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kitkatt0430 · 11 months

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Alrighty, now that I've taunted my dog (mostly unintentionally) with popcorn, time for Episode #12 of the final season of the Flash.

Starts with a trippy recap of Eddie's breakdown as he finally remembers who he really is. Korber hanging out with him for now as the voice of reason which he rejects. She's got a point - he could be a clone or a cyborg.

Eddie - I need to find the Flash.

He's still keeping Barry's secret there. Anyway, this is how Westhallen can still win... *he has to find Iris when he starts to remember her, then has to find Barry after remembering him... Westhallen, Westhallen, Westhallen...*

When Korber tries to stop Eddie, the singularity from the S1 finale comes back briefly to eat her. That, uh... that made no sense. But, okay, moving on, opening credits time.

Khione and Iris playing telephone via Allegra. That's gotta be a bit annoying for Iris.

SF!Nora giving more exposition. 2049 must be when Eddie is since the N!SF is clearly gearing him up for the open avatar position and it's headed that way, dragging Barry along for the ride. How exactly killing the Barry Allen of 2023 in the year 2049 would destroy the timeline as it stands from 2000 to 2023 I have no idea, but it wouldn't be the first time they've had an evil plot that makes no sense nearly erase Barry from existence, so... *shrug*

So it's 2049 and everyone appears to have stopped aging. Cecile has a touch of gray hair in like... two small places. Maybe. Allegra's got a track suit as her super suit. I mean, better than a rainbow robe, but... she looks like she bought it at a sporting goods store.

Chester - Who would suspect Team Flash works under the Flash Museum? Cut to Eddie looking for Barry in the museum.

lol

Though, seriously, the museum was originally HR's idea. I miss him. It was a good idea. And I'm glad someone - Chester, I suppose - finally went through with it at some point.

Poor Eddie, finding out that his death didn't stop the Reverse Flash from returning while at the museum. Blonde!Nora who shows up to further screw with Eddie's mind is clearly the N!SF appearing for him. Not exactly creative, but the N!SF is showing Eddie something that's Barry's - a daughter he had with Iris - and saying 'what if this was yours? She should have been yours, after all.'

And there's the singularity again, created by the N!SF Nora. (So many Noras...)

I do love that real Nora recognizes Eddie on sight.

Allegra - Why is he here and why hasn't he aged a day? Me - You're one to talk. It's been about twenty-five years, you look like you're still in your twenties.

Eddie opening the singularities in moments of high emotion makes sense - I like the comparison to that time Chester was a black hole.

Eddie's expression when Nora's mask comes off... heartbreaking since the N!SF manipulated him into seeing her as his daughter first. He's having such a terrible day.

Meanwhile back at the ranch (2023), Mark professes his love of Barry Allen. I don't ship it.

Nora is the next victim of the N!SF's cobalt blue crystal of evilness. Which makes the most sense out of everyone it's possessed so far. Nora 1.0 actually used the N!SF at one point, which could be a point of vulnerability for Nora 2.0 since the N!SF has familiarity with her mind.

And of course, Nora's the perfect person to keep manipulating Eddie with - after all, just the image of her earlier was nearly enough to get Eddie to follow her into the singularity.

Past Cecile possessing her future self was nifty, but of course it goes wrong because of her confidence issues.

N!SF possessing Nora and harping on Eddie being forgotten by history despite how obvious it isn't he hasn't been forgotten. Not by the police force or Team Flash or by the people who loved him most. But I can also see why Eddie is struggling to see that - because it's hard feeling left behind, like they all moved on and had amazing lives and his stopped before he achieved all the things he wanted in his life.

Korber, the rookie, is Captain of the CCPD and maybe that's something Eddie wanted for himself when he was a Detective. He loved Iris and they were going to get married, but now she's married to Barry instead. Nora is representative of that relationship leading to at least one kid (where is Bart, anyway?) and the museum shows how Barry's legacy as the Flash has only continued to grow. For Eddie, everything stopped in a single moment, in a choice he can't take back but wishes he could.

With all that regret, it's hard for him to see how all the good he did do still lives on.

And Eddie is still trying to resist the N!SF's manipulations.

Barry arrives! Just in time for N!SF to use Nora to kick his ass. But Eddie interrupts and Barry runs off with Eddie. Soooo happy to see Eddie. HUGS!!!!

Look, seriously, this is how Westhallen can still win!!!

Eddie calls him Bar, I've missed that. (still chanting 'Westhallen' mentally, mmkay)

Eddie finally feeling safe enough to break down crying because Barry's there with him. He'd been looking for Barry because Barry would know what to do. And now, finally, he's found Barry and they start piecing together what's happening.

okay, so 2049 is when Jenna isn't gonna be living with Cecile and Joe anyway, so what's to say Joe isn't going back and forth between Central City and the other place with Cecile anyway? Cecile is freaking out over something she has no real context for. Though I think this backs up my comments from previous episodes where I noted Cecile would be happier if she'd left with Joe and Jenna and only commuted for her lawyer work.

Eddie - What if the only way for me not to die is to agree to be the avatar. Barry - no, we'll find a way to save you. Not letting you die again.

Eddie listening to the voices in his head instead of Barry. Oh, yeah, that'll go over well.

So, Eddie high on the N!SF's corruption sounds a hell of a lot like Eobard. Which brings me back to the question of whether Eobard is the way he is because the N!SF corrupted him or if the N!SF is the way it is because it patterned itself after it's creator. Clearly it's corrupting Eddie into being more like Eobard.

Barry vs possessed Nora is an awesome fight to watch. They're just playing tag all over the city.

Aww, "It's me. Your Eddie."

Iris with the gray in her hair. Why is she the only one allowed to age?

I mean... I get that artificially aging actors always winds up looking ridiculous, but not aging them makes it look like they found the fountain of youth. There has to be some kind of balance...

Eddie still wants to do the right thing at this point, even if it means dying again. He just wanted to see Iris one last time. But the N!SF takes advantage of that, causing him to see the picture change and... Eddie's real self gets subsumed by the corruption. Like a switch flipped.

Cecile finally got to be badass on screen. Finally.

So Iris saying it was always Barry is completely opposite of the choice Iris made in S1. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Iris choose Eddie over Barry in S1. Even knowing how she felt about Barry at the end of the season, she chose Eddie.

Denying that now insults S1 Iris' choice. It's making Iris say that yes, everyone knew better than her what her own feelings were. And as someone who has had people claim to know my feelings better than I do over and over again over the years, I really, really hate that. They weren't right with me and Iris should be allowed to say that she knew her own mind too. That she chose Eddie. But he died and she moved on and the life she has now is also one she chose. And one that she'll fight to keep because it's hers.

okay, so the timeline destructing finally makes sense, mostly

Barry - You're as beautiful as the day we got married. Iris - I haven't seen you like this in so long. It's weird.

*snicker* Though, uh, no one else has aged, so I wouldn't think 2049 Barry has either.

Oh, hey, there goes Barry getting yoinked through time again.

Eddie gets one final temptation and gives in to the crystal to deliberately open a singularity. Apparently to summon up four speedsters whom Barry defeated before. The ghosts of failed speedsters past, or whatever.

Thus endeth the episode.

I'm not sure how well Eddie's feelings of entitlement towards Iris actually work for me? I mean... in S1, the person who acted the most entitled towards Iris was... Barry. And Barry's grown up a lot since then. I mean, Eddie's mind screw works pretty well over all, but it wasn't in S1 Eddie to force Iris to be with him if that isn't what she wanted. And that should be where the N!SF fails with Eddie and has to backtrack. That it's where it succeeds instead...

It kinda feels like they're slamming an Eddie shaped puzzle piece into a picture that it doesn't actually fit.

I am still wondering what's up with the blue flowers. O_o

I think I'm also disappointed that the Cobalt Blue we seem to be getting is in name only.

We've got the Cobalt Blue Crystal of EVIL which just... possess people. Eddie seems to have power over the singularities, which he likely received with the accelerator exploded but weren't triggered until his death.

Cobalt Blue, however, had the power of the Thawne family blue flames. These could heal, create temporary objects from the flames, or temporarily steal powers from other metas. Malcolm used those powers to attempt to steal Barry's speed at least once, though there was a gem involved in that so the N!SF's crystal is likely a reference to that. But overall... this isn't really Cobalt Blue we seem to be getting. And I'm not surprised given what spoilers I've seen, but I'm still bummed about it.

One episode left to go.

#kitkatt0430 watches #the flash #season 9 #season 9 spoilers #s09e12 #a new world: changes

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codename-mom · 6 months

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Collision (AU)

Summary: A brand-new BAU is forming but there is still someone missing. The team masterpiece: a technical analyst. But one day, Erin Strauss calls Hotch in her office. She may have found the perfect candidate. Or maybe not.

Characters: Erin Strauss, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan

Contents: TW mention of parents death, of drug use and of everything the BAU is working on.

This is a text written for the CM Meet Cute challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

PPS: Why I add "AU" after the title you may ask? Because I used to write the texts of Code Name: Mom during my first watch of CM. So, when I imagined that scene, I haven't seen the Black Queen episode yet and I worked with the tiny pieces of information we had to figure out their first encounter. Then I saw S09E12 and this text didn't fit the canon anymore. But I still love the dialogue between those idiots and the scene, so here it is.

___

Erin Strauss pressed the buttons on her landline telephone and, with a few curt words, summoned one of the residents of Quantico’s sixth floor. She hung up as soon as she had gave the order and waited. A few minutes later, a giant in a strict suit framed himself on her doorstep, eyebrows furrowed.

“What is it?” asked Aaron Hotchner as he entered the room.

The two FBI agents glared fiercely at the other, ready to leap at each other’s throats at the first opportunity, but communicated in surprisingly calm tones. She distrusted this man, who was more rebellious than his austere appearance suggested, and he hated being told what to do. Then, the two had been fighting like cat and dog since they first met. Most of the time, however, they both knew how to put aside their differences to get the job done properly.

“Do you still need a technical analyst for your team?” she asked him, matter-of-factly.

“Yes. More than ever. Why?”

The Behavioral Analysis Unit had been founded by two men, Jason Gideon and David Rossi, a few years earlier, with the aim of tracking down sociopaths and other serial killers, in particular by establishing their psychological profile based on the victims they had left behind, but also their modus operandi, the weapons used or even the crime scene. It was a complex discipline, requiring a great deal of knowledge on many subjects, and that was still disparaged.

But the results were there, and Bureau headquarters authorized the two men to expand the team. They had picked up a young federal prosecutor who had assisted Dave on one of his investigations. After a meeting with the woman who would become his wife, the man accepted the offer and flew off to join them. Intelligent, serious, meticulous, attentive to detail and endowed with excellent self-control, the recruit had integrated perfectly into the duo, and his fresh outlook had enabled them to envisage a new shape for the agency.

However, the disastrous conclusion of a business deal and personal worries had pushed Gideon and Rossi, respectively, towards the exit, and they had to entrust the helm of the ship to the last survivor of the crew. Bombarded as director at the age of thirty-nine, he immediately put into practice the plan he had devised for the brand-new BAU. He had recruited a former Chicago policeman with a wanderlust, then added two young people with disparate profiles: a poised, tenacious and empathetic woman who would act as liaison officer, and a multi-graduate student with an elephantine memory but a social misfit.

Nevertheless, the final piece of the puzzle was still missing: a technical analyst. A computer expert capable of probing all databases at lightning speed to extract just the essentials, but also of dissecting all the evidence passing through a computer – video, audio tracks, photographs. A particularly difficult nugget to find, given the scarcity of skills required for this position.

“We may have someone for you, Strauss announced, stepping out from behind her desk. Please follow me.”

Hotch frowned, doubtful, but walked in her footsteps. They took the elevator that had brought him to this floor and went back down a few levels. Then they entered a dull corridor bathed in an eerie silence. This was where suspects apprehended by the FBI were brought.

“Here's her file, continued the section chief, placing the documents on his chest. You'll have time to read it before making your final decision, but I'll give you a summary.”

“Thank you,” he answered coldly.

Without waiting for her to begin, he opened the cardboard sleeve and the round face of a bespectacled blonde appeared at the top left of an annotated sheet.

“Her name is Penelope Garcia, and she's a hacker who's been hanging around on the street more or less since her parents died in a car accident, Erin told him without a hint of emotion in her voice. She was eighteen then, twenty-six now.”

“If you've caught her, she may not be as good as you think," he said, reading the information gathered about her at an angle.

“Or she did it on purpose.”

“What do you mean?” he frowned, raising his nose.

“Hacker’s world is small. They all know that us, CIA, army, etc., we hire some of them because they're ultimately much more efficient than the IT people who are trained for the job.”

Strauss rolled her eyes in dismay at this realization. Using criminals to entrap others was totally beyond her, notwithstanding their often unique faculties. Next to her, Aaron, a man of the field, had a less Manichean view of things. Since he'd been in the business, he'd had time to notice that the men and women they put behind bars weren't necessarily bloodthirsty, ruthless monsters. On a contrary. Between those who'd simply fallen off the wagon due to a string of mishaps, those who'd once let their anger get the better of their reason, and those who'd failed to deal with childhood traumas, it was sometimes difficult to blame the wrongdoers for what they'd done.

As so, the possibility of integrating a virtual outlaw into his team didn't bother him all that much. Provided he – or rather, she, in this case – has the skills compatible with his project. He turned a few pages to access the summary of her exactions. He discovered a long list of feats of arms that ran across several sheets, both sides. The young woman had wandered from institution to institution, jumping over firewalls as if they'd never existed, browsing here and there, before emerging again, sometimes leaving little messages of thanks. Her targets were highly diversified, ranging from multinationals to ultra-secure establishments, as well as national and even regional companies. However, he quickly noted that there was a common denominator to all her attacks. Except the last one, the one that had dragged her into the walls of Quantico.

“Interesting resume, he said, closing the file. Did she say why she did it?”

“To know the truth about Lady Di’s death,” threw his neighbor, without any conviction.

“You don’t buy it?”

“Of course not. To go to all this trouble just for that, it's ridiculous!" she stormed in a condescending tone.

Unlike him, his superior was a bureaucrat. Where he saw tormented individuals, injured personnel or equipment crucial to the survival of his people, Erin saw numbers, numbers and more numbers. He spoke of efficiency, she replied: profitability. Two discourses that regularly clashed and only served to further inflame their dissensions.

“You would be surprised," he retorted, repressing the sneer that curled at the edge of his lips.

“There she is.”

When they reached a one-way mirror, the agents could see the subject of their conversation in the flesh, without her seeing them. Sitting on a chair behind a table to which she was handcuffed, she faced two men in dark suits who seemed to be pestering her with questions. The prisoner had long blond and supple hair, which had obviously known better days, just like her clothes whose bright colors had been faded by a long exposure to light, dust, perspiration and lack of maintenance. Pale-skinned, with drawn features, she had dark circles under her eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed, she was on the defensive.

“She’s using,” noted Hotch, taking up the toxicology report attached to the second page of her file.

“Not for the past three weeks.”

“Since you captured her, that is.”

Erin nodded, her mouth pursed. Despite the glass divider between the two women, the director found it hard to hide her revulsion. Aaron felt like reminding her that it wasn't contagious, but restrained himself. He preferred to take a closer look at this young woman who, though frightened, didn't utter a word. Drops of sweat beaded down her chubby face and her arms shook intermittently, as if she were cold. On her bare forearms, he saw scratch marks attesting to the fact that she had been frantically rubbing her skin for the past few days.

“She’s in withdrawal.”

“But she's lucid and doesn't crave her fix, Strauss revealed, her tone softening somewhat, which might mean she wasn't all that hooked.”

“You think she let herself be captured to get out of all this.”

“Could be.”

If this was the case, it proved, in effect, that she was aware of how dangerous this activity was, and that she had no intention of getting caught up in this downward spiral, the outcome of which was rarely positive. Whatever she had consumed, she had no intention of clinging to it, but rather was looking for a way to get as far away from it as possible. It was an undeniable sign of intelligence, but Hotch suddenly doubted whether this objective would be successful if she were to accept his proposal. It all depended, in fact, on her strength of character.

“Can I talk to her?”

“Be my guest.”

Strauss knocked on the glass and the two agents inside froze before leaving the room. They said nothing and walked off down the corridor with the same energetic step. Aaron pressed the door handle and entered the padded room.

Penelope, relieved to see the two tough guys leave, tensed as this new guy in a suit and tie introduced himself to her. From where she was, he looked gigantic, and she wondered how he'd managed to get in without hitting his head. Brows furrowed, face closed, dark eyes staring at her unblinkingly, the man seemed to her to have as much emotion as a frying pan. She didn't know anything about the FBI hierarchy, but her instincts told her that this guy was much higher up than the first two. An irrepressible urge to run away jumped to her throat, but she could only shrink back in her chair as he came to sit opposite her.

“What’s your name?” he questioned her, without a hint of animosity in his voice.

Hotch saw the pirate's brown irises dip to the cardboard sleeve he'd placed in front of him, then return in his direction.

“… You have my file, so surely you already know this information," she replied, raising her eyebrows.

It wasn't irony or a snide attack, she was simply reminding him of the obvious. Although impressed by his presence, she wasn't as terrified as she might have been. She was more intrigued than anything. Which was just as well, because he wasn't there to gave her the third degree, but to open the doors to a potential future.

“I know it, yes, but I thought it would be a good start to a conversation.”

His interlocutor observed her opposite for a while without saying a word. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about this agent that set him apart from the others she'd come across. There was no smugness, no repulsion or no malice about him. He looked at her as any human being should look at another. They clearly didn't come from the same world, but that didn't seem to matter to him. And she guessed that behind that icy mask was someone far more sympathetic. The question was how deep to dig to bring it out.

“… Penelope Garcia. You?”

“Aaron Hotchner, he answered with no hesitation. Do you know where you are?”

“Unless the guys who drove me here had fake accreditation, I must be in the FBI basement. Well, in a manner of speaking, since we climbed three flights of stairs from the parking lot.”

She talked a lot and fast, without any stress in her voice. This was obviously her usual way of expressing herself, a sign of a lively, voluble personality. It wasn't very much in line with house policy, but given the position she would occupy – if she were to accept – it wouldn't be a problem.

“… I'm the manager of a rather unusual team, and we need a fast, efficient technical analyst.”

Penelope’s fine eyebrows furrowed. He delivered his speech in an even tone. The man was straight to the point, clear and concise, articulating very distinctly. She let her gaze run over him. Stiff as a stick, clean-shaven, his dark hair was cut short, his fingernails perfectly filed, his tie ideally knotted, his suit tailor-made. If he hadn't been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had learned to imitate to perfection those who had been so lucky. But unlike the latter, which were often untrue, he didn't seem to want to bother with convolutions and leg-pulling to get what he wanted. A good point for him, from her point of view.

“And you think I will do the trick?" she inquired, curious.

“It depends.”

“Of what?”

“Whether or not you let yourself be captured.”

“What do you think?”

“What I think has no importance. It’s your answer that does matter.”

“Who says I’d tell the truth.”

“It’s my job.”

They had conducted this dialogue at full speed, replying to each other's answers in a matter of seconds, and were now taking advantage of the silence to gauge their adversary. Hotch thought she was testing the waters, gleaning as much information as possible before stepping forward; which was a perfectly understandable attitude. The hacker was in fact trying to assess the danger of the path the agent was blazing ahead of her, trying to project herself alongside this character who used his muscles sparingly. Since he'd come in and taken his place on the chair, the only part of his anatomy that had moved was his mouth. Everything else, from his fingers intertwined on the table to his eyelids, had not wavered. The guy had gone statuesque in a split second. It's a good thing she could see him breathing, otherwise she'd have doubted he was human. Meanwhile, she still didn't know what she might be walking into.

“… What do you mean by “rather unusual team”?”

“My team is responsible for tracking down serial killers, sociopaths, rapists and arsonists across the country, in collaboration with local authorities,” he revealed, direct.

Given what lay ahead, Aaron preferred to be as frank as possible with her. He didn't know how much empathy she had for complete strangers, but from what he'd glimpsed in her file – and from what he understood of the reasons for her actions – she was far from being heartless. But the situations she was about to face were anything but trivial. Which she was beginning to understand, as he saw her swallow and turn a little pale.

“And… what I am supposed to do?”

“Analyze all the data we retrieve, conduct real-time searches on all platforms and databases, probably over several years.”

“Data. What kind of data?”

“Videos, photos, audio files, he continued, you'll see people killed, raped and tortured on a daily basis in conditions you've probably never imagined.”

A leaden blanket fell over Penelope's shoulders. The functions of the FBI were manifold and covered many areas of everyday American life: from taxes to cybercrime, from intelligence to criminal investigations. Clearly, she'd fallen on the hardest branch of all, one on which, had she been given the chance, she'd never have put a foot wrong. Chilled by this revelation, she spoke out:

“Looks like a dream.”

“I prefer to be honest, he admitted without a shudder. It's not about numbers, it's about confronting the worst that humans can do.”

He saw her dodge his gaze, biting her lower lip. Her eyes cocked to one side, she weighed up the pros and cons of his proposal, surely considering what she was capable of withstanding emotionally and psychologically. Her life hadn't been particularly simple, and she'd had to see and experience things that many wouldn't want to endure, but that was no match for what he and his team witnessed day-to-day. At least, he hoped for her. Suddenly, her irises returned to him, escaped, then fixed themselves again on his face. Her mouth twisted like a worm on asphalt. Hotch imagined that she was in the middle of a discussion with herself or preparing her next line, silently rehearsing her words to make sure she didn't make a blunder.

“… Can I ask you something?” she did, blushing.

“Go on.”

“Will I end up like you?”

“Meaning?”

“You're the closest thing we have to an iceberg.”

Aaron had to concentrate to keep his eyelids from widening. He had expected everything but this. He had mentally prepared answers to all the technical, administrative, and legal questions, but had never imagined that he would be attacked on his appearance. He already knew that he had a reputation for being someone devoid of emotion, even frightening, even to the other residents of Quantico, so he wasn't surprised that she thought the same; he was disturbed by this surprisingly brave move. This dirty, ragged little woman had the guts to say out loud what all the feds, here and abroad, barely dared to say in hushed tones. A self-assurance that hits the bull’s eye.

“… It’s the suit.”

He had probably tried to hide it, but Penelope saw the brief sneer that had lifted the corner of his lips. A crack in his shell that made the young woman laugh despite her interlocutor's newfound seriousness. She was right: he wasn't the terror he was trying to make himself out to be. On a contrary. Underneath that jacket, shirt and T-shirt, there was a tender, beating heart; and under that ebony hair, a well-built head that wasn't bothered by convention. And, contrary to what she had expected, she didn't have to dig very far to find the treasure. So she already knew that if she needed him, he'd be there to catch her.

“Okay, she replied, relieved. I’ve got another question.”

“I’m listening.”

“Is there a dress code to observe?”

From his slanted reading, Hotch recalled that, among her personal effects, there was a non-negligible quantity of barrettes, elastics, bracelets, and earrings. Almost all of them knock-off, but flashy and eye-catching, in a wide range of gaudy colors and topped with rhinestones and other frills. A wardrobe choice that didn't fit in with Bureau standards at all, but reflected her playful personality. Then he thought of Strauss, behind the glass, who sometimes felt that appearances were more crucial than results, and a smile formed in his mind.

“No. As long as you come dressed-up.”

Garcia nodded, reassured not to have to wear a sad, bland suit.

“How much time I have to decide?”

“It’s up to you. But while we are talking, know that there are people who need you.”

With that, the BAU director rose to his feet and picked up the file. But he didn't leave the room immediately, as he had just remembered a certain detail.

“And one more thing: if you want to join my unit, you'll need to write a motivation letter. It’s part of the protocol.”

Frowning, Penelope stared at him blankly. He'd told her as if it were a chore, but she already had her own ideas on the subject. The monolith then turned its back on her and disappeared behind the door, leaving the young woman alone to her reflection.

A week later, the agent in charge of mail distribution at Quantico dropped a stack of envelopes on Hotch's desk. The manager thanked him, and he resumed his tour. Derek Morgan had been watching the proceedings in silence and saw his superior pull a peculiar letter out of the pile. Its entire contour was covered in purple glitter.

“What is it?” he asked, curious.

“We’ll see.”

Aaron, who had already guessed the identity of the author of this fold, took out his letter opener and unfolded the mailing. Inside, he found a candy-pink card with his first and last names written in pretty cursive script. He opened it and found two cardboard flaps lined with stars and little shiny hearts, and dancing in the middle, a text traced in glittery ink.

Sir, If you still need someone to kick the bad guys’ asses, I’m your man. Have a nice day. Penelope Garcia PS: This card is home-made.

Surprised, the ex-policeman saw a smile stretch his supervisor's lips. A reaction of obvious joy that he had not at all expected from such an unexpressive man. Intrigued, he questioned:

“Is it your birthday?”

“No, answered Hotch rising his head. It’s the motivation letter of our analyst.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #agent hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #code name mom #agent garcia #garcia #penelope garcia #derek morgan #morgan #agent morgan #erin strauss

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