Author's Note: I must admit, this little ditty has been on my mind for a very long time. It's a very tempting scene to fantasize about, especially with such gorgeous people as Hotch and Emily. So when my darling wife, Casandra, decided to be a dear and write Matters of the Bloodline (which you all should really read, if you haven't already) for my upcoming birthday, I knew I had to do something for hers. And while this could never measure up to her incredible writing, I hope it comes somewhere close - and I sincerely hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters.
"Alright, everyone," Hotch called out to his team, his voice echoing louder than he thought it would in the near-empty bullpen. "We've had a long week. Go home, get some rest, all of you. I don't want to see anyone in this office until next Monday."
Morgan was the only one brave enough to ask the question on everyone's mind. "'Next' Monday?" he mused aloud. "As in, two days from now, or..."
Shuffling through his briefcase, Hotch gave a tiny smirk. "As in, I'm giving everyone the upcoming week off. I spoke to Strauss, and she agreed that, because of our excellent work on this past, grueling case, we deserve a reprieve. B-Team is scheduled to take any and all cases for the next nine days." No one could suppress their cheers, and immediately, the space surrounding the band of seven was filled with whoops and hollers of joy and gratitude. "So go on," he said over the clamor, with a laidbackness that was unfortunately rare. "Go have fun."
The bullpen was rapidly clearing of its occupants when Hotch heard it; a somewhat sarcastic grumble coming from the direction of Emily's desk.
"Yeah, that's not going to be happening any time soon."
Hotch wasn't the only one who heard her, though. Morgan came over to sit on her desk, watching as she compulsively arranged the various trinkets her desk drawer had become home to over the years. "Why not, princess?"
"I have to take my car to the shop," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Something's wrong with it. It makes this weird clanking noise that I think might be coming from…the engine? I honestly have no idea. My father was big into fixing up old model cars, but I never really paid attention." Emily shrugged. "And it's not like it's going to take up our entire break. But it's not going to only take one or two days, you know what I mean?"
"In other words, your time-off is going to be one big party," Morgan said with a sympathetic smile.
Emily scoffed. "Yeah. A very big party."
Before Hotch knew what he was doing, he had stridden over to where the two partners were talking and joined them. "Why don't you let me take a look at it, Pr – Emily?"
Emily couldn't stop herself from doing a double take. "S-sorry?"
"These car dealerships will undoubtedly cost you a fortune, even if the problem with your car is something really simple," Hotch said coolly. "The next thing you know, you're paying several thousand just because they've convinced you into changing your filters, getting new floor mats, and numerous other unnecessary things."
Emily brought her inquisitive gaze up to his, and had to actively refrain from gasping at the intensity she saw reflected in his two dark pools. "I never knew you were a mechanic in another life," she said with a small, maybe even coy, smile.
"Yeah, well…I guess we all have our hobbies." He paid no heed to Morgan getting up off of Emily's desk and amusedly giving them their space; instead, he simply returned Emily's smile with one of his own, catching her off guard yet again.
"I really appreciate it, Hotch," Emily said eventually, slinging her bag over one shoulder as they strode toward the glass doors. "Do you think you could come over tomorrow?"
"Of course." He prayed to whatever god was listening that she couldn't hear the impatient eagerness in his voice. "Around what time would be good for you? Ten, maybe?"
She took her bottom lip between her teeth, failing to notice the way Hotch's gaze reverently followed the path of her tongue. "Ten sounds perfect," Emily said, watching his retreating figure disappear with a brief wave.
From behind her, Morgan tossed her an obvious wink and breathed out a laugh. "'Ten sounds perfect'," he echoed in a high-pitched voice.
Rolling her eyes once more and barely fighting off a mean blush, Emily smacked him on the arm hard, then made her escape – though absolutely nothing could get rid of the light and giddy feeling coursing through her body.
~.~.~
Running a hand through her thoroughly disheveled hair as she padded barefoot to her door, Emily groaned quietly. Who could be knocking on my door this early in the morning? she wondered incredulously. The nerve of some people, she scowled. Don't they know the meaning of peace and quiet? Don't they know that it's too early in the morning –
Without glancing through the peephole, Emily swung open the front door.
Oh.
Shit. Her eyes widened imperceptibly. "Hotch," she said, clearing her throat to not sound surprised. "Hey. Good morning. Uh…" Emily's cheeks flushed a burning pink as she realized what she was wearing – and just how inappropriate it was. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable. I just need to go, uh…change clothes really quickly," she said on one breath, before disappearing down her hallway.
Hotch bit back his amused smile. It took all his willpower to refrain from telling her that she didn't need to change, and that he didn't want her to; that seeing her in a red silk top and matching boy shorts was the best way he could think of to start his morning.
That seeing her bra-less and catching a glimpse of a nipple through the thin, sultry fabric was making him so damn hot.
He was jolted out of his reverie by the sound of footsteps against wood flooring as Emily moved over to her small kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe?"
"Please." Pushing up off the couch he had been comfortably inhabiting, Hotch moved to join her. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" he asked perceptibly.
"What? No, of course not," she lied smoothly. "I was just lazing around, doing nothing, and somehow managed to forget you were coming over to help me with my car," she said with a rueful smile. "Sorry."
"Don't be." He accepted her proffered cup of strong, black coffee – just how he liked it – with a husky thank you. "Where's your car?" he asked after a long, pleasant silence. "Out back?" She nodded. "Then let's go have a look."
Letting him walk in front of her, Emily did just that. Her skin thrummed with something like unabashed desire as she drank him in; a pale pink shirt that stretched appealingly over his muscled arms, low-slung jeans that were a faded grey but just oozed sex. He looked absolutely gorgeous.
Oblivious to Emily's ogling, Hotch simply continued leading the way out back, wheeling in a couple objects Emily hadn't realized he had left by her door in the process. "I brought some jacks, just in case you didn't have any, and just in case we'd need some," he said in explanation, knowing the question she was about to ask. "I like to be prepared, you know?"
"I can see that," Emily said, her voice low and quiet; low and sensual. Clearing her throat suddenly as they finally approached her car and opened up its hood, Emily stood back, in awe as Hotch sprung into action. It was a side of him she had never seen before; not that she knew everything there was to know about him, no. She was so used to seeing the tightly laced-up Unit Chief, or the passionate family man. But this?
This was damn hot.
"Can you go ahead and turn on your car for me, Emily?" Her given name slipped from his lips as if it was what he called her every day – and every night. "I want to hear this noise you were talking about."
"Of course." I'd do so much more for you, Hotch. You have no idea.
Sure enough, within seconds of running the engine, Hotch heard it; a knocking and clanking just like Emily had previously described. "Hmmm." Hotch peeked his head through her driver's side door, well aware that their faces were now but an inch apart. "Is your air conditioning on?" he mused aloud, craning his neck to see further.
Of their own volition, Emily's expressive eyes drooped shut. She could feel his warm breath on her skin…and the cool air from the car vent fanning against her burning cheeks. It was a madenning medley of sensations. "Yes, why?"
"Oh, nothing." Moving out of the way and proffering a hand to Emily to held her out of the car as well, he cocked his head to the side and gazed at the hissing machine with interest. "I've just…got a hunch."
Her lips twitched at the corners. "Care to share, Hotch?" she joked.
He smirked. "I guess," he tossed right back. "I don't think it's a problem with your engine, per se." Walking the length of the expensive vehicle, he idly ran a finger across it's smooth surface; and somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was telling him how fitting it was that her car would be painted in matte black. He had always known Emily had a thing against smudges and fingerprints, obsessive-compulsive woman that she was.
Other people might have thought it was a weird choice. But Hotch? He thought it was endearing.
"Not an engine problem?" Emily echoed, hands on her jean-clad hips - those jeans that did wonders for her already shapely ass, Hotch noticed - as she watched him. "How do you figure? And what else would it be?"
"You ask a lot of questions," he chuckled under his breath. "You said you started hearing this noise only recently?"
"Yeah, I…can't remember ever hearing this before summer started, to be honest."
Hotch nodded. "Makes sense. You would use your air conditioning more often and on a higher velocity during the summer when the temperatures are elevated significantly." He glanced over at her, and had to physically bite down on his bottom lip to prevent from groaning at the sight of her black tank, stretched unforgivingly over her svelte frame. It was like she became more and more irresistible each time he looked at her. "It has to be an air conditioning problem."
"That's funny, when I was talking to Derek, he said it might be a problem with the air conditioning, as well. With the compressor, maybe?" She shrugged. "I told you, I'm no good when it comes with cars."
But Hotch wasn't listening. "Derek?" he echoed.
"Yeah, uh, he comes over on occasion to help me out whenever I have car troubles. You know, fixing tires or giving me a ride whenever my car's in the shop for some reason or another. You're right about that much; those car dealerships will rob you blind." Emily was no fool; she easily caught the glint of male jealousy reflected in Hotch's eyes for but a second.
It made her smile. Mission accomplished.
"So, if it really is an air conditioning problem, that means it'll be easier to fix…right?"
"It should be," Hotch said, his voice coming out in a growl now. "In fact, if I'm right…" His voice trailed away, and before she knew it, her sleek, matte black Audi was propped up high enough off the ground, and Hotch was flat on his back, gazing at its underside. "If I'm right, there should be a noticeable freon leak. But first, I want to check to make sure it's nothing else."
"So thorough," Emily practically purred. "Thank you, Hotch, I really do appreciate it."
"Not a problem," he grunted. God, does she know what she's doing to me? Oh, of course she does. Emily Prentiss has always been and always will be a tease. And I'm a godforsaken liar if I say I don't love it.
"What are you looking for?" Emily asked, curious as ever. What I would give to pick that brain of yours, she sighed. So fascinating.
"Hopefully nothing. Here, come take a look." Emily felt her skin begin to thrum with desire as Hotch beckoned her underneath the car with him. Feigning nonchalance, she laid on her back beside him as if it were something she did day in and day out.
Unbeknownst to Emily, Hotch was unabashedly taking in eyeful after eyeful of the generous swells of her breasts as she breathed. Every deep inhale and exhale sent her chest heaving, her breasts seemingly being pushed up even further with every second that past. It was quite the sight. Hotch couldn't help but smile.
"What am I looking for?"
"Nothing," he repeated. "You don't see any leaking or wear and tear anywhere, do you?" Emily's shaking of her head was all the answer he needed. "That just confirms my theory that your car has a freon leak. Now, all we have to do to make sure is..."
"Check under the hood?" Emily lolled her head to the side, a smile playing at her lips.
"You're learning," he said fondly. "Yes, we check under the hood next. Usually the area around the leak will have oil around the point of fault, so it'll be easy to look over your system by following the various hoses out of the compressor, and checking everything else for telltale leakage. And when we find the leak, all we have to do is buy you some freon and sealant, and patch your Audi up. Of course, all of this could be done by a car dealership, if you want to be more careful."
"I trust you know what you're doing," Emily said confidently. "Besides…" Her voice dropped in volume, before she said, bravely, "I'm enjoying the company."
Hotch met her gaze from beneath the darkness her car's thick shadow provided. "As am I." Slowly but surely, he moved out from underneath the Audi, and helped Emily to her feet once more. What Emily saw once the sunlight hit them once more, however, caused an irrevocable groan to be torn from the back of her throat.
Hotch looked absolutely delicious. While this was old news for Emily, what with his gorgeous pale pink shirt that worked wonders for his toned abs and forearms, something new had staked its claim all over his figure; something thick, black, and sticky.
Emily winced, genuinely disheartened. "Your shirt…it's ruined." What a shame.
"Hmmmm. That it is," he murmured, picking at the grease he found on various areas of his chest and arms. "But that's okay," Hotch said a second later, laughing a little to himself. "I'm actually pretty sure I have another shirt this very same color."
"It's a good color on you." Emily was shocked the words had slipped from her lips without any thought at all, but didn't regret that they had. After all…she was simply speaking the truth.
Hotch's smirk that had managed to stay hidden thus far finally broke free. "Yeah?"
Oh God, the dimples. Her gaze raked over his form, resting on the spots that were now stained an unforgiving black. "Yeah. You know what, let me go and get you a damp towel so you can clean yourself up." But before she could move back into the apartment, Emily's gaze habitually dropped to her own clothes; where she found similar stains. Her top was black, so it didn't matter, and Emily felt no qualms at simply throwing the tank away. But the grease had landed on her skin, as well, and Emily was amazed she hadn't noticed it sooner.
"Huh. I guess you're not the only grease monkey around here." Emily immediately felt like slapping herself. A grease monkey? Did you really just call Hotch…your boss…a grease monkey? Way to go, Prentiss. Congratulations.
But Hotch didn't seem to mind, not at all. "Looks like we match," he said drolly, his heart doing crazy things at Emily's resulting smile. "I think I'll take you up on that towel offer," he said eventually.
"Good." Reservations be damned, Emily stopped trying to filter her thoughts. "I'm pretty sure I have a couple beers in the fridge, if you want one," she said. "If, you know, eleven o'clock in the afternoon isn't too early to be drinking."
Hotch, of course, was prepared and perfectly willing to indulge Emily's every whim. "That actually sounds perfect, to be honest. And…maybe we could order in for lunch? Maybe some pizza or Chinese food?"
"Oh, Hotch, you really know your way around a woman's heart." Their laughter rang out in the summer afternoon air. They were both aware that the flirting was unabashed now, but neither minded. Rather, they were enjoying; they were having a good time.
"So I've been told," he teased. They were making their way back to Emily's cool apartment when Hotch stopped her. "Before we go back inside, I just want to make sure, uh…was that the only problem you noticed? Is there anything else you need me to look at?"
There was something about his voice, Emily noticed. It was terribly husky and thick with what she was almost certain was desire – or was she just reading it that way, full of hope? It made him sound as if he was almost hopeful to have more reasons to hang around; as if staying for lunch wasn't enough. And knowing him, it probably wasn't.
Emily's smile simply grew, blossoming into the most beautiful thing Hotch had ever seen. Immediately, he felt his breathing grow short. "Actually," she said coyly, "there is something else. Something else I might...need."
Hotch fearlessly took a single step forward, easily closing the distance between them. "Name it, Emily." His eyes seemingly burned through to her soul, reading her from the inside out. Emily felt goosebumps erupt on her skin as the tension that had been between them for the entire day – for the entirety of their acquaintance, really – ratcheted higher and higher.
Emily wiped her hands together idly, took a deep breath…released it. Smiled yet again. "Recently, I've found that I've needed some work done underneath my…hood." Their gazes met, and both smirked. "Would you be able to do anything about that?"
"It depends," Hotch rumbled. He was itching to push all cares away and take her, right then and there. It wasn't the most gentlemanly thing he could do…but they would have time for that later. He would make sure of it.
"On?"
"On what you need done," Hotch said, as straight-faced as ever. "Do you need a…rod replacement? Or a valve lubrication?"
Emily bit her lip hard to refrain from laughing. But when she spoke, her breathy, beautiful voice came out in a near-purr. "Both sound good to me, to be honest."
"Okay," Hotch tucked a strand of hair behind Emily's ear, "I'm going to drop the corny extended car metaphor now," he informed, his voice smooth like aged whiskey, "and I'm going to kiss you." Their foreheads were resting against one another now. "Can I?"
Emily's laughter finally spilled forth. Any and all thoughts about her Audi and freon leaks were long gone. "Aaron Hotchner, always a gentleman," she praised.
"That's not an answer," he growled playfully, nipping at her jaw and eliciting a sharp gasp from the woman he had wanted for much too long.
"How's this for an answer?" Emily asked instead. And before Hotch could process what was happening, Emily's lips were pressed firmly against his, hot and wet and delicious - just as he'd always imagined. He wasted no time in plundering her sweet mouth with his tongue, and was very pleased when he felt Emily's tongue immediately coming to dance with his in a battle for dominance that he was determined to win. He would let Emily have her fun later on...but now? Now, she was his to ravish, to enjoy, to savor. And savor he would.
Smirking against his lips as she felt a telltale swell pressing against her hip, Emily toyed with Hotch's bottom lip before reaching down between their now grinding bodies to give him a teasing squeeze. He breathed out a curse, his breath fanning against her cheeks now. She was like fire in his hands...she was sure to be his downfall.
Finally pulling back for air, Emily gave a dizzy little laugh as she looked down at their shirts once more. Their grinding had only served to spread the grease in numerous other places it hadn't been before. "Well, my shirt is officially ruined," she said, her lust-fazed eyes seeking his.
"That's okay," Hotch rasped into her ear. "I was planning on ripping it off of you anyway."
Her eyes twinkled as she cocked her head in the direction of her front door. "Well? Then what are you waiting for...grease monkey?"
"Nothing." Hotch's growl was victorious as he lifted Emily into his arms and crossed the threshold into her apartment. "Nothing at all."
THE END.
Author's Note: Well? What do you think? I'd love to know! Please drop me a line; your feedback and reviews never fail to make me smile. I sure hope you all enjoyed it - especially you, Casandra. Happy really early birthday, love. :)
