Not as I Do (Criminal Minds, Hotch/JJ)

[jezebel215]

Not as I Do

<prologue>

The ground was damp and the air heavy with the scent of earth. October brought shorter days amidst a haze of fallen leaves and tannins. Not yet sunset but early dusk, the sky was a faint periwinkle with bare trees scratching the horizon. Beams of light broke through the lattice work of branches, illuminating the ground in a haphazard grid. Leaves, earth and moss blended in a sea of brown-green and rising from that sea - slim pale fingers, curved as if clutching the air, grabbing for -

~.~.~.~.~

The house was painted yellow, sun bleached to a slightly jaundiced off white color, the paint peeling on the edges of the siding. But the yard was well kept and by the door stood a throng of pumpkins. A single giant stood back, surrounded by a dozen smaller pumpkins. From the small, ornamental fruits to larger, harvest ready gourds they were gathered in a freeform grouping around the largest. That pumpkin was deep orange, almost ochre and only it had been carved. Slitted eyes and flat brows framed a face that held nothing else but a thin mouth. Watching, glaring even, its desolate face was lit fiercely from the candles burning within.

<chapter 1>

“Hh-Eksht.”

Reid’s sneeze echoed as he walked into the BAU. He wiped his nose hurriedly on the tissue tucked in his clenched hand and looked out to see who was watching him

They were all watching him, of course. They were profilers.

“I’m fine” he said, voice slightly hoarse but otherwise strong. Morgan met Reid’s eyes and held him, staring.

“I. Am. Fine.” Reid repeated. “My mucociliary escalator is removing inflammatory exudate from my lungs and concommitant nasopharyngeal irritation has lead to continued sternutory bursts but my hypothalamic set point has returned to 98.6 and I feel absolutely fine.”

“As long as you’re OK, Pretty Boy,” Morgan said, smiling, as he turned back to his paperwork.

It had been kind of a quiet week with Reid out sick since the team’s last assignment. He had continued working until they caught the unsub and only then had he surrendered to Hotch’s directive to go rest at the hotel.

Reid was the youngest of the team and for all his brilliance, his insecurity drove his actions. That’s not to say he wasn’t helpful. Despite being a sneezy, sniffling mess at the hotel his breakdown of the unsub’s grammar combined with a geographical profile had lead the team to a successful takedown. Only then had he gone back to the hotel, sleeping there until being roused for the jet ride home.

Hotch had kept a close eye on Reid but only, it seemed, when Reid was sleeping or otherwise incoherent. Hotch was the team leader and his underlings (though he would never call them such) were precious to him. It had been a hard year, the “loss” (and subsequent return) of Prentiss shaking his team to the core.

So Hotch let Reid come on the last case, despite knowing he was sick. Reid was so fragile right now- trying to forgive everyone involved with Emily’s “death” but still so angry... And he had been right to bring Reid. In the end, Reid had put together the pieces, despite them coming from different puzzles.

It was only right that Hotch watch out for him. Hotch took a swallow of coffee and cringed - when had his throad grown so tender? It didn’t matter. He was fine. He was the team leader and his team would be fine.

~.~.~.~.~

Edited March 24, 2012 by jezebel215

[matilda3948]

Oh, hooray! A new CM story!! This is delightful--you are a very talented writer. Can't wait for more.

[silentdreamer789]

Great start. Can't wait for more!

[jezebel215]

Part 2

“Unidentified female remains, aged 18-22 years, discovered yesterday morning in Stillwater, Minnesota. A group of high school kids were at a pick-your-own apple orchard. They got lost and found her in a stand of Minnesota Honeycrisp.”

Garcia’s voice was clear in the conference room but she turned away from the projected image of the dead body. The team sat around the large table in the conference room and looked over the initial case report.

“Honeycrisp apples are generally considered a fall apple with a harvest date in early September. The unsub may have expected that sector of the orchard to remain unpatrolled for some time, maybe even all winter.” Reid added.

“Garcia,” Hotch stopped to clear his throat. “Why have they called in the BAU? Are there other victims?”

“No known yet, sir, but the body itself was disturbing enough that local law enforcement reached out to the Bureau.”

Reid:

“All adult teeth were removed shortly before death. Early inflammations shows this was done before and not after death. With the exception of the missing dentition the oral cavity show signs of expectional care including no gingival disease. “

Prentiss:

When the officers on site opened the mouth to certify that the teeth were gone, they noted an astringent odor in the mouth - a generic ‘mouthwash’ scent.

Morgan:

So the UnSub takes them, keep them - somewhere? and for how long? Have we made any progress in identifying the victim?

Garcia:

No such luck my scrumptious fudge dimple. Ran the fingerprints through NCIC and the preliminary methodology through VICAP - no hits. I’m putting together a list of all open cases involving missing females in a hundred mile radius.

Hotch:

How far back? Start with five years. This guy has had practice. It is unlikely this was his first kill - just the first we’ve found. Or maybe he’s evolving, ready to share his “art” with the world. Either way -” Hotch paused and looked around the group, “Wheels up in 30.”

~.~.~.~

Amidst the scramble to get out of the conference room JJ held back, watching her boss. He had seemed tired the last few days, not that his work reflected any fault of duty. It was little things though -- catching him brewing an extra pot of coffee while he nearly chugged the mug he held in his other hand. He seemed a little pale too, though JJ thought smiling ‘kind of hard to judge on the Hotchner men.” White, off-white, glowing? It was a difficult diagnostic spectrum.

So she held back. Aaron hadn’t noticed her as she had walked toward the door then turned around to ask a question, her slim form enveloped by the shadow of the doorway.

Feeling alone Aaron let his head drop as he massaged his temples. His head ached. It always hurt, to some degree, but today there was a heaviness, a fullness that felt wrong. He had noticed earlier that his throat was a little sore (although that may just be the dry fall air.) He sniffed quietly, giving his sinuses an experimental probe.

Almost too fast for him to react and certainly to quickly for him to pull out his hankerchief he sneezed.

“Haz'Gnkxt”

His nose was knuckled into his fist and the force of the blast was contained in his bounding skull. He allowed himself a moment to rest his head on his hand and wait for the world to stop reverberating within him.

“Bless you.”

Hotch shot up, abruptly aware he wasn’t alone.

“JJ, why are you...” he trailed off, not wanting to ask a question he already knew the answer to but hoping that maybe she would lie to him.

“You looked a little off this morning. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

Hotch cleared his throat while he shook his head. He refused to take out his handkercheif, hoping instead that he could assuage JJ’s worries and get her out of the conference room before the tickle in his nose overpowered his self restraint.

“I’m fine, just a headache. I haven’t been sleeping much - Jack’s been having nightmares.”

Immediately JJ’s face softened and she walked to him, putting her hand on his forearm, “If there’s ever anything I can do-” The statement needed no ending, they both knew that anything was being used in its most literal way.

“Thanks Jayje. Why don’t you go get packed up and I’ll see you on the jet?”

Although she still looked worried and not entirely convinced JJ left Hotch in the office. As soon as she left he pulled out his hankercheif and buried his nose in it, facing away from the doorway, shoulders curling too as if using his whole body as a shield lest his sneeze betray him.

“Ik-Etsch..heh hhh'Etsch”

Hotch blew his nose softly and folded his hankerchief. His head pounded, his nose had joined his throat in revolt and his whole body felt vaguely achy. What bothered him more was that he had lied to JJ.

Jack was sleeping fine. It was Hotch who woke every night in a cold sweat, fighting a battle already lost.

Edited March 27, 2012 by jezebel215

[silentdreamer789]

This is...amazing.

Edited March 27, 2012 by silentdreamer789

[matilda3948]

Be still my fluttering heart!! This is so yummy You've got the characters totally nailed!

[jezebel215]

Part 3:

Although his go-bag was already packed Hotch considered swinging back home to grab a few extra hankerchiefs. As tempting as the idea was to his increasingly ticklish nose, he decided his half hour would be better spent laying in supplies to aid in his efforts to appear “healthy.” He was surrounded people whose job was to observe. Although they always agreed not to profile each other it was hard not to do sometimes, especially when aberrations in behavior shouted their presence. For goodness sake, Reid knew how long it took Rossi to read a page of a book down to the second.

Hotch pulled on his coat then paused and grabbed a heavier wool overcoat that he kept in his office closet. It was cold in DC and he couldn’t imagine it would be any warmer in Minnesota. He also grabbed a knit hat, scarf and glove set that he kept on hand for the same reason.

On his way out he looked to see that he was the only one left in the office. Once he was sure he was alone he grabbed a handful of tissues from the conference room (tissues meant to catch tears of grieving loved ones) and tucked all but one into his pocket. Despite being the only person in the office, Hotch went into the mensroom, making it just in time to stifle a set of rough sneezes in the tissue, still clutched in his hand.

“his'Gnkxt... eh.. nhk-Gisch”

He sniffed and blew is nose softly, alarmed at how gurgly it sounded already. He had been feeling run down the last few days and, if he was honest with himself, by yesterday evening he had been pretty sure he was coming down with Reid’s cold. Sure enough that he had stopped and bought orange juice, chicken soup and hand sanitizer on the way home. Even with the hand sanitizer, if he was sick there was a good chance Jack would get sick too and although Aaron didn’t put much effort into his own well being there was nothing he valued higher than Jack’s health and safety. Nothing.

Hotch turned to leave the bathroom but was stopped by his nose. He stifled two more sneezes into his nearly destroyed tissue before deciding that stifling only made his nose itch more (not to mention the pounding in his head).

“HRr-Egscht ... Haz'Gnkxt”

Sure that he was alone Hotchner grabbed a few paper towels (deciding not to waste his supply of tissues with a ready paper source on hand) and waited. It only took a moment as he stood there alone in the bathroom, so air so quiet his breathing seemed eo echo. Hotch concentrated on exactly what he was feeling, hoping that this would clue him into warning signs and he wouldn’t sneeze accidentally in front of anyone.

It started with a tickle, a vague irritation in his soft palate that grew as he inhaled. Hotch slowed his breathing, hoping to forestall the inevitable. It worked for a second before he could feel the sneeze building again. The tickle was still there but it disappeared into a burning sensation. Aaron could hear his breath hitching and ventured a look at himself in the mirror. He looked appalling. And ridiculous. And sick.

“heh...eh..hah..ah..Ack-Hapt'choo

Distracted by that thought the sneeze broke through his last defensees and he gave into it completely, his nose well covered by the handful of paper towels. As he was bent over he felt an alarming warmth in his nose, sluicing down from unknown stores in his sinuses and finally escaping into the faux-tissues.

Hotch stood quickly then grabbed the sink to steady himself. He added “dizzy” to his mental list of symptoms then assessed his upper respiratory tact. A cautious sniff was rewarded an annoying sniffle and he cringed at the audible wetness -- it would soon start the annoying see-saw between complete congestion and dripping and that would be hard to conceal. There was also a tightness in his head, it felt like his face was swelling from the inside, pressing relentlessly and promising pain in his head and sinuses.

The face in the mirror looked a little peaked. Aaron smirked at his word choice - it had a dignified air to it he decided. It was much better than ‘pathetic.’ His face was a little pale and his eyes had tears in the corners from sneezing. He wiped them away, unconsciously shuffling up his face to relieve the discomfort. He froze -- there would be no more of that.

Hotch decided that taking stock of his symptoms was only disheartening him and he’d rather start on the proactive part of his mission. He smirked again, allowing himself this small break in his patent stern expression only because he was alone. He felt a little silly. Maybe even a lot silly. He was a grown man off to investigate a very serious crime with a group of people he respected and cared for deeply. And despite that his primary goal at the moment was to sneak off to a drugstore and buy whatever might make him feel better.

Hotch was the team leader. His team was absolutely capable but he didn’t feel his illness warranted his removal from the case. At the same time, he didn’t want to distract them from the case at hand, worrying uselessly about him. He was fine. He was Aaron Hotchner and he was going to be fine if it killed him.

Edited March 28, 2012 by jezebel215

[matilda3948]

[AmeliePoulain]

!

Your writing is excellent! Please continue

[jezebel215]

Part 4

Aaron cringed at his choice of words. Words in his head, of course, but it sent a chill through him all the same. He swiped angrily at his nose and threw out the tissue and paper towels then hurriedly washed his hands and headed out of the building.

Outside the day had gotten brighter but it seemed colder as well. Hotch slid into his car and drove a few miles, hoping to be safely away from watchful eyes. He pulled into a Walgreens, parked and walked in. His nose threatened to start dripping and he dabbed at it carefully.

His plan for medicine was to purchase drugs that can be used to treat more acceptable conditions -- ibuprofen for his headache, Benadryl and tissues for an ‘allergy’, cooling vitamin C drops - he figured he’d make a joke about scurvy or something if anyone caught him with one. He also caught some Zicam and EmergenC. He could always blame Reid and just say he was being cautious (although it would be better if no one ever saw any of this medicine).

Hotch hesitated in front of what he really wanted: the Dayquil/Nyquil combo pack. If anyone caught him with it he would be branded ‘officially sick’ but on the other hand, if he could keep it concealed it might help with his charade. Hotch decided to take the chance.

Outside the store he opened all his purchases and discarded the receipt, packaging and all other damning evidence of his purchase in the garbage. The blister packs of translucent “-quil” capsules hypnotized him and Hotch decided to strike preemptively. He popped open two of the orange ones and dry swallowed them the way had swallowed a hundred advils before that.

This time, though, it was a mistake. The pills caught in his throat and though he did swallow them he was left bent over and coughing for half a minute. When he got control of his breathing he stood up, ignored the looks of people passing him and strode to his car, slumping down only once he was safely in the drivers seat. He grabbed a bottle of water from the back seat and drank about half of it.

In control again Hotch quickly tucked the medicines in his duffel, advil on the top and the rest of his stash at the bottom. Glancing at his watch he was alarmed to see he had used up 23 of his 30 minutes. Through he drove quickly to the small airport that housed the private BAU jet he still arrived about 3 minutes late. Not much but an aberration. But enough that it would be noticed.

~.~.~.~

In the jet the rest of the team had sprawled out. While Reid lay down on the couch for a quick nap, Morgan and Prentiss sat in the bucket seats at the rear of the plane. Morgan immediately put on his headphones while Prentiss continued perusing the case report. Dave sat at the conference table. JJ had put her bag down by the conference table but had gotten up again. Realizing she was pacing she forced herself to sit down and look relaxed. She thought:

“Hotch is 3 minutes late. He hasn’t been stabbed, shot or maimed. He is stuck in traffic, at a red light, by construction. He is fine.”

She repeated it, again in head. On her third mental recitation the object of her worry appeared at the plane door.

“I apologize,” Aaron said gruffly then started for one of the seats at the conference table.

“For what?” Rossi asked with a touch of amused yet knowing disbelief.

“For my lateness.”

“You’re right. Three minutes is a serious transgression. I’ll forgive it this one time and you can owe me one.”

Dave’s words were light but there was a tightness to his tone. Hotch could feel eyes burning into him and he strode forward with a quick nod. JJ had sat back down at the conference table once Hotch showed up.

Although he wanted to go curl up on the couch, that was not an option. Not because Reid was there but because Hotch would not allow himself that level of relaxation. The bucket seats at the back of the jet would afford him some privacy but still, he would be diverging from his routine. So he sat down at the table, sliding in next to JJ, and pulled out the case file.

~.~.~.~.

JJ started:

“Based on the degree of decay the coroner estimates the body’s been dead between five and seven days. The temperature has been about 45 degrees Fahrenheit the last week and dry although there is rain on the forecast for tomorrow.”

Hotch cringed when he heard ‘rain’ then ignored his reaction. “We’ll need to confirm TOD with insect activity. Also ambient moisture, burial depth, body size and clothing.”

“Most of that information will be gathered at the scene. At this point the body is so bloated that it is difficult to quantify age although hair suggests a white female. Once the autopsy is complete and the BAU has looked at the body they plan to clean the skeleton.”

Hotch nodded while Rossi added:

“Tell me more about the teeth? Is there any indication how long before death they were removed? Or how?”

Paging through the report Hotch interjected,

“Unfortunately, decay of the oral cavity has made it difficult to assess the soft tissue response to dental extraction.”

“So how do they know it was ante mortem,” Rossi asked.

“There appears to be blood clots at the site of the wound and we are waiting for histological confirmation of an inflammatory tissue response.”

“So we don’t really know if it was ante, peri or postmortem, do we.”

Rossi looked up, meeting Hotch and JJ’s gaze.

“I’m just saying.”

“Regardless of timing, the full arcade extraction is an unusual behavior for an unsub,” Hotch answered. I trust-”

He paused, feeling his nose start to tickle, then soldiered on, “I trust local .. eh...” His eyes unfocused slightly and he could feel tears welling. His nose burned and Hotch decided that rather than fight the sneeze he would give in to it but then play it off as if nothing had happened.

“Excuse me,” he said then turned away from JJ and muffled two sneezes into his elbow.

“hnhk-Gisch..Ack-Hapt'choo.”

The second sneeze escaped his attempts to stifle but at least it had been dry. Aaron sat up quickly and ignored the spinning in his head as he finished what he was saying, “That local law enforcement was right in calling in the BAU.”

Neither JJ nor Rossi said anything. Instead both started at him. Admittedly it was a subtle stare but they were good at their job and Hotch could feel them assessing him. Rossi broke the silence.

“Bless you.”

Hotch nodded curtly, not looking up from the file he had begun to re-read. He refused to rub his nose or sniff or anything else that would betray his current condition. Maybe they would just ignore it...

[silentdreamer789]

I'm completely in love with this...

Edited March 29, 2012 by silentdreamer789

[jezebel215]

Part Five

No such luck. Though she remained silent Hotch could practically feel JJ’s restlessness, her desire to know if he was OK. He hated putting her in distress but he wasn’t ready to be totally open about his health either.

His nose still tickled. Worse, it felt like it was threatening to run driving him to an embarrassing mess or equally embarrassing sniffling. Time for Plan B.

“I think I might be having an allergy attack,” Hotch stated, purposefully meeting both JJ’s and Rossi’s eyes.

He was met with a raised eyebrow from Rossi and a look of deepening concern from JJ.

Still Rossi responded, challenging, “To what? I don’t remember you having allergies before.”

Thankfully Hotch had prepared for this line of questioning.

“I’m not sure what, but the last year or so I’ve been really sniffly and sneezy in the fall.”

Both Dave and JJ relaxed a bit and Hotch felt both pleased with his deception and guilty at the same time.

“I don’t remember you having any issues last fall,” JJ asked, concern creeping into the corners of her eyes.

“I forgot to take any Claritin this morning. I’ll pick some up when we get to Stillwater.”

This seemed to calm them both and again Hotch was both pleased and disgusted with himself. To Rossi he had admitted allergies; to JJ he had claimed allergies along with a headache and exhaustion (on account of Jack’s nightmares). None of this was true. But it seemed to be enough, for the time being, to allay their concerns so Hotch would take it.

Even as he was pondering the dubious morality of his actions JJ was rooting through her purse. She finally pulled out a bottle.

“I’m sorry - it’s just Benadryl, not a non-drowsy anti-histamine, but maybe your could take it and get some rest on the plane and feel better by the time we land.”

Her tone raised plaintively despite what was an obvious resolution to remain professional. Benadryl would help with any inflammatory histamine response his cold was evoking though it would do nothing for his sore throat, pounding head and growing fever. Still, the excuse to sleep was a gift he grabbed readily.

“We have a few hours,” he said. “Maybe the Benadryl will help.”

Before he had finished JJ had the drug out, her slim hand cupping the two pink pills gingerly, offering them to Hotch. He took them and she handed him a bottle of water. He swallowed the pills quickly, pleased with himself that he neither cringed nor coughed during the endeavor.

“How about you get some rest for the next couple hours,” JJ offered. Rossi was already moving out of the booth, tacitly agreeing to JJ’s suggestion. To Hotch rest sounded like heaven and he felt awfully clever for ending up in this position - he was going to be able to sleep on the plane with an excuse and (hopefully) he would arrive in Stillwater much improved. Who knows, maybe he really was having an allergy attack.

Hotch couldn’t bring himself to believe his last justification. Regardless he submitted wordlessly as JJ grabbed a blanket and pillow from the overhead storage locker and brought them to him. He curled down in his seat, head resting on the pillow/armrest as JJ tucked the blanked around him. He tried not to but couldn’t stop himself from shivering as she was laying down the cheap airplane cover.

“Are you cold,” she asked, her voice again ripe with concern.

“Just a little,” Hotch admitted. “Damn air conditioning.”

As it left his mouth he realized he shouldn’t have said that. No one else was cold. He should have just sucked it up. But he couldn’t take it back and another full body shiver negated any chance he had at pretending he was mistaken.

JJ frowned and grabbed another blanket. They were flimsy things, some synthetic mix and no bigger than 3’x5’ in length. Even tucked up the blankets didn’t cover Hotch. JJ could see his eyes closing and knew even Benadryl didn’t work that fast.

Hotch was sick. Whether he was ready to admit it to himself, she didn’t know. Was he ready to admit it to the team? Definitely not. So she’d do what she could to help him. She walked to the coat locker of the plane and pulled out his long wool coat. Returning to Hotch she lay that over him then covered it with another jet blanket. Hotch was fighting to stay awake, fighting to keep his cover story going.

“You didn’t need to do that Jayje,” he said, though his words were little more than a rumbling whisper.

“I know. Just sleep now. The pills will kick in and you’ll feel much better in a few hours.”

Hotch closed his eyes, relieved that his deception was holding and also touched at JJ’s care. The way she tucked the blankets around him made him feel looked after in a way he couldn’t remember. Maybe in the early days, when he and Haley were doing well. But not in years had he had someone to tuck him in.

His eyes closed and his breathing evened out within minutes. When she was sure he was asleep JJ got up to check on Hotch. In sleep he relaxed his guard and she could hear the congestion in his chest as he breathed. Gently she smoothed a few errant hairs from his forehead, noting the mild warmth beneath her palms.

Looking up she caught Rossi watching her, eyebrow raised in the same questioning manner he had shown Hotch only an hour ago. JJ blushed but looked down, hoping Dave couldn’t see her cheeks as she walked over to meet him. She sat next to him and said,

“I don’t think it’s just allergies.”

“Of course it’s not,” Dave answered. “The whole time i’ve known him I’ve only seen Hotch allergic to cats and crayfish -- and in very different ways,” he finished, smiling. “For the love of God, don’t feed him crayfish.”

Dave smiled at JJ who looked rather drawn, more concerned now that Dave had confirmed her suspicions.

“So he’s sick,” she said finally.

“Yup. But Team leaders don’t get sick, not in his head. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

JJ nodded but still felt unsettled. She cared for that man. Looking over she saw him curled up on the bench, head resting on the pillow she had set out for him. Something in her clenched and she resisted the urge to go to him, to trace the lines of his face with her fingers and stroke his hair, to hum to him softly and let him stay asleep, not waking until whatever evil they were facing had been resolved.

But that’s not how it worked in the BAU. So she popped two Benadryl herself, kicked Reed off the couch (claiming maternal privelege) and cleared her mind, letting the pink pills draw her too into what she hoped was dreamless sleep.

[matilda3948]

Holy Frack! Please just don't ever stop writing this story--just keep going...you know...forever.

[jezebel215]

There are pictures I wished I could include with my story "Not as I Do" so ... here they are (as blurry screen-caps) ...

I hope they give you as much <squee> as I got

[jezebel215]

Honestly, researching the UnSub in my story, the location and the actual forensics ... has kind of taken over my life. The fluff writing for me is ... fun ... but I'm still all caught up in the freakin' 'plot'.

thank-you for commenting! I <3 all your stories. I posted some screen caps ( redundantly cause I was confused) but a couple of them are super cute.

:-)

[flower]

Love this! I'm such a fan of denial and care-taking! Can't wait for more.

[matilda3948]

Oh, these are awesome!!! Hotch all curled up in the chair and JJ and Reid sleeping. It's all very

[LeadaAlexys52]

Need....more....please!!! This is so awesome. I just want to put poor Hotch to bed with some soup.

[SterlingSilver]

I haven't watched much of this series, but I have to say, I'm quite impressed with the characterization here :DD.. This is compelling, and I'm definetly going to sit down and read this all the way through properly when I get a break from school work <3.. Keep up the good work, Jez~!

[jezebel215]

Part 6

She may have slept, JJ thought, though she wasn’t sure. She had lain on the couch for two hours, feeling the diphenhydramine working its way through her. She was torn between a pleasant drowsiness that promised sleep until she was pulled awake, her worry leaving her in draining grogginess. And sleep, if it had come, was not dreamless. If she had slept then she had pulled herself into waking, finding reality less fearful than the scenarios she imagined.

She had stolen glances at Hotch when she thought no one (or at least no one but Rossi) was watching. It brought her some peace that he, at least, seemed to be sleeping.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to work out the ache that seemed to have settled through her. She suspected it wasn’t any physical soreness, just her growing worries and simultaneous efforts to appear unperturbed. Her deception was minimal - merely concealing her true feelings. Hotch was expending energy both to maintain a front he didn’t feel and to disguise his actual feelings. That was -

“Enough,” JJ thought. “I can’t keep thinking this way. I can’t keep imagining what he is feeling. If I do that I can’t maintain my composure and if I can’t do that I can’t help him and am worthless to the team. I can watch out for Hotch and do my job.”

JJ sighed.

“But if I have to choose, I will take care of Hotch.”

With that decision made she felt ready to rise. Looking over she could see Hotch as she had left him - curled improbably on the conference bench, his head seeming to spill over the pillow/arm rest combo. In his sleep he had moved little but still his blankets had slipped. He had pulled up what had slipped and the blankets were askew. Instead of smoothing his blankets it seemed Hotch had tried to fit his body to the slipping blankets - he was even more scrunched than she had left him.

She checked the time, seeing they had about 30 minutes left until landing and decided Hotch would probably like to be woken with enough time to prepare himself for the upcoming assignment. Abandoning her bag walked to the small medical cabinet in the plane wall. She pulled out a bottle of Ibuprofen and grabbed four. Two she palmed quickly, the other she held in clear sight of the team as she walked back into the main cabit. She got a bottle of water and swallowed them.

“Headache?” Emily asked with concern.

“Tired,” JJ asked, allowing a rueful smile to chafe across her face. “I think Henry is on Greenwich Mean Time.”

Emily smiled in response and turned back to her notes. Morgan hadn’t looked up from his notes but she caught Rossi’s eye as she walked again toward Hotch. His gaze was hard to read, it seemed both condescending and comforting.

Hotch was sleeping with his head toward the window, feet tucked up against the armrest by the aisle. JJ wasn’t sure how best to wake him up. She leaned over him and patted his shoulder awkwardly.

“Hotch.”

His eyes opened when he heard her voice and sat up as quickly as his aching body allowed. JJ slid into the seat next to him on the bench and turned to face him.

“How do you feel?” She asked. She didn’t expect a truthful answer but it would be interesting to know which set of lies Hotch had decided to try.

“Much better,” he answered. It would have been more convincing if he hadn’t flinched slightly as he spoke. His voice was rough and he cleared his throat, pretending it was just the dry cabin air.

“That’s good.” JJ answered but as she held his gaze Hotch had the distinct impression that she didn’t believe one word he was saying. Her next action confirmed it. Though she didn’t say anything she held out her hand to him, low, under the level of the table and hidden from the other profilers. Hotch saw two advil and looked up, ready to protest. JJ just raised an eyebrow and he took the pills, swallowing them quickly with the bottle of water she had brought as well.

“I know you’re not fine,” she said softly. “But you’re a big boy and able to make your own decisions. Just promise me you’ll try to take care of yourself and tell me if anything changes.”

Hotch’s cheeks were flushed, from fever or embarassment JJ couldn’t tell. Before she could stop herself she reached up, brushing the back of her hand against his skin. It lingered less than a second and JJ withdrew her hand quickly, feeling suddenly as if she had outstepped her bounds. Even though the team felt like family, he was still her boss.

Hotch barely registered JJ’s actions until he felt her cool skin. It felt good, not just the cooling sensation but to be touched and with such tenderness. And then it was gone. Hotch glanced at JJ and she could feel her own cheeks flare but all he said was “OK.”

JJ smiled. His skin had been warm but not alarmingly so, he was running a low fever but the advil would help with that. She was also a little confused. No part of this interaction had played out the way she expected. Hotch had conceded so quickly she couldn’t decide if he was really going to take it easy or just redouble his efforts to appear fine. She suspected it was the latter.

Her ruminations were interrupted by a gasp from beside her. Hotch’s eyes were half closed and he pulled his hankerchief from his pocked. A final deep breath and he turned away from her, sneezing wetly into his linen-covered hands.

“heh...ehh-Chiew..Eah'Hischue.”

He pinched the end of his nose with the hankerchief but didn’t blow. Another quick wipe and he tucked it back in his pocket. He turned back to JJ.

“Bless you,” she said softly.

“Thank-you.” He sounded drained and vaguely sad. She would have said more until Morgan shouted out,

“Bless you Boss.”

Hearing Morgan flipped a switch in Hotch. Despite the degree of openness he could show JJ he wasn’t ready for the whole team to know he was sick. So it was time to stop feeling sick and start feeling awesome. Hotch nodded to Morgan who then returned to his headphones. Hotch started folding up blankets and laid the folder open in front of him. He stared at it intently but made no move to speak and JJ took that as her dismissal. She stood up saying ‘I’ll leave you to your work.” Hotch nodded but didn’t look up. He knew if he looked up JJ would see right through him and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

So he read through the file and resolutely ignored every signal from his body that heralded illness. Instead of trying to fight his illness, maybe he should deny it’s existence. Hotch almost smiled. It probably wouldn’t work but he decided in that moment he was no longer sick. He was Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner and he was here to get the bad guys.

Edited April 7, 2012 by jezebel215

[Evergreen]

awww. poor little hotch! do you watch HIMYM? because that line about starting to feel awesome instead reminds me of barney: "when i start feeling sick, I just stop being sick and be awesome instead". lmao. i can't wait to see where this goes. i'll start working on your fic today, but i'd love to know any ideas you have or things you want me to incorporate so i can make sure you like it!

[jezebel215]

yes, it was a HIMYM reference :-)

also... I realize I have 114 pages of notes / references and have only written 14 pages. I get so stuck in the moment, wanting to feel everything.

So, although I have mapped out and semi structured investigation (complete with unsub motivation, geographic profiling, local ecology, serial killer research, forensic entomology....)

it may take a long time to get where I want to be. But I'll keep plucking away

Edited April 8, 2012 by jezebel215

[matilda3948]

I just love this! The interactions are just wonderful.

[jezebel215]

Part 7

“Reid, Morgan, you’ll go to the site where they found the body. Prentiss, Rossi - the coroner. JJ - you’re with me. We’ll coordinate with local law enforcement and set up a command center.”

It was nearly noon in Minnesota but felt like one’o’clock to the team. Following Hotch’s directives the team split into groups and headed out into the field. Hotch was torn. He would have liked to partner with Reid - the young genius was often oblivious to things around him and Hotch thought he could disguise his illness better; but JJ was a magician in setting things up with the local cops. And they had an agreement, sort of, kind of.

Hotch flushed thinking of their conversation on the plane. He was mortified that he was so transparent to JJ, though the rest of the team, sans Rossi, seemed to buy his act. The advil he had taken on the plane was doing little to relieve his symptoms and Hotch shivered as they climbed out of the jet. Morgan and Reid were already driving off in a black jeep while Prentiss and Dave stopped for a moment to check in before heading over to the coroner.

“Our primary concern is identifying the victim and learning about the teeth,” Hotch said. “Obviously any other details about the body are important but for now, victim ID and establishing the UnSub’s MO are paramount.”

There were no smiles, only nods of assent and then Rossi and Prentiss were gone too, leaving only JJ and Hotch. JJ didn’t say anything, just looked at Hotch, her eyes open and eyebrows raised in expectation.

“We’ll go downtown,” he replied somewhat tersely. “And thanks, for the advil.” The last statement was added as an afterthought but it was a good idea. Hotch pulled his heavy coat tightly around him as he fought the wind, climbing the few steps out of the plane. When they reached the Jeep he handed JJ the keys and walked nonchalantly to the passenger door, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Ordinarily, Hotch drove. It was just one of those boss things, something that he did. So for him to hand over the keys without even a question - JJ couldn’t tell if he was being responsible and taking care of himself or merely saving his energy for further deception.

Enough. It was hard enough to profile the UnSub without profiling her boss at the same time.

~.~.~.~.~.~

“enNK'Guschue.”

“Enough Pretty Boy. You said you were all better.”

Reid sniffed indignantly. “I’m fide. There is something in the air here which is provoking an inflammatory histamine response in my upper respiratory tract.”

Morgan stared at him blankly.

“I’m allergic to something,” Reid clarified then pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose noisily.

“Well, don’t come down with pneumonia on my watch. Garcia would flay me alive.” Morgan spoke with a smile but also with genuine concern. He looked up to see Reid stifling another sneeze into his elbow.

“Hhh-Eksht.”

“And don’t blow out your eardrums while you’re at it.

Reid glared at his partner than pulled a bottle of antihistamines from his messenger bag.

“It would have been nice if someone had warned me this was ragwhee--” his breath caught. “Whee..eh..hehe..Eah'Hischue.. Ragweed season in Minnesota,” He finished with another honking blow into his tissues.

“Thought you knew everything already, boy genius.”

Reid had no clever answer so he kept silent and sniffled angrily. It took about 25 minutes to reach the dump site and by the time they were there he was feeling a lot better. They parked in a gravel lot and were met by a harried looking employee and a deputy.

“The body was found about 10 minutes walk this way,” the man spat out, already walking down a dirt path. It wove through strands of trees, laden with apples in varying stages of ripeness before ending in a stand of low trees. The branches were weighed down with clusters of bloodshot orbs, apples which cried out to be picked.

“Here. In the Honeycrisps.” The man from the orchard seemed unhappy with the whole proceedings. Which was fair, since it was unlikely this notoriety would increase demand for family fun outings.

“Did you know the Honeycrisp apple was cultivated for hardiness under winter conditions? It is described as ‘exceptionally crisp and juicy’ and has a prolonged shelf life?”

Reid’s ability to spout facts was not hindered by his continually dripping nose. He rubbed it with the tissues clutched in his hand and continued,

“Though not the largest nor reddest, the Honeycrisp produces reliable mid-to-late autumnal harvests with a coarse, creamy flesh. The amount of sun the trees receive determines the quantity of redness in the final skin. Judging by these apples this area of the orchard has been well lit.”

“That would be the purpose in the planting,” the man from the orchard spoke up. “Quality apples nearly year round. Best you’ll find in a hundred miles.”

Reid opened his mouth, ready to reply but Morgan interrupted,

“And idea why the body was left here?”

“No sir. And really, there are better places to hide a body.”

That statement earned stares from Morgan and Reid.

“I just mean, the Honeycrisp is a fall apple. If I were going to hide a body I’d put it with the sapplings, or the even the Viking or the Duchess apples - they ripened two months ago, hardly anyone goes there now except to tend the trees.”

“So the UnSub dumped the body someplace he knew it would be found. Not on display exactly but he knew it would be found within a week.”

The group stopped walking as they reached a stand of trees not unlike the hundred they had passed. The ground here, however, was trod down to dirt and yellow crime scene tape outlined a rough trapezoid. The air echoed with a few “Kowwwww” calls and looking around Reid saw a few crows in the branches.

“Though omnivorous, Corvidae are not generally opportunistic fruitivores. They are scavengers and it is unlikely to find so many of them in one place without an obvious protein-rich food source.”

Morgan looked disbelievingly at Reid.

“There was a food source.”

~.~.~.~.~.

[Evergreen]

holy crap! so good! you are an AMAZING writer and so detail-oriented. this is so realistic and true to character. mine might not be so detailed, but i'm working on getting you a fic. stupid real life getting in the way of my writing! haha.