Cracking The Case

Chapter Four

* Trigger warning- Sexual assault

Was it weird or just screwed up that you were turned on? That was the main question running through your brain as you stood in Hotch's house, both looking into each other's eyes.

You were way too drunk to care about repercussions at this point so you took a few steps closer to him, and to your surprise, he stepped backward, matching your pace.

You furrowed your brows, silently asking why he would leave you high and dry at this point. Well, not dry, but you knew it was probably obvious that you were turned on by this point.

"Y/N, we can't do this," Hotch spoke up, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his composure.

"What?'

"I'm you're boss, I'm recently divorced, and you're drunk," Hotch stated, seemingly trying to convince himself more than you.

"Um, okay, but what do you mean by doing this?" 

Hotch paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "We can't be together with Y/N."

Woah. Woah. WOAH! What the fuck was he talking about? He's the one that kissed you! You certainly weren't here to fuck your boss, no matter how hot he was. You were here to put him in his place for all the crap he was pulling.

"Excuse me? You kissed me, Aaron," you argued, getting angry again, "I came here to get you to stop breathing down my neck at work, but you went and decided to come on to me!"

"And you kissed me back! Or are we just going to blame everything on me like you do at work?" Hotch retorted, confusion and anger swirling in his eyes. Whatever lust that you had seen before was gone now.

"I blame everything on you?!" you yelled, drunkenly storming towards him, getting up in his face.

"Yes Y/N, and that's what you came here to do, you came here to put me in my place, well head's up sweetheart, I'm your boss, and I don't care if you think I'm an ass because I'm doing my job. I expect you to do the same and respect me as your superior."

Standing this close to him would make it easy to punch him in the face like you had been wishing you could do for weeks now, but you held back, for the sake of your job.

"Fuck you, Aaron," you said, before turning around and storming out the door, with Hotch shouting for you to come back as you went.

"Y/N please get back inside, you're drunk and it's late," Hotch pleaded, "At least let me call you a cab?"

You didn't dignify his requests with a response, you simply flipped him the bird as you began your walk down unfamiliar dark streets.

After about an hour of walking, you realized how fucked you were. 

You were wasted as hell, walking around a neighborhood you didn't know, holding a dead cellphone. With your luck, a random unsub would come and kidnap you, maybe even kill you.

"Hey, are you okay?" you heard someone say from behind you.

Turning around, you saw it was one of your old coworkers from the FBI, Agent Logan Davis.

"Oh thank god, I'm saved," you mumbled, slurring your words to the point of sounding like a toddler.

Logan smirked, opening his passenger's side door and gesturing you to get in, "Hop in Y/N."

You obliged immediately, ignoring the way his eyes trailed up and down your body as you got in his car, "Thanks."

Logan smiled, and then closed the door walking around to get in himself. You didn't even care where you were going as your eyes closed, too tired to keep them open anymore.