A/N: This is my first story and I am somewhere between excitement and panic. The story takes place in Season Three, episode "In name and blood", when Hotch comes to Prentiss' apartment. However the scene develops a little differently. Rewatching some episodes of the earlier seasons reminded me of the chemistry these two characters had right from the start and I had to get this one out of my head. No infringement intended. Everything belongs to CBS. This is just for fun. Reviews are appreciated. English is not my first language, but I hope my spell check got rid of the worst mistakes.
His world is upside down. Gideon, his colleague and friend, is gone and after the last argument he had with his wife, Hayley, she probably will be gone soon too. And so will be his son, Jack, the person he cares most about in the whole world. Let alone Strauss, who is searching for any dirt on him she can possibly get. When he looked into the mirror this morning he almost expected to see only a blank surface. It feels as if he slowly vanishes bit by bit.
For most people he is the strong leader who never loses his temper and has endless amounts of inner calm. The truth is that currently he almost can't suppress the urge to run and leave it all behind.
Of course the argument with Hayley was about his job. He needs to be with his team. Just one more case to solve, one more human monster to catch and then he will slow down and take a 9 to 5 job, be home every evening, spend more time with his family. Just one more case… It took no profiler to recognize the lie.
He had planned to drive directly to the airport, but instead he finds himself outside of her apartment.
"Hotch!" She is surprised. Obviously she had expected him to accept her resignation without further questions. Oh yes, her resignation - as if the other blows hadn't been enough. She also had left him.
Before Emily Prentiss joined the BAU it had never been an option - combining the job with his private life. Women are still rare in the hostile surroundings of profiling serial killers. He had met some bright minds, but never one to be interested in as a man as well. Then she came and changed everything. Perhaps it never would have happened, if he hadn't been so critical with her at the beginning. He distrusted her, watched her every move and forced her by this to practically make it her purpose in life to prove him wrong. Suffice to say that she succeeded eventually. To quit her job, because she didn't want to spy on him - what greater proof could there be for her loyalty and integrity. Funny that it doesn't matter anymore. He already has fallen for her.
He knows her smile, how she moves, how she pulls a gun, what she looks like when she is completely exhausted after several days without sleep, because serial killers don't work 9 to 5. It would be too easy to make it her fault as the temptation dangling right in front of his nose. She did nothing to cross the line, always the professional colleague. He is a faithful man and would never betray his wife, but he feels his marriage slipping away and sometimes he allows his imagination to take him to another place. A place where there are no private obligations and where he is free to start all over again. Somehow she has become an option in his life.
"Can I come in?" She steps aside and lets him in. Her apartment is a mixture of clear style and cozy home. In the background he hears soft music. Even if he has never been here before, he instantly feels comfortable. Nonetheless the situation is anything but pleasant. He doesn't ask for a seat and she doesn't offer one. They face each other in a stand-off.
"If you quit I am going to ask for a transfer." The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. It's as close to a confession as he will get. She looks taken aback and searches his face for any hint what he really means. He won't let her see it. What he tells her is what he knows about Strauss' offer and the reasons why she quit. What he doesn't tell her are his reasons why he wants her to stay.
She listens quietly and then makes a few steps away from him towards a huge window that looks out on the city skyline. Night has fallen and the lights dance in the dark. She looks outside and he positions himself behind her so that he can see her face as a reflection in the glass. Unlike him she is not able to hide her emotions entirely and it is not difficult to figure out that she as well weighs her options.
He can't tell what he means to her. Whether he really is just the colleague and superior she wants to impress or whether there could be more between them than just a professional friendship. She stands very close to him. He can smell her perfume. One step forward and their bodies would touch. When they are in the field there are plenty situations to accidentally make contact or to breathe in her warm softness. He can't tell whether she is aware of it, maybe even forces it, enjoys it, or not. Standing here in her apartment, just the two of them, is totally different though. Chance and threat at the same time.
"Why are you really here?" Her voice is barely above a whisper. Too late he realizes that he has come too close and that she caught him shutting his eyes while inhaling her sweet scent. All his precious facade torn apart in the blink of an eye. She isn't a profiler for nothing.
This time he closes his eyes on purpose. "Emily…" His voice is strained, the voice of a man who has nothing to lose and yet everything to gain. He struggles for the right words, wants desperately to tell her everything, but can't, no, not when he is still married. Some vows are not meant to be broken. But she understands anyway - his broken voice the final proof. She leans back carefully until her back meets his chest. His face is half buried in her hair, the scent almost overwhelming, the accidental nearness in the field nothing compared to this. His hands go up and brush her elbows, then rest on her hips. The hiss that leaves her mouth makes him open his eyes again. Her lips are slightly open, her hips pressed against him and he feels his body respond. He meets her intense gaze in the glass of the window and she lets him see everything - her longing and her fear. For her this must be harder than standing naked right in front of him. There are no questions anymore. They both want the same. It would be so easy to turn her around and… She steps away from him.
"You're married." She has turned around, but it is not the physical encounter he imagined. Nothing better to destroy an elevated mood than realism.
Before he can think of an appropriate reply she walks away from him.
"I can't do anything about your marital status." She states the obvious. "But I can do something about my employment." Within reach of a few steps there is her bag, packed and ready. She grabs it and heads to the door, knowing that he will follow. There is a case waiting for them.
His world still is upside down, but somehow in a good way. There is always another option.