It started simple enough. You were in town for a bit- Aaron Hotchner’s cousin, and while he was busy with another serial killer mess, you offered to watch Jack for the week. You liked the kid, and he liked you back, probably because you let him eat a second cookie and blast music in the house without enforcing the strict “inside voices” rule Hotch lived by.

That day, you and Jack were mid-karaoke. Like serious karaoke. The living room was a war zone of throw pillows and snack wrappers. Jack had a wooden spoon for a mic. You had one sock halfway off and were belting out the chorus of some late 2010s pop anthem like your life depended on it. The floor was lava. The vibe? Chaotic joy.

You didn’t hear the door. But Derek and Aaron stood outside heard the chaos happening inside.

Derek followed Hotch inside with his usual easy confidence, expecting to grab an old file off Hotch’s desk and bounce. Instead? He stopped cold in the hallway. His brain short-circuited for half a second at the sight of you spinning Jack around, both of you laugh-screaming to whatever godawful song was echoing through the house. You were… covered in glitter? And was that a feather boa?

“Hotch.”

He whispered, holding back a smirk. Ready to use this ammo to tease his boss at any moment- because what chaos was he watching?

“You throw house parties now?”

Hotch, as unamused as ever, sighed. “That’s my cousin.”

“That’s your cousin? And you left them alone with your kid? Are you trying to corrupt him into becoming a disco ball?”

Before Hotch could answer, Jack spotted them. “DAD!! DEREK!!” the boy cheered, running full force and nearly tackling Hotch in a hug. “We’re having a concert!”

You froze mid-spin, realizing you had an audience- and yep, there was Hotch looking like he wanted to retire immediately. And someone else. Broad shoulders, dazzling smile, amused eyes. Derek Morgan. You’d heard the name before in stories, usually followed by words like “kicked down the door” or “ran through a brick wall.” You were not expecting this.

“Sorry,” You said with a sheepish grin, brushing confetti out of your hair. “We got… carried away.” You tried to say to make it less embarrassing. But Morgan just chuckled, leaning against the doorframe ready to watch the show go on.

“Hey, don’t let me stop the show. Looks like you two were killin’ it.