G-Man and Danger

Hotch opened his eyes slowly. His head ached and his tongue felt swollen. 'Where am I?' he wondered. He glanced around the room. It was small, just a little larger then a hotel room; couch, small kitchenette, a door leading to the bathroom and the bed he was lying in. He lifted up the covers, he was naked except for his black boxer briefs. 'How much did I drink last night' he wondered, running his hand through his hair ' where are my clothes and my...SHIT' Hotch sat up in the bed. He glanced to his right and saw a chair where his clothes were neatly folded and stacked, his suit coat hanging on the back of the chair. He got out of the bed and began rummaging through his clothing. 'Shit. Not here. This is bad. This is very, very bad.'

He pulled on his slacks and undershirt. Still barefoot, he padded to the bathroom. Once inside he noticed a packaged toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste lying on the sink. He brushed his teeth, ridding his mouth of the fuzzy taste. He walked back to the main room, glancing around. Through doors leading to a deck he could see spiky blonde hair leaning over a lap top. 'Ohhh' some of the night was returning to him, the bar, the band, the bass player. He stepped out the doors into the bright sunshine.

"Good morning G-man." Jazzy said, glancing up at him.

"Uhh, morning, I guess." Hotch said, looking around him. They were on a deck facing the ocean.

"How's your head?"

"Okay, a little achy. Uhmmmm where are my..."

"Sidearms?" she asked.

He nodded his head slowly.

"They're locked up in my transport case. Do you need them right away?" she asked, moving to get up.

He waved his hand to motion her to sit down, "As long as they are secure, it's fine."

"I felt seriously weird taking them off of you." she said, "but you were very, very drunk and in my world firearms and alcohol don't mix. Nice Glocks by the way." she added.

He stared down at his hands, embarrassed at having his sidearms so easily removed from him, and shook his head, "No. You did the right thing." He looked at her curiously, "You know hand guns?"

She nodded, "I have a Smith and Wesson 9 mm and a Sig .22 Mosquito."

Hotch's lips played up at the corners.

Jazzy stared at him. "Oh no. No you are not. I've been so nice to you. You are not going to make fun of my .22"

"But it's just a little gun." Hotch said, his smile spreading across his face.

Jazzy stuck her tongue out at him. "Well. In case you haven't noticed. I'm a just a little person."

Hotch flushed a little, he noticed that she was wearing only a white wife beater and white cotton bikini panties, "I had noticed that." he mumbled.

"Hey. You want some coffee?" Jazzy asked. She had noticed the flush and his glance at her. "There's some in the kitchen."

"Yeah. I would. "He turned to go back inside.

"There's a plate of eggs and sausage in the microwave too, if you're hungry." Jazzy called after him.

Hotch came back with a cup of coffee and the plate of food. He joined Jazzy at the table and started eating. "Thanks, this is really good. How did you get me here anyway?" he asked.

Jazzy smiled at him shyly, "Don't you remember anything from last night? I dug through your pockets until I found your keys. Then I went to the parking lot and behold, I found a great big black Yukon. Tank helped me load you in."

Hotch chuckled. "I remember bits and pieces." he said. "Did you undress me too?"

He watched as she blushed a fiery red, "No, you were dancing around pretty much taking your clothes off all by yourself. I just made sure you didn't fall and break something."

It was Hotch's turn to flush again. "I didn't..."he stammered.

"Oh no," Jazzy said, shaking her head, "You were the perfect gentlemen. And I slept on the couch." she added quickly. "Is your head feeling better?" she asked, trying to ease the uncomfortable tension that had risen up.

He nodded, "Much. Thanks. Well I'd better get going." he started to say.

Jazzy's heart jumped a little. Suddenly she really didn't want this man to leave. She wanted him to stick around. "Why don't you grab a shower before you hit the road." she suggested.

Hotch stared out at the ocean. He enjoyed talking to this woman and he couldn't deny he enjoyed looking at her, "That sounds like a good idea. Where is it?" he asked, "It didn't seem to be located in the bathroom."

Jazzy laughed and pointed towards stairs off the deck, "It's an outside shower. It's one of the things that I love about this quirky old beach house."

"Okay," Hotch smiled, "Where are the keys to the Yukon? I have a travel bag in there with a change of clothes."

"Kitchen counter and the key to my transport case are there too." Jazzy said, returning her attention to her laptop.

Hotch went out to the Yukon and grabbed his go bag. He didn't know if he should be sticking around here, but he couldn't deny his attraction to this unique woman. He remembered bits and pieces of the other night. Watching her play, her amazing voice, her perceptiveness. What had she said to him about pain and time? Oh, time heals all wounds. He couldn't remember if he'd asked her what she meant by that, but he still wanted to do that. Hotch carried his bag through the Beach house and back onto the deck.

"Bottom of the steps," Jazzy said, "There should be towels, soap, whatever you need, just help yourself."

She watched him as he walked down the stairs. 'God he is sexy.' she thought to herself. She mentally slapped herself on the wrist, 'Now Jazzy, try and keep your mind out of the gutter.' But it was hard to do, she hadn't been this attracted to a man in a very long time. She heard the shower come on. 'Now don't you look. Don't you dare look' she chastised herself. But she couldn't resist the temptation. What Hotch didn't know and she had neglected to mention was the fact that if someone was sitting on the porch, while someone was taking a shower...well, you could see directly into the shower. She had seen him in his boxer's last night, that was almost naked she rationalized. Slowly turning her head, she drank in the site of Special Agent Aaron Hotchner in her shower.

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