𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝔁 {Aaron Hotchner}

two

Gianna

Ring! Ring! Ring!

I roll groggily over to grab my phone and end up falling out of bed. "Ow, fuck" I cry out as I reach up to the nightstand and answer. "Hello"

Hey, sweetheart.

Dad.

"Hey, dad. What's up" I greet trying my best to sound coherent, though, as I look at the clock on my bedside table I see that it's 2 in the afternoon.

Just saw you were in town.

"Yeah, I was just about to call you and ask if you wanted to meet up for brunch" I mention but he's quick to retort Yeah, as soon as you woke up.

Absolutely right, sir.

"Very funny. How about tomorrow" I offer and he pauses for a second before agreeing

Sounds good. Why don't you stop by the Bureau and we'll go from here?

Me? At the Bureau?

"Uhh...yeah, sure" I agree begrudgingly but he seems happy so I just go with it.

See you tomorrow.

* * *

I wait for the elevator to take me up to the sixth floor where Dad told me to meet him and my fingers drum impatiently against my thigh.

Ding!

Finally, geez.

I step out of the elevator and through the glass doors that read Behavioral Analysis Unit. There's not much activity, just mainly people sitting behind desks scribbling on papers.

"Hi, can I help you" asks a very cute, tall guy with brown curls and sweet hazel eyes. "Oh, you're Gianna" he seems to recognize me and I just flash the smile I use for fans who ask for selfies.

"Yeah, that's me" I chirp and he mentions "I'm Spencer. Dr. Spencer Reid" so I nod and hold my hand out to shake. "Gianna Moretti" I introduce myself but he glances at my outstretched hand and explains "Did you know that a handshake exchanges significantly more germs than..."

I cut him off and offer "How about a fist bump, then" already knowing the statistics which makes him smile widely. We fist bump and his cheeks flush pink a bit as I explain "More germs than a high-five or a fist bump, which is your safest bet."

His eyebrows raise in surprise before he asks "Were you looking for Rossi" and I nod wondering how he knew that "You were on the cover of a magazine...you were big talk around here last week" he explains.

Great.

"All good things, I hope" I breathe as he gestures for me to follow him and he walks me through the cubicles. "Do you really have a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology" he asks abruptly and I stop to look at him with furrowed eyebrows as my face scrunches in confusion.

"Uh, yes" I answer strangely and he seems to notice so he quickly explains "Rossi told us yesterday."

Of course he did.

"Yeah, but you don't need to call me Doctor or anything" I assure him but his head tilts in confusion and he asks "Are you not proud of it?" We stop at the bottom of a set of stairs and I explain "I am, but I just like keeping my private life to myself" so he nods mentioning "Yeah, I profiled that about you."