A/N: Hi everyone - just a little thank you - you never fail to make me beam. Reading your comments and messages from the last few days made my day. This one was a bit of a labor of love, for sure. I went back and forth with SO many parts (if you could have seen the hot mess google doc that was this chapter) and definitely had a few facepalm moments over the last week. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. As always, enjoy!
Chapter 39: The Scientist
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions
Oh, let's go back to the start
Aaron completely misses the shelf when setting the glass down, and it smashes to the ground into hundreds of tiny slivers. In the dim light of his living room, they sparkle on the ground like tiny crystals. He doesn't even care that he's barefoot on the tile.
"Leave it," he says when she hesitates a moment, sidestepping the glass, before he slides his hands right into her hair, his mouth covering hers. She's hardly prepared for how quickly he moves, and clutches his shoulders as he backs her up right into the wall with a thud. Neither of them even notice the water droplets that fly off her raincoat..
"Jesus, Aaron." Emily sweeps her hands across his chest, fingers tightening around his shirt. "What the hell?" She's trying to get leverage on him but he's so much stronger, sliding his leg between hers to keep her against the wall. He can barely attend to anything except the fact that she's here, in front of him, willing and he's kissing her with an ardent intensity. Aaron moves both hands along her face, kissing her again as she hooks an arm around his neck, tries to get a leg around his waist. But he pushes it down and presses his knee between her legs again with a bit more pressure, and her hips buck into him. There's adrenaline and history and years of waiting that make both of them persistent and impatient in his efforts.
"Slow down, Aaron," Emily soothes, sounding calmer than she feels, because the zeal of his gaze and his touch isn't the Aaron she's known. He seems almost desperate to touch her, as if she'll evaporate right before his eyes. "We have all night, you know." She reaches up with a cautious hand, slipping it through his hair and slides her tongue against his when he kisses her once more. "I didn't come all the way here to go back to Arlington, you know." She laughs into his mouth, strokes her fingers through his hair again. "Plus, it's pouring. I'm not going anywhere."
That seems to snap him out of wherever he was just now, pulling back just enough that they both can breathe, his eyes heavy and dark. "I'm sorry," he pants, hair falling over his brow. "I got a little carried away."
"I know." The apologetic smile on his face, makes her grin right back at him in reassurance. She tips her forehead against his and cups her hand around the back of his neck. "I know."
"How the hell do you get this off?" Aaron fumbles with the belt of her jacket, which has entirely too much fabric for his liking, the wet material slippery under his hands. This only seems to cinch it tighter around her waist and he curses in frustration. He's fumbling with it, unable to actually get his hands around the buckle because he can hardly see straight, let alone maneuver women's fashion.
"Let me," she says with a sheepish smile. Her hands are much more nimble than his, and she gets the buckle undone and the belt loosened in half the time. "Not so hard, right?"
He pushes the jacket off her shoulders into a damp heap on the ground, his face in her neck, his hands smoothing over her waist and up to her chest. She's still wearing too many clothes, he thinks in annoyance. But instead he just grunts in response to her little quip.
All Aaron wants to do is touch her, to relearn every inch of her, but the wall behind her is unforgiving, and nowhere close to how this should go. He's imagined this exact moment more times than he can count, none of which include her shoved wantonly against the wall in his apartment. It seems too crass, rushed, and cheap. He moves a little farther back, bringing her with him in his arms, as if to see if she still fits the way she did years ago.
She does, and he damn near breathes a sigh of relief.
"What is it?" Emily breathes against his ear, her nails digging into his back through his shirt, her hips already starting to rock against his knee that's still pressed into her.
"Not here." He's staring at her, just staring, as if he's searching for permission or something, because he'd never just assume; he knows her better than that.
Emily takes a deep breath, nodding her head, which is the only impetus he needs before he gets his hands underneath of her, dipping and lifting her up to secure her legs around his waist. He bounces a little to get her high enough that she doesn't slip, and her arms wrap around his neck as their mouths meet in another heated kiss.
There's only a short hallway between here and his bedroom, but time blurs in his mind as he walks them down, kicking the door open.
The light is on; he must have forgotten about it earlier. But he can't bring himself to turn it off, because he can't fathom not being able to see her, to watch her face contort with pleasure. So he bypasses the switch, and lowers down onto his bed with her still in his arms. She's clinging to him, legs around his hips and arms around his neck, like she's afraid to let go.
"Em," he whispers, now that it's his turn to ease her fears. "You gotta let go for a second, sweetheart." He touches his lips to hers, lightly, to reassure more than anything else, and she acquiesces to him, unable to tear her eyes away. It gives him a few moments to get his hands underneath of her, and her shirt over her head before going for the buttons on her jeans. Those pose more of a challenge. "Damn buttons."
"You used to be better at this," she jokes lightly, her hands moving down to make quicker work of her pants.
"I'm a little rusty." But then he gets the jeans down past her hips and she gets them off the rest of the way.
Aaron takes a few seconds to look at her, taking in the dips of her waist, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs, the sharp angles of her collarbones. Her hips are fuller than they were back then, her stomach the slightest bit softer. It brings back every memory he's catalogued in a mental rolodex, the ones he never managed to fully forget, and even though all he wants to do is bury himself inside her, he's not about to rush one second of this. Instead, he just stares at her, lifting her to his chest to kiss her collarbones and lowering her back down, kissing down her arm and then to her hips. He gets her legs apart, trailing his fingers along the smooth skin of her inner thighs, and something catches his eye.
"What's this?" He bows a bit to look at the tattoo on her leg, and he's silent for a few long moments, running his finger along the black ink, tracing the lines. It's faded just a little now but it still looks the same - sometimes she even forgets about it -but he's never seen it, and it's clear he makes the connection immediately. He doesn't say anything else, just takes a few more seconds to look at it. But then his attention shifts and he brushes his knuckles over the red lace between her legs a few times, listening to her breath hitching in her throat. It has the desired effect, as she lifts her hips up as if asking him to do it again.
"What are you doing, Aaron?" She lifts on her elbows to watch him, her eyes hooded and fanned with her thick, dark eyelashes. She's never been shy, especially with him, but she looks nervous, because the balance of power is clearly in his hands. He's clearly enjoying himself, she notes, biting her lip in anticipation.
"Just looking at you." And he continues his inspection with reverent eyes, relearning all the places he'd loved to kiss, and finding a few new ones along the way.
Emily blushes underneath him when all of her clothes are in a pile somewhere by the floor. "Not fair," she murmurs, sliding her fingers through his hair as he's bent over her, dropping kisses along her collarbone. He's taking his time. Damn him and his thoroughness.
"What isn't fair?" He pulls her up from the mattress just enough to unclasp her bra and drag it down her arms, tossing it behind him.
"What about you?" She's referring to his clothes - the old t-shirt and sweatpants he'd thrown on hours ago, frowning slightly. "Why are you still wearing those?"
"What's the rush?" He lowers his head to her stomach, kissing the planes and the curve of her ribcage before his teeth scrape over the bones there too. She's shaking just enough that he can feel her move under his mouth which is a dead giveaway that somewhere in her mind, she's nervous too. "Relax," he whispers into her skin. "You said you weren't leaving."
"I'm not."
"Good." Aaron shifts, moving his head up and closing his lips around her nipple, while his other hand goes for the other breast, giving a gentle caress, then a firm squeeze. Emily arches into his mouth, a surprised whimper escaping from her, before he switches to the other side. "God, I missed you."
"Did you?" She cups his head and holds him closer to her chest, his forehead somewhere close to where her heart is still pounding.
He grunts something she can't make out, but judging by the way his teeth sink down on her nipple just hard enough she whines for him to do it again, she knows it's a confirmation.
Show me, then." It sounds strained, as if she's trying to maintain composure, but he knows better than that. She lifts her hips suggestively, indicating exactly what she wants, even if she doesn't directly ask. There's an element of nerve, of wanting it to be what it always was, while knowing it'll never be exactly the same.
Aaron's eyes darken, a slight glaze in them already, and he kisses her again, this time just a little more forcefully than a moment ago. "These need to go too." He cups her between her legs, the heel of his hand hitting her clit through the lacy fabric, not once but twice, and he doesn't have to go any further to know she's already wet, dripping actually. He gets his finger underneath the hem and she lifts her hips to help him the rest of the way. They get added to the pile somewhere; finding them is tomorrow Emily's job. There isn't much she can focus on right now, especially like this. When he shifts over her, his body spreading over hers, she hardly recognizes the noise that comes out of her when his hand drifts over her stomach and further down.
Aaron's hand between her legs might just be what sends her over the edge, him too if he's not careful. He's barely even gotten started before she's already whimpering again. In fact, he hasn't actually moved his hand yet, just keeps applying gentle pressure here and a few tiny circles there, experimenting, then the finger that's slipped inside of her easily becomes two. Nope, he's going to take his time, drag this out as long as he can. "Aaron," she attempts to sound like there's some presence of mind, but whatever is left is evaporating, as her eyes close only to open again, watching him.
He knows what she's asking; she's already starting to clench around his hand. "I'm going to make you come Emily," he murmurs into her ear, starting to slide his fingers in and out of her. "It's been awhile since you have, hasn't it?"
"Aaron," is what she says, but it comes out sounding something like a moan, his name one blurred syllable, coupled with a cry as her hips rock into his hand, seeking anything to take the edge off. "Please." She needs him like she needs air at this point.
"How long, sweetheart?" The second finger is joined by a third and her eyes roll back, her legs tremble, and Aaron kisses her to bring her attention back.
Words don't want to form - there's another half-hearted attempt at a response, and at this point he's unable to deny her anything, so he skates his thumb across her clit three times. That gets another reaction, one he likes, and he twists his fingers inside of her and presses up, hitting that spot. She nearly flies off the bed.
"Fuck," she stutters, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, one arm thrown over her face. "Oh my God. Again, p-please."
Some things, he thinks, never change. "Oh sweetheart, I haven't even gotten started." And then he pulls his hand back, and Emily's bereft wail only makes him smirk. He moves up next to her head, running his fingers through her hair lovingly as she glares at him. His slow, deliberate touches are a direct contrast to her impatience, and it only adds to her visible, mounting frustration.
"Why the fuck did you stop?" She gets a leg around his waist, rocks her hips, whining again when he moves away even further.
"I think you might enjoy this more," he says, low and dark in her ear, followed by a kiss that makes her dizzy. Then his hand is expertly moving between her legs again, and the moan that escapes this time tells him it won't be long. He coaxes the first one out of her with the pad of his thumb and his voice in her ear. It takes only a few minutes before she's practically writhing in his bed, a near constant string of vocalizations coming from her. He murmurs to her, talks her up until she's begging him. "You're so close, aren't you?" He flicks and presses his thumb, and then does it again, shushing her with another well-timed kiss. "I haven't forgotten," he whispers in her ear, "Exactly how to make you scream." And then, like on cue, she does, with a sharp cry and another arch of her spine as her legs start to shake. He's prepared for it and even though she tries to twist away, the sensation of it all too intense, he pins her hips down with one hand, her left leg with his knee, and strokes her through it, not even concerned that she most likely woke at least one neighbor beside him.
"My God." Emily's chest is still heaving, her skin now flushed red as Aaron moves up to settle next to her. He presses his hand to her heart, a kiss to the side of her breast, then his lips to hers. She looks completely dazed, her movements uncoordinated as she reaches for him and completely misses.
"Not exactly, but I'm flattered." He looks ridiculously proud of himself, a shit-eating grin on his face as he trails his fingers over her stomach again.
"You're such an ass." She slaps his shoulder good-naturedly, taking a few deep breaths as her heart stops racing. "Sometimes."
He feigns hurt, then winks. "Sweetheart, I wouldn't hurl insults right before I'm about to make you come again."
Her eyes widen in surprise. Surely he can't be serious - she's barely recovered from the first one. "Aaron you can't be -"
He gives her a quick reassuring kiss, hardly giving her any time to think about his intentions. Aaron shoulders her legs open, resting her knees up and over his arms. There's nothing quite like the intimacy of this, she thinks with a shudder as he kisses her inner thighs. She's not used to it -years have passed since they've been this close- but it's him and despite everything that's happened, there's an innate element of trust she has in him like this she's had with no other.
She's still sensitive from before so when he spreads her open again with his fingers he's gentle, and it's only seconds until his mouth is on her now, his tongue delving inside of her and Emily loses all semblance of thought. He gives her one long, languid lick, the flat of his tongue against her and her fingers are in his hair for leverage. Another stroke of his tongue, coupled with the push of it inside once again sends her right into her second climax. It rips through her in a series of waves. She grabs at his hair and pulls, his name falling from her lips as she rides it out, his mouth still moving but casually, until she finally stills.
"Get up here and kiss me, Aaron," she rasps, reaching for him with unsteady hands.
Aaron moves up her body again, soothing the spots his teeth had caught earlier. Her stomach is covered with little red marks by now that will be more noticeable tomorrow, and this time he leaves a few extra ones on her hips for good measure. He finally comes to rest between her legs again, hovering above her, his eyes on hers. "You're so beautiful, you know that, right?"
"You always say that." Emily blushes, her fingers running over his face. "Even before you always did."
"Because you are." He leaves a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I'll never stop telling you that." He leans over to the night stand drawer, digging around for one of the shiny foil packets in the box he hasn't actually opened.
She flushes scarlet, shaking her head and swatting his hand away from the drawer. "Don't worry about it."
"You mean we don't need -"
She silences him with a kiss, or something along the lines of one, licking into this mouth and taking control. At this point all she wants is him inside of her, even after how sensitive she is, thanks to the two orgasms she's already had.
"Emily." He's hovering above her, not moving until she gives the okay.
She nods her head, resting her hands on his shoulders.
He shifts, she lifts, locking her legs around his back with her knees pressed into his sides. There's a moment of adjustment as he hovers above her, strokes himself twice before the initial press into her, and then the pinch and stretch of her body relearning his. It's familiar and yet completely foreign. It makes her eyes water and her heart ache for all the years they've missed, for every moment that brought them back to this very place. Aaron planned on doing this slowly (for both of their sakes) but Emily has other ideas, clearly. She tightens her legs around him, digging her heels into his lower back and lifting her hips up to take him in further. He can't resist and pushes in the rest of the way, having to remind himself how to breathe when he finally can't go any further. "Oh my God, Aaron." She tightens her hold on his shoulders, her breath starting to come in tiny pants.
"Fuck, Emily," he mutters as she bites her lip and her eyes close, then open again. "That wasn't … I didn't mean to -" He touches his hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing away one of the tears that have beaded in the corner of her eye. "Sweetheart," he begins, his eyes never leaving hers yet he's unable to formulate words for his question, using his other thumb to wipe away the tear from her other eye.
"I'm fine," she says, her head nestled amongst his pillows and her hair spread out like a dark wave. "That's not why." She doesn't have to elaborate; he already knows what she means. Emily bows her head, burying her face into his neck, scraping her nails down his back as he remains still, leaving kisses on her neck and shoulders, not daring to move just yet. "Aaron, move. Please," she chokes, pushing her hips into his.
He holds himself up with one hand, brings hers over her head with the other hand, linking their fingers together as he sets a pace that makes her eyes burn. It's not exactly gentle but insistent, slow, intense. His movements are deliberate, a reminder of just how well he's remembered. Not that she's forgotten, either.
"You feel so fucking good," he growls, his hand squeezing hers as he takes her closer and closer to her peak. "Emily." His own end is near, but he'll be damned if he goes before she does. He whispers a few other things that make her simultaneously blush and smile before picking up his pace at her urging. It's a relief for him, too, the way she's now meeting his insistence with a fervor of her own.
There's a slew of single-syllable words coming from her, an incoherent string of affirmations and expletives in between pants, and Aaron releases her hands to bring his arm down to slide beneath her, pulling her to his chest before he sends her into her third orgasm. This time, she starts to flutter around him, her back arching and her arms tightening around his neck, moaning into his mouth when he puts his lips to hers. The squeeze of her around him sends him over too, his hips giving one final thrust before spilling into her with a groan.
It takes her a few minutes to regather her wits, but it takes him even longer, which makes her feel oddly triumphant for some reason. She stays quiet, her audible breaths soon slowing, and she reaches for the sheets, stealing a few glances in his direction.
"I'd say we're not too out of practice, actually" Aaron jokes, leaving a kiss on her cheek before he gets up and disappears down the hallway. He returns a short moment later, carrying a glass of water and a warm towel once he's able to move again. He knows her rituals even now, and averts his eyes as she cleans up the reminder of them both from between her legs as a silence falls between them.
Over the years, silence is something they've had a lot of. Intentional silence, years of silence, blissful silence. This time, it's contemplative silence, each of them comforted by the presence of the other, yet unable to formulate the thoughts to explain the total culmination of the tension between them, what's been brewing since she's been back. It's oddly disorienting, but his hand finds hers, giving a gentle squeeze, a reminder that he's still there. He breathes a sigh of relief when she squeezes back.
"When did you get a tattoo?" It's the first thing he asks, questioningly and cautiously. There's still so much he doesn't know. "You never mentioned it."
She isn't looking at him, but instead the ceiling, as if she'll find the answer there. "A long time ago. Sometimes I forget I even have it." It's true - it reminds her of a different time, a memory of dark days and even darker thoughts, but it's part of her now, so she turns to her side and smiles at him as convincingly as she can. "You know what it is, right?"
"I thought it looked familiar." He brushes her hair from her face, cups her cheek. "Do you still have … the necklace?"
"Of course." What she doesn't tell him is it's hidden somewhere in a drawer. She hasn't been able to wear it again, but she'd never get rid of it. Maybe one day.
He seems to like that answer, even if it's not the full truth, and he pulls her into his arms, a hand on her lower back and his other on her head, drawing her a little closer when he feels the pebbled skin under his fingers. "Are you cold?"
"A little. Why?"
"You're shaking." He pulls the covers up, reaching for the thicker blanket even though he thinks it's warm in his room, and she smiles appreciatively. "You feel like an ice cube." Drawing her a little closer, he tucks her head under his chin and kisses her temple. "You ok? You're so quiet."
"I'm just thinking," she says quietly. "I'm okay."
"About what?" The heaviness in her voice is something he's heard before, which makes him nervous.
"How long has it been?" She wonders, tracing back through her memories of the years, some unbearably painful. "Since the last time we …" Emily trails off. She rests her head against his chest, closing her eyes with a sigh.
"Too long." He brings his hand up to stroke her hair, threading his fingers through it. It's a reminder of how much he's always loved her hair. "I missed you." There's something about it that still feels incredibly wrong to say, even if he's already said it more than once. "What made you change your mind...about this?"
She turns on her side to face him, propping herself up on one elbow, a soft smile on her face. "It was … a couple of things. I don't know. In Miami, seeing JJ with Will … he was going to walk away. Right out of her life, because that's what he thought she wanted. I didn't … I didn't want you to do … I don't know." She looks uncomfortable, clearly put on the spot. Talking about her own emotions has never exactly been a strength of hers. "I didn't want you to do the same."
"I think it's clear I wouldn't do that, Emily."
What's clear is that was not the right thing to say. Her face darkens like a stormcloud; she puts a few inches of space between them.
"But you've done it before." It's the way she doesn't look away, how she doesn't even flinch when she says it that gets him. As painful of a memory it is, she lived through it, it's part of her, and she's smart enough to know better this time. Despite what they've built since she's been part of the BAU, what they've been through, and how they've grown, some of the old shadows of doubt are still there, roaring their way back.
He's not entirely surprised. Aaron reaches over, touches her face, cups her cheek. There isn't much he can say to assure her right now; it has to be earned back. "Emily, I think we've both come a long way since then."
"But a lot has happened, Aaron." She looks away, even though his hand is still on her face. "And despite how far we've come, I haven't forgotten any of it."
"I know." He brushes his thumb back and forth a few times, feeling the skin flush under his fingertip.
"Do you ever think about it? Everything?"
He does. Every damn day. "Of course I do, Emily."
"I don't know." She attempts to roll over and turn away but he keeps her in place, unwilling to let her shy away from the conversation they need to have. It's what ruined them the last time. He's not willing to make the same mistake twice.
"Talk to me, Sweetheart. Please. Just talk to me."
"I … this is why I told you before we shouldn't do this." The adrenaline and thrill of it all is starting to wear off, and now they're faced with the heavy reality of the situation, and the consequences that lie ahead. "There's a lot to consider."
"What do you mean, consider?"
"I don't know how I feel about … going all in again. Being something … real."
Something real. "But earlier you said -"
"I know. And … I'm not denying what I said earlier. But I don't - I can't - if this doesn't work out then what do we -" She looks afraid, a glimpse of the old Emily ghosting her features.
"Emily, Em. Sweetheart." He reaches for her hands that are pressed over her face, pulling at her wrists gently. "You're jumping so far ahead of things. We just -"
"But am I? The last time we … look what happened, Aaron. We got so far in over our heads and when we realized it, it was too late. We crashed and burned."
He flinches at her words, taken aback at her honesty, and he has to search his own that don't come.
"You may have moved on quickly, but I wasn't as lucky." Her cheeks are red with embarrassment by now. "I can't do that to myself again, Aaron. I won't."
"You aren't the only one who never exactly moved on, Emily." It's a quiet admission, his own eyes downcast.
That seems to silence her for a few moments, until she takes a deep breath. "But you weren't the one who had your heart broken, Aaron. I know things are different. I know we've had time. A lot of time. But I need to think about this." She rolls over, her back to him, bringing her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry for bringing this up. If you want me to go, I will."
"Stop, Emily. You know that's not what I want." With a heavy sigh he pulls her into his arms, her back against his chest, slipping an arm around her waist. At first she's hesitant, stiff as a board against him but eventually she relaxes into him, yawning hugely as the fatigue in her body catches up with her mind. It's a start, a tentative step in the right direction.
"I'm so tired." She brings her hand to cover his, tentatively. "Thanks for not kicking me out," she adds, her words heavy with exhaustion. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. We'll find a way," Aaron whispers over her shoulder, the same words he'd used before, many years ago. He doesn't expect a response and he doesn't get one. It has to be early morning by now; luckily they have a later start tomorrow. It'll buy them a few extra hours of sleep, even though it won't be nearly enough. "Close your eyes. Get some rest. I'll wake you up in the morning." He kisses the spot on her neck he can reach, and he hears Emily sigh just the tiniest bit before snuggling against him. For now, it's enough.
Soon after, she's sleeping soundly against him, and he succumbs to his own exhaustion soon after, his body curled around hers and an arm around her waist. It's how they stay until the next morning.
…
By some luck of the draw, he ends up in Boston on a case with Rossi two days later, and she's in Silver Spring with JJ, Morgan, and Reid.
His case is one of those that linger for awhile - a victim of battered woman syndrome about to be convicted of murdering her abusive husband. The BAU handles a stalker situation. It's an unusual case for them, but JJ seems determined to take it on, doing so with a ferocity Emily's never seen in her.
Emily's glad she can be there for her, because she seems a tiny bit off for a reason she can't quite put her finger on just yet. JJ takes the case hard, and incredibly personally, and after it's all over, Emily suggests drinks, because they both clearly have a lot on their minds. Knocking a few back wouldn't be such a bad idea.
"I wish I could," JJ says regretfully but with a grateful smile. "I'm … I'm really just not feeling great." She looks pale and tired, like she could use a break, a nap, or a vacation. "I think I'm going to head home … eat some ice cream. Raincheck?"
"Sounds about right," Emily nods in agreement, trying to hide her slight disappointment. She's not quite ready to go home, and seeing Allison probably isn't the best idea either. It would take her friend less than five minutes to figure out what had happened between her and Aaron the other day. "And yeah. Next time."
The space while he's in Boston and she's in Silver Spring is good - some time away is needed. They talk on the phone a few times - he keeps it light, making a few jokes about Dave's near celebrity status with the Boston District Attorney's office. It makes her laugh, but she's not even close to being in the same headspace as him. He senses it, yet he doesn't push it.
But after the case is done and he's on his way home, she finds herself dialing his phone with a quick prayer Rossi can't tell it's her on the other line.
"Hey."
Good. simple. Nondescript. She breathes a quick sigh of relief when he answers. "How's the drive?"
"Not bad." He's being purposefully vague, even though Dave already knows exactly who is on the other end of the phone call. It's more for her sake than his. "How are things going over there?"
"Uhm." She stumbles over words. "It's alright. We wrapped the case a few hours ?"
"We're still in Pennsylvania. A couple more hours left." Aaron glances over at Dave, whose eyes are firmly on the road. "You sound upset."
"I'm … Uh. Do you have Jack tonight?"
"He's with Haley," Aaron says smoothly. "Is everything alright?"
"It's … it's been a tough day." She's quiet, obtuse, and the fact that she doesn't give him a straight answer tells him everything he needs to know.
"I'll be there in a few hours."
She objects, telling him she's fine, that it's not necessary, but he knows better.
True to his word, he shows up at her door soon after saying goodbye to Dave in the parking lot in Quantico. Emily doesn't say anything, just wraps her fingers around his tie and drags him the few steps into her apartment before slamming the door.
Aaron's mouth is hot on her skin, his hands touching her everywhere and it burns to the point of pain. This time is more frantic than their first encounter a few days ago. It's going to leave her bruised and sore - the marble countertop has done a number on her back, let alone the imprint of his hands seared into her hips. But he goes down on her, lifting her right on the counter as soon as he walks in the door. Then fucks her hard and fast, bent over the back of the couch. He finishes with her, legs almost collapsing on them both. It's exactly what she needs to forget about the last few days.
The comedown is longer, and the total opposite of their coupling less than an hour before. She's on her side, so is he, wrapped together like two halves of a whole. "Your skin is different, you know," he says into the dark after they're finally able to breathe again. He's been rubbing her back for the last five minutes. "I noticed it last week … it's softer."
She knits her eyebrows together, eyeing him with curiosity.
"I can't explain it," he says with a sheepish grin, pulling her closer. "But I like it."
"Your arms are bigger." Emily whispers back, squeezes the muscles in his bicep. "You didn't have those in your security days."
"Have you been checking me out, Prentiss?" He quips. "Sounds unprofessional."
Emily laughs. "I think I've earned the right to, you know." She gives the other arm a deft squeeze. "You could toss me around with those."
His eyes darken as he grabs her by the upper arms, using sheer strength to lift and settle her so she's straddling his lap again, her knees on either side of his hips. "Why don't we test that theory?" His hands slide to her hips, rolling them back and forth as her head tips back, a flush rising to her bare chest.
"Deal."
…
They slip back into a familiar intimacy, reminiscent of years ago, yet a stark contrast to what they were before. There's history but there's also a refined, renewed, fragile trust that's been slowly rebuilding over time. It's subtle, but it's there - an equal mix of give and take. He doesn't push and she doesn't doubt (at least not as much). It's another step, this time in the right direction.
Dealing with Haley since he moved out hasn't gotten any easier, not that he thought it would. They keep things relatively amicable in Jack's presence, but most of their exchanges are awkward to say the least. They don't fight, but they don't need to, because the tension between them both is enough. He knows he's responsible for most of it, so he does his best to meet her on her terms, letting her call most of the shots.
"He needs a new lunch box," Aaron says as he passes over his son's backpack and overnight bag in the driveway of the house. His old house. He's distracted, because he's running fifteen minutes late, and he'd told Emily he was leaving almost a half hour ago. "Something spilled in that one and it won't come out. I tried washing it a few times."
"I'll take care of it," Haley says, scooping up Jack's things. "We're going to the store anyway. I'm sure I can find something that works."
Aaron glances at his watch, shifting from foot to foot while Haley sets Jack's things down in the front seat of the car. Glancing at his watch again, he frowns, because it's already going to be a forty minute drive to her house. 66 will be a parking lot at this hour, he thinks.
"You have somewhere to be?" Haley catches him instantly, a knowing look in her eyes mixed with something else. It's a question and she's prying at the same time - gathering information yet feeling him out too.
It catches him off guard, and he stumbles for an appropriate response, running his hand through his hair, his hand sliding back to the empty holster on his belt. "No. I don't want to hit traffic on my way back." It's not worth getting into it now. She doesn't have to know.
"You're sleeping with Emily again." He expects to hear bitterness in her voice but he doesn't. Haley's voice is more like a confirmation than a question. It's as if she already knows the answer, and almost as if she's relieved.
"Haley, can we discuss this -"
She holds up her hand to cut him off mid sentence. "Aaron, there's something I need to tell you. Something I haven't told you." She glances at him, then at the ground, then back up at him. "I slept with someone … while we were … we were still together."
It hits him like a harsh slap in the face, a final twist of a knife. He shouldn't care at this point but he does, and the blood rushes from his head in the seconds immediately following her revelation. "What? What are you saying?" It's like the air goes from his lungs too, because he stumbles over his words. "This happened … when?
"It only happened twice." Haley can't meet his gaze; she stubs the ground with her shoe. "One of Jessica's friends. She doesn't know … please don't tell her."
"Twice." His jaw tightens. "Once is a terrible mistake at best. Twice is ...you really have no excuse."
"I was angry, Aaron. Hurt and angry and lost and … it wasn't supposed to happen, but it did, and … I'm sorry. I was so angry at you."
"Angry." He scoffs, scowling at her. "Like that makes a difference? We were married. I wasn't perfect, I never claimed to be, but I never cheated on you, Haley. When did this happen?"
"After I found out about Emily. A little while after the Superbowl." She glances back at the car, at their son in his carseat. From the backseat, Jack waves through the window, a coloring book in one hand and a fistful of markers in the other. "It wasn't working. Nothing was working."
Aaron waves back, forcing himself to smile at his son. "You mean when we were trying to fix things?" He remembers those days well - they'd been overwhelmed with cases, trying to process the shitstorm aftermath of Atlanta as Gideon simultaneously fell apart, leaving them grasping at straws to just make it through a day. He'd been absent, unaware, and inattentive. It explains the mysterious phone calls, her own irritability in those days. It explains almost everything. Only he'd been oblivious to it all, because his attention had been everywhere but where it should have been.
"You gave up on fixing anything the moment Emily walked into your office, Aaron."
"That doesn't make it excusable. I never cheated, Haley." Maybe not physically.
Her face softens, instead of a frown now she just looks sad. "You're right. And I am sorry, Aaron. I regret it … every day. I told him we can't … that there's nothing there."
"Well I guess it doesn't matter now, does it?"
"You deserved to know the truth."
"I'm glad you get to clear your conscience, Haley. I hope it was worth it." He wants to get away as fast as he can, wishing he could just take Jack and go.
"Aaron, can we at least talk about this?"
He shakes his head. "No. There's nothing to talk about."
"Daddy!" Jack is still waving as the engine revs up, his face pressed up against the glass. "Bye, Daddy!" He looks so confused and forlorn, Aaron thinks, unable to suppress the rising guilt he feels knowing his son's life has forever changed so drastically. Even on some rudimentary level, Jack understands things have changed, and the unfairness of it all haunts him every day.
"Bye, Buddy," Aaron says, his voice thick, as he waves to his son. "See you real soon."
The last thing he sees is Jack's face fading into the distance as the car disappears, leaving him alone in the driveway.
…
When Aaron calls her, saying something came up with Jack and that he'll see her tomorrow morning at the BAU, Emily affably agrees without hesitation. She knows his son comes first; it's never been explicitly stated but it doesn't have to be. He's less than convincing at giving the impression nothing is wrong, and even though he knows she doesn't believe him, she doesn't push it.
Which is why she isn't completely shocked when she opens the door to find Aaron with a pint of ice cream in one hand, his car keys in the other. He looks dejected, and something about seeing him still in his suit, with dark circles under his eyes, his tie loosened, at 10 PM makes her heart ache just a little. Does he ever give himself a break? "I thought you might show up." Emily glances down at her own attire - an oversized shirt that hits midthigh and nothing else, and then back at him. Something is wrong. She'd known earlier when he called, but pushing him wouldn't have gotten them anywhere then or now, so she just waits patiently for him to speak.
"Do you always answer the door without pants on?" He's less than subtly staring at her bare legs.
"No one ever knocks on my door this late." She doesn't make a move to cover herself, just drapes one long leg over the other. "Besides, it's just you."
His face cracks into a self-deprecating smile. "Just me, huh? Thanks." He stares at her, then the ice cream in his hand. "Are you going to let me in before this melts all over me?"
She laughs, and for the first time he sees it's clear how tired she is, too. It's a reflection of his own exhaustion, he notices, as she starts digging in the drawer for two spoons. "Are you going to tell me what's going on? If something truly came up with Jack….you'd still be there. You wouldn't be here."
He follows her into her apartment, sinking into one of the barstools at the counter. There's very little he can hide from her now. Hell - she's a better profiler than he is - she'll figure it out eventually. "Haley cheated on me."
The silverware slides right out of her hands, clattering onto the floor, yet she makes no move to pick it up. "What?" Surely she heard him incorrectly.
"You heard me."
Emily hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "I … my God. Aaron, I'm so sorry." What a fucking mess this is. "That's why you … so that's what came up."
"Yeah. I needed some time to think about it all." He pauses, scrubs at his face with his hands. "I can't say I blame her, honestly. I was... I wasn't good to her at the end."
"That doesn't give her the right to cheat on you." She takes the ice cream from him and peels off the lid, grateful for something to do with her hands. "I think you know that."
"Maybe not, but she was hurting as much as I was. Just for different reasons." It's the look in his face that tells her what he's about to say next.
"And just what are those reasons, Aaron?" She turns, reaching into the drawer for a fresh set of spoons when he answers quietly.
"I was always in love with you."
The clink of the silverware knocking together as she grabs two and slams the drawer shut is the only sound between them. She takes a deep breath, setting the spoons down, staring at him for a few very long seconds. Her eyes say it all, even if she's not ready to admit it yet out loud. "So are we going to eat this ice cream or not?"
"Aren't you forgetting bowls?" He lifts an eyebrow, cracks a smile.
Emily offers a cautious smile in return. "In situations like this, I find it's best to skip the bowl entirely."
…
"This stuff is good," he says a half hour later, passing the now melting carton of ice cream back to her, using his thumb to swipe a glob of chocolate and marshmallow off his suit pants. "Unfortunately for me, you've eaten almost all of it."
Emily is laying in the bathtub, her hair pulled up on her head, soapy bubbles practically up to her chin. "It's not my fault you got a brain freeze." She carves out a large bite of the ice cream with her spoon, then another, as gracefully as she can while surrounded by a mountain of bubbles. "Besides, I haven't had dinner, either."
"I'll make you something when you're finished." He's leaning against the wall next to her, legs crossed at the ankles, outstretched on the tile floor with a spoon in hand. "I guess Haley did have the last laugh, in the end."
"I doubt that, Aaron." She extends a wet hand, touching his shoulder, as drops of water splatter on his pants. "We all do things we … we don't think we're capable of, without thinking of how it might hurt someone else, or ourselves." She's glad he can't see the almost wistful expression that crosses her face at the memories that threaten to spill from their neat boxes in her mind. A time she'd rather forget but never fully will. "We all have our secrets, and we all make mistakes. This just happened to be Haley's."
When did she become so … wise?
He frowns. "Our marriage was over a long time ago. Before the divorce papers were even written. But I never thought she would have done this."
Emily wrings out the puffy sponge, lathering some soap on her chest. "I think you both coped the best way you could, in an impossible situation. It doesn't make it right, but we're only human."
"I hurt you both," he admits, turning to face Emily with resignation on his face. "I hurt you because of her, and I hurt her because of you." The circle, or triangle, or whatever the fuck this is, is complete. "I'm the common denominator."
Emily sighs but says nothing, giving his shoulder another squeeze.
He's still stuck in his own head a half an hour later, sitting on the edge of her bed as she's drying off. "I'll sleep on the couch if you want," he says out of the blue.
"Why would you do that?" She turns around, narrowing her eyes at him.
He shrugs. "It seems like the right thing to do … given all of this."
"I think we're past that, Aaron. Don't be ridiculous." She rolls her eyes, not unkindly, with something that sounds like a chuckle. As if to prove a point, she drops the towel onto the floor and makes no move to cover herself, unlike the first time he stayed over at her place.
When she catches him staring, unabashedly, she grins. "I rest my case."
They don't actually sleep together, instead she lays in his arms, the covers pulled up, talking softly until he falls asleep first. And as she closes her own eyes, she realizes, it's one of the first times in a very long time he's been vulnerable to her.
It's a change, and maybe very well a start.
…
A few days later, Aaron calls them in early. It's one of the few nights they haven't spent together lately. He'd had Jack at the apartment, and that is a conversation they're not even close to having just yet. The briefing room is oddly quiet, some hushed confusion falling over all of them as they stumble in with coffee in hand and bleary eyes. Even JJ seems to be in the dark about what's really going on with this new case. He's intensely focused on the screen, wearing a poker face even she can't begin to decipher.
"Don't get comfortable. There'll be time to debrief on the plane."
Aaron is oddly distracted when he presents the New York case. He hardly looks at any of them as he stares at the screen, intensely focused, mumbling something about bringing Garcia along too. Right away Emily knows there's something he's not telling them. A glance in JJ's direction yields little to nothing, because clearly there's still something up with her, too, based on the distant stare in her eyes, and the fact that she's barely uttered a word all morning.
It's the way he mentions Kate Joyner once they're seated on the plane, so casually, yet so specifically, that Emily can't help but wonder about all the years she missed.
"Kate Joyner heads up the New York Field Office. She's running point on the case and called me directly."
It now makes sense why JJ was so clueless.
"She's starting to butt heads with the lead detectives and wanted a fresh set of eyes."
Morgan seems impressed by her if not a little put off; Aaron seems to know a little too much about her, as Emily listens to their exchange, pretending to be immersed in the folder in her hands.
"I heard she can be a little bit of a pain in the ass."
"I didn't think so. We liaised when she was still at Scotland yard. I think we're lucky to have her."
So this is why he was so distracted. This is personal. There's a history there. You hypocrite, Emily thinks to herself, her mind shifting back to where she had been during all those years. We all have secrets. I can hardly judge anyone for theirs, and clearly he has a few. But even Morgan and Reid seem surprised by his praise of her, their own curiosity piqued.
The blonde woman with the British accent who meets them seconds after they step off the elevator at 26 Fed shockingly resembles Haley, Emily observes immediately, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline. It's actually uncanny how similar they look. It's like the elephant in the room, something they all think but won't say. Kate strides toward them, a cool smile on her face. She's pretty, in a chic, effortless kind of way, even with the dark circles under her eyes, and Emily almost feels better about the ones she's currently sporting.
"Aaron," she says warmly, going right in for a hug. First name basis? Emily thinks with interest.
"Kate."
She carries herself well, professional and brisk, but there's something jumpy about her Emily can't put her finger on. Maybe it's the way she only really looks at Aaron during their initial, awkward introductions, or the way she subtly stares Morgan down with something that looks like resentment in her eyes.
If anyone can ease her anxiety, Emily reasons, it's Aaron. He's his typical calm, collected self, yet warmer than normal, as if they're sharing a secret or something no one else is supposed to know.
"Can I have a word with you in private?" Kate leans in close, all but ignoring the rest of them. Aaron doesn't even hesitate, quickly disappearing with Kate behind a closed door, and Emily can't help but roll her eyes.
"They, um, liased at Scotland Yard," Emily murmurs to JJ as Kate and Aaron disappear behind a closed door, leaving the rest of them with Detective Brustin in the middle of the field office. Her quip gets a chuckle from JJ, which makes Emily feel better, because whatever was bothering her before is clearly still on her mind.
"That was strange." JJ is the first one to call it, and Morgan just eyes the whole thing suspiciously.
...
Somehow, it works that Aaron spends most of his time in Manhattan reliving his Scotland Yard days with Kate Joyner while the rest of them team up with the NYPD and FBI. Emily can't say she blames him; it gives him a sense of renewed purpose, being needed the way Kate is so clearly relying on him. That being said, It gives her the slightest touch of satisfaction that she's paired up with Detective Cooper, with his cocky bravado and boyish good looks. He keeps her on her toes, and it's good fun to be around him despite the heaviness of the case. Cooper is flattering and bold - something she's not entirely used to - but it works, they get along, and he's good at his job. She respects that.
It's a blur of a day, full of back and forth all over the city, ending with a particularly tense exchange between Kate and Morgan. She makes a mental note to ask Aaron about it later.
JJ's news takes them all by surprise, in the middle of the hotel lobby no less, with Will making a very unexpected appearance. It's as if she's still processing things herself when she tells them, with almost a shy smile on her face.
Emily is the first one to speak amongst all of them, wrapping a visibly overwhelmed JJ into a warm hug with a brilliant smile on her face. She hugs Will too, genuinely happy for them both. Aaron has to avert his eyes when she glances in his direction once the initial shock dies down. Whether it was intentional or not, he knows her well enough to know all that's hidden there, what she'd never say aloud.
Tensions are still at an all time high, even with JJ's surprise announcement. Tomorrow will be another tough day, and everyone makes a quick excuse to retreat to their rooms for the evening. No one suspects that he spends the night in the city that never sleeps in her hotel room overlooking Midtown.
When Aaron knocks on her door precisely forty minutes after going their separate ways in the lobby, she's wrapped in a towel, fresh from the shower. Emily barely says a word, dropping the towel and then to her knees and backing him up against a wall, pawing at his belt buckle as the door clicks shut. He's taken by surprise, his knees bowing, his hand fisting her damp dark behind her head. "Emily," he grunts, and all she wants to do is this. It's never something he asks for but something she enjoys doing, and given the culmination of the stress of the day, she's seeking power, control, an escape. He's more than happy to appease her.
After he spills down her throat (at her insistence), he backs her across the room until her legs hit the mattress. She falls onto her back and drags him down with her. Even though it's late, the clock on the nightstand already nearing midnight, Aaron spends the next two hours stretching his creative thinking skills with inventive ways of making her come, over and over again. In fact, she does, four times, much to her own exhausted surprise. The final time they go together, practically wrapped around one another, their mouths sealed together in a heated kiss.
6:30 AM comes quick, with the sun starting to lift in the sky in the distance. They're both tired, too tired for anything besides a few peaceful, quiet moments, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. Their dark heads are tucked together between the stark white hotel pillows, sharing gentle touches and kisses. It's a stark contrast to what they'll become once they leave this room, formidable agents wielding guns and taking down a terrorist cell - but for a short time, it's a much needed semblance of normalcy, a respite from the world that looms just outside the window.
"What's going on with Morgan?" Emily asks cautiously, stroking his bare chest with her fingertips. "He seems a little … on edge."
Aaron grimaces, closing his eyes for a moment. "It's complicated."
Of course it is. "Does Kate have anything to do with it?"
"You could say that." He fluffs one of the pillows behind his head, tugging the blanket up over them both when the hotel room air conditioner kicks on. "FBI Brass has told her if she doesn't take this case home, she's going to be reassigned. Morgan is at the top of the list to replace her."
Emily whistles softly, feeling a brief touch of sympathy for Kate. Suddenly her aloofness and cool exterior make perfect sense, as does the way she's clung to Aaron the last few days. Right now, she's the one whose neck is on the line. Emily knows the feeling all too well. It's a shame, because from her observations, the woman is damn good at her job. "Does he know that?"
"He does now."
"I'm sure he had a few opinions about it."
"Of course he did. Kate's not taking it well, either." With a hand on her hip he pulls her closer, tangling their legs together.
"That explains a lot." Emily rests her head on his chest, taking a brief glance at the clock. He'll have to leave soon; she'll have to go downstairs and pretend like none of this ever happened. "Have you talked to her about it?
"Yeah. It's been tense. I've tried to reassure her but … there's not much I can say. Especially with everything going on. There's a lot at play."
"You're doing a good thing, you know." She snuggles against him, snaking an arm around his waist, scratching her fingers up and down his back.
A few more blissful moments of silence pass, lost in their own respective thoughts, until there's no denying the brilliant sun that's starting to rise in the sky, a sign it's time.
"I have to get back and shower." Aaron finally says reluctantly after a few more minutes, throwing back the covers. He leans over to kiss Emily before he digs through the mess on the ground for at least some of the clothes he'd shown up in. "It's already close to seven."
"I thought we weren't meeting until 8:30." She yawns and stretches, desperately in need of a coffee, and some food too, judging by how loudly her stomach is starting to grumble. Maybe JJ will be hungry. But then she remembers Will is still here, and they of all people deserve some privacy. That leaves Morgan and Reid.
"I'm meeting Kate an hour before that. She wants to go over some of the security footage before we brief this morning."
Emily nods, lifting an eyebrow. "She is pretty hell bent on joining us for the profile."
"Cut her some slack," he says gently, coming to sit on her edge of the bed. He puts his shoes on and shrugs into his suit jacket, even though by now it's wrinkled and could probably use a trip to the laundromat. "She's under a lot of pressure. I think we'd all feel the same if we were in her shoes." He leans over to kiss her, slipping an arm underneath her to pull her close.
"Maybe remind Morgan of that too." Emily loops an arm around his neck as her lips press against his. "You're coming back tonight?"
"You know the answer to that."
...
Being in New York City reminds her of every reason why she rarely ever goes in the first place. It's stuffy, cramped, and while the emotions are high, the stakes are much higher. The agents are short and brusque, clearly unimpressed by the BAU presence, and if it weren't for Detective Cooper and his wisecracks, she'd feel even more like an outsider in the FBI Headquarters. Aaron stays close to Kate again that morning, but Emily catches the mark on his neck she'd left behind, and she can't help but grin to herself in the midst of giving the profile, standing in front of the entire disgruntled NYPD.
But later that night, he's true to his word. On their second one in this very fancy hotel, she leaves a new mark, on the other side of his neck, and a few on his chest for good measure. He returns the favor, except the ones he leaves are hidden underneath the button down shirt she'd packed for this very issue. And shortly after that, he takes her up against the wall of the shower, and then once in the bed.
...
Cooper is in rare form the next morning, their third day in the city. Or maybe that's just his usual, Emily thinks as they move through the subway platform. Emily profiles him easily, maybe just a little too easily, and he's clearly impressed. She's lucky he's not a profiler, because he'd most likely have already caught on to the fact that she's limping just a little, thanks to Aaron's persistence over the last two nights. Even so, she can't help but feel fond of him.
Which is why, only a short time later, as the medics load Cooper into the ambulance with a gunshot wound to the chest, Emily feels like she might vomit right there onto the street. She's more than shaken up - of course she is - having watched him nearly bleed out right in front of her. She barely knows him so it feels like overkill, but by the time Aaron and Kate show up, barely an inch of space between them, Emily can't hide the shock on her face as they try to piece together just what the fuck is happening.
This is not good. They've been wrong about this for days, and it's only starting to make sense. It might be too late. For Cooper. For Kate. For all of them.
"Emily, talk to me," Aaron says when they have a brief moment alone when everyone else is distracted. He's been eyeing her like a hawk for the last twenty minutes. Technically, she reminds herself patiently, it's part of his job to ensure she can resume her duties. Of course it's so much more than that, but they can't show it. And she just watched her partner get shot.
But there's no time for that now.
"Emily."
She shivers, even though it's balmy outside and she's still wearing her suit jacket. "Don't Emily me, Aaron. I'm fine. Go to Kate. She's looking for you." Emily nods her head in Kate's direction - even from her distance away from them, it's clear she's waiting for Aaron, her arms folded over her chest, a touch of despondency in her eyes. She shakes her head. "I'll see you later tonight. Back at the hotel."
"I'll call you when - "
"Aaron. Go. I'm fine." She waves him away but when he turns to go, she lets her eyes linger on him and Kate as they hurry away together, disappearing from her sight.
Detective Brustin's face is grim when she goes to get news on Cooper. His blunt exterior is visibly shaken; Emily can't help but feel for him. For as snarky as he's been, he looks completely crestfallen. "He's still in surgery. It doesn't look good."
"We think we know why this is happening," she says, slowly beginning to explain their theories.
It all goes to hell shortly after that, when an SUV explodes on an open street.
…
She has to compartmentalize this for the time being; there's no other choice.
Their last night in New York is one of the longest of her life. The aftermath of the explosion, the moments of terror not knowing if he was alive or where he even was, the final understanding of motive and intent. They watch the security camera footage of the explosion, and each time he gets blown backwards, Emily cringes, but forces herself not to look away.
At the hospital there's a steely anger in his eyes. He fastens his vest around his sore body, moving slowly enough to show he's stiff and in pain. Emily only half listened as Morgan ran through the laundry list of Aaron's injuries - acute ear trauma, shrapnel to his leg, and a slew of nasty cuts and scrapes all over his face. She can barely look at him for more than a few seconds at a time, because the thought of him sustaining the blow Kate did, or worse, is more than she can bear at this point.
What she's more than aware of is the fact there's no talking him out of going back into the field. Everyone else is thinking the same thing, even if they don't say it - that he should really sit this one out. They piece it all together bit by terrifying bit, and the remorse on his face is evident when he makes the connection about driving the ambulance into St. Barclay's. There's a bomb somewhere in the hospital, and the clock is ticking. He's seeing this through to the end.
But when it's all over, Aaron disappears somewhere without saying a word while she waits for backup with Rossi and Reid. Emily doesn't have to ask to know exactly where he's going.
…
She finds him in the hotel bar that night, after the initial chaos has died down. There will be plenty of pieces to pick up tomorrow, but for now, they've done enough. Aaron's eyes are on the endless bottles lining the shelves, like tiny diamonds dancing in the dimming lights.
There's a drink in his hands but she's relieved to see it's barely been touched. Which is why she pulls out the stool next to him, and reaches for it without saying a word. She takes a sip and immediately makes a face - whatever is in the glass could singe the hair right out of her nose.
"How'd you find me?" He doesn't look at her. In fact, he doesn't even look away from the wall.
"You think you're that transparent?" She lifts an eyebrow and he turns his head, giving her an up-close view of each cut on his face. "Not many other places I'd rather be, if I were you."
"I'm lousy company tonight." He takes a small sip, clutching the glass just a little too tightly.
"Never." Emily swipes it out of his grasp, pushing it off to the side. "Besides, I couldn't sleep either." She hopes he doesn't see through that. In reality, she's exhausted, but the thought of him sitting alone makes her chest hurt just a little too much."
"Really. You don't have to stay."
"Aaron, are you -"
"I'm fine, Emily." He brushes her off, not because he's angry with her or because he got dangerously close to facing his own mortality. But because Kate's dead body in the operating room is another reminder of the toll of this job, how it eats you up and spits you out over time. A reminder of everything he's lost and could still lose. She's somewhere on that list.
"That's what I would say, too." It doesn't take a genius to figure out Kate's death is impacting him more than even he considered. "It's okay to not be okay for one night, Aaron." Emily passes the drink back in his direction but he just shakes his head.
"How's Agent Cooper?"
"I heard from Detective Brustin not too long ago. He's out of surgery. Not out of the woods yet but if he makes it through the night, it's a good sign." She can't hide the relief in her voice.
"Good."
She loses track of how long they sit in the bar, side by side without many words exchanged between them. Aaron is the one who stands to go first, subtly offering her his hand.
And of course, she takes it.
...
Emily stays close to him in Ohio when they search for the Angel Maker, because she's worried. They all are, really, so her concerns don't seem too far fetched. It's obvious he shouldn't even be on the plane, let alone on the damn case. He toughs it out the first day, even when it's clear he's in pain and that his ears are still an issue.
But it's Aaron, and there's no telling him otherwise. He'd all but refused when she gingerly suggested he see a doctor for the lingering ear pain, the ringing that's plagued him since New York. And there isn't much she can push back on, because if it were her, she'd say the exact same thing.
It all comes to a head at the graveyard in Lower Canaan, when they exhume the body of the man who is supposed to be long dead. The harsh, piercing wail of the crane is clearly excruciating for him, judging by how he's pressing his hands to his ears, oblivious to the scene around him. And blurring the lines of objectivity once again, she's at his side, soothing him, comforting, practically begging to help him.
"I'm okay," he says over and over, calmly but surely, his eyes meeting hers. And even if he's anything but that, of course he's not going to admit it. At least not yet.
"You're doing something about this when we get home," she orders when the pain seems to have passed, crossing her arms over her chest. "And if you think I'm not serious, try me." She stalks off to rejoin the rest of the group, knowing she's won.
Dave just pretends he doesn't see anything, like he's oblivious to the scene right behind him. But when they aren't looking, he just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes.
Amateurs.
...
"I thought there were no secrets between you." Emily presses the red headed woman gently a few days later, when they're still in Ohio.
"You've never been in love, have you?" The woman asks, with hurt in her eyes, betrayed by a dead man, and she doesn't have to question if she is or isn't.
…
He has a bad feeling about Colorado before she and Reid are even on the plane. He'd gone as far as to tell her that the night before she left. She'd been sitting on the counter, her legs crossed at the knees wearing one of his old t-shirts and nothing else, her hair a mess, the shirt wrinkled, as they made a late night dinner of grilled cheese.
Of course, Aaron is the one doing the cooking.
It hadn't been their intention to eat this late - it's past ten, after all - but she'd shown up at his door shortly after eight, and the last two hours have been spent in bed. The only reason they'd gotten up in the first place was due to her audibly rumbling stomach.
"I think you're worrying a little too much," Emily huffs with a roll of her eyes. "It's a quick trip, and someone needs to do it. Besides, I'll have Reid with me."
"That doesn't exactly make me feel better, you know." Aaron expertly flips the sandwich in the pan before reaching for what he needs to make his own. "Just the two of you and a child life specialist in the middle of Colorado? I'd feel better if there was some type of backup." He isn't privy to all the details, but it all sounds so convoluted it makes his head hurt. The fact that Emily is the one going makes it even worse.
"That would only make them suspicious. You heard the woman on the phone, Aaron. They need help. This man is … someone has to stop him." She presses her hands to her lips, thinking about the pleading call they'd had with Colorado DCS only the day before. "Plus, you already signed off on it."
"I know I did. He gives her a hardened look, setting his jaw. "Please promise -"
"I'll be careful, Aaron." She gives him a reassuring, full smile right back, and his eyes linger on her for a few moments before turning his attention back to the stove.
"Here, taste this." He puts one of the grilled cheeses onto a plate, passing it in her direction. "I can make you another one if you're still hungry."
She takes a bite, nodding her head in approval before demolishing half of it. "That's fantastic." Sliding off the counter gracefully, Emily wraps her arms around him from behind, pressing her forehead into his back. "That's probably why I like you so much. You make some delicious grilled cheese."
Spinning around, he envelopes her in a hug, burying his nose in her hair. "Is that the only reason?" One thing he may never tire of is the feeling of her body against his.
"You have some … how can I say this …hidden talents," she says coyly, pushing her hips into his suggestively as she seeks out his mouth with her lips.
Without warning he dips down and hoists her up, securing her legs around his waist. It takes her by surprise and she yelps right against his ear, her hands clawing at his neck as he holds her up with an impressive amount of strength. Sometimes she forgets just how strong he is. "Aren't you forgetting dinner?" But she's already starting to heat up, because somehow he's gotten his hands under her thighs, and he's whispering something downright filthy into her ear.
"Dinner's waited long enough. It can wait a few more minutes." With a devilish wink he carries her right back to his bedroom.
They never do in fact make it back to the kitchen.
…
Aaron all but slams the phone down when he hears Morgan shout his name from the bullpen, ricocheting right through his closed office door. There's no denying the unmistakable fear in his voice, the urgency. Something is wrong - very wrong. Strauss can wait. Dave is out of his office too, looking equally concerned.
"The TV. Prentiss and Reid."
He can hardly listen to the reporter outside the ranch. Violent deadly standoff. Forced retreat. 30 minute gun battle. 3 members of child services trapped inside. They're in the compound.
His hands tighten around the railing, staring down at his team. "All right. That means we're the lead with hostage rescue and support. Let's go."
Less than an hour later, they're on the way to Colorado. They know things are likely to get worse, but just how much worse, none of them would ever imagine.
