More banter and some fluff...

After having a substantial breakfast of bacon and eggs (him) and French toast with strawberry sauce (her), plus three cups of coffee each, they went through the movie menu and settled on watching The King's Speech which Hotch told her he thoroughly enjoyed.

"Okay, what next?" Emily scrolled through the list of movies. "Oh, look, it's a Justin Bieber movie."

"A what movie?" Hotch walked back into the room after his 'comfort' break.

"A who movie," she corrected him, "Justin Bieber." Hotch looked nonplussed. She rolled her eyes, "Teen sensation, 17 years old, ring any bells?" Not a flicker of recognition on his face. Damn he was gorgeous. She sighed. "Don't worry." She pressed select on the remote.

"Prentiss, stop."

Emily raised her eyebrows at him, noticing the familiar furrowed brow, I-am-not-impressed look, which Hotch held the patent on, was back on his face. Uh oh, "Prentiss?" she ventured.

He glanced at her face. "Sorry, let me rephrase. Emily, stop."

Ah, she knew what was going to happen next. She tried to look innocent, "Yes, Ho-Aaron?" It was taking a while, but she was very slowly starting to get used to calling him by his first name. She could tell that it pleased him even though he said nothing and hadn't asked her again after the second time. Besides, she didn't want it to be the 'orgasm' name, although that certainly had possibilities. Oh, what fun she could have had if she was still in his team.

"Please tell me you are not about to watch Justin Bieber."

"No, I'm not." She paused for effect. "We are." She felt wicked, but couldn't help trying to get a rise out of him. He was so damn adorable when he was trying not to lose his temper. Even more so now that she had seen his softer side. Oh, she had seen him when he was interacting with Jack, but never this side of him that was the gentle, teasing lover who had apparently disappeared for this conversation.

"Emily..." His voice was getting icy and he looked exceedingly displeased. "If you make me watch that, I will -"

"You'll what?" she interrupted cheekily. "Spank me? Oh sir, please spank me."

Hotch glowered at her.

"Well, I just thought after that rather serious movie, we should have something different. And there's the added bonus that you'll learn who Justin Bieber is. You know Pen loves him. She has got a major case of Bieber fever." She tried to maintain her innocent expression. "C'mon, give him a chance."

A muscle ticked ominously in his jaw. She desperately tried to stifle a laugh. She had no idea he would be such an easy target. She had never teased him before, well, not seriously. Even when they were outside of work, he never let down his guard, always maintaining his professional distance. She knew that it was because he believed that as the leader of their unit, he had to be beyond reproach always. There was no time outs, no breaks, ever from that role.

She was so focused on her internal thoughts that she barely had time to emit a startled squeak when he pounced on her and relieved her of the remote. He rolled over, holding it far above his head and she leapt on him, trying to crawl up his body.

"No! Aaron, give that back." Emily tried to reach the remote, but failed. Not surprising, really, as she wasn't even trying very hard. She was somewhat distracted by the taut, muscled chest under her splayed hands. Derek may have the body that every woman fantasised about, but to her, Hotch's tall, lean, runner's body was incredibly sexy.

She looked up at him as her hands slowly stroked his pecs. "If I had known you looked like this under your suits, I'd have jumped you years ago."

His mouth hitched up in a smile, flashing his rarely seen dimples. God, she loved seeing him smile. If she had her way, he would smile all the time.

"If you had, I probably won't have said no."

"Bullshit."

Hotch choked on his laughter at her unexpected reply. "What?"

She gave him a disbelieving look, "As if you would have said yes. You are the most straight-laced, professional, totally beyond reproach unit chief in the history of the FBI. It's true," she said emphatically as he started to shake his head. He stopped when he saw that she was serious. "Aaron, do you know that you are the only person I know who is the true epitome of the FBI motto." He gave her a questioning look. "You know, fidelity, bravery, integrity. That's you. And I think you are amazing. I always have."

Emily felt warmth stealing into her face at the soft look that was now in his eyes, "O-kay, now that I've completely embarrassed myself, I'll just go hide in the bathroom." She made a move to slide off him, but he stopped her with a hand on her thigh.

"Emily, do you really see me that way?" He looked intently at her, waiting for her answer.

"Yes, I do. Of course I do."

"I don't know what to say, except - thank you. I don't know if I have those qualities you mention, although I do hope I have integrity at the very least." His face clouded over. "If you could only see the all the flaws in me, you'd run as fast and as far away as you could. Trust me on this."

She shook her head in denial. "I know you have flaws, Aaron, I do too. But you can't scare me away that easily. If only we had more time, I could show you that you can't get rid of me that easily. In fact, if it wasn't for Doyle, you'd never be able to get rid of me, even if you wanted to." She hoped he could see that she meant every word of her conviction.

"That's good, because I'm never going to let you go, even if you wanted to, which is why we are going to catch him. Because I am not going to lose you again," Hotch's face was set with hard determination.

Emily knew she should tell him again that catching Doyle would be almost impossible, but she didn't want to. She wanted to stay in this bubble where it felt like anything was possible, catching Doyle, going back home and most of all, having a life with Aaron in it. She would even have willingly given up the job she loved and which she had once thought defined her existence, to be able to be with him; to see him first thing in the morning and last thing at night; to be able to hear his voice whenever she wanted to and to be able to make love for hours on end without the always present thought that their time together would soon end.

But she didn't say any of this. She didn't want to make him sad too. So she just rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She felt his hand stroke her hair gently as she listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

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