A/N (to a point):
Master of Ceremonies: Wait, didn't you promise me something from another fandom? What's this?
Me: It was a fluff bunny. It ate my brain, okay? I had no say in the matter.
Master of Ceremonies: Your readers won't be pleased...
Me: No, but maybe I'll pick up some more! You can never be in too many fandoms!
Master of Ceremonies: *shakes head* Let's just get on with it...
Me: *sticks tongue out at him, turns to readers* Yes, I know some of you were hoping for Teenagers, but hey, this is what I got inspiration for! Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Right?
*crickets*
(And yes, there is a master of ceremonies in my head. He does the publishing. PM me some time and maybe I'll give you the full cast.)
Disclaimer: *calls to the Secretary* We haven't gotten a response from CBS about getting ownership on this yet, have we?
As SSA Emily Prentiss drifted into awareness, the first thing she noticed was a sense of peace and safety.
That couldn't be right, though, part of her argued. She had fallen asleep terrified because of what had happened the day before. She had made sure the team hadn't noticed anything, put on a brave face and all that, but the ten minutes she had spent alone with the unsub had been the scariest of her life.
Bait. She had a few descriptions for the word, none of which would be acceptable in polite circles. She hated matching the unsub's type, because it often meant being bait. Knowing what he would do before had not stopped the terror as he had tied her up, detailing exactly what he was going to do to her. Derek had kicked the door in before the man had gotten much farther, and Hotch had found her seconds later.
She hadn't noticed it at the time, as her brain had been far too occupied by being scared and feeling that she'd never be safe again, but it occurred to her now that Hotch hadn't done anything about the unsub, had simply run to her and gotten her out of that blasted chair as quickly as possible. She realized that she didn't even know who had taken the unsub down in the end.
But her mind was wandering. She brought it back to the present and her current question. Why, after all that had happened, did she feel safe, at peace, comfortable, even?
She opened her eyes slightly, then closed them immediately. Oh. That was why.
She was still in her own hotel room; of that, Emily was certain. However, there seemed to be a new addition to it. Hotch was lying in her bed, his hair ruffled by sleep, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. His eyes had been open when she looked.
"I know you're awake," he said softly.
Emily opened her eyes again and looked up at him. It was hard not to think of him as her boss, even though he hadn't been for a while; he had been for much longer before that.
"What are you doing?" she asked, unable to think of anything else to say.
"You were having a nightmare," he replied. "The door between are rooms was unlocked, and I couldn't get you to wake up."
"So you climbed in bed with me." It wasn't a question so much as a clarification.
"Well, it worked." Hotch sounded defensive. Emily almost smiled.
The following silence could almost be considered awkward, but it wasn't quite. Emily felt herself get lost in his eyes, something she had wanted to do for a long time, and not allowed herself for just as long. She didn't notice, though, that the eyes were getting closer until they fluttered shut and Hotch pressed his lips to hers.
Emily felt herself melt into the embrace. Her heart thundered in time with words like "right" and "good" and "safe" for a few moments, before her mind caught up and protested.
Regretfully, hoping she was doing the right thing, she pulled away.
"Hotch," she murmured, "don't. You're grieving for Haley, and I don't want to be the cause of something you'll regret."
She went to pull out of his arms, but Hotch tightened them around her. "Is that your only protest?" he asked quietly. "That you think I'm doing this out of grief?"
Hesitantly, Emily nodded.
His lips pressed gently against her forehead, and she could feel the smile on them. "All right then," he said, then pushed her back slightly, not letting her go, but moving her far enough away from him that they could lock eyes. "Yes, Emily, I am grieving." She could not suppress the tremor that ran through her body as he used her given name; he never had before. "I loved Haley dearly, but, for a long time now, I have loved someone else more. The only reason I haven't done anything yet has to do with lack of opportunity and courage. I have both of them now, so here I am, doing something." He pulled her back into him again and kissed her, tenderly and softly.
Moments later, he broke the kiss and pushed her back slightly once more. "If you want this to stop," he said softly, "all you have to do is say so, and we'll never talk about this again, unless you bring it up."
Unable to think of anything to say, Emily pressed herself back against him and kissed him fiercely. She had waited and wanted for far too long, and now that he was offering, she'd be a fool not to accept. So she kissed him and was kissed by him, held him and was held by him, and though his feather-light touches promised more to come later on, she was content to stay like this, wrapped in his arms, for now.
A/N2: No, they didn't have sex at that point. Why? Because Hotch is grieving and Emily isn't that easy. Also, just because two adults are kissing in bed after more or less establishing their mutual attraction to each other doesn't mean... Nevermind. I'll shut up now.