Hi everyone. First may I say a huge thank you for all those who voted for me in the CM Profiler's Choice Awards. You helped me win the title of Best Author (tied with Kricket Williams). I am completely humbled by this recognition, although to be honest, I really don't think I deserve it! But wow, thank you so very much for your votes. I am so very amazed and touched that you find my stories and me worthwhile of such an award.
Some of you may have seen a couple of other fics written for the same prompt as this "Hooking Up at the Office Christmas Party". Well, just so you know, it came about when Thomas Gibson said that Hotch and Prentiss would never get together (we knew that, but still, ouch!) but then he jokingly said that this might be the only place they would hook up. So I thought it would be fun if a bunch of us Hotch/Prentiss authors got together and wrote a fic based on that prompt. So here's my entry, which has turned out to be a saga! I do hope you enjoy it. P/s. in this fic AUSA stands for Assistant United States Attorney.
Thanks as always, saturdayslump, for your awesome betaing skills. You're the best!
I do not own any of these characters, but if someone wants to give me Hotch as a Christmas present, who am I to say no?
A very merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you. May 2012 bring you all you hope for.
"Are you kidding me?" Emily looked up from the report she was reading to see Morgan with an incredulous expression on his face. "Have you guys seen this email?"
"What email?" asked Reid.
"Reid, you need to get with the programme and read your emails, man! You can't keep depending on us to tell you important stuff." Emily watched as Morgan shot Reid a frown.
His colleague gave negligent shrug of his shoulders. "It's worked so far."
Morgan shook his head in frustration. "Apparently, we have to attend a seminar."
Emily started laughing from her desk when she saw the email in question. "Oh my God, are they serious? This seminar is mandatory?"
"What seminar?" asked Reid.
Garcia came rushing up to them. "Hey, can you believe that email? Why the sudden need to cover their butts? I mean we've been having them since the beginning of time, haven't we?"
"What's going on?" Reid was starting to look frustrated. Emily grinned.
She got up and came over to sit on Morgan's desk. "Well, I hear that it's because there were 'incidents' last year at the both the DEA and, believe it or not, the AUSA parties. Who'd have guessed a bunch of dull ass lawyers would have had the imagination to have a nude pool party at a hotel in the middle of LA!" Her eyes suddenly widened when she saw their supervisor approach. Crap. Great timing as usual, Emily. "Oh hey, Hotch, we're just talking about the seminar. We don't really have to go, do we?"
"Well, unless mandatory also means optional, then yes, we have to go." Hotch raised his voice, "And that includes you, Dave!" Emily stifled a laugh when Dave stopped in his tracks, obviously in the midst of trying to sneak away before anyone saw him. Unfortunately, Hotch's eyes were sharper than a hawk's. His hearing was extraordinary too. She'd have bet her coffee ration for the day that he heard her last comment about lawyers.
Dave heaved a sigh and walked over. "C'mon, Hotch, I've been to a million and one of these seminars. They're all the same."
"Be that as it may, we all still need to attend. And there will be attendance sheets. Anyone whose name doesn't appear on those sheets answers to Strauss."
"Hey, Dave, you have a history with Strauss, can't you sweet talk her into letting us out of it?" teased Morgan.
"I'd rather attend the seminar. Twice over," replied Dave drolly, eliciting a laugh from everyone except Hotch, who was looking his usual serious self.
"All right, it's almost nine, let's get to the conference room for the seminar."
There were a series of groans as they all got up. Emily chuckled when she heard Reid ask Morgan again. "What's the seminar about, Morgan? Come on."
Morgan replied, "It's a surprise. If you want to be in the know next time, check your email."
Emily fell into step with Hotch as they proceeded to the conference room. "Hotch, about that lawyer comment, I really didn't mean any offence."
"What comment?" He looked at her; an eyebrow lifted the barest amount.
"You know, about not having any imagination." Emily gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm sure you have a great imagination." She wondered if he did. A-type personalities generally weren't the most creative sorts.
"Not normally. But pour a few drinks in me, and the things I come up with will astound you. You know us buttoned-down, dull, repressed lawyers. Once we let loose, even knowing about sexual harassment suits and the consequences thereof doesn't seem to stop us." The corners of his mouth curved upwards, making her laugh.
They arrived at the door to the conference room. She smiled at him. "Well, in that case, I suggest you don't drink at all during the party. I don't particularly want to be a witness for the plaintiff in a sexual harassment suit where you're the defendant."
Hotch shook his head and she bit back a laugh. If Hotch ever sexually harassed someone, she would quit her job and become a nun. Hell, she was practically a nun, anyway, the last time she got laid was like in 2007. At least it felt that way. For all she knew, her lady parts had sealed up from disuse. Trying to find a decent, eligible man in DC – that wasn't a politician or gay - was pretty much impossible. She sighed as she slipped into a seat next to Garcia.
"Hey, Eeyore, what's with the long face?"
"Nothing. Just bemoaning the fact that there are no single, decent men left in DC."
Garcia took a quick look around the room, the hot pink daisy stuck in her bun jiggling about madly as if it was trying to escape and re-join its companions in the wild. "Well, there's Pembry, Smythe, Edgarton and Anderson, not to mention the four extremely eligible gentlemen in our unit."
"Too short, too tall, way too boring, too uh ... Anderson and I can't date anyone in our unit!" Was Garcia kidding?
"That right there is why you're still single and dateless, you're way too fussy," the tech analyst whispered back. She leaned closer, her mouth next to Emily's ear. "You know, it's too bad you won't date anyone in our unit, because JJ and I both think you and Hotch would look darn cute together."
Emily gave her friend an are-you-completely-crazy look but before they could continue their conversation, a middle-aged woman in a grey suit stepped up to the small podium.
"Good morning, everyone. My name is Jane March and I will be presenting this seminar today. As you know, the festive season is fast approaching and there will be the obligatory Christmas parties and other social gatherings to attend. Gatherings where there will be an abundance of alcohol and as a result a severe shortage of rational thought and self-control. It wouldn't surprise you to know that it's during these occasions where there is the highest incidence of sexual harassment suits and tortious claims resulting from physical injury and property damage."
She smiled at the bureau employees in the room. "I know most of you would probably prefer to be somewhere else rather than here, but I promise that it's going to be reasonably painless. We'll start off with going through the various legislation relating to sexual harassment including the code of conduct you all operate under, then we'll talk about some situations that have arisen in recent times and finally the steps we can take to prevent or at least minimise the risks of such behaviour taking place. Now, I want to start with an exercise. I see you're all seated in rows of eight which breaks you up into even pairs. Will each of you look at the person you're paired with?"
Emily's quick glance told her that her partner was Hotch. Darn it, she was so hoping it was Garcia. It could be worse, she supposed. Like if her partner had been Strauss. She turned to look at her supervisor. Great, what was this exercise going to involve? It better not be anything sexually suggestive. She wasn't sure she would be able to look into his eyes afterwards. Hotch swivelled around slightly to face her. Their eyes met.
"Imagine that the person you're looking at has had far too much to drink and has just propositioned you. What would your reaction be? How would you respond? Would you be outraged? Ladies, would you slap his cheek? Gentlemen, would you take advantage of the lady in question?"
Emily screwed up her face, trying to imagine Hotch propositioning her. There was no way he would ever do cross that line, and try as she might, she just couldn't picture it.
Hotch's eyes narrowed. "Emily," he murmured, "you look like you're about to burst a blood vessel. Having some difficulty there?"
"I can't even imagine you drunk, much less propositioning me. What sort of silly exercise is this anyhow?" She slumped back against her chair.
"I think the point is that not only are there possible legal and disciplinary consequences, there is also the fact that your professional relationships will be affected." His mouth twitched.
"What?" asked Emily suspiciously, noting the amusement in his eyes.
"I, on the other hand, am having no difficulty picturing you drunk and coming on to me." Hotch looked at her with a straight face.
"Oh great, you choose now to make a joke." Emily gave her supervisor a mock glare. She was actually enjoying herself immensely. She loved seeing him like this, an almost smile on his face and laughter dancing in his eyes. Whoa. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. So much so that she could practically smell burnt rubber. Loved? Where the hell had that word come from?
"I do have a sense of humour, you know. It may be drier than dust, but it's there." He smiled.
She felt her heart skip a beat at the appearance of his dimples. Okay, this was not good. What was wrong with her? It was all Garcia's fault, planting that suggestion in her head about her and Hotch. That was all, just her subconscious working overtime. Helped along by an epic case of sexual frustration. "Just because I'm a friendly drunk doesn't mean I come on to strange men. Which is one of the reasons why I haven't had sex in like forever." She suddenly realised what she had said when Hotch's eyebrows rose by a quarter of an inch. He had the exact same look when she had told him she had dated worse people than Viper. She felt her face heat.
"Good to know I won't have to keep an eye on you at the Christmas party. I'll have enough on my hands making sure Dave and Morgan keep their hands to themselves."
She grinned at him. Thank God for his tact. "And their pants zipped," she quipped.
"Ms. March," called out Morgan. "No offence, but say we're at the party, having a good time, downing a substantial number of drinks. Not that I'll be doing that, of course," he quickly added, throwing a quick glance at Strauss. Everyone laughed, and even Strauss smiled. "We're not going to suddenly remember the valuable lessons we've taken away from this seminar."
"That's true. That is why I suggest that there be a chaperone at your party, so to speak. Someone who will keep an eye on the gathering to ensure that there are no improprieties. That person will of course need to refrain from drinking that night."
"Hey, Reid, how about it? Sounds like a perfect job for you," teased Morgan.
"Why not? I've always wanted to be called Dr. Kill Joy." Reid looked completely serious. There was a chorus of chuckles around the room.
"Good one, Reid," said Emily, snickering at the fact that Morgan was looking somewhat stumped by Reid's reply.
As Ms. March started her spiel on the relevant legislation, Hotch murmured to Emily, "I think it's traditionally been me who's been called the kill joy at the Christmas party, hasn't it?" At her raised eyebrows, he continued. "It doesn't exactly take a profiler to figure out what the other agents think about me. The risk adverse lawyer incapable of enjoying himself."
Poor Hotch. She replied in an undertone. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Hotch. Nobody's called you a kill joy." She paused, looking sympathetically at him. "I seem to recall it was SSA Party Pooper."
Hotch shook his head, looking resigned. "Thanks Prentiss, I can always count on you to make me feel better." His tone was dry.
"Any time, sir."
"This is some do," commented Morgan as he, Emily, Dave and Reid stood near the bar, holding their drinks and observing the people milling about in the large ballroom. Hotch, Garcia and Kevin were currently seated at their allocated table, chatting. Emily glanced over and smiled. Well, Garcia was chatting. Hotch and Kevin were merely giving the occasional nods. At the end of the sexual harassment seminar two weeks ago, Strauss had informed them that senior management had decided that this year they would set aside the usual practice of the divisional groups having their own Christmas parties. Instead there would be a joint Christmas party at a hotel in the city for the staff from both the DC field office and from Quantico.
The theme for the party was 'An Australian Christmas', so aside from the traditional Christmas tree and baubles dotted around the circumference of the room, there were huge panoramic pictures of sea and sand, lounge chairs complete with beach towels, and beach umbrellas placed strategically as decorations. Emily didn't think there was anything really Australian about the scene at all, except for a rather sad looking kangaroo which she thought was more than likely borrowed from the Australian High Commission.
A scantily clad blonde in a blue swimsuit and matching wrap offered them some hot sausage rolls which the men accepted.
"I didn't know sausage rolls were Australian." Dave took a bite.
"Maybe they're made from kangaroo meat." Morgan grinned before popping the hors d'oevre into his mouth. His eyes followed the back of the blonde with appreciation as she swayed past their little group. "I think I might go to Australia for my next holiday."
"You know Australian women don't walk along the streets dressed in bikinis right?" Emily rolled her eyes.
"Just because I'm not as well travelled as you Prentiss, doesn't mean I know nothing about other cultures. For instance, I know that Australian women are some of the most beautiful in the world." He winked at her.
"Reid, you're closer to Morgan. Punch him for me, will you?"
"I don't think I will, Emily. Last time I did that Morgan punched me back really hard."
"That's why you need to attend the self-defence classes, Reid." She looked around, noting that many of the men in attendance were, like Morgan, eyeing the waitresses in their beachwear. "So much for minimising the risk of lawsuits." That seminar had been a waste of time. Except for that little exercise she had had with Hotch. That had been fun.
"So, what do you guys want for Christmas this year?" Morgan looked around the team.
Dave replied first. "I just want us not to get any calls for a consult. Please God, I really need to finish the first draft of my new book."
"My sisters are getting me a PS3 and Skyrim. I don't plan to sleep for 3 days." Morgan looked like he would have rubbed his hands in glee if he hadn't been holding his vodka and lime.
"I'm not even going to ask what Skyrim is," said Emily. "What about you, Reid?"
"I don't want anything really. I'd just like some time off. I've been planning to reread my collection of Tolstoy."
"Riveting," murmured Dave, taking a sip of his scotch.
"You, Princess? What do you want for Christmas?"
"Peace and goodwill toward all men. And that includes no murder, kidnapping, rape, torture, or anything of a freaky nature. That would be great."
The men in her team laughed.
"C'mon, Emily, seriously, what do you want?" Morgan looked curiously at her.
"Seriously? You really want to know?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. At his nod, she shrugged, sipping her mai tai. "I really, really, wanna get laid. Just a handful of orgasms. That's all I want for Christmas."
Reid was coughing, having choked on his drink when she said the word orgasms. Meanwhile Morgan was laughing like a hyena and Dave was chuckling.
"Hey, you asked. Sorry, Reid. Here, take my napkin." Emily pressed it into his hand. "Santa better do his thing. Because I'm antsy as hell," she muttered, as Morgan and Dave shook their heads while Reid wiped his mouth.
"Speaking of antsy, I think Jolene Carter's trying to get into Hotch's pants again."
Emily automatically looked over at Hotch upon Dave's pronouncement. Garcia and Kevin had moved to the dance floor, leaving Hotch sitting alone, vulnerable to all sorts of assaults. The current one being from SSA Carter. The red-haired agent in her mid-forties was standing next to him, leaning dangerously close, so close in fact that another three inches and her very generous bosom was going to smother Hotch. The only reason it wasn't was because he was leaning as far back as his chair would allow.
"For goodness sake, he's already turned her down twice, can't she tell he's not interested? I thought you said she used to be a profiler." Emily was surprised at the anger she was experiencing. She was just outraged on Hotch's behalf that was all. The poor man had the most uncomfortable expression on his face. He was obviously too much of a gentleman to say a firm no.
"I said she used to be a profiler, I didn't say she was a very good one. And she doesn't like taking no for an answer when she's had a few drinks."
Emily turned to look at her colleague. "Am I imagining it or do you know her, Dave?"
He shrugged, a smile playing about his mouth. "I may or may not have been the object of her desire back in the day."
Emily rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised? It's like you're Morgan 15 years ago."
"Hey," protested Morgan, pretending to look offended. He was probably flattered that she had compared him to Rossi.
"I think you mean Morgan's like me 15 years ago. And I wasn't that bad, thank you very much," Dave retorted.
Emily gave him a disbelieving look. "If you say so. Now what can we do to get Carter's attention off Hotch?"
"Hmm ... that could be a challenge. When Jolene sets her mind on something, she's pretty much unstoppable."
"Come on, Dave, any minute now Hotch is either going to suffocate or his chair's going to tip over." She wasn't exaggerating. Hotch was actually pushing himself so far back his chair was leaning precariously on two legs.
"Well, I guess we could try and convince her that he's already taken."
Emily didn't even pause to consider Dave's suggestion. "Great idea." She drained her mai tai and putting her glass on the counter, strode over, leaving her colleagues staring after her in surprise. She stopped abruptly next to the statuesque woman, extending her hand. The agent was forced into taking it, automatically straightening up as she did so and moving away from Hotch. Emily heard the thud of Hotch's chair as he righted it.
"Agent Carter is it? Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss. Thank you so much for entertaining Aaron for me. I was held up at the bar. Really, can you believe the line? You'd think people were convinced it was an open bar or something," deadpanned Emily. She looked down at Hotch. "You should have taken up my offer of a drink, honey, because it's going to be at least another half an hour before you'd reach the front of the line." She took half a step towards him and put her hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile. She saw his eyes flare with the knowledge of what she was doing. Good.
"Uh, you mean you're with Aaron?" Agent Carter frowned.
Emily leaned closer, pretending that she was sharing a confidence. "Yes, but we're trying to keep it under the radar. You know how it is."
The other agent didn't look convinced. "I know Agent Hotchner. He's not the type who would fraternise with a subordinate."
This was going to be tougher than she thought. Jolene Carter seemed to know a lot about Hotch. She must really be keen to get her red painted talons into him. "Well, to be honest, he didn't really have any choice. We had a difficult case and went out for a few drinks after we got back to DC." Emily lowered her voice. "We were both drunk and I was really horny." She heard Hotch make a faint choking sound. "So I seduced him, we went at it like rabbits and the rest, as they say, is history." She hoped Hotch was managing to keep it together. She herself deserved an Emmy at the very least. "Just between you and me, when he focuses on achieving something, he lets absolutely nothing get in his way. If you know what I mean." She winked at the blonde.
Hotch coughed into his hand while Emily looked guilelessly at Agent Carter. "Really Jolene, may I call you Jolene?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Thanks very much for keeping Aaron company, but if you'll excuse us, he promised me a dance." She smiled down at him. "Didn't you, honey?"
"Yes, of course. Excuse us, Agent Carter." Hotch took Emily's hand and walked quickly to the dance floor. She put her right hand on his shoulder and he placed his left hand on her waist. Taking her other hand in his, he quirked at eyebrow at her, "We went at it like rabbits?"
Emily grinned. "I could tell Jolene Carter wasn't going to be convinced if I gave her some bullshit story about you wining and dining me. She's a... how do I put it without sounding crass... an earthy woman. You're lucky I didn't use the F word when I was talking about our sexual encounter."
"I'm not sure comparing us to rabbits was any better," he said dryly. "But thanks for coming to my rescue. I wasn't quite sure which way to turn."
"Yeah, she looked like she was coming at you from all sides."
Hotch chuckled. They were silent for a while as they swayed to Selena Gomez's I Love You Like a Love Song.
No one compares
You stand alone, to every record I own
Music to my heart that's what you are
A song that goes on and on
When she heard the words from the bridge, Emily felt everything within her become still. She suddenly realised what she had been doing. Why she was still, as Garcia put it, single and dateless. It was because she had been subconsciously comparing every man she had met with Hotch. And no one else had come anywhere close to him. Oh God, she was in love with her boss. The thought made her stumble, and Hotch immediately caught her, his hands steadying her.
"Emily, are you all right?" She blinked at the sudden surge of emotion that swept through her at the look of concern on his face. That was Hotch to the T. Making use of his ultra-tough, implacably hard FBI agent veneer to disguise the unwavering concern he had for each member of his team. Since she had been back, he had regularly checked in with her, making sure that she was coping with her return, but never to the point of being pushy. Without him saying anything, she knew that despite everything that had happened, he still had complete trust in her and in her abilities. His faith in her was humbling, and she had never thanked him for it, even though she desperately wanted to. She just didn't know if she could say it without crying in front of him. And Emily Prentiss never cried in front of anyone. Especially not a man. Even if it was Hotch. It would be showing a weakness which she couldn't afford to do. So she said nothing, and just hoped that he knew that she was thankful that he still believed in her.
She smiled, feeling her lips tremble slightly. "I'm fine, just tripped." She knew he could see through her. But all he did was nod.
"Okay." His reply was simple, accepting. He would never probe unless he felt he had to. How could she not be in love with this man? She felt a wave of tears threaten to overwhelm her and she leaned into him so that her head was next to his, her chin almost touching his shoulder. He couldn't see her face in this position. Get a grip, Emily, you're being completely pathetic. Thankfully, she managed to blink away the incumbent tears after a few seconds.
"So," she cleared her throat when she heard the huskiness in her voice. "Is vampire woman still staring at us?"
"Vampire woman?" There was a question in his voice.
"As in she will put her fangs into you and suck you dry, in more ways than one."
"Uh, yes, vampire woman's eyes are still trained on us. Maybe I just should just let her proposition me and then sue her for sexual harassment." His tone was dry.
Emily leaned back to look at Hotch's face. "How very American of you. Strauss will be glad to know the seminar was good for something." She glanced back at the agent who was still observing them with a suspicious expression on her face. "For the love of God, what do we have to do to convince her?"
"If only we could go at it like rabbits in front of her. That would probably be the only thing that would work. Unfortunately, not only are we not in a relationship, I'm really not the exhibitionist type."
Emily raised her eyebrows. "I'd never have guessed. So, either we leave now or I stay by your side like a faithful girlfriend all night."
Hotch shook his head. "No, you don't have to stay by my side. I don't want to spoil your evening. I'll figure something out. Maybe get Reid to sit with me for a bit."
She didn't bother trying to hide her smile. "First, you will not be spoiling my evening if I were to spend it with you." Oops, that was probably a bit too revealing, going by the slight lowering of his brow. She pretended not to notice. "Second, do you really want to sit with Reid for an extended period of time? Sober?"
He grimaced. "Good point. How's the line at the bar looking?"
She laughed softly. She really did enjoy his dry humour. "Wait. What was it you said? That if only we could go at it like rabbits in front of her?"
"Emily, that look on your face is not something a risk-adverse Unit Chief ever likes to see on a subordinate. What are you thinking?"
"I've got an idea. But it would depend on how keen you are to get rid of Agent Carter."
Hotch was silent, but only very briefly. "Let's just say I'm keen to do anything as long as it's legal. And I'd preferably like to keep my job." He looked up at a point beyond her shoulder. "But whatever you want to do, do it quick because she looks like she's going to head our way any second now."
"Okay, I'm going to talk to Pene. You get Dave to distract Carter. Once I put the plan in place, I'll come get you."
"So ..." Emily sat down on the closed seat of the toilet and looked up at her dark-haired supervisor.
"So ..." Hotch leaned back against the door to the cubicle, a smile playing about his mouth, a mouth that was slowly but surely drawing more and more of her attention. "What do people talk about in situations like this?"
"You mean in situations where two people are about to put on the most suggestive audio show ever in order to convince a man-eater such as Jolene Carter that we are actually dating?" She grinned at him.
"Exactly," Hotch replied, chuckling, the sound sending a thrill of delight through her.
"I know you think I've done some pretty wild things, and you're right, but I can't say I've ever been in this situation before."
His brows drew together. "How exactly is Garcia planning to get Carter to this out of the way ladies room?"
"Oh, Pene's going to spill some champagne on Carter's dress and tell her that the other bathroom's packed, which won't be a lie. I had to come to this one earlier too. It was faster walking to the other end of the hotel than wait for a dozen women to do their business. Another reason why I don't wear pantyhose."
Hotch's eyes dropped down to her legs, which were currently exposed via the thigh high slit in her slinky jade green dress. "You don't need to wear any pantyhose." He appeared to suddenly realise what he had just said and his eyes locked with hers, a slight flush appearing on his cheeks. "Emily ..." His expression had become serious.
She quickly interrupted him before he apologised. "Well, thank you, Hotch. Next you'll be saying I look lovely in this dress." She deliberately kept her voice light.
He paused then took her lead. "You look beautiful in that dress. Green really suits you." He smiled slightly. "I should have told you that earlier."
"Better late than never." She returned his smile. Before she could say anything more, her cell rang twice, then stopped. "Guess it's show time. You ready?"
Their eyes met. "As ready as I'll ever be."
"Now, just remember to do your part."
Hotch gave her an awkward look, strangely reminiscent of Reid's, making Emily grin. "I'll try my best."
They heard the door to the bathroom open a few seconds later. The only warning Emily gave Hotch was when she mouthed 'action'.
"Oh ... Aaron, mm ... yes, just like that," moaned Emily loudly, making each syllable drip with sexual innuendo. "Have I told you how much I love having your mouth on me?" she said breathily, watching Hotch's eyes widen slightly. "Ooohhh," she gasped. "I think … I think … we need to register your tongue as a lethal weapon."
He raised his eyebrows and she winked at him when they heard a rustle of fabric outside the cubicle.
"Oh my goodness," said Garcia in a stage whisper. "Is... is that who I think it is?"
Taking her cue, Emily moaned again, even louder. "Aa..r...on, more, please, ahh … yessssss. Wait, wait, stop!"
Hotch raised his eyebrows when she got off the toilet seat and came right up to him.
"I want you inside me, right now." He stood there, stunned, when she reached down and undid his belt, making as much noise as she could. There was no mistaking the sound of the belt being pulled out of its clasp and the sound of a zipper being hastily lowered.
"Oh, Aaron, take me now." With that she put her hands on his chest and pushed him hard against the cubicle door.
Taken by surprise, he grunted at the impact, not loudly, but loud enough that their eavesdroppers could hear. Emily heard a gasp that she was sure hadn't come from Garcia. She pushed him against the door again, rattling it hard and moaning as she did so. "Yes, that's it. Oh. Ohh ..." She made a circular motion with her hand for him to continue pounding the door.
Hotch shook his head, as if he couldn't believe he was actually doing this, but obligingly turned slightly so that he could use his arm and shoulder to push against the stall. It was a good thing the cubicles in this particular hotel were completely enclosed or he would have had to actually hold her up against the door in case their audience peeked under the door. That would have been somewhat awkward.
"Oh, yes, faster, Aaron, harder." A reluctant grin was slowly lifting the corners of his mouth as he pounded the door in an even faster rhythm, rattling it so loudly that there was no way anyone could have mistaken the sound for what it was.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Each word corresponded to a bang against the door. "Oh yes, more, more. Aa...ron," she wailed loudly, biting her lip so she wouldn't burst out laughing. "I'm coming. Oh, oh, ohhhh ..."
Emily reached out and jabbed Hotch hard in the ribs, wincing when he cried out involuntarily. Sorry, she mouthed, knowing very well that she looked totally unapologetic, but unable to help herself.
He stopped bumping his shoulder against the door and glared at her with narrowed eyes, one hand rubbing the spot at his side. She couldn't help but notice the slight flush on his cheeks. Was that from exertion or was he somehow affected by their act?
"Agent Carter? Are you all right? You look pale," they heard Garcia whisper. "Let me take your arm."
"Just stay away from me!" hissed the other woman. The outer door whooshed open and banged loudly against the wall.
A few seconds passed. "Okay, you two nymphos, mission accomplished," sang out Garcia.
"Thanks, PG! We'll see you back in the ball room," called out Emily. She bit back a smile and averted her eyes as Hotch zipped himself up and fastened his belt.
"Don't rush on my account. Hey, you weren't really doing it in there were you?" the tech analyst asked, giggling. "Because that was like, the most realistic smut I have ever heard. Maybe you could sign up to do the sound effects for audio porn books or something," said Garcia excitedly.
Emily rolled her eyes, laughing. "I'm not sure there's such a thing but we'll be sure to keep that in mind if we ever need extra cash," she replied dryly.
"Okie dokie. I'll see you back in the ball room." A moment later, they heard the outer door swing close.
Hotch and Emily looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter.
"Oh God," she swiped her tears away carefully with her fingertips. "That was hands down the most fun I've had in like forever." She looked up at him. "You were a great sport. Thanks for helping me out with the door action."
"Well, I couldn't let you throw yourself repeatedly at the door. Especially since this was all for my benefit." He looked at her, a half smile on his face.
"I'm really sorry for poking you in the ribs. Does it still hurt?" She reached out unthinkingly and put her hand on his side under his jacket. The moment her hand came in contact with him she realised what she had just done. Her eyes jerked upwards to find his dark gaze on her.
His ribcage moved in and out as he breathed and she could feel his warmth under her palm. "Emily." The huskiness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Even if her life had been at stake, she would still have been unable to tear her gaze from his. Her breath came to a shuddering halt when Hotch lifted up his left hand and cupped her jaw. She could feel the callus at the base of his thumb against her skin. "Emily," he repeated slowly. He had uttered her name before, but never in a tone of such quiet intimacy. She looked at him with wonder as he drew closer.
He moved ever so slowly, giving her every opportunity to back away. As if she would have. As if she could. She watched his lips descend towards her, never wanting anything more in her entire life. Finally, finally, his lips touched hers and he kissed her gently, softly, with such care as if she was made from the most fragile porcelain. His kiss was slow and unhurried, and she leaned into him as it deepened, sliding her hands up his chest. As his skilful tongue slid along the sensitive inner surface of her lips, causing warmth to blossom in the pit of her stomach, she wondered vaguely how she was going to be able to focus on work ever again.
Emily made a soft sound of protest when Hotch lifted his mouth away from hers. She stared speechlessly at him and he stroked his thumb over her bottom lip.
"What do you say to us getting out of here?" Hotch murmured, eyes focussed intensely on her as if he was trying to read her very thoughts. Which he was very likely doing, being the profiler that he was. The thought made her smile.
"Are you propositioning me, Agent Hotchner?"
A corner of his mouth lifted. "I believe I am, Agent Prentiss."
"Thank goodness for that. Because I'd really like for you to take advantage of me in every way you can." Had she been too forward? She bit her lip. But she needn't have worried.
"I'm sure that can be arranged. As long as you promise not to sue me in the morning." Laughter danced in his eyes.
She grinned at him. "You have my permission to sexually harass me anytime and anywhere."
"Well, how about we start with ..." he bent down and whispered in her ear.
Emily's eyebrows rose. "Hotch, I'm shocked. But I'm also extremely titillated." She flashed him a wicked smile. "I think you were selling yourself short. That was rather creative, and you haven't even had a drop to drink."
"I can't claim any credit. You're my inspiration."
She blushed at the heated look he gave her.
After claiming their coats from the coat check, they walked hand-in-hand to Hotch's SUV in the multi-level parking garage. Just after they stepped out of the elevator, Hotch chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
"I never thought I'd be thankful to Strauss for making us attend a sexual harassment seminar."
"What?" Emily looked askance at him.
"Remember that little exercise where we were supposed to picture the person we were paired with coming on to us? Well, it made me start thinking about you more and more until I couldn't get you out of my mind." They reached the SUV. "Believe it or not I've been trying all night to get up the nerve to ask you to dance." His smile was sheepish.
"Hotch." Sweet was not a word anyone would have used to describe this man standing before her, but that was exactly what he was. And so wonderful that she didn't have the words to tell him how she felt. So she showed him instead, leaning up to give him a lingering kiss. She broke off their kiss and gave him a laughing look when a thought suddenly occurred to her.
"What?" He smiled, covering the hand that she had resting over his heart with his larger one.
"It's a good thing that you weren't paired with Reid, huh? Who knows what the two of you would be doing right now."
He gave her a narrowed-eye look as he opened the passenger side door and waited for her to get in. "Keep talking like that and I'll have to put you over my knee."
"Wow, who knew SSA Hotchner had a kinky streak," she teased.
"He's also got an impatient one. Come on, Emily."
She climbed in and waited till he was in the SUV before replying. "Impatient, huh?" She looked at him from under her lashes.
Hotch started the car, turning the heater on. He turned to give her a look of such promise that she felt a shiver run through her. "After our little display in the bathroom, can you blame me?"
She licked her lip in a nervous gesture and his eyes dropped down to her mouth.
"Emily." His voice was a low growl.
She suddenly decided that she couldn't wait the half hour drive it would take to reach either of their apartments. She scooted forward to the edge of the seat and started to take off her heavy winter coat.
"Emily, what are you doing?" Hotch's frown was back. His eyes followed her every move, widening when she leaned back on her seat and pulled up her dress, then quickly stripped off her thong. "Did you just ..." At any other time she would have spared a moment to revel at the look of shock on his face. But not now. She was dying to feel him against her. Inside her.
"Yes, I just took my thong off. Now move your seat back." When he stared at her, still motionless, she repeated herself. "Hotch. Move your seat back. Now."
He blinked and reached down under the seat. The seat started to move back at an agonisingly slow speed.
"Faster, Hotch," she urged. God, this was torturous!
He gave her a wry look. "Emily, this is the fastest it can go."
"Aargh, I cannot believe I'm being thwarted by a freaking car seat!" she groaned.
"Come here," said Hotch, chuckling.
Finally. Her heart beating loudly in her ears, she held up her dress and climbed onto his lap. The muscles of his thighs were hard under her hips. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss under his ear, pleased to hear his breath catch. She continued with her trail of kisses, reaching up to loosen his tie at the same time.
"I really don't think we should be doing this here," he murmured. He didn't stop her hands though, which was now busy unbuckling his belt. In fact, he was sliding his up her sides, and then they were cupping her breasts, which were already aching for his touch.
"It's going to be hours before anyone leaves," she managed to reply. She moaned into his ear when he circled her tightly budded nipples with his thumbs through the thin material of her dress. Sensation stabbed into her groin and she shifted forward without thinking.
They both emitted a simultaneous groan when her bare womanhood came in contact with his trouser-covered erection. Even through the material she could feel how hard he was. Unable to help herself, she ground down against him, panting when the ridge of his shaft rubbed against her clit.
She gasped as he tweaked both nipples, making twin streaks of sensation travel through her and centering in her already moist core. Their unintended foreplay earlier, the surprisingly intense feelings she felt for him and their close proximity in the enclosed space had all combined to make her ready for him even though he had barely even touched her.
"Have I told you how much I love your breasts?" murmured Hotch as he leaned over and sucked on her left earlobe. His hands massaged her gently and she shuddered when she felt his cock jerk against her. "Full and soft and perfect. It's a good thing you don't dress like this during the day or I would definitely get pulled up for sexual harassment." His tongue traced the rim of her ear before dipping inside. His hands drifted down her waist and then he was urging her up onto her knees.
Emily's eyes, which had drifted close, flared open when his hand lifted up her dress. His other hand touched her between her thighs and her mouth fell open in a soundless gasp.
"H..Hotch, uhh ..." His middle finger delicately encircled her sensitive nub before starting to rub it, the pressure feather-light. Up and down, up and down, then around and around. "Please, Hotch, don't...don't tease." Her hands scrambled blindly to find purchase on his shoulders and her eyes drank in the sight of the lust glittering in his dark gaze. "No," she moaned when he removed his finger, but any further protest was immediately silenced when he slid his finger further back through her slick heat. Without any preliminaries, he sank it into her.
Grabbing hold of his suit in her fists, she gasped wildly, canting her hips to give him better access. He barely gave her any time to get used to him before he withdrew and added another finger upon the next entry. Emily whimpered at the roughness of the stroke, feeling her body stretch to accommodate his broad digits. Hotch kept his fingers buried within her, pressing upwards into the roof of her tight channel. White hot shards of pleasure streaked through her core, sparking a pathway straight into her brain and she jerked forward to kiss him, desperate for the touch and taste of him.
Their kiss was wild and violent and out of control, tongues tangling and teeth scraping. His fingers were now stroking that nerve rich spot within her ceaselessly and she ground her engorged clit hard against the base of his thumb. Tension coiled in the base of her belly, tighter and tighter until suddenly, everything exploded in kaleidoscope of colours behind her eyelids. She moaned her release into his mouth and dropped her head against his neck, breathing in the heated scent of his cologne and their arousal.
Hotch removed his hand, and she shifted to give him room to unzip his slacks. The moment they gaped open, his penis sprang up, still constricted by his grey cotton boxer briefs. Despite the fact that she could still feel the aftershocks from her climax, Emily felt a fresh wave of moisture between her thighs when she saw the damp patch of fabric on the grey material. She had to touch him. Right now.
It took a few seconds to release him from his underwear but she finally managed it, licking her dry lips when she perused his hard length in all its glory. Like him, his manhood had more length than girth, its dark red head weeping drops of pre-cum, telling her how immensely aroused he was. When she took him into her hand, it jerked hard, its heat searing against her palm. She stroked her hand from base to tip, and back again before Hotch grabbed her wrist, hard. Her eyes jumped up to meet his.
"Enough," he said through gritted teeth. Without further ado, he gripped her around the waist and positioned her over his swollen shaft, then stilled, a question in his eyes.
She read his mind. "I'm on the pill. Don't stop."
His eyes darkened and he didn't reply, just drew her down unto his pulsing cock. Emily's head dropped back and she bit her lip hard as he forged through the swollen tissue, her body automatically tightening to fight the invasion. "Relax, Emily, let me in," he murmured, lifting her up and then pulling her back down until with a soft grunt, he was fully sheathed within her.
She only had time to take a breath before he started thrusting into her in earnest, his hands guiding her movements while she used her knees as leverage as best she could. The friction of his cock as it slid in and out of her was indescribably pleasurable, each descending stroke causing her already sensitised clit to come into contact with his pubic bone. Already she could feel the tingling in her groin and her extremities signalling the approach of another mind-blowing orgasm. Hotch seemed to sense it, or he was getting close himself. He increased the pace, moving her faster and faster, slamming her down onto his shaft until she suddenly froze on a downwards stroke, her body going rigid as her climax crashed over her, wiping away all thought, sound and sight. Her inner muscles contracted violently around his cock and Hotch emitted a ferocious growl, throwing his head back. He shoved himself deep, jetting his release into her soft depths.
By the time they had recovered enough to lift their heads, the windows of the SUV were completely fogged up. Hotch helped her back onto her seat, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket and giving it to her. She cleaned up best she could, chuckling when a thought occurred to her. Hotch raised his eyebrows at her while he zipped up and re-buckled his belt.
"I guess I'm going to have to rethink the existence of Santa seeing that I've already received my Christmas present."
"Oh? And what was it you wanted for Christmas?" He smiled as he looked at her, the warmth in his brown eyes making her heart sing.
"I told the guys earlier that what I wanted for Christmas was to get laid." Hotch's eyebrows shot up. "But that wasn't true." She smiled at the dark haired man sitting next to her, trying to memorise every nook and cranny of his face. "This is going to sound so totally cheesy, but all I ever wanted for Christmas is you."
The smile faded from his face and he reached over to take her hand, holding it tight as his eyes looked intently into hers. "Emily, for someone who claims to have an insight into the human psyche, I've been completely blind to what's been right in front of me for so long. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I never imagined I would be lucky enough to be with someone as wonderful as you are."
Emily swallowed back the tears that had sprung up when she heard his heartfelt words. "I'm the lucky one. Because I definitely don't deserve you, Hotch."
"You know that's not true." He looked at her in silence for a moment, then shook his head, giving her a crooked smile. "How about we both just accept that we're extremely blessed to have found each other."
"I like the sound of that," she replied softly. The corners of her mouth turned up. "I guess we must have both been very, very good this year to deserve each other."
Hotch's mouth widened into a grin as he reached over and switched the temperature, blasting cold air through the vents to clear the condensation. He handed her coat to her before adjusting his seat. "Don't get me wrong, Emily, I like it when you're being good, but my fantasies involve us being very, very naughty indeed. Do you think you can handle that?"
Emily felt laughter bubble out of her and she reached up for her seat belt. "So what you're saying is that I shouldn't expect Santa to come next year?"
Hotch gave her a wicked grin and fastened his seat belt. "Trust me, you'll be coming enough as it is. You won't need Santa." With a wink, he put the SUV in gear and headed towards the exit, Emily laughing helplessly at his side.
It looked like she was going to get all she wanted for Christmas.
And then some.
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