Here's hoping everyone had a safe and happy new year.

Once again, I am cutting it down to the wire. It took me a long time to figure out which direction to take these two, but when it was revealed that Dave has been confiding in Em and she is his sounding board, the wheels started turning. But how when my two main are Em/Hotch? Well, where there's a will, there's a way to put a twist in a story.

Song prompt: "What You Won't Do, Do For Love" by Bobby Caldwell.

What You Won't Do, Do For Love

Clubs were not Emily Prentiss's scene. She liked the quiet and peace that her two bedroom apartment townhouse gave her. The music, the dancing, the scummy come ons by creepy guys using age old pick up lines - it was enough to make her glad that she had resigned herself to the single life. Almost.

She had wanted to hide away and pretend that the last case hadn't bothered her, but it had. And though she had talked to Hotch about how it had affected her, she hadn't told him everything. She had failed herself by breaking a promise. Now she sat at the bar twirling a straw in her drink and wondered why she even bothered anymore.

"Want to talk about it?" Hotch's voice broke thru her reverie. Surprised by his presence, she spun around on the barstool.

"Hotch? What are you doing here?" She tried to conceal the surprise and anger at him invading her space.

"The team wanted to go out for a drink and they picked this place," he replied

"You followed me?" Em's eyes widened.

"May I sit down?" he asked trying to diffuse the moment. It didn't take a profiler to read that Em was on the defense. He waited for her nod and took the stool beside her. "What are you having?" He glanced at her drink.

"Pineapple and Amaretto," Em said and sipped.

"I think I'll pass. I'll have a scotch, neat," he told the bartender. Taking the glass, he took a swallow. "I didn't follow you. I didn't even know you were going to be here."

Em shrugged. "Sure."

"You told me you were going home." Hotch reminded her. "But now that you're here and we're here, why don't you come over and sit with us?"

Em smiled softly. "I don't think that would be a good idea. I just want to think."

"About the case?" Hotch leaned in closer.

"No." She shook her head. "A regret."

A smile tugged at Hotch's lips. "Emily Prentiss has a 'regret'? I'm all ears."

"Funny Hotch." Em tried to concentrate on the music in the background. "You can't profile me."

Hotch turned serious. "Honestly, Em, talk to me. If something is wrong, I want to help."

Em took a deep breath then let it out. "Have you ever made a New Year's Resolution? And didn't keep it?"

"Sure." He nodded. "More than a few."

"How about the same one over and over for a few years?" God, she needed another drink.

"That's normal. What was the resolution? Please tell me it's not to lose weight or cut your bangs again," he teased.

Em chuckled. "No. I want to tell someone I love them."

"Ah." Hotch concentrated on the aged liquor.

"That's comforting, Hotch. Drag my deep, dark secret out of me and then say 'ah'. Makes me feel good about not keeping it now," she groused.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just curious about who it could be. Do I know him?"

Em shifted on the stool and wished for the floor to open up. "You could say that."

"Is it someone in the Hoover Building?" Hotch wondered.

"You're warm."

"Someone on the fifth floor?"

"Very warm." She stirred her drink faster.

"Are they in the BAU?" He waited. Em remained quiet. "Man or woman?"

Em's head snapped up. "Hotch!"

He grinned. "Help me narrow it down before the team comes looking for me and they end up dragging us both to the corner table." He ran his eyes over her face for a hint. "Is it me?"

Em let out a breath on an embarrassed smile. "No. I mean, I wish it was you, but…no." She bit her lip. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"No offense taken, Emily." Hotch sipped. "Morgan?"

"Definitely a no. We're getting back to that place where we can hang again, but I don't want to push it. Besides, PG is getting ready to debug my laptop and I want it back in one piece."

"Understandable. Have you told him what 'Sin To Win' means?" Hotch asked.

Em shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "No. I want us to remain friends this time."

"Well, the field is slowly narrowing down, so my next guess is going to be Reid."

"Two words: Star Trek."

Hotch looked bewildered. "Huh? You lost me."

"He's Star Wars, and I'm Star Trek. It would never work. Besides, he's like the younger brother I never had. And sometimes, when he's spouting off trivia about all six Star Wars movies, I see why he wasn't my brother," she joked. "And that leaves one."

"How long?"

Em ran a hand over her hair. "I don't know. Day one, or maybe later. I'm not sure."

"When did you know for sure?" Hotch probed deeper. Emily Prentiss was head over heels for his best friend and he couldn't be happier. But first he had to know the what, when, and whys….plus how the hell he missed the signs.

"That night when he and Ashley were on the roof and Doyle gave the order to have Dave shot first. I…" Em blinked back tears as the memory washed over her. She could still taste the fear and anger as Doyle tried to take his revenge out on her friends. Her mind still played tricks on her and sometimes in the dark of night, the nightmare took over and it was Dave who was shot. Almost a year after the fact and it still took everything she had to remember to breathe when she woke up in a cold sweat.

"You told Doyle not to. I know, Emily," Hotch gently reminded her. "Now you're back. Have you told him?"

Em raised the glass to her lips. "God, no. I lost my identity, not my mind."

"So, you're in love with Dave Rossi. That part's not unusual." Hotch raised his eye brow. "The fact that it's you and I didn't suspect is what gets me."

"What can I say?" she muttered. "I'm great at compartmentalizing." Out of the corner of her eye, Em watched the team laughing and drinking. A part of her wanted to be with the group and have it like it was before she destroyed everything.

Her breath caught as Dave met her gaze. He noticed her. Then he smiled. Before she could react, he turned away to reply to Pen.

"You're good," Hotch observed. "But even you can't keep it up forever."

"What do you mean?" she asked breezily.

"You're his sounding board, Emily; how long do you think you'll be able to don the mask of innocent bystander while he pours his heart out to you? This is Dave Rossi, and if he's spilling, he going to want something in return. When he asks the questions, what are you going to say?"

"Nothing." Checking her watch, Em started to move off the stool. She threw a couple of bills on the bar. "Thanks for the talk. See you Monday." She started to turn away when a hand reached out and stopped her.

"Em, don't leave. Not like this. Tell him."

She shook her head. "I can't, Hotch. It goes against everything you want the team to be."

"The main thing I want is for my team to be happy. What you do after hours doesn't concern me…unless you're an UNSUB in the making." He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile. It had been so long that maybe it wouldn't work.

"I…I can't."

"Is that your New Year's Resolution?"

She wanted to say no, deny it. But it was on her face. The truth shone in her eyes. "Yes."

"May I say something on his behalf?" Hotch asked. Em shrugged indifferently. "He loves you too." He watched her startled expression. "Do you think he only confides in you?"

"That changes everything," she sputtered.

"It does and you should tell him." Hotch finished his drink. "And I think I know how." Grabbing Em's hand, he pulled her across the floor, past the team, to the stage on the other side of the room.