Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The putting practice and Ethiopian dinner at Aaron's apartment never happened. Reid didn't come over to Aaron's place to try out Aaron's right-handed golf clubs. Aaron didn't coach Reid on adjusting his grip on the club or his stance. The fantasies that Aaron conjured up on his way home from Quantico most certainly didn't happen.

At four-thirty that afternoon, the BAU was called to Tempe, Arizona to stop a spree killer who was targeting those in fraternities and sororities, specifically those in the National Association of Latino Fraternal Organizations. It was a brutal six days in which Elle took the lead with the sororities and Aaron with the frats because they were the only two with Greek system ties. Admittedly, Aaron was surprised that Elle belonged to a sorority and JJ didn't; JJ was much more the typical sorority type. Hell, the fact that Morgan, Reid and Gideon weren't members of some type of fraternal organization—even if it was purely academic, not social—was somewhat shocking to Aaron.

He put all those aside and worked the case as best he could. Some of the frat brothers dissed his Phi Alpha Delta ties because it was a law fraternity and his alma mater, Georgetown, was a non-Greek school. Still, Aaron was able to make a connection with the leadership at both frats and got them to convince their members to let the FBI handle the case.

It was an ugly resolution, but a resolution nonetheless. It was one that made the entire team look forward to their annual leave with even more anticipation. Time back at the office was spent churning through paperwork so that when Friday rolled around, they could all leave by five.

So it was very disappointing for Aaron, because he finally had a legitimate excuse (and the nerve) to invite Reid over, but Fate seemed to conspire against him. The only thing that made it more palatable was Reid's promise that when they got back from their respective vacation spots, they would practice putting at Aaron's apartment and Reid would bring dinner.

But first, there was Jamaica.

"It's going to be sick," Morgan promised as he adjusted his fedora and high-fived Aaron. "Really, really sick. I promise!"

And for the first day, it was. On the second day, however, Aaron received a phone call at five a.m.

Aaron had endured his fair share of practical jokes when he first joined the BAU. He considered it a right-of-passage and told himself that he should be flattered that the other team members took the time to yank his chain. None of the jokes were particularly harsh and after the first six months, the Fearsome Foursome—Morgan, Elle, JJ and Garcia—gave it a rest.

Or maybe not.

The stupid phone call warned him 'not to waste time on the first victims,' and was about as clichéd as one could get.

"Ha, ha," he said into the dead receiver before rolling over at going back to sleep.

So, he was immediately skeptical when Morgan pounded on the door of his hotel room later that morning. "Hotch! Open up!"

He barely got the door open before Morgan charged in and announced, "Elle's been arrested for murder."

"What? Did she off one of those unrepentant 'bad men' you called about earlier?" he scoffed, still annoyed at the five a.m. wake up call. "A raspy voice on the other line? Seriously? I'm not some rookie that you can entice into a wild goose chase, Morgan."

"What the hell are you talking about, man?" Morgan demanded as he glared. "Elle's been arrested. I'm goddamn serious."

He almost challenged Morgan again. Almost. But something about the way the man was pacing and the way he was dressed—dark slacks, long-sleeved dark t-shirt, and his phone, cuffs and badge clipped prominently to his belt—made Aaron realize that this wasn't some outlandish hazing that Morgan and Elle cooked up.

Still, he was wary as he asked, "Murder?"

"Decapitated corpse in the room next to hers. Blood trail leading from there to her room. 'Save Her' written in blood over her headboard."

"Was it the guy she was with last night?"

"No idea," Morgan admitted as he ran a hand over his shaven head. "All Dupree gave me was what I just told you. The locals took her away around 6 a.m. She hasn't called me. Obviously, she didn't call you or Reid, else Reid would have called one of us."

"The police should have contacted the US consular when they arrested her," Aaron stated as he went over to his closet. He pulled out his suit and tossed it on the bed. "I'll call to make sure they know." He looked up to find Morgan staring at him.

"Five days in paradise and you bring a damn suit with you?"

He ignored the dig as he began changing his clothes and said instead, "She wouldn't do this."

"Hell, no. If she´s gonna off a guy, we´d never find the body."

Aaron let out a sharp laugh and shook his head. "Let's keep that defense in reserve. We can divide this up, then. I can handle the legal side."

"Yeah, and I'll charm the locals into letting me tag along." Morgan shook his head before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Can't catch a break, can we?"

"Doesn't seem so." He paused before venturing, "So that wasn't you calling me this morning."

"What call?"

"I got a call on the hotel line telling me not to waste time on the first victims." Aaron thought about the words again frowned. "The caller used plurals … 'they' … 'men' … so there's more than one."

"First, I didn't make that call," Morgan stated. "Second, they only found one body that we know of." He paced a bit more. "When I found out, I came straight to you. I haven't called Reid yet." Morgan glanced at his watch. "My friend Dupree said the locals were still processing the scene."

"I'll try Reid then," Aaron offered as he slipped on his dress shirt, "so you can get down to the locals. Cell reception is pretty crappy here."

"It's supposed to be," the other man groused before giving a short wave and leaving.

Aaron let out a sigh before picking up his cell phone.

So much for a vacation.