Author's Note: Thank you so much to Muralice for reading this over for me and for giving me your input! Your suggestions have helped the flow of the story tremendously!

Also, thank you all so much for the reviews; I love reading them! This is the next to the last installment and I hope you enjoy it! - Angie

Emily Prentiss had never been so humiliated in all of her life. How in the hell had this happened? She'd wrapped both of his presents at the same time, yes, but there had been about an inch difference in the width and length of the boxes underneath. This was mind-boggling.

It hadn't been just their unit in attendance; it had been almost everyone in the building. And while they hadn't all seen the photograph, she was sure word was spreading like wildfire that she was Hotch's plaything.

"I don't think I need to remind you about what the repercussions are if a relationship between supervisor and subordinate is discovered," Erin Strauss said sternly.

Emily snapped to attention. "We're not in a relationship," she said quickly. They'd been hauled into Strauss' office immediately. "We're…it's not serious," she muttered as she shifted uncomfortably.

"While I appreciate the information, Ms. Prentiss, I was speaking to your boss," she said pointedly as she looked at Hotch.

This was not a good position for them to be in; Strauss already had it out for them. Ironically enough, it had been Emily's loyalty to Hotch that had gotten her on the woman's bad side in the first place. And while Strauss had definitely been a bit easier on him since he'd lost Haley, she still scrutinized his every move.

Hotch met her gaze intently. "I take full responsibility for my actions," he stated in his no-nonsense tone.

"That's very commendable, Aaron," she said dryly.

Strauss studied the pair astutely, playing with a pen all the while. Hotch sat there, undeterred by her obvious attempt at making them uncomfortable, instead remaining steady and strong. Emily did her best to stare straight ahead, more concerned with keeping her attention away from him.

"That picture wasn't really for Agent Hotchner, was it?" she prompted.

Emily gave Strauss a confused look. "Excuse me?" she asked.

Strauss narrowed her eyes. "The picture, Agent Prentiss. Was it for Agent Hotchner?" she repeated. It was clear that she was giving Emily an out.

"No, ma'am," Emily replied quickly.

"This was just an unfortunate mix-up," Strauss concluded.

Emily nodded in agreement, but Hotch stiffened. "No one is going to believe that," he informed them.

"If Emily tells everyone that it wasn't for you, then people will have no choice but to believe her. They can speculate as much as they'd like to, but no one will really know," Strauss insisted.

Hotch sat there, a steely look in his eyes as the muscles in his jaw began to tick.

"I'm going to share some information with the two of you that I trust you can keep to yourselves," Strauss continued.

"Yes, Ma'am," Emily agreed.

"There are going to be some changes in the Behavioral Analysis Unit after the New Year," she informed them. "As I'm sure you've noticed there is more than enough work for one team. So we've decided to expand the BAU to include two teams. We want to split the current team in two and bring in some fresh agents."

Emily waited for Hotch to say something, but he didn't.

"This makes it easier for me; obviously it would be in both your best interests to be separated. And once the team splits…you wouldn't be doing anything wrong if you were simply dating a coworker." She looked back and forth between them, a flash of warning in her eyes. "But make no mistake. Agent Hotchner…Agent Prentiss…I've got my eyes on you." She waited a moment before speaking again. "We're done here."

Emily preceded Hotch out of the office and flushed as she realized all eyes were on her. She came to an abrupt halt, causing Hotch to come to a stop behind her.

"My office. Now," he ground out, as he stepped around her and led the way with forced patience. His tone brooked no argument; she followed.

She'd just stepped through the doorway when he shut it behind her.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked immediately, her tone accusing. "They want to separate this team? We only work as well as we do because—"

He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the side of his office that didn't have a window overlooking the bullpen, then spun her around so that her back was to the wall, trapping her there with his body. "Aside from the night we first kissed, I have never brought our relationship to work," Hotch said in a low voice. His tone was almost…dangerous.

Emily could only nod wordlessly in response.

"Until now," he announced. "You'd rather she think you were a slut than dating me!" he hissed angrily. Just this morning he'd been having visions of forever dancing in his head, and she'd probably been making her damn grocery list.

Emily didn't know what to say to that because he was right. She was willing to sacrifice her moral fiber for her pride. And she'd do it again if it meant saving the reputation of her career.

"Why did you give me the picture, Emily?" Hotch demanded.

"I didn't," she told him. "Remember? According to Strauss—"

His palm slammed against the wall behind her causing the picture hanging in the center to wobble. "Why. Did you give. Me the picture?" he repeated angrily.

She looked up at him, blinking nervously. She'd never seen him like this. "I wanted you to think I was sexy," she whispered.

"I already know you're sexy," he shot back. "Why? Emily? Why did you give me the picture?" he pressed.

"I don't know," she said weakly.

"I do," he said, his tone changing to a softer one. "You gave me the picture because it was the most impersonal thing you could think of to give me."

"That's not true!" she argued. "That was a very personal gift!"

Hotch shook his head. "No, Em. It wasn't. I've had your body." He lowered his lips to hers in a tender kiss, and then he lifted his hand so that it rested on the area just over her heart. "But this is what I want."

He was right, Emily thought as she popped her frozen Lean Cuisine dinner into the microwave later that night and hit the start button. She'd given him her body dozens of times over, but she'd never really let him in. She'd never let anyone in. She'd spent her whole life running…first from her mother and then from herself…was she really going to fall into the same pattern now and run from him?