WIP Wednesday from my con artist au fic
Eddie's stopped dead in his tracks by the man climbing out of the pool in front of him.
Broad shoulders taper into a strong, hair-covered chest and an abdomen subtly cut with muscle. His navy-blue swim trunks sit low on his hips, revealing the v of his pelvis and the line of dark hair running from his belly button, down down to where his sodden swim shorts leave very little to the imagination. Cascades of chlorinated water pour over his golden-tanned skin.
Eddie can’t stop staring, his mouth hanging open at the absolute vision in front of him. He watches droplets of water carve their way across all that skin; traces lines between the moles and freckles; can’t drag his gaze away as the broad, long-fingered hands swipe a veritable sheet of dark hair out of his face. And fuck what a face. Hard, square jaw and pink, plump lips and wide brown eyes, puppy-dog soft, almost too perfect to be real.
Eddie's got to get his shit together, can’t be caught gaping at this guy like a fool. Before he can even start reeling it in, the beautiful, impossible, gorgeous guy stands in front of him, little smirk on his perfect mouth.
“Hi,” the guy says. And, oh, fuck, it’s not enough to have a perfect everything, he also sounds like a goddamn angel?
“Hey,” Eddie manages.
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i just wanted to share a little musing on why i think it's actually vital that kim was not around for the full-blown saul goodman transformation - reasons beyond, "saul is a sleazy jerk and obviously had no one he cared about, so they had to match established canon."
i know a lot of us theorized for years that maybe she WAS secretly behind the scenes during brba era, running her own practice or helping him out of sight, and maybe there's some way that they could've finagled it to make it work and have all the scumminess be merely a front to protect her, but after the events of S6, i'm relieved they didn't go that way. that would've been a kim stripped of her essence, her strength. that would've made what howard said to her seem true, and it wasn't. i know there's been a lot of talk, from me included, about kim essentially erasing herself and imploding in self-punishment/self-recrimination, and she did, but the choice to leave was also her clawing for any remnant of her soul that she could possibly still salvage. her staying - and worse, being okay with - saul as we know he becomes is a FAR worse tragedy, as devastating as the breakup is. she still loves him fiercely, but she knows she has to get out. watching kim erode as significantly as jimmy-as-saul does would've been horrifying, and there's an even bigger factor here - she could never have come back from that. to me, that's a much bleaker story. there is no hope for her in that story. there is only poison without antidote. if she were still with him for those events, her narrative would be far more damning for her. where would the chance be for her to ever climb out of that?
but she's gone. it may have been an act of self-loathing and self-sacrifice as much as it was self-protection, but she fled the warped image she knew she was becoming - and from that heartache and destruction, something new can grow. leaving gives her the chance of finding something in herself to hold on to again. it gives her the chance to slowly heal and rebuild. it hurts like hell that they couldn't do that together, it's supposed to, but there's resilience in her choice.
if she hadn't left, i'd be sure they were doomed. never to find one another again, never to have a chance at redemption (separately or together), or maybe even reunion (even if it's bittersweet and momentary). her leaving gives her possibility. gives her agency. i save me. and maybe, just maybe, it will grant her the power to help save him too, whatever that looks like or means. i feel that reconciliation of jimmy's arc won't even be possible without her in some way.
this is a tragedy, but the thing is - the tragedy has already happened now. we've seen it, or we know what it's coming to, we only don't know the final resolution. it doesn't have to be dismal and harsh - i'd argue neither brba nor el camino are! they both have breaths of humanity and recovery woven into their conclusions, and that's a far darker journey of the soul than bcs is in many respects. poignancy is not a false note to strike here. i don't believe kim's arc is finished. hope doesn't exist on its own, there has to be grief and loss to make it distinct, to make it matter. and you can't have a reunion without first being parted.
there's a line i keep thinking about (from shakespeare or shirley jackson, respectively): journeys end in lovers meeting. there's a metaphor in it about being intertwined irrevocably, being destined to find each other over and over again. one ends happily, one decidedly does not, but i still keep thinking about those lines, and wondering whether we might end on something in the middle.
what's to come is still unsure. /// I have spent an all but sleepless night, I have told lies and made a fool of myself, and the very air tastes like wine. I have been frightened half out of my foolish wits, but I have somehow earned this joy; I have been waiting for it for so long.
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forever is the sweetest con: chapter one
Chapter One: Genesis
A/N: hello there. glad to have you. I've got this posted on Ao3 already, but I've decided to crosspost here. Here we go.
Summary:
If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why. It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.
OR
Hotch/Reid through the years and what happens when things are left unsaid.
~000~
If asked now, he’d say it was obvious. Where things were going- where they’d always been going since that day in February, when the sharp chill of the Georgia air hardly touched the team when compared to the way fear turned their blood to ice in their veins.
In Aaron Hotchner’s veins, when the call came in.
JJ was gone, no one could reach her.
And Reid- Spencer- was gone, still, when they did eventually find her.
If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why.
It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.
“I choose-” He watched on in desperate fear, eyes never leaving the screen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, to look away, to close his eyes when he knew any second how that trigger could be pulled and Spencer Reid would disappear in front of him. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”
All eyes turned to him, but he remained frozen. He heard the sharp intake of breath from his left, felt JJ’s eyes slide over his expression. His face remained neutral, schooled thanks to years in this role. He, despite what Reid might say, had the best poker face of them all.
“He’s a classic narcissist.” Hotch watched intently as Reid continued, looking for any slight of hand, any tell Reid could be giving. It was a message, and he knew that. He just needed the cipher. Come on, Reid, he thought. I need more than that. You’ve got to give me more than that.
“He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4-” He burned the words into his memory. He needed to remember that, he knew it. He knew Reid. “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, falseness, vanity, and futility. For these shall be his recompense-”
Thank you, Reid, his eyes finally, finally slid shut as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Thank you.
He turned on his heel, exiting the room. Out in the living room of that old, dank house, Hotch retrieved the bible left on the side table.
“I’m not a narcissist-” He started, ready to start translating Reid’s message.
“Come on, Aaron, you can’t take anything he said personally-”
“No, Gideon, stop, stop-” He snapped, frustrated. That’s not the point, how do you not get it? His mind raced, and he briefly wondered if this was how Reid felt every moment of the day. “Everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?”
The team stared at him blankly, and the wild streak of anger and impatience he worked so hard to control flared again. That’s not the fucking point, he wanted to scream at them. It’s right in front of you and you’re all missing it. “Stop worrying about hurting my fucking feelings- tell me, now. My worst quality. I’ll start. I have no sense of humor. Prentiss?”
“You trust men more than women.”
“Okay, JJ?”
“You’re a bully.”
“Alright, I’m a bully. Morgan, go.”
“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes.”
“Good, I’m all of those things,” And he was, he wasn’t blind to his own faults. Everything they had said was true, but- “Yet, none of you said I put myself above the team because I don’t. Ever.” Still, they didn’t get it, and he groaned in frustration. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism on the way here. He knew that I would remember that.”
“Hotch, we know you’re not a narcissist, man-”
“That’s not the point.” He finally snapped. “That’s not the fucking point, listen-” He looked up and finally, finally, he had their attention. “He quoted it wrong. Genesis chapter 23, verse 4, look-” He lifted the scripture into the light and read the correct quotation aloud. “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you, give me property for a burial place among you, that I might bury my dead out of my sight.” It registered with Gideon first, and Aaron could breathe a bit easier. “He wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose.” He insisted, holding eye contact. “He wouldn’t.”
“He’s in a cemetery.” Morgan muttered, and now Hotch could take a real breath.
The rest moved quickly. He did it, he found Reid, they were there and he just had to find where in the cemetery-
Then the shot rang out from just over the hill Aaron’s own two feet were standing on, and everything slowed down again as he ran towards it. “Reid!” He shouted. “Spencer!”
Not like this. Please, just not like this.
“Hotch?!” He doesn’t remember getting there. He doesn’t remember his path from the top of the hill down to the bottom, or who was following in his wake. He just remembers the relief flooding his chest as he pulled Spencer Reid off the earth and into his arms.
“You okay?” He muttered, one hand wrapped firmly around Reid’s waist while the other cradled his head.
“I knew you’d understand.” Spencer choked on a sob and tightened his hold, tears staining the collar of Hotch’s shirt. “I knew you’d understand.”
And so it began.
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