A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for reading this story and for your support, especially the reviews. You are making me very happy! More A/N at the end because otherwise I would spoil you.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were, never will be.
Tuesday (flashback)
Confusion. That was all Emily was able to feel after she and Hotch parted on Monday. He had been so open and yet so distant that she didn't know how to interpret his behavior. Let alone her own behavior. They didn't even agree to meet again. His nod at the end implied that he wanted it, but Emily didn't dare to be certain about anything anymore.
Longing. After a more or less sleepless night, she checked her phone, but he hadn't tried to contact her. So, what now? She wanted to see him again. Needed to. The memory of him standing close to her causing her pulse to quicken. She waited until noon, and then finally gave in and called him. Once. He didn't pick up. Twice. She left a message, but he didn't call back. By early evening, she was mad at him and concerned at the same time. It wasn't like him not to get in touch and to leave her in the dark. Then again, the version of Hotch she had met the day before was someone else, someone she didn't know. Perhaps he already had left the country, taken a flight back to Washington and couldn't answer her calls because he was thousands of miles away up in the air. The thought caused her stomachache. Her appointments were done for today, and she decided that she couldn't wait any longer.
So, here she is, standing in the lobby of his hotel. It isn't her usual style to run after men who ignore her, but he crossed continents just to see her. Therefore, calling him twice and walking a few blocks to visit him doesn't seem to be much effort in comparison and makes them even somehow.
Emily almost expects that he is really gone, but he hasn't checked out yet and apparently is present. After she called his room, the friendly receptionist informs her that Mr. Hotchner is waiting for her – nothing in her facial expression giving away what she may be thinking about their relationship, about the fact that he doesn't come down but invites her to come up to him.
She doesn't know what will happen next when she knocks on Hotch's hotel room door, isn't even sure what she wants to tell him.
He opens the door, looking terribly. As if he didn't sleep at all. But also sexy with the touch of a three-day-stubble – Emily can't help but notice. Hotch steps back to let her in, avoiding eye contact. He even leaves it up to her to close the door behind her. When she turns around again, he is standing at the window, looking out.
"So, am I allowed to pull off my coat?" Emily asks in a futile effort to cope with the situation. This is worse than she expected.
She doesn't wait for an answer, let alone that he doesn't give her one, pulls off her coat and throws it rather indifferently over an armchair before she approaches him.
It's getting dark outside, and a light rain is drumming against the window, refracting the light of the street lamps. Emily looks around. His suitcase lies on the bed, half packed; the wardrobe is open. As if he wanted to leave and didn't put the plan into action. What the hell is going on here?
"Hotch," she touches his arm and pulls softly at it so that he is forced to turn around and look at her.
He raises a hand and caresses her face so tenderly that her heart aches. If she had the slightest doubt that he actually came here for her, this gesture erases it.
"Why are you here?" his raspy voice matches his dark mood.
Emily has seen Hotch devastated and broken before, but it is the first time that she, or at least something linked to her, is the reason for it. During the day, she has been thinking of lots of things to tell him. Explanations. Justifications. But there is only one proper answer to this question.
"I'm here to tell you the truth," she says. No explanations or justifications. She is going to confess.
At that, Hotch's eyes seem to wake up from the agony that surrounds him like an invisible shield. Emily touches his hand that still caresses her face and pushes it away as softly as possible before she steps back a little. She has to keep a clear head for what she wants to say to him, and this is not possible when he touches her like that. Hotch's gaze flickers in a wary anticipation. He is preparing himself for whatever he expects her to say.
"I'm not good at... this," Emily starts, implying with a gesture that she refers to the whole situation. "But when I thought about this... mess that happened between us yesterday, I remembered that there is, indeed, something I'm good at. I don't evade difficult situations. I may not always be successful in finding the right solution," she adds, aware of her past mistakes, "but I don't back away from whatever life throws at me."
Now, that sounded... wrong, she realizes, as soon as the words are out. Hotch's affection isn't something she would need to back away from. Anyway, he doesn't seem to feel the need to respond as yet, just quietly listening, almost as if he resigned to his fate. An opinion she intends to revise.
"God, I told you, I'm not good at this," she states the obvious, shaking her head incredulously, licking her lips in this typical automatic motion Hotch knows only too well, and he can't help but stare at these lips. She catches him looking, a nervous laugh escaping her.
"What you told me yesterday – that you came here for me, that you broke up with Beth right after we talked back then. I never... If I had known that, how you... felt for me, I would have never taken the job. At least not without talking it through with you or perhaps even not then."
She never would have taken the job. Or at least perhaps not. That pretty much sums it up. She simply doesn't know, thought about it again and again and can't say what her reaction would have been. Emily has been having these strong feelings for Hotch since forever, but she is also an independent woman and doesn't want to make her decision to take a job or not subject to someone else's approval even if it's Hotch.
"Feel," he says and catches her off-guard with his remark. "You said if you had known what I felt for you, but I'm still feeling it." He gets closer to her again. "That's why I'm here."
He is still in a dark and brooding mood. However, his worst expectations didn't come true. She didn't tell him to forget about them. This is the reason why he avoided her the whole day. After her reaction yesterday, there didn't seem to be much hope left. He even contacted the airport to book an earlier flight but then changed his mind again after he had already started packing. He is neither indecisive nor weak. Once he gets involved with somebody, though, even if it's only emotionally, it's all or nothing, and this someone else has the power to break him. She has the power to break him. He handed it over to her the day before with the admission that he came here for her. And her reaction, this mixture of confusion and rejection, nearly pushed him over the edge. When she tried to get through to him at the end, he didn't actually register it anymore, only reacted to her physical closeness.
"I wish I had known," Emily whispers. Everything she told him so far was very reasonable, but not even close to a confession. "I didn't, though, and I can't undo that I took the job, but when I realized that you came here for me...," she breaks off mid-sentence and takes a deep breath. "I want what could have been, no matter how complicated it may be under the given circumstances."
I want what could have been. For Emily Prentiss this is as close to a confession as it will get. At least for now.
"Meaning...," he steps even closer, mimicking her actions from the previous day, his dark mood slowly turning into sensual pleasures due to her nearness and their intimate conversation. This time, it's her who's holding her breath.
Emily swallows. "Meaning that I want this. You. Me." When he doesn't respond, she lets out another short, nervous laugh. "Come on, Hotch. Don't make this so difficult for me."
She looks down, trying to gather herself, just when he reaches out and pulls her toward him, closing the last distance between them hereby.
"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this," he says, letting his hands drop from her arms to her hips.
"And this..." One hand slips under her hair to her neck.
"And..." Her lips find his before he can finish the sentence.
It is astounding. After all this talking around the subject, this should feel awkward, at least unfamiliar, but it doesn't. Somehow, he always knew that she would feel like this, well-toned and yet soft, and that she would sound like this, drawing a sharp breath when his hands pull at her clothes and find bare skin underneath, moaning quietly when he lets his mouth follow the trail of his hands.
There is no hesitation as to what is going to happen. They both need it. Sometimes talking is overrated.
His suitcase is being shoved rather rudely from the bed so that his clothes end up scattered on the floor, but Hotch doesn't care. He doesn't even care about turning off the light. Tonight he wants to feel and see everything.
Wednesday (flashback – before the explosion)
When Emily wakes up, her sore body makes sure that she immediately becomes aware what happened and where she is right now. With her eyes still closed, she inhales their scent and feels for his warm body under the sheets only to find him gone. Abruptly, she sits up, covering herself instinctively with the sheets as if there was something to see he hadn't already. Hotch is sitting in an armchair opposite to the bed, watching her.
"What...," she is irritated and as a displacement activity raises her hand in a futile effort to straighten her tousled hair.
"Don't worry, looks good," Hotch interrupts her, smiling. Compared to his behavior yesterday, well, at least his behavior before his suitcase ended up on the floor, he is another man. Confident and calm.
"Were you watching me?" Emily asks uncomfortably. As much as she trusts him, the thought makes her cringe.
"In between. Thinking mostly," he admits, becoming serious again.
She knows him inside out. And even if they have taken their relationship to the next level, and he has his casual moments, he will always be the complicated, overly worried, brooding type. Last night didn't change anything.
"Thinking about what?" she asks although she really doesn't want to have a serious conversation just yet. Her brain doesn't function unless she had her morning dose of caffeine. Her ulcer is in remission, and she is allowed one coffee per day. An allowance she indulges in. Let alone that she still is on an emotional high due to what happened between them and doesn't want to destroy this perfect mood. But...
"Us," Hotch simply responds, and only now, she notices that he is already fully dressed.
"You are dressed," she states surprised. "Did you shower and all, and I didn't wake up?"
The smile is back. Obviously, he did shower, and she did not wake up. A fact he seems to attribute to his qualities as a lover. And rightfully so, not that she would admit this and let him have the benefit of knowing it. However, she isn't able to suppress a smile either.
"I got a call," he explains. Wow, she didn't even hear his phone ring? Emily is starting to worry what else she might have missed. "From the BAU. We have a new case, a really bad one. I have to fly back today." He is serious again. Now that reality is catching up with them, the light-hearted moments barely stand a chance. No matter what they feel or what happened last night, they both have demanding jobs, not to mention that they are living on different continents.
"I understand," Emily meekly replies, and she does although her heart aches at the mere thought. She doesn't want him to leave, can't imagine a life without him, now that they started this.
"You do?" he is surprised but in an instant remembers who he is talking to and corrects himself, "Of course, you do." She was a member of the BAU long enough. Of course, she understands.
"Not that I want you to leave," she adds sadly to prevent any further misunderstandings, clinging to the sheets that suddenly feel cold.
"I don't want to go." Hotch stands up, walks over to her and sits down on the bed next to her. In response to his closeness, Emily's body starts to tingle with excitement. The things he did to her last night...
He plays with a strand of her hair and then bends over to kiss her bare shoulder. The tenderness in his actions is heartbreaking. She already knew it yesterday and even before, but this proves it one more time. It is not just affection, and it is not just physical even if neither of them dares to speak of love as yet.
"I want us to work this out somehow," he mumbles, his lips still nibbling at her skin, as she pulls him into an embrace.
"We will find a way," she assures him. "I will talk to Clyde. Maybe there is a chance that I can get another position in the States, preferably in Washington." If they want to be together, it can't take place here. Aside from his job as unit chief, Hotch has a son, and Emily doesn't want to be the reason he has to pull his child out of the familiar surroundings.
"You would do this?" She can tell that he is astounded about her spontaneous offer. Well, it's not that spontaneous. She had enough time to think about it after they had met on Monday. Emily doesn't do things by halves. Once things developed the way they did last night, she knew that it would be the only logical consequence if they both really want to give this a chance. And she is glad that he didn't suggest it, that he left the choice up to her.
"Yes," Emily confirms emphatically, "I would do it. All the more because you didn't ask me to do it. Thank you for that." She kisses him, and he pushes her softly back onto the mattress.
"You are already dressed and I," she consults a watch," have to be in my office in about an hour."
"I don't need to get undressed for what I want to do," Hotch whispers in her ear longingly. "Give me ten minutes. You won't regret it."
She doesn't, but he gets undressed at some point, and ten minutes become half an hour easily. Emily suppresses the thought that anyone will notice that she is wearing the same clothes she wore yesterday. There is no way she will manage to get home to change her clothes and still arrive at work in time. Therefore, it's only a quick shower before she gets dressed hastily.
The situation couldn't be any worse. The moment has come to say goodbye. She is in a hurry, and he will be gone by the time her workday is over.
They are standing in the middle of the room, embracing each other, almost clinging to each other, and Emily feels the sharp sting of tears in her eyes. She doesn't want to cry, doesn't like to show weakness, but the up and down of emotions have worn both of them down.
"When will I see you again?" she breathes although she knows that he can't give her an answer. It depends on his work schedule mainly, plus on the fact that he has a son someone has to take care of.
Out of the blue, Hotch grabs her shoulders and pushes her back a little so that he can look at her. Then his hands cup her face, and he kisses her. Once. Twice. Emily tenses. Now, what is this? He won't tell her that it was a mistake and that he doesn't intend to see her again, will he? On the other hand, the way he is kissing and caressing her tells another story. Anyhow, she would have never anticipated what happens next.
"I didn't plan this." He makes eye contact and reveals hereby his emotions. Intensity. Rawness. Vulnerability. "I didn't think ahead of what would happen after our reencounter." Because he considered it possible, likely even, that she would reject him – so much she knows by this time. "But right now, all I want is to be with you and never let you go again."
Emily's thoughts are swirling. Of course, it is wonderful to hear him say all this. At the same time, though, this is getting dangerously close to a confession of love and even if she feels it, she is not sure whether she is ready to hear it, let alone say it back.
But he doesn't tell her that he loves her although she can see in his eyes that he does. Just when she thinks he will stop there and not add anything else, he does. Two words.
"Marry me."
A/N: First of all – I KNOW this is a huge cliffhanger. But believe me or not, I didn't expect this to happen until I wrote the last lines. Therefore, please don't yell at me for ending the chapter here. Emily has to think about the proposal (let alone that she still is buried), and I have to think about what happens next, too.
Despite the proposal, you probably noticed that I'm not comfortable with writing gushing love confessions. To me it's more real when this takes time because it is an important thing to say (perhaps the most important thing you can say to someone else). So, this is the reason for their hesitation to express their love even if they feel it. Somehow, I felt the need to explain this.
The current plan is to post the next chapter around Wednesday so that you don't have to wait that long. Meanwhile, thank you for sticking with the story and leaving a review.