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part four - old friends
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There was a particular chill which passed over DC as Ivy stepped out of a taxi. Her short-sleeved black turtle neck and black mini skirt, although paired with tights and a jacket, caused a shiver to go up her spine. She couldn't tell if it was because of the meeting or the weather.

The weather was a safer bet.

Before she could enter the bar, she checked her black leather Chanel bag. Her handgun was there and loaded. She rummaged around her box of cigarettes, keys and old wrappers all for a piece of gum she knew was in there, finding it and popping it in her mouth, taking it as her moment to enter the bar.

Her red bottoms felt the sticky floor. The place wasn't a total dive bar, she saw people, young and old, chatting and drinking from every corner. She liked to drink, mainly by herself and only sometimes with company. This was the first bar she had been to since her move and quite honestly, it met her expectations.

The bar was stocked, and she noticed the large variety of alcohol on offer as she made her way over. He was sitting there already, an empty bottle in front of him, a fresh in hand. He had a whisky on the rocks beside him, waiting for someone to take a sip. She knew his beer was the kind that didn't contain alcohol, the zero kind. He liked the taste of the stuff, just not the problems it caused him.

"Pietro," She smiled, his head flicked around and met her eyes.

"Captain, my god is it good to see you," He placed his bottle down, jumping out of the chair to embrace her.

She sat beside him, sipping the drink he had ordered her and getting over the mandatory small talk.

"Why are you in DC?" She asked the expected question.

"I'm tiying up a few loose ends, you being one of them," He smirked. "I'm going back."

"Fuck off, really?" She exclaimed, taking another sip of her drink.

"I've been invited to help lead a task force in Morroco."

Ivy froze, the name was all too familiar and anytime she heard it, she felt paralyzed in her helplessness.

"It's not the same case, something different. If it had anything to do with what happened in Morroco last time, you'd be the first to know. You can come with me if you like, head the team again?" He asked, she knew he'd want her to return.

"I'm actually happy here. I like the city and the FBI isn't all that bad." She explained to him, he rolled his eyes and took another slug of beer, "I feel at ease, Pietro."

"Are you smoking?" He asked her, flashing a somewhat worried stare.

"I get two a month for when I feel exceptionally stressed, I've stayed disciplined with it, don't worry" She smiled, taking another sip. "Plus, I started attending ballet classes again, it's good for the core I just need to get-"

"Your stuff from storage?" He laughed, hints of his once incredibly strong southern accent coming through, "I've got all your things in my car. I'll be gone for three months so, I thought now was as good a time as anything to get your shit to you."

"Good on you," She smiled, finishing the drink and signalling the barman for another. "What's the assignment?"

"That's classified," He watched her face grow furious.

"I'm still your captain, Pietro. I'll make a call to someone else on the team about it," She laughed.

As she sat on that barstool, knowing the Interpool world was still turning and cases were still evolving, part of her was glad it wasn't her life anymore. It would be nice to keep up on the conversations, cases and conspiracy but, she made a promise to leave that side of her life behind permanently.

"So, you're a big FBI girl now, huh? Do you miss the action of Interpool?" He teased her.

"I'm excited for a quiet life, to lay down some roots. You should try it sometime," She teased back, hitting his arm.

"I'll be in the action till it kills me, Captain. Have you contacted your family?" He asked and she paused, feeling like she had walked into some sort of trap.

"No, I haven't yet," She explained and he had a look of sudden disappointment on his face.

"Does they even know you're alive?" Pietro asked her.

"Also a no. My dad's still in Austin, he's got a new family and a couple of kids. My mama is dead, and so are my grandparents. I don't want to interrupt his new life with my bullshit, I think it's better to let him live," She explained, taking another sip of her drink.

"You should call, you won't regret it," He said before downing the rest of his drink, "Now if you excuse me, there is a blonde over there that has been eying me up all night," She followed his eyes to the cute girl who gave him a wave.

"You are unbelievable."

"I know right, I leave people speechless. I'll spin by your place and drop off your things," He stood up, short the blonde a wink.

"I'm guessing you have an address and a way in already?" She stood up, wrapping her arms around him as a sort of goodbye.

"Of course, I cover all my bases. This is only a goodbye for now unless one of us fucks up," He smirked, dropping cash on the bar, paying for both sets of drinks and ordering his friend another.

"I know that will be you so, mind yourself," She smiled, releasing him from the hug, watching him signal the woman and her following suit.

She turned around and watched him leave, following the same path as she had just a few minutes before. As she watched him leave, she noticed a group of eyes on her, ones that were beaming with joy but more likely, drunkness.

She collected her next drink and headed to the table, knowing that it would be rude to ignore them.

"Hey Mama, welcome," Morgan's face lit up, as well as girlfriends.

"Hey," She smiled and sat down beside him, fitting into the tight space. "Do you guys come here often?"

"It's one of our spots," Emily commented, shooting her a smile.

She couldn't help but have her eyes gravitate towards the bar, noticing a man with his back to her. She knew instantly it was her boss, leaning one arm against the bar itself, waiting to pick up his drink. When it inevitably arrived, he turned to the group with a shocked expression. While the shock he had for her appearance was displayed all over his face, her shock was concealed within. He arrived back at the table, squishing in beside Emily, sipping his glass while staring her down.

" I didn't know if you were free tonight but it looked like you had a very attractive date," Emily smirked, knowing the pit of trouble which she was stirring.

That comment piqued her boss's interest. She became more aware of how he was sat. He had changed from his typical suit to black jeans, resting his hands on his spread-out knees, his hands meeting to hold his glass. For such little room at the table, he sure was taking up a lot of it.

"He's just an old friend, who left with his own lady friend," She joked, Emily smirked.

"You know, new girl, it has come to our attention that we do not know the slightest thing about you. So spill," Morgan eyed her up, slugging down his beer in the process.

"Well, I was born in Austin, Texas. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents growing up and I got my masters in Law and Psychology at Oxford when I was 19. I decided last year to get my PhD. Right now I'm studying for a Bachelor in Biomedical Engineering remotely from Johns Hopkins," She explained to the group as their straws slowly fell out of their mouths because their jaws were dropping.

"We have another Reid," Penelope giggled and Ivy could see across the table, even in the dark-lit room, how drunk she was.

"I try to be like the good doctor, where is he by the way?" She turned to Morgan and asked, instead of referring to the entire group.

"Bars aren't really his scene, mama. He doesn't mind not being here, believe me, we have tried to get him to come out with us," He laughed, and the girls nodded.

She noticed how little Hotch was contributing to the conversation, and sat in the same position with the same snarl on his face. He was busy noticing her mannerisms, making a mental note of them without even knowing. He realized she always crossed her legs when she was in a position where she had power. It showed her comfort levels with the group. He noticed the way her bangs almost perfectly swooped her forehead, only one straight black hair out of place although, it was quickly corrected.

"What do you do for fun, Ivy?" Penelope slurred to her a few hours later, the empty glasses piling up around her.

"Ballet, it keeps me exercised and disciplined," She explained, the words piquing the boss's interest.

"As long as you don't go all Black Swan on me, I think that's a good hobby," She slowly explained, taking her time to get the words out to make sure they were correct.

Ivy excused herself a few moments later to head to the bathroom. She was four, no five drinks into the night and still felt fine. She felt loose and free, taking in every moment with the team. She meant what she said to Pietro, DC is somewhere that, for once in her life, she wanted to put down roots. She wanted a life filled with laughter.

When she was finished, she headed straight to the bar again, attempting to push through the crowds of men gathered at the bar and aggressively screaming at the bartender. With her efforts family, she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her wrist and pull her forward.

"Are you okay?" The voice asked and when she could get a clear look, she realized that it was her boss.

"Yeah I'm fine, thanks," She shot him a smile, not knowing what to say next in a situation like theirs.

Apart from the shouting men around her, the world felt sort of quiet. That was until the conversation was struck.

"I didn't think of you as a ballet girl, Auclair," He teased her, it was completely unexpected.

"It keeps me fit and disciplined," She explained as he turned to face her, "I like to have a level of control in my life that I can latch onto."

"I can understand that. I spend a lot of time at the shooting range," He connected with her. The bartender suddenly chose her and Ivy quickly ordered again. "Whisky?"

"It has a good taste to it. I'm not here to get super drunk-"

"Like Penelope?" He joked and she laughed, something that until now, was an entirely foreign concept to them.

"Well, I wasn't going to say it," She smiled at him.

The conversation was light and allowed a sliver of a bond to begin to develop between the pair. They let the night escape them when they returned to the table, Hotch finally involving himself in the conversation and Ivy finally feeling as if she was a part of the team.

As the night moved on, the team shuffled around the table, changing seats and leaving to go to the bathroom. Eventually, that shuffle resulted in the pair sitting next to each other and thanks to their conversation, it stayed that way.

Time flew by until it reached the point where the bar was closing and Morgan was putting people in taxis to get them home.

"Okay so, JJ and Pen are gonna go together, please take care of her," He directed that comment to JJ who was already struggling to keep ahold of her, "Ivy, do you live anywhere near the South Corner apartment buildings?"

"I live in one, the Westerly," She mentioned, standing chillingly on the side of the road, waiting for Derek to dictate her taxi.

"I also live in that building, we'll take the same cab back," Hotch suggested, Ivy could tell he was also feeling the chilly evening. Derek had nodded to their suggestion, nearly pushing them into the taxi, sending it on its way.

They sat beside each other on the leather seats of the taxi, not knowing exactly what to do or say. Ivy was feeling some effects of the amount of alcohol she had consumed but, she could tell, by taking just one look at Hotch, that he was a victim of alcohol tonight and it would not be a pretty morning for him.

"I didn't know you lived in the same building as me," Ivy struck up a conversation with him, hearing a slight slur in her words.

"Neither did I, I'm surprised it took us this long to figure it out," His face formed a sort of half smile.

Ivy didn't know what to say to him or how to progress the conversation. She knew two things about this man. Number one, he had an extremely grumpy persona as the boss which led to him being a massive pain in the ass all the time and number two, he was someone she did not like. Why she felt the desperate need to talk to him in the silent taxi was beyond her.

Eventually, the car pulled up in front of their building and the pair hopped out. Hotch made an effort to get to the driver first, paying him for the journey and not allowing the girl to say a single thing about it. They walked together in the building, Ivy's heels clicking off the marble floor, until they reached the elevator.

"What floor?" He asked her, choosing his floor, floor sixteen, and waiting for her response.

"The top floor," She replied, catching Hotches attention.

"I'll walk you up," He sternly remarked, Ivy chose on this occasion not to attack his authority.

When they arrived, Hotch realised he had never been that high up in the building before. He also realised that there was only one apparently on the floor, and it was hers. The luxury she lived in dawned on him once again as he noticed her searching her back and fumbling to find her keys.

"Here, let me," He walked towards her and took her bag out of her hand. He found the keys in a matter of seconds and used them to open the front door.

"Thank you," She smiled as she took the first few steps inside.

With one look, Hotch couldn't help but profile her. It was something he was unaware he had started doing but, he subconsciously judged people based on their spaces. The interior was black and white, sleek. It looked like something from Architectural Digest that was meant to be looked at, not touched. She had no photographs up, none. There was a lack of personality in the apartment until he saw the bookshelf. He saw her favourites, classics, that were displayed with a variety of versions. Emma and Pride and Prejudice seemed to be the most notable with the most versions of the book being displayed.

He noticed how organized and clean the place was. Nothing was out of place. Apart from the two boxes by her door. They looked to have just arrived, labelled "Ivy's Things".

Maybe her personality got lost in the mail and it had just arrived.

"Thanks for walking me up, Hotch," She mentioned as she placed her bag down on the large white sofa, the one which faced the TV and grand fireplace.

"Not a problem. Do you live here alone?" He enticed conversation out of her, she knew he was trying to get more of an insight into her.

"I do, I own the place," He was shocked by that news. It was very surprising indeed that a 22-year-old owned such a luxurious place in DC.

"I see, well, goodnight Ivy," He turned to leave and then realized what he had said, he had said her first name.

"Goodnight, Aaron," He turned to see her smile and then closed the door behind him.

i hope you guys are enjoying this!!
next chapter is the cult chapter so let's see what happens there.......
keep commenting please it lets me know if you guys like where i'm taking this.

- Jamie