Author's Note: These past couple weeks have been the most hectic of my life, what with exams, rehearsals that went until ten o'clock at night, opening night for the musical I was in, and two other shows. I hoped to tide you all over with The Land of Steady Habits, but what I realized was that, regardless of all the time that passed, you all never gave up on me.

To those of you (all of you!) who have stuck with me through chapter after chapter, conflict after conflict, emotion after emotion, I cannot thank you enough. The time you all have spent reading and reviewing and messaging me...it means so much to me, and I hope I can repay you with this last chapter. Never forget: you guys are the best, and a lot of this could not have been done without your support and feedback.

Without further ado...I do hope you enjoy! Much love.

Disclaimer in Chapter One!


"Aaron?"

Emily moaned a little at the sound of her groggy voice, hoarse from the scream after scream he had ripped from her throat in the throes of the purest ecstasy she had ever experienced. Sleep still weighed down her eyelids, but she forced herself to blink it back. After all, she wanted every possible second with Hotch, especially in the early morning...before the rush of their daily life began...

"Aaron?" she repeated, turning on her side to peer at the other side of the bed. Naturally and hopefully, she had expected to be greeted with the sight of a handsomely rumpled Aaron Hotchner with a soft tuft of hair falling in his eyes as he rested in sleep's comfortable embrace.

Instead, she found blank space and a strategically placed letter.

My darling Emily, it read. Hopefully I'll be able to return home before you wake up, but if that's not the case, please do not begin to worry. I've just snuck out for a minute to bring home a very rambunctious surprise for you anything to make your day a little brighter. I love you.

Yours, Aaron.

Emily had barely read the last words or processed just how sweet his message was before she heard the theatrically hushed voices of her two favorite men right outside her bedroom door. Biting back a smile, she burrowed back under the covers and closed her eyes once more, feigning sleep. If it meant she would be able to give sweet little Jack a laugh in the early morning hours, then she would do it a million times over.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Emily could barely suppress her overjoyed grin as she felt the mattress dip just slightly as Jack plopped down beside her, swinging his legs to and fro. "Can I wake her up, Daddy?" he said in a voice that had obviously meant to be a whisper but came out much louder.

"How about we both wake her up? I just don't want you to be too loud, buddy. Emily needs as much rest as possible, alright?" There was a clanking that sounded reminiscent to a tray being placed down on her bedside table; and as soon as silence was restored, as soon as Hotch's hands were presumably free, Emily felt lips press against her temple.

Jack, on the other hand, threw his arms around her blanket-covered waist. Before Emily opened her eyes and broke the spell, a single thought flitted to the forefront of her conscience. It was something that made her stop and wonder; that Jack barely knew her, yet the young boy acted as if they were best friends.

He acted just like his father, and she loved it so incredibly much.

With a little shuddering exhale, Emily stretched her arms out, coincidentally wrapping Jack up in a beyond comfortable hug. "Good morning, you two," she said quietly, her eyes soft and her demeanor more peaceful than Hotch had ever seen it. "Now this is what I call a pleasant surprise."

Hotch moved his lips from her forehead down to her lips for the slightest fraction of a second. "We made you breakfast," he whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her skin in the most delightful of ways. "Chocolate chip waffles and freshly cut strawberries. Your favorite." He twined their fingers together, smiling at the look of adoration she gave him. "And I'm brewing a new pot of coffee as we speak."

"I don't think I could ever tell you enough times just how perfect you are."

"I suppose you could, but I would never listen, because I'm nothing compared to you." He pulled her into a sitting position, chuckling as Jack squealed and slid onto her lap in result. "My beautiful Emily."

"Stop," she said half-heartedly, blushing a pretty pink as she bounced the little boy up and down enthusiastically. "And how are you, Mister Jack-Jack? I haven't seen you in much too long. You're growing up so fast!"

Jack erupted into raucous giggles, just as he usually did, and Emily immediately found herself being rid of any leftover anxiety that had remained in her system from the days past. "Thank you," he said cutely, before his father could prompt him.

"You're most certainly welcome. Anything for my favorite four year old."

Jack's eyes were wide with excitement as he turned to his father, remembering something that was clearly of the utmost importance. "Daddy, can I ask her now?"

"You sure can, Jack," he said, his attention divided between his two loves as he fed Emily a juicy strawberry. Part of him was suddenly filled with the intense desire to lean forward and taste the tart sweetness on her full lips; but that could wait for a time when Jack was otherwise occupied.

Spinning around in her lap so that he and Emily were face to face, Jack gave his toothiest grin. "Can we go ice skating today?"

Emily's gaze brightened at the idea. "Of course we can! That sounds like so much fun; I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon. But, sweetheart, you don't have to ask my permission for things like this," she said sweetly, touching a finger to the tip of his button nose.

"I asked him to make sure you didn't have any plans of your own in mind," Hotch clarified, watching with approval as she scarfed down the delicious waffles. After all, she needed all the sustenance she could get. "I was hoping beyond hope you'd be able to spend the day with us. And what do you know? You never disappoint."

"I'm glad to hear you think so."

"You know I do. And besides, I may or may not have an ulterior motive behind all this. While we're at the mall, we – or really, I – need to do some Christmas shopping." He shot her a secretive and somehow seductive glance, leaving her heart beating just a titch faster than normal. God, the man was amazing.

Emily smiled lazily at him. "You really don't need to get me anything. You're the greatest gift I could ever ask for," she said, her voice sugary sweet and mawkish; but they both knew her words were entirely true. The sentiment was returned a thousandfold.

"As if I could ever live with myself if I didn't get you something," Hotch scoffed playfully, passing a wriggling Jack the last strawberry. "Anyway, if I'm being honest, I already have your gift picked out."

"Really?" she questioned, her eyes glittering with mirth. "What is it?"

"It's me, babe," he played along, fully aware his answer made no sense in response to their previous banter about the exact same subject. Meanwhile, Emily's teeth on her bottom lip held back a taunting smirk. She wasn't about to give up possibly the best sarcastic retort imaginable.

"...Did you come with a gift receipt?"

Hotch's reaction was instantaneous. "Emily Elizabeth Prentiss," he bit out, shaking his head. He clucked his disappointment, making a show of grasping his heart in shock. "I'm hurt."

She threw her head back and full-on laughed. The sound came deep from her belly and Hotch found it to be utterly delightful. He could go years hearing nothing but the musical indicator of her happiness. "You love me," she tossed at him.

"You're lucky I do," he teased, trying but failing to keep his voice flat and dryly sarcastic.

"I am," Emily said then, sobering. Their gazes locked, and they shared a sentimental little smile. "Very lucky."

"Why were you laughing, Daddy?" Jack piped up finally, never one to be out of the spotlight for more than a handful of minutes at a time. Neither adult minded; the young boy was much too adorable and beloved to be so rudely ignored.

Hotch turned to his son, an exaggerated aghast expression written across the handsome lines and planes of his finely stubbled face. "Miss Emily said something mean."

Jack wrinkled his nose and grinned yet again, one of his many signs that indicated he was clearly amused. "Miss Emily is funny, Daddy."

Emily's laughter only increased in volume, and Hotch found himself shaking his head even harder. "Now look what you've done!" he exclaimed, grabbing Emily's hand in his and squeezing it tight. "Well, I'll be. Emily Prentiss, you've turned my own son against me."

She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a little whisper of a kiss to his knuckles. And then she winked. "Mission accomplished, then."

"Funny," he grumbled, though his heart beat with the most profound love he had ever felt in his life. "Real funny."

~.~.~

"Now this...this is nice."

Hotch smiled at Emily's contented sigh; she did look thoroughly at ease, no one could deny it. He had bundled her up in her warmest coat, colored a red that looked fabulous on her skin, and she cradled her cup of Starbucks close to her face, reveling in the heavenly smell of coffee. All in all, she looked like a picture out of some winter wonderland, and Hotch knew in that instant that he was the luckiest man in the world to be able to spend a blessed day by her side. "Nice doesn't even begin to cover it."

"You could say that again." She nudged Jack in the side playfully, her lips curving at the corners at the adorable look of frustration on his scrunched up face. "You need help tying your skates, Jack-Jack?"

"Yes, please," he said immediately, as polite as ever, relinquishing the laces to her waiting fingers. "They're too loose."

"I'll make them nice and snug, how about that?" Without even a second of thought as to what she was doing, as if it were almost second nature, Emily dropped a kiss in the boy's downy hair. She could feel Hotch's gaze burning a wonderful heat into her skin, and while she didn't dare look at his reaction, something within her told her he was very, very pleased.

So pleased, in fact, that he wanted to her hold her tight to his side and tell her just how much; but Jack had other plans. While Hotch would have been thoroughly content simply with sitting with Emily on the sidelines as Jack skated around and around, he knew it wasn't the fun his endlessly energetic son was looking for. And how could he deny Jack anything?

Even Emily seemed eager to get out on the ice. She took his hand in hers and gave him a great big smile; and when tugged him over to the skate rental counter, Jack following right behind them, there was no way Hotch could object. So what if he hadn't skated in what seemed to be a lifetime?

So what if he'd fall on his butt a dozen times and make a fool of himself?

At least it would make Emily and Jack laugh. And at the end of the day, like he'd said and thought more than a thousand times before, that was really all Hotch wanted. It made him happier than he had ever been.

He should have known Emily would look like a princess on the ice. Skin as white as snow contrasting with hair as dark as ebony; she was easily more beautiful than Snow White herself. With Jack between them, holding on tightly to both of their hands, Hotch and Emily skated around with ease, and to any passerby, any casual onlooker, they appeared to be the most perfect family. For a long, lovely moment, they were able to live that dream. Subtle yet gorgeous glances between the two over Jack's head spoke volumes, and the brunette couple found themselves falling deeper and deeper in love with every second that passed.

It was like a scene straight out of a fairytale – even when Hotch did slip on a particularly wet patch of ice. His bumble caused an almost chain reaction; his weight had pulled Jack down with him, and even the slightest discrepancy in her balance had Emily falling as well. They just sat there for a second, the cold of the ice seeping through their skin, and not one of them minded. Instead, all three erupted into peals of joyous and surprised laughter, a melodic sound that had everyone around them feeling that much better.

It was a sliver of time that was so inherently beautiful; and both Hotch and Emily were set on never letting it end.

After they had spent a good hour on the ice, skating the perimeter too many times to count and then finally venturing into the middle, Emily and Hotch, a sleeping Jack in the latter's arms, sunk into a pair of benches, irreplaceable smiles stretching their lips. There was nothing that would be able to crush the mood they were in; absolutely nothing.

Not even Christmas shopping, Hotch told himself.

After all, he did know what he wanted to get her. He had already gotten the majority of her presents, making sure to purchase them at a time that she wouldn't be around. She more than likely would not approve of the amount of money he had spent on her, but to him, she was worth every penny and so much more.

But this one, this last gift? This was beyond special, if not sentimental in a humorous way.

"What are you thinking so intently about, Mister?"

Her sweet and husky voice pulled him from his thoughts, and it wasn't even a second before he was kissing her, tasting paradise. "You, Emily," he whispered against her lips. "I'm thinking about you. Specifically, where to find your last Christmas present."

"You're incorrigible," she sighed, shaking her head, though the look in her eyes held the indulgent kind of adoration one usually felt for a child.

"I love you."

God, he's going to make me swoon one of these days, there's no doubt about it. "I love you, too. I love you more," Emily amended, reaching out to scratch his scalp in just the way he liked.

"Liar," Hotch managed, barely biting back a groan. The woman was going to be the death of him one of these days. But oh, what a time he would have before then. What a torturously pleasurable death it would be.

Emily smirked, pressing her lips to his forehead, then his cheek. "A liar? Me? Never."

That made him chuckle. "You do realize nothing is going to make me change my mind and not get you the last present I have in mind, right?" Jack shifted restlessly in his arms, but Hotch knew to make a habitual soothing noise, instantly calming the boy back into precious sleep.

"Of course I do," she responded, smiling slightly at the display of fatherly affection. There was no way she would ever get over how adorable the two men were together. She shrugged elegantly, her expression coy. "But I at least have to try to protest, don't I?"

"Not necessarily, no."

She huffed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly as she elbowed him in the side. "God, you're so stubborn, Hotchner."

His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, closer. The three of them were a tangle of limbs, with Jack's elbows and knees poking into Hotch's chest, with Hotch's arms and Emily's linked and their legs touching. "You and me both, darling," he said; and his smile as he said the words redefined handsome.

"One of the many things we have in common, I suppose." Emily's voice softened just a titch as she took in how comfortable she was feeling. She wanted to live like this, with them, forever. If that wasn't a pipe dream, she didn't know what was, but she wasn't going to chalk up the fervent thoughts to something like girlish naivete. No, this time around in life, she actually had a chance. A chance to be in love. A chance to be blissfully happy with the man she loved with all her heart.

She had the heavenly feeling that Hotch felt the same way. But she would let time tell the rest of their tale. She would wait. Patience would become her best friend.

"Absolutely, Emily," Hotch crooned in her ear, nuzzling the skin of her neck as he unknowingly answered more than just one of her questions. "Absolutely, my love."

~.~.~

"So I've been waiting for the perfect time, and I don't think this moment could be any more beautiful, so I'll go ahead and ask."

It was late. Jack was sprawled out on the couch, watching a colorful cartoon with rambunctious characters. It was obvious the boy was on the edge of sleep, but neither father nor son completely felt it was bedtime yet. Neither wanted the day to end.

Emily was no exception. "Alright, you've got my attention now," she said, lolling her head to the side and giving him a lazy smile. A mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and cinnamon rested on the table at her feet.

Hotch wrapped both arms around her waist from behind, urging her to rest against the sturdy wall of his chest. It was when his lips were perfectly aligned with her ear – for what had to have been the hundredth time that day – that he whispered the words he had been wanting to for the longest of times. "Spend Christmas with me."

It took all of Emily's might and restraint to not melt in his arms right then and there. "I'm not entirely sure that was a question, Aaron," she teased; but her voice shook, quivered with anticipation.

Hotch's voice, on the other hand, dripped with the driest of dry sarcasm. "You're so funny," he grumbled under his breath, kissing the back of her neck. "I wish I could somehow be as funny as you."

"I know." But Emily sobered immediately as she felt Hotch leave impossibly soft kisses all over her skin, as she heard his whispered promises to love her for forever and always. "I'm sorry I interrupted you, sweetheart," she said gently, earnestly. "I'm listening." She figured her answer to his imploring was written clear across her features, but she let him continue on anyway.

"Please say yes," he all but pleaded, taking her hands in his and squeezing. "It's all I've wanted for such a long time. You won't be forced off to Russia this year; we'll be able to make up for lost time." His eyes were bright with an excitement and enthusiasm that Emily adored. "Jack would love it," he continued, and the little boy craned his neck over the back of the couch to spare them a second-long curious glance.

And then Emily heard his next sweet words: "I would love it impossibly more."

She couldn't prevent it any longer; her heart melted, and though it proved to be just the slightest bit difficult because of the lack of couch space, she turned in his arms, moving so that she was sitting atop his lap. "Aaron...did you actually think there was a possibility that I would say no?"

Hotch looked sheepishly to the side. "Well, no, I'd hoped not, but –"

"Exactly," Emily said definitively. "Speak no more," she said, silencing him with a long, delightful kiss. "I'd love to spend Christmas with you. That much has never changed." She tried biting back her jubilant grin, but her eyes gave her away as they crinkled prettily at the corners. "I already cannot wait."

"You're amazing," he breathed out, burying his face in her hair and holding her close. He had told her many times before that he would never let her go; and he was planning on proving that a million times over. "So incredibly amazing."

"Look who's talking."

~.~.~

Hotch hated to wake Emily from her nap, but the excitement he was feeling was one that had been building for days, weeks even. "Open your eyes," he urged, purring words of encouragement in her ear to pull her from sleep. She murmured unintelligibly, her eyelashes fluttering; but overall, she just pushed him away, much to his amusement.

This time, he kissed her on the mouth, smiling against her lips when she couldn't possibly refrain from kissing him back. "Merry Christmas, Emily, love," he muttered handsomely, running a couple fingers through her dark locks.

Emily chuckled, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes as she regarded him with a straight expression on her face. "Contrary to popular belief, I do have access to a calendar. Christmas isn't until another couple days, Aaron."

The silly man grinned, caving instantly. "Okay, so maybe I just want you to open this gift early. Maybe I'm a little impatient." He wanted – no, needed – to see her reaction when she opened the box. It was something she wouldn't expect in the slightest. Neither chocolate nor jewelry; no, those were the presents she would open on Christmas day itself.

This...well, this deserved its own day. And God, he hoped beyond hope that she loved it.

Emily regarded the box with the sweetest kind of curiosity. The gift wrap was tastefully chosen, thick silver paper with white and icy blue glitter in a festive pattern. A simple bow rested atop the box, and as she undid it with slender fingers, a smile slowly curved Hotch's lips. The anticipation was building; his heart beat was quickening.

One fold of paper gave away. Then another. And another –

"God, Aaron, you're such a tease," Emily groaned out playfully, pulling the top of the gift box off and laying it beside them on the bed. "First, you make me undo a ribbon, then wrapping paper, now the actual box, then tissue paper...oh."

Hotch's breath caught in the back of his throat. The gift was silly, really, but that didn't make him want her to love it any less. "Do you like it?" he asked quietly.

It was an apron. Simple, white, just soft enough to the touch. On the middle of the chest portion, in curling black and red text, were the words kiss the cook.

Before Emily realized it, a silly little grin was on her face. She looked at her lover, their similarly sparkling gazes locking, and leaned in to seal her lips to his. "I love it, you amazing man," she whispered against the skin of his jaw. "Thank you so much. It's so unexpected...but absolutely perfect at the exact same time." She fingered the thick fabric excitedly. "All of a sudden, I want to use it right this very minute."

"You want to cook for me? Is that what you're saying?" Hotch responded cheekily, laughing as she poked his dimples in spite. "Because I wouldn't object one bit."

"Sure, that's exactly what I meant," Emily retorted sarcastically, though the mirth and love was still written into her expression. She knew what he had intended with the gift; he knew from experience that she was inexplicably at home in the kitchen. He wanted her to reacquaint herself with that happiness, that peace.

But there was something she had to do first.

Setting the apron aside with the utmost care, Emily gave Hotch a luminescent smile and pushed herself out of bed. "I have an early gift of my own to give you, you know."

"Oh, really?" His gaze followed her around the room as she discreetly pulled something from her bottom drawer and slipped into her master bathroom without another word. "Emily...baby, you can't just leave me hanging like that. Emily..."

The door opened just a sliver, just wide enough for her head to peek through for but a second. "Don't look until I tell you to," she said, shooting him a coy smile and blowing him a kiss before disappearing once more.

"What Em "

Emily smirked as she pulled the piece of red lace over her head and smoothed it down over her curves. "I love you," she said, loudly enough for him to hear her clearly on the other side of the door.

Hotch groaned deeply. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Already, his mind was creating countless scenarios, all of which were deadly in the best of ways. All he wanted her to do was open that door; he just wanted to see her before his heart stopped.

"Maybe," she said nonchalantly, running her fingers through her hair yet again, glad it was staying silky and curly. "Hopefully not. That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?"

"I miss you already," Hotch said simply, his voice husky in a way that made Emily's legs go the tiniest bit weak. Her heartbeat sped up as she placed her hand on the doorknob; would he like it? She sure hoped he would. It had gone without use ever since its purchase, and it was high time that they created memories that would last a thousand years.

A little bit of his favorite cherry lip gloss was the last angelic touch Emily needed before stepping back into the bedroom. "You don't have to miss me anymore," she said softly, and she could distinctly hear Hotch's sharp intake of breath as he realized just how close to heaven he really was. It made her delightfully giddy; any and all traces of anxiety were long gone. "Open your eyes, handsome."

He did.

Just like he had expected, his heart stopped. His jaw dropped. His breath left his body. "Holy hell," he rumbled with the utmost approval. "Emily, you look – oh my God." The red, the shimmering fabric, the pure seduction...overwhelming didn't even begin to describe it.

Emily smiled with effortless and devilish beauty as she sauntered over to him and straddled his thighs. "Merry early Christmas," she said, groaning a little in the back of her throat as Hotch kissed her without fanfare, tasting the cherry sweetness on her full red lips.

"Oh my God," Hotch repeated dumbly, his hands falling on her lace-clad hips. "You're so beautiful," he said, unspeakably shocked. "And you're mine? How – how did I become so lucky?" He smiled dazedly. "And how are you so stunning?"

"I'm all yours," Emily said softly, cupping his face in both of her palms. "There's a little story behind this negligee," she informed, watching with interest as he began fingering its lace hem, his fingers flirting with the soft and supple skin he found beneath the layer of allure. "Want to hear it?"

"Maybe later," he answered, obviously distracted. After all, what man could blame him? What man would turn down a chance at the sweetest kind of redemption? "God, I love you, Emily Prentiss."

Emily's back arched as he laid her back on the bed, kissing her fuller now. "Say it again," she moaned out, her breathing already heavy. "Aaron..."

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Hotch chanted, taking one more minute to further worship how gorgeous she looked in the red fabric before ridding her of it and letting it fall to the smooth hardwood ground. "I never want to spend another day without you by my side."

"I love you, Aaron Hotchner," Emily confessed, with all the honesty and unadulterated devotion she could muster. Then her lips curved into a beautifully feline smile. "Now shut up and make love to me."

"Yes, ma'am," Hotch growled, playfully nipping at her newly bared skin; his treasure map. "Anything for you, Emily. Anything at all."


Author's Note: I say this nearly every time I finish a multi-chapter story, but words truely cannot describe how magnificent a time I've had writing this story, and I can only hope that you've ultimately enjoyed reading it. Thank you sincerely for taking the time to do so, with every single chapter that has passed through your inbox. It's been one heck of a rollercoaster ride, but I must thank you for being able to see the beauty in even the darkest, most twisted moments. That right there is something I am so incredibly thankful for.

If you can, please leave me a review, even if you haven't before. Reviews are very nearly our only sense of compensation here on FanFiction, and they really do mean the world to us – to me. Signed or anonymous, short or long, your reviews are priceless to me; they are like the finest treasure, and I can say without a doubt that there are times I know I wouldn't have been able to keep on trekking through this beast of a story without your support and dedication. So thank you again, so very much.

Also, reviewer #1300 will get a oneshot written for the prompt of their choice! Cheers!

But remember...this story isn't complete yet. Stay tuned for the epilogue!