Author's Note: I desperately needed some Hotch/Emily fluff, given the knowledge that the season finale is this Wednesday. Writing this little piece really did cheer me up, and I can only hope you all will feel the same way. Enjoy! And as always, thank you for reading. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

"What about this one?"

Hotch had to physically restrain himself from pulling Emily into his arms and taking her right there, right against the dressing room wall, as she paraded in front of him in nothing but a deep purple bikini. Really, he'd have thought he'd be used to it by now; they'd been at this for at least half an hour, but every time she slipped into a new color and a new style, Hotch felt the basest of desires rising within him once more.

He cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing at Emily's coy little smirk. The minx. "I like it," he said, his voice husky and sex-starved. "But that's no surprise, is it?"

"No, it's not." Emily pouted, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Aaron, I'm never going to be able to choose one if you keep telling me you like all of them," she pointed out.

"But I do like all of them," Hotch countered. "This is what happens when you look gorgeous in practically everything," he chastised playfully. And nothing, he wanted to add, as he watched her strip the purple bikini off of her frame, leaving her in only her panties. Black lace panties that just screamed for him to reach forth and rip them off her body -

"At least tell me you have a favorite out of the ones I've tried on so far," she practically pleaded. Rolling her eyes as she saw where his gaze was centered, she crossed her arms over her chest, holding back her laugh. "Please, honey."

Dejected, Hotch craned his neck upward for a quick kiss, then pulled back to look at the selections that were hanging all around the small cubicle they were in. "Hmmm...I know I really liked that red one over there. But you told me you already had a red one back at home -"

"- which I do." Emily fished through the others she had brought into the dressing room with her. "Any other favorites?"

"The black one," he said immediately, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress an almost feral growl. It had been the first one she'd tried on, and when he had seen just how well it had hugged her curves...

Blood rushed to a specific place in his body. "Definitely the black one," Hotch repeated.

Her low, amused laughter met his ears and only heightened his desire for her. "I still have two more to try on, so let's not get too ahead of ourselves," she said, her voice holding that inherently seductive quality that never failed to drive him over the edge. "But I'd have to agree; I do like the black one myself."

Leaning back against the far wall of the dressing room, Hotch's eyes dropped closed as he listened to Emily rummaging around the small space. Even without looking, he heard the telltale clank of a plastic hanger as she took another bikini off the rack. What color this time? he mused curiously, briefly peeking through downcast eyelids to assuage his curiosity. Mmmm. White. This'll be good.

"So, tell me," Hotch said after a beat, as a certain something popped into his mind, "you come to me for fashion advice, we go shopping together, and I'm privy to your private little fashion shows, such as this one. What does that make me, your gay best friend?"

Silence lapsed between them for a good long minute before Emily burst into unsuspecting laughter. "Someone's been hanging out with Garcia a little too much," she teased, running her fingers through his hair lovingly. "But no..." She leaned a little closer to him, giving him an eyeful of generous cleavage. "I wouldn't necessarily call you gay; not in the slightest. Though you do have a point," she said indulgently. "Ladies' GBFs don't exactly have to be gay."

Their gazes met, Hotch's dark eyes shining with mirth. "Really? How do you know I haven't been having an illicit office affair with Anderson these past few years? I'm a pretty good profiler, if I do say so myself; I know how to hide these sorts of things."

Emily was practically crying, she was laughing so hard. "Oh my God, let's not even go there," she said breathlessly. "Besides...if you were gay, I'd always imagined you'd choose Dave, not Anderson."

"Dave?" Hotch's eyes were wide now; he practically choked on his tongue. "Emily, what?"

"Yes, Dave. I mean, considering you'd stay with someone we work with, I can't really see you with Morgan, since you're both alpha males and that wouldn't exactly work out so well; and I mean, I just can't see you with Reid. Anderson was never in the picture to begin with, at least, not in my head. So, naturally, that left Dave. And you two are really good friends...how am I supposed to know what kind of things you two engaged in before I joined the Bureau? Nobody ever said Dave's Lothario name was confined solely to his experiences with women," Emily pointed out, her cheeks flushed with laughter.

"I'm not even going to address any of those questions," Hotch said, shaking his head amusedly. "In fact, I'm just going to ignore the fact that this conversation ever happened."

"Hey, you're the one who brought it up."

"Yes, but...just how often do you think about things like this?" he asked incredulously, his face lit up with a strange mixture of intrigue and shock.

"Now that is for me to know, and you to find out," she answered cryptically, shooting him a beautiful wink. "Oh, and another reason I find it hard to believe you're gay," she took the shell of his ear between her teeth, her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there, "our love-making is too good, and you enjoy it way too much," she said in a breathy whisper. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He groaned as she moved away from him, trying on the final bikini of the afternoon. The white one fell to the floor. "I definitely agree."

Emily smiled smugly. "I thought so." Humming contentedly to herself as she tied the string at the small of her back, she turned back around to face him. "So? What do you think?"

Hotch got to his feet and wrapped his arms snugly around Emily's bare waist. "I think...that this is my favorite I've seen the entire day. It's classic, babe," he said, fisting a hand in the yellow polka dotted material. A beat passed. "And, I also think that it's time for us to go home." His suggestive words travelled all the way down to her core. "Wouldn't you agree?" he tacked on, echoing her words from earlier.

"Hmmm. How do I know you're not just saying this one's your favorite so we can get on with the day?" Emily asked knowingly. "At this point, I'm convinced I could buy the most unattractive swimsuit Speedo has to offer, and you'd still say it's your favorite."

He shrugged, an innocent expression gracing his handsome features. "Hey, I'm just saying; even that would turn me on. You're you, sweetheart, and you're sexy." He intertwined their fingers. "Now let's go home," he repeated persistently.

Emily just laughed. Teasing him was her favorite pastime; and oh, did he know it. "I think you're being awfully impatient," she said, shaking her head chidingly. "You're lucky I even let you tag along, Mister," she teased, pressing a hard kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe I want us to get home so you can put on a different kind of show for me," Hotch said unashamedly. There was just something about her that made him feel like an entirely different person; or maybe it was just that she brought out the best in him.

"My fiancé's a pervert," Emily murmured under her breath, just loudly enough for him to hear. "Great." Nevertheless, she glanced at her reflection in the full length mirror, and nodding to herself, she took the yellow and white bikini and placed it aside to buy. The next time he'd see it on her would be in Italy; on their honeymoon.

Hotch grinned a grin of glorious victory. "I may be a pervert. But you love me," he teased.

"Of course I do. When you pay for almost all of my clothes, how couldn't I?"

Hotch's grin was gone in but a second. "Wait, what?"

"I love you, Aaron," Emily smiled, looping her arm through his.

Sighing with feigned reluctance, he pulled out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, murmuring to himself all the while. "I really should have seen this coming."

Author's Note: Reviews are love! Please spare me a minute to tell me a minute to tell me what you think; your feedback is the best inspiration and motivation for me. Thanks in advance!