Forward

Chapter 8

December 8, 2011

Emily doesn't expect the knock on her door at 9am.

It's after Hotch's departure time – her alarm didn't go off and she missed it so now she's stuck around her apartment all day, that's their deal – and she can't think of any one else who would come to visit. Her mother maybe, but she's pretty sure her mother's in the Ukraine.

Her curiosity piques when she looks through the peephole, gun in hand because she can't stop being suspicious, and sees a pimply faced kid impatiently tapping his foot. In his hand, is a bouquet of daffodils. Her eyebrows hit her hairline as she works on the locks and chains before pulling open the door.

"Emily Prentiss?"

"Yes," she says carefully, hiding her gun behind the open door. It's possible the kid's harmless.

"Delivery," he replies, obnoxiously snapping a wad of gum in his mouth. She's tempted to make a smartass comment around the fact that she can obviously see he's got a delivery, but refrains. Instead, she takes the bouquet and lays it on the hutch just inside the door, returning with a couple of bucks. At least he tips his ball cap on his way out.

She deals with the locks then all but dives for the flowers, searching through them as she carries them to the kitchen. She finds the little card in the plastic trident and opens it awkwardly. A piece of newspaper falls to the floor as she opens the card.

Date #1?

Her heart pounding, she reaches down for the newspaper clipping. It's an ad from the paper for a caroling concert down at the Mall tonight. She breathes out a shaky breath.

Hotch just asked her on a date.

Her hand goes to her heart, absently brushing against the scar of the four leaf clover as she goes. Her skin is vibrating and she can feel her heart thumping through her chest. A real, honest to goodness date.

Oh my God.

She calls him, just to make sure.

"Hotchner."

"You sent me flowers." Huh. The awe and reverence wasn't supposed to be there. She can almost see his eyes clearing as his mind shifts to the conversation, identifies the voice on the phone. It isn't often that he answers without checking the ID first.

"Emily."

She swallows. "You sent me flowers." God, she feels like a fifteen year old.

"I haven't been out of the dating game that long," he says on the other end of the phone.

She's having a very difficult time breathing. "Did you guess?"

"Asked JJ."

They both laugh and Emily's glad for it. The idea that he could have guessed her favourite flower, or that she'd somehow let it slip over the years and he'd stored that knowledge away is a little scary. She's suddenly grateful that they're not making their relationship a secret.

"So?" he asks.

"Yes," she breathes.

There's an actual hitch that she can hear on the other end of the line.

Oh God.

It's real.

"I'll pick you up at seven?" he inquires. "We can take the Metro."

"Dinner?"

"Not this time."

She's actually kind of grateful for that. She also understands. He has to be able to get away from the office, to go home, change… And adding dinner puts unwanted pressure on both of them. It's not supposed to be difficult, she realizes, just an easy night out with caroling and company.

"Dress warm," he murmurs into the phone.

She smiles to herself, and patently ignores the way her fingers curl tighter around her own cell. "I think I have some leg warmers in my closet."

It makes him laugh, which had been her intended goal. "I'll see you at seven."

. . . . .

Seven takes its bloody time. They're still off rotation since Emily's out – they'll be back on rotation on Monday after her stitches are removed – so it's just paperwork and consults, the kind of stuff that most of them hate. It's not as entertaining or all-consuming as an actual case, and while they're not happy every time a case comes across their desks, the fact that they have something else to focus on is a big deal to them all.

Paperwork always seems so mundane.

So he's glad to get out of the office.

Jessica's okay with watching Jack for the night. She'd asked him about it, about Emily, and he'd given her a bare bones story. Jessica had seemed both happy and sad and Aaron can totally understand that. There is a part of him that feels like moving on with Emily means he's losing a part of Haley. At the same time, he knows that no one really expects him to be in love with a ghost for the rest of his life. Especially not a ghost that walked out and took his son.

"I like her," Jessica had said into the phone when Aaron had called. "She's good for Jack."

She's good for Aaron too.

Eventually, though, seven arrives, and as it does, he knocks briskly on Emily's apartment door. He's glad she had to get a new apartment, actually. He's not sure how he would have felt walking up to a door that Ian Doyle had known about. Damn spectre.

But all of his dark thoughts virtually disintegrate when Emily pulls open the door, a bright smile on her face. She darts out to press a kiss to his cheek, lingering.

"Hi."

She cannot keep doing this.

His hands fall to her hips, kind of keeping her balance since she's on her toes, her mouth at his ear. "Hi."

Then she's skipping back a few steps, leaving the door open for him to step through. He can see the daffodils on her little coffee table and it makes him smile. A place of prominence. He likes that.

"Ready to go?"

Aaron looks back at her, watching her wind a scarf around her neck single-handedly, heavy boots on her feet. She shrugs into her coat and he can't help stepping forward, helping slide the left shoulder over her injured arm. Her hand falls away as he does up the buttons, her eyes dark. He's living a cliché isn't he, looking into those eyes. He forces himself to make rather quick work of the buttons then drops his hand. She catches it, her skin warm against his, her cheeks pink. He tugs her out the door to quell the temptation to actually kiss her, to keep her there. Just over fifteen days, he reminds himself.

She releases his hand to lock her door and he helps her tug on a mitten, even though they have a bit of a drive yet. She lets him buy her Metro ticket, because she knows she's going to want something warm and fully intends to treat on that one. Sure, it's a date, but if the hot beverage is going to be her idea, she's going to insist on paying for it.

He presses against her for the ride to Smithsonian station, his left to her right. They talk about her stitches, the day in the office, Jack, and it's easy. In some ways it makes sense. They are friends, were friends before they decided to see about something more. Why shouldn't it be easy to talk to each other?

There's a biting wind when they step out of the station. Sometimes, the Mall acts as a bit of a wind tunnel, especially by the museums. Tall buildings on either side, the Capitol at one end… She shivers and a second later, he's got his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into him and guiding her along. It's not like she needs the help – there's a huge crowd gathering by a raised stage, it doesn't take a genius – but she feels her cheeks heat. She smiles up at him, struck by the fact that this is what it could be like.

She pushes up to her toes again, brushing her lips against his cheek. "Thank you."

He looks down curiously.

She just offers a shrug. She's not exactly sure what she's thanking him for either, she just knows she needs to. For saving her maybe, showing her that there's more, pushing her to fight, being by her side every step of the way… There's a million things.

When the caroling starts, she's absolutely enthralled and Aaron cannot help watching her instead. She hums along with some of the songs, eyes shining in the lights from the stage and if he wasn't already pretty sure he'd slipped into something more than just 'like' with her, he knows he would be a goner now.

They stay in DC late at a coffee shop, just barely catching the last Metro, laughing and running to ensure they're on it. It's not a packed train, but they stay standing, just so he can hold her close, her forehead against his shoulder. He looks over to her when they climb into the car, idling for a few minutes to let it heat.

"Stay tonight."

Her head snaps up as she looks at him in surprise. There's a heat underneath that shock, the same one that crackling over his skin. "It's not a good idea."

Oh, it's a fantastic idea, they both know it. But he can also recognize what she's not saying. It's not time yet. Not for them, not for this. Still, he reaches over, takes her good hand. "Emily."

She groans, and his eyes close. They're killing each other at this rate.

He sighs, putting the car in gear. "You're right. Absolutely right."

They're going to burn each other alive.

"Hey."

He looks over when he stops at the edge of the parking lot, stopping to check before pulling out into traffic.

"I want to," she says quietly.

He smiles. "I know."

She's silent for the rest of the ride and he gets a little nervous, like he's overstepped a line he hadn't known was there. When he pulls up in front of her building though, she turns to look at him, nerves in her eyes.

"Do you want to come up?"

Oh.

Oh!

Huh.

He pulls into a visitor's parking space and they climb out together, in unison because how many SUVs have the exited simultaneously in their time together? They climb to her apartment, and she unlocks the door. He helps her with her coat again, because she's still one-armed.

"What time do you have to be home?" she asks as he sheds his own coat.

"Jack's with Jessica," he replies, knowing he and Jessica had talked about Jack spending the night, just in case. It's easier for both of them if he does and Jess can handle dropping him off at school in the morning.

She wonders if he realizes he's stalking towards her, backing her up against the wall. There's a spark of something in his gaze when her breath catches and her back impacts the sturdy surface. This was why it was an entirely bad idea. Still, she doesn't stop him when he leans in, doesn't put a hand on his chest. Instead, it slides around his neck, fingers dipping into the collar of his sweater.

Then he's kissing her. There's a little bit of frantic passion to it, because they're both away from the office, away from the restraint, and he's had her so close all night, touching her, guiding her, smelling her… She doesn't withdraw. Instead, she responds with a wanton heat that has his heart jumping in his chest. She can feel it, he knows, and he doesn't damn well care.

He nudges her to the couch, catching and releasing her mouth, crossing his fingers and hoping it'll help keep him in check.

Because he knows he's definitely losing his mind.


Here's the deal: you kill me, I can't write the rest of this. Just sayin'.

Mostly because I know this is a mean spot to leave you. It's also an aberration. It'll make sense, you'll see. But come on. If I've got them set up such that they're essentially in love with each other for like a year, that heat's gotta burn out somewhere. So voila. And no, it's not a cliffhanger. One chapter for each day, remember.

But (finally!) Em gets her stitches out tomorrow. It is very difficult to do things like this while reminding yourself she's wearing a sling. Gah. But it's been a useful little thing.

Hope this keeps with your expectations!