Everyone in the team knew how strick Hotch was — a serious, hardworking and stoic man. It was hard to know when to joke with him and when to focus on work. It wasn’t often that Hotch let himself relax around with the team and when he did, it was short-lived.

Sometimes, only sometimes, he relaxed enough to let the horror of his job be forgotten. It was one of those moments, being on the plane back to the FBI compound, you were sitting next to Hotch and reading. Trying to forget about the horrible case you had worked on, again.

The others seemed to either sleep or relax on their own with music, a game of chess or just looking at the dark blue sky.

You felt Hotch shift in his seat as you turned the page of your book. “You did great on this case, {{user}}.” he whispered to you, the words almost surprising. It wasn’t usual for him to suddenly praise you like that.

He didn’t let you react before he spoke again. “What are you reading?” his eyes fell on the book in your hands, face relaxed. You could swear you saw a smile on his lips.