Truthfully, Emily was a snob.

She had tried to avoid all stereotypical behavior that would be expected of someone who grew up in an extremely privileged household. Emily hated the extra attention, and in reality it made her feel guilty for having so much when there were so many people more deserving of her wealth who had nothing.

But one thing she allowed herself to be a snob about was being driven around.

Maybe in hindsight her dislike of being chauffeured made her the exact opposite of a snob, but with each passing moment that Hotch refused to pass someone who was going incredibly slow in the left lane (for god's sake), or how he hadn't changed the radio station from the deafening yodeling of some western singer, she was definitely feeling an attitude coming on.

"For someone who is incredibly good at hiding their emotions, you are so easy to read when you're annoyed."

Emily lifted her head from where she had been resting her chin in her hands, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You haven't stopped digging your nails into your jeans since this song came on, you're grinding your teeth, and you've sighed about every five minutes. Plus, the eye rolling gives you away pretty easily."

She scoffed. "What happened to not profiling team members?"

He replied with a smirk. "Like I said, you were making it too easy."

"I don't roll my eyes."

"Yes you do. I don't even think you're aware when you do it, but sometimes when we're on cases and one of the LEOs says something you don't hold back."

Emily felt her cheeks flush. "Oh my god, why didn't you ever tell me! I'm a horrible person."

"No, just a little impatient." He smiled, pulling his eyes off the road and settling them on her once they reached a stoplight.

Emily had been slightly surprised when he had pulled up to her apartment complex earlier. For some reason, she had expected Hotch to be dressed in his usual suit and tie (even though she knew that was illogical, Hotch wore real clothes too) and seeing him in a simple polo shirt and khakis had thrown her off, almost like when she was little and would see one of her teachers somewhere in public. Even his dark hair; which was normally gelled to perfection, was ruffled and unruly. She couldn't really pass judgment, though, considering it was probably equally as weird for Hotch to see her with minimal makeup and her natural curls.

Sure, it was weird, but it made her feel like she was with a friend as opposed to someone who could technically fire her on a whim.

"You ready?" He asked in a gentle voice. They were one stoplight away from the parking deck of the airport, and Emily had to admit she was feeling some butterflies and jitters deep in her stomach, but admittedly half of them were coming from the fact that she was still self-conscious around Hotch when they were alone together. Despite the fact that they weren't on the job yet, she felt the need to impress him with everything.

She had good ol' mom to thank for that trait.

Speaking of her mother, she hadn't exactly had the best parting conversation with the Ambassador. Considering her father had been killed during combat in Vietnam (right near the tail end of the war; if he had lasted another month he would still be at home with his family), her mother hadn't been keen on sending her only daughter into a war-zone. For once, Emily understood where her mother's worry was coming from, but she wasn't her father, and as much as she missed him, she knew he'd want her to do this, and be smart about it.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah."

Emily paused, wondering if she should even ask about Jack. She was aware that Haley had custody over the boy, and Hotch rarely saw his son thanks to the job and the split, so she wasn't even entirely sure her boss had seen his son before departing earlier today.

"How did Jack take it?"

Well, she was never one for beating around the bush she supposed.

Hotch chuckled, and Emily knew she had made the right move by asking.

"He reacted about the same way Morgan did yesterday when we told the team."

Emily bit her lip masking a smile. After she, Strauss, and Hotch had alerted the BAU of what was going on, Derek had basically cornered them in the conference room and made them promise that there would be no heroic sacrifices and no brave displays of loyalty that could ultimately result in death. He was exaggerating, of course, but Emily had to admit out of anyone on the team (besides Derek himself), the two most likely to do something stupidly heroic went to her and Hotch.

"I'll miss them." She said absent-mindedly, watching the trees blur together and spin above the sunroof as Hotch took a sharp turn into the entrance of the airport parking lots. She hadn't really allowed herself to be upset about leaving the BAU for such an indefinite period of time, but thinking back to her emotional goodbyes with JJ and Garcia last night over half-priced margaritas was starting to choke her up. It wasn't the fact that she wouldn't be working with them for a while, it was the possibility that she wouldn't see them for months on end, and things could be completely different by the time she got back.

Not to mention that both this assignment and all the BAU cases were highly dangerous, so everyone was constantly at risk.

"I know, me too."

The spot that Hotch found to park in wasn't too far, but far enough that Emily could enjoy the fresh air before being stuck in a stuffy plane for 13 hours before they even got to their first connection. She was already dreading the crying children and the snoring that was bound to be loud during a red eye flight.

Hotch closed the driver-side door and popped the trunk, unloading all of Emily's bags much to her irritation.

"Remember how you said you can tell when I'm annoyed."

He snorted lightheartedly. "A thank you would be sufficient, Prentiss."

She over-dramatically rolled her eyes before slinging her bags over her shoulder and gripping the handle of her remaining rolling suitcase. This was really happening, it was really time for them to go.

Hotch let her walk in front, trailing behind to lock the car and take one longing glance back at the road that lead them here before picking up his bags and following Emily towards the entrance of the building complex.

...

It was pretty crowded for a Monday. Men in charcoal suits and suede shoes seemed to dominate the premise, with the occasional casual shirt or pencil skirt thrown into the mix. Hotch went over the details of their flight in his head while trailing Emily, who had started to slow her pace for Hotch to catch up.

They had some time to kill since they had checked their baggage and made sure they knew where their gate was after suffering in the security line for so long. He was hungry, and he could tell by the way Emily was chewing on the inside of her cheek that she was trying to distract herself from her own hunger.

"Prentiss, wanna grab a bite before we have to take off? I don't know what kind of food they'll have on the flight."

"Yes!" She practically cut him off, her sleepy eyes suddenly wide awake. "I didn't want to ask first but please."

Hotch shook his head. Emily was confusing for him. She was so stern and had a glare that could turn the most threatening men to stone, but she was so skittish and insecure about other things; for example telling him that she was hungry. He knew it stemmed from something deeper, and considering he knew her mother it was understandable, but he was hoping this mission would at least soften some things between himself and her.

"Cafe?" He replied, scanning the surrounding area. They had passed a small coffee shop before their gate, and knowing Emily she would be down for basically anything.

She just nodded and practically took off towards the direction of the store, Hotch hot on her heels.

The restaurant was simple, but as soon as they stepped into it, Hotch was welcomed with the captivating scent of freshly brewed coffee and hardy sandwiches that only made his stomach growl louder. Plus, it was almost completely empty, which was a great addition considering Hotch was not up for dealing with the mass of humanity more than he needed to today.

"Good choice." Emily said, walking over to the counter to survey the menu. As he followed her, he accidentally bumped her side while reading the options. Emily didn't seem to notice, and if she did she didn't think anything of it, but Hotch had to resist from drawing back like he had just touched fire. He didn't know what the hell was his problem lately, but whenever he even came close to having physical contact with Prentiss, he would begin to notice everything about her, like the way she ran her fingers through her tangled hair or the way that her shirt was bunched up around her waist right now, revealing the slightest strip of creamy skin, contrasting against her low-rise jeans.

And once he realized he was looking down at her hips, he decided that it would be in his best interest to stop.

"What can I get you?" A voice drew Hotch away from his thoughts and back to reality, where a younger man was standing behind the counter, his eyes focused on Emily, who was still surveying the menu.

"Hmm...can I just get the Italian sub and a soft drink?" She finally replied. Hotch wasn't surprised. She and Morgan often quarreled over who got the remainder of Rossi's sub that he brought for lunch almost everyday and never finished, and Emily almost always won.

"You most certainly can."

Hotch didn't miss the inflection in the man's voice when he talked to Emily. There were some things that Hotch had picked up ever since he had become a profiler, and one of them was the ability to tell when a man was interested in a woman just by the way he started talking, and this man's voice was dripping with the intention of something a bit heavier than just flirting.

"Can I have a name for your order?" He asked.

"Emily."

He nodded and grinned, and Hotch waited for the inevitable pass that was going to be coming from him any moment.

"A pretty name for a pretty lady."

There it was.

Emily's eyebrow went up and she smiled, but along with the fact that he was keen on knowing when a man was trying to flirt, Hotch also knew when a woman wasn't interested. And Emily really just wanted her sandwich.

He almost felt bad for the guy.

"So, you going on vacation?" He didn't give up though.

Emily sighed. "Sorta."

"Somewhere warm? You seem like a beach girl."

"Why is that?" Emily asked, and Hotch tried to conceal a chuckle. Yeah, now he felt bad for the guy.

"Uhh..." The man almost blushed and guffawed, obviously caught off guard by Emily's bluntness. He finally settled on making a hand gesture towards her figure, and Emily smiled and shook her head.

"That's what I thought." She took a plastic cup from the counter and began to move away from her spot. "Sorry, I don't like the beach."

The employee was recovering from his wildly blushing face when he finally turned to Hotch.

"And for you, sir?"

Hotch turned his full attention back to the man behind the counter, who seemed to be trying his hardest to see if Emily was with Hotch or not (somehow he wasn't completely discouraged). Hotch resisted the urge to pull an Emily and roll his eyes. She would be furious if she knew that the employee was trying to size up Hotch as competition after what she had said, especially since she seemed completely disinterested in what was going on at the moment.

"I'll have the same thing she's having." Hotch tilted his head towards Emily, who responded with a good natured eye roll (shocker).

"Can't think for yourself, Hotch?" She smirked, filling her cup to the brim with cola.

"Apparently not."

Her devilish smirk transformed into a small grin and the man behind the counter finally got the idea. Once their sandwiches were ready (which was quick after the flirting ceased), they were able to escape the restaurant without any more pick-up line fiascoes and the two profilers headed towards their gate.

"So, Hotch, you going on vacation?" Emily teased, her voice muffled from the bite of sub she still had in her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm totally a beach girl if thats what you're asking and I can really rock a two-piece."

She laughed; a genuine one, a laugh that Hotch had seldom heard from Emily, covering her mouth with the back of her hand that wasn't clutching her sub and closing her eyes almost completely. He wasn't really sure why he was bantering back and forth with her; but they way she looked at him, like he was a normal person for once, or maybe even her friend, made him never want to stop.

"Oh man, we really made the wrong call leaving the gate." She said as they approached the chairs they had been hanging around earlier. It had really filled up, since the flight would be boarding soon, but it was going to be a bitch waiting in that line.

"Maybe we should flash our credentials."

She giggled again, wiping a tiny drop of mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth. "Good use of them, I'm sure Strauss would approve."

"Hey, she's not in charge of us for the mission, we are rogue." He joked, and Emily shook her head in disbelief.

"Even though you're kidding, I never imagined hearing those words leave your mouth."

He shrugged, letting the roar of conversation around them envelop the quiet that fell while Emily's attention was drawn elsewhere.

Hotch had been devastated when he found out Haley had left him, and even though he knew it was his fault, he hadn't really forgiven her for leaving him alone and taking Jack with her. He was aware of how hypocritical this was, considering the many nights she slept in a cold bed while he was miles away losing sleep over criminals who sometimes were never caught, he hadn't realized how deep the void he felt was when there was no one at home with him, and how easily his loneliness would sweep over him like a flood. But the way Emily had laughed with him, had smiled at him, and the way she was scooting closer to him subconsciously to avoid the strangers around them, because he was familiar to her, made him feel less alone. It didn't mean much, but someone appreciated being with him. And it on top of that it was Emily, who had never really warmed up to him until recently.

He glanced down in her direction. She had finished her sandwich and was gazing over at a little girl and her mother, who were hanging out near the far wall. Her broad shoulders had slumped, and she was almost leaning her back against his chest if she relaxed a hair more. For Emily, this wasn't a big deal, she was an incredibly tactile person, but had always seemed to shy away from Hotch when she first joined, but for Hotch, this was unheard of. He was close with everyone on his team, but there was just an unspoken rule that they could be friends, but not too close. No casual hugging or explicit joking, nothing like that.

Lost in his head, Hotch studied the way her hair twisted down in between her shoulders, and how the dark curls twisted in every which way across her stark white shirt, and how every time she moved her head, the vanilla scent of her shampoo would waft in his direction, and his nostalgia for Sunday mornings with Haley's head tucked under his chin as they laid in bed only came back stronger.

He was almost thankful when the flight attendants announced it was time to board, and he ushered Emily (who had become very sleepy in a short amount of time) in front of him. Their seats were coach, three across, but Hotch knew she'd be able to sleep once they were in the air, and he couldn't tell if he was annoyed or relieved that they wouldn't have to talk if she wasn't awake.

Emily managed to worm her way into the window seat before Hotch realized she had snatched it from him.

"What?" She said innocently. "We can switch for the next flight."

"Yeah, except this flight is 13 hours long and the second one is only 2, seems fair."

She shrugged. "You took too long."

Their seat mate wasn't as bad as Hotch was expecting, considering the second the business man sat down next to them he slipped headphones over his ears and relaxed into his seat, so Hotch figured he could deal with the middle seat. Emily's eyes were drooping more and more as the seconds passed, and Hotch felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. He knew she didn't have the healthiest sleeping schedule, and she was probably too stressed last night to get a good night's rest. Why hadn't he checked up on her? He had been awake too.

"Why don't you try to sleep, Prentiss." His tone softened as she turned her face over to the sound of his voice, her eyelashes fluttering slowly as she blinked back the sleep in her eyes.

"It's hard for me to relax." She admitted, and Hotch noted how she almost sounded a little exasperated, like her insomnia was more of a slight irritation instead of a big problem.

"Well, does anything help you usually?" Hotch noted how the plane had begun to move forward, and he sent up a silent prayer that this flight wouldn't be as long as he was expecting it to be.

"I don't know."

He met eyes with Emily, who was blinking up at him with her full lashes. He sighed and settled back into his seat as the plane took off into the air.

"You know what I used to do with Jack to help him sleep?"

The corners of her lips tugged up a little. "What?"

"Curl your toes."

Emily snorted. "This isn't going to be some awful flirting tactic like our friend from the cafe is it?"

Hotch felt his cheeks color when he realized what his statement could imply. "No, I promise, it helps. Curl your toes and hold it for a few seconds, then release. Try to regulate your breaths with it."

Emily narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but he smiled as he saw her toes wiggle in her stylish boots.

"You're bullshitting me." She grinned, her tone strung out from exhaustion.

"No, you have to try." Hotch chuckled, watching her face as she focused on curling her toes and releasing with her breathing. Just as he assumed, in a few minutes, Emily twitched, signaling she was finally drifting off. Her head lolled to the side, and with the way she was holding her body, Hotch knew she'd wake up with some killer neck pain.

He decided he could get her to sleep again if he woke her from readjusting her head, so he gently reached over and stabilized her head before pushing her shoulders down a little bit more. She stirred, and cracked her eyes open.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, her sleep-ridden words almost lost in the hum of the plane's engines and the soft chatter from the cabin.

"You were going to be sore sleeping like that." He whispered back, realizing that she hadn't jerked back from where his palm was holding the back of her neck.

She smiled, and squirmed around slightly so her body was more in-line rather than in a 90 degree angle. "Thank you."

He was finally able to relax as soon as Emily's breathing went even again.