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Entry tags:
[Aug-6-2021][Criminal Minds] Throwback
Title: Throwback
Day/Prompt: 6-Aug-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Character/Pairing: Elle/Hotch
Rating/Warning(s): Gen
"She's been tracking him for a while. Here's Agent Greenaway," Windrow gestured to the figure at the table, "She's been here for five years."
His eyes widened.
Brown hair burnt like fire, a familiar fashion from all those years ago— Hotch swallowed, staring at a ghost from the past. Her fingernails shined, her face glowed, and she no longer covered herself in button ups and conservative clothing to shield away the hurt.
She looked... normal. Happy, even. As happy as one can be doing brutal, secret missions and conducting field operations in the CIA. There were scars he guessed to be a few years old, but she looked happy. Her eyes were bright. She still smelled deep, perfume crisp, maybe even a cologne.
He'd heard her rants about how nauseating women's perfumes could get. She appreciated cognacs, but loved smelling of bourbon and oak herself. He'd seen her before—once, one last time years ago. When she was recovering from her wounds, he had come to see her. He wiped her blood and rinsed her essence down the drain, and once she surrendered her gun and badge, exiting with such finality that rendered him speechless, she left his life. He remembered it like it happened yesterday.
"Elle?" Hotch took a step forward, and the world around him disappeared.
His voice, a vague buzz in the back of his mind, sounded dry, not entirely sure.
She looked at him like she'd stare at a stranger, business-as-usual, then recognition flickered in those amber eyes. Her gaze fell on his badge, then trailed up to his eyes again.
"Hotch...?" She blinked twice, a third time to check. Her hair bounced heathily, shining in the muted blue, white overhead light as she turned, catching sight of Windrow, and smiled. Then, she grinned. Her smile was bright, welcoming, beautiful, and incredibly clear.
She wasn't bothered by a reminder of the past. She looked happy to see Aaron Hotcher, her unit chief, old friend, and severed tie; this wasn't a bad reminder, and that made Hotch sigh a breathe he didn't know he was holding. Of course, even if she hated him, they'd work amicably and complete the case because they were clear professionals, but the thought of Elle harboring a grudge was uncomfortable to say the least. Not that she didn't have the right to, of course.
Hotch found himself mimicking her blinking.
"Elle," He trailed off, stepping back into reality. "It's so good to see you."
"Hotch." She repeated firmly, then stepped closer. Extending a hand, she met him halfway, shaking his bigger, calloused hand with a subdued eagerness.
"So, I'm assuming you two know each other...?" Windrow interrupted, a knowing smile playing on her dark features. "Greenaway and I go way back, but we've never been introduced." Windrow chuckled, standing tall on her feet, a small woman in a big room.
Hotch retracted his hand begrudgingly, then met Windrow's dark, knowing eyes.
"Yeah, uh," She met his gaze for a moment, grin growing, "I was a member of the BAU."
She nudged her head at Hotch. "He was my boss."
Coughing into his hand, Hotch nodded. Professional mode kicking back in immediately, Hotch's eyes glazed over, the dark, serious look returning.
"Yes. We worked together a few years ago."
"So, he was your boss." She raised her brows, staring smugly at the two. She slowly said, dragging on the last syllable, "I see."
Day/Prompt: 6-Aug-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Character/Pairing: Elle/Hotch
Rating/Warning(s): Gen
"She's been tracking him for a while. Here's Agent Greenaway," Windrow gestured to the figure at the table, "She's been here for five years."
His eyes widened.
Brown hair burnt like fire, a familiar fashion from all those years ago— Hotch swallowed, staring at a ghost from the past. Her fingernails shined, her face glowed, and she no longer covered herself in button ups and conservative clothing to shield away the hurt.
She looked... normal. Happy, even. As happy as one can be doing brutal, secret missions and conducting field operations in the CIA. There were scars he guessed to be a few years old, but she looked happy. Her eyes were bright. She still smelled deep, perfume crisp, maybe even a cologne.
He'd heard her rants about how nauseating women's perfumes could get. She appreciated cognacs, but loved smelling of bourbon and oak herself. He'd seen her before—once, one last time years ago. When she was recovering from her wounds, he had come to see her. He wiped her blood and rinsed her essence down the drain, and once she surrendered her gun and badge, exiting with such finality that rendered him speechless, she left his life. He remembered it like it happened yesterday.
"Elle?" Hotch took a step forward, and the world around him disappeared.
His voice, a vague buzz in the back of his mind, sounded dry, not entirely sure.
She looked at him like she'd stare at a stranger, business-as-usual, then recognition flickered in those amber eyes. Her gaze fell on his badge, then trailed up to his eyes again.
"Hotch...?" She blinked twice, a third time to check. Her hair bounced heathily, shining in the muted blue, white overhead light as she turned, catching sight of Windrow, and smiled. Then, she grinned. Her smile was bright, welcoming, beautiful, and incredibly clear.
She wasn't bothered by a reminder of the past. She looked happy to see Aaron Hotcher, her unit chief, old friend, and severed tie; this wasn't a bad reminder, and that made Hotch sigh a breathe he didn't know he was holding. Of course, even if she hated him, they'd work amicably and complete the case because they were clear professionals, but the thought of Elle harboring a grudge was uncomfortable to say the least. Not that she didn't have the right to, of course.
Hotch found himself mimicking her blinking.
"Elle," He trailed off, stepping back into reality. "It's so good to see you."
"Hotch." She repeated firmly, then stepped closer. Extending a hand, she met him halfway, shaking his bigger, calloused hand with a subdued eagerness.
"So, I'm assuming you two know each other...?" Windrow interrupted, a knowing smile playing on her dark features. "Greenaway and I go way back, but we've never been introduced." Windrow chuckled, standing tall on her feet, a small woman in a big room.
Hotch retracted his hand begrudgingly, then met Windrow's dark, knowing eyes.
"Yeah, uh," She met his gaze for a moment, grin growing, "I was a member of the BAU."
She nudged her head at Hotch. "He was my boss."
Coughing into his hand, Hotch nodded. Professional mode kicking back in immediately, Hotch's eyes glazed over, the dark, serious look returning.
"Yes. We worked together a few years ago."
"So, he was your boss." She raised her brows, staring smugly at the two. She slowly said, dragging on the last syllable, "I see."