Author's Note: If you're wondering about the title, it's a line from the Rihanna song "We Found Love", whose lyrics I found strangely fitting for the plotline of this story. Anyway, thank you so much for reading - this is my 101st story, so naturally I'm a bit excited and I can't wait to hear what you think of it! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.
His second glass of whiskey in hand, Hotch let out a glum sigh as he scanned the crowd of people mingling around him. He hadn't even wanted to go to the gala in the first place; so why did he? It was the question he had been pondering for the entire night. Instead, he could have stayed home with Jack; together, they could have tossed a ball around in preparation for baseball tryouts, they could have gone out for burgers, or seen the latest action movie in theaters. Hotch could have caught up on paperwork, or even tried to catch up on much needed sleep.
But when Strauss had brought up the event and the potential to have BAU representation, not even a second of hesitation had passed before Hotch had said yes. There had been the strangest of niggling feelings as he had accepted the offer; not just in his mind, but in his heart as well. As it was his destiny to go to lavishly decorated ballroom on an otherwise bleak Saturday night. But if it was destiny, if it was some odd twist of fate, Hotch had no idea why.
That is…until he saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.
Hotch didn't know what about it caught his attention so raptly. After all, all around him were women dressed in an entire spectrum of colors. Just in one cursory glance, Hotch spotted all sorts of reds: maroon and cherry and scarlet. But then, in a flash, he saw it once more. Not just any red, but vermillion. A color that bright – and dare he say happy – brought a series of long-repressed memories to mind. In rapid succession, he saw mussed dark hair splayed across his pillow, he saw black lace pooled on his bedroom floor, he saw miles of porcelain skin spread out gloriously beneath him.
And that is when he saw her.
Hotch's heart actually stopped. "Impossible," he whispered. "It can't be."
But it was.
Unapologetically pushing his way through the throng of agents and high-powered politicians that had gathered there for the night, Hotch strode forward as if in a trance, until he was a hairsbreadth away from the woman who had never once left his dreams – despite the miles and years between them.
Struggling to control his wild heartbeat, Hotch placed a gentle hand on her bare, creamy shoulder.
"Emily."
Stunned at the moment she heard his telltale voice, Emily slowly turned on her heel...and then, their gazes met.
Immediately, a smile was stretching her beautiful lips. "Oh my God," she breathed in pleasant surprise. "Aaron."
Hotch's eyes slammed shut of their own volition at the angelic sound of his given name passing her sweet lips, those lips that he had once kissed for hours on end. "I can't believe it," he whispered joyfully, taking her hands in his. "It's really you."
If possible, Emily's smile grew as she drank him in. Age had treated him well, what with his salt and pepper hair, the fine yet endearing lines around his eyes and mouth. "It really is," she replied softly, an all too familiar twinkle in her midnight eyes. "God, how long has it been?"
"Six years," Hotch said, shaking his head. Five years, nine months, and twenty-three days. "But..." he chanced a caress of his palm against her soft cheek, "you look every bit as gorgeous as you did then, Emily."
In a heartbeat, she was in his arms, burying her face into the crook of his neck as they embraced. It was so wrong that his arms felt like home; so wrong, Emily told herself.
But she didn't let go.
"Thank you," she murmured sweetly, her gentle voice somehow loud enough to hear amongst the others around them. Pulling back slightly - only slightly - to look at Hotch fully, Emily dazzled him with yet another stunning smile. "How are you?" she gushed. "Tell me. How's...oh, how's Jack?"
Hotch actually grinned, a sight that Emily realized she had missed for so long. "I'm good," he said simply, looking deep into her eyes. "We're good. Jack is...I swear, I blink, and he's grown a foot or two without me even noticing," he chuckled.
Emily's expression softened. "I can't even imagine; he's a young man now," she said almost yearningly. "How old is he?" she asked, anxious for information. "Ten?"
"Eleven, actually," Hotch said, unconsciously rubbing his thumb along the arch of her delicate hand. "His birthday was a little over a week ago. I took him and a couple of his friends bowling, we had pizza and ice cream, he loved his presents...it was just an all-around good day."
"I'm sure it was," Emily said, remembering a time when she, Hotch, and Jack would have gone to the zoo together for little Jack's birthday; and when Jack wasn't looking, Hotch would sneak in a kiss...or two. "And he's doing well in school?"
"If by 'doing well' you mean he's in the top five percent of his grade...then yes, Jack is doing well in school." He smiled at the look of utmost happiness his words brought to her features. "We, uh...we have baseball tryouts next week, and he won't stop raving about it. In fact, I almost didn't come here tonight because I was thinking of practicing some more with him..." His voice trailed away, and then, he brought Emily's hand to his lips. "But I'm so glad I did. Speaking of which," he motioned all around them, "what are you doing here?"
Hotch's tone was light and curious, but Emily instantly felt the shame rise up within her once more. She should leave, she shouldn't be seen with him...but she couldn't leave, not when she had missed him for so long. "I'm here for...business," she said vaguely, downcasting her gaze for the tiniest of seconds. I'm sorry, Aaron.
But, looking through his rose-colored glasses, Hotch didn't notice her momentary slip-up. "Business?" he echoed, his lips curving slightly. "Oh, let me guess: you're on a top-secret mission that no one can know about," he teased playfully, squeezing her arm when she chuckled to herself. "Business, I'm sure."
"No, no...nothing like that." Emily snuck a glance around them, visibly calming when the person she was looking for was nowhere in sight. "What about you? Still working for the Bureau?" she asked, content now that the conversation had been steered away from her. "You never could get rid of the paperwork; the girls and I were convinced you had a secret penchant for it," she joked.
Again, Hotch laughed; already, he had laughed more in less than a half hour than he had for six years. "I wouldn't go so far to say that I have a paperwork penchant...especially since this is my last year at the BAU," he revealed. "It's time for a new page in life, right? Retirement...spending all my time with Jack...relaxing. Maybe I'll pull a Dave and write a book."
"I'd read it," Emily said earnestly.
"I know you would."
A brief silence lapsed between them.
Then: "How are they? The team, I mean."
Hotch gazed at her; he took in her melancholy tone, her wistful-looking eyes, her pale pink, concerned frown. "They've been well," he said, hoping his words would soothe her soul. "Dave retired last year, Reid is...he's engaged," he smiled, "JJ and Will just recently bought a new house. For Henry, mostly; he's grown up faster than anyone could have expected. Just like Jack."
"That's so good to hear," Emily said quietly, her eyes shining - with tears?
Hotch just nodded. "Garcia is still her bright, spunky, refreshing self. And Morgan...he couldn't be more ready to take over as Unit Chief. He'll keep our family together, that much I know." There was a slight pause, before Hotch spoke once more. "They all miss you." He frowned as Emily's eyes fell shut. "I've missed you."
"I know," she whispered. It was as if her voice was getting softer and softer; on some level, it worried Hotch. But before he could think it over enough times, Emily was cupping his elbow with a palm. "I've missed you, too. So much," she confessed. Before she could stop herself, the words were falling from her lips with no end in sight. "It's not just your friendship that I've missed; I miss seeing the way your face would light up as Jack scored a goal, I miss seeing you take charge in the field and bring everyone home safe, I miss seeing the compassion that would shine in your eyes as you'd talk to the young children we sometimes came across when we were on a case. And yes, I miss your friendship, and the safety I felt in your arms."
"Emily..."
Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just told him. "Ugh, I'm sorry," she moaned.
But Hotch held up a hand. "Don't be," he implored. "You've always been more eloquent than I have; if I were gifted with words, I'd tell you just how much I've missed you, too. Your smile, your laugh, the range of little looks and sighs and habits I saw you collect over the years." He cocked his head to the side curiously. "You've been in the area all this time?"
Emily shook her head sadly. "I wish. No, I...I spent some time in Europe after I left. In France, in Spain, in Italy. Trying to find myself, you know?"
He nodded his understanding. "And did you?"
"Yes; but not in Europe. I've been back in DC for just over a year now...and tonight, I think I've finally found myself. Here, in this ballroom, with all these people." With you.
Emily's words - and the unspoken ones, too - caught his heart in a vice. This time, it was he who could not stop his words from being said aloud. "I know Jack would love to see you," he said hastily. "If - if you have time, you could always come over for a visit. We could talk some more, reconnect, maybe go out for some lunch. Your favorite Chinese place - the one by my old apartment - is still open. I could give you my address -"
Emily's heart dropped to her stomach. "I can't, Aaron," she whispered sadly.
Hotch froze. "But why?" he said, mostly to himself than to anyone else. Unconsciously, he took a step forward. They were so close now...
And in a flash, all of that went away. Hotch hadn't even seen the other man approach; neither had Emily, based on the masked look of shock on her face. But, as if in deja vu, Emily felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder; a hand and a touch she knew all too well. "James," she said on a sigh, turning to face him.
James seemed to not even see Hotch where he stood. "There you are, sweetheart," he said in relief, clutching at Emily's hands; the same hands which still tingled with Hotch's touch. "I was looking everywhere for you."
Emily faltered for a second, then glanced back at Hotch, watching as realization dawned on his handsome features. He felt like an outsider peering in on a world that he was no longer welcome in. The rose-colored glasses were long gone. "Aaron," she said unsteadily, clearing her throat. "I'd like you to meet my husband, James Clarke." Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed James giving Hotch a once-over before he stuck out his hand politely. "James...I'd like you to meet Aaron Hotchner, my boss from my Bureau days." My confidant. My friend. My ex-lover.
"Nice to meet you," James said politely, offering a small smile. He was blissfully oblivious to the internal turmoil raging through Hotch's mind; and through Emily's mind as well. "Emily speaks very highly of you."
Hotch tried for a smile of his own, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Well, she's much too sweet."
"I know." James's proud smile was directed toward Emily this time, but it quickly disappeared after he remembered what he had come to tell her. "Em, honey, the babysitter just called me and said Annalise won't stop crying," he said, his voice hushed. "She doesn't think Anna has a fever or a rash or anything, but she won't stop calling out for you..."
Emily thought of Annalise; sweet baby Annalise, with her mother's dark hair and her father's hazel eyes. "Let me call her," she said worriedly, reaching into her silver clutch purse for her phone. "She was fine when we left; maybe she just needs to hear my voice. Hopefully that's it."
His mind spinning with the mental image of Emily and James and Annalise - Emily and a husband and a baby -, Hotch somehow managed to stave his jealousy and took this as his cue to leave. The gala was far from over, but as he peered over at Emily on the phone, trying to soothe her daughter with her sweet voice, he knew he had no more reason to stay. He had to get out of the suddenly stifling ballroom; he needed fresh air.
He needed an escape.
"Anna, baby, everything's okay," Emily cooed into her phone. "Mommy and Daddy are going to be home really soon, and then I promise I'll sing you to sleep, okay?" After much deliberation, the crying subsided, but one year old Annalise continued to fuss, a little whining noise seemingly caught in the back of her throat. "Anna..." She turned as she felt James's breath on the nape of her neck. "Anna, pumpkin, do you want Daddy?"
Apparently she did, because a second later, Emily was handing her phone over to James, who began murmuring sweet nothings in his deep, soothing voice. Looking up from the sequins on her clutch purse, Emily was opening her mouth to say something to Hotch...
...but he wasn't there.
Shock filling her veins, Emily craned her neck from side to side, wondering where he had gone. And then, finally, she saw him standing by the door, glancing back at her. His expression was unreadable, as it had always been. Glancing back at James and mouthing an I'll be right back, she took off after Hotch, her heart pounding as she closed the distance between them.
"I should go," was all Hotch could say when Emily caught up with him.
"Aaron, wait," she begged.
But he just smiled. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked cheerily, and for the life of her, Emily couldn't tell whether the cheer was genuine or forced. "Emily, congratulations. I'm sure Annalise is just as beautiful as her mother."
Emily held his hand tightly as he made to leave. Without a second's hesitation, she leaned forward to press the softest of soft kisses to his cheek. "I missed you," she said once more. "Talking to you tonight...it made me realize a lot of things about myself. You're right; we should reconnect sometime soon. For lunch, you said?" I'd like that a lot, she wanted to tell him. But that was forbidden. That was wrong.
Hotch gazed at her intently, then let his heart take over - just this once. "For lunch," he agreed. "That is, if you..." he glanced back at James, who was looking their way, "if you have the time."
"I'll make time," Emily vowed.
Hotch spared her one last smile; his last smile of the day. "Then it's a date."
And then, letting go of her hand, Hotch walked out the door and into the night, leaving a conflicted and tearful Emily behind him.
Author's Note: Reviews are love. Please tell me what you think! There's nothing I love more than hearing from you guys, so please don't be shy. No account needed!
