Shoving the new bucket of gummi bears into the candy container, Emily let out a breath and stood up straight when she felt her back begin to ache. "Jenna, can you get me the crushed snickers, please?" She smiled and brushed a hair from her eye at the look the teenager gave her. "Thank you."

"You could do it yourself," the girl groaned.

"You could have no job and go home to take out the trash," Emily grinned. "So? The crushed snickers please?" Looking up to the sound of a laugh, Emily smiled. "Hi, how can I help you?"

The handsome man glanced down to his wallet and pulled out a few bills, smiling at the beautiful voice of the younger brunette. "Your daughter, huh?"

Emily laughed at the knowing smirk he was wearing. "You have kids too?"

"Three," he nodded, gesturing outside. "They're out waiting for me; too lazy to come in and order themselves."

Smiling gently to the older man that stood on the other side of the counter, the single mother made her way around to the ice creams. "So what can I get you?"

"Um, two small chocolates, a small mint chocolate chip and a medium coconut, please." He watched as the beautiful woman turned around to get the cups ready and he smiled. "So do you own this place?"

"I do," Emily chuckled. "It's a small chain, I own eleven stores but most are up in New York and then over in Nevada and Texas. This is the only one in D.C," she grinned, scooping the green ice cream into its cup.

The dark eyed man looked to the working woman with admiration in his eyes. "Well you just blew my salary out of the water."

Emily's eyes crinkled as she laughed. "Well what do you do?"

"FBI," he nodded, watching as the younger brunette looked to him with wide eyes. "Relax, I'm not here to bust you."

"No," she breathed, "it's just that that's the job I wanted when I got out of college. Well the BAU to be exact."

His smile widened, Emily immediately falling in love with his dimples that popped out, and he stuck out his hand to the single mother. "Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia."

"No way," Emily laughed, shaking his hand with vigor. "Emily Prentiss, ice cream shop owner." Taking her hand back from the handsome father before her, she went back to scooping the ice cream. "See how yours sounds so much better than mine?"

Aaron shook his head, noticing the dark haired teen that he had seen earlier coming out from the back of the shop with a bag of candy. "You make more money, you win."

"You get more satisfaction from yours, so you win." The brunette woman glared playfully to the FBI agent, putting the covered ice cream cups in a bag so he could carry them easier. "Don't try me."

"Well what do I owe you?"

Emily walked away from the ice creams after shutting the freezer's door and made her way to the cash register. "Twelve dollars, please."

"Fifteen," Aaron nodded, stuffing the extra three into the tip jar beside the cash register. "If this is any good, I'll have to come back for seconds."

"Well I hope you do," the mother grinned, watching as he took some spoons from the holder on the counter. "So where are you and your kids headed? It's a pretty hot day."

Aaron watched as the question sparkled in the shop owner's eyes, and he smiled as politely as he could. "We're going to visit their mother," he nodded. "We go every Sunday afternoon."

So he was divorced. The brown eyed brunette made a mental note of the words and let out a breath. "Well I hope you all have fun."

Sharing one last smile with the new face he had met, making a memory of every inch of ivory skin that she beheld, Aaron walked back out into the sun and gathered all of his kids in front of him. "You guys ready?" He handed each of them their desserts and threw the bag in the nearest trash can before leading them to the cemetery down the street, where they took their usual seats before the decorated gravestone.