Walking up behind the beautiful woman who had agreed to marry him, Hotch watched her dark hair blow back in the ocean breeze. He could only see her lashes, lips and the tip of her nose as she turned to look at the palm trees off in the distance. She was beautiful.
He took his hands from his pockets and slowly made his way up behind her.
"Hi."
The older man smiled, his hands landing on her shoulders as he pressed his body lightly against hers. "Hi," he said back, pressing a kiss to her smiling cheeks. "Do you realize how beautiful you look right now?"
Emily let her husband move the hair from her neck and set his chin on her shoulder. "I'm sure I do, but you can always tell me that." She felt him lean into her as she looked out to the calm ocean their bungalow sat atop. "Isn't it beautiful here?"
"Not as beautiful as you."
The FBI agent laughed, leaning back into the dark haired man as she watched the sun settle underneath the horizon. "Alright sweet talker," she snorted, turning her head just enough to let him kiss her. "Thank you so much for this." She smiled as her eyes met his. After their wedding, Hotch had immediately gotten her on a plane and flew them to their honeymoon destination.
He had planned everything himself, wanting to surprise the younger woman.
"I knew you'd love it," he smiled back. "You always talked about Bora Bora when we spoke about possible vacations. I looked it up right after we first spoke about it."
Emily spun around in her husband's arms, leaning back against their bungalow's railing and letting his arms wrap around her waist. "I love it here." She stoo on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you want to go for another swim?"
"At night?" Hotch made a face. "A little dangerous."
"Is Mr. Hotchner a little scared?"
The taunt had Hotch spinning the younger woman around. "Of course he is, Mrs. Hotchner," he laughed, hearing her hide her snort in the crook of his neck. "Instead of swimming in the dark water where, I don't know, sharks and stingrays are searching for their dinners, why don't we do something else?"
Emily nodded her head, letting him take one of her hands. "Like?"
"Like, how about I dance with my new wife?"
The brunette let him kiss her once more before she settled her cheek against his shoulder. She felt the breeze cool down as it blew and moved the sarong that she had put on to cover her bikini clad body. Her hand clamped around the older man's, his thumb rubbing gently against her skin.
Hotch pressed a kiss against the brunette's hair. "Em?"
"Mmhmm?"
The FBI agent moved his other hand to the small of his wife's back. "I love you."
Emily brought her head up to smile up to the older man. "I love you too," she whispered, hearing the small waves land on the shore yards away.
"I'm sorry I don't have any music for us to dance to," he said regretfully. Their cell service was minimum, but they were trying their best not to use them during their romantic vacation.
The new Mrs. Hotchner frowned. "Don't you hear that?" She waited until the recognition showed on his face. The waves were bobbing underneath their bungalow's floorboards, the birds flying above them and the shore of the beach echoing around them. "That's our music," she smiled.
Hotch shared another kiss with the beautiful woman.
"At least our music isn't Jack's crying," she joked. The little boy had just turned three and he was scared of the dark. Every night when they would put the sandy haired boy to bed, he would scream and cry until someone came in and rocked him to sleep.
The brown eyed man laughed at the younger woman, his eyes glued on the small hairs flying from her forehead. "And we get four more days."
Emily nodded. "Four more days of our music."
Her head fell back to the strong shoulder of the older man, feeling his wedding ring against the skin of her back as they slowly danced on the deck of their bungalow.
"What do you want to do tomorrow?"
The ambassador's daughter considered her options. "Scuba diving?"
Hotch grinned. "I was thinking about parasailing."
The brown eyed woman playfully glared up to her husband, squeezing his hand when he stuck his tongue out at her. "Are we going to fight for it?"
"How about flip for it?"
Emily let out a scream when the muscular man threw her over his shoulder. "Aaron!" she cackled, her hands slapping at his back. "Let me down!"
Hotch playfully slapped his wife's ass and carried her back inside their bungalow, his eyes on the bed. "Nope," the agent laughed back, his wedding ring sliding on his finger as his hand gripped the sarong she wore. "We're flipping for it."