One of the Exceptions

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own Criminal Minds or its wonderful characters, yada yada, ad valorem, e pluribus unum, and all other necessary legal jargon to cover my tushie. If you recognize anything randomly mentioned in the story (especially a proper noun), it doesn't belong to me. Savvy?

Starts at the end of episode 7x02. AU from there.

Chapter 1

Pasta and Life

Aaron

The last few weeks had been surreal. Between the sandstorms in the desert, the whirlwind chase that led to Ian Doyle's demise and Emily's safe return, and the courtroom drama where the fate of the BAU hung precariously in the balance, SSA Hotchner was surprised that his head wasn't spinning on his neck like the girl from The Exorcist. Instead, he was lined up behind a kitchen island with the rest of his team, watching David Rossi make spaghetti and smiling more than he had in years.

It occurred to him as Dave passed out a handful of noodles and educated them with gusto on al dente texture that he had plenty of reasons to smile. Tomorrow, he'd be seeing Jack; not via Skype with a dusty glare on his screen, but face to face, where he could hold him and feel him in his arms. And tonight, he was with the rest of his 'family.' Granted, there was still a bit of tension between a few of them, but they were all together, healthy and laughing. From where Hotch was sitting, that was definitely a reason for cheer.

He appreciated each and every one of them as he clinked his wine glass to theirs. Rossi, the man who had become his best friend and their gregarious host, who was clearly getting a kick out of being the center of attention. Prentiss, back from the dead and out of hiding, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her now that her reason to live in fear was gone. Reid, eyes still stinging with hurt but unable to stay away, clinging close to JJ's side like a lost puppy. JJ, visibly shaken by Reid's anger and her own guilt, but eager to be forgiven and for things to get back to normal. Morgan, strangely quiet and exhausted now that his personal quest to bring Doyle to justice was over, but clearly glad Emily was back. And, last but not least, Garcia, energetic and ever ready to help and please, a blessed reminder that despite the horror they saw every day, there was still innocence and goodness in the world.

It had come as a surprise to Hotch when Garcia had asked if the seat next to him was taken. Wasn't she supposed to be wrapped around one of Morgan's beefy arms, flirting with him shamelessly? Had things changed so much while he was gone, or had the desert sun fried his brain? Not that he minded, he decided quickly. Her closeness was a welcome feeling. There was a reason he often sought out the sweet, bubbly tech analyst after their more trying cases, and it wasn't just to thank her for a job well done. It was a reason he would never speak aloud or acknowledge too deeply within himself as long as Derek was the axis on which Penelope's world spun, but perhaps that was no longer the case. He would have to keep his eyes and ears open to know for sure.

Morgan and Reid were the first to leave the party. Hotch could still detect some awkwardness between Reid, Prentiss and JJ, but tonight had been a good first step in rebuilding their trust in one another. JJ had been the next to go, excusing herself so she could see Henry before Will put him to bed; then Emily, who hugged Rossi and thanked him for getting everyone together; and finally Garcia, who'd insisted on staying behind to help clean up since the cooking tutorial was on her behalf. At last, it was just the two men on the back deck, sipping pinot noir while the crickets chirped.

"So, it's all about timing and rhythm, huh?" Hotch mused, echoing Rossi's words earlier that night.

"In pasta and in life," Rossi confirmed, downing the last of his wine. "She'll be okay, Aaron."

"What are you talking about?" Aaron wondered.

"JJ. I noticed you kept an eye on her to make sure she felt included."

"It was the least I could do," Hotch muttered. "Keeping Emily's secret was my decision, but JJ is the one who paid the price for it."

"Reid will get over it. He showed up tonight," Rossi pointed out, "and you couldn't have pried him off JJ's side with a crowbar. Of course, you know why he was more hurt with her than he was with you or Emily."

Hotch gave him a tight-lipped nod. Spencer wore his heart on his sleeve, and JJ's name was scrawled into it like a tattoo. He'd always known, as had Gideon, who once gave the youngest agent football tickets to share with 'the only person who called him Spence.' Even her marriage to Will couldn't dampen his devotion. It was touching, albeit tragic.

"You once said you were more married to this team than you had been to three ex-wives," Aaron recalled aloud. "I think we all know that feeling, to some degree. And it doesn't seem to be curable."

"What are you implying, Aaron?" Rossi scoffed.

He shot him a meaningful glance. "I know how glad you are that Prentiss is back."

The older Italian made light of it. "We're all glad she's back."

Hotch levelly sipped his wine while his brown eyes challenged Rossi's fib.

"All right," Dave backtracked a step, "maybe I'm a little more glad than some people. Doesn't mean I'm going to act on it."

"You knew she was alive," Hotch murmured, "and I don't think it's just because you're good at your job. A hunch based on JJ's or my micro-expressions at the hospital wouldn't have been enough for you to form an opinion. She got in touch with you, didn't she?"

Rossi smirked. "Very good, Aaron. For a while there, you were falling behind."

"You weren't going to tell me?" Hotch accused.

"Right now, there's nothing to tell. We're just good friends," Dave admitted. "Emily's dealt with her past, but I still need to face mine. I'm not going to commit again until I can be sure that this time, it's for life. She deserves that."

"You'll figure it out," Aaron encouraged. "You already bicker like an old married couple, so at least you've gotten that out of the way."

"Very funny," Rossi said drolly, while Hotch chuckled at his expense. He topped off both their glasses then sank back into his chair. "So, did you notice anything different about the rest of our little family?"

"Morgan was pretty quiet." Hotch tilted his head. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I saw him talk to Garcia tonight, and that is unusual. Should I be concerned?"

"Here's what I know," Rossi began, leaning forward and folding his hands. "Those two used to be thick as thieves, but these last few months, something's changed. Morgan has all but stopped calling Garcia from the field. The pet names and innuendo? History. And I'm pretty sure they've stopped spending time together outside of work. What does that tell you?"

Aaron considered that. "Maybe Garcia's boyfriend got tired of competing for her attention and asked him to back off."

"What boyfriend?" Rossi posed, surprising him. "If you're talking about that geeky kid who once demanded we talk man to man, he's gone."

"Kevin Lynch?" Hotch supplied, taken aback. Although he hadn't seen things get serious between the two tech analysts, he knew they'd been together for several years.

"That's the one. While you were in Pakistan, he was taking a job with the CIA and kissing both Garcia and the FBI goodbye."

Aaron's jaw tightened. Despite her cheerful disposition, Hotch knew Penelope was easily wounded. He also knew she was a talented actress; she could fool the team if she needed to, letting them think all was well to keep them from worrying. "How is she handling it?"

"Seems to be okay. She was a little upset at first, but she bounced back," Dave related. "To be honest, I never understood what she saw in that guy. He ate bacon doughnuts. Who does that? That's like a crime against food."

"Garcia sees the best in people," Hotch murmured, mentally making a note to check on her himself. "Maybe she saw something there that we didn't."

"She'd just come out of major life-saving surgery when they met," Dave remembered. "It's more likely that the anesthesia hadn't quite worn off."

After a shared moment of levity, Hotch stared into his wine glass. "What do you think's going on with Morgan?"

"He's been obsessed with finding Doyle for months. Now that Doyle's dead and Emily's okay, he's starting to relax," Rossi surmised. "But that doesn't explain whatever's going on between him and Garcia."

"I'll see what I can find out," Aaron murmured. "The last thing we need is another rift in the team."

"I'm surprised you didn't find anything out tonight," Dave remarked, donning a mischievous grin. "You were sitting between them."

"What does that mean?" he defended, arching a dark brow.

"Only that maybe you're not any more immune to the 'love among the BAU' disease than the rest of us," Rossi quipped. "At least, that's how I interpreted the fact that you couldn't stop smiling and glancing at her out of the corner of your eye."

Hotch inwardly cursed, glaring. "You know the rules about fraternizing, Dave."

"Sure I do. I'm the reason most of them exist," he crowed proudly. "Rules like that were made to be broken. Besides, we both know our team isn't exactly diligent about following rules we don't like."

Aaron cringed. He couldn't deny it.

"Just think about it," Dave said, graciously ending the conversation before it got even more embarrassing for him. "In the meantime, there's one more interesting piece of news: Strauss is in rehab."

"Again?" Hotch shook his head. As big a thorn in his side as she'd been, he did pity the woman. At least she was getting help.

"That means you're in charge," Rossi nodded. "And to be honest, I'm perfectly ready to hand over the reins. I love the job, but I can live without the politics."

"So could I," Hotch sighed. "But all things considered, I'm glad to be home."

Rossi stood and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's good to have you back, mi amice. Now are you positively stuffed, or do you have room for some cannoli?"