JJ was twisting the knob on Hotch's car radio. The knob was annoyingly small, and every time she gripped onto it to turn it, it escaped from her hand. She threw her hands up, giving up, apparently deciding on a jazz channel. "How do you work this?" she said, shaking her head out of the window.

Hotch didn't miss a beat; he was quick to defend his beloved car. "It fits my needs," he countered.

She scoffed, catching a peek at sleeping Henry buckled up safely in his car seat in the rear-view mirror. She smiled, and when Hotch looked over and saw it, he smiled at her, thinking she was smiling at him. Whatever. Why bother correcting him?

"Besides, they don't let me drive the FBI SUVs all the time." Hotch informed, shifting slightly, clutching his steering wheel rather proudly.

JJ smirked. "I'm just saying, I think it's time to consider going new car shopping."

"Please," he said, "I can't even commit to costume shopping."

JJ piped up in her seat, slapping her hands loudly on her knees, becoming wildly aware of the idea all over again. "Yes! That reminds me!" she exclaimed excitedly. She sat up really close and turned to face him as she talked, her blue eyes shining. She apparently had forgotten all about the crappy radio and the crappy radio station blaring old jazz tunes that neither of them cared for. Hotch wanted to tease her for it, but decided to wait until the perfect opportunity. When she wasn't practically bouncing in her seat in delight.

"Morgan and Prentiss and I went to lunch the other day and we talked about the party," she was saying it super-fast because she was really excited about the idea. Hotch glanced at her every now and then to ensure her that he was actually listening, and surprisingly, was hearing her. "And I told them that neither one of us decided on a costume yet."

He paused. Waited. When she kept blinking at him, he said, "And?"

"And," she said, not ever breaking her smile. Her smile curved slightly, like she was thinking something naughty, or worse, something she knew he'd really, really hate. "I was thinking it's about time we return to that store."

He stared at her funny. "Your kidding, right?" he asked blandly.

"Well, maybe not that store, but others," she blinked at him again. She didn't wait for him to speak. "Others that preferably sell clothes. And, you know, not suits and ties and blazers, but clothes as in funny wigs and costume make-up and boas and really slutty shoes that no girl would actually ever wear out on any other night but Halloween."

He grinned a little, eyes still fixed on the road. "You really like this Holiday." he didn't say it as a question, rather a statement, like he was certain of it.

"Not really." she said, deflating a little.

"Yes, you do," he decided, nodding slightly. "I can tell."

She paused. "It's not really this party I'm excited about." she said, kind of slowly and really quietly, like she was ashamed.

He arched an eyebrow. "Your not?" he asked, skeptical.

She shrugged, like it suddenly didn't matter; like she didn't just spiel off a rant about it. She fell back in her seat. "No." she shook her head.

She knew he wanted to ask her something else. It seemed to hover in the empty space between the driver's and passenger's seat. She pressed her head against the cold glass window. It felt nice against her hot face. How hot did Hotch have the heat up, anyway?

"Are you warm?" he asked after a second passed.

He turned the dial on a button all the way over to the other side, then smirked a little. She felt his smirk fly it's way over to her, and she looked over at him. "What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing,"

She raised her eyebrows. "Uh huh. What is it?" she prompted.

"I'm just wondering how long it was going to take before you started unbuttoning your shirt."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Her first instinct as a woman was to slap him, and instantly be offended. Then her second thought was to be confused. Then, once she thought it over - which didn't take much thinking - it dawned on her. Broken heater at her house. Unbuttoned pajama top. Hotch. She felt heat rush back to her face. She pressed it back to the window, her face turning wet from the fogginess.

"Ha-ha." was all she said. She felt his smirk again, but didn't bother looking. She didn't want to think about Hotch seeing her with her shirt opened. It was a very dirty thought she didn't feel like thinking with her son in the backseat. It just felt wrong. She shifted uncomfortably, and wanted to stop thinking about him altogether. Which was hard, because he was about five inches from her.

"So, how bad is my house?" she asked.

His body tensed. He didn't respond, just weaved lane to lane on the busy highway.

"Hotch?"

"I wanted to talk to you about that," he said. The way he said it, made her feel shaky and uneasy. "I just didn't know when to bring it up."

"It's bad, isn't it?" she didn't have to ask.

He took a second, then nodded gently. He looked over at her, sad. "Yeah, JJ, it's really bad."

She sat up straighter, adjusted the belt tight against her chest and faced him. "How bad?"

"I didn't go inside, but from what I heard from a guy who helped put out the fire and from what I'd seen..." he blinked a few times at the road. "There's not much to it."

She twisted a thin strand of hair around her finger, trying not to completely and totally lose it. "Not much left, you mean?" she asked, her voice still shaky.

He nodded. "I'm really sorry." he said, sincerely. He paused, and noticing her focus drifting off. "Are you okay?"

She was making a mental list, checking off one by one everything she'd have to replace, everything she'd lost. She'd lost everything. Her purse, her wallet, her credit cards, her make-up, her clothes, her shoes, Henry's toys, Henry's clothes, Henry's bed, her bed, her photos. She'd lost everything. Everything was burnt to crisps, just tiny ashes collecting on a floor that was once in great condition. She didn't know whether to cry or just shake her head at how sucky things were turning out.

"JJ?" he asked after a minute, allowing her to recollect herself.

She barely forced a nod. "I have no idea what I'm going to do," she shook her head, becoming dizzy at the thought of everything she'd have to do. "I have to call the credit card companies and tell them what happened, to send me new cards. I have to," she had to stop thinking. She needed coffee. It was way too early for her to even be awake. She squeezed her forehead, which was beginning to have a migraine tense feeling. "I have to just breathe."

"Yes, exactly, just breathe," Hotch coached, touching her knee. His touch brought her back to reality, and made her relax, instant warmth calming her. She inhaled and exhaled like her Yoga teacher has instructed her to do. "We'll take care of everything."

She actually believed him. Maybe it's the way Hotch actually commits to the things he promises, or maybe it's the way he says it, so honest and sounding so sweet about it, that when he swears on things, she trusts him completely. It's nice to have at least that left. She let her face fall directly into her hands. "Oh my God." she shook her head slowly.

"What?"

"I have to call Will."

He understood. Of course she did. Get the address of Andy so Hotch could make him pay. Simple. He reached down and grabbed his cell phone, handing it to her automatically, since hers had gone up in flames.

She took it from his hands. "This is going to suck so bad." she said, still shaking her head.

"Just don't explain the reason why you need his information right away," he suggested. "Just say it's important."

She gave him a funny look, furrowing her eyebrows at him. "I'm not telling Will about Andy. At least not right now."

He glanced at her. "What? Then why do you need to call him?" he couldn't stop thinking about Andy. He wanted her to call Will now. Not for any other reason. Not to tell him she's okay. It's obvious she's okay. She's okay because of him. Selfishly, that's all he could think about. But another part of his mind only wanted to track down Andy.

She pressed three digits of Will's number then inhaled deeply. "I have to ask him if it'd be okay if I could stay with him." she exhaled then dialed two more.

"Wait, what? Why?" he sounded kind of frantic about it. He hoped she didn't notice. No wait, she had to of.

"Because I need somewhere to sleep."

He reached for her phone and took it from her, clicking the End button. "I wouldn't make you do that," he said, shaking his head. "You can stay with me and Jack."

She scratched her neck awkwardly. "I couldn't burden you like that," she said decisively. "I'll just call Will. His brother's nice."

"What if Andy visits? No, no, it's a bad idea. Just stay with me." he looked at her, catching her eyes and staring into them. "Really."

She nodded. "Alright, if you really don't mind -"

"Believe me, I don't."

"Okay, then," she shrugged, smiling. "I guess that saves me the embarrassment of that."

"Good. Glad to help." he said quietly, nodding. He felt kind of relieved that while his first reaction when she brought up sleeping over at Will's wasn't any of the above he mentioned, he seemed to bring up good points accidentally that actually made him feel nervous anyway. But his first thought was actually, I don't want you sleeping over at his house or his brother's house or wherever he's staying. I don't want you to sleep next to him or even in the same floor as him and think about how it used to be when he slept next to you, if he won't be already, and then one thing leads to another and next thing you know, your telling me you two are back together.

"You do know eventually I want you to call Will and get Andy's information though, right?" he asked, pulling into his driveway.

She nodded. "Yes," she pushed her hair behind her ears. "But can it wait until I sleep a little bit more?"

He nodded. "Yes, absolutely," he opened his car door. "I'll head inside and give Jack a warning ahead of time that we're going to have some guests for a while."

She smiled weakly at him. "Is this going to be a big deal for him?"

He liked that she cared how Jack would feel. Honestly he hadn't even considered it. "I'm sure it'll be fine." he reassured her. Or he hoped it would be.

Hotch headed inside, announcing himself as he stepped in. Hayley's sister was passed out on the couch, a book opened on her stomach. He walked over to her and touched her arm. She jumped up, scared.

"God, Aaron, thanks a lot," she snapped, sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "Is everything alright? Where the hell were you?"

He looked down and fixed his tie, about to explain. She didn't let him.

"Why do I even bother asking? You don't even have to tell me," she shook her head at the couch. "I know where you were." she crawled out from under the blanket and slowly walked to the back of the room, gathering her things.

"I wasn't at work." he defended.

She scoffed, stuffing things half-assed into her bag. "Oh, how nice," she sounded very cocky this morning. Hotch sighed, rubbing harsh above his eyebrow. He was way too tired and stressed to deal with this right now. He glanced at the clock above one of the kitchen counters. 6:13 AM. Way too early. How could he very politely shut her up and ask her to leave? "I'm staying here with your child while you parade around town doing God knows what."

He grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. "You know I'm nothing like that," he said softly, trying to reach her. If she had any ounce of respect for him, she'd believe him, he told himself. "I just had something to take care of. Something very important. Believe me."

She pulled her arm away from his grip. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," she nodded at him, not really getting it. At least not the way he wanted her to. "Your always too busy."

"I'm not saying that -"

She turned around, sharp on her heels. "Just don't even waste your breath. Do you even have time to do that?" she didn't give him a chance to respond. "Just go say hello to your son. And go about your business as you always do." she turned around to leave, but thought of something, then turned around and said, "Make sure you keep your phone nearby, so you can always reach me when you need to leave. What's the next big thing on your list of important things to do? Buy dessert? I wonder where Jack is listed on your importance scale."

He didn't know what to say. He felt like the breath was taken from him. He felt like he was sinking. He literally felt very, very short and tiny. He felt like she could scoop him up between her index finger and thumb and crush him if she wanted to. It felt like she already had.

She gave him a sharp look before exiting, with a very loud door slam. He felt like if this were a movie, he should be clapping for her outstanding performance of a scorned woman.

JJ followed in shortly after her exit, carrying a sleeping Henry. "Was that Hayley's sister?" she asked.

Hotch nodded, sighing heavily. "Yeah, that's her."

"She seemed kind of -"

He waved his hand at her. "Just forget about it, it was nothing."

She wanted to say she overheard the conversation. She wanted to say she was wrong. But she didn't think that was enough.

Once Henry was safely tucked in bed, and Jack was still sleeping, Hotch set them up with early morning coffee. The steam alone was enough to make her feel more at ease. She inhaled the nice aroma that poured out with the steam. "Thank you so much," she said almost breathlessly, so relieved to have something nice and warm in comparison to the freezing cold fall weather.

He nodded, just holding onto his mug, staring down at it, quiet.

"Your still thinking about what Jessica said, huh?" she asked after several steaming hot sips.

"You heard that?" he frowned.

"Oh, yeah. Every gory detail," she tried to smile; it didn't seem to make him feel any better. "She was out of line."

He stared deep in his coffee mug, watching the creamer swirl in the dark blend in his cup. "Was she wrong?"

JJ nodded, reaching for his hand. It was very warm from holding onto his cup for so long. "She was so wrong, Hotch," she stared intently into his eyes. "Beyond I can ever begin to say."

"No, she wasn't wrong, JJ," he shook his head. "She was completely right. I make everything a priority. I try to fix everything. Why isn't driving my kid to school every now and then a priority?"

She blinked. "Because a bus comes every morning?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Funny."

She smiled. "Hey, you'd try to inject humor if this were me."

He raised one eyebrow. "Would I? It is me, after all."

"True." she wagged her finger at him knowingly, smirking. She gripped his hand tighter. "No, seriously. Maybe you don't do every little thing with Jack, but all in all, your prioities are in the right place. When Jack'll really need you, you'll be right there, I know it."

He forced a smile.

"The only thing you need to work on is enjoying life from time to time," she said, smiling sadly. "Sometimes I wonder that you let the good things just pass you by without really seeing the true beauty of it all."

He stared at her for a moment, then started chuckling. "You sound like a Hallmark card right now."

She slapped his hand she'd been holding. "Way to ruin a moment," she shook her head, jokingly.

He smiled at her, then laughed. His laugh was such a strange sound. It was unfamiliar. Out of the windows, birds chirped away. She wondered if they were freezing their asses off. Hotch ought to get a bird feeder. Maybe it's too soon to think about decorating.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you," she said, smiling at him with her eyes.

"Really, it's no problem." he began picking at a napkin at the center of the table. He picked at it until pieces of it started falling off, hitting the floor undenreath the table.

"Your making a mess." she said after a moment of observing him.

"I don't know what to say."

"I can vacuum for you," she said helpfully.

He stopped picking at it. "Not about that," he placed it back at the center. The edges were all torn now and ragged. "To you, I mean."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised. "How do you mean?"

He shifted, then grabbed his cup and refilled it to the brim. Just to focus on anything. Something that didn't result in vacuuming. He sighed. She got up and stood beside him, her back pressed against the counter.

"I don't know, how do you feel?" he asked, turning to her.

"About?"

"About everything. Have you even thought about what could have happened last night?"

"I try not to," she said, nodding, her eyes clouding over with dark thoughts. "The thought of losing Henry is just more than I can take."

He nodded. "I understand."

She looked hard into his eyes.

"I feel the same way when I think about it," he put his cup down on the counter and put his hand on her waist. He didn't want to. Well, he did want to, but he didn't think he'd actually do it. He just did. He kept his eyes laid directly on where his hand was, like he was telepathically telling himself to move it. "I can't think about losing you."

She leaned in, until his breath felt hot against her face. It felt nice and warm, like the coffee did. She kept thinking, Kiss me, kiss me. I need this. I have to feel this. I think I'm forgetting how it felt.

He kept thinking, I can't kiss you. If I do, I won't be able to stop thinking about it. I can't. I refuse to do it.

Turns out pulling away would be a lot harder than kissing her. He kept moving in until their lips pressed against each other's seamlessly and they kissed. Passionate and warm. Exactly what they both needed. She felt that light funny airy feeling at the soles of her feet and she felt like lifting her leg in the air like some women did in movies. When she lifted it, she felt stupid, but at the same time, liked the feeling of it. It really did make the kiss more romantic in a really odd way.

He put his hands on her lower back, his fingers slipping under her shirt only slightly, where two of his fingertips were tracing above her belt.

She let go and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck, where her face fit perfectly. He smelt completely different than Will. Maybe it was the way she strongly desired Hotch like she'd never really desired anyone, but for some reason, she thought maybe Hotch smelt better. She drove her face deeper into his neck, just relaxing it there momentarily, then started kissing it. His skin was hot against her lips.

He buried his lips in her ear, entangled in blonde hair. He groaned in it softly. "We probably shouldn't," he wanted to say, but it barely came out. He couldn't catch his breath.

She pulled away first. Good thing, because he wasn't about to. His body felt strong pressed against her tiny frame. She let out a breath. "Wow."

He didn't know what to say other than, 'Wow.' It fit the situation perfectly. "Wow." he repeated.

"Is Jack getting up soon?" she asked, pushing her hair back. Them kissing instantly warmed up.

He thought about it for a second. "I don't know, not for another hour and a half, I assume."

"I really should get settled in and try to sleep for a little while. Can you show me where I'm sleeping?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he said eagerly, directing her up the staircase. He was relieved she'd changed the subject. No awkward kiss conversations. His head was still spinning. He walked her into a bedroom with the door wide open.

"You can take my bed," he scrambled inside, adjusting the messy comforter quickly, puffing up the pillows for maximum coziness. "I guess I didn't have time to make my bed. It usually doesn't look like this -"

"Hotch," she raised her hand, cutting him off. "My other alternative is a house with, I can only imagine, only a couple walls left standing. This is perfect."

He stopped fixing it and smiled. "Well, if you need anything, I'll be across the hall."

"Uh, yeah, actually, there is something," she sat on the bed. "Can I borrow clothes to sleep in?"

"Oh right!" he had forgotten about that. She had nothing. He opened up both closet doors and eyed it for a second, then stepped aside. "Help yourself. Anything you like."

"Thanks," she smiled, surveying her choices. "You've been really great, Hotch. I mean, I can't even tell you how much all of this means to me."

He couldn't tell her how much those words meant to him. He pressed hard against the door frame to keep from attacking her. He wanted to feel her in his arms again. "Anytime."

He closed the door and headed down to the spare bedroom.