A/N: I got such phenomenal response to this story that I decided to continue it on! So this is the second chapter for you all! I want to thank SilviaBr, mummacass, nataliebianca, daniela, Holly3435, ramona, and EricDelko's3Lil'Angels - your reviews were really appreciated!

Enjoy!

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It had been a long flight already, even though they had been on board the jet for barely two hours. Emily had slipped into a fitful sleep only minutes after a relatively smooth take off, while the others sat at the tables around her. However, her much needed sleep hadn't had the chance to last much longer than half an hour. Twenty minutes into the flight, the pilot had radioed the team from the cockpit to inform them that they were headed into severe turbulence.

After hearing the news, the team quickly began to secure both themselves and their bags. Hotch thrust his laptop and case files neatly into his briefcase, leaving just his case report notes and a pen. Getting to his feet, he placed it in one of the overhead storage lockers, then reached down and grabbed Emily's bag, setting it beside his own. After closing the locker, he stooped to fix her belt around her. As he gently clicked it into place, he missed the skeptical look that flitted between JJ, Rossi and Morgan who were sitting with Reid at the table oppose. After checking she would be safe, and hopefully comfortable, he slipped back into his own seat across the table from her. It was Morgan that voiced their shared thought.

"Eh, Hotch?" Hotch blinked, suddenly aware that he had been staring at Emily since he sat down.

"What?" He mentally cringed at the unintentional defensive tone that laced his answer. Trying to act nonplussed, he continued. "She needs the rest, she's exhausted. There's no point waking her up sooner than necessary. And I would much rather I didn't have an agent with a broken nose because she fell out of her seat during turbulence." He raised an eyebrow slightly at the younger man, subtly indicating that it was not up for discussion.

The other agents said nothing as they began a game of poker. Hotch returned to writing his case report, subtly sneaking glances at Emily every few minutes. For the first time in years, Hotch could say that he was confused. It was a feeling that he really didn't like, but one that had been plaguing him for several months now. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happened, but he suspected that it had been sometime shortly after the New York case. He had found himself pairing himself with Emily more often, both on consults, and during cases. He had even caught himself looking for her, looking at her, thinking about her. And it unnerved him. It had taken him months to accept her within the BAU, and even longer before he fully included her as part of the team. In fact, if he was fully honest with himself, he wasn't sure if she was even aware that he had accepted her. In reality, it was more than just acceptance. He had come to realize that although he had had a strong team before her, she strengthened it immensely. She filled a spot that had been shockingly empty ever since the team had been formed. Not only was she fast becoming one of the top profilers within the BAU, she had been adopted as the unofficial mommy of the team. She looked out for each and every one of the group, even Rossi, and, to some extent, himself. She also told them the truth, no matter how harsh it seemed, knowing that there was no place for secrets among the family like group of agents. That was one quality that he especially admired in her, along with her unwavering loyalty. But along side that admiration he had noticed other emotions. Emotions that were not only unfitting for him as her supervisor, but also as a recent divorcé. It was also something he had not felt in an awfully long time. The lust – and that emotion was undeniable– was the part that had left him confused. Of course, he could explain it easily enough – he was sure if he asked Reid he would easily be supplied with a statistic showing that interoffice relationships where rife, especially within the FBI. It came from the long hours they spent with each other, and the fact that as a team they saw each other at their worst, as well as at their best. But still, he didn't understand it. As for the other emotions, he wouldn't even allow himself contemplate those. He knew he wanted to spend more time with her, wanted to get the same rapport with her that she had with Reid and Morgan. Yet he also knew that no matter what he wanted, that was as far as it would go. It was that that he was struggling to accept.

The first jolts from the turbulence jerked him rudely out of his thoughts, as he grabbed the edge of the table to try and stay in his seat. Looking up, he watched as Emily unconsciously curled up in her seat, making her shirt ride up slightly and exposing the lower part of her back. He couldn't help but be thankful for the next bout that hit immediately afterwards, forcing him to turn his attention to keeping himself in his seat rather than ending up splayed rather unattractively across the table. Feeling his lips curve upwards slightly at the thought, he noticed that Emily was awake and looking at him.

***

Emily lifted one eye groggily, her tired brain suddenly shooting into overdrive as it hit her that she was being shaken thoroughly. It took her only a moment to realize that the room around her was moving too, and she was blinded by a flash of panic as she struggled to force her fuzzy brain to get her bearings. Both eyes open now, she sat up stiffly, breathing a small sigh of relief as she realized where she was. It also hit her that someone had strapped her in; she knew she hadn't been strapped in when she had fallen asleep, because she had taken the belt off to stop it cutting into her side. As her eyes flitted around the plane, still insuring that everything was ok, she noticed Hotch's face transform as a rare smile slipped over it. He seemed lost in thought, so she allowed herself the luxury of watching him, admiring as his rugged face displayed this unusual show of emotion. It wasn't a luxury she indulged herself with very often, not since she realized what she really felt about him. It had become too much of a temptation, an opportunity that she couldn't take. So, she had been forced to adapt, to create a new box it her head, this one labeled 'Aaron Hotchner'. Into it had gone every sneaked longing look, every touch that left her tingling, every little moment that she stored away, keeping the details for those late nights when she couldn't sleep. She suddenly realized that he was looking at her, and she fought to keep the blush from staining her cheeks as she glanced away hurriedly.

"Are you alright?" His calm voice brought her eyes back to his, and she gave a wary smile.

"Yea, though it was a bit of a shock waking up in the middle of that! It's like James Bond says; shaken, not stirred." He laughed politely, but the minute the feeble excuse of a joke had slipped out of her mouth she could have kicked herself, hard. But, as they moved on, it had had the desired effect of clearing away some of the tension between them.

"I put your belt on before we hit the turbulence, but I didn't want to wake you." Her heart squeezed painfully at the thoughtful gesture, hating the knowledge that he was oblivious to the care it showed, and it was all she could do to struggle out a pained thanks. Turning away quickly, she saw Morgan watching her carefully from across the aisle. Purposely ignoring him, she stood up, taking a book out of her carry bag. The case file could wait. Right now, she was going to bury her head in a mindless romance novel, ride out what was shaping up to be a pretty awful plane journey and simply forget.

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I hope you enjoyed it! The little review button is calling you... :)