Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were.
A/N: Many thanks to mingsmommy and losingintranslation for all their help. It is truly appreciated. Set after my story Say Something. You don't have to read that one but I'd like it if you did. :D
"We need to draw him out. Prentiss, maybe you could do some bar hopping. You and J.J." Hotch says without looking up, tension staining his voice. "Girls' night out."
The team has been in Syracuse now for almost three weeks. Twenty-one days without stopping the rapist. He's escalating and now Hotch wants to use her as bait. It's not the first time. Probably won't be the last. With a sigh she starts to think about what she has in her go bag and if she'll have to buy an outfit that will attract all the wrong kinds of attention.
"No." Rossi snaps and Hotch's head jerks up.
Shit. She looks up and Dave's eyes are boring into her. His jaw is set and he's shaking his head and Hotch is staring at him like he's gone crazy.
Finally, Hotch breaks the silence. "Is there a problem, Dave?"
Morgan is looking between the three of them and she can almost see the wheels turning in his head. "You know, I think I need to go…" He stands up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. But not before she sees the grin spread across his face. She knows he's out there now, looking for J.J. so they can whisper about what they've been suspecting for a month.
"I'll go." Emily turns to Rossi, "I'll be fine. That's what you guys are for."
"Emily," he draws her name out in a way that makes her want to throttle him. "I can't let you do that."
Fury flashes through her, hot and brittle. "Let me? You can't let me?" She barks out a laugh. "I can do my job, Rossi. I don't need your permission."
He starts to reply but then Hotch is standing up, staring at them, hands braced on the table. "Obviously there is something I don't know. Does one of you want to fill me in?" His head swings back and forth between them.
"No," she says.
"She's pregnant," he says.
And her heart sinks. This isn't how Hotch is supposed to find out. Her anger at his betrayal is fierce, burning through her in a white hot wave. She shoots Rossi a look that should have reduced him to ashes. Instead, he just looks at her with a calm assurance which was one of the things that attracted her to him in the first place. Right now, though, it merely serves to ratchet her anger up another notch.
She's had eleven days to get used to the idea of them as a family. Eleven days of being excited about the baby and the future. Now, she doesn't know what to think, what to do. If this is Rossi's idea of fatherhood then they will never make this work. And the idea of doing this alone scares her more than she is willing to admit.
From the corner of her eye she can see Hotch watching them, his eyebrows drawn down in that scowl he wears when he's really pissed off. His eyes are moving back and forth and then he gets it and his eyebrows go in the other direction, now it's almost hitting his hairline.
"What the hell…?" He breaks off and runs a hand through his hair. "Damnit!"
He moves to the door and jerks it open, calling J.J. over. "See if the locals have somebody working for them that meets the victim profile. I need you to brief her and get ready hit the bars on Graves Street." Before J.J. can do more than nod he's closing the door and turning back to face them. "Okay. Now I want an explanation."
Emily sucks in a deep breath. "I am pregnant. But that doesn't mean I can't do my job."
"It's too dangerous." Rossi's voice is the same unruffled tenor that usually makes her body clench in anticipation, but right now she can't think about anything but the desire to disappear.
He looks so calm. How can he look so calm when he just threw me under the bus with Hotch? "Sitting in a bar with J.J., drinking club soda is dangerous?"
Now he leans forward, his dark eyes pinning her to her chair. "Making yourself bait for some psychopath is dangerous, Prentiss."
"Enough." Hotch cuts this off, his voice deceptively soft. He tugs at the knot in his tie, loosening it then unbuttoning his collar. "There are rules against fraternization. Rules the two of you obviously chose to ignore."
"Aaron," Rossi begins but a knock at the door cuts him off.
"Come in," Hotch snaps and J.J. eases the door open.
"Excuse me," she murmurs. "I found someone to do the bar scene tonight. She's vice so she knows the ropes." Her eyes dart toward Emily and then away.
"Good. Get everything set up. We'll be done here in a minute."
"Yes, sir." And the door closes behind her.
Hotch shoves his hands onto hips and moves to stand in front of the window. For a long time he doesn't speak, simply stares out into the parking lot. Emily can feel her anger rising with every jerk of the second hand as it moves around the clock.
"I'm not sure how to deal with this, and I don't have time to think about it right now. We have a rapist to catch." Hotch turns now, his dark eyes burning with anger. "Emily, would you get the rest of the team? I need you all back here in ten minutes." He doesn't wait for an answer. "Dave, you stay."
She opens her mouth to speak, but something in her boss' eyes tells her now is not a good time. Pressing her lips together, she does as he asked.
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"What the hell were you thinking, Dave?" Hotch asks quietly as he drops into his chair.
He wants to laugh, wants to tell Hotch that when a woman like Emily Prentiss makes a pass at you, you don't think about much except what she's doing or saying. He wants to tell him that when she invites you into her bed, into her life, you say a prayer of gratitude. You say a prayer of thanks and you spend every minute you can with her because she is real and precious and, apparently, fertile. But he knows he's said more than Hotch wants to hear already. "I can't let her go out in the field, Aaron. Surely, you understand that."
"That's not what I mean and you know it." Hotch rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "Damn, Strauss is going to have a field day with this one."
"I'll deal with Strauss." He almost laughs because he knows that Erin Strauss isn't nearly as scary as Emily Prentiss. "I'll take full responsibility."
"You bet your ass you will." Hotch's mouth is tight and his cheeks are flushed. "Is this going to be a problem? I can't afford to lose either of you but I can't have anymore issues like this. Are we clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good." Hotch leans forward, his elbows on the table, his voice softening, indicating his shift from boss to friend. "What are you going to do? About Emily?"
"Do?" He can feel his own anger rising. "She's having my child. What exactly do you think I'm going to do?"
"You don't have the best track record."
He rubs a hand over his beard, smoothing it, buying time. He meets his friend's eyes, holding his gaze. "I'm not the man I was eleven years ago, Aaron."
Hotch chuffs out a laugh. "All evidence to the contrary."
This time it's Morgan who knocks.
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J.J. and Detective Worth are working their way through the bars on Graves street while Emily and Hotch sit in a non-descript sedan that practically screams cop. The earpiece is blaring hip hop in her ear and she is straining to hear the women's conversation over the noise.
"Emily," Hotch's baritone breaks through the music and she turns to look at him. "Despite how I found out, I needed to know."
She gives him a tight smile. "Don't try to defend him."
"Oh, believe me. I'm not." He presses his hand to his ear, listening to something J.J. is saying. Then with a shake of his head, he continues, "But he was right."
Pressing her lips together, Emily turns her gaze back to the street. "Hotch, you know how hard I've worked to get here. You know what I've done to be able to stay here. This is all I've ever wanted to do." Unconsciously, she lays a hand over her abdomen. "But this…this baby is more important. And if I didn't have complete faith in our team, I would never consider going into a bar as bait."
He's looking at her now, his eyes swirling with emotion in the dimness. "While we are good, we aren't perfect. And from the moment you made the decision to bring a child into the world your life was no longer your own."
"I know," she bites her lip, feeling chastised. "I just…"
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I know, Emily. You trust the team; you want to do your job. I get it." Heaving a sigh, he shakes his head. "But you can do your job without taking unnecessary risks for a few months. It doesn't make you any less valuable to the team."
She can't help it, she smiles. "Yes, sir."
His face softens, even if he doesn't exactly smile. "And you are a valuable member of this team, despite the rocky start. I want you to remember that when things get rocky again."
There was a lump of dread where her heart should be when she asks, "What about Strauss?"
"Dave said he'd deal with Strauss. Take full responsibility."
Confusion has her wrinkling her brow. "Why would he do that? I'm the one who…pursued him."
Hotch's head snaps around and he gapes at her; at least as much as he has ever gaped. Before he can say anything, J.J.'s voice is in their ears, and this time she sounds alert, on edge. Once again he presses a hand to his ear and this time so does Emily.
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They wrap the case up sometime in the wee hours of the morning after a thirty hour day. Too tired to do more than find a bed to fall into, the entire team heads back to the hotel. Emily avoids him, climbing into the car with J.J. and Morgan for the short drive.
He waits for her, staying awake for almost two hours, until his eyelids are like sandpaper and he's sure she isn't going to show up. And he isn't sure if he's disappointed or relieved. But when he substitutes the extra pillow for her, he realizes he's scared…scared that he's gone too far and that she's done.
It's just past noon when he wakes up, the sunlight bleeding around the edges of the drapes casting bars of light across the brown and orange patterned carpet. With a sigh and a groan, he's not getting any younger, he rolls out of bed and heads for the shower.
The knock on the door doesn't surprise him. Neither does the fire in her eyes. Actually, he's been waiting for them. The sharp rap of her knuckles against the metal, the battle that has been brewing since yesterday afternoon, he's been waiting. So, no, he isn't surprised at all.
"Come in," Rossi motions her inside.
She slides past him, turning sideways to avoid contact. The sweet scent of her teases him as she passes. Letting the door close he turns and finds her leaning against the dresser, arms crossed, glaring at him.
"Why didn't you tell Hotch the truth?" Her calm, measured tone worries him more than if she was screaming and railing at him.
He's confused; her question throwing him off balance. "I did tell him the truth. You were the one dodging his question."
"No," she shakes her head, dark hair shifting over her shoulders. "Why did you tell him you would take full responsibility? I seduced you…in case you forgot."
"Oh, I didn't forget. Believe me." He's grinning now, the memory ripe and fresh in his mind. "You were…magnificent."
"Oh no, don't try that famous Rossi charm on me. It won't work." She wraps her arms tighter around herself, using them like a shield.
"What did you want me to tell him, Emily?"
"Look, Dave, we need to get something straight. I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions and I can handle the fallout from my mistakes."
The words rip through him. He's been called a mistake before, usually right before he sees the divorce papers. "Is that what this is? A mistake?"
"What?" She gives him a puzzled look, her head tilting forward in that way she has. "God, no. I just don't need for you to stick your neck out with Strauss. I can take the heat."
He watches her for a second. The way her chin juts out and her eyes flash. The spots of anger coloring her cheeks. Her body language fascinates him. She fascinates him.
"You don't get it, do you?" He steps closer to her, watching her watch him. "The first thing Hotch thought was that I was the one who 'led you astray'. That's what Strauss is going to think too. I don't see any reason to further sully your reputation."
She laughs at that, a hard biting sound. "Sully my reputation? How chivalrous. But I don't need you to protect me."
"I never said you did. I know you can take care of yourself." He's right in front of her, and he brushes a finger over her cheek. "But…but I want to. You make me want…"
Her hand is on his wrist, tugging his hand away. "Don't." She slips away, moving across the room, but not before he sees something like fear in her eyes. "Don't say something you don't mean. Not because of this." Her hand presses against her still flat stomach and he feels something inside him go hot.
His voice is low and a little dangerous. "Do you think that's why I'm worried about you? Do you?" This time she says nothing, watching him with wide eyes. "Yes, your being pregnant is why I couldn't let you…why it wasn't smart for you to go out there as bait. But there isn't a day that goes by that I don't worry about you. Every time we go through a door, every time you chase some perp down an alley I worry."
She's shaking her head now. "I don't need you to…"
"It's not about what you need. Not this." He runs both hands through his hair, ruffling the short strands. "Baby or no baby, you are under my skin."
She moves then, until she's standing right in front of him, until he can see the tears shimmering in her eyes. "I don't know how to do this." She waves a hand between them.
"Apparently I don't either." And she laughs; a little wobbly but a true laugh that makes his heart feel lighter and his lips turn up in a smile. Leaning forward, he kisses her, tasting the laugh as it leaves her mouth.
Summer. She tastes like the freedom of summer. He wants to laugh at himself for his sudden poetic turn.
"So, what do we do?" she is smiling up at him, her hands resting on his waist, tugging him nearer.
Sliding his arms around her, he pulls her close, his face resting against her hair. "I can't promise not to be bossy. It's my nature." He feels her chuckle. "But I want you, Em. I want our baby. I want this to work."
Pressing a kiss to his throat just above his collar, she runs her hands up his back. "I love you."
This time the heat flooding through him is relief. "Thank you," he whispers.
"Not quite what I was hoping for." She teases, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
He pulls back then, his hands cupping her cheeks. "I love you, Emily Prentiss. And I will do anything within my power to make sure you know just how much."
Then he's kissing her, one hand sliding through the cool silk of her hair and cupping the back of her head. She feels so good in his arms, like she was made just for that purpose. But when his hand finds the top button on her blouse, she pulls away.
"Not so fast, Romeo." Her hand is on his wrist. "I think we need to do something first."
"What's that?" He's nuzzling along her throat, the skin smooth against his lips. At this point he's willing to do just about anything as long as it can be done quickly so he can go back to kissing her.
She ducks out of his grasp, laughing softly. "The team is in the bar. I think we should tell them. Together."