A/N #1: I'm studiously avoiding any mention of the baby's name; as far as I know, he doesn't have one, and I don't want to be the one to choose it for him.

A/N #2: This started out with just Hotch and Gideon as main characters, but I'm afraid it's no use; Elle's comin' in here. I should give some explanation for the domination of Hotch and Elle over my CM stories. I was struck in about the third episode of the show at the way they just seemed to instantly click, mostly as colleagues, but also in their personalities; somehow, they're both just on the same wavelength. And now, after Fisher King Pt. 2, well, I have to admit I'm a little obsessed with the two of them. Anyway, who was the one she told about her fear of the job becoming her whole life? And who's the one being consumed by the job now? ANYway. Back to the story.

A/N #3: Just kidding :) But last one, I promise. I'm expanding on what little we learned about Elle's childhood in this season opener. What can I say; I need more :) Now, back to the story.

As the baby let out yet another skull-splitting wail, Gideon forced patience into his touch and grimly rubbed even slower circles up and down the child's back. Thanks to some sleeping pills which Gideon had slipped into Hotch's drink at dinner and was now fervently wishing he hadn't, Hotch was dead to the world, which left Gideon to man the fort. He liked babies, actually, but not when they screamed. Especially not when they screamed like an air raid siren. And especially, especially not at 2:30 AM. "Come on, son," he pleaded, unable to keep a little note of desperation out of his sleep-deprived tones. He never stooped to pleading with murderers or kidnappers, but an infant had him on the point of abject begging. 'He's not even my kid,' he groaned to himself. 'Yes,' his subconscious answered, 'but who maneuvered him into this house? Who drugged his father to get him to rest?' 'Who can get a baby to sleep and won't kill me if I wake them up?' was the next question he asked himself; it seemed more productive than the others. The answer came surprisingly quickly.

Hotch was fished up out of a fog of sleep by a distant ringing sound. He stared blearily at the alarm clock. It said 2:54 AM. He checked the battery. No, it was still set for 9. What was going on? He was even more confused by lowered voices in the hallway. Two of them. One was female. It sounded annoyed. More whispering, and now it sounded resigned and sad. It was no good; he was too curious to go back to sleep. He crept across the carpet and followed the voices' trail to Gideon's room. He froze in the doorway.

The lamp by the window had been switched on, and the warm light revealed none other than Elle, sitting in the rocking chair and cuddling the baby. Something sliced through Hotch as if he were butter; he had a brief vision of Haley singing to their son, trying to get him to sleep, as Elle was doing now. His eyes clouded up, but he blinked until they cleared, and he had to smile at the sight of the most self-possessed woman he knew fawning over what was essentially, to other people at least, just a very young person. To him, of course, his son was his entire world, especially now... He decided to make his presence known before she caught him standing there.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. What do you know; the father finally shows his face." Hotch winced; her tone was light, but her eyes and smile were full of sympathy.

"I might have shown it sooner if Gideon hadn't slipped me enough Valium to knock out a herd of sheep." He looked around, as if expecting to see his host looming up out of a dark corner. "Where is he, anyway?"

Elle nodded towards the bed, where a quilt-covered mass steadily rose and fell with Gideon's slumbering breaths. "After I took over for him, he made a beeline for his pillow. Guess he wasn't cut out to be a mother." The impact of these words resounded like a sonic boom, but Hotch's urge to flee faded as he blindly caught Elle's strangled words. "Oh, God, Hotch, I'm sorry..."

He suddenly felt ridiculous. She had dragged herself across town in the witching hour to try to put his baby to sleep so that he and Gideon (who was practically babysitting him as well) could get some rest, and he was on the point of biting her head off. What was wrong with him? "Don't apologize, please," he murmured in a very contrite voice that he barely recognized. He forced himself to turn around and face her and felt even worse at her stricken expression. "Elle, God, don't look at me like that! What you and Gideon are doing, it's...well, it's beyond 'above and beyond.' I'm really grateful. And I promise, when I can be...coherent...about what happened, you'll be the first to know. Just don't—walk on eggshells."

Elle's grin was relieved and, thankfully, sincere. "Understood. Now, how about some pointers? This little guy is stubborn. I got him to stop screaming, thank God almighty, but he still won't sleep."

Hotch smiled. "He will. The fact that you got him to quiet down means he likes you. He's just making up his mind to trust you, and once he does that, he'll sleep."

"He thinks too much," she answered wryly. "Just like his father."

"Yeah, well, right now, I'm only thinking about going back to bed," Hotch admitted. "Do you mind?"

"Do I mind missing about half a night's sleep when I have to be at the office in less than four hours? Actually, no, I don't." She smiled at his disbelief. "I spent most of my teenage years raising my sister," she explained quietly. Hotch watched in surprise as her gaze focused on something far away. "I always threw a fit when my mom staggered home at three in the morning and begged me to feed the baby, or change her, or something. Babysit her on weekends, afternoons after school; whenever I was free, Mom made sure that she wasn't. But I guess I miss it," she finished in a slightly wistful voice that nearly broke Hotch once more, but he pulled himself together in time.

"Be my guest," he muttered, trying to sound off-handed, but Elle was no fool. He could see it in her eyes; she knew that something about this was bothering him. Judging by the worry he found, though, she didn't know what it was.

"No, I'll just be your back-up babysitter," she answered uncertainly. "You and Gideon seem like you've got everything except the sleeping arrangements under control."

He smiled, trying to alleviate both her concern and her confusion. "This isn't a boy's club," he said lightly. "I hope you'll stop by whenever you like. Just warn us if you plan on towing any of the others along." Elle's face cleared, as he had hoped it would. As far as she was concerned, all was explained.

"Oh, I get it. The slippery slope of the open-door policy. No problem. I've been pretty successful in keeping everyone away on pain of...well, something really horrible to be named later." They shared a conspiratorial chuckle over this; Elle could make anyone in the office, except Gideon, very, very afraid. "Believe it or not, J.J. is a really useful ally. Who'd have thought, right? The press conference queen likes keeping things under wraps."

Hotch couldn't help smiling back at her. He was suddenly struck by how his mood had lifted in the last few minutes. On the other hand, his exhaustion hadn't. "I'm sorry, I'm fading out on you," he yawned. "I'll see you in the—I'll see you at a civilized time of day," he finished wryly. He padded forward and kissed his son on the head, smiling as the baby gurgled sleepily. Hotch hesitated for a moment, then reached a hand towards Elle's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Thank you," he whispered. She nodded, meeting his eyes hesitantly, visibly holding the tears back, with considerable effort. She understood now, he realized. He had to leave. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she murmured, just before he closed the door behind him, not looking back once.