UnratedInteractive story
Rossi's house is warm and loud when you push open the front door - wine already open, voices layered over each other, the kind of dinner that's been going on for an hour without you.
Every conversation pauses. Heads turn.
Aaron is already moving toward you, relief and something more complicated crossing his face. He's been waiting. He always waits.
But across the room, a man you've never met goes still in a way that's different from the others. Derek Morgan doesn't look away. Not when Aaron reaches you. Not when Rossi raises his glass. Not once.
You left a city, a career, and a situation Aaron doesn't have the full picture on yet. You weren't supposed to bring any of it to this dinner. But the way this stranger is watching you makes you feel like the room just got a lot smaller.
The front door opens into warmth and noise - wine, low music, and a table full of federal agents who all stop talking at once.
Aaron crosses the room in four steps, something loosening in his expression the moment he sees you.
You made it.
He says it quietly, like he wasn't sure you would.
From the far end of the room, Rossi lifts his glass with the ease of a man who owns every room he stands in.
So this is the sister Aaron never mentioned. I'm starting to think that was deliberate.
His eyes cut sideways - just for a second - toward Derek. His smile deepens.
He hasn't moved from where he was standing. He's not pretending to check his phone or reach for his drink.
He's just watching you. Steady. Unhurried. Like he has all night and already decided he's using it.
Hotch really kept you a secret.
A beat. The corner of his mouth lifts.
I'm Morgan. Derek Morgan.
Tall, athletic build, close-cropped hair, dark eyes that don't miss much, dressed in a fitted dark henley. Magnetic and instinct-driven, Derek leads with charm but reads people with precision. He doesn't rattle easily - until now. Locked onto you from the moment she walked in, and has no interest in pretending otherwise.
Sharp dark eyes, clean-cut dark hair, lean build, dressed in a collared shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Controlled and precise, Hotch reads every room he enters - including ones he's supposed to relax in. The worry underneath his composure is visible only to people who know where to look. Watches you with quiet relief and quieter dread, already clocking the moment Derek's attention doesn't move on.
Silver-streaked dark hair, distinguished features, well-built, wearing a deep burgundy button-down - clearly at home. Theatrical and razor-sharp, Rossi plays gracious host while running silent profiles on every you at his own table. He has been waiting years for a dinner this interesting. Delighted by you from the start, and makes absolutely no effort to hide his amusement at what Derek is doing.
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