A/N: Hi everyone! This chapter takes place after 4x02. At the end of the episode, if you remember, Hotch gets given a plate of brownie which he gives to Emily. So this prompt is based on that. Hope you enjoy it! It's a little fluffy in some spots.

BTW, literally just finished editing the chapter for the minimal loss episode. That should be up in a few days.

Late-June 2008

"Brownie?" Prentiss asked with her mouth stuffed, popping her head into JJ's office.

"Oh, my goodness, Emily, you're gonna get me addicted to that stuff."

"So, I'm taking that as a yes?"

"NO." JJ said with a smirk as she held her hands up, "I seriously don't need it. Do you know how hard it is to eat healthy during pregnancy? My body won't forgive me, so get that plate out of here."

Emily ignored the woman's request and dumped the plate in front of her anyway, causing JJ to send a devilish glare in her direction. She grabbed another slice before sitting down and resting her feet upon the corner of the desk. "JJ, all I've seen you eat for the last few weeks is basically salad…" She swallowed her mouthful, "another little piece of brownie isn't going to kill you."

Unable to resist the temptation, JJ snagged her fifth slice for the day. "Hmmm. I'm blaming all the extra weight I gain on you, Will and Penelope."

The brunette scoffed, "uh-huh, because I've totally been feeding you junk food for the month that I've known you've been pregnant. You have to admit though, these are good."

"I'd rate them a solid nine out of ten."

"Nine?"

"Emily, there's no such thing as a perfect ten."

"I beg to differ. Either something's delicious, or it's plain awful. I've had my fair share of my mother's terrible baking, and let me tell you… Not even Gordon Ramsey could craft something better than this."

As JJ finished up the remainder of her slice, she pushed the half-full plate back towards Emily, "thanks for that, now please take them away to the others before I get even more distracted."

"Everyone told me to give them to you!"

"Save some for Hotch then…" JJ muttered casually.

Emily rolled her eyes as she dumped the plate on the other side of the room before returning to the same position. "Do you think he's okay?"

"Who? Hotch?"

The man had tugged and squeezed at his right ear so hard on the last case that Emily could have sworn he was on the brink of tears. "He looked as though he was in so much pain."

JJ reached for another file, "well, it didn't help that he stood right next to a grinding crane, and not to mention someone fired a gun two feet away. I'd be surprised if he wasn't."

Emily flashed back a few days prior, remembering Hotch slouching away from the excavators in tremendous pain as the crane whined and creaked. His eyes had squinted so tightly, and up until then, Emily had never heard the man whimper. That night, she wanted desperately to wrap her arms around him and hold him as he suffered… But she couldn't do that…

She wished for anything to help ease Hotch's pain. It physically hurt watching him grimace and look so beat.

And then there was the flight… She wondered how he'd cope in the coming weeks with the flying still causing him grief. Yes, Hotch could continue driving to cases, but there was no way he could get to the victims that needed him quickly. Heck, if they had a case in California, it would take at least two days to drive all the way there. Quite frankly, it was not a sustainable option.

JJ glanced up, noticing the brunette in deep thought. She had that hint of hopelessness in her expression.

"Emily. Hotch will be fine."

"I know, I just… I've never seen him like that before. You wish that you could do something to help, but with him… It's practically impossible."

"Eh. I've been there before. I'd say give him a few more weeks, and then he'll be back to himself."

Sighing, she couldn't help but shake her head at how everybody on the team was underestimating the severity of his condition. But then again, her feelings for Hotch had really ramped up since nearly losing him to a bomb, and she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him 24/7. Maybe she was too invested in his recovery and needed to back off a little bit.

"So, Will and I have finally agreed on a crib we like, but he wants it in a forest green colour."

Emily screwed her nose up, "any significant reason why?"

JJ threw herself back into her seat, "No. He just likes green. And… Emily, I haven't set up a nursery yet. I don't even know if I have room in my apartment." She sighed, "what do you think I should do?"

Cocking her head to the side, Emily sucked in air through her teeth, "I mean… Green's not a terrible colour."

"So, you're taking my boyfriend's side?" JJ asked, laughing slightly.

"If it was a bright neon limey colour, then yeah, that would be out of the question. But forest green, I think could actually work quite nicely against a plain white wall. Besides… Sometimes the nurseries you see on those reality shows stereotype the gender. Blue everything for boys. Pink for girls. Don't tell me I'm wrong."

The blonde shrugged, "I don't know anymore… I thought it would be easy making these sorts of decisions, but I was wrong."

"Hm. I wouldn't stress about it too much; you've still got what? Another five months until it's due?"

"At least."

"Plenty of time." Emily stood up, grabbing the plate of brownies, "I'm gonna drop these off to Hotch's office, and then I'm heading home. Call me if you need anything."

A few hours had passed since Aaron had left Ohio, and the scenery in the countryside, as Rossi had noted, was something to behold. Gorgeous tall mountains, clean freshwater rivers, fields full of wild animals. Up until now, Aaron hadn't appreciated the beauty of it all; you just didn't get these up close and personal views from the jet.

As he drove through a small village in West Virginia, something inside told him to stop. Figuring that he needed to have dinner anyway, he found what looked to be a quaint Irish Pub just off the main road.

For a Wednesday night, the place looked to be kicking.

"Mate! What's got a busy man like urself in the wars? Ya look like you need a beer." An old bartender asked with a southern drawl. He had beady blue eyes with a hooked nose, and his mostly bald head had a ring of brunette hair below his ears that was in the process of dying to a light silver.

Hotch hadn't realised he was still dressed in his suit and tie, and the battle wounds on his face were still in the slow process of healing. "Uh… A beer would be nice, thanks."

"Right at ya… So, what brings you here?" The man asked as Hotch took a seat.

This town obviously didn't get many visitors. "Nothing in particular; On my way back to DC."

"Well. Ya not gonna get there tonight. Massive storm due to hit not far from here in bout couple hours' time. We've got room upstairs for ya to stay the night."

As he glanced out a dusty window, true to the bartender's word, thick and thundery clouds were starting to roll over the village. It was like they apparated out of nowhere.

"I'd appreciate that."

Aaron heard commotion at the other end of the bench, "Scuse me for a moment."

Two brawny men who looked to be in their late forties were swearing at each other profusely, with their deep voices getting angrier by the second. Obviously heavily intoxicated, Aaron knew within seconds of hearing the debacle that their little argument would soon turn physical.

As one of the men lifted a fist, Aaron wasted no time jumping up from his stool and grabbed the offender by the waist before dragging him away. It had been at least twenty years since the last time Aaron had to break up a physical fight, and this guy… He had some muscle. While another party dragged the other offender to a different part of the bar, the guy in Aaron's grasp wormed his way out, yelling, "get the hell off me, man!"

Hotch stared him down with a cold devilish glare, and the offender wasted no time in rushing out the bar. It wasn't until the drunkard was well out of sight that Aaron took a seat back at the stool.

The bartender passed him his beer moments later with an amazed expression, "you're brave, going in like that."

"Does that happen often?"

He smirked, "bout every day. The town folk round here ain't got anything better to do but get wasted. Look at the place; it's like this every single night."

As if the bar wasn't packed enough with heavy smokers and alcoholics, another group of 10 men strolled through the door before squeezing around Aaron for a drink. Communities could look so minimal from the outside, but when everybody congregated together, the reality of how many people lived there hit you.

"Not offen we get outsiders coming in. You said you going back to DC, what; you on a road trip or something?"

Hotch scoffed as he sipped the beer, "It's a long story."

"Well, what ya waiting for? I ain't going nowhere. Phillip, by the way," he said, holding his hand out for Hotch to shake.

"Aaron… I was uh… Involved in an explosion. I can't fly for a while because of my ear."

"Huh. And here's me thinking you were involved in some sorta brawl. How'd ya nearly blow ya'self up?"

Chugging back more beer, Hotch hesitated for a moment as he thought about Kate.

"Car bombing."

Phillip grit his teeth together as he sent a terrifying gaze in Aaron's direction. "Ah, mate… Ya don't hear about that happening every day. Did the coppers catch the perps sponsible?"

"We did, yeah," Aaron said, gulping.

At that moment, everything seemed to click into place for Phillip. "I should have recognised one of yous sooner; you're FBI, aren't ya?"

Smart man.

"What gave it away?" He asked with a hint of humour.

Phillip grabbed a cloth and started wiping down the bench, "believe it or not, one of your people came here. Long time ago now, bout a decade ago, I'd say. I'll never forget the charm he had on the ladies. Nice lad, though; said his name was David. Can't member his last name off the top of my head."

Hotch cocked his head to the side. He couldn't have been talking about Rossi. Surely not… Then again, Aaron wouldn't have been surprised. Travelling was one of Dave's favourite passions.

"David Rossi?" Hotch asked, going out on a limb.

"Yea, that's the guy. Ya know him?"

"We work together."

The Southerner scoffed to himself, "small world, isn't it? I've seen his books on criminal profiling and all that stuff. I didn't realise he was back in the workforce; said he was retiring when I saw him."

"The work bug bit him again."

"Figures-"

"PHIL!" A woman yelled three feet away from Hotch. Her cockney like accent reminded Hotch of his middle school female principle that used to reprimand him every day for his seemingly 'untidy' uniform.

"Yea, Jacinta."

"Got some fellows at table 3 requesting four glasses of pale ale."

"Alright, sweetcakes, I'm on it," Phillip said as the redheaded woman waded her way back through the pub. "That's my wife right there. Been married seven years but known each other for nearly forty."

"That's impressive."

"I know what ya gonna ask, why'd I marry her so late in life? The truth is that she's a pain in my ass and kept coming up with excuses, the main one being her daddy. But he dead now, so she ain't got nobody to be scared of." Phillip paused for a second, eyeing Hotch up and down. "What bout you? Something happened, didn't it? I've seen that look of failure in married men's eyes all too offen."

Hotch suddenly fell sullen, and his mind drifted off, thinking about Haley. Every mistake, every bad memory and all the uncertainty invaded his mind like soldiers sieging a castle. No matter how hard he tried to bury the remnants of his marriage and divorce away, it would always come back to bite him, a harsh reminder of what could have been.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

The old bartender nodded as Hotch took out his wallet. "Don't worry bout your money. It's on the house. We don't offen get outsiders doing what you did before."

Aaron wasn't about to complain, "thanks."

"Say hi to David for me, won't ya?"

"I will."

Two days Later…

"Well, well, well… Looks who's back bright and early."

David Rossi stood in the doorway of Hotch's office, watching the man jotting something down. Nobody would guess that he'd been gone for the last two days.

"Hey," Aaron replied, looking briefly at his partner.

"So, how was it?"

"Well, apart from breaking up a nearly brutal fight and getting pelted by rain as I hiked down a trail… It was okay." Rossi sat opposite, flashing an eyebrow of intrigue. "The fight was driven by intoxication," Hotch clarified.

"Righht. You know… One thing I've learnt when I've travelled is that aspects of this job follow you everywhere. I get people stopping me in the streets asking for my opinion on a homicide 13,000 miles away. WHY?" He asked, holding his palms up to the ceiling.

"Maybe if you didn't write bestselling books on crime, you'd notice a difference." Hotch couldn't help but smirk at the abysmal expression Rossi was shooting his way. "Phillip says hi, by the way."

It took the Italian a moment to register what Hotch was on about, but then the realisation clicked together. "No way. That guy actually still works there? I thought he'd be long gone retired by now."

"No. He's still alive and kicking. And remembered you as clear as day."

"I guess people like him don't have anything better to do in retirement in a small village like that. He's a great guy; I had my best batch of scotch at that bar."

As Hotch smirked, their conversation was interrupted by JJ knocking at the door. "Sorry guys… Duty calls."

"Over the last month, 6 women have been reported missing around towns of northern Utah and Southern Idaho." JJ pulled up all the pictures of 6 brunette women, "Tilly McGraw, aged 23, was the first woman reported to be missing. Her body was found dumped in a nearby forest by local bikers three days ago. The autopsy revealed she'd been stabbed over fifteen times, but that wasn't the official cause of death."

"Suffocation?" Emily said, reading over the file in front of her. "I don't see any signs of strangulation or bruising on the neck, though."

"That's because, after further testing on the bodies, it was revealed they died due to lack of oxygen." JJ clarified.

"So, let me get this straight," Morgan began, "this guy kidnaps his victims, tortures them through stabbing and then suffocates them. Have they figured out how exactly he's suffocating them?"

JJ shrugged, "it's hard to know at this point. By the time the body was found, weather and external factors had severely degraded it."

"If you look closely in the photographs, there are defensive wounds on her forearms," Spencer stated. "But I'd need to look at her body in person to analyse further."

"What about the others?" Hotch questioned.

"So far, there has been no sight of them. Local detectives don't have the resources or manpower to dedicate all their time to look for these women, nor have there been any significant murders in this general area for years… Which is why they've called us in."

"If no more bodies have been found, it either means they are still being kept hostage, or he's dumped their bodies somewhere entirely different," Rossi stated, observing the missing women in the photographs.

"Wheels up in 30," Hotch said, closing his file.

He didn't need to look to know that everyone's eyes were fixated on him. "You sure you want to fly so soon after what happened last time?" Rossi asked.

As Aaron stood up, he gently furrowed his brow. "The flight will be fine. I'll just stay away from the loud noises."

Emily quirked an eyebrow to Morgan and JJ as Hotch walked away.

You couldn't exactly run away from the sound of a gunshot…

On the plane, it had been agreed that Emily would be partnered up with Hotch for the case. JJ and Rossi were interviewing the missing people's families at a local station not far from the Idaho border, while Morgan and Reid were off to the Morgue to get a better look at the victim's body. Meanwhile, she and Hotch followed one of the detectives to the forest where the body was dumped.

And boy, it was grimy after a week or two of continuous rain. Even in the middle of summer, the leaves' canopies shrouded the forest in a sombre darkness, giving the area an eerie vibe. The air smelt damp, a light breeze rustled the trees, and half the trail was covered in thick mud.

Emily wished she was at least wearing different shoes.

"This is quite a hike to where she was dumped. You'd have to be strong to carry a body all this way and not drag her."

"But it's also isolated," Hotch noted, "that meant he could take his time to choose where he placed her."

"And not to mention, he would have done it most likely during the night, when nobody would be around."

"Exactly."

About five minutes later, the detective showed them the site surrounded by yellow tape. "Of all the banks I've seen on this trail, this one has to be the steepest," Emily noted as she carefully held onto a tree to manoeuvre herself down. "It means he could watch her body roll down."

"Torturing her more-even in death."

"The pictures showed her body mangled and twisted. So, no sign of remorse. Even though it's steep, there are no obstructions in the way. No leaves, no rocks. Only that tree over there. The unsub wanted somebody to see what he'd done."

"Detective," Hotch asked, "were there any obvious signs of footprints down here when you arrived?"

The man in question shrugged, "in all honesty… Probably. But we get so many bikers on this trail, and any that were here were most likely destroyed. Not to mention the downpours we've had here too."

"Of course."

Figuring that there was nothing left to profile on the scene, Emily started trudging her way back up the slope, grasping onto the nearby tree for leverage. Hotch walked over, noticing the woman struggling to climb back up with muddied shoes. He held out a hand for the brunette to take as she pulled herself back onto the trail.

Emily did everything in her power to not start blushing at his touch, but she couldn't help but feel how warm and firm his hands were. And not to mention the deep callouses in his palm.

"Thanks," she said, glancing back down the bank. God… She had completely lost track of what she was thinking about.

Thankfully, the detective distracted Emily from her mind wandering into inappropriate fantasies. "So, does this place give you a better idea of who this guy is?"

"Yes," Hotch replied, "Geographical profiling can tell a lot about an offender. The way she was dumped and the place where he decided to do it tells us that he's not remorseful."

"Think about it this way," Prentiss began, "if you accidentally killed someone and didn't want anybody finding out, you would try and hide the body as best as you possibly could. So, behind trees, under rocks, you may even bury it.

"So… Are you saying this guy's killing for the fun of it?"

"He's sadistic, yes," Hotch answered, "but we won't know more until the other members of our team have analysed the evidence at the morgue."

The detective nodded with an uneasy expression before starting to walk back along the muddy trail.

"Wow… JJ wasn't joking when she said this place hasn't seen a murder here for years," Emily said amazed, "did you see his face? He looked like he'd seen a ghost."

"I don't blame him," Hotch whispered back.

The squelching of mud beneath them filled the silence for a few seconds. "So… How's your ear?"

Since taking a few days off and surrounding himself in the calm of nature, Hotch had noticed a significant improvement in the pain. Every now and then, it flared up uncontrollably, but he was coping without crying like a wimp. "Better. I appreciate the brownies, by the way. I'm surprised there were still some left."

Emily snorted, "you learn a lot about people when you offer them food. Apparently, Morgan's on a sugar-free diet, Reid found them too squishy for his liking, Rossi only likes eating them with nuts, and JJ wants to eat better. So basically, it was just Penelope and I that truly appreciated them."

Hotch smirked in her direction, "Morgan's on a diet?"

"Yeah, I did a double-take too. I bet ya $100 he doesn't last a week." As the brunette glanced around the area, she furrowed her brow, "there's one thing we haven't considered yet. Why this forest? I mean… Sure, it's isolated, which would give him privacy, but could this trail potentially mean something to him?"

Prentiss did have a good point. Unfortunately, with only one body found so far, they didn't have much to go on. "It's a possibility. However, it's improbable he'll return back here with an enforced police presence."

"Right…"

At that moment, Hotch's cell phone started buzzing. "Yeah, Dave… Okay, Prentiss and I are on our way back now." Emily sent an inquiring look in his direction as Hotch hung up. "According to Rossi, all the victims were meant to be going on hikes at the time of their disappearance. Tilly McGraw was hiking a few forests over on her own."

Emily squinted her eyes, "okay… So, he's opportunistic, taking advantage of brunette women who are walking alone in the forest."

"How does he get them to co-operate?"

"Well, he's not going to risk harming them in broad daylight with the possibility of other people around. And the screaming… That would definitely catch somebody's attention."

"So, some sort of ruse." Hotch concluded, "A trick where he lures them back to his car before he attacks them." Prentiss suddenly stopped dead in her tracks with the most jumbled expression Hotch had ever seen from her. "What is it?"

"I just don't get it…" She said sighing. "He has to be using some powerful excuse to get these women to deviate from their track. I mean… What on earth would a young woman help a strange man out with on a nature hike?"

Hotch shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and creased his brow, "he's lost something? A wallet? A child? Most people drop everything they are doing in an instant to search for a missing kid."

"No," Emily replied, shaking her head. Then suddenly, a new idea popped into her head, "originally, I was thinking he was pretending to have lost a child. But there's another scenario. Look around us…"

Hotch followed her gaze down the bank, "Deep rivers. You think he pretended to drown and needed help?"

Emily continued walking, "I don't know. If it were me and I was the only person around, I would feel obliged to save him."

"It's quite rare these days to encounter a fully grown adult who can't swim, though."

"True… Okay, what if he's injured himself in some other way? A sprained ankle? It would have to be serious yet something minor so that she doesn't call emergency services."

They had finally reached the carpark where the detective was waiting for them in the car. As Hotch stepped into the passenger seat, he thought hard about Prentiss' theory. It seemed logical and a great way to attract attention. "We have to wait for Reid and Morgan to get back to figure out what this girl endured."

Prentiss nodded, glancing to Hotch in front of her, and a tiny smile couldn't help but surface.

It felt good to see him back to his usual self.

A/N: Please keep leaving those reviews! Love hearing from you all! See you in the next prompt.