Written for my Hotly obsessed friend, Charlotte.

I asked her to give me some prompts for her (Belated)Christmas gift and the things I got to write about were "Fancy-Dress; Vodka and Lady Gaga."

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I do not own Criminal Minds. Or Lady Gaga.

"The Christmas spirit – love – changes hearts and lives." – Pat Boone

"Daddy when are they gonna be here?"

"Not for another four hours buddy. Why?"

"I can't find my outfit!"

Hotch sighed. "Your Spiderman outfit is in the closet where you left it."

"I don't want to wear that anymore though..." Jack pouted at his father. Ever since Hotch had agreed to host a fancy-dress party for Jack, his classmates and his team at the start of Christmas vacation, he'd had to deal with nothing but indecision and excitement. And that was just from Jack.

"Well, what to do you want to wear then?" Hotch asked his son, a small, rare smile gracing his face.

"I'm not sure...something to do with Chwistmas!"

Hotch was stunned. "What? Like an...elf or something?"

"Not an elf!"

"Okay buddy, what did you have in mind then?"

"I don't know..." Jack's bottom lip began to quiver.

Hotch smiled in spite of himself. This was going to be much harder than he thought. The profiler mentally ran through the list of things he still needed to do. Cook the food, put up the decorations, set up the sound system...

I need help he conceded. Hotch quickly considered phoning Jessica, but decided against it as he had firmly told her that she should get some rest while she could. Reid and Rossi were out of the question – the former hardly known for his decorative skills and the latter away for the week. He didn't think he could cope with Garcia's over-enthusiasm and Morgan...well, things between the two profilers weren't exactly peaceful between them yet.

That left JJ and Emily.

As much as Hotch loathed to disturb the brunette, knowing that she was probably busy with some arrangement with her Mother, he knew that JJ would definitely be busy dressing up her own son. There was no other option.

Hotch reached for his phone and dialled. It rang three times...four times...five times-

"Prentiss."

"Emily, hi, I...err...I know you were coming to the party with the team later, but-"

"Oh! I wanted to ask you something about that actually," she interrupted him. Hotch allowed this and he listened for a moment. She was breathless and talking quickly.

"Emily are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I was just...err...busy."

At those words, hearty laughter erupted in the background.

"Is someone there?" Hotch asked, disliking his idea to ask Emily for help more and more.

"I...yes. That's actually what I was going to ask about...would it be okay if I brought along a plus one tonight?" she asked carefully.

Hotch felt a sharp pang of jealousy for the man who was at Emily's home, with her, who was coming to tonight's party, with her, the man who was probably the reason she was busy-

Oh my god.

"No, that's fine," he told her, his jealously not evident in his voice. "I didn't interrupt anything did I?"

"No, no! Thanks Hotch, I...err...what was it you wanted to ask me?" she quickly asked.

"Oh, right. It's nothing. I was going to ask if you could come over early – but if you're busy, it doesn't matter-"

"Hotch wait! It's no problem, I'll be right there. Dale won't mind, I'll just leave him your address and he can come over with everyone else later," the brunette said to him.

Dale. Her friend was called Dale.

"Hotch? Are you there?"

"Yeah, sorry! Thanks...so I'll see you in...?"

"Twenty minutes, I'll be at yours in twenty minutes." He could hear the smile in her voice as she ended the call.

He placed his phone on the counter and simply glared.

Stop it! he mentally growled at himself.

True to her word, Emily rang the doorbell of the Hotchner home twenty minutes later. She smiled lightly at the muffled "Just a minute!" that came from inside. The brunette stood on the porch for a few moments before she heard the lock turn and, before she could brace herself, someone launched themselves around her knees and was hugging her tightly.

"Auntie Em!" Jack squealed.

Emily laughed. "Hi little man."

Jack glared at her in such a way that he looked just like his father. "I'm not little Aunt Emily," he told her sternly.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Where your Dad?"

"In the kitchen." Jack took Emily's hand and pulled her inside to see his father. The sight that greeted her eyes in the kitchen caused her to laugh before she could stop herself.

Hotch was wearing his griller's apron that she'd seen him wear at BBQ's, empty packets littered the counter-tops and he was currently giving a tray of miniature pizzas the 'Hotch Stare' as if he could scare them into cooking themselves.

"They're supposed to take twenty minutes...they've been in there for thirty...so why aren't they cooked?" he grumbled to himself.

Then she laughed even harder.

That laugh. Hotch longed to be the one to make her laugh like that. You're an FBI Agent. There are rules against fraternisation. Besides she most likely doesn't feel the same way and she's taken he reminded himself. Now stop it!

"You want some help with that?" Emily chortled.

"It's okay, I got it," he said bitterly. Emily simply shook her head, understanding that the bitterness was not meant for her. She continued to laugh as she grabbed the empty packets and began piling them all up in order to dump them in the trash can.

"Bit off more than you can chew, eh?" she asked him.

Hotch looked at her before answering. "I got guilt tripped into it," he admitted.

"By who?" she asked, shocked.

"At the last PTA meeting I managed to go to, someone pointed out that I was hardly here and therefore never did any events for the class or helped on trips or anything and that it was unfair on the kids..."

"That's ridiculous," Emily assured him. "This job doesn't exactly lend itself to being hosts. But you're a great father Hotch, whether you hold fancy-dress parties or not."

"Thanks Emily."

Their eyes met for a moment as small smiles graced each of their faces.

"So..." he cleared his throat. "...Dale, huh?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "He's just a friend," she said as she headed out to dump the packets in the bin outside.

"Right...Well, are you two seri-"

"Daddy?" Jack shouted.

"Yeah buddy?" Hotch called back.

"I can't find my outfit!" he informed him again as the boy entered the kitchen.

"Who are you being guy? Spiderman?" Emily asked.

"No! I want to be something Chwistmassy," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh...well what's your Dad being?"

"What?" Hotch spluttered.

"Hotch," she started seriously. "You are not telling me that you're going to host a children's fancy-dress party near Christmas and not dress up."

"Err..."

"Tell you what, I'll take Jack out for a new outfit and you can get sorted here. I'll even call Garcia so she can't bother you," she winked at him.

"Would you?" he half-pleaded.

Emily laughed. "Sure. Jack buddy, go get your coat and things. We're going to get you a new outfit for tonight, does that sound fun?"

"Yeah!" The boy excitedly ran out from the room.

"Jack," Hotch called. "What do you say to Emily?"

"Thank-you Aunty Em!" came the call from the hallway.

The two profilers laughed. "Thanks," Hotch told her gratefully.

"It's not a problem." She took out her and quickly sent her a text.

Meet me at the mall in 30 mins. Usual place, I'll buy coffee. FANCY DRESS HELP NEEDED.

"Your fancy dress oracle has arrived!"

"Coffee?" Emily smiled, holding Garcia's cup in her hand.

"Thank-you, so where do we start? I've got some fabulous ideas planned-"

"Aunt Pen!" The blonde was cut off by a small hug.

"Hi Jack sweetie," Garcia smiled widely.

"Are you gonna help me pick a costume?" he asked her, eyes wide and pleading.

"Yep. Do you wanna go look now?" the blonde asked him.

"Yeah!"

The two women followed Jack into the store and looked on fondly as he attempted to decide which outfit he wanted. Garcia snuck a glance at the brunette and couldn't help but smile a knowing smile at the expression on her face. Sensing being watched, Emily glanced at her friend.

"What?"

"So how come you've got Jack?" the bubbly blonde said. Emily did not miss the suggestive tone in her voice.

"Hotch asked me to help keep him occupied whilst he prepared for this party tonight..."

"Right..." Garcia winked. Emily rolled her eyes. "So who are you going as?"

Emily paled. "I...err...I haven't decided yet..."

Garcia glared at her. "Emily Prentiss you are wearing an outfit to tonight's fancy dress party."

"But-"

"No buts!"

"Penelope-"

"Emily. You are wearing something or so help me I will send that High School picture of you to every system in the Bureau," Garcia threatened.

The profiler froze. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," the blonde replied sternly.

"Dammit!"

After dropping Jack off back home with his new outfit (which Garcia had tried to buy, but the brunette beat her to it), Emily drove back to her apartment. The profiler had unsuccessfully tried to slip away before she had buy herself an outfit, but Garcia had made a pre-emptive strike and purchased two outfits, wrapped them in a bag and told her under no circumstances was she to turn up in neither one of them.

Which is why, after greeting Dale, she was stood gawking at the unwrapped clothes that she laid out on her bed in shock.

"Oh my god."

Emily quickly pulled out her phone and punched in the number.

"You have reached the lair of Supreme Christmas, free candy canes are only available if you're Derek Morgan, how may I help you?"

"Garcia! I can not wear either of these!" the brunette spluttered.

"You can and you will my pretty," Garcia told her in a sing-song voice. "Now get your butt into one of them and go and impress your man!"

"Garcia!"

"Who are you yelling at?" Dale chuckled behind her.

With a sigh, the profiler ended the call and turned to face him. "Penelope," she grumbled, eying the outfits miserably.

Dale passed her to look at the clothes laid out on her bed. She watched as a huge grin spread across his face and it wasn't long before he collapsed against the door roaring with laughter.

Emily glared at him. "It is not funny!"

"Oh it is!" he choked through the tears streaming down his face. He nudged her with his elbow and pointed. "You are definitely wearing that one."

The first thing the profiler registered when she got to the Hotchner's front door was how cold she was. The second thing was the childish screaming and yelling coming from behind the door. Herself and Dale had been running late due to trying to sort their outfits and it had got to the point where Garcia had called threatening to drag them both round in whatever state of dress they were in.

Emily stood uncomfortably in her clothing, desperately willing someone to open the door and let her in soon. Dale draped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug.

"Lighten up! This is going to be fun!" he told her.

She scoffed. "For you maybe."

"Cheer up!" He quickly kissed her on the cheek. "You look great by the way."

The brunette glared at him, but once she registered his outfit, she couldn't help but smile. "So do you."

No sooner had they finished laughing at each other, the door swung open.

Hotch had to scrape his jaw up from the floor at the sight that greeted him.

Emily was dressed in a short, red dress with white fluff around the edges, black knee length boots and a matching Santa hat.

After recovering from his initial shock, he quickly glanced at her companion. The man was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and his black hair was brushed forward in a style that was messy, but that he was sure he'd seen as a style before.

"Emily...err...you look great," Hotch forced out.

She glared at him. "This is Garcia's fault..."

"Oh come on you look great!" Dale told her. He stuck out his hand towards Hotch. "Jo Calderone, at your service."

"I...pleasure to meet you," Hotch replied, shaking the offered hand. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Dale, stop messing around. Hotch, this is Dale. Since Garcia got me in this Mrs Claus outfit, then he insisted on Lady Gaga's male alter-ego," she explained.

"Ahh! Well, come on in!" As Hotch stepped aside, Emily got a better look at her Unit Chief. He was dressed in a Christmas jumper, reindeers embroidered across the chest and a Santa hat on his head.

"Garcia got to you too?" Emily mused.

Hotch let out a small laugh. "Yes, she did."

He led the two into the living room and let them introduce themselves to those they didn't know and let Emily introduce Dale to the people he didn't know. Hotch forced himself to not let his jealousy show, but he found it terribly difficult not to scowl behind Dale's back as he lazily draped an arm around Emily's shoulders.

"You know, you keep staring like that and he just might burst into flames," a voice told him from behind.

Hotch glanced at the person who'd spoken. "When did you get here? I thought you were in Boston this weekend?"

"I came back early, couldn't miss this for the world. And don't try to change the subject, you've got the hots for Agent Prentiss over there," Rossi bluntly told him. "And that you don't like the fact it's not your arm around her shoulders."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hotch replied.

"Alright, alright. I've only been a profiler for what feels like forever. I know you better than you know yourself sometimes." With that, Rossi downed the last of his drink and left Hotch in the doorway.

A few hours and many tired kids later, all that remained in the house was the team, along with Will, Kevin, Jack and Henry. The two boys were currently sleeping in Jack's room, the evening completely wearing them out.

For the remaining adults however, things were only getting started. Garcia had managed to find a karaoke game and had somehow roped everyone into having a turn. The blonde had tried her hardest to get Emily to duet with Dale to Lady Gaga's Paparazzi in order to "make full use of Dale in his outfit", but the brunette had managed to escape into the kitchen, leaving Dale to sing it solo. She knew that he wouldn't mind though, the man was in his element.

We are the crowd

We're co-coming out

Got my flash on, it's true

Need that picture of you

"So...you escaped for a few minutes then?" Hotch asked her. Emily laughed as she made her way to the counter for another drink.

"Just until the end of this song, then I think Dale and Garcia are going to tag team me for this damned karaoke thing," she replied, glancing warily at the door.

Hotch chuckled, carrying on with washing the dishes. The two stood there for a few moments, both occasionally sniggering at the sound of Dale's voice in the next room.

It's so magical

We'd be so fantastical

Leather and jeans

Garage glamorous

Not sure what it means

But this photo of us

"So..err...you and Dale..." Hotch started.

"What about me and Dale?" Emily asked, confused.

"Is it serious?" he asked a little awkwardly.

Emily choked on the mouthful of vodka she'd been drinking. Hotch ran over and began slapping her back as she coughed. After she caught her breath, the brunette burst out laughing, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I don't have a price

Ready for those flashing lights

'Cause you know that, baby, I

"What's so funny?" Hotch frowned.

"It's just...ha...you thought that...Hotch...Dale's gay!" Emily forced out through her laughter.

The older profiler felt his cheeks burn, but he quickly pushed his embarrassment aside as he realised that Emily was still single. The elation that filled him was a welcome change from the misery and jealousy he'd been harbouring all afternoon.

"I've known him since I lived in Ukraine with my Mom's postings. He's great, but...just...not going to happen..." she continued to explain.

"My apologies," he said, beginning to walk away.

"Don't worry about it..." Emily told him. "Why'd you want to know anyway? You jealous?" It was said in a joking tone, but the shocked look on his face told her she'd hit a nerve. "You were?"

"I..." Hotch didn't answer.

Emily was speechless. Hotch was jealous over the idea that she was dating Dale? Did this mean-

The profiler didn't even finish her thoughts before soft lips crashed into her own. She froze and Hotch began to panic and think that he'd done the wrong thing before she was kissing him back. He was stood in his kitchen. Kissing Emily. Someone who he was willing to try to let his feelings of guilt and sadness for Haley go in order to have a life with. To hell with the fraternisation rules. In this moment all that mattered was that he was kissing her and her gentle lips were caressing his.

I'm your biggest fan

I'll follow you until you love me

Papa-paparazzi

"Awwwww!"

The two jumped apart at the cry to see Dale, Garcia and JJ stood in the doorway, the latter holding up a camera.

"I knew my idea would work!" Garcia squealed, pointing to the mistletoe above their heads.

"I didn't even know that was there," Hotch whispered into Emily's ear.

"So are you two..." JJ trailed off, shooting Emily a knowing wink as the older woman blushed and tried to hide behind her hair.

"Well, are we?" Hotch asked her with a charming smile.

Emily laughed. "Well, I guess we are."

"Come on you two! We have another disk with karaoke songs on it! I'm sure I have a Christmas one somewhere; you two lovebirds can sing together!" Garcia gasped, seizing Hotch by the arm and pulling him with her. "Dale, you can get Emily in here can't you?"

"Of course I can Penelope," he winked at her. Emily watched as his gaze followed the two blondes and Hotch out of the room. "Damn Emily..." he said.

"What?"

"I was this close to trying to get that nice piece of FBI Agent to explore a little," he explained in a whiny voice.

"You have got to be kidding me," Emily deadpanned.

The two stared at each-other for a few moments before they both grinned familiar smiles at each other. Dale walked over and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm happy for you," he whispered in her ear. "I know you thought you didn't have a chance, but, for once, I won't tell you I told you so."

"Thank-you," she breathed back.

When they pulled away, Dale flashed her a toothy grin. "Now come on Mrs Claus, there's a mighty fine piece of FBI ass waiting for you in there..."

"Dale..." she warned.

"...and if you don't hurry up, I think I might try and grab that FBI ass for myself!" No sooner had he finished his sentence, he sprinted from the room before the brunette could compose an answer.

"Dale!"

"Christmas is the time to let your heart do the thinking." – Patricia Clafford

My first Hotly ever. Wow...This is weird. And new. Ah well.

Reviews/feedback are greatly appreciated!

xx