Note From the Author—I've never really looked at this potential relationship with Emily being the one who's really worried about things, so I decided to put this little piece down. I'm all with the Christmas spirit this year.

When Derek walked into Emily's he expected the scent of delicious food and the soft Christmas music floating through the air, he was there for a Christmas party after all. What he didn't expect was that Emily wouldn't be in the kitchen, or anywhere in sight for that matter.

He caught sight of a pair of slim legs clad in jeans and soft boots on the floor and his heart leaped into his throat. Then the feet kicked and the ankles crossed; it was only then that his heartbeat ramped down and his hand stopped a bare centimeter from the holster he rarely took off.

With his heart still pounding he worked his way over to Emily's Christmas tree and practically bent himself at a ninety degree angle. "Girl, what the hell are you doing?"

She could make out dark concerned eyes through the branches. "I'm thinking."

"You usually think under your Christmas tree?" he asked skeptically, kneeling down next to her.

And under the tree she was. Her head was nestled in between two of the legs on her tree stand and she was staring up through the branches looking deeply pensive. "Not unless it's December," Emily told him.

It appeared that she wasn't coming out anytime soon, so with a sigh he eased himself down to lay next to her. "Why are we down here Em?"

"I always used to do this when I was younger," she said quietly. "I always got stressed around the holidays and it helped me think when I would lay under the tree, look at the lights and watch the way the ornaments would sway if I moved. I've kept it up my whole life."

Derek quietly watched her for a moment, noting the emotions that played clearly across her face. "Want to tell me why we're under here right now, especially since you've got the whole team coming over here in a few minutes."

Now it was Emily's turn to sigh. She turned her head to look at him and her eyes were serious. "That would be a part of it."

"What happened?" he questioned.

"Hotch and I may have… well, kissed."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed the two of you getting closer lately. You've been sitting together at briefings and on the plane, going out for questionings together; all of us saw this coming. So why did kissing Hotch land you under here?"

"Well, we may have kissed, and I may have run away," she said quietly.

"Em," he said reproachfully.

"I know!" One hand rubbed at her eyes as she shook her head. "It's so ridiculous but it was under mistletoe and I was flustered…"

Morgan shook his head right back. "You and I both know that's not a good reason."

Before she could answer the click of heels echoed through the room, and before long Garcia was peering down at them through the branches. "What happened?" she asked.

"You know about this habit Mama?" Derek questioned.

With a sigh, Garcia arranged herself on the floor next to Derek. "Yup, she does it when she's stressed; never good."

"Yeah, well she kissed Hotch."

"Hey, laying right here; and you make it sound like I jumped him for God's sake," Emily grumbled.

Penelope reached over Derek to pat her friend's hand. "Sorry sweetheart. So you and the boss man kissed huh?"

She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "Why do I tell either of you anything?"

"Because you love us," Garcia told her with a cheery smile. "So what went down, give me all the details."

"She ran."

"You ran?!"

Emily almost growled at them. "Did we not just have this conversation?" Look I didn't know what to do. Again I reiterate mistletoe. I didn't know how he would react or… it just wasn't the ideal situation."

"Girl, it's never the ideal situation. But all three of us under here know what you wanted out of that kiss."

Garcia nodded. "Which is why I suggest that as soon as our tall, dark, and brooding commander gets here that you go somewhere far away from the rest of the team and have a nice chat."

"What on earth are you guys doing?"

JJ's voice startled them all half to death and they all forgot where they were. Which was why when they all bolted upright a shower of pine needles hit the floor at her and Reid's feet, said shower accompanied by the shattering of glass as ornaments went flying. "Are you guys okay?" Reid asked worriedly.

Cursing, they all slid out from under the tree, carefully avoiding the glass now littering the ground. "I'd say that's debatable at this point," Emily said with a frown.

They were all down on their hands and knees when Dave and Aaron walked in; and when Hotch asked what exactly had happened Emily was so startled that she slipped and fumbled the piece of glass in her hand. She hissed out a breath as it slashed against her arm and cursed when blood dropped onto her very white shoes.

"Come on," Hotch said, gently taking hold of her bleeding arm and holding his hand under the cut so no more fell.

"Hotch you don't have to…"

Dark eyes clashed together and he frowned. "Don't be stubborn."

She was too amazed at his insistence to even consider being obstinate about it, and the rest of the team parted like the red sea as he led her to her bathroom. He shut the door behind them with a soft click and guided her over to the sink. "You bolted," he said, not looking at her as he ran water over the cut.

Emily wasn't sure what stung more, the water against the cut or his choice of words. "I would say bolted is a bit of an overstatement."

His eyes found hers for the first time since they had entered the room, and what she saw there was anything but simple. "Emily, you ran; I mean actually ran."

"I know," she said, and there was shame in her voice. "I didn't know what else to do."

"Well, I think that talking was a good option."

She nodded. "Yes, it probably was." They both went silent as he carefully dabbed the cut with antiseptic and wrapped it for her. When he finished he leaned back against the counter, and as she took him in she knew she couldn't keep standing there without explaining things to him. "What happened, I didn't know if you kissed me because we were under the mistletoe or because you wanted to. I knew why I kissed you, but other than that…"

"Emily, I'm a grown man, and more than capable of making my own decisions. If I hadn't wanted to kiss you, I would have walked away."

"You're more of a gentleman than that," she said, folding her arms against her chest. "And we both know it."

"True. I would have kissed you on the cheek." He pushed away from the counter and crossed the short distance to stand in front of her. "If I remember correctly that kiss was far from gentlemanly, and it most definitely wasn't on the cheek."

He was right, and she knew it. "Not as I recall, no."

Hotch shot her a rare grin, and as always she was reminded just how potent the man's smile was. "And I don't see any mistletoe now."

"You know, neither do I," she told him, her own grin shining back.

Coming together the second time was smoother, and a great deal less awkward without an FBI audience. This was stronger, and a great deal less gentle. They allowed themselves to be momentarily carried away by emotion, and Emily couldn't for the life of her figure out why she had run from him.

Hotch kept his hands tangled in his hair as they parted, and with a smile he ran them from the back of her head to the very tips, sending pine needles and tinsel cascading over her shoulders. "Do I even want to know?"

Emily couldn't help but laugh out loud, and she shook her head. "Probably not; I had mistletoe on the mind. I just wasn't looking at things from the right angle. I think I've got a better perspective now."

"No regrets?"

She shook her head as she stepped into the circle of his arms. "Not this Christmas."