A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed - I really appreciate it! In this chapter, Hotch & Emily finally talk about their issues! Well, some of their issues anyway.

If you like it or if you have a suggestion or comment, please please please click on review when you're done reading and let me know.

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"Daddy! Lookit what I got!" Jack burst through the door of the apartment, waving the stuffed lion Emily had bought him at the zoo.

"Wow, look at that, buddy! Did you say thank you to Emily?" Hotch asked, giving a tentative smile at the woman who had followed his son through the doorway.

"Thank you, Em," Jack said dutifully, flashing her a smile that she returned in kind.

"Anytime, Jack. Now come here and give me a hug before I go," she said, bending down to his level. Hotch wasn't surprised that she was trying to make a quick getaway - while on a regular Saturday evening she'd come in, throw her coat in the closet and start slicing and dicing, instructing Hotch on clever ways to hide vegetables in food Jack would actually eat, today was no regular Saturday. The lonely day Hotch had spent doing paperwork had certainly pounded that fact into his brain. Luckily, all that alone time had given him some time to think, and he was pretty sure he had come up with a solid solution to the Emily problem, as he thought of it.

"Em, you can't leave! You didn't eat dinner yet!" Jack whined, looking up at his father, imploring him to do something. "Actually, Prentiss, I was hoping to have a word with you quickly," Hotch said, the words tumbling out of his mouth somewhat awkwardly; he'd inserted the Prentiss in there to let her know that he was willing to meet on her terms - the looks of daggers she'd been shooting him when he'd used her first name in the past two days had told him that perhaps retreating to formality was the best course of action at the moment.

"Well, I'm sorry but I need to be heading home," her voice was clipped, and she certainly didn't sound sorry at all. "Jack, gimme a hug!" she commanded lightly, and sensing he was losing the fight to get her to stay, the little boy went over and gave Emily a big hug.

"I wish you'd stay, Em," he said mournfully as she stood to leave.

"I know, Jack. But I'll see you soon, okay? Don't forget to tell your dad all about the lions," she reminded the small boy as she turned to leave. She wasn't quite out the door when Jack grabbed his father's pant leg.

"Just say you're sorry, daddy! Then you guys can play together again," he said seriously, and Hotch stared in wonder at his son, and then gave him a small smile.

"You are a very smart boy, Jack. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Why don't you go put a movie in?" he suggested, and Jack's face lit up as he ran toward the den. Hotch went to the door and into the hallway, and saw that the retreating back of Emily Prentiss hadn't really made it very far.

"Emily!" he called, and though she didn't turn around, she stopped walking, waiting. "I'm sorry. My actions yesterday were completely inexcusable, and I know it. I didn't treat you with the respect you deserve, and have earned many times over. And I was a sucky friend," he said, remembering JJ's words. "So I'm sorry," he concluded lamely, not one for Mr. Darcy-esque speeches (which he only knew because Emily had made him watch Pride and Prejudice one night not too long ago). He watched her form intently, hoping she would turn back and let him explain. Having her mad at him was not only a problem personally, but professionally as well - it would make work awkward, and she would especially be distrustful of him considering his actions on the past case. Things would be strained, and they wouldn't be able to partner together effectively, which would be a problem since the two worked together extraordinarily well. He gave a small sigh of relief as she slowly pivoted and began walking slowly toward his open door.

"I'm still mad at you," she said, and he sincerely believed it. Her tone wasn't very forgiving, but at least she was hearing him out. She sat down stiffly on the living room couch, her arms crossed over her chest. Hotch shut and locked the door, and then sat in the chair facing his friend. He was thinking of a way to start again, but his thoughts were interrupted by her voice. It didn't have the same hard quality as it had in their past conversations today, and Hotch was surprised and ashamed to hear a slight vulnerability when she spoke.

"I just want to know why, Hotch. I can't think of a single reason why you would make those decisions yesterday that leads me to a conclusion other than you thinking me inadequate or inferior," she looked him straight in the eyes as she spoke, and he could see the hurt laying behind the anger.

"Emily, I do not think you inferior in any regard. Quite the opposite, actually," Hotch replied emphatically.

"Then what the hell?" Emily challenged. "Hotch, I've rarely felt that humiliated and worthless. You owe me an explanation."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm not very good at this - at explanations and feelings and all that," he admitted, causing Emily to snort.

"You don't say," she said, not altogether unkindly. "But I'm not going to even entertain the thought of forgiving you until you tell me why," she was never one to back down from a fight, and she was never one to be submissive to someone else's commands. Hotch took a deep breath. She was really going to make him explain. He had been prepared for this, had given this speech a few times to himself earlier in the day, but now, sitting here, facing her, he knew that this wasn't going to be easy for him. But, he reminded himself; this is what he needed to do.

"Did you see those victims, Emily? Did you see their dark hair and their dark eyes and their status as powerful women?" The female agent nodded. "Emily, every time I looked at those pictures, I saw you. I saw you, lifeless and strangled. I saw you dead on the floor of a house I didn't reach in time." Emily swallowed audibly as Hotch continued in a low voice. "Do you know how terrifying that is? For me, to lose my objectivity like that? I lost control, Emily. I let the Unsub get to me, and in doing so I greatly offended my best profiler." If not for the situation, Emily would have beamed in pride. She knew she was good at her job, but to be told - by Hotch, no less, that he thought she was the best, well - that was a red-letter moment. As it was, that part of what he was saying was the least of her concerns. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"Emily, your friendship means a great deal to me. I don't have many successful personal relationships, as you are aware, and it's my own fault. But I value our friendship and if something were to happen to you," Hotch was choosing his words carefully, not knowing exactly how to put his inner turmoil into sentences. "I don't think Jack and I would be able to deal if something were to happen to you," he settled on, and looked back up at Emily. She was sitting straight, and he could practically see the wheels in her head whirling.

"Hotch, I understand the need to protect our friendship and by extension me, but I am good at my job! I can take care of myself, and I promise you that I'm not going anywhere. If I let some Unsub get the best of me, then who would make sure that Jack ate his vegetables or wore matching clothes on picture day?" Her tone was light, but then turned serious again. "I suppose I can understand your motivations, but I still don't appreciate the way you chose to handle the situation."

"I know," Hotch agreed. "I know you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but the thought of putting you into that small interview room with that man - I didn't feel right."

"And I know that's your call as boss, Hotch, but just because this guy has a type and I'm it doesn't mean that he's less scary or less bad than any of the other men that I routinely deal with," Emily countered. "You have to let me do my job, Hotch. Of course I value our friendship, but this is my job, Hotch, and I can't let you take that from me."

"I'm not trying to, Emily. You are an integral part of the team, and you could have broken this guy twice as quickly as Morgan - you were right about that. You are an excellent profiler, and you don't need me to protect you. I get that. But in the spur of the moment, not having slept in thirty-six hours decision that I made yesterday, I felt I needed to. Protect you," he clarified. "Which isn't necessarily right, but sometimes I can't -"

"Let go of your alpha male tendencies?" Emily suggested wryly, and Hotch gave a small smile.

"Yes," he said, not feeling the need to elaborate. It was quiet for a few moments; both parties quietly digesting the conversation, and then Emily broke the silence.

"I'm not going to lie, Hotch, I'm still kind of pissed. But I appreciate the apology. Can you do something for me, though?"

"Of course," Hotch answered.

"Promise that you won't do that ever, ever again?" Her voice was serious, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"You have my word, Emily, that I will never again let our personal relationship cloud my judgment of your ability." Emily nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"I'm going to go home, now, okay? I still need a little cooling off time and there's a bottle of wine on my counter and a tub of ice cream in my freezer."

"But, we're okay?" Hotch asked cautiously, unsure. Emily gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, Hotch. We're okay. Unless you pull that shit again," Emily warned, giving him a small smile as she stepped out the door. "I'll see you on Monday, Hotch."

"Yes, Monday," Hotch replied as she started down the hall, and then closed the door. Well, that went okay, he thought to himself with relief. Then, a pang of guilt and annoyance. But you could've told her the full reason for what you did, the little voice in his brain said. You know, that whole our value our friendship was really cute and everything, but when are you going to tell that you're not quite sure, but you may in fact love her?