The Long, Lonely Road Ahead

The following events take place after Hotch’s divorce but prior to JJ’s giving birth.

Yes, I know it’s a Mary Sue in some ways, but it was fun to write, so I’m throwing it out there for you to read and see what you think.

The Long, Lonely Road Ahead

Chapter Thirteen

When I awoke the next morning, it was to coffee, brought to me in bed.
“Thanks, Aaron,” I said, sitting up as he put the mug on the night stand next to me.
“You’re welcome,” he answered, sitting down on the bed beside me.
“You like this homebody thing, don’t you?”
“Homebody thing?”
“I bet you loved being married.”
“I did. But it didn’t love me,” he said. He sipped at the mug in his hand.
“How is that possible?”
“Hayley would answer the phone and if it was work, she say it was ‘my wife.’ And she was pretty much right, unfortunately. As much as I might wish for domestic bliss, my job really precludes it.”
“Mmmm, I see. So no more marriage for you,” I said, sipping my coffee.
“I can’t see it happening successfully, no,” he said. He looked at me over his cup. “No matter how much I might wish that weren’t the case.”
“I’m not really the marrying kind myself,” I said, putting down my mug. I leaned over and kissed him. “Not that I don’t do the commitment thing, but I can’t handle that much time living with someone else. I’ve tried the whole living together thing and it made me nuts.”
“Really,” he said with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve met a woman who wasn’t interested in some variation on a long-term relationship.”
“Oh, I could do the long-term thing,” I said, pulling him towards me and straddling him. He casually sipped his coffee as if I weren’t on his lap. “I just can’t do the whole domestic thing. I can’t cook, I don’t clean, I’m barely capable of keeping a plant alive…”
“I can’t believe that. Have you tried cactus?” He asked and I laughed. I took his coffee mug from him and placed it behind me on the table next to my own mug.
“Cactus, shmactus,” I said, kissing him hard. He kissed me back for a bit, until we were both breathing hard.
“Hard to argue with that,” he murmured as I pushed him backwards on the bed. “And as much as I would love to spend more time making love to you, I have to get to work.”
“I know,” I said, reaching into his boxers for his already erect cock. “This is just a quickie. I’m driving.” I slid my undies down quickly and impaled myself on him. He sucked in his breath, his eyes closing as I rode him, slowly at first and then quickly, bringing us both to a climax within minutes. I kissed him as we came down from our orgasmic high, and he smiled at me. “Now you might not be quite as uptight today at work.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” he sighed, kissing me back. I got up off of him, and he smacked me on the bum. “Showers. Now.”
“Together?”
“Alone. I don’t have the time for anything else,” he said, stripping as he headed to the bathroom. I watched him walk away, and considered my situation. I was here for another couple of weeks, although really, no matter what I told Pen, I didn’t have to go back immediately. The only problem would be staying in the States, when I was only supposed to be here for a visit. I’d quit my job at the college before coming out here; I hated it and was thinking, when I first came out here, that I would take this time to see what else I might want to do with my life. Now I was thinking that maybe I would stay for a while, see if I could find a job here or something. I had my American citizenship too, thanks to my mother who had married an American (my Dad). My Dad had moved up to BC when the Vietnam war was happening – not because he was a draft dodger, because he wasn’t even the right age, but because he didn’t agree with it. He retained his citizenship, though, until well after I was born, so I got to be a dual citizen. I could, ostensibly, stay and work without a worry, but I’d left my social security card back in Canada, with everything else I owned, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to just up and leave all that.

I sipped my coffee as Aaron showered, contemplating what to do with myself next. When he was done, I hopped in the shower and washed myself quickly, coming out just as he was finished dressing in his ubiquitous suit.
“Nice suit,” I said, as he tied his tie.
“Thanks,” he said, straightening the knot in the mirror. I dropped my towel on a nearby chair, and strode, naked, to my bag on the other side of the room. He picked the towel off the chair, and stood watching me as I combed through my hair in front of the mirror. “You really are incredibly beautiful.”
“Gosh, Aaron, thanks,” I said with a quick grin. “I was hoping I might tempt you into another quickie, but it’s clear that you’ve got much greater will power than I do.”
“You’re something else,” he laughed, hanging the wet towel in the bathroom to dry.
“I get that a lot,” I replied, quickly pulling on a pair of panties and then an exercise bra. I slid into a pair of tights and a t-shirt, pulling a sweatshirt over top. Sweat socks, running shoes, and my hair up in a tight braid, and I was ready.
“You look like you’re getting ready for a workout,” he said, as I stuffed my used clothing and toiletries into my bag.
“I am. There’s a gym near Pen’s place. I checked it out a couple of days ago – before the Starbucks ordeal, obviously – and they can accommodate me today,” I told him as we headed down the stairs, mugs in hand. He’d already cleaned up the wineglasses in the living room, and the place looked fairly spotless. We pulled out our coats, he grabbed his briefcase, and then we were out the door.
“Will I see you tonight?” he asked, as he pulled up to Pen’s building.
“Do you want to?”
“Of course I do,” he said.
“Well then… If work let’s you, I’m good to go. Text me on my new Blackberry!” I said and he grinned.
“I’ll do that,” he replied and with a quick kiss, I exited the car. He drove away as I watched, and then I headed into Pen’s building to put my stuff away and get ready for my workout.

(“Can I have a word with you?” David Rossi asked Aaron Hotchner, just as Hotch was settling into his office for the morning.”
“Of course. Come in,” he said, indicating a chair in front of his desk. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to step on any toes here, but I’m a bit concerned about Garcia’s cousin,” Rossi began. Hotch looked at him over his paperwork.
“In what way?”
“How much do we really know about her?”
“Why do we need to know anything more than she and Garcia have already told us?”
“You’ve begun a relationship with her, am I right?”
“Why is that any of your business? David, where is this going?”
“Aaron, we’ve known each other for a long time,” Rossi said, spreading his hands along the edge of the desk. “It’s not that I’m questioning your beginning a relationship with anyone, it’s just that this woman makes me nervous.”
“What are you seeing that I’m not seeing?” Hotch asked, sitting back in his chair.
“Garcia has never mentioned her before,” Rossi began, holding up fingers and ticking them off as he made his points. “She’s lived with the Blackhawk militia. She’s still training with weapons, which tells us that she’s not given up that lifestyle, and why?”
“She was preparing herself just in case she had to face her abusers again,” Hotch said, but Rossi held up his hands.
“I know that, and that’s another question. She’s the least damaged damaged person I’ve ever met.”
“You’ve met me.”
“You’re not undamaged.”
“Neither is she.”
“I’ve been doing a little research, Hotch, and I’m concerned, that’s all. Did you know she’s married?”
“What?” Hotch sat up in his seat. “No.”
“She neglected to tell you that? I’m surprised. I found a newspaper article about her rescue from the Militia. We know the Blackhawk Militia are not just a paramilitary group, but also almost a cult, ruled by a leader we can’t seem to get a bead on. He’s too reclusive, too elusive, but some of the practises of this group have been questioned by many different people, including the FBI.”
“I know they have allegedly practised polygamy, but it’s almost impossible to get people who have left to talk about it,” Hotch said. “What did the article say?”
“Read it for yourself,” Rossi said, handing it to Hotch, who read silently to himself.
“When she was fourteen, she was forced into a marriage with a man twice her age,” Hotch said, after a pause for thought. “If there is parental consent, it’s legal to marry someone between fourteen and sixteen under California state law.”
“And there was parental consent. Her mother gave her away.”
“No, she’s never mentioned this. But David, that was more than twenty years ago…”
“There’s evidence, Hotch, that she returns to the compound at least once a year,” Rossi said. Hotch held his head in his hands.
“What kind of evidence?”
“The domestic terrorism division has had the compound under observation for years. You know that. That’s how we got the information about Darrel Hollowfield. They’ve got photos of her with her mother at the compound that were taken earlier this year.”
“You’re kidding,” Hotch said.
“I’m sorry about this, Aaron, but getting into a relationship with this woman would be tantamount to career suicide. We could use her to get to the leader, possibly, but as long as she’s got ties to this group, you can’t be involved with her.”
“What do you think I should do?” Hotch asked, looking down at his desk.
“How deep have you gotten in it with this woman?”
“Deeper than I’d like to admit,” Hotch said, shaking his head.
“Honestly? You’d be best to bring her in so we can see what she knows. DHS might want a crack at her too.”
“I’m not going to put her through that,” Hotch snapped. “She’s been through a hell of a lot already, particularly in the last few days.”
“You can’t just leave it, Aaron,” Rossi said gently. “You have to deal with this.”
“Maybe we should talk to Garcia again.”)