Hello lovely readers, thanks as always for your very kind reviews. Here's the next chapter.
Lyrics copyright of Sony Music, Syco Music and RCA, sung by Westlife
If I call out your name like a prayer,
Would you leave me alone with my tears?
Knowing I need you so,
Would you still turn and go?
This time,
Be different,
Please stay
don't go
Please stay
Emily sneezed into her tissue as she pushed open the door to the BAU. She felt like crap. Her head was pounding, her nose was so blocked that she had to breathe through her mouth and every muscle in her body ached. She could have sworn that even her very bones were aching. But she had a ton of reports she had to complete. And she knew that if she didn't, Hotch would end up doing them himself and he was busy enough as it was.
It had been two weeks since the she had had pizza with Hotch and Jack and since then she had taken Jack out to an indoor playground that a friend with children had told her about after which she had joined them for a mac and cheese dinner. Luckily this time Jack had not insisted on another goodbye hug. She had decided to act as if that hug had never happened. It seemed that Hotch had had the same idea. Professionally, nothing had changed, Hotch treated her in the exact same manner as he he always did and neither one of them showed any indication that their relationship outside work was beginning to resemble an actual friendship. Emily wasn't sure why that was. It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong. She hung out with him and Jack in much the same way as she hung out with JJ and Henry. Of course, she didn't have the same feelings for JJ as she did for Hotch. Feelings for Hotch? Where had that thought come from?
She sneezed again, so suddenly that she wasn't in time to grab a new tissue and sprayed over her keyboard. She groaned in dismay, pressing the back of her forefinger to her dripping nose as she scrabbled around her handbag for a tissue.
"Emily? Are you all right?"
She shook her head, lifting her teary eyes to meet Hotch's. His habitual frown was in place, a look of concern in his eyes.
"Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, giving it to her.
"Oh no, I shouldn't," she said in a muffled voice, gesturing to her nose with her free hand.
"Don't be silly, take it."
After a slight hesitation, she did. After wiping her nose, she looked at him again. "Thanks. I'll get this back to you."
"Don't worry about it. What are you doing here? You don't look good at all." His dark eyes drilled in her, pinning her down and making her feel like she was a helpless insect at the end of a microscope.
She coughed, trying to clear her throat. "Gee thanks, you sure know the way to get to a woman's heart." There was no change to his expression.
"You need to go home, Emily."
"No, I'll be fine. I took a double dose of pseudoephidrine, the symptoms will go soon and I'll be good to go."
His frown deepened. "I don't think you should have taken a double dose of pseudoephidrine. Nothing's that urgent that you need to be here today. Go home."
"No Hotch, I need to finish these reports first. I told you I'd get them done today." She stared at him, a pleading look in her eyes. "Please let me stay for a bit, I'll just do some and then I'll go. I don't want you to have to stay behind just because I couldn't get them done."
His expression softened. "Don't worry about the reports, the rest of the team will help with them. I need you to go home and rest. You're not doing yourself or us any good here. Besides, you'll probably infect the rest of us if you stay here. It's a good thing I told everyone to come in a bit later than usual."
She opened her mouth to protest but saw the implacable look in his eyes and in the set of his mouth. She hardly ever took a sick day and she didn't want to spoil her attendance record, but she was feeling like death warmed over. She was surprised she even managed to hold a normal conversation with Hotch. Her headache had grown worse and was causing nausea to churn in her stomach. "All right." She reached for her handbag and stood up, but the room whirled alarmingly around her.
Hotch's hand grabbed hold of her arm. "Easy." She reached up and braced her hand on his chest, taking deep breaths.
After a moment, she felt better. Well, not really, but the room had finally stopped moving. "I'm okay, now. You can let go."
"I don't think so. I'm going to take you home."
"Oh no, please there's no need. I'll be fine." He already had more work on his plate because of her, she couldn't take him away from work as well.
"There's no way you can drive yourself home, you can barely stand up. I'm going to call Morgan and let him know."
"Hotch..." she protested again, but more weakly this time.
"Come on, let's go." He slipped his arm around her waist, then waited patiently as she sneezed into his handkerchief again.
They got into his car and she leant back against the headrest in relief, vaguely listening as Hotch called Derek from his cell and told him that he was stepping out for a while.
Before he had even driven more than a mile, she had fallen asleep.
Hotch looked over at Emily as she slept, worry for her clouding his face. She was pale, a faint sheen of perspiration on her temples. Stopping at a red light, he reached over to touch her forehead, unsurprised to find that she had a temperature. As he drove further on, he saw a sign for a drug store and quickly pulled in. He glanced at her before he got out of the car and saw that she was still asleep. Assured that she would be fine for the next few minutes, he stepped out, locking the door behind him.
He spoke with the pharmacist on duty and told her the symptoms that Emily was experiencing. She nodded, informing him that there was a particularly nasty virus making the rounds at the moment. Her advice was to make sure that Emily stayed hydrated and to take the flu medicine and painkillers until her temperature broke and her symptoms abated. She also suggested that someone stay with Emily as she could become too weak to move around. After listening to her advice, Hotch was thankful that he happened to have his go bag in the boot as it looked like he would have to stay with her for a while.
"Dave?" He spoke into his cell as the shop assistant rang up the purchases. Hotch took out his wallet to pay for the medication.
"Hotch, where are you?"
"I'm at a drug store. Emily came in sick and I'm taking her home. Stopped here to get some extra medication just in case." He signed the credit card receipt and gave it back to the shop assistant.
"Is she all right?"
"She's in pretty bad shape. The pharmacist just told me that there's a bad virus going around and that someone should stay with her. So I think I better stick around for a while and see how she is."
"Sure. I'll let everyone know."
"Thanks. I'll check in later."
"Aaron?"
"Yeah?" Hotch took his purchases and started walking back to the car.
"It might be a long day. Have you got something to read?"
"I've got some files with me."
He heard Dave chuckle. "Why am I not surprised. Catch you later."
He hung up and opened the car door, eyes immediately shooting towards Emily. She looked worse, her face now even paler than it was this morning, her breathing laboured. He quickly got in and drove the rest of the way to her house, as fast as he could.
When he reached her apartment block, he took her keys out of her handbag and jogged up to her apartment to open the door first. Then he came back down and lifted her out of the car, taking care not to bump her head. He noticed with concern that she barely even stirred, her head lolling weakly against his shoulder. He reached her apartment, panting slightly from the exertion of walking up two flights of stairs bearing her weight. He really needed to visit the gym at work more often than the twice a week he was doing at the moment.
He closed the door behind him with his foot and walked down the hallway to her bedroom. Gently laying her down on her bed, he then took off her boots and socks, then pausing briefly to look her her, took a deep breath and unfastened her tailored grey slacks. As he drew them down her legs, his brain registered her sleekly muscled calves and the smooth skin on her legs and thighs. Focus, for God's sake, Hotchner!
He tried to remove her jacket, but its fitted cut made it difficult. "Emily," he said softly as he slipped and arm her her to lift her up. "Emily, I need to take your jacket off. Wake up. Emily," he repeated again, more firmly this time.
Her eyes fluttered and opened, staring at him drowsily. She said nothing although she managed to stay up in a sitting position, head not quite steady. She sat still, letting him take her jacket, then watched quietly as he unbuttoned her shirt. Hotch kept his face sternly impassive, ignoring the slight increase of his pulse. He took her shirt off, averting his eyes from her chest, but not before he saw her beige coloured bra, which would have looked completely practical if it wasn't for the delicate white lace edging. He clenched his jaw, forcing his mind back on the task of getting her comfortable. Thankfully he had caught sight of a t-shirt and pyjama pants folded on top of the dresser and walked over to get the t-shirt, deciding not to bother with the pants for now.
Just after he had helped her into the t-shirt, she clutched his arm, startling him. He frowned in concern at the look of alarm on her pale face.
"Hotch, I think I'm going to..."
He lifted her off the bed in a flash, running to the bathroom. They got there just in time and he held her as she threw up into the toilet, holding her hair back from her face.
When she finally finished, she leant back weakly against him.
After a couple of minutes, he murmured. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and back in bed."
He stood by as she brushed her teeth and cleaned her face. He held her arm and they walked back into the bedroom. Hotch drew the covers over her saw she had a glass of water on her bedside table.
"Here, have some water." He watched as she took a few sips and handed the glass back to him.
"You can go, Hotch, I'll be okay," she whispered, her eyes already drooping.
"Go to sleep, Emily, everything's going to be fine."
After she fell asleep, he gave Jessica a call, asking her to take Jack for the night, explaining that he had to care for a sick friend. He could tell that she was somewhat surprised that he even had a friend close enough to do something like this for, but being Jessica, she agreed straight away. He was lucky to have a sister-in-law like her.
He watched her as she slept, wondering what it was that he was feeling for her. He knew that over the last month she was becoming a close friend and both he and Jack enjoyed spending time with her. But deep down he knew that she was starting to mean more to him than just a friend. Perhaps it was because it had been such a long time since he had had any female companionship and this made him vulnerable. Bullshit, his mind chided him. He won't be feeling this way for any female. It was Emily that he couldn't seem to stay away from.
Before the late night dinner a month ago, he had never looked at Emily in a non-professional manner. In fact he had never really looked at her before. But in the past month, he noticed that his eyes were constantly straying over to her. He was fascinated by the way she shared a laugh with Morgan, her head tipped back, teeth flashing; the way she licked the corner of her mouth when she was unsure of what to say; the confident and self-assured manner she spoke to her colleagues and others; even the way she tapped her long, elegant fingers on the table as she concentrated on her reports. His gaze would linger on the gentle curve of her waist as she leaned against the bench in the break room, drinking her fifth cup of coffee for the day, her face as she inhaled the aroma from her coffee mug. He realised that he was doing all this things and yes, it was completely unprofessional.
It was a good thing that he stopped by the drug store and received the advice from the pharmacist, because over the course of the next twelve hours, Emily alternated between sleeping fitfully, coughing and throwing up. Hotch was right there by her side, holding her in the bathroom, wiping her down with wet towels, trying to keep her temperature from getting too high as she was unable to keep anything down.
Thankfully, her temperature finally broke at around eight that evening. Her t-shirt was drenched with sweat and Hotch helped her out of it, as well as her underwear, trying to look at her as dispassionately as he could. She looked so unwell that he would have felt like a complete bastard if he had been aroused by her naked body. Of course, he couldn't stop his subconscious from registering the incredible perfection that was Emily.
"Hotch, don't..." Her voice was so weak he could barely hear her.
"It's all right...I need to get you into some dry clothes." He pulled the top sheet over her and went over to the dresser, finding her fresh pyjamas in the second drawer. After she was dressed he helped her out of bed and led her into the kitchen.
"Do you want to try to eat something?"
She looked up at him, her dark eyes looking so sad and wounded that all he wanted to do was to lift her onto his lap and hold her.
"Thank you for taking care of me. You really didn't have to." She touched the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue, looking uncertain.
He tried to put her at ease, giving her a slight smile. "That's what friends are for, right? You would have done the same for me."
She blinked a couple of times. She nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"I found some canned chicken soup. Do you want me to warm some up?"
"I guess I should have something."
He could feel her eyes following him as he warmed her soup up and made her a mug of black tea.
"While you eat that I'll go change your sheets. Where do you keep them?"
"Oh Hotch, I can do that." She made a move to stand up but Hotch quickly stopped her by catching her hand in his.
"Emily, it's fine. You don't want to sleep on damp sheets and I am more than happy to change them for you. Let me do this for you." He looked into her eyes, hoping that the expression on his face was gentle enough to convince her. He tightened his grasp on her hand.
"O..okay, if you're sure."
He nodded.
Still looking uncertain, she told him where the clean sheets were kept.
He watched her like a hawk as she climbed back into her bed. He had been pleased to see that she managed to have a few mouthfuls of the soup and a third of her cup of tea without any indication that she felt any further nausea. Her color was also slightly improved.
He pulled the covers over her and reached over to switch off the bedside lamp. He could just see her in the soft moonlight that was coming in from the open window drapes. She was staring at him, eyes wide open. He didn't know what came over him at that moment, because he then reached down and gently stroked her hair back from her cheek, his hand lingering on her head, fingers entwined in her hair. She reached up and curled her hand over his wrist, holding it there.
They stared at each other in the dark room, that moment suspended in time. And then came her soft request.
"Hotch, will you please stay with me and hold me?" He heard the slight tremor in her voice.
He knew that if he answered in the affirmative, their relationship would forever be altered. But he didn't even hesitate. "Yes."
He slipped under the covers next to her and drew her into his arms. He laid on his back, she on her right side, her body fitting into his. Her head rested on his shoulder and her left hand rested on his chest, just above his heart. He breathed in the faint smell of her perfume combined with the smell of freshly laundered sheets. And just like the hug they had shared, he felt like he was finally home.
For the first time in a very long time, even before Haley had left him, he fell asleep without once thinking of any of the many monsters he had profiled, or the countless victims to whom they had fallen prey to. Nor did they enter his dreams that night, held at bay by the woman in his arms.
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