The sun was just barely over the garden hedge when Emily found herself standing in the courtyard across from Hotch. On any other morning, her eyes would have been drooping, and she would have been annoyed being up this early on her break; but since her new body guard had obliged in teaching her self defense, she found herself quite excited.

So excited in fact, she had found it difficult to sleep that night. For so long she had begged her mother while living under the same roof, to allow her to learn self-defense. Every time the answer was either, "It's not lady-like." or "That's what security is for." Emily would get so frustrated. She was constantly around strangers or threats were being made, and a little knowledge to protect herself would allow her to feel more in control of her safety and surroundings.

However Hotch had managed to convince her mother to let him teach her, she was eternally grateful. Although, how long that would last would depend on how sore she would be the next morning. Expecting things to get physical, she had decided to wear a comfortable maroon t-shirt, a pair of black leggings, and tennis shoes. She tightened her ponytail signaling she was ready.

She watched him slip his suit jacket off of his shoulders and drape it on a bench nearby, as well as removing his weapon and holster and placing it down next to it. He walked back over to her while loosening his tie ever so slightly, and began to roll his sleeves up to his forearms. Her eyes wandered from his defined forearms, to his broad shoulders and wide chest. She couldn't stop a small smile from forming on her face.

He noticed her smiling, "That won't be there for long."

Prentiss scoffed, "Agent Guerrero taught me a thing or two. I'm not completely helpless."

That was a lie. Truthfully, he had really only taught her to kick a man in the junk, or stomp feet, or bite hands if she was in trouble. She had been seven at the time, and as much as that was good information, she didn't think it was going to save her much today. Not after witnessing him rearrange two men's faces with a book.

"First things first" He said, his loud voice reverberating off of the pavement. He stood next to her, and faced her. "Your number one tool for defense is observation."

Emily nodded slowly, "Makes sense, if you're aware of your surroundings then you can perceive danger before it happens."

"Yes. You have to take everything into account; your environment, mannerisms, people, or lack thereof- using yesterday as an example. You walked down the stairs first at the bookstore. Your mind perceived the change in your environment which is why you froze. Your body went rigid, and you became alert."

Emily thought back to yesterday. As she was walking down the stairs she had been thinking of where she could find the book she was looking for, and she had glanced up toward the ground floor, right before she stepped down is when she had noticed everyone gone and two very suspicious looking characters.

"What made you freeze? What did your mind first perceive to be different?" Hotch asked.

She thought for a moment, "The room, I guess. When we walked in it was crowded. When we were leaving, I noticed a significantly less amount of people."

"Would you have seen that if you had found the book you were looking for and decided to skim through it while walking downstairs to the cashier?"

"Probably not."

He shook his head, "No, most likely not. You have to always be aware of your surroundings. The people in your vicinity, how many-or how few. Are there vehicles nearby, or a lack thereof? All of these factor into your perception of your environment. A lack of something is just as important as an abundance of something."

Emily scrunched her eyebrows, "Elaborate."

"Say you walked out into the plaza where we were yesterday-same time of day- and there were very few people. Is that not significant?"

"Yes, it would be. I would be suspicious, unless due to inclement weather, there's always a ton of people there."

Hotch nodded his approval, "Detailed observation will come with time. For now, tell me how many agents are walking on the grounds right now, within our line of sight?"

She instinctively glanced to the side to look but he moved in front of her again, blocking her vision.

"Don't look now, that's cheating. The point is- on your way walking to the courtyard you should have been aware of who was in your field of vision. So tell me how many you can remember."

Emily bit the inside of her cheek and ignored the smell of his cologne that kept wafting toward her. "I remember five."

He stepped to the side and motioned for her to look around. Her eyes scanned the well tended grounds and was a little shocked when she counted eight. Nine including the one standing next to her.

"Observing also entails reading. It's customary for guests at the estate who are staying for any period of time- family of the Ambassador included- to be given an itinerary of security measures, rules and regulations. If you read yours you would have known that. At least eight agents are to be patrolling the grounds at any given time."

She chewed her lip with disdain.

"How many exits are in the estate? How many windows? How many specific routes of egress on each floor and where are their location?"

"Alright, alright- I get the idea." She said. Her mind was whirling with all of this new information. She had always known about the importance of being aware of your surroundings- but how many years had she been at that estate on and off? How many exits were there on each floor? What if there was a fire? She should know these things, and it was starting to make her a little disconcerted to think she didn't know the answer.

She was still pondering that fact when Hotch quickly closed the little distance between the two and pushed her roughly into the bushes that lined the courtyard, diving in after her. Twigs and thorns scratched at their exposed skin.

"WHAT THE-"

He silenced her by putting his finger to her lips, and making eye contact momentarily. His eyes were apologetic, and quickly glanced back toward the other side of the courtyard. She followed his gaze and saw her mother walking briskly from the estate to her vehicle in the drive. It seemed she had important business to attend to from the speed in which she was walking.

"You...never got permission from my mother, did you?" Emily chuckled quietly.

"...Very astute." He responded stoically. She watched his brow furrow as he smacked some thorns haughtily, annoyance gradually showing on his face.

Emily started to laugh, and after a few moments, she saw his shoulders bounce up and down as he silently chuckled with her. They looked ridiculous. He shook his head and continued to watch as the Ambassador's vehicle pulled away. Once the coast was clear, and no agent's in sight, the two popped out of the bushes as if it was the most normal thing to do. Emily brushed off all of the twigs and leaves that had accumulated on her clothing, but her smile still remained.

This was actually really fun. How long had it been since she actually had enjoyed herself while at her mother's house? She could only really ever remember being happy at school, away from the life her mother had forced her in. Asking Hotch to be her bodyguard had been one of the best decisions she had made so far since arriving here.

She practiced her observation skills discreetly. He was very easy on the eyes. Tall, handsome, and reserved most of the time. He made efficient work of brushing the leaves and twigs off of his clothes and ventilated his collar. His voice was low and reserved most of the time too. She had never witnessed any outburst, or loss of control. He seemed to have his emotions in check at all times. Even when they had been at the hold-up at the bookstore, she remembered him gently touching her shoulder and walking past her to deal with the situation. And did he deal with the situation. It had been flawless, a choreographed fight from a movie. He was quick and confident. How on earth did his ex-wife not appreciate that?

How on earth was he single? Wait! Was he single? It seemed like it when she had helped him move his things to the estate. She hadn't been aware of any other photos or female clothing at his apartment. Thinking back on it now, she wished she was more observant then.

"I wonder what my mother would say if she found out you were teaching me defense skills without her knowledge." She wondered aloud.

Hotch turned to face her, "It's best we don't find out."

"How do you feel keeping secrets from the Ambassador?" Emily pryed, observing him for a reaction.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, and rested his hands on his hips. "I didn't ask because I knew she would decline my suggestion, and in weighing the pros and cons of teaching you to fight, I decided to...make an executive decision...I don't like it, but it involves your safety so I am comfortable with it."

Prentiss nodded acknowledging the logic. "Fair enough."

Hotch stepped back a couple feet, and looked up at her, "Now, first rule of defense..."

Prentiss eagerly awaited for him to continue, watching him close the distance once again, and grabbed her wrist. She waited for him to finish what he was saying, until she realized...that was a mistake. He slipped his leg behind her feet and used his other hand to push her shoulder back and she landed hard on the ground.

She shot a dirty look up at him, slowly picking herself up.

"Don't freeze."

Emily scowled, "I thought you were going to finish what you were saying..."

"It doesn't matter what I'm saying. People are crafty. They will trick you, distract you- they will do whatever they can to get you off your guard. So what if I was still talking? Observe their non-verbal communication; their body language. Even if someone is talking, their bodies and their movements will reveal their true feelings and intentions."

Prentiss nodded, "Okay...makes sense."

Hotch pointed to her feet, "Feet and legs are always the most honest part of your body. Your feet are pointed toward me, which makes me believe I have your full attention, your committed to our conversation. If you weren't, your torso would be facing me, but your feet would be pointed away, or toward the nearest exit."

Prentiss looked down at her feet. His were pointed toward her too.

"Take time to study people. It can help keep you safe, and help you in every day occurrences too. You can read if people are comfortable with your conversation, or uncomfortable, if they disagree with a statement you make, or feel distressed. The more you practice, the better you'll be."

Emily remembered her mother teaching her something similar to what he had said. Body language, or what he had called non-verbal communication, was a skill her mother was quite good at reading. She always knew when Emily did something wrong. There was no lying to the woman.

"So, when someone starts coming toward you, or making an aggressive movement toward you, don't freeze. You have two options. Fight or flight."

Emily grinned wickedly, "Oh I'm gonna fight..." She got into the basic fighting position Agent Guerrero had taught her years ago.

"Think about this carefully..." He said, a twinkle becoming quite visible in his eyes.

Prentiss lunged toward him...

She found herself on the ground once again, a bruise no doubt would be forming on her backside tomorrow. She huffed and blew the hair out of her face, and stood back up.

"If I were about to attack you, you need to make sure that your honest with yourself and your abilities. Are you reasonably sure you can take on your opponent, or would it be safer to run? Do you have a choice between the two? Those are the questions that should be going through your head."

"Well, at this rate, I'm going to have run away from everything." She growled.

Hotch smirked, and picked a twig out of her hair, apparently it had still been stuck in there from earlier. He tossed it casually on the ground.

Emily was very aware of how close he was, and her body went rigid. She couldn't tell if it was because he was so close that she could smell his cologne, or if he was so close he might flip her over again.

"Get in your fighting stance."

She did as she was told, her left foot in front of her and her right foot a comfortable distance behind, ready to move forward or backward at any moment.

"Good." He said, and stood in front of her. "Now, throw a punch."

Emily didn't need telling twice. She had been flipped over twice, and was looking for a little payback.

She threw a punch at his chest, and he easily side stepped, and blocked. That... had not been as satisfying as she had hoped it would be.

"When you punch, aim for the face. Hit me in the chest all you want, that's not going to make me give you any sort of respectable fear. You want to punch hard, fast, and in a place that is going to do damage. The face, head, neck, and abdomen are all good areas to punch." He said, walking to stand next to her. "When you punch, you want to turn your hip. That's where your power comes from. "

He showed her, doing a quick punch in the air, rotating his hips like he had mentioned. He went on covering the basic movements for almost an hour and a half. Emily was pleased to see she was picking it up quickly. Even though she didn't quite get the revenge she was hoping for, she had gained a lot of useful knowledge.

"You did really good today, Prentiss."

"Thanks." She smiled, "I've learned a lot!"

"We can do this a few times a week, when you have some free time in the mornings if you'd like."

Prentiss nodded eagerly, "I'd love that!"

After Hotch had collected his things, and donned his suit jacket back on he had made his way back up to his office where his usual counterpart awaited his return. The gala was coming up and he needed to start planning the security measures and obtain a list of the attendee's, and do various background checks. It was a lot to do.

"What's the gala for anyway?" Agent Wade Manelli asked, sitting in the chair across from Hotch's desk sifting through some papers.

"To my knowledge, it's a fundraiser event. They have one every year, Manelli. You seem so surprised." He said, wryly.

Manelli huffed, "Alot of work for clinkin' glasses and makin' nice with people you don't know. I don't get how ambassador's and politicians do it. Makes me nauseated."

"I would be lying if I told you I enjoy them, but regardless..." He handed the agent the list of attendee's. "These need background checks."

Manelli didn't grab it. He just stared as the list fell onto the pile of papers that was steadily growing in front of him. It reflected his level of anxiety.

"That's the list of non-essential staff we have working the gala."

Manelli swiped the papers from the top of the pile like a child and scanned the names. It was a list of catering staff, musicians, waiting staff and more. They were all french companies chosen by the Ambassador's aide to help represent the continued relations with the prime minister and his country.

"Can I just quit?" Manelli muttered, returning the paper to the pile.

"No."

A few hours had gone by, and Agent Manelli had left leaving Hotch alone with his thoughts. He drank some coffee and smiled slightly. He kept seeing Prentiss' face as he flipped her onto the ground. Ahh, it had been priceless.

For a beginner with little experience, she seemed to be a natural. She picked up on techniques quickly. She couldn't punch her way out of a paper bag to begin with, and now she was throwing them confidently, and correctly.

She seemed genuinely interested to learn to defend herself, and he thought it was a disservice to not teach her something. She had begged him to teach her, and how could he say no to those dark pleading eyes?

Whoa...

His body froze in the chair. That was a dangerous thought. Yes, he could appreciate her vivacious spirit, and lean frame, and dark wavy hair that perfectly framed her face...

Wasn't there supposed to be a but in there?

He rubbed his tired eyes. Maybe he just needed more coffee. Yes. That was it...

He stood up and made his way to the door, mug in hand. He was about to open it when it came swinging out, knocking his coffee mug onto the floor with a crash. His jaw clenched and his infamous glare went from the mug to the guilty-looking young woman in front of him.

"Prentiss..."

Emily gave him a shocked look. "I am so sorry!" She rushed down to pick up the scattered remains of the mug and only succeeded in knocking her head with his, who had bent down at the same time.

Hotch rubbed his head, and glared at her. Sure, she didn't do this on purpose, but what perfect timing to appear out of nowhere while he was trying to shuffle away his most recent thoughts about her. He brushed her hand away from the broken pieces, muttering he had it. He noted her skin was soft.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were right behind the door..." She apologized, biting her lower lip as she looked at him.

Hotch ignored her apology, focusing on picking the pieces up and throwing them away in the trashcan. He stood and brushed his hands off on his pants.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

They both stood there rather awkwardly for a moment, before Hotch broke the silence.

"Did you...need something?"

Prentiss' eyes widened. "Oh! Yes."

He looked at her expectantly.

"My...mother was wanting to go riding on the property this afternoon, and wanted me to accompany her. I thought I would give you a heads up."

Riding? He scrunched his eyebrows.

"You...have ridden before, haven't you?" She asked, his confusion apparently delighting her from the way her lips turned up into a smirk.

Then it dawned on him. He had heard some of his agents talk about the Ambassador's love for horseback riding, especially before big events. It was her way of relaxing. The property jutted against the outskirts of the streets of Paris, and in the back it had access to miles of woods, and pastures. Of course when she rode, a plethora of agents did as well, and let's just say some weren't quite cut out for it.

He suddenly realized his current assignment was a lot more of a learning curve then what he originally thought. Panic started to rise inside of him, but he squashed it instantly. He was the Head of Security. He could wreck a face with a book. He even moved half way across the world to start over after Hailey left him. How hard could it really be?

He felt the panic return when the scent of horse filled his nose as he walked through the barn. Prentiss and the Ambassador had already begun to put tack on their respective horses. He was just trying to decide which one wouldn't throw him off.

He stopped in front of a tall grey mare. Her long nose poked out over the door and sniffed his hand. He swallowed hard. This is fine. His eyes looked up at the mare's. She didn't seem hostile. She seemed relaxed, lazily chewing on some alfalfa. Maybe, she would just walk behind the other horses in a line like he had seen in the movies and everything would be fine.

He heard slow clopping come from the hallway toward him, and saw Prentiss smiling deviously at him as she lead her horse next to her.

"Have you picked one yet?"

He gave her a sheepish look, and uncertainly pointed to the grey mare. This is fine...he reminded himself.

Prentiss tied the lead to her horse to a post and walked over to the mare. She gave an approving nod. "She's patient, but...she can be a little independent. This should be fun!"

Hotch snapped his head to face her.

"Independent? What's that mean?" The panic was returning. His heartbeat quickened, and his tie felt too tight. Why was his tie too tight?!

His face was set in a permanent frown. His jaw was clenched so hard, it was beginning to ache. His pale hands held the reigns in a death grip. The smell of the leather saddle did nothing but raise his anxiety level. This is NOT okay.

Not only did he decide to block out the memory of attempting to mount the horse, he wanted this whole horrible experience to be over with, and they hadn't even left the barn. Prentiss and the Ambassador sat on their respective horses with shit-eating grins.

"I take it this is your first time, Agent Hotchner?" Ambassador Prentiss commented, not bothering to hide the amusement in her face.

Prentiss barked out a very un-ladylike laugh that earned her a disapproving look from her mother, "It's okay. All the agent's struggle when they first ride. That's why horse back riding is so enjoyable for us. We get to see how uncomfortable it makes you guys, and the occasional agent that gets bucked off and lands on the ground in a heap is also quite amusing."

Hotch clenched his jaw even harder. He was so glad they were having the time of their lives, because he would never be doing this again.

"Are you ready, Ambassador?"

Hotch's eyes glanced over at the voice and recognized him as Agent David Callahan. He instantly noticed Prentiss become quite tense in her saddle when she heard his voice. He thought this to be the perfect time to observe the two's interactions, momentarily forgetting his terrifying situation.

"Ms. Prentiss."

Prentiss nodded, but said no words.

Callahan then looked over at him. "I never thought I'd be seeing my boss riding a horse! I always pegged you to be a city fella."

Hotch's irritation rose, so he sat up straighter. "Callahan..."

Emily and the Ambassador had begun walking the trail, the two horses they rode walking comfortably next to each other. A soft murmuring was exchanged between the two, and Hotch could tell Prentiss had loosened up a little when Callahan and him acquired some distance behind them. They stayed alert scanning the woods for would-be danger and so far, his horse seemed very cooperative.

Callahan broke the silence.

"How are you transitioning, sir?"

"Excuse me?"

"Having to guard Ms. Prentiss. She can be difficult when she wants to be. Would dodge a lot of our security when she was growing up. You know, rebellious years." He said, almost fondly.

"I'm fine, thanks." He said shortly. Then he added, "I heard you have known the Ambassador and Ms. Prentiss for quite some time."

Callahan nodded, "Almost 10 years now. It hasn't been easy. Especially when I was assigned to Ms. Prentiss. She's a strong-willed one. Has a lot of fire in her... feisty even."

Hotch watched the other agent as he spoke. Callahan stared at Prentiss the whole time, never breaking from her. It made him uneasy. So he decided to do a little digging.

"How long were you assigned to her?"

"Until she left for college. Honestly, I was surprised to see she was back. I was a little disappointing that I wasn't re-assigned to her." He said, turning his gaze toward him. His eyes seemed hard for a moment. "I heard she specifically requested you."

Hotch stared back at him, almost challengingly. "Do you have any idea why she wouldn't want you to be re-assigned to her?" He didn't confirm nor deny his statement.

Callahan scoffed,"No idea. She's coy. Bit of a tease at times. Who knows what goes through her head."

Hotch furrowed his brow. That definitely didn't sit well with him.

"Callahan."

Callahan looked at him once more.

"I'm only going to say this once. Stay away from her."

Callahan smirked, "Lil tough to do living under the same roof."

Hotch glared at him, "If you value your career, you'll find away."

They continued staring each other down until the ambassador's voice broke the tension.

"Come, Callahan. I want to see the strawberry tree's."

Hotch gave Callahan one more warning glare before he watched the two wind down a trail that dissapeared through a thick patch of tree's. He usually would wait to scold or threaten one of his men once he had concrete evidence, but Prentiss' reactions to even being in the same vicinity, and Callahan's inappropriate comments sealed the deal. That was enough evidence to approach him about it.

He noticed a frown on her usual perky face. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, "Leave it to my mother to have a civil conversation..." She turned her horse to walk next to his. "Boring conversation anyway."

Hotch nodded understandingly. He knew her relationship with her mother was strained.

"So...how's your predicament going?" She asked, her frown curling up.

Hotch exhaled heavily. "It's fine."

Prentiss arched her eyebrow, "Your non-verbal communication says otherwise."

Hotch shot a glare at her causing her to laugh. It was so abrupt, it scared both of the horses. His mare snapped her head back and side-stepped away from her. Hotch instantly froze in his saddle, and his legs held the mare in a death grip. He didn't even breathe. Prentiss only laughed harder.

"Okay, okay, I'm done." She said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Good, let's head back." He quickly suggested, but Prentiss would be having none of that.

"Nope, the trail goes on for another couple of miles before it starts to head back. Best get comfortable."

Hotch visibly deflated, but kept his opposing thoughts to himself.

If you could push past the potential to be bucked off and trampled to death, he could tell why some people seemed to enjoy it. He would not be one of them.

His mare stopped and pulled away from Prentiss' horse. She saw a scrumptious patch of grass, and began to munch at it.

"Hey! Stop!" He said, frantically, pulling his reigns the other way. The horse ignored him.

"Halt...heel..." He muttered under his breath, frustrated by the lack of control he had in his life at this very moment. He could hop off...he could make a run for it...what if it chased him? Wait? Did horses chase people?

"She's not a dog, Hotch." Prentiss said, shaking her head.

Finally, he won, and his mare decided to walk next to the other horse. Or rather, she got annoyed with him pulling on the reigns that she finally decided to go back to Prentiss.

"You're like a pro already." She teased. "Now for the next challenge!"

Hotch looked at her horrified, "What?"

Prentiss clicked her mouth and broke out into a trot, causing his mare to step up her pace and trot behind her.

Hotch was jostled up and down, he felt like a pinball. The horse seemed more at ease than he did, and she was carrying him! His teeth rattled in his skull.

"Isn't this fun!" She yelled back to him, swiveling to look back at him.

Hotch could only manage to glare at her, as he concentrated on not falling off and ending his short life.

At about mid-afternoon they returned to the barn. Hotch was only too happy as he struggled off of his saddle. Prentiss held his horse steady, as she laughed at him.

Finally Hotch was on solid ground. Sweet. Solid. Ground. His legs felt permanently bow-legged, and his ass was going to be sore for awhile. How did his life ever get so out of control? He looked back at her annoyed, and before he could even say anything, she smiled.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

Hope you enjoyed it! Read and review! Tell me what you think! I will do my best to keep posting weekly! Thank you! :3