Stepping into his home at exactly six fifty-eight that evening, Aaron placed his keys on the hook he had installed on the wall and quickly typed in the passcode to arm the security system. He had made at least eight calls to the house that day to make sure that Emily and the two children were ok, knowing that because Johnny hadn't been found yet Emily was having a hard time trying to get comfortable.

"Emily?" he called out, walking into the living room and locking his gun in the living room safe. "You here?"

"In the dining room."

The father of one frowned, his hands smoothing down his slightly creased jacket lapels before starting towards the dining room. "Have you been ok today? You didn't say much on the phone other than Jack had fallen asleep in the middle of the movie," he chuckled, his eyes widening just slightly as he turned into the room that he had converted just a year prior into the formal dining hall. "What is this?"

Emily grinned to the older man, her hands gesturing to the mahogany table she had filled up with freshly made food. "Welcome home," she smiled, pulling out the chair that sat at the head of the table. "Jack informed me on all your favorite foods, and I took the liberty of borrowing the second car to pick up everything I needed to make them. So come sit."

Aaron shook his head, his hand setting itself to the younger brunette's shoulder. "You didn't need to do this."

"Shut up," she sighed, sharing a smile with the FBI agent when she heard him chuckle. "Just sit down and enjoy my meal."

Jack looked up from his plate and feverishly nodded his head. "Daddy, Em'ly's rice is so good."

"It's so good?"

Jack smiled. "So good," he nodded, hearing the teenager at his side do her best to smother her chuckle. "And the bread's good too, Em'ly!"

Emily blew a kiss to the little blond boy as she sat down in her seat. "Thank you sweetheart. I made it specially for you."

Glancing to his right, the brunette father locked eyes with the teenager that was becoming a fast friend to his son. "How's your hand," he nodded. "Have you been icing it?"

"Mmhmm," she mumbled, the rice her mother had made shoved between her cheeks.

Aaron smiled as he heard her try to mumble a thank you, and he took her glass and filled it with iced tea so she knew he had heard her.

Emily's eyes brightened at the sight of the two sharing a smile, her fingers curled around her knife and fork as she cut into the chicken parmesan. "So how was your day? Any new cases?"

"Just paperwork. What did you do all day?"

"Actually," the brunette started, her eyes down on the plate she had made for herself, "I took the paper you were reading this morning and looked in the ads for a job."

Aaron looked up from his food, surprise written over his stoic face. "You did?"

"Well yeah, I can't just be a homebody forever. I'm going to need a job so I can save up enough money to get a home for me and Amelia." Emily shared a gentle look with the older man, her heart racing behind her breastbone at the intense look she saw in his eyes. "I barely have enough savings from the restaurant to last me a month's rent."

"I thought we talked about this though. It's not safe enough for you to not be here until we find Johnny."

Emily immediately nodded her head, keeping her eyes trained on those of the older man. "No, I know. But we can't stay here forever and I'm going to need a paycheck every other week to keep Mia and I afloat once we're on our own."

Jack looked up from his second piece of Emily's homemade bread and grinned at the brunette woman. "I t'ink you could be a cook, Em'ly! You makes real good food."

"I do?" The chocolate eyed woman who had dropped her jaw for effect gave a wink, laughing in tune with the young boy who continued to stuff the pieces of bread into his mouth. "Well then I guess it's a good thing that I applied to be a chef."

"Yeah!"

Aaron's brow furrowed. "You want to be a chef?"

Emily leaned forward with a smirk, her fork pointing at the older brunette as she swallowed a piece of broccoli. "You finish your meal that I slaved all day over and tell me that I shouldn't be a cook."