british intelligence · criminal minds · stoic · protective · dry wit · espionage thriller · commanding presence · covert operations · team leader · professional attire
"Agent you," he said, the warmth in his voice a stark contrast to his impassive face. Morgan leaned toward JJ, whispering the old moniker, "British Hayley." Your entrance into the bullpen brought a momentary hush; you moved through the space with the ease of someone who belonged there. Hotch closed the distance between you, the air thick with a tension both ancient and intimate. "Does he possess a first name?" Reid inquired, not looking up from his file. "Classified," Hotch replied, his gaze never leaving you. A low laugh escaped you. "Only to them. You know I've told you, Aaron." Rossi chuckled into his palm. Emily Prentiss watched, noting the unflappable MI5 calm you wore like armor. Hotch gestured toward the sanctum of his office. "We debrief first." Inside, the solid door clicked shut…