Summary – Story begins at the end of 'Unknown Subject'. My take on what happens between Hotch and Emily on the jet ride back to Quantico.
"I'm havin' a bad day."
Emily averted her eyes quickly, the admission only making it more real to her. Hotch frowned, having hoped that the day she came to him saying that exact thing wouldn't be happening so soon. But the fact of the matter was that she was having a bad day, and she was doing exactly what he'd asked her to. He felt a mixture of pride and sadness. Pride in Emily for telling him, but sadness because of what she was telling him. His first instinct was to reach across the table between them and grab her hand, but he quickly banished that from his mind. Hotch and Emily rarely, if ever, touched. It was an unspoken agreement between them after they'd admitted to being attracted to one another over drinks a few weeks before her 'death'. Once again, he cleared his mind, trying to focus on the here and now.
"Why are you having a bad day?" he asked quietly, still staring at her. "Was it because of what Regina said to you in the interrogation room?"
Emily briefly met his eyes. "Yeah," she said with a sigh. "That, and the case itself. I kept imagining it being me in their place, with Ian… with Doyle coming after me."
"Why do you always correct yourself when you say his name?" Hotch asked, tilting his head in interest.
Emily shrugged noncommittally.
"Too personal?"
"Yes," she replied. "Well, the question isn't. But that's the reason why I correct myself. We talked briefly about this once, remember?"
Hotch nodded. "I do remember. You said it was because you didn't like to remember that you had grown to enjoy his company."
"Oh, don't sugar coat it, Hotch. I fell in the love with the bastard."
Hotch put his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry."
"No, I am," she groaned, hanging her head in shame. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
Hotch stared at the top of her head, not knowing quite what to do with himself. He wanted to help her, but he wasn't sure how to proceed any further. He wanted to tread lightly, but Emily didn't seem to be in the mood for that. But at the same time, he didn't want to say anything that would bring up more bad memories that she hadn't been thinking about. In the past few months since her return, she'd shared a few things here and there with him, but she'd never started at the beginning. His heart sank when he saw her start to chew on one of her nails.
"Don't," he said loudly, reaching out and grasping her wrist. "You've been doing so well."
Emily's head snapped up and she looked at him with wide eyes. "You've paid attention?"
"Of course I have. I do care, you know."
"Yeah," she said with a humorless laugh, no longer meeting his eyes.
Hotch's eyebrows creased. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You said that you didn't care about anything other than how my behavior affects my job. I respect the fact that this is always going to be strictly professional, but I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't lie to me, Hotch."
He released her wrist as if it had burned him. "Prentiss," he breathed out. "Emily, look at me." He waited until she did as he said. "I have to say that. As your boss, I have to say that to you. Had we been somewhere other than where we are right now, I wouldn't have said that. I was speaking about what your therapist says. I have to put things down on paper that makes it look like I am your boss. I'm really sorry if you took me saying that as a general statement. I was speaking in regards to the therapist's findings."
Sudden tears filled Emily's eyes. He did care. He didn't realize how much it had hurt her when he'd said that. She had thought that they were friends, even closer now than they were a few months ago, but he had torn it shreds with a single sentence. And now… now he was her friend again. She bit her lip to keep from crying. But Hotch saw right through her. Caution going out the window, Hotch reached across the table and grabbed her hand. That was the last straw on Emily's emotions. She bowed her head and cried, hot tears sliding down both cheeks as Hotch squeezed her hand.
"Listen to me," he whispered, and Emily nodded, even though soft sobs were still leaving her. "Emily, you mean a lot to me. Not just as a subordinate. I'm… I'm invested. I do care about your behavior when in regards to work because I also care about the rest of the team. However, I care about you. I care about how you feel, how you sleep at night, if you have waking visions like I did. I know how this feels. I've been there, remember?"
Emily nodded, but emotion constricted her throat, leaving her unable to speak. She took comfort in his large, warm hand encasing hers, his thumb gently rubbing her wrist back and forth.
"I know I can't take that pain away from you, no matter how badly I want to. But I can be here for you. I can relate. I can do whatever it takes to help you through this, Em."
He heard her take in a sharp breath.
"What?" he asked quickly. "Did I say something that triggered a memory?"
"No," she insisted with a sniffle. "You just haven't called me 'Em' in a long time."
"Does that bother you?"
"No," she repeated. "It's just… it's nice to hear you say it, that's all. You used to say it all the time when we were alone."
"I'll go get you some tissues," he said after a minute, not sure how else to respond to her. He reluctantly let her hand go after another small squeeze.
Hotch was just getting to the kitchenette when he heard her footsteps. He waited until they stopped before he turned around. She was only a few inches from him, hers eyes bloodshot but dry. Her hand came up and she placed it on his upper arm over his suit coat, her feet shuffling a few centimeters closer. Hotch quickly noticed what she was thinking of doing. He stayed perfectly still, not wanting to encourage her, but also not wanting to scare her away, either. He didn't know what he wanted. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to reach out and grab her or if he wanted to keep her at an arm's length. She chose for him, her other hand also going to his bicep before she slid them both up his arms and put hers around his neck.
Emily felt him stiffen for only a split second before his arms wrapped around her waist. She breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that Hotch might not reciprocate, or that he'd push her away, as she always felt he'd done since they admitted having some kind of feelings for one another a long time ago. He held her so tightly, so close, so tenderly. Emily turned her face into Hotch's neck, a flash of black and light blue crossing her vision before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. Hotch rested his cheek against her hair, smelling the scent that was uniquely Emily. His arms overlapped across the small of her back, his hands opening against her soft shirt as she rested her weight against his sturdy frame. She felt safe and wanted, protected and comforted… she felt like she was home.
"Thank you," she whispered into his neck.
Hotch could feel her lips moving against his collar, and he suddenly wondered what they'd feel like against his skin that was just a breath away. "I didn't ask you to make that deal with me as your boss. Just so you know."
"What deal?" she asked, the smell of his cologne wafting through her sinuses washing away any thoughts from her mind.
"To tell me that you're having a bad day," he reminded her, his fingers flexing against her back.
"I know that now."
A silence fell between them and they both felt the slight awkwardness that settled in as their minds began to process what they were doing. They were hugging. Hotch and Emily. Hugging. It wasn't as if they didn't enjoy it, because oh, were they enjoying it. But it wasn't normal for them. They both knew it only a minute or two into the hug. At the realization, neither had the nerve to pull back, afraid of what the consequences would be. After an immeasurable amount of time, Hotch was the one who slowly began untangling himself from her. Emily stepped back once she figured out what he was doing, causing his hands to rest on her hips. He paused. It was the pause that Emily had seen a hundred times in the movies. But she knew that Hotch wouldn't…
He kissed her.
Out of nowhere, he pulled her back in and pressed his lips against hers. Emily gasped, and Hotch took that as a sign to deepen the kiss. Without thought, his tongue slid past her plump red lips and scoured her mouth. She reciprocated in kind, her hands cupping his jaw as she kissed him back. Hotch lost his footing and slammed back into the counter of the kitchenette, Emily going with him. He wound his arms around her, his hands suddenly unable to stay still began fisting her shirt and roaming the length of her spine. Emily's hands raked into his short black hair, her nails slowly massaging his scalp as they kissed deeply.
Something snapped between them, all the barriers, all the walls, everything they had built up as a dam to protect themselves from the other came crumbling down around them. Hotch boldly lifted Emily by the legs, which instantly went about his hips. He turned them and set her on the counter, a perfect height in order to keep her long legs encircled around him. It felt like hours and hours until the kiss was broken, both of them panting for breath. His fingers dug into her hips when she ducked her head and replaced her lips at his collar; this time they finally made contact with his skin. He gasped very quietly as she left a trail of wet kisses up to his jaw, on his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He couldn't take it anymore. He ravaged her mouth then, nipping and sucking on her full bottom lip, the small gasps coming from Emily spurring him on.
But then his phone rang. Within the length of a breath, the little world they had just created was shattered. They both paused, and Emily nodded in understanding when he gave her a worried look. He left one hand on her hip and reached into his suit pocket.
"Hotchner," he barked into the phone, but not moving away from Emily so she could run from this like he knew she would.
"Hotch, it's JJ. I just wanted to let you know we landed safely. How long until you and Emily arrive?"
Hotch cleared his throat. "About an hour."
"Did you want us to wait?"
"No, go home. We'll debrief in the morning," he said in a clipped tone before hanging up the phone and setting it on the counter. Emily was looking down, as he assumed she would be. "Emily."
"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to take it this far, and we can just forget it ever happened."
Hotch sighed. He brought his hands to her face and brushed her hair to the side. He tilted her head until she looked at him. "That isn't what I want."
"What do you want?" she asked, her eyes searching his.
"Honestly, I haven't thought beyond just kissing you. But I know that I don't want this just to be a makeout session that we never talk about or explore again."
Emily nodded her agreement. "Same here."
"I… I know that you said you were attracted me a long time ago."
"It hasn't changed," she interrupted.
Hotch smiled. "That's a good thing, then. My feelings run a little deeper than just attraction," he told her.
"Mine do, too," she replied quietly, a smile spreading across her beautiful face.
"I am a little worried, though," he said.
Emily's face fell and she nodded solemnly. "Okay. Okay, just tell me what it is."
"I'll never be the perfect man. I don't poop in a box. And I hog the covers."
Emily burst out laughing, which made Hotch laugh, too. In a move that surprised him, Emily leaned in and kissed him, but pulled back only a few seconds later. She met his eyes and started to laugh again.
"Hotch."
"Aaron," he corrected.
"Aaron," she said slowly, testing the name she rarely used, even when in private. She liked it. "Aaron, if you pooped in a box, I'd be a little concerned."
Hotch laughed. "Good to know. We're going to be landing in a little while. We should probably go sit down."
"Will you sit with me?" she asked while batting her eyelashes.
"Only if I can hold your hand."
"Deal."
A/N – Even if it's just a smiley face or a thousand word review, I'd love to hear what you think of this! Please take a moment out to review! Thank you!