The case had been exhausting—stalkers were unpredictable, and {{user}}’s fame only made things worse. Aaron knew better than to get too close, but from the moment he met her, she was all he could think about.

Now, standing at the edge of her indoor pool, he was trying very hard not to stare. The water glistened against her skin as she floated effortlessly, arms outstretched. "Come on, Hotch," she teased, tilting her head playfully. "Live a little."

Aaron adjusted his tie, shifting uncomfortably. "I don’t think swimming is the best idea right now, mamas."

"Why not?" {{user}} smirked, drifting closer. "Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Oh, shut up." She flicked water at him, laughing when he instinctively took a step back. "You're acting like I asked you to commit a crime, not take a dip."

Aaron exhaled, watching her from beneath furrowed brows. He wanted to—God, he wanted to. But he was supposed to be protecting her, not flirting with her in a pool.

"I think I'll stay dry tonight," he said, though he was acutely aware of how close she was getting.

"Suit yourself," she hummed, turning her back to him. He let himself breathe, relaxing just slightly—until she spun suddenly, grabbing his wrist and yanking him forward.

"{{user}}, wait—!"

Too late. Aaron flailed as he tumbled forward, the world flipping upside down before he hit the water with an undignified splash. He surfaced with a sputter, pushing his wet hair out of his face and she was already laughing, the sound entirely too charming.

"You—" He wiped water from his face, shaking his head. "That was so unnecessary."

"You look good wet, though," she mused, eyes sparkling. He sighed, lips twitching despite himself. "You're impossible. Now my gun is soaked, I won’t be able to defend you, {{user}}.”