You and the stoic Unit Chief have a history, to say the least.

The two of you went to the FBI Academy at the same time.

The two of you parted ways shortly after your graduation. Hotch went off to the Seattle Field Office, while you went off to New York.

After about ten years, you decided that you were sick of the city life. Moved from Manhattan to a small town in Northern California, working as a homicide detective.

Your relationship ended suddenly, if you could even call it a relationship. The two of you were best friends, practically. Always spending time with one another. And then there was the sex, which made things complicated.

When you called the BAU in to assist you in solving a series of murders, you were surprised to hear that your old friend Aaron Hotchner was the Unit Chief.

Hotch recognized your last name instantly, but he brushed it off as a coincidence. His mind was tricking him into seeing patterns that weren’t there. Surely there were other people with that last name…

Definitely wasn’t a coincidence.

Seeing you again was like seeing a ghost. He couldn’t look you in the eye without remembering how your voice sounded all breathless and needy, how your hands would wrap themselves up in his hair, how your back would arch up against him…

You’d just solved the case with the BAU’s help. Hotch insisted that the team stay for the night, get some sleep.

You were in the middle of assisting Agent Jennifer Jareau with clearing the evidence boards when you heard that all too familiar voice.

“I’ve got this, JJ. Get some rest.” Aaron insisted, adjusting his tie.

JJ just gave a knowing smirk and a nod before walking away, leaving you alone with him.