Author's Note: Yet another somewhat short chapter to get the ball rolling. I have a lot in store for this fic, and I hope you'll bear with me until things really start picking up; which should be in either next chapter or the one after that! Prepare yourself for drama, my friends. Lots of it. ;) Until then, I want to thank you so much for taking the time to read and review! I'm sorry for the long wait between updates, but I do hope you'll enjoy!

Disclaimer in Chapter One!

Emily hadn't felt this satisfied in a very long time. And she knew why she was feeling it now. Smiling to herself, she snuggled further into Hotch's gentle embrace. She would've been content and willing to stay there forever.

But Hotch had other plans.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked groggily, her voice deliciously husky.

Hotch chuckled to himself. "Out of bed. We've got to get up for work, remember? And unless you happen to have a different tie for me to wear - or a different suit, for that matter - I'm going to have to leave your place with enough time to stop by mine."

She snorted. "Are you always this analytical in the morning?"

That earned her a smile. "Yes. Now get out of bed, sleepyhead," Hotch said, wrapping his arms around her bare waist and hoisting her up into a sitting position. "You don't want to be late."

"Yes, sir," Emily drawled.

Try as he might to prevent it, Hotch's smile slowly faded; and Emily noticed, even though he was now an expert at masking his emotions. Internally slapping herself for her choice of words, she let out a small sigh then cleared her throat. "So, um..." she began conversationally, "isn't this kind of fraternization...frowned upon?"

Carefully donning his outfit from the night before, Hotch gave a curt, concise nod. "Yes."

There was a pregnant pause, and for the first time ever, Emily found herself doubting something they had done. She was suddenly disconcerted; had they moved too quickly? Were they rushing things? Or...did he feel like they were? A million thoughts continued running through her head at break-neck speeds when she heard Hotch speak. His voice was quiet, as if he was talking for his own ears only.

"Strauss cannot find out."

Of course. Emily nodded slowly, though inside, she felt like letting out a scream. She had only been with the BAU for one day, yet she was already in deep shit. She cringed; she didn't want to have to make this decision for a second time, the decision between her job and Hotch. Before she even knew what she was doing, a few choice words had slipped past her lips. "If this progresses...I don't want to hide it like some illicit office affair."

It was an argument she was familiar with, though the last time she'd had it, she had been on the opposite side, with Clyde telling her he was tired of keeping them a secret. They had eventually slipped into the friends-with-benefits stage that they had managed to uphold to the present, but Emily couldn't help but remember a time when she, too, had wanted something...more. Something they could've had, once.

Emily didn't want the same thing to happen to her and Hotch. Again, she wanted more; and she guessed he did, too. Already exhausted, Emily huffed. She had always had a thing for her bosses.

Caught off guard, Hotch thought of what Emily had said just yesterday: "I don't want people to think I got my job by sleeping with the boss." He frowned. "'If'?" he quoted. "An illicit office affair...is that what you think this is?"

He regretted his words the moment he saw the look on Emily's face. "I'm..." his expression softened, and he hung his head a little, "I'm sorry. C'mere," he murmured, holding his arms out for her.

Emily knew from past experience that she couldn't stay mad at him for more than a minute; he had always been too good to her. So she took a step forward...and another, and another, until he had her back in his arms and was kissing her with a subdued passion she wanted to stoke.

"It is whatever you make it out to be," Emily finally answered, against her lover's lips. "You're the boss, after all."

Hotch's lips curved at the subtle sauciness he heard in Emily's tone, but he was instantly serious once more. "We have to keep it under wraps for now," he said, putting emphasis on the 'for now'. "But, honestly, Emily...I never want to let you go again. I do want to pick up where we left off. If...that's what you want as well."

A tiny voice in the back of her head was telling her she had worked too hard to give everything up for an office fling, but Emily ignored it, because what they had was not a simple fling, nor would it ever be one. This was Aaron, for God's sake. He was worth any risk. That much Emily had learned in her eight years away.

"I do," she said with a smile. "I think we should maybe slow down a little, at least until things settle. But I do want this."

"One thing, though," Hotch said, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. "Where are we? Can I at least ask you out on a date?"

"Absolutely. Though...wouldn't last night count as a date?" Her smile turned dreamy. "You took me out to dinner, paid the check - even though I insisted I'd pay for myself."

Hotch smirked. "Oh, Emily," he admonished playfully. "You obviously don't know me well enough. I never let a lady pay for her food."

She indulged him with a rolling of her expressive brown eyes. "How chauvinistic of you."

"I'm going to pretend you said chivalrous."

~.~.~

Hotch was not at all surprised to find Rossi waiting in his office after they broke for a quick lunch. He wasn't surprised to find Rossi gazing out the window at Emily, either.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're not here to share your thoughts on our newest case," Hotch deadpanned.

"Perceptive," Rossi cracked, chuckling under his breath. Silently, he watched as Emily and JJ, huddled close together like the best of friends, laughed at something Morgan had said. "She fits in easily here," he remarked finally.

Hotch carefully hid the twitch of his lips. "She does," he agreed.

Silence lapsed between them.

Soon, it was Hotch's turn to cave in. "It's not like that, Dave," he said drolly, with a sidelong glance to the older man. "Really."

"Uh huh." Rossi snorted disbelievingly. "She hasn't worked here two full days yet you've already taken to staring at her when you're so sure no one will notice."

Hotch groaned. "Have I really?"

He nodded. "Absolutely," he smiled. "So. Are you two back together yet, or what?"

"You remind me of Sean," Hotch droned impassively.

"That wasn't an answer."

"Yes," Hotch said, but his voice wavered. "I mean, I don't know. I think we are; or at least, I know we're getting there."

"I'm glad," Rossi said approvingly. "She's good for you, I can tell."

"But, Dave...you cannot mention this even in passing to anyone. I know you would never, but I have to say it anyway, you know? I can't - we can't - chance anyone blabbing to corporate. IAB is the last thing we, meaning the team as a whole, need on our asses."

"Of course." Rossi smiled knowingly; after all, he had been there and done that a multitude of times. Finally, the pair drew away from the window and settled into various office chairs. "Eight years," he whistled. "That is a long time."

"You're telling me." Hotch let an awkward laugh quickly slip past. "It is. Oh, it really is."

"A lot of things can happen in one year, let alone eight." Rossi paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Does she know about...Haley? And Jack?"

"She does," Hotch confirmed, his voice quieter than before. "I told her about them last night - I mean, uh, yesterday." He pointedly ignored his friend's smirk at his telltale slip-up. "Emily had her fair share of questions, which is understandable." Suddenly, Hotch was biting back a smile. "She's always been a curious one."

"Speaking of questions, Aaron," Rossi interjected, "what are you going to do when the team has some of their own? You told them yourself that you and Emily had been 'previously acquainted'. Sooner or later, the puzzle pieces will start coming together in their minds."

"Let them ask," Hotch said simply. "Whether I'll answer them is another story entirely. We all have that one private aspect of our lives that we fight to keep separated from the job. Morgan has his property, Garcia as her plays, you have your hunting and that cabin of yours in Commack. For me...well, I have my family."

Rossi's eyes glinted with curiosity and a hint of mischief. "Do you consider Emily to be part of your family?"

Damn it, Hotchner. "No," he said much too quickly. "But...I...I mean..."

Rossi held a hand up, sparing him. "Forget I asked. You want to keep this to yourself. Believe me, I get it." He watched as Hotch slumped back in his chair, only slightly deflated. "But do you think Emily feels the same way?"

"Yes." This time, when he answered quickly, it was because he truly believed the answer in his heart. "But even if she doesn't," he said for the sake of it, "she's a grown woman. I wouldn't want to make decisions for her." The two men's gazes met. "Emily, she...she has this necklace she likes to wear. The pendant is the Chinese character for 'independence'. It's very fitting, if you ask me," he said fondly.

"You're the one who gave her the necklace," Rossi guessed.

Hotch felt his cheeks warm with a faint flush. "Yes," he murmured. "I was."

"Then I must say," Rossi mused aloud. "Emily Prentiss might be an independent, free spirit. But the fact that she's still wearing your necklace, eight years later? That's loyalty. That's faithfulness."

Hotch couldn't hold back his smile; and he didn't want to. That's love.

Author's Note: Please drop me a line telling me what you think! I always love reading your feedback. Is there anything you'd like to see in the upcoming chapters? Please let me know! I'm anxious to hear from you. As always, thank you so very much for your time and dedication. :)

Also, with review #500 fast approaching (you guys are amazing), I'd love to express my gratitude in a very special way. So, you guessed it: reviewer #500 gets a oneshot written for the prompt of their choice!