A/N: I always believed that when Hotch worked security for Emily's Mother something happened between them. This is my idea of what might have happened that summer. Please leave me some reviews. This will be my longest story so far and I would really appreciate all the feedback I can get!
That Summer
The moment that she had boarded the plane bound for home, Emily Prentiss knew she was going to have yet another terrible summer. Although the apartment she lived in throughout the year was still paid for during the summer months, her Mother had insisted two years in a row she be home once her examinations were over. And nobody denied the Ambassador her requests.
Now, it was late in the afternoon and although she was curled up in one of the many rooms in the house with her legs thrown over the arms of a chair she knew the peace wouldn't last. Her nose was buried in Breakfast of Champions which, although it was not her favourite, came pretty close to Slaughterhouse Five. It was not, unfortunately, good enough to distract her from the sound of the door opening and the instant twitch of dread that her Mother had found her.
At first she didn't look up, hoping it was just a maid. But when the person in the doorway didn't announce themselves, she glanced over her shoulder.
A man in a black suit and tie stood in the doorway. He was young, probably not much older than herself, with her Mother's crest pinned to his jacket and an earpiece clinging to the side of his head.
"Did you need something?" She snapped, not unlike her around her Mother's nosy security.
"No, Miss Prentiss. I didn't realize you were already home from school. Welcome home, Miss Prentiss." The man replied coolly before turning and leaving the room. Emily reclined back into the chair, frowning. It was not unlike the staff to speak to be short with her, but it was unusual that they were that frigid. She didn't think twice about it.
A while later she was interrupted again by Alexander, the head of security. Alexander was without a doubt her favourite on the staff. He had been with them since childhood and remained a valued friend and father figure.
"The Ambassador is looking for you, Emily." Alexander told her stiffly.
"Did she say what for?" She asked and the greying man just cocked an eyebrow at her. Emily laughed. "Of course not. Well, duty calls I suppose."
"When does duty not call for your Mother?" He replied, walking with her down the hall to her mother's study. Inside the room, her Mother was seated at the desk talking in rapid Arabic while five of the security detail stood around, straight as arrows. She did not recognize any of them.
"Emily, sit." She barked, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. Rolling her eyes in Alexander's direction she did as she was told and waited until finally the Ambassador hung up the phone.
"Young lady I understand how little interest you have in doing anything that resembles work over the summer," Her Mother began, critically, "But while you're here you will be expected to attend every event we host. Is that understood?"
Emily winced, remembering the previous night when she had slipped away from the dinner party her mother was hosting. Before dinner had even been served.
"You are my daughter and it is unbelievable humiliating to have to create some false account of where you've disappeared off to. I swear to you, Emily, if you do not behave as the perfect young woman for the rest of your stay here, you will not be returning to Yale in the fall."
"Yes, Mother." She replied icily.
"Do not try me here, Emily. You know as well as I do that one phone call to that school and you are finished."
"Yes Mother."
"That being said, I've assigned Mr. Hotchner to be your security throughout the summer." She gestured to one of the suits. A flicker of surprise crossed her face when she realized it was the man earlier, from the library. He stared at her, hard and even. "Mr. Hotchner will ensure that you are at every function and that you do not spend your summer… frolicking the way you did when we were in Europe. Am I clear?"
"Yes Mother." Emily snapped.
"Watch your tone, young lady. I will also not have you holed up in that library every day." The Ambassador warned, her stare piercing. "There are better things you could spend your time doing than reading those fantasies.
"Yes Mother. May I go now?" She asked, barely hiding the rage that was boiling over into her voice.
"You may go prepare for supper. Our guests will be here at six."
"Thank you, Mother." Emily replied shortly, standing to leave.
"Mr. Hotchner will be at your door at six o'clock to escort you downstairs." Her Mother called after her. Emily didn't stop herself from slamming the door shut behind her. It was going to be a long freaking summer.
At exactly six o'clock, Emily was not surprised to hear the sharp rap at her door. Her initial instinct was to ignore it but if she was expected to spend the whole summer with this man, she was already off on a bad start.
"Come in," She called while she touched up her mascara.
"Miss Prentiss," Hotchner said stiffly. When he entered she glanced over at him. He was in the same suit and tie from early but now that she was seeing him up close he was much younger than she had initially suspected. They were practically the same age.
"Emily." She said.
"Excuse me?"
"You can call me Emily." She asserted.
"I don't think the Ambassador would find that quite appropriate." He replied stiffly.
"I don't believe the Ambassador is here at the moment. Emily, please." She insisted, hiking up her dress and slipping black heels. "I'm sorry if we got off to a bad start earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you." She explained, pinning back her hair.
"It's completely alright, Miss. Prentiss." He told her, just as coolly.
"Do you always talk to people this way?"
"Yes."
"You're sure it's not just with me?"
"Of course not, Miss. Prentiss." He assured her, just as toneless. She sighed and decided perhaps the night would go quicker in silence.
It didn't. Emily was seated next to the son of the Spanish Ambassador, who was only a year older than her. Unfortunately somewhere in his development he took on the persona of a Spanish stallion, constantly demanding attention and throwing back his long black hair in a display of vanity.
At one point the man was telling her about his villa just outside Madrid as he did so threw his hair back over his shoulder and gave her a flawless, pearl white smile. Emily almost laughed, the movement was so ridiculous and when she met Hotchner's eye across the dining room she even saw a bit of a smirk.
Emily excused herself before dessert to the ladies room and could feel her Mother's eyes on her. Instantly, Hotchner followed behind her at a respectable distance. When she was outside the room and far enough from servant ears she turned on him.
"I'm just going to the bathroom. Can't I have a minute to myself?" She snapped.
"Miss. Prentiss, I'm just doing what your Mother is paying me to do. I won't be following you into the ladies room if that's what you're worried about." He replied, his tone just as cold and bland as before.
"Have I done something to make you angry?" Emily demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. The dress she was wear slipped lower on her cleavage and for a moment she saw his eyes flicker there.
"Excuse me?" He demanded, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Why are you treating me like some child you have to follow around and pick up after? I understand we got off to the wrong foot and I already apologized for snapping at you but I'm not completely sure of why you're being such an asshole right now."
"I'm just doing my job, Miss Prentiss." He replied frostily.
"Is it your job to be an asshole?" She pushed.
"Miss Prentiss, if you wouldn't mind using the ladies room so we can get back to dinner before you get us both into trouble." Hotchner snapped, gesturing towards the bathroom door.
"I do mind. What's your problem with me, Hotchner? Have I done something to mortally offend you already?"
"Miss. Prentiss–"
"It's Emily and I have no intention of going back to dinner until you tell me what the hell your problem is?" Emily leaned up against the bathroom door, fuming.
"When I was assigned to your Mother's detail I did not picture myself babysitting her spoil brat of a daughter all summer. I want to be here just as little as you want me around so please, use the goddamn bathroom and go back to the dinner." Hotchner snapped at her.
"I am not spoiled! You don't even know me!" She cried, throwing up her hands. "You think I want to be here? Are you under the impression I come home and live off Mommy all summer because I'm too lazy to work for myself? You heard her this morning. If she calls Yale I'm finished there. Sure, my SATs were high enough to get into any school in the country but if the Ambassador calls and demands her daughter be removed from the program the school does not think twice. I am here under duress, Agent Hotchner, and not for lack of trying to get away. I work just as hard as you, or anyone else."
Hotchner sighed and Emily visibly saw him give in.
"I'm sorry. You're right. I don't know you and I'm frustrated. Forgive me. Let's just go back to the dinner." He suggested, his tone softer.
"Thank you." She murmured, finally walking into the bathroom.
When she returned he was still standing there, patiently waiting for her. He was murmuring to someone over the mouthpiece but stopped instantly and stood just the slightest bit straighter.
"Do we have to go back?" She sighed, glancing towards the dining room abuzz with chatter. Hotchner sighed along with her, even twitching a smile.
"We do."
"How about I watch the room and you sit next to the Spanish stallion?" Emily suggested, wandering down the hallway.
"The what?" Hotchner scoffed.
"You know, the Spanish Ambassador's son. He acts like a vain horse."
"He really does," Hotchner agreed, chuckling softly.
Emily stopped him at the doorway with a hand on his arm. "I just realized I don't even know your name. If you're going to be spending the entire summer with me you could at least tell me your name. I don't particularly like the idea of calling you 'Mr. Hotchner' all summer."
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Hotchner deadpanned. Was he teasing her?
"Please?"
"Hotchner is fine." He insisted.
"Guess it'll have to be a nickname then." Emily teased. "What about Stiff?" She suggested. He frowned at her. "Grumpy?" A deeper frown. "Oh! I know! Hotch?"
"I guess that would be fine," He grumbled, leading her back into the dining hall. The hand he placed on her back, although it was just to give her a nudge in the right direction, send a wave of heat through her body. Emily flushed and stepped away.
"Guess I better get back to my stallion. See you later, Hotch." Emily told him perkily, returning to her seat beside the Spanish Ambassador's son. For the rest of the night she could feel his eyes on her. Not in a creepy or obvious way, but more in a please-don't-see-me-watching-you sort of way that made the butterflies in her stomach take flight.
By the time dinner was over Hotch had disappeared on some errand for her Mother and she wandered off to her room alone. As she fell asleep that night she thought maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad. Especially not if she was going to spend many more evenings, potentially alone, with Agent Hotch.