December 20th, 2011
Hotch/Prentiss
"Done!" Emily stepped back from the Christmas tree, grinning as she gazed at the decorations. Her ornaments now mingled in alongside Hotch and Jack's.
Hotch came to stand next to her, a hand on her back. "Looks good," he noted. "Much more complete now." He marveled at how full the tree looked with all its decorations. It had been a while since his family's tree had looked so festive – he'd nearly forgotten how much he enjoyed getting ready for the holidays.
"Thank you for letting me join in on this," Emily said as she gazed up at Hotch, pressing up against his side.
"Of course," Hotch replied. "It's been over a year now. I'd say it's about time you started joining in on the festivities."
Emily bit her lip then, intense emotion flooding through her. Memories of sitting in her home in Paris in early September flooded her brain. She'd been talking with Hotch then, and at one point he'd started talking about Jack's new school year. That made her think of fall, and thoughts of fall turned to winter, and thoughts of winter turned to the holidays, and she'd started to wonder and worry… What if I never get out of here?
But I am here. In the U.S. With Aaron, and my friends. Home for the holidays.
She felt a sudden nudge at her shoulder.
"You okay?" Hotch asked, peering down at her.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about how nice it is to be here."
"It's nice to have you here," Hotch said softly, almost to himself. He turned away for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes, before focusing on her again. "Wait here."
Emily found herself standing alone in the center of the living room, an amused look on her face as she listened to the soft rustling and rummaging from Hotch's bedroom down the hall. A few seconds later, there was the sound of footsteps, and she turned as she heard Hotch enter the room again. He strode over to her, grabbed her hand, and placed a small white box in it.
She looked at him curiously.
"Open it," he gently urged her. She did, and found herself staring down at…
"A key?" Another look, this one slightly wary and confused.
"A key to this place. Emily, I…I want you to move in with me."
Emily stood before him, frozen in place and slack-jawed.
He's serious about this? Well, of course he is. He's got to be. Aaron doesn't make jokes.
"Emily?" His voice brought her back. She blinked.
"…what?"
She shifted uncomfortably then, feeling the full weight of the infamous Hotchner gaze as he scrutinized her. He probably stared for only a few seconds, but it sure felt longer than that.
"Emily…" Hotch repeated, drawing out the name in that low, steady tone. "If you're not ready for this, it's okay. I understand."
"No, that's not…I mean, I just don't know if…I think I am…I…" Emily clamped her mouth shut, throwing her arms out in an exasperated motion.
"It's okay, really. I know you've been through a lot this year, and you may need more time to…" He paused, taking a small breath. "…to adjust to being back."
Finally, Emily found her voice again. "It's not that, Aaron. I mean, I do still need to deal with everything that's happened, you're right about that. But that's not the issue."
"What is the issue?"
Emily would never cease to be amused by how Hotch could still sound so "boss-like" even in a romantic, or potentially romantic, setting. It was incredibly weird, and yet…there was an odd little thrill about it.
She sighed. "It's just weird to think we're at this step. I've never really been much of a commitment sort of person – I know that sounds incredibly cliché, but it's true."
"I believe you," Hotch replied. Her trust issues, her insecurities, they'd never been a secret with Hotch (he was a profiler, after all, even if she'd never told him about her problems, he would be able to guess with near certainty what most, if not all of them, were, and what they were about). He'd loved those nights, in the early months of their relationship, when they'd have long talks late into the night.
He talked about Haley, about Jack, about all his concerns involving the shakeups and uncertainties about his job, his leadership. She talked about her childhood, her moving around, went in depth about why the exorcism case had bothered her so much (and as a result, Hotch had felt incredibly guilty for responding as he did to her at various points throughout the case, and had apologized, despite her protests).
Then the whole thing with Ian Doyle had happened. Hotch had to learn to deal with his own trust issues upon finding out about that part of her past, and she had to learn to trust him when he hid her away for seven months.
Hotch tried not to think about those days too much. Having to communicate with her solely by phone or computer. Worrying about her safety, wondering if Doyle would find her. Trying to calm her down on the days she'd cry and talk about missing her friends, begging him to tell her how they were and what was going on in their lives. Trying to reassure her on the nights she'd yell at him, cursing him for putting her in this position to begin with, allowing himself to be her proverbial punching bag for all her frustrations and fears.
Then she'd "come back from the dead", and that had its own incredibly awkward moments. She'd felt the cold response of her friends, which had only fueled her personal issues even more. It took a while for her and Hotch to start regaining some proper footing in their relationship, and they still had a ways to go. But the signs had seemed promising thus far, and Hotch had continued to hold on to hope. He'd already lost someone he loved once. He'd be damned if he'd let another woman slip through his fingers.
"I can wait," he continued. "I don't want to pressure you."
"You're not, Aaron. You've been incredibly wonderful to me. You've put up with so much stuff with me, and I appreciate it." She steeled herself for her next words. "I just…don't know if I'm quite there yet."
Hotch tried to keep his face neutral, tried to put on a reassuring tone. "I understand," he said once again. The ache in his chest, however, refused to accept his words.
"Then again…"
Hotch's eyebrows went up slightly, the aching feeling dulling somewhat.
"I may have issues with commitment, but I am something of a risk-taker. I think I've proven that a time or two in the field?" She threw Hotch that teasing, cheeky grin that never failed to make the otherwise strong man weak in the knees.
"That you have." Hotch nodded, smirking in response.
"How about a compromise? We can give this 'moving in' thing a trial run – say, a month or so? Test it out, see how it goes?"
Hotch considered this. "Deal," he finally noted, the smile lighting up his entire face now. He walked towards her, enveloping her in a hug, clutching her a little tighter when he felt her arms slip around his waist, beginning to rub his back. He stroked her soft, silky hair, kissing her neck.
"It'll be nice to wake up next to you on Christmas morning." And somehow, he sensed it would be the first of many Christmas mornings together.
"Definitely," Emily murmured, enjoying the feel of Hotch's hands on her hair and her back, the warmth of being in his arms. She made a mental note to have her camera on hand come Christmas morning. That beret she'd picked up in Paris was going to look really good on Hotch…
