Attention (Hotch/Garcia)
Nov. 16th, 2011 01:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rarepairs_cmTitle: Attention
Author: AVFerreira (aka DarkSideO'Me)
Rating: FRT
Category: Romance
Characters/Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Penelope Garcia
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 1566
Summary: Love is a matter of attention
When the thought first came to him, it seemed like such a small thing.
They were away on a case and had come to a standstill in the investigation. Rossi had taken Prentiss and Seaver out for a drink to unwind. Reid was sitting in a corner of the room the local police department had assigned to them rereading every bit of evidence. Morgan was sitting at the computer, chatting with Garcia while she waited for some automatic searches to yield results.
Hotch leaned back and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift away from the crimes, hoping leaving his brain idle for a while would help him get a new perspective on the case. He smiled as the flirty banter between his agent and the technical analyst continued. Some people would find it inappropriate, but he knew how much those two cared about each other and that the only reason they were so liberal with the off-colour innuendos was that they both knew neither would take it further.
And then the thought had risen: She used to call him Aaron. And flirt with him a bit, even if not in the same way she did with Morgan. Something had changed along the way and he couldn’t remember what.
He opened his eyes and stared at the vivacious woman on the computer screen. She noticed him looking, and smiled. “Ahoy there, my Captain, you look like you’ve been going through some rough seas, but fear not, the All-knowing Goddess is coming to the rescue. A couple more minutes and I’ll have this case cracked open for you, sir.”
Hotch smiled and nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He would get a Captain or a boss on occasion; sometimes she would call him Hotch, but mostly he was sir now, and she’d use it frequently, often more than once in the same utterance. The distance between them had increased over the years and he wondered what had made it happen.
Garcia turned out to be right and the information she had gathered lead them straight to the UnSub. The following day, they were back home and back to business as usual, except now that thought kept popping up every time she called him sir, every time he felt she was keeping him at arms length. Why had she stopped calling him Aaron?
He had heard many theories about the onset of love, from finding your soul mate to chemical reactions in the brain, but to him, it had always been about attention. You saw someone who attracted your attention, so you looked at them, liked what you saw and paid even more attention to them until the day came when they were all you could see. Sometimes it took days, sometimes it took years. In his case, falling in love with Garcia had taken three weeks of measuring her every word and watching every nuance of her posture and expression.
It was disconcerting to say the least. He’d been with Hailey for so long and from such an early age, he didn’t think he even knew how to love someone else. The age difference between them and the fact that Penelope seemed bent on maintaining their professional distance didn’t help matters.
A month had passed. He hadn’t approached her in any way; he was still too confused. Many nights he’d lay awake, staring at the ceiling, fighting the urge to drive to her door and ask her what had changed. Then he’d fall into a fitful sleep, crowded with dreams that made it hard for him to look her in the eye the following morning.
She had noticed the change in his behaviour and came into his office one day, so much hesitation in her voice that she hardly sounded like herself. “Sir?”
He winced at the word, didn’t look up. “Yes, Garcia?”
“Have I done something?”
The question startled him. He knew what she meant, but he had hoped she hadn’t noticed. His mind reeled, looking for an answer; he certainly didn’t feel ready to tell her the truth.
“Did I snap at you?” he asked, still going over the paperwork in front of him. “Some of the others have complained that I seem to be on a short fuse.”
“No, mostly you’ve been ignoring me or avoiding me. Made me wonder if you were mad at me and the others were collateral damage.”
He swivelled his chair to face her. Best go with a half-truth. “I know I have been difficult lately; I’m just tired, distracted. It’s over personal matters and I shouldn’t have allowed it to interfere with work, I apologise.”
“You’re only human, boss. You need to cut yourself a bit of slack. Can I help with anything?”
“You already do, Penelope. If it weren’t for your work around here, I suspect I would’ve snapped and turned axe-murderer a long time ago.”
Hotch was rewarded with a giggle and he smiled as he remembered how she had turned and gone back to her cubicle, the bounce back in her step. He opened his eyes; there was a yellowish humidity stain on the ceiling right over his head.
They were staying at a small inn in the middle of nowhere. The case had been simple enough and tomorrow they would be heading home. Again he was fighting the urge to go talk to Penelope, except this time she wasn’t halfway across town, she was just down the hall.
He got up and got dressed in slacks and a t-shirt. A run would do him good, he thought as he tied his trainers. The countryside around the inn was fairly smooth and the moon was almost full. A bracing jog and he was sure to fall asleep as soon as he got back into bed.
He opened the door and stepped out into the darkened corridor and the first thing he noticed was the light under her door. He was certain his brain had in no way been involved in his next actions because one minute he was exiting his room, and next he was standing by Penelope’s door, staring into her puzzled face, with no memory of having knocked.
“Did something happen?”
He shook his head. “I saw your light was on and I wanted to ask you something. May I come in?”
She hesitated, looked back into the room. For a second he wondered if he had completely misread her relationship with Morgan and if the other agent was in there. Bile rose in his throat and his fists clenched. Then she stepped aside to let him in.
He walked past her, heard her close the door, but didn’t face her right away. This was ridiculous; what he was about to ask was pathetic to say the least. Still he was already there, might as well get it out of his head and out of the way.
“Sir?”
He looked at her. She was still standing by the door, wrapped in a striped multi-coloured robe and looking as tired and confused as he felt.
“You stopped calling me Aaron.” It sounded even more ridiculous when said out loud. Her expression didn’t change. “You used to call me Aaron, and we’d joke around, the way you still do with the rest of them. Then it stopped. What happened, Garcia?”
She bit her lip, looked to the left, then to the right and finally fixed her gaze on the FBI academy logo emblazoned on his T-shirt. “You started having problems with Hailey, you were going to leave… And then… all those other horrible things happened…” She shook her head. “It didn’t feel appropriate anymore. And afterwards… I guess I just fell out of habit.”
He took a step forward, watching her. What she said was true, or at least the beginning of the truth, but that last bit had been an outright lie. She blushed, pulled the lapels of her robe closer together at the neck.
He nodded to himself, understanding, taking another step forward. “You were worried about me. You paid special attention to what I said, to my moods, to make sure I was alright, that I wouldn’t do something rash.”
As he spoke he had continued walking towards her and she had moved back until she was cornered between him and the door. He placed his right hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw. He could feel her heartbeat throbbing against the side of his hand as the blood sped through her jugular.
“And then you found you couldn’t stop paying attention, that you didn’t know how to stop caring, so you drew back from me, kept me at a safe distance. And I’ve been so busy trying to pick myself up, trying to shield myself from whatever else the world might want to throw at me, that I didn’t see it.”
“Sir…”
He leaned forward. “Aaron.”
Her hands were on his chest as if to push him away, but her pupils were dilated, her lips were slightly parted and both her breath and her pulse were altered.
“Aaron. You’re not supposed to profile other agents.”
He brought his face closer to hers, their breaths mingling as he spoke. “I’m not profiling you, Penelope.”
Her right hand moved up his chest to the back of his neck. He smiled as he moved to kiss her. “I’m just finally paying attention.”
Author: AVFerreira (aka DarkSideO'Me)
Rating: FRT
Category: Romance
Characters/Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Penelope Garcia
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 1566
Summary: Love is a matter of attention
When the thought first came to him, it seemed like such a small thing.
They were away on a case and had come to a standstill in the investigation. Rossi had taken Prentiss and Seaver out for a drink to unwind. Reid was sitting in a corner of the room the local police department had assigned to them rereading every bit of evidence. Morgan was sitting at the computer, chatting with Garcia while she waited for some automatic searches to yield results.
Hotch leaned back and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift away from the crimes, hoping leaving his brain idle for a while would help him get a new perspective on the case. He smiled as the flirty banter between his agent and the technical analyst continued. Some people would find it inappropriate, but he knew how much those two cared about each other and that the only reason they were so liberal with the off-colour innuendos was that they both knew neither would take it further.
And then the thought had risen: She used to call him Aaron. And flirt with him a bit, even if not in the same way she did with Morgan. Something had changed along the way and he couldn’t remember what.
He opened his eyes and stared at the vivacious woman on the computer screen. She noticed him looking, and smiled. “Ahoy there, my Captain, you look like you’ve been going through some rough seas, but fear not, the All-knowing Goddess is coming to the rescue. A couple more minutes and I’ll have this case cracked open for you, sir.”
Hotch smiled and nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He would get a Captain or a boss on occasion; sometimes she would call him Hotch, but mostly he was sir now, and she’d use it frequently, often more than once in the same utterance. The distance between them had increased over the years and he wondered what had made it happen.
Garcia turned out to be right and the information she had gathered lead them straight to the UnSub. The following day, they were back home and back to business as usual, except now that thought kept popping up every time she called him sir, every time he felt she was keeping him at arms length. Why had she stopped calling him Aaron?
He had heard many theories about the onset of love, from finding your soul mate to chemical reactions in the brain, but to him, it had always been about attention. You saw someone who attracted your attention, so you looked at them, liked what you saw and paid even more attention to them until the day came when they were all you could see. Sometimes it took days, sometimes it took years. In his case, falling in love with Garcia had taken three weeks of measuring her every word and watching every nuance of her posture and expression.
It was disconcerting to say the least. He’d been with Hailey for so long and from such an early age, he didn’t think he even knew how to love someone else. The age difference between them and the fact that Penelope seemed bent on maintaining their professional distance didn’t help matters.
A month had passed. He hadn’t approached her in any way; he was still too confused. Many nights he’d lay awake, staring at the ceiling, fighting the urge to drive to her door and ask her what had changed. Then he’d fall into a fitful sleep, crowded with dreams that made it hard for him to look her in the eye the following morning.
She had noticed the change in his behaviour and came into his office one day, so much hesitation in her voice that she hardly sounded like herself. “Sir?”
He winced at the word, didn’t look up. “Yes, Garcia?”
“Have I done something?”
The question startled him. He knew what she meant, but he had hoped she hadn’t noticed. His mind reeled, looking for an answer; he certainly didn’t feel ready to tell her the truth.
“Did I snap at you?” he asked, still going over the paperwork in front of him. “Some of the others have complained that I seem to be on a short fuse.”
“No, mostly you’ve been ignoring me or avoiding me. Made me wonder if you were mad at me and the others were collateral damage.”
He swivelled his chair to face her. Best go with a half-truth. “I know I have been difficult lately; I’m just tired, distracted. It’s over personal matters and I shouldn’t have allowed it to interfere with work, I apologise.”
“You’re only human, boss. You need to cut yourself a bit of slack. Can I help with anything?”
“You already do, Penelope. If it weren’t for your work around here, I suspect I would’ve snapped and turned axe-murderer a long time ago.”
Hotch was rewarded with a giggle and he smiled as he remembered how she had turned and gone back to her cubicle, the bounce back in her step. He opened his eyes; there was a yellowish humidity stain on the ceiling right over his head.
They were staying at a small inn in the middle of nowhere. The case had been simple enough and tomorrow they would be heading home. Again he was fighting the urge to go talk to Penelope, except this time she wasn’t halfway across town, she was just down the hall.
He got up and got dressed in slacks and a t-shirt. A run would do him good, he thought as he tied his trainers. The countryside around the inn was fairly smooth and the moon was almost full. A bracing jog and he was sure to fall asleep as soon as he got back into bed.
He opened the door and stepped out into the darkened corridor and the first thing he noticed was the light under her door. He was certain his brain had in no way been involved in his next actions because one minute he was exiting his room, and next he was standing by Penelope’s door, staring into her puzzled face, with no memory of having knocked.
“Did something happen?”
He shook his head. “I saw your light was on and I wanted to ask you something. May I come in?”
She hesitated, looked back into the room. For a second he wondered if he had completely misread her relationship with Morgan and if the other agent was in there. Bile rose in his throat and his fists clenched. Then she stepped aside to let him in.
He walked past her, heard her close the door, but didn’t face her right away. This was ridiculous; what he was about to ask was pathetic to say the least. Still he was already there, might as well get it out of his head and out of the way.
“Sir?”
He looked at her. She was still standing by the door, wrapped in a striped multi-coloured robe and looking as tired and confused as he felt.
“You stopped calling me Aaron.” It sounded even more ridiculous when said out loud. Her expression didn’t change. “You used to call me Aaron, and we’d joke around, the way you still do with the rest of them. Then it stopped. What happened, Garcia?”
She bit her lip, looked to the left, then to the right and finally fixed her gaze on the FBI academy logo emblazoned on his T-shirt. “You started having problems with Hailey, you were going to leave… And then… all those other horrible things happened…” She shook her head. “It didn’t feel appropriate anymore. And afterwards… I guess I just fell out of habit.”
He took a step forward, watching her. What she said was true, or at least the beginning of the truth, but that last bit had been an outright lie. She blushed, pulled the lapels of her robe closer together at the neck.
He nodded to himself, understanding, taking another step forward. “You were worried about me. You paid special attention to what I said, to my moods, to make sure I was alright, that I wouldn’t do something rash.”
As he spoke he had continued walking towards her and she had moved back until she was cornered between him and the door. He placed his right hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw. He could feel her heartbeat throbbing against the side of his hand as the blood sped through her jugular.
“And then you found you couldn’t stop paying attention, that you didn’t know how to stop caring, so you drew back from me, kept me at a safe distance. And I’ve been so busy trying to pick myself up, trying to shield myself from whatever else the world might want to throw at me, that I didn’t see it.”
“Sir…”
He leaned forward. “Aaron.”
Her hands were on his chest as if to push him away, but her pupils were dilated, her lips were slightly parted and both her breath and her pulse were altered.
“Aaron. You’re not supposed to profile other agents.”
He brought his face closer to hers, their breaths mingling as he spoke. “I’m not profiling you, Penelope.”
Her right hand moved up his chest to the back of his neck. He smiled as he moved to kiss her. “I’m just finally paying attention.”
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Date: 2011-11-16 07:24 pm (UTC)~ sera
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Date: 2011-11-17 08:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-16 07:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-17 08:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-16 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-17 08:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-16 11:23 pm (UTC)My favorite part: him thinking he was all wrong about Morgan and Garcia and that she wasnt alone.
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Date: 2011-11-17 08:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-17 06:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-17 08:58 am (UTC)