Starting with a nervous smile here….So, I haven't written too much for CM, and am not even sure I got these characters right. But I have been so inspired by all the good stuffs I read, that I jumped into a challenge. What was I thinking? This is my roundabout way of shamelessly begging for kindness. It was supposed to be a small thing and just took off on me.
This was written for The Masquerade Challenge at the Chit Chat On Author's Corner forum. My pairing was Emily Prentiss/Aaron Hotchner and my costume was "gunslinger" (still fanning myself over the image that popped into my head when I read that one!)
DISCLAIMER: Own nothing, but live on hope!
Upside Down/Inside Out
"Punctuality is the politeness of kings"
Emily Prentiss smirked to herself as her mother's words came back to haunt her. The ticket for the Women's Crisis Center Benefit said 8pm. At 8:05, Emily was the first at their table to arrive. She looked down and grimaced at the amount of cleavage the costume displayed. She still couldn't believe Garcia had forced them all into this. None of them minded spending the money for the ticket. But none of them had actually planned to go, except Morgan. Emily had gone to enough 'events' to last a lifetime with her parents. She had planned to buy a ticket and sit home that night toasting the Center's good work with a quiet glass of wine in front of an old movie. Her resolve on this was only strengthened when she learned the Benefit would be a Halloween Costume Ball. Her lips twitched a little as she remembered how the rest of the team took the news.
"Costumes, Garcia? I do not wear costumes. Tell you what. I will buy a whole table and call it even."
"Not so much Rossi. You can buy extra tickets if you feel so inclined. There are a few of the women we help who would love to go but can't afford the ticket price. But, no my Italian author friend, you do not get out of it. Everyone goes. In Costume or you will discover exactly how the Goddess of Knowing reacts when angered. You do know how much banks etc rely on computers?"
Rossi groaned and nodded. They all capitulated. It was Reid who read the ticket first.
"Garcia? Uh, what do they mean by INSIDE OUT AND UPSIDE DOWN on the ticket?"
"Oh that's the fun! You have to come as your opposite. Instead of a boring costume theme, we wanted people to really think. So you have to dress as someone who is your complete opposite."
"I don't think I understand, Garcia? If I am man do I come as a woman?"
"Hell no Baby Girl! I am not wearing drag!"
"Well, you could do that. But the real idea is think how people see you and dress in a costume that reflects the opposite. Got it? You are all profilers. How hard can this be"
"Pen, I don't know. I will have to arrange a sitter for Henry…"
"I will have to find someone for Jack…"
"Oh my fearless friends, fear not! Boss-man, I have brought your sister-in-law's computer system out of the dark ages and she is delighted to take Jack that night. JJ, your neighbor, Mrs. Donovan has the youngest of her seven children home from college. Erin will stay with Henry. Actually, Erin is delighted to have a quiet place to work on her Child Physch Paper. Did I tell you Erin has decided to make her specialty in nursing pediatrics? So, I think we have covered that?"
The team of intelligent well trained, tough of Federal Agents nodded mutely as one. They had all learned when Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia really wanted something; it was just easier to capitulate.
That night, each member of the team prayed for a serial killer in Idaho to need capturing. Instead, each sighed and wore a costume, pulled out their ticket and consoled themselves knowing they wouldn't be alone in this misery.
At the table, Emily began to feel very uncomfortable. It wasn't that she hated events like this. It was the eyes of men as they passed. Perhaps she should wait in the ladies room until it was safe. She was headed there was a hissing noise from an empty room caught her attention.
"Psst Psst! Emily!"
A blonde biker chick with a Harley Davidson scarf was beckoning. It took a moment to recognize JJ. As she approached, JJ's hand came out and pulled Emily into the darkened hotel conference room.
"JJ? What the hell are you wearing? I can see what you are not wearing anyway."
"Oh God Emily. I put this outfit on and Erin, the babysitter helped me with hair and make up. I had a couple glasses of wine and this seemed like fun. Now that I am here, I am trying to think how to let Penelope see me and get out."
"Well, it is the opposite of you, anyway. And honestly, JJ, you look hot."
"Hot? I look ridiculous."
"No, you don't. You are probably the only woman I know you can wear that. Is that bustier actually leather?"
"I wouldn't talk Emily. Red satin? Are you a Can Can dancer?"
"Well, actually a saloon girl. It was either this or a southern belle, but I couldn't imagine wearing a hoop skirt or crinolines all night. But considering the looks I got, I think I should have dressed as a nun."
"I know. You would think at a benefit for a Women's Crisis Center they men would be just a little more evolved."
"Speaking of evolved men, have you seen anyone else?"
"Not yet."
"As tempting as it is to hide in here, JJ, I think we better brave it. If we are together we can watch each other's back. I'm armed. How about you?"
"Do you see anywhere to hide a piece in this outfit? I'm lucky you don't know that I have an inny."
Emily snorted her laughter and opened the door. She figured if they were there till dinner got served, they could cut out then. Being a veteran of these things helped her time that to about 2 hours. 120 minutes. She and JJ could do this.
The two women headed back to their table to see Spencer Reid dressed as a football player. They both privately agreed the shoulder pads probably weighed more than he did. But it was a clever costume for him. The laughed even harder at Derek Morgan dressed as a nerd. He was at first almost unrecognizable in the big square glasses held together with a safety pin and Band-aid. The pants were 2 sizes to big at least and 3 inches too short. The pocket protector on his ink stained shirt tucked into the high waisted pants completed the look. Derek was laughing with Penelope who was dressed in all grey. Her severely pulled back bun, sweater and pleated long wool skirt were completely out of character. It was only her smile that shone above the drab costume.
Suddenly, JJ grabbed Emily's arm. Emily looked down in concern. Had another jerk tried to pinch her again?
"Emily. Oh my God. Rossi."
It was the only thing coherent JJ was saying. When she followed JJ's line of sight, she saw the normally dapper profiler wearing a red track suit, sideway's baseball cap and enough bling around his neck to make MR. T jealous. Looking carefully, at the baggy outfit, Emily was willing to bet Rossi had his normal pressed jeans and tailor made shirt underneath his rapper's costume. She had to laugh at his portrayal of his opposite.
JJ's reaction to Rossi was nothing compared to his reaction to her. The scotch in his hand stopped an inch away from his open mouth. By any standards, it was a long pause, but to a group of profilers, it was a flashing light and siren. They had suspected the senior profiler was interested in JJ. This confirmed it. Emily, Pen and Derek shared a smirk. It wasn't until Reid began to recount the history of Harley Davidson that Rossi moved. His drink was forgotten on the table and he pulled JJ out to the dance floor.
Reid was about to sit in a corner and observe until Pen dragged a cheerleader up to him. She was petite, blonde and Emily wondered how her tiny nose held up those glasses.
"Spencer Reid, this is Jeanette Landon. She volunteers here for us, but in real life is a legal researcher for the Rawlings Institute. She came alone and I invited her to sit with us. I have a feeling you might have a lot in common. Reid looked perplexed but invited her to sit.
"Jeanette, you should ask him about that book you were mentioning to me."
When she mentioned an obscure translation of a middle English work she was puzzling over 'just for fun', Reid's eyes brightened. It was clear that matchmaker Garcia had struck gold.
Emily was so amused by this that she didn't realize at first that an arm had slid around her and began to pull her toward the dance floor. Emily glanced down at the much shorter and rounder man dressed as an angel with the surprisingly firm grip. As she was pulling away, slightly disgusted by his inability to raise his eyes from her cleavage, she caught a glimpse of a man in black. Emily shook the man off harder than she thought, based upon the way he staggered.
The man in black strode toward their table, the crowd parting for him. For a moment Emily forgot how to breathe. Even in his usual navy blue suit and tie combo, Aaron Hotchner had inspired a few heated dreams. But dressed in a pair of tight black jeans, black button up shirt and black vest, this was a fantasy come to life. Around his hips was slung an old fashioned western gun belt with a very obvious toy gun. It was hard to see his face at first because of the black stetson on his head. Oh my God, she thought, were those actual cowboy boots? Aaron looked mean, dangerous and like walking sex, she thought.
Until she looked at his face. It was stern as usual, but laced over that was a sense of discomfort. He hated this. He clearly had no idea of the reaction from the women in the ballroom. Every woman wanted to be wearing less and every man wearing something silly wanted that costume.
As he got closer, the expression on his face changed. He was looking at Emily. Not just looking but taking in every detail of her appearance. Emily licked her suddenly too dry lips and watched as his eyes watched every movement of her tongue. Morgan's voice cut through their stalemate.
"Hotch! A bad guy?"
"It was Jessica and Jack. It was either this or clown. But when I understood make-up was required for that look, I went with this. I am technically a gunslinger, or at least that's what they told us at the costume shop."
"Ooh boss-man, you should keep this whole look, especially the hat. Don't you think so Emily?"
Emily broke off from her staring. Just as she was about to answer, the chubby little angel tried again.
"Come on doll. You're dressed like an old fashioned hooker, right? Go with it!"
"The lady stays. She is with me. We were just about to dance."
That deep voice seemed to leap from Emily's private fantasy right into the ballroom. Hotch held out his hand and Emily didn't hesitate for a moment. He led her out to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms.
"I hope you don't mind. It occurred to me that if he were dressed as an angel, his opposite would not be…"
"Mind? Not at all. I thought the same thing when he tried dragging me out before. And considering his eyes never got above my chin, he was so not the man of my dreams."
Hotch couldn't help but glance down at the expanse of skin above the red satin. He could understand how the guy felt, but forced his eyes up to Emily's laughing brown ones. She felt amazing in his arms. He allowed himself to slide his hand along the back of the costume very slightly. Oh, the satin warmed by her skin made his fingers itch to really stroke.
Wait, was that his hand? Was he stroking her back? His face seemed just a little flushed. Emily decided to experiment and leaned ever so slightly into him. Yes! His arms tightened around her as if without thought.
"A clown? I think it might have been worth the price of admission to see you in a red nose."
"I was willing to learn to dance in the oversized shoes, but then I learned I would have to carpool with 15 other clowns in a compact car."
Emily let a giggle slip. He was deadpan, but his eyes were actually twinkling. Oh no, just when she thought the man couldn't get any more amazing, he made her laugh too. Her laughter caused her chest to move closer to him. He held his breath lest she feel it and move away. Emily wasn't going anywhere. She was pulled against that body those suits had hidden for years. No matter what else happened tonight, she was fueling some future fantasies.
It had been a long time since Aaron had held a woman this close. He had tried dating once or twice, but none of the women had seemed right. Emily Prentiss in his arms, soft and sweet smelling, and smiling up at him went past right. She felt perfect. He privately hoped the music wouldn't end.
When it did, he sat with Emily and the team more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He should have taken note of JJ and Rossi's closeness. Considering how he was feeling about Prentiss, it seemed hypocritical to condemn Dave. He had long been aware of his friend's interest in JJ. Hotch had been a little surprised it had taken Dave this long to make a move. He had expected it sooner. Monday would be a supervisory nightmare. He rose as Emily, JJ, Garcia and the little cheerleader headed for the ladies room. Oh God, did she even know how her hips twitched in that ruffled dancers skirt? He started as a drink was slid in front of him.
"Aaron. I think you need this."
Dave's amused eyes met his.
"I have been wondering when you would act on that."
"Act on what Dave?"
"Oh, no. Don't turn back into Unit Chief on me. You may have fooled everyone else, but I know you better. You've been watching her for months now. Correction, you have noticed her for years. You were hollow when she was gone. And now that she's back, you, well, let's say absence made the heart grow much fonder."
"Dave, even if that were true…"
"No, Aaron, listen to me. This is good. It's very good. She feels the same and I think has for a long time. There is no one and I mean no one who will have a problem with this. Those rules were written because of me and some stupid actions when I was younger. The workplace has changed."
"The rules have not."
"Perhaps, but they are happily ignored all the time. Don't let this go because of a job. You both deserve this. Take this chance."
A small smile ghosted his face and Rossi toasted Aaron.
"Believe me. I plan to."
"Dave, no. Our team is under enough scrutiny."
"Listen to me carefully, Aaron Hotchner. I am not a young man anymore. When it comes to it, neither are you. One day, sooner for me than you, we will leave this job. We'll get a lunch, a fake gold watch and a farewell. They will replace us. Then you have the rest of your life to live. Jack will grow up and move on with his life. Do you plan to be alone forever? Not me. Here they come. Think about your life in the long term Aaron."
Hotch watched Emily laughing with JJ. The red corset top defined her slim waist and pushed her breasts up. The black and red skirt had a high opening at the front that showcased her long toned legs as she walked. Her eyes met his and she smiled even wider. His life in the long term, Rossi had advised. What would his life in the long term be like with or without her. The bleakness that had defined those long months she was gone came rushing back to him.
Emily had been laughing with the other women over some of the costume choices. The large number of nuns and angels were duly noted. They decided that they probably didn't want to know those people in real life. She looked across the room at Hotch standing with a drink in his hand. Did he even know how sexy he looked? She knew she was staring, but so were a lot of other women. Their eyes caught again. She wasn't sure what this all meant. Suddenly, he put it down and strode from the room.
She caught up to him in the deserted hallway.
"Hotch? Are you leaving? What's wrong?"
Of course she would come after him. Emily was a caretaker. From the time his ears had been damaged in that blast, she had watched out for him. It came rushing to him. What if Dave was right. Was she interested too? She deserved the courtesy of an answer at least. But he had no idea what he would tell her. He stopped and let her catch him.
"Is Jack OK? I thought you were having a good time? What's wrong?"
"Prentiss, Emily. I think I better go. No, Jack is fine. Yes, it was having a good time. I just think I better, I mean it would be better for you if I left."
"What? I don't understand? Why should I want you to leave?"
"Because, I want and I can't and we…"
Now
Emily was getting very nervous. The brilliant, articulate attorney was babbling, She had never seen him like this. Something must be very wrong and it had to do with her. She stepped closer and put her hand on his chest, seeking to offer him some kind of comfort.
"Aaron? Please let me help you."
Her scent, her touch, and her proximity did him in. He glanced down the hallway. It was pretty quiet, but still too public. He grabbed the wrist that was so close to him and pulled her into the nearest room. It turned out to be a small conference room. There was a small light by the desk area that gave the room a subtle glow. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see each other. For Hotch, that was all that mattered. He turned to pull her inside and close the door and she stumbled against him. Instinctively, his arm slid around her to catch her. He stood like that of a long moment, one hand closing the door, the other wrapped around Emily. Neither spoke or moved. When he finally let go of the door, it closed with a small bang that startled her. She jumped just a little, but it pushed her closer against him. It was that slight movement that snapped his control.
He pulled her even tighter with both arms. When she looked up at him, the question on her lips was kissed off by him. It was not the sweet, gentle kiss of a young girl's dream. This was a deep demanding kiss that stole her breath. For a moment, she stayed passive, too surprised to move. That lasted only a moment. She was in Aaron Hotchner's arms. He was kissing the breath from her. He had one of her arms pinned between them, but she immediately wrapped the other around his neck and pulled herself up and closer if possible. The black Stetson was pushed off and fell unnoticed.
That short dark hair was softer than she imagined. She could feel the strength of his neck and wanted to taste heated skin above those muscles. But then he angled his head just so and slowed the frenzied kiss to deliberate strokes. Every inch of her mouth was explored. She wanted more of that than she wanted air. She met his explorations with her own. Emily strained to get closer and pulled herself onto the toes of her high heeled boots. Aaron responded by hauling her higher against him. That little friction of their bodies against each other's was enough to cause him to groan deep in his throat. Even her best fantasies had never sounded this sexy.
When air finally forced them to separate ever so slightly, they stared at each other. Suddenly, he pulled away, dropping his arms from around her. Turning away, he almost tripped on the hat she had tossed aside. He clutched the black felt between his fists, crushing the brim. Drawing in deep ragged breaths, Hotch tried desperately to regain some kind of control. He sank onto the sofa. When he finally looked up, she was still there against the door. Her deep breaths forcing that brief costume to rise and fall. Her lips were swollen. She just looked at him. She didn't seem angry. He was disgusted at his lack of control.
"That. I was leaving before I did that. I am so sorr…"
In a moment, she was over to him. Placing her hand over his mouth, she stopped the apology.
"No. No lies. No apologies. No regrets. No act of contrition."
She took the abused hat from his hands and tossed over to the end table. Cradling the beautifully stern face in her hands, she let her thumb drift over his lips. He allowed himself to lean into her caress. His eyes drifted shut for a moment. Emily had spent long lonely months dreaming of such a moment. Emily had him here, looking dark, dangerous and she now knew delicious. She would not let him talk himself into doing the right thing. She pushed his shoulders back against the cushions and sank onto his lap straddling him.
His hands came up to steady her without thought. It had been too long since he had felt the sweet weight of a woman pressed against him like this. Her breasts were pushed up against him, her soft heat, even through the layers cushioned him perfectly. Even her mouth was at the ideal level now. Before he could even act, she leaned in and began slowly raining kisses all over his face. By the time she got to his mouth, his arms had tightened around her again.
Part of Emily was horrified that she had pinned Aaron Hotchner to the sofa and was kissing and grinding against him. But that portion of her mind was quickly shoved into a locked cabinet in her brain. He had accepted those small kisses passively. That passivity didn't last when she kissed his mouth. Then he took over and she happily let him. But she wasn't still. A small roll of her hips confirmed what she had guessed. Every inch of her unit chief was muscle and in all the right places. One more slide of her hips before his hands grasped her to stop her.
"Emily"
It was just her name, and he all but growled it in a low voice. She sighed his name back to him on a whimper.
"I don't want to lose complete control here like this. I have wanted you too long…"
She couldn't resist. One more slight shift against his denim clad hardness hit her in the perfect spot. In a move that stunned her for its swiftness, he had her on her back against the cushions. The next moments were filled with sighs, groans and the frantic sound of clothing being moved and removed. Both their movements were frenzied and feverish.
When he finally slid completely into her wet heat, they both stilled for a moment, as if realizing the enormity. The sweet perfection of how well they fit hit them simultaneously. He looked down at her flushed beauty, his breath stolen by the exquisite feel of her surrounding him.
No appliance in the world felt like this. She was filled, stretched and touched in places she hadn't felt in years, if ever. She smiled softly at him and tipped herself slightly to bring him closer if she could.
"Oh God, Emily. Give me a moment. It's been so long and I have wanted you so much."
The idea that she could bring him to the edge of his control was a potent sensation. She suddenly understood addictions. This was a feeling she could crave more than air. Emily leaned up and brushed her lips softly against his.
"Aaron, I want you too. Please?"
Flesh met flesh, taking them both to a place of passionate heights. Physically, the journey was short and heated. Emotionally, it had taken them years. As they lay in that sweet stupor afterwards, Emily suddenly let out a soft laugh.
"I have a feeling we missed the costume contest."
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