Aaron slammed the receiver down, hanging up the phone harder than he'd intended. It never failed, Haley wanted nothing more than for him to climb up the ranks, wanted the notoriety that came with being the wife of a successful lawyer or FBI agent. Anytime that meant that Aaron had to put in extra time at work, paying his dues doing background checks for the Ambassador's security detail and staff, however, it lead to an explosive fight and Aaron sleeping on the couch.
She just didn't understand that this was who he is - or that he was in hot water right now and had to smooth things over, no matter how long it took.
Aaron had screwed up. He'd witnessed the Ambassador in a "compromising position" with a member of the security team and the awkward confrontation that followed was something he could have happily done without. He was grateful that Ambassador Prentiss had simply asked that he look the other way and dismissed him quietly, rather than blowing up and letting him go.
Haley was angry enough that he'd called to say he was working late; she would have been furious if he'd been let go over what could be a career-ending scandal for both the Ambassador and himself. He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face, and turned to another file. They had added fifteen new members to the security detail to cover an up-coming event, and he was determined to get them all cross-checked before going home. He was about half way through when he heard a quiet knock on his doorframe.
"You planning on spending the night?" Emily Prentiss smirked when he jumped slightly.
"Ah - no." He sighed. "Just trying to get through these background checks. There was a, uh, situation earlier and I lost some time." He felt the color rise in his cheeks and felt like he was twelve years old again.
Emily wandered into his office, flopping down into the chair across from him with a huff. "Mother on the warpath again?" She rolled her eyes. Aaron bit back a smirk; Emily had been 18 and off to Yale when he'd been assigned to Ambassador Prentiss' team, and they'd fallen into a natural and comfortable friendship. So comfortable, in fact, that he'd neglected to tell Haley about it.
Looking at her sprawled out in his chair, it was no wonder why. Tall and willowy, ivory skin offset by raven hair (that currently sported a handful of bright blue highlights), big brown eyes that always seemed to sparkle like she had a secret she was dying to tell, Emily Prentiss was a force to be reckoned with. No amount of reassurances would convince Haley that they were indeed just friends. He shook his head, grimacing slightly. "Not exactly. But these files won't check themselves - " he stopped before he could add "and my wife is already pissed at me, so there's no point hurrying home."
Emily knew he was holding back; she always knew. Her brown eyes met his and she pursed her lips. "You know what they say about all work and no play - let's get out of here. I'll buy you a beer." She jumped up out of her chair and grabbed his hand, tugging him up as he half-heartedly protested. After the day he'd had, and the fight with Haley, a beer sounded perfect. Better than a night on the couch, anyway.
Emily signaled for another round, ignoring Hotch's protests. She knew that her mother had done something - she'd seen that look in the mirror a million times - despite his insistence otherwise.
"C'mon, Aaron, spill. What kept you at the office cross-checking files after ten o'clock on a Friday instead of going home to your beautiful wife?" she tried to keep her voice light and joking, but could hear the bitterness creeping in.
Hotch sighed and grimaced. "I'd really rather not talk about it. It was awkward and embarrassing enough. As for the 'beautiful wife', " Emily could hear his own bitterness seeping into his tone, "she's less than pleased that I chose to work late. She probably locked the door as soon as she hung up on me; I'm sure my pillow and blanket are waiting on the couch." He hadn't meant to share so much, it wasn't like him to vent his frustrations about his wife to anyone, but the words just tumbled out before he'd even thought them. Something about Emily had always made him more open; maybe it was her eyes, always challenging him to push out of his comfort zone.
She raised an eyebrow at him, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. She'd always found Aaron Hotchner attractive, but he was a married man. Being unhappy didn't change that. And while Emily had a wild streak and had rebelled in her struggle to fit in, there were lines even she wouldn't cross.
"I'm so sorry, Hotch. My mother has a way of causing chaos and destruction everywhere she goes. I hope things blow over with you and Haley." She prayed Hotch couldn't see through the lie, that he'd take what she'd said at face value. "What did Mother do this time?"
Hotch chuckled at Emily's determination to pry into her mother's affairs. He wouldn't tell, it wasn't his story and he wasn't one to gossip, but he had to give her credit for trying.
Emily was glad to see Hotch relaxing and loosening up. He'd been very obviously stressed and upset when she found him in his office and she had a feeling she knew what had happened. The drinks , however, were having their desired effect and she was happy that she'd had the chance to unwind a little with him before heading back to Yale in a couple of weeks.
She took a minute to really look at the man sitting next to her. He looked tired, worn down by the stress of the confrontation with her mother and his fight with Haley. His frustration and exhaustion were etched in the faint lines in his face, his brown eyes not as bright as they usually were when she spent time with him. Emily wanted nothing more than to put a smile on his face, a spark in his eye, even if it wasn't her place. Her friend, she told herself, was hurting and she could make it better.
She just wouldn't look too closely at her motivation and would do everything to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach and the heat that rose to her face any time he was in the room with her.
She grinned when he ordered a third round. "No sense in hurrying home, " he winked at Emily, bringing a flush to her cheeks. Yes, drinks had been a terrific idea.
"In for a penny and all that jazz?" She countered with a cheeky grin. He nodded as he sipped his drink, taking a minute to really look at the woman sitting with him. Just shy of 22 and so full of life and promise, and he envied her. He was only five years her senior but he already felt like he'd lived a lifetime longer.
He couldn't stop himself from comparing her to Haley - with her dark hair falling in soft waves just past her shoulders and big, expressive brown eyes, she couldn't have looked any different than Haley. She had an edge to her, as did Haley, but it was different. Emily was exciting, titillating, and she made Hotch wish that he wasn't (typically) happily married and talking about babies, just for one night.
He shook the thought from his head, his cheeks flushing slightly when he saw Emily's questioning look. "Where'd ya go, Hotchner?" She giggled, the alcohol loosening her up and making her feel warm and flirty.
He shrugged, offered her a sheepish grin. "To another time, another place, where life isn't so complicated and I don't have to be a grown up." He laughed at how ridiculous he knew he must sound, but found it hard to care.
She laughed at him, beckoning him closer to her with her finger "I have a secret" whispered in his ear. Her lips brushed his ear and he shuddered, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. Maybe that third round hadn't been such a good idea after all.
Emily leaned in closer, her balance off, and put her hand on Hotch's thigh to keep from falling further into him. "I know all about Mother's "improper" relationship with that cute guy on the security team. I caught them making out the day I got home for summer break. Apparently it's been going on for quite some time."
Hotch could feel the heat of Emily's hand seeping through his pant leg and forced himself to focus on what she'd said. How could she have possibly known THAT was what had caused him to stay and work late?!
He was about to ask when she leaned back and looked him dead in the eye, her face only six inches from his. "You are the most serious person I've ever met. NOTHING rattles you - except the human condition of lust and attraction. You keep yourself so closed off that the only thing that could have you so flustered that you'd stay late and risk sleeping on the couch HAD to be catching Mother in a compromising situation. Anything else would have gotten you fired." She gave him a smug grin. "You need to lighten up, Hotchner."
The smug grin, the hand on his knee, the big brown eyes twinkling with mischief as they bored into his all worked together to make Hotch's heart race. He listed all the reasons this was bad (he was married, she was the boss's daughter, it could ruin his career and her future); he knew he should move away so that she wasn't in his space anymore.
Even as those thoughts coursed through his mind, he felt himself close the space, his lips crashing clumsily into hers. Before either of them could think, before they could register what was happening, she was kissing him back.
She closed what little space was left between them, her hands going behind his head to tangle in his hair and pull him closer. His hands moved up to cup her face, his thumbs absently carressing her jawline.
The kiss was fiery, explosive, all tongues and teeth, hands tangling in hair. Emily came to her senses first and pulled away from Hotch, putting as much space as she could between them. He moaned at the loss before he could stop himself.
"What the hell was that!?" She was breathless, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed.
"Emily. I - I -" He huffed out a breath, shifted awkwardly in his chair. "I'm sorry. I crossed a line." He moved to stand, to make his escape before he made things worse. To head back to his wife (and his pillow on the couch). He stopped when he caught the look in Emily's eye, his breath catching at what he saw burning in the dark depths.
Before she could think it through, before her sense of right and wrong kicked in, Emily was pulling him closer, closing the gap between them and kissing him again. His hands went to her lower back, pulling her from her chair and into his lap. The bar, the other people, the music, all disappeared. All he could hear was the roar of blood in his ears, his pulse pounding.
His skin was on fire, his lips swollen and raw where she'd nipped at them with her teeth. For the first time in a long time, quite possibly ever, he was losing control. His hands slid up under the hem of Emily's tank top, carressing the smooth skin of her back.
The skin on skin contact snapped Emily back to her senses; she gasped and pulled her face away from Aaron's, gasping for air.
"Shit! Shit! Aaron - you - I - you're married! I - damn it - I'm sorry!" She leapt awkwardly from his lap, straightening her top and trying to tame her tousled hair. Aaron stood, taking her hands into his to calm her.
"Emily." He tried to look her in the eye, sighing as she avoided him. He tucked a finger under her chin, turning her face toward his. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red and swollen. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, her guilt written all over her face.
"Emily, I was here too - this isn't all on you. I crossed a line and I'm so, so sorry. I - I should go." He cupped her cheek, running his fingers over a strand of blue hair, and smiled wistfully. "In another time, another place." He all but whispered, his voice breaking slightly.
Emily furrowed her brow in confusion, her breath catching when she realized what he was saying. Aaron leaned in, gently kissing the wrinkle in her brow before grabbing his jacket and leaving.
Emily opened her mouth to call him back, snapping it shut and sitting down with a sigh when she realized it wouldn't do any good. He wasn't going to risk everything he had, or her future, on a fling with her. And she wouldn't want him to.
She was frustrated, embarrassed and truth be told, a little heartbroken. She tossed some bills on the table to cover their tip and left the bar.
She was on her way back to Yale before Aaron came in the next morning.
November 2006
Emily groaned when she saw the name of her contact at the BAU. She knew he was assigned there, was section chief of their premier team, and would most likely be her boss.
She hadn't forgotten that night in the bar, the night they'd both crossed lines they shoulnd't have crossed. But this had been her goal from graduation - she'd paid her dues with the CIA doing undercover work, had done her field office duty, and she was ready to take what she'd worked so hard for. And one awkward night with Aaron Hotchner wasn't going to stand in her way.
Besides, there was a chance he'd never given it a second thought (at least she hoped he hadn't), and that he wouldn't remember her.
She picked up her box, readjusted her grip on her paperwork, and taking a deep breath to steady herself, pushed through his office door.