TWENTY EIGHT

UNEDITED



TWENTY EIGHT. DALLAS LAWYERS


HOTCH WAS IN A BAD MOOD. Daisy noticed this as soon as she saw his tense posture in the lobby of the biggest Dallas law firm. He was tapping something into his phone, likely wondering where she was. 


Sure enough, her phone dinged with a text. 


How far away are you? H. 


"I'm right here," she tapped his shoulder, and he turned around, looking down at her. She was dressed smarter than she usually was, and for that he was grateful. If he let her know that, though, she would go out of her way to dress like a slob just because she knew the rich assholes would turn their noses up. 


"Prentiss and Morgan are en route to Hoyt Ashford's home," he muttered, his eyes flickering back down to his phone. He spun on his heel and stalked through the ground floor, Daisy on his tail. 


"Hello to you too, sir," she chuckled, her eyebrows raised. He was far more on edge than usual, and she wasn't a hundred percent sure why. This wasn't their worst case, and in her opinion, she wasn't completely bummed out about the rich capitalist pricks who were dropping.  


Hotch exhaled loudly. "Hello."


Daisy patted his shoulder and flashed him a smile, watching as he pressed JJ's contact number and held his phone to his ear. Daisy was left standing next to him, looking around the area. There were far too many people in suits for her liking - though she was standing next to one. 


"JJ, both lawyers said that they would be here at noon," Hotch muttered into his cell, using his other hand to check his watch. "It's almost twelve-thirty, neither of them are here. Can you text me the numbers? I need to call-"


"Agent Hotchner?" He was cut off by a wealthy-looking woman stopping in front of them. Daisy wasn't a super judgemental person, but from one look at the haircut and string of pearls, she wasn't a fan. 


"Never mind, she's here," Hotch hung up the phone and reached out to shake the woman's hand. Daisy did the same, managing to hide her distaste. 


"Ellen Daniels," she introduced herself. "Barswell Consulting."


"Ms. Daniels, we called two lawyers and neither of them was you," the three began walking, Hotch sandwiched between the two women. 


"They called me to consult on the press releases," she responded with ease. "My firm specialises in strategic risk management for firms around the city."


"Ah, you're a problem solver," Daisy stepped around Hotch, stopping in front of the two. She expected Hotch to be annoyed, but he had a similar expression on his face. He didn't trust this woman either. 


"And we have a mutual one, don't we?" she looked Daisy up and down, a frown pulling at her lips. 


"Do you know who this girl is?" Daisy crossed her arms, unintimidated by the woman. 


"No," Ellen shook her head. 


"Well, one of your clients might, that's the point," Hotch added. 


"They're not gonna open up to either one of us about it," the older woman said, her southern twang seeping through. 


"Then they're putting themselves at risk," Daisy didn't waste a second in replying.


"Yes, I understand that, but you see," Ellen tilted her head, a sly smile creeping onto her painted lips. "My hands are tied. None of these men are going to admit that they have a professional girlfriend."


"I can subpoena their financial records," Hotch threatened. 


"Then I would have to file about a year's worth of injunctions to stall you," Ellen retorted. "Now, who needs that kind of hassle?"


"Ms Daniels, this isn't a game," Daisy said sharply, her eyes narrowing. 


"I need a phone number," Hotch continued. "If not of this particular girl, then someone like her, someone we can talk to."


"No escort will agree to sit down with the FBI," Ellen scoffed. "But I have something better for you, assuming you might be willing to overlook certain legal niceties."


Hotch and Daisy exchanged a look. 


Ellen smirked. "Do you want to buy a house?"


Hotch stared at her for a second. "No."


Ellen took a step towards Hotch, leaning in close. She pressed a business card to his chest, and Daisy gritted her teeth. Hotch leaned back a little, clearly not comfortable with the wealthy woman either. "Yes, you do."


Hotch frowned, taking the card. Ellen winked at him, glared at Daisy, then turned and stalked off. 


Daisy resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out, and instead peered over Hotch's shoulder to read the card. "What do you think this is about?"


Hotch handed it to her. "We'll get Garcia on it."


They started walking towards the exit, Daisy messaging Garcia a picture of the business card. She shoved her phone in her pocket, and huffed. "I didn't like that woman."


"Me neither," Hotch agreed, leading her to the SUV. He opened the door for her and walked to the driver's side, climbing in. He glanced over when Daisy's phone buzzed. "Is that Garcia?"


Daisy looked at the screen. 


FROM: RICHARD WHITTLE


Hey ;)


She cleared her throat. "Uh, no."


Hotch gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. He wasn't as good at hiding how he felt as he thought he was, and it was becoming a problem. 


Daisy looked across, and sighed gently. "Hotch, you can't do this."


Hotch came to a stop at a red light. There was a moment where no one said anything. He didn't look at her, he couldn't. "I know."


"You're the one who said-"


"I know."


Daisy leaned back against the headrest, her eyes moving back to the road. Her phone dinged again, and she looked down. 


FROM: PENELOPE GARCIA


Real estate agents have been known to work with escorts, I've sent everything I've found to the police station x


Daisy relayed the message to Hotch, who nodded a couple of times. "Get Prentiss and Reid to check out the address."


"Sure," Daisy muttered in response, texting Emily the address and everything she needed to know about it. Emily replied quickly, saying that she and Spencer would head over within the hour.  


Then, more silence.


★☆ 


With another murder that night, Hotch was even more on edge. The team had given the profile to corporate lawyers instead of the police, and it wasn't exactly a rodeo. They were sarcastic and rude, except for a young woman named Allison Barnes. She'd given them information possibly related to the Unsub. A penthouse, rented to a close 'friend' of one of the dead millionaires. She earned glares and head shakes from her colleagues, but genuine gratitude from the agents. 


"We'll get a warrant and search the place as soon as possible," Hotch had looked back at the team, who nodded in response. 


No more than two hours later, Daisy followed close behind Derek as they stormed through the front door, guns at the ready. The apartment was empty, but all signs pointed to the Unsub living there. 


"You got anything?" Derek called, having sifted through the bedroom with Daisy. They'd come up empty. There was nothing that alluded to an identity, or even an agenda. Just a place for the woman to stay when she needed.


"No," Emily called from the closet. "And she seems too smart to leave a receipt laying around."


Derek followed Emily to the bathroom, and Daisy wandered through to the lounge, where Hotch, Rossi and Spencer were snooping. "Anything?"


"Her lifestyle is disposable," Spencer commented, his hands behind his back as he walked around. "She's got no photos, no personal items. However, we think she comes from money."


"Really?" Daisy narrowed her eyebrows, glancing down at the book Hotch held in his gloved hands. "What makes you say that?"


"First edition," Hotch muttered in response. 


Daisy took a step forward, but froze when the landline rang. The sound echoed through the apartment, and the team raced to gather around the incoming call. 


"If it's a customer, Daisy or Prentiss should answer. They'll get more information out of them," Spencer said, and Daisy nodded quickly, understanding where he was coming from. 


"Unless she's calling in for her messages," Rossi pointed out. 


Derek pulled out his phone, dialling Penelope. "Yeah, Garcia, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?"


The phone continued to ring, and Hotch looked at Emily. "Prentiss, get ready to answer."


Emily nodded, reaching for the phone, however it went to voicemail before she could pick up. 


Hi, it's me. You know what to do. 


There was a beep, signalling then end of the message. Then...


"Aaron."


Daisy's jaw slacked in surprise. She looked at Hotch with wide eyes. How did she know his name? And why was she angry about it?


"I know you're up there. Pick up," the voice was slow, seductive. It sounded like it was capable of many things, including the murders of rich assholes. "Aaron Hotchner."


Hotch glanced at Daisy, and she shrugged, trying her best to hide how she really felt about the young woman on the other end. She had no right to be jealous - it was completely unreasonable. What about Big Dick Richard? They had been getting along great so far. Besides, Hotch rejected her. 


Stepping forward, Hotch picked the phone up and held it to his ear. "Hello?"


He started walking away from the group. Emily pressed the record button on the answering machine to make sure they could keep the call. 


"I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours. Can we start there?" Hotch was calm and collected despite his surprise towards the situation. He was quiet, listening to her response. "Who says you can't? No. It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you."


Daisy swallowed. Hotch rejected you. 


"But I've disappointed you, haven't I?" Hotch continued. Daisy wondered what the woman was saying to him. "Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families, who deserve to be punished."


Something the woman said made Hotch tense up. 


"No, my wife left me," he muttered. Daisy felt a churning in her stomach. She watched Hotch, sensing how difficult this call was for him. Of course it was, he was admitting something horrible that had happened to a murderer. "I have a son. I try to see him every week...no, I don't get there as often as I want...how am I a whore?


Daisy's eyebrows knitted together. Derek waved at Hotch, telling him to keep talking so that Garcia could track the call. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I? Well, you want to show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."


Glancing back at Derek, Daisy frowned as he shook his head. Penelope still couldn't triangulate the signal. 


"Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you," Hotch kept talking. "You've been betrayed so many times, you don't know who to trust, and that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue. Am I right?"


He waited for a response. 


"Come to me and turn yourself in," he spoke firmly, but with a strange kindness. Daisy understood why. This woman had been hurt by so many men and had turned to hurting them back. She was a broken kid who didn't know better, and that was what made it so difficult. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."


A moment passed, and a gunshot sounded, loud enough for the team to hear. Daisy's heart sank. Another murder, another person they could have saved. 


Derek started talking to Garcia in a quick, worried tone, hoping they weren't too late. Hotch was trying to speak to the woman, but she was no longer replying. She would have left the cell there. 


Hotch clenched his jaw, and gripped the phone tightly. Derek shouted the address, and he threw the tech to the ground. "Let's go."


★☆


i just want daisy and hotch to do the secs again :(



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