Now on with the romance... :-)

Chapter 9: Welcome Home Emily

Emily's transfer to the DC hospital later that day coincided with her starting to feel better and not so much in the haze of her pain medication anymore. Unfortunately for the hospital personnel, a clearer mind also meant that she was becoming a bad patient; getting annoyed with anyone telling her that they couldn't release her yet, or that she needed to rest some more.

She was fine. She had lived through worst.

Her annoyance was somewhat lessened when she received a call from her mother. She had been on her list, so she had known that Emily had survived the previous year's injuries, but the two women had had no contact during Emily's exile. Though the conversation felt a little strained – they had never been really close – Emily was still touched by her mother taking the initiative to call her. Though Emily had an inkling that Hotch might be behind it.

Before she left North Carolina, her friends had come in to reassure her that they would come and visit her later that night in DC and stay with her if she wanted. It was sweet, but she had been a little more surprised by Porter, Snipe and Mo's coming to sit with her for a few minutes.

"Sorry we couldn't do what you asked," Snipe had said as they stood around her bed.

"What do you mean? You guys were great!" Emily had replied.

"Damian witnessed his father getting killed," Porter explained, "it was the one thing that mattered to you, and we screwed it up."

Emily shook her head. "It was my fault, I'm the one who steered away from the original plan. You did what you had to do, and I'm grateful that you were there when it counted."

"About that… Snipe and I've been arguing about who shot him first- I say it was me, but Snipe swears it was Hotchner." He paused. "Can you believe that? But even if it's true he couldn't have beat me by more than a millisecond."

Emily had smiled slightly at his own particular brand of Porter humor. "Thanks guys."

"I don't suppose our mighty director can convince you to stay, huh?" Porter had asked, turning a little bit more serious.

"I don't think so, no," Emily had replied, smiling a little sadly at their expression. "It's just not who I am anymore."

"It's been an honor, Agent Prentiss," Mo had said first, extending his hand to shake her uninjured one, but then he surprised her by kissing her knuckles. He winked. "Told you I'd collect."

Emily had chuckled a little, then shaken Snipe's hand, and then Porter's. "Thanks, partner," she'd told him.

He'd nodded quickly, and to Emily's utter surprise he'd looked like he'd been fighting tears. He'd always made himself look so tough and unemotional, Emily had the sudden urge to laugh, if only to tease him and lighten the mood.

They'd all gotten distracted by a shy knock on the open door, and Emily had seen Damian stand awkwardly, Maddy at his side, her hand on his shoulder.

"We should go now," Snipe had said. "Welcome home, Emily."

Emily gave the trio another grateful smile. "You take care guys. It's been a privilege."

She'd kept her conversation with Damian light, as she didn't quite feel up to answering his questions, or deal with any residual anger. He'd looked relieved to see that she was okay, but also a little wary, not quite knowing how to act around her. So they talked about anything except what had happened in the park – or before, for that matter. Before he'd left, Emily promised him that they could talk whenever he was ready. Though she didn't have a place to stay anymore, she told him that he could contact Hotch at the FBI, and he would tell him where he could find her, and then they would arrange a visit.

Damian had smiled at this, looking pleased that she wanted to see him again.

"And then we can talk about highschool, and all of your girlfriends, all that stuff that families talk about," Emily had added, his smile brightening even more.

And now she was in her hospital room in DC, alone with her thoughts and small TV, annoyed that she just couldn't go home. But that was just it; she didn't have a home on the east coast anymore. Her mother, who was in Italy for work, had kindly offered that Emily stayed at her place, and Emily was busy thinking about the pros and cons when Garcia, Morgan and Reid appeared in the doorway to her room, each holding a gift of some kind – Morgan had flowers, Garcia had some kind of teddy bear and Reid a 'get well soon' balloon. They looked more rested than they had when she had seen them earlier as they greeted her happily.

Emily was happy for the distraction of their small talk for about half an hour, until they mentioned the BAU.

"I think Dave and Seaver were still busy with their reports. That's what you get when you're a slow writer," Morgan said.

"Yeah, and wasn't Hotch still in his office with Strauss?" Garcia asked conversationally.

"Yeah, I think he was," Reid confirmed, and Emily's interest sharpened at this.

"With Strauss? Why?" she asked, suddenly a little uneasy.

They exchanged looks and shrugs. "Who knows? My guess is that they're discussing your reinstatement or something like that," Morgan replied. He didn't sound worried, but Emily clearly remembered Hotch receiving a call from Strauss the day before – and it had not made him happy.

As if on cue, the phone in her room started ringing and Morgan picked up. "Hotch, yeah we were just… What?" His face fell and Emily sat straighter in her bed. "You've gotta be kidding me! Are you serious? Hotch, she can't do that…Yeah… Okay, but Hotch, come on!..." He sighed. "Okay, I'll tell them. 'Night." He hung up and Emily waited anxiously.

"Strauss just had him suspended!" he said incredulously.

"What! Why?" Reid asked, beating Emily to it by less than a second.

"Something about him going against her order to stay away or something!"

"Oh no! For how long?" Garcia cried.

"He didn't say!" Morgan replied, still a little stunned.

Emily closed her eyes as she shook her head. Of course. He had once more risked his neck for his team – for her. Why did have to do that? Why hadn't he told her that Strauss had been breathing down his neck? Why hadn't he told her that she'd wanted him off the case? Emily would have understood, she would have reassured him that it was okay for him to step away. But no, he had kept everything to himself! Stubborn man!

"He says that Strauss was relieved to hear you were alive, Emily," Morgan added as a second thought.

"Yeah, whatever! Who the hell does she think she is?" Emily replied angrily. "He was just trying to help! That ambitious bi-"

"Emily," Morgan cut her off, "you do know that you are not responsible for what she's doing, right?"

"Like hell I'm not! I'm the one who asked him for help in the first place! Why wouldn't he just tell me? Why couldn't he just go back on his promise?" She was so mad that she barely noticed them exchange awkward glances at this. "I need to call him, I need to-" she started as she reached for the phone by her bed, but Morgan stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Emily, he said he was going home to get some sleep."

"Do you think I care? I need to talk to him, there has to be something I can do-"

Morgan snatched the phone before she could reach it. "Emily, just give him some time. You know how he is, he just needs to process this by himself for a while. Call him tomorrow."

She blew out a breath when she realized that Morgan wouldn't budge, and let herself fall back against her pillows. "Fine."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes, until Reid spoke again. "When are they releasing you?" he asked in a small voice.

Emily sighed. "Tomorrow."

"Where are you going to stay?" Morgan asked, and before Emily could open her mouth, Garcia jumped in.

"At my place, of course," she turned to Emily. "That is, if you want to?"

Emily smiled at her friend gratefully. For some reason she dreaded being alone, so she was relieved to hear Garcia suggest it. "I'd love that, thanks Garcia. But only for a few days, until I get my life back together somewhat."

Garcia took her hand. "You can stay for as long as you want! I'll be the best roommate ever – we can have movie nights, pizza nights, girls' night out…"

Morgan chuckled. "Oh boy, are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into, Prentiss? This is starting to sound like a remake of 'Misery'. A bad one."

Garcia slapped his shoulder playfully. "Don't listen to him! I'll come and pick you up first thing tomorrow!"

They left not long after that, leaving Emily alone with her thoughts once more. She was still mad at Hotch for not telling her. Why hadn't he? She could have made some calls, even go over Strauss' head to make sure that he wouldn't be subjected to any retaliation from her. But that was probably why he hadn't told her, she realized, he probably thought he was doing her a favor by keeping her out of the internal politics of the FBI. Damn it Hotch! She longed to call him and have him explain himself, but Morgan was right. He probably needed some time alone with his son right now. So she told herself that she would call him in the morning.

No opportunity to do that presented itself the next morning, however, as Garcia, Dave and Seaver showed up bright and early, just as the doctor was finishing his examination and the nurse showed her how to properly take care of her bandage and sling. Emily knew all about that – she had experience in that department – but she bore it as patiently as she could, figuring that the better she behaved, the sooner they would release her.

Emily spent the drive to Garcia's apartment content to just listen to the banter and light conversation between her friends, trying to push aside her concern for Hotch and enjoy her friends' company. Dave and Seaver hung around for most of the morning, and then Morgan showed up that afternoon, making sure that Emily was lacking nothing, that she was fed and entertained. It was sweet, but in time she started to find their hovering a little annoying – she felt awful about it, she knew that they were just trying to help, but at one point Emily just had to tell them that really, she was okay and that they just had to stop worrying.

That night she took a long bath, trying to keep her mind from thinking so much about everything while trying to ignore the almost constant pain and tugging she felt in her right arm. However she couldn't quite ignore the sight as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she dried. She touched her shoulder carefully, getting her first good look at the wound. It didn't look so bad, but the stitches would leave a scar, though a smaller one than the one that cut across her abdomen. And it was nothing compared to that awful clover etched into her skin above her heart. She knew some people wore their scars like badges of honor, like something to be proud of, but Emily felt nothing but shame as she looked at them. Would that feeling ever go away? She had always been comfortable in her body – she kept in shape and ate healthy most of the time – but the scars, and in particular the clover, made her feel a self-consciousness that she hadn't experienced since she was a teenager.

She couldn't help but think about Hotch, the only person – the only man – she had ever told about it. She had no reason to, but she couldn't help but wonder how he would feel if he saw it and her other scars. Would he find them repulsive? Would they remind him of Emily's past work when she had pretended to be in love a terrorist? She shivered at the memory, it made her feel dirty.

She sharply shook those thoughts away as she got dressed as best as she could, but she soon realized she'd need some help from Garcia with the bandage and the sling. She should have paid more attention at the hospital…

Garcia had to go back to work the next morning, so Emily was left alone for a while. She still hadn't heard from Hotch, and she was starting to feel uneasy. Was he somehow mad at her? Had she been too forward with her brief kiss? It had been an impulse – a rash decision that she should just do it in case she never got another chance. It had surprised him, that much she'd been able to tell, but his gaze had been impenetrable and she had been unable to see what he was thinking or feeling. So she had done what she did best: compartmentalize and push it aside for now. But now she was starting to feel that maybe she had made a mistake, maybe she had pushed their friendship too far – further than he was ready to take it.

She still longed to call him, but it was delayed once more when she got a call from JJ. It was a wonderful surprise, and they chatted for a while, JJ expressing her joy at hearing that Emily's secret was out and that she was safe again. Her call wasn't all pleasure, however, as she was calling to request that Emily come in to fill in some paperwork - but hey, Emily was ready to do anything to make herself un-dead again. So as soon as she was dressed and ready, she took a cab and spent the day at the State department, enjoying lunch with JJ, reminiscing about the good old days and getting countless stories about Henry.

"I heard Hotch was suspended," JJ said eventually.

Emily shook her head. "Yeah… That's really unfair."

JJ looked empathetic. "I know. I wish there was something I could do, but unfortunately it's out of my reach."

"Yeah, I know. I wish I could have done something too, but he kept it all to himself until it was too late."

JJ chuckled fondly. "Yeah, well, that's Hotch for you."

JJ asked her how the others had reacted to her reappearance, and Emily told her about the team's reactions, and how she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. They were bound to get angry with her eventually. She could tell when they interacted that they had questions, but they were too polite to ask them now. She assumed that when they figured it was time to get an explanation, all hell would break loose.

JJ also asked her what her plans for the future were, but Emily was still in the dark about that. She still hadn't heard anything from the FBI, but she figured it would take time for her paperwork to be processed and she wasn't expecting them to contact her for another few days. Of course she wasn't even sure that they would want her back, but she was at least expecting some kind of formal acknowledgment to welcome her back to the land of the living, or something. So Emily was honest with JJ when she told her that she truly didn't know what her plans were – she was hoping to get reinstated at the BAU, but there had been no development from that quarter. And she figured that with Hotch suspended, her request might be put on hold for a while.

They promised to see each other soon when they parted, and when Emily got to Garcia's place, her friend had not returned from work yet, but had left a message on the answering machine saying that they had a case and that she wouldn't be back for a while- well, she knew how it was.

Emily helped herself to some leftover pizza – Garcia had made good on her promise the night before – and turned on the TV, but she soon became restless, her mind overactive with flashes about today's business, Hotch's suspension, Damian's anger when they had talked the first time, her confrontation with Doyle, the look in his eyes when he thought he'd beat her – and then the shock when she pulled her second gun and pulled the trigger.

She jumped to her feet, grabbed her bag and the keys that Garcia had left for her, and called a cab. About twenty minutes later she was standing outside Hotch's place, facing the door in indecision. Her decision to come here had been far from rational – another impulse - and now that she was here she was starting to doubt the wisdom of her just showing up unannounced.

But then she decided that she'd come all this way, she might as well just go with it. She knocked, and it took only a minute or so before she heard the lock and the door pulled open, revealing a somewhat surprised Hotch.

"Hey," Emily greeted, butterflies dancing frantically in her stomach when she saw him. He still hadn't shaved, and though Emily still loved that look on him, she wondered whether it was a bad omen for how he'd been dealing with his suspension. Whatever the case, he obviously hadn't expected her to come here, as he still hadn't said anything, but merely stood staring at her.

"Can I come in?" Emily asked when she started to get self-conscious under his steady gaze.

"Of course, please," he snapped out of it and stood aside to let her in. "Jack and I just finished eating, but can I offer you anything? We were going to have ice cream for dessert, can I tempt you with some?"

Emily shook her head as she followed him through his house and into the kitchen. "Oh no, I'm fine, thanks."

"Some tea, then?"

"Tea, would be great, yes, thanks," she agreed as she sat at the table, looking around. The house was as impeccably clean as she remembered it, except that the fridge and even the walls were now covered with Jack's drawings and other artworks. She spotted Jack himself sitting in the living room, watching 'Finding Nemo' with a focus that he could only have gotten from his father.

"Are you sure you told him about the ice cream?" Emily asked teasingly, "'cause he doesn't seem to know…"

Hotch smiled. "'Finding Nemo' is his favorite. He could watch it uninterrupted for hours if I let him."

"Hmm… The story of a single father who goes onto this epic journey to rescue his abducted son… I wonder why."

He threw her a quick look over his shoulder as he got two cups from the cupboard, but remained silent, and Emily was starting to think that maybe she had crossed a line. She knew his family life with Jack was sacred, had she offended him? "Sorry," she said after a moment.

He shook his head as he returned to sit at the table with her. "No, you're right. I just wish the father figure was any character other than a clownfish."

Emily smiled in relief. "I hear ya," she agreed with a brief chuckle.

"So how are you feeling?" Hotch asked seriously as he rested his elbow on the table, absentmindedly stroking the salt and pepper hair on his jaw.

"I'm fine," she said, though she could see that he didn't totally buy it. She tried shrugging, but – bad mistake! She winced in pain. "It's still kind of tender," she admitted through clenched teeth.

He raised his hand, his expression empathetic, as if looking for a way to help her in some way, but there was none, so he lowered it on the table again. "I heard you're staying with Garcia."

"Yeah, it's been ah… something."

He smiled a little at this. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Seriously, though, I truly am grateful. She's been incredible."

Hotch nodded and Emily watched him for a moment as he stared down at his hand on the table. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked at last.

He looked a little confused as he frowned. "I thought Morgan told-"

"I mean before. Why didn't you tell me that Strauss wanted you off the case?"

He rose to his feet to go take care of the boiling water. "Because it wouldn't have changed anything."

Emily followed him, standing next to him as he poured water and got the tea bags. "Of course it would have! Hotch, I could have done something about it, I could have-"

"Then she would have found another way to punish me for letting you go over her head, you know how it is, Emily." He shook his head. "It wouldn't have changed anything, and you had other things to worry about."

She let out a sigh. "How long?"

"Three weeks."

"Three weeks?" Emily repeated in astonishment. "Hotch, that's-"

"What she requested," he finished for her.

She huffed in amazement. "I don't get you, how can you be so calm?"

He frowned as he offered the mug to her free hand, and they walked back to the table. "I don't think calm is quite the right word. But, I guess I'm trying to think of this as an opportunity."

Emily was confused. "An opportunity for what?"

"To think about what I want," he said, his intense gaze settling on her face.

Emily's heart skipped a beat as she held his stare. She didn't dare ask him what that was. "Are you having some kind of mid-life crisis or something?" she asked lightly instead, with a small chuckle.

He raised an amused eyebrow. "I guess you could call it that."

"Hotch, you're not seriously thinking about leaving, are you?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"The BAU?" He shook his head. "No. I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Well then… I don't understand, what-" she stopped mid-sentence when his eyes purposefully rose to hers, holding the gaze steadily, meaningfully, intensely.

Oh. Oh.

Emily felt a blush rise up her neck to her cheeks as she tried to hold his suddenly burning look, her breath catching in her throat and her heart pounding. After a second she just had to look away and she swallowed with difficulty as she let out a nervous chuckle.

"I ah…"

He stopped her babble before she could ever start with his fingers circling hers, making her look back up.

"I don't think I'm being presumptuous when I say…That's three weeks for us to figure out what we want from this," he said with all the seriousness and intensity that characterized him.

She let out a nervous chuckle again. "That's… Three weeks suddenly seem very short."

"Yes, I know. But I think we have options, and I think we need to consider them all carefully."

Emily held his gaze, her heart beating erratically against her chest. She could hardly believe that they were actually talking about their relationship, and that he actually seemed willing to consider it. But what if that meant that she couldn't return to the BAU? It had been her dearest wish for months… could she just give it up so she could find out where this thing with Hotch could take them? It was one hell of a risk, and one hell of a choice.

A little shaken, she rose to her feet and he imitated her, the movement bringing them much closer than both had anticipated. Emily gasped as she found herself in his personal space; she could feel his breath in her hair and the mere heat emanating from him made her skin buzz to life. With her wearing flat shoes, he was taller by a few more inches than she was used to and her nose came to his chin. Slowly she raised her eyes to his and found that he was staring at her intently once more, his breathing shallow but even as they stood only a couple of inches apart.

His left hand came up to touch a lock of her hair delicately, his fingers slowly moving to graze her cheek, his movements careful, as if afraid that she would break. Or bolt. But Emily had no intention of doing either, so she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. She felt him move a little closer and his touch became more confident as his fingers slid under her chin to tilt her head up, their breaths mingling.

"Daddy?"

Emily jumped back, her eyes flying open and her hand going up to cover her mouth as they both turned to find Jack standing a few feet away, looking between the two of them.

"Jack!" Hotch exclaimed, sounding a little breathless. "Is there something wrong with the DVD?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes still on Emily, observing her curiously. Emily smiled and waved. "Hey Jack! I'm Emily, do you remember me?"

He merely stared silently.

Hotch's hand slid down her arm in a feather light touch before he moved away and walked to his son, escorting him back to the living room. She let out a long shaky breath, clearing her throat to find her composure again.

"Can I have my ice cream now?" Jack was asking.

"Sure, I'll bring it to you, alright?"

"I can have it in the living room?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Just this once, okay?" Hotch replied, making Emily smile a little.

As much as she yearned to continue this conversation, Emily thought it might be better if they left it at that for now. She needed some time to process all this - what he'd said, and what they had almost done - and she was pretty sure that he did too. She had too often jumped into relationships without taking the time to get used to them, and she didn't want to do that with Hotch. It was too important. He was too important.

When Hotch came back Emily was standing closer by the door, her bag around her good shoulder. He seemed a little disappointed to find her there, but not entirely surprised. He joined her but kept his distance, as he had apparently come to similar conclusions.

"Sorry, he's…" Hotch started with a shake of the head.

"No worries, he's probably got some questions."

"Yes…" He paused, putting his hands in his jeans pockets. "Will you think about what I said?" he asked.

Emily let out a brief laugh. "Yeah, as if I could think about anything else…" she admitted and he gave her a half-smile.

"Actually," Emily started again on a lighter tone, "I'll be apartment hunting over the next few days. If you're free…"

"I'd be glad to help. Just let me know in advance so that I can find someone to look over Jack."

They stared in each other's eyes for a long moment as Emily stood a little awkwardly, not sure what to do. He wasn't making any moves towards her… Making up her mind and staying good on her promise to herself, she smiled and reached out with her good hand to stroke his arm until it slid down to his hand and she squeezed his fingers.

"I'll call you tomorrow, then," she said as she moved and he released her fingers, reluctantly it seemed.

"Good."

Emily threw him one last look over her shoulder before she opened the door and hurried out before she changed her mind, releasing a long breath as she walked down the corridor.


Garcia wasn't home when Emily came back, making her feel almost like an outsider, looking into the BAU life without taking part in it. Was that how Hotch's wife had felt all those years? Knowing what he was doing, but without knowing the details? Emily couldn't quite imagine living that kind of life – she was an action person, she needed to be in the middle of it, or not at all. At least when she'd been away in Minnesota, she had been blissfully oblivious to that life and she'd only had her memories to make her long for BAU work.

Emily didn't sleep much at all that night, her nerves on high and her head threatening to burst with thoughts of Hotch, anxieties and possibilities. So when Garcia came home around 4:30, Emily was sitting on the couch, looking for housing ads on the internet. It sucked to type in words with just one hand, but she was starting to get the hang of it.

"What are you doing still up?" Garcia asked as she spotted her and dropped herself next to her on the couch.

"Can't sleep," Emily merely said, smiling at her friend. "How was the case?"

"Oh, you know. Horrifying, as usual. Watcha looking at?"

"Apartments."

"I told you, you can stay here for as long as you want!"

"Oh I know. But I can't stay here forever. Besides, I need my own place if I want to go get my dog."

Garcia looked at her curiously. "You have a dog?"

Emily nodded. It felt strange to talk about it with Garcia, it felt like she was mixing two worlds that couldn't quite blend together. "Yeah, her name's Ambassador."

Garcia smiled. "Ambassador?" she repeated. "Does your mom know about this?"

"Of course not. And she never will."

Garcia giggled. "And where is that dog of yours?"

"Northern Minnesota."

Garcia frowned for a second, repeating the two words to herself as if they sounded familiar, and then her whole face changed in realization. "Oh my God!" She jumped to her feet, her hand to her chest as she stared at Emily incredulously. "Oh. My. God! You're that woman that Hotch wanted me to investigate but then said didn't fit the profile! I couldn't find anything on her and I thought that was so suspicious!"

Emily rose to her feet as well and nodded, keeping a careful eye on her friend as she did so; she looked about ready to hyperventilate. "Yeah. It was my alias. Emmeline Pollard."

"Oh my God!" she cried again. "But then… he knew?"

"Yes, we met unexpectedly over the course of his investigation," Emily said, not sure whether she should tell her that Hotch had known all along. "Seaver also found out on that trip."

"Oh my God! They knew all this time but didn't say a word?" She was tearing up and Emily was torn, not knowing what to do.

"Only because they knew that the less people knew the truth, the safer I was. And the safer you all were!" she explained quickly. "It wasn't their secret to reveal, Garcia. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry about all this!" Emily exclaimed, her voice shaking with emotion. Oh how she hated to hurt her closest friends!

Garcia nodded numbly for a few seconds, her lower lip shaking. "Wow, that's… a lot to take in."

Emily nodded silently, not sure what to say and trying to figure out what her friend was thinking. She was shocked, that much was obvious, but was she hurt? Angry? All of the above?

"Wow," Garcia repeated… "I think I need to sleep on this," she said with a frown.

"Garcia! You do understand why it had to stay secret, though right?" Emily tried once more, needing some reassurance that they would eventually be okay.

Garcia nodded absentmindedly, but then started walking to her room, almost zombie-like. "I need to get some sleep." And the door closed behind her.

And there it was, Emily thought. The stupid shoe had finally caught up with her.

When Emily woke up the next morning after only a couple hours of restless sleep, she found Garcia perched on her bed, all dressed for work and two coffee mugs in hand, watching her quietly.

"Oh you scared me!" Emily breathed as she sat up as best as she could without jolting her arm.

"Call it retaliation," Garcia said with some humor as she handed Emily one of the coffee mugs.

"I guess I deserved that," she replied.

"And so much more."

Emily nodded with a frown. "Yeah, I know. You're right."

"I'm just kidding, Emily," Garcia said gently as she rubbed her knee. "I'm not really angry with you. I do get why you did what you had to do. It was just a lot to take in, to know that Hotch and Seaver knew and just kept it all to themselves. How hard that must have been for him, and for Seaver."

Emily grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. "You're too good for me, Penelope Garcia. I don't deserve you."

Garcia smiled brightly, but then shushed her with her hand. "Bah, nobody does," she quipped.

"Come here, then," Emily said with a smile as she opened her good arm as an invitation for a hug and Garcia happily took it, though she was careful not to squeeze too tightly or to touch her shoulder, or not to drop coffee.

After pulling back, Garcia jumped back to her feet, back to her chipper self. "So, if you want to go apartment hunting later, we're not planning on working a case today, so I should be out by 4pm if you'd like some company?"

Emily found herself blushing. "Ah, actually, Hotch has already offered to help me with that."

That seemed to surprise her. "Hotch? As in SSA Aaron Hotchner?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh… Alright then, well let me know if you need another woman's opinion."

"Will do," Emily smiled as her friend leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

And on that Garcia left for work.


End chapter 9