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[orange-bird-writes]

For all 6 of you out there,

I'm working on a big project right now 😈

[orange-bird-writes]

This is just kinda fluffy. Enjoy! No warnings. 💙

---

Aaron Hotchner hated social media. He had seen the trouble it caused. He didn't understand why people wanted to share the more boring things of their lives, minute by minute. Naturally, his wife loved it. She had Facebook since very nearly the beginning, and it was the same with Instagram. He stressed how dangerous those platforms were and she just waved him off with "my accounts are private, I don't add just anyone." He still worried, because that's who he was.

He didn't know if she was the post everything type of not. He didn't care to know. He knew she occasionally took photos of places they visited. That was the extent of his knowledge of her online world.

Which was why Garcia's question caught him off guard one day, "Hotch, what's it like being married so long?"

He had come to her office to drop off a file, but ended up lingering a few minutes. "It's..." where could he begin? "I guess some people think it would get old after a while but it's not. It's... reassuring? comforting? Why do you ask?"

"I saw your wife's post about you and your marriage on Instagram and it was sweet. I just wanted your take."

Him? On Instagram? That was news to him. "Can I see it?" She knew his feelings about social media.

Garcia pulled up the post on one of her many screens. You couldn't see the face of the person, it was buried in pillows on a bed. The only part of the person's head you saw was dark hair sticking up in the back, as the person was lying on their stomach. A bare shoulder was visible. He recognized their bedspread and a scar on his shoulder, even in the low light of the image. The caption read, "Dating is fun and you get to know different people and learn who you are, but there's such a feeling of home when you've been with someone for long. With the right person, life doesn't feel boring. There is also something to be said about someone who knows exactly how to get under your skin and get a rise out of you and then smoothly move back onto your good side. But by that point, you know how to do it to them, too. I guess my rambling is trying to say how much I love him." It was not what Aaron was expecting by any means. Maybe he could appreciate social media just a tiny bit.

[orange-bird-writes]

This is my brain generally. When it hits the corner, I get an idea.

[orange-bird-writes]

A little ficlet featuring Granddad!Hotch.

Enjoy!

---

"Come on, Darling," Aaron coaxed, "open wide for Pap," he said trying to get the very-much-a-Hotchner 13 month old to cooperate. She loved yogurt. He knew this. She knew this. All except for this very morning.

His granddaughter gave her best impression of the Hotchner glare. She was not having this.

Aaron sighed and stepped away from the high chair, setting the yogurt on the counter and then he leaned on the counter. He thought a moment before going to the freezer. "Do you want to try one of Pap's favorite breakfast items?" He asked, pulling out a box of frozen waffles. He was allowed his guilty pleasures. "They're really good with yogurt." That at least earned him a grin.

[orange-bird-writes]

Kind of a fun follow-up to the last fic.

No warnings.

---

Retirement, Day 1

The phone was ringing at 7:30AM on the first Monday of Hotch's retirement. Part of him was aware, part of him felt odd not getting ready for work; this didn't stop him from not setting an alarm and sleeping in for just a little bit.

"Hotchner," Aaron mumbled half-way into his pillow, lying prone.

"Hotch," the voice began, it was Spencer, "It's not even 8 and Emily broke the coffee pot."

A voice cried out further from the mouthpiece, "I did not! The setting just messed up!" Emily.

Aaron couldn't help but grin into the pillow. Yeah, they didn't need him to solve cases necessarily, but he was already missed. "Alright, what's it doing?" Aaron asked and let the two of them go back and forth until he could direct them to 'fixing' the coffee pot.

[orange-bird-writes]

Team family and Hotch retirement

No warnings that I can think of.

---

Aaron wasn't sure how they got onto the topic of his anniversary that day at work, he believes it was Dave who casually brought it up on a plane ride home.

"Isn't your wedding anniversary soon?"

Aaron didn't even look up from reading his file, "yes."

One of the newer agents, who was still slightly intimidated by their boss spoke up. "How long?"

"40 years," was the reply. They got married young, barely out of their teens.

"Well 40 years is cause for a celebration, you know..." Dave trailed off.

Aaron cut his eyes over to his friend, "should I bother trying to stop you?"

"No," JJ responded tapping on her phone, already planning.

That was the reason why Aaron was now surrounded by family and friends. His team had changed a bit over the years, but the love he had for them - in his own way of expressing it - never changed.

He had his own surprise tucked away, waiting for the right moment to announce it. Soon enough, the time came when Dave dragged Aaron and his wife to the front to share their thoughts and thanks. His wife was definitely the more eloquent of the two when it came to public speaking. Sure, he could brief the public about a serial killer, but it was different when your own emotions were involved.

Once his wife was done speaking, he couldn't help but feel a bit nervous, despite knowing everyone present.

"I'd like to thank all of you for coming, as well. It really does mean a lot to see you here, celebrating with us. I've given my lovely girl several gifts over the last couple weeks, but I have one more for her. We've been married for 40 years, but the last 30 or so I haven't really been there. Our marriage has always felt like it was built on stolen moments. She has always been so patient and much more gracious than I deserve, even when I joined the BAU when we had a newborn and toddlers. I'm sure some of you heard a much less kind version of that. However, that said, we made it to 40 years married. I know at the back of her mind, she didn't expect me to make it this far. I've had more than my fair share of close calls and she's received far too many calls from my team saying I'd been hurt. But that's changing. We're still young enough to enjoy life together and I owe that to her. So, effective at the end of the month, I'm retiring."

The rest of the night was met with numerous questions and congratulations and more than a few tears, Aaron would admit. He hated to leave his team, but 30 years was long enough and it was time for the next generation to take over.

[orange-bird-writes]

Yeah, I'm a fan of southern!Hotch. In this instance, it's an accent

This is kinda along the lines of "5 times X and 1 time no X" but not quite. Each new scene is a different date.

No graphic descriptions of anything, but Hotch will be on morphine in one small scenario. I didn't label it as such, tho.

---

The call came in at 11 in the evening. Not extraordinarily late, but a body could have been in bed. A body was in bed, asleep.

"Hotchner," Aaron Hotchner drawled as he woke up. He was normally really good about waking fully before answering but this had been a deeper sleep than normal. Of course.

The voice started to say something and then paused. Their brain was spinning trying to recall anything about why they were calling. Oh right, the case.

Aaron listened with eyes closed. A case in California. "Right...call up everyone, meet at the airport in an hour. Sleep on the plane," the accent was more subtle now as he became more awake, the southern roots being squashed back down.

---

Hotch was struggling to open his eyes. They felt like they weighed a ton each. What exactly happened?

"Oh fuck," he groaned, one eye partially open as his body still wasn't listening to his brain's command to move.

He heard someone shift next to him, "Hotch, want me to get the nurse?" That was...that was... Derek Morgan. Good. He knew voices.

"What the hell happened?" Aaron tried to ask, but the pain medicine coursing through his system voided any attempt of sounding professional and it came out "wha'tha hail happened". Aaron could not escape his South Carolina born and raised background, no matter how he tried. "Forget it," he mumbled and opted to sleep away his utter mortification.

---

The hostility from the small town sheriff's department was felt before they even walked in the door. The sheriff wanted help and answers and called them in despite the push back from his officers.

As JJ and the rest of the team spoke, Hotch could see the eye rolls and the scoffs. He was certain the deputies were under the impression that his own team thought they were stupid because they couldn't solve this case on their own. It didn't help that the southern accents here were thicker than the gravy they probably had on their breakfast.

Hotch took the opportunity to let his own accent slip out as he began to speak - an accent that he carefully guarded. An accent that had been stuffed away early in his law school days to try and sound "professional". It was his own hang up. There were plenty of successful lawyers with a variety of accents. He just didn't like his own on the job.

If his team was surprised, they didn't let on. At least not yet. He wasn't sure if it would really help in this situation but maybe it would set an even ground.

[orange-bird-writes]

I'm back. It's been 6 months of nothingness and then reading something wrong made this come to mind. There may or may not be another small fic after this one just to get it out of my system.

This may not be 100% cowboy!Hotch but definitely alludes to a very rural background for him, which is briefly explained. While others like to hurt Hotch, I like to provide him with an escape.

I wrote this straight into Tumblr so there's no grammar check or spelling check. May the odds be ever in my favor.

No warnings that I can think of unless you don't like mentions of horses.

Haley doesn't exist, either.

---

The flight back from Nevada was filled with unasked questions. It was on everyone's faces. No one really wanted to bring it up.

After a string of deaths in southern Clark county, the case led to a ranch that the team had visited twice already. All the employee alibi's had seemingly checked out. There was one that just didn't sit right with the team. Despite a witness for the man's alibi, it just wasn't right.

Perhaps it was the presence of the FBI for a third time that caused the unsub to panic and flee. Perhaps it was the panic that caused him to take a horse instead of heading for his own vehicle. And perhaps it was being on a horse that made the unsub think he could survive in the desert, as that was the only option out there.

Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi were speaking with the ranch owner at the barn when the horse came running out, much to the shock of everyone.

"May I?" asked Hotch, gesturing to the horse the owner had been leading out. The owner nodded and handed him the reigns. They would later question themselves about letting someone on their horse without knowing if that person could even ride. Maybe this thought would have occurred had everything not had been so dramatic.

Aaron hopped up onto the horse and was off following their unsub in less than a second. He was later grateful he had been wearing jeans that day instead of a suit. It was a ten minute chase into the vast southern Nevada emptiness. When the team finally arrived in UTV's and the black SUV, Hotch was leading both horses at a much slower pace with the unsub tied up on his horse.

The team would never have expected to see Hotch being so comfortable on a horse. Sure, maybe Morgan would have ridden horses at some point, but Hotch?

For Aaron, horse riding started in his early teens. During school breaks, he often was at a friend's house, a reprieve from his father and the insanity there. This friend, who would later become his girlfriend and even later his wife, grew up riding horses and when she found out he didn't know how to ride, made sure he learned. Horse riding was something that carried over from youth and while they couldn't have horses in the suburbs of Virginia, there were plenty of stables for boarding. When Saturdays were free from work, the pair often went riding. He had never roped a human before, so that was pure luck on his part. Standing barrels were much, much easier.

Back on the plane, with the case behind them, but such a long flight before them, it was only a matter of time before someone spoke up. Someone being Emily.

"So do you bale hay, too?"

[orange-bird-writes]

[orange-bird-writes]

December 1992. Two things I enjoy: dad Hotch and Christmas music.

---

The baby girls were home. They had been home for well over a month now, but there was always some relief to know they were home. Their time in the NICU had been short compared to others. They were on time for delivering twins, but still, a stay was needed. But now they were home. Your mom came to help every couple of weeks when Aaron was busy with work.

But Aaron was home this evening, and like most evenings when he was home, he would sing the girls to sleep. They had been put to bed, and the two of you had time to think before bed called you. Late in the night, a cry broke the silence, and in your sleep, you groaned, but Aaron was up before you, pulling the blanket up over you.

He walked into the babies' room and picked up the one causing such a loud noise, "daddy's here," he said, holding the baby to his chest. It wasn't her hungry cry or the diaper change cry; it was the "you weren't thinking of sleeping when there's a baby to hold, were you?" cry.

Aaron rubbed her back as he took her to the living room to place the floor. "Just don't want to sleep, hmm?" He asked. "Well, daddy can just talk, how about that?" He asked, moving the baby to eye level. She responded by grunting. "Not in the mood for a monologue? I can sing. Does that sound good?" He asked, moving her back against his chest and sitting on the couch before adjusting, so he was lying across the couch, head on the armrest. "If I'm going to sing, I'm going to be comfortable," he told her, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch over them. "Any special requests?"

He had a few songs he rotated through. "How about a Christmas song? It'll be here soon enough." He thought for a minute as (name) stretched out her legs and made a slight noise. "Yeah, that's a good one but much too rowdy for right now. I've got one now," he told her and started to sing the song from A Charlie Brown Christmas, "Christmas Time is Here." He loved watching that show growing up, and it was the only song his brain could latch onto that wasn't upbeat and more for dancing around. As he sang, he rubbed her back, enjoying the moment of just the two of them.

Once he was finished, he carried her back to her bed before returning to his own. You briefly awoke again to Aaron snuggling up to you before falling asleep once more.

[orange-bird-writes]

June 2001.

---

Laughter rang through the backyard as you watched Aaron run from your two little girls, while he held the baby in his arms. Okay, baby was a bit extreme, he was very nearly 4 years old. The girls were nearly 9.

They were playing some variation of tag, the girls were one team and Aaron and your son the other. You couldn't quite keep up with the rules, but you knew Aaron kept dodging them as they got closer to him. Being held by Aaron kept the little boy from being tagged, but you didn't think it made any difference because Aaron was the main target.

Somehow, the two little girls cornered Aaron, sneaky little smiles on their faces for tricking him. Based on what you saw from across the yard, Aaron's team lost, but there were no frowns. You watched as Aaron kneeled on the ground as one daughter hopped on his back, the other he held with his free arm and stood up, headed towards you.

You couldn't help but laugh as they passed with a call of "mommy, we're getting ice cream."

[orange-bird-writes]

June 2005. I'm saying the last Garcia one was May 2005. I really wanted to show the contrast between Hotch at the office and home.

--

Over dinner one evening, Aaron got amused by something he remembered. "So," he began, "Garcia is apparently interested in being your friend."

You raised an eyebrow as you sat across from him at the table drinking coffee. You and the kids had eaten dinner earlier; they were getting ready for bed to have time with Aaron when he was done eating.

"Now, she didn't outright say this, just what I guessed. What she did say was she wanted to know if you'd want to have lunch with her one day and, if so, for me to pass along her number to you so you can make plans," Aaron finished.

-

That had been two weeks ago, and finally, schedules aligned to make lunch happen. You were a bit nervous if you had to admit it. You didn't pal around with Aaron's co-workers. There was usually very little in common. But after having met Penelope in a fairly dramatic way, you threw caution to the wind. Maybe Aaron was right; perhaps you two were similar.

The two of you had made it through the formalities and had discussed a bit about childhoods when Penelope asked something a bit unexpected. "I promise I won't bring him up a lot but is Hotch really that serious all the time?" For Penelope, she would only occasionally see Hotch's hard shell crack. She knew he could have his kind, soft moments, but it was far and few between.

You couldn't help but laugh a little. "First, it's so weird to hear him referred to as Hotch. I guess Aaron would be way too casual," you started. "And second..." You had to stop a moment to try and picture the Aaron she knew. You had seen him in court years ago and how intense he could be there. Was he that way at work? Even at his most irritated at home, he wasn't as fierce as he was during a hearing. "I guess the easiest answer would be no." You wouldn't go too much into great detail because Aaron was a relatively private person. You thought briefly of the Aaron who would sing in the shower quite loudly, even if he was off-key.

"I really don't know what he's like at work. He talks about frustrations and some of the tougher things of your cases, but I've never seen him in the day-to-day stuff." When you'd go to see him at lunch, you saw more of the Aaron you knew. How could you explain it? "He can be serious at home, of course, but most of the time, he's not. He'll play around with the kids and be silly with them. He laughs a lot." You took a bite of your food to buy yourself a minute.

Penelope opted to jump in, maybe to help you, "I don't think I've ever heard him laugh. He rarely smiles."

You swallowed your food, as you looked a bit shocked. "Really?" You knew his job was hard, but for her to have worked with him for nearly a year and never heard him laugh? He was always goofy and laughing at home. Okay, not always, but it didn't take much to make him laugh.

Penelope nodded, "I've heard other agents talk about how he interrogates the vilest of people without breaking eye contact. They've said he's stared down the barrel of someone's gun without flinching," perhaps that wasn't the best thing to tell his wife, "he walks into all these situations without cracking. Hotch is known for being intense, for lack of a better word."

You didn't know all that about him; he didn't disclose that to you, and perhaps for a good reason. You didn't know what to say to follow that but finally found the right words, and the conversation steered back to where it had been. The rest of lunch flowing smoothly.

[orange-bird-writes]

2010, no particular month.

---

You had walked the familiar path from the elevator to Aaron's office many times over the years. In the early days, before he had been unit chief, you had once waited for him in the lobby of the BAU with all three children in tow. It was that day that other agents saw a different side to the ordinarily stoic Aaron Hotchner. Your then 10-month-old son, upon seeing his father from quite a distance away, cheerily screamed "Dada," which turned numerous heads, both to know the source of the voice and the subject of such delight. The solemn man agents had come to know was practically beaming as he reached his family and escorted them to lunch that day.

But that was then. Now, there were no kids with you today as you exited the elevator and headed to Aaron's office, visitor badge clipped to your jacket.

"Uh, excuse me, ma'am," a voice called from your right, causing you to pause, "may I help you?"

You didn't think you had looked lost, but you went with it. "No, I'm here to see Aaron Hotchner," you said, pointing to the office with the closed door. You didn't know this agent, not that you had known all of them anyways. You had an idea who this was and that they hadn't been on the team more than a couple of weeks.

The agent grimaced slightly, "Oh, okay. I'm going to warn you, he's not in a good mood today," they said.

"Thank you," you said. This might be enjoyable. It was fun to get under his skin at times. You went up the stairs and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Aaron's voice carried through the door, sounding clipped.

You knocked again.

From inside the office, Aaron couldn't see who was at his door. They were standing in a blind spot. Maybe they hadn't heard him. Sounding slightly more annoyed, he called a bit louder, "come in."

The knock came again. Aaron huffed as he set his pen down roughly and stood up to answer the door, brow furrowed. Another knock. He had the full Aaron Hotchner Angry Eyebrows going as he opened the door, ready to yell at whoever was on the other side.

As the door was yanked open, you gave a small grin as you looked at your husband, who was very slightly startled. "Easy there, (nickname). Put away those eyebrows. Ready for lunch?" You asked as you passed by him into the office.

Down in the bullpen, the new agent was a bit dumbfounded as they watched the interaction. The fact that someone could just disregard an angry Hotch! "What was that?" they asked Morgan, who had just walked to his desk.

Morgan casually shrugged, "about 20 years experience."

[orange-bird-writes]

December, 1990.

Safe for all, and to all a good night.

---

You were sitting in the glow of the Christmas tree lights in your living room. Nearly every other light in your apartment was off. Aaron stepped out of the bedroom and paused, letting his eyes adjust, "trying to save on the electric bill?" He teased, coming to join you on the couch. As he got comfortable, you leaned against him and put your arm across his waist.

"No, I'm enjoying the quiet and calm. I'm not sure what it is about lights like these that give such a cozy feeling."

"I'm not sure, but I'm not complaining," he said, kissing your forehead and pulling you closer towards him. After the craziness of a busy day, it was nice to stop and just rest. To breathe. The pretty, sparkling lights encouraged you to slow down and appreciate small things.

[orange-bird-writes]

This is mid-2005. Penelope started sometime in 2004, my guess is the latter part because Spencer was there before her.

Safe for all :)

---

Early Friday afternoon, Aaron had called you and asked if you wanted to go out tonight, just the two of you. The kids had plans already for sleepovers, and it would be nice to relax with him over a good meal.

The place chosen was not an over-the-top place by DC standards, but it would be fun to dress up a little. Aaron chose a booth towards the back of the restaurant, and you were sitting on the same side, facing the front of the restaurant. His arm was along the back of the bench, body turned toward you, but he always kept an eye on the people in the restaurant. Old habit, perhaps. This was how he spotted a co-worker coming in on a date, and part of him hoped he wasn't spotted.

You had met his co-workers in the past on various occasions. It seemed like so many had come and gone over the last seven years. Of the current team, you had met Derek a few years ago and occasionally saw him, and you had met JJ as well in passing once. You knew Gideon from years past. There were a couple of others you were aware of but had never met.

You and Aaron were waiting on the check so you could leave, snuggling into his side, when a voice came from over Aaron's left shoulder, "Excuse me, Sir." Aaron sat up straighter and turned to the speaker, "Garcia." He said, wondering what she was doing here. He didn't think she had seen him.

"Sir, I am so sorry to interrupt your date, but I need your help. I'm on a date that's going horrible," Penelope said, occasionally glancing to the other side of the restaurant.

Aaron nodded, a bit concerned. "Calm down. Do they know where you live? What do you need?"

"We came separately, and so that's okay, but could you call me and say we have a case?" She must have been desperate, Aaron thought.

"Alright. We'll pay, and then when we step out, I'll call. What if your date wants to give you a ride to the office? I could offer to come and get you," Aaron said, trying to close any potential open endings.

"Thank you so much. Ma'am, I am so sorry to interrupt like this," Penelope said, finally addressing you after not being so panicked. She then smoothed out her skirt and walked back to her table as nothing had happened.

Aaron turned back to you as the waitress came back with the check, "that was Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst."

"She's certainly animated," you said with a grin. Well, this would be fun.

-

As soon as Penelope got into the passenger side of the SUV, she turned to you in the back seat after telling Aaron thank you again. "I didn't mean to be rude and not introduce myself, and by crashing your date and you look so lovely," she told you, "I'm Penelope Garcia," she said, offering her hand.

"I'm (name) Hotchner. This was much more exciting than the ending to dinner I expected," you said, shaking her hand, "we should go get ice cream to end this night on an even better note."

Penelope was momentarily speechless as she processed this information before asking questions of you both. Hotch was married.

[orange-bird-writes]

Aaron Hotchner Appreciation Week

Friday Day 5 - Favorite Iconic Moment

THE scene. The most iconic Aaron Hotchner scene ever— ✨charcoal gray✨

Tabula Rasa 3x19

-> @hotchappreciationweek

❤️

[orange-bird-writes]

S10 Aaron Hotchner x button up and tie with no jacket🥴