Acting on impulse, you show up at your boss, Aaron Hotchner's, doorstep in the middle of the night. The resulting night of passion kickstarts a timeline of events you never could've imagined. Crazy how one night could cause so much pain and pleasure.
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"Open the door," The unsub commands. Hotch reaches forward and opens the heavy metal door at the back of the club. He walks both of you out before forcefully shoving you forward. "You stay over there." He wheels around to aim his gun at Hotch. It shouldn't be long before the team shows up. You had turned both of the earpieces back on after leaving the bathroom. They're hearing all this. They're coming for you guys. No one's going to get hurt.
At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.
You know that Hotch has a gun in his ankle holster, but in the time it would take for him to reach down and draw his weapon, the unsub will surely kill him. You can read the unsub's body language. He's frantic. His hands shake at his sides. The team's profile was right, he's devolving. There's not much time before he will take out Hotch and then turn his attention on you.
The unsub points the gun at Hotch before whirling to you and then back to Hotch, "What does he have that I don't? Why do you want him instead of me?"
"Because I didn't see you," You try, "I saw him first."
"I danced with you just like everyone else," The unsub's hand is trembling as he keeps moving between you and Hotch, never giving Hotch an opening to draw his gun.
You feel sick to your stomach. The thought of the unsub trailing his hands over your body and you... you let him. Hotch was right. You didn't have to dance like that with everyone. You didn't have to draw quite so much attention.
Deep down, however, you knew it would rile Hotch up. You knew it would make him jealous. You wanted him to dominate you. You wanted him angry. Now that all seems so immature. So ridiculous. You sacrificed your morals, and for what? To get fucked in a dirty club bathroom? To hear Aaron Hotchner call you a dirty slut?
"You didn't see me because you just wanted a man like him," He directs the gun back in Hotch's direction. "A suit. A muscle man. They're worthless, you know that? They can't treat you right. Not that a whore like you deserves anything."
Your words fail you. Normally, just like everyone else on the team, you have no problem talking the unsub down. Watching him point the gun at Hotch renders you more speechless than usual for one specific reason. Hotch doesn't even flinch for a second as the unsub stalks towards him, touching the barrel of his gun to Hotch's forehead.
"I don't want him. I want you," You let out, seeing the moment as your window of opportunity. You rush towards the unsub and he does exactly what you expect. He turns his attention to you.
"You're just a worthless whore." He reels his hand back, hitting your face hard with the butt of his gun. You collapse to the ground, scraping up your knees and hands. Within an instant, you hear shots ring out, the unsub falling just a few inches away from you.
His eyes lock with yours, his face contorted and riddled with pain. You swear you see him smirk for a second before life leaves his eyes. His cold dead eyes remain trained on you while you catch your breath, pushing yourself to a sitting position. You see Hotch with his gun raised, face scrunched into anger, eyes trained on the unsub.
