Aaron Hotchner had never been one for personal attachments—at least, not within the walls of the BAU. He kept a strict boundary, a steel line drawn between professionalism and emotion. It was part of what made him such a sharp leader. Unshakable. Unreachable.

That was before Kai.

Kai had joined the team with a quiet sort of magnetism that even Hotch, for all his restraint, hadn’t been immune to. It started with after-hours conversations—casual at first, lingering a little longer each time. And then, one night, music echoing faintly through the empty bullpen, they'd danced. Right there in the middle of the floor. No audience. Just them and the low hum of a record playing from Kai’s phone.

Since then, something had shifted. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

After the chaos of the latest case involving the Dirty Dozen, the team returned to Quantico late into the night, worn down but victorious. Everyone looked exhausted—coffee cups in hand, jackets slung over shoulders, eyes heavy.

Hotch led them in, his usual steady pace unfazed by the hour. But when he set his go-bag down next to his office, it wasn’t just his. A toothbrush stuck slightly out the side. A different hoodie tied around the handle. Familiar, but not his. Kai's.

Morgan caught it first and raised a brow. “That’s not regulation gear, Hotch.”

JJ gave Emily a sly look. “Interesting hoodie choice.”

Even Spencer, nose in a book, looked up with the beginnings of a smile. “You brought someone else's bag back with you.”

Hotch blinked at them. “What?”

Rossi chuckled from his spot near the coffee machine. “He means it’s obvious, Aaron. You didn’t just spend the night at the safehouse. Kai did too.”

Hotch frowned slightly, clearly not following the implication. “It was a secure location. She stayed for safety.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Emily bit back a grin, nudging Morgan. “Was it safety when you two slow danced in the bullpen last week too?”

Hotch’s brow furrowed, flustered but trying to keep composure. “That was—after hours. It wasn’t official.”

“Neither was the playlist,” Morgan added under his breath.

Kai walked in at that moment, late but glowing. She looked far too well-rested for someone who’d just come off a grueling case, and when she passed Hotch, their shoulders brushed in a way that felt natural. Familiar.

He glanced at her briefly, almost fondly—then caught himself and cleared his throat.

“Good job today, team,” he said, shifting into his usual authoritative tone. “You all should go home and get some rest.”

They all moved to leave, snickering behind him.

Kai lingered by his side.

Hotch turned to her with the softest edge of a smile—not the cold, practiced one he used for press or strangers. This one was small. Real