Chapter Fourteen
JJ, Morgan and Dave stared at her as she boarded the plane. Morgan, who was the closest to the door, rapidly took a few steps backwards as she came aboard, clearly anticipating a stench. Her hands were outstretched, her trousers and shoes covered in the mess. Behind her, Hotch was carrying both of their go-bags.
"I thought you said you weren't hungover?" Morgan asked, looking at her with a expression caught somewhere between amusement and disgust.
Angry, uncomfortable and embarrassed, Emily glared back at him.
"I'm not," She insisted, shortly. "This is not mine. Even at the ripe old age of thirty, Dr Reid can't hold his damn liquor. He is never allowed to drink, ever again. Ever, ever, ever again. Does everybody hear me? I am putting my foot down."
Her voice had risen to a hysterical level. JJ nodded, quickly. Rossi was hiding behind his book, covering the smirk that was trying to evolve into a laugh. As Reid climbed into the cabin behind her, Morgan taunted him.
"You made mom maaaaad," He grinned, drawing out the vowel. It was only when Emily glare turned into a furious expression of shock, her mouth open in a wide 'o', that the smile swiftly fell from his face and Morgan slid into his seat, his back to her.
"Mom?" She mouthed, soundlessly, at JJ, who could only give her an apologetic shake of the head. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Jayje, do you have anything I can change into?"
"Sorry," She replied, with another shake of the head. "Nothing clean."
"Yeah, me either," Emily complained, "I'm going to have to put yesterdays jeans back on."
"I've -uh, I've got a pair of sweats," Hotch's voice came from behind her. "I didn't wear them," He didn't have to explain why. They both knew why. Even JJ knew why, "You can borrow them, if you want."
Given the current state of her attire, Emily was in no position to rebuff his offer, and she was actually grateful for it, so while Reid sheepishly settled himself into a chair and buried his head beneath a blanket, the two of them set off towards the back of the plane, Hotch still carrying the bags, and JJ giving Emily a pointed look as they passed.
Covered in vomit as she was, Emily was hardly in a sexy mood, so she rolled her eyes at the blonde and ignored the smirk that passed JJ's lips.
"Give the kid a break," Hotch told her, as they disappeared behind the curtain that split the plane, "It's not often he lets his hair down."
"Oh, run in the family, does it?" She mocked, still annoyed. Hotch raised an eyebrow, amused, and tilted his head in agreement.
"Fair enough, I'm not one to talk, but we weren't wrong; you have had a couple of slip ups yourself. This is one of Reid's that we'll laugh about sooner or later."
"Later," She hissed, as Hotch set down the go bags and began to dig around inside his own, "Much later."
The sweats he produced were grey, and for a moment, Emily was almost disappointed she hadn't seen him in them last night. She recognised them, though, from training sessions and, most recently, from when he had been training for his triathalon.
"Thanks," She said, her voice softer now, as she took them from him. She glanced towards the rest of them, then back at Hotch, catching his eyes. Tilting her head, she tried to speak, but he interrupted.
"Later," He promised, nodding, and left her to head back to the others.
"Later," She agreed, aloud, to nobody.
"Wit woo," JJ whistled, when she emerged from the bathroom wearing Hotch's sweats and a clean, though very creased, t-shirt she had found at the bottom of her go bag, and just her socks. Rolling her eyes, she flopped into the seat beside the blonde and lay her head on JJ's shoulder. "Sleepy?"
Emily slapped JJ's arm lightly, in response to the leading question. JJ chuckled, low in her throat, and returned to hte book she had been reading, leaning her head against Emily's.
"Thanks," She repeated, to Hotch, who was sitting opposite them. He nodded, and said nothing. Reid, beside him, was fast asleep. "Poor kid. Was I too harsh?"
"Maybe a little," Morgan perked up, from the seat across the aisle.
"You don't get a vote," She spoke sharply, and it was Morgan's turn to look wounded. "Mom."
The rest of them burst into laughter, including Hotch. Beneath the table, Emily kicked him.
"Hey," She said, "If I'm mom, what do you think they call you?"
Hotch's face fell as the realisation dawned on him, and he looked, questioningly, between JJ and Morgan, both of whom avoided his gaze pointedly.
"For the record," JJ piped up, after a moment of silence, "I have never referred to you as mom."
"Good," Emily noted, "Because that would be really weird."
Emily tried to ignore the stares as they entered the bullpen. Used to seeing professional Agent Prentiss, the sight of her in sweats (which were obviously many sizes too big anyway) instead of her usual black pant suits or skirts, drew curious and confused glances from most people in the room. JJ was trying not to look amused by it; Morgan, on the other hand, made no show of hiding how funny he was finding the situation. Reid headed straight to the coffee, not entirely sure whether Emily had forgiven him and therefore unwilling to engage in the situation at all, while Hotch followed the other three down the aisle of desks and then headed up towards his office.
"Casual Mondays," He clapped Anderson on the back as they passed him. He looked twice as confused as he had in the first place.
"Thank you," Emily rolled her eyes at him, dumping her bags on her desk. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going down to the locker room, where I do actually, thankfully, have a change of clothes."
She disappeared from the room as quickly as they had arrived and, this time, it wasn't just the other agents who watched her. Morgan was smirking when he turned back to his desk and happened to chance a glance up towards Hotch's office. Their chief was standing in his doorway, hands thrust deep in his pockets. At first, Morgan thought Hotch was looking at him, but when Hotch didn't react to his raised eyebrows, Morgan turned, following Hotch's eye line straight out of the door.
"They told me I'd find you down here," Penelope's voice was exactly what Emily needed to hear right now, and the grin on her face as the blonde rounded the corner was genuine. She was pulled into a tight hug, engulfed by the sweet scent of her friends perfume, and closed her eyes, content for the moment to relax with the only friend who hadn't either seen her covered in puke or interrogated her about last night. Yet. "They also told me about the sweats," She said, letting go of Emily and taking her appearance in with her bespectacled eyes. Shaking her head, she sat down on one of the benches. "Emily Prentiss, it's a good job you look good in everything, let me tell you that, because Hotch's grey sweats are barely flattering on him."
Letting out a laugh, Emily opened her locker and hid the smirk that graced her features inside of it as she rooted around for a change of clothes. It just wouldn't do to tell Garcia just how much she disagreed with that statement; and she disagreed wholeheartedly.
"Speaking of Hotch," She tensed, praying JJ hadn't already mentioned it to her, "Did he behave himself while you were away?"
Depends what you mean by behave.
"What do you mean?" Emily feigned innocence, as she pulled a pair of jeans and black jumper out of the locker. She quickly changed, aware that Penelope had seen her in worse states of undress than just her underwear on several drunken girls nights out, and stowed Hotch's sweats back into her bag. She'd only worn them for a few hours, but still thought it would be best if she took them home to wash before handing them back to him.
"I mean was he an ass or did he apologise?" Penelope pressed, "You were right about your theory, after all. He completely shut you down before you left, and then you were right. That must have tasted absolutely delectable. I wish I'd been there to see his face. You know I love the boss man with my whole heart, but sometimes I do love to see that ego quenched just a little bit."
"Oh, that," Emily shrugged, "Yeah, he apologised."
"Who apologised?" JJ appeared from behind the lockers, carrying a large mug of coffee, having just entered the room. She had clearly been directed down here by one of the boys and as she and Garcia hugged, Emily tried to explain quickly and briefly, wanting to be very done with this conversation and get back to work as soon as possible.
"Oh, just Hotch, about the unsubs," She was trying to brush it off, as she dug around in her make up bag for the basics she needed to apply to her face to look somewhat presentable.
"He did?" JJ queried, "At dinner? I didn't hear."
"No," It took everything inside of Emily not to reply through gritted teeth. Come on, JJ. "Not at dinner. After dinner. Last night."
The pointed look she wanted to give JJ would not have gotten by without Penelope spotting it and demanding to know what they were keeping from her, so Emily hoped there was enough meaning in her tone that JJ would catch on without digging any deeper. Apparently, she got the hint, because she and Garcia started talking about the boys instead, and how much JJ had missed them.
"That's what I came down to tell you," She directed at Emily, "Hotch said since there have been no cases called in yet we can go home for a few hours. He said he's staying here and if anything comes up, he'll call us."
"That's great," Emily sighed, relieved. She wanted to find a medic and get her bandage seen to, and then head home. Even if it was only for a few hours; a few hours of sleep, alone, in her own bed, was definitely a must right now.
Then there was the 'later' that Hotch had promised her. The conversation she knew they were going to have to have because, though it felt to her like it couldn't possibly have been only a few hours ago, they had spent the night together. Perhaps not in every sense of the phrase, but they both knew that the only reason for that was that Emily still had her wits about her. Remembering the low chuckle Hotch had given when she'd told him they couldn't, Emily almost shared his sentiment.
"If I'm wishing for things, maybe I wish you were."
She knew exactly how things would have gone if they were both drunk and, given the way things had abruptly ended this morning, she doubted either of them would feel very good about it right now. As it was, however, Emily could think back on their last few days and, instead of feeling confused and worried, she just felt smug and like they shared a naughty secret. And, perhaps, just a tiny bit confused about it all. Maybe.
A/N
It's almost 8am and I've not slept so you know what that means...have a chap.
You guys still with me? Let me know what you like - do you want me to get back to the raunchy stuff? Do you like a little bit of exposition? Hotch or Emily perspective? I always feel like I write Emily better, but it's fun to occasionally get into Hotch's head.
Thanks for the feedback guys, it's really appreciated x
Stay safe. Stay inside. Wash yer feckin hands xo
Steph
