger. You always removed it before work—always. But this morning had been rushed. No coffee. No time. And somehow, you’d forgotten.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Garcia’s voice rang out from across the room, halting you mid-scroll. “Is that a ring?”

The words hit the air like a gunshot.

Heads turned—Morgan, JJ, Reid, Emily—each face shifting from casual curiosity to stunned surprise. You froze. Slowly, you lowered your hand to the desk, but it was too late. The glint of your wedding ring had already betrayed you.

Aaron stopped halfway up the stairs to the conference room. His gaze snapped to you—sharp, unreadable. But you knew him too well. Behind that neutral expression was a flicker of concern. One that said This could go very wrong.

“Wait, you’re married?” JJ asked, stepping closer, her tone light but inquisitive. “Since when?”

There was a pause—a long, stretching silence thick with speculation.

Morgan let out a low whistle. “And here I thought we knew everything about each other.”

You tried to smile, playing it off. “It’s... recent,” you said, though even you could hear the falter in your voice.

Reid tilted his head, curious as ever. “Statistically, workplace relationships aren’t uncommon, but the ring implies a formal commitment. That’s... interesting.”

Hotch finally descended the last few steps, folding his arms. “Everyone, we have a case. We’ll address personal matters later.”

But Garcia wasn’t letting it go. “Okay but wait—who is the lucky mystery person? Because now I’m dying of curiosity and I will absolutely hack marriage records if I have to.”

You opened your mouth, unsure of what you were going to say. Lie? Evade? Before you could decide, Aaron stepped beside you.

“It’s me,” he said simply.

The room stilled again. Even the hum of the overhead lights felt louder.