A/N: Hi guys! So I completely skipped writing a prompt for 3x18 because Hotch and Prentiss were actually working separate cases in that episode, and I hardly had anything to write about. So this actually takes place AFTER 3x18 and bleeds into 3x19. I did incorporate a little dialogue from this episode to help move things along. But anyway... Hope you enjoy this little chapter!

Mid May 2008

Chiselled hands curled around the small of her waist while her back arched, allowing her abdomen to glue to his torso like a baby chimp hugging its mother for dear life. Hot, but smooth lips sucked gently on her sticky pale skin, while hushed breath hit her neck in short heatwaves. She giggled at the slight brush of a tongue, but moments later let out a satisfied whimper as his sharp teeth injected into her flesh, indenting a dark mark near her increasing pulse.

Then he returned to her swollen lips, devouring them, and taking her in as much as possible whilst he threaded his large, manly hands through her tangled bed-hair.

Darkness greeted her.

A hand traced over the spot on her lower neck, hoping to feel a bruise or indentation, but all that rolled onto her fingers was sweat. That's when Emily noted the faint horns and sirens wailing on the streets below; any decibel higher and she'd chuck her alarm clock off the balcony to travel with them. Usually, the air conditioning unit's gentle hum blocked all the noise out and left her apartment in a calm and peaceful paradise for sleep.

So, why was it that she was waking up at an ungodly hour of the night covered in a hundred beads of sweat? Besides having the beginning of a steamy bedroom session with some mystery man, of course.

Rolling over to her side, Emily reached for the usually offending object that had suffered lots of battle damage. For once, its stupid trigger-happy night light didn't blind her.

Power cut.

Emily didn't know how long she'd been sweating her ass off in bed, but one thing for sure was, she couldn't take this oven convection heat. While she fumbled around in the dark for a flashlight- the woman always kept one near in case of this very situation- in an instant, the AC unit gushed out much needed cold air.

"Typical…"

After changing into some drier clothes, Emily snuggled back into bed and focused her mind back on the very pleasurable dream that unfortunately ended much too soon. It always fascinated the woman how her brain could conjure up a situation where flying on snakes and shooting cereal boxes with limbs seemed normal. How that transitioned to making out with a man was beyond her knowledge, but she definitely knew it was not Devon…

This man touched her in a way she could never describe. Whether it was the way his hands fondled her breasts in conjunction with his lips or how she'd been giggling while he pretended to lick her like she was candy, it triggered something desirable within Emily.

As she lay there, eyes closed, remembering each moment in vivid detail, her smile instantly faded as her brain finally registered the mystery man responsible.

It felt like someone was trying to screw a bolt into her abdomen while simultaneously pulling out her intestines. The feelings of love, pleasure and happiness interlaced with ones of shame, fear, and uncertainty. Sleep still had its spell cast upon her, and every thought that popped into her mind was added to the ever-growing pile of mush.

The memory her brain had made up of his hands wrapped up tightly around her waist remained prominently in the forefront of her mind. And no matter how hard the woman tried; she just couldn't shake it away. She grabbed a pillow, stuffing it around her ears, wondering if it would help squeeze out the image.

…Nope.

Huffing in frustration, the bedazzled brunette chucked the pillow at the dresser, causing a cacophony of bottles and jewellery to go tumbling down. Emily could never look at Hotch the same way again. Not without fantasizing his hands caressing her entire body or his lips pressed up to her pulse. How dare her brain even think to come up with a fantasy as horrid, yet pleasurable as that? And why so soon after breaking up with her ex?

As she tossed and turned in bed for hours, trying to get back to sleep, new inappropriate fantasies of her boss invaded her mind every minute.

Emily just wished the genie from Aladdin would show up and hand her a forgetting potion.

She got up 5 minutes before her alarm was due to ring and sauntered into the kitchen. And after fixing herself a mug of desperately needed caffeine, she facepalmed into the counter and let out a slow sigh.

Never in a million years did Emily think she'd have to consider her boss' attractiveness. Yes, it would be stupid to deny that he had an element of charm and mystique- Especially in his suit… It didn't take a profiler to notice how most women- and maybe an occasional man- stopped and stared at him whenever they travelled in public. How could you not notice? Add to that his neatly groomed hair and tall stature, and he was practically anybody's 'knight in shining armour'.

Her mind flashed back to her late teenage years. Emily would admit that she did have a small crush on the man, and had she not gone to college and had more time, who knows? They could have been in a relationship all those years ago… But knowing Hotch and how dedicated and professional he was about his job, there was no way in hell he would let a relationship get in the way of his career.

Ambassador Prentiss would've fired him on the spot.

Feelings for the man had reignited upon meeting again nearly a decade later, but if Emily wanted to have the job she dreamt of, those obnoxious thoughts and feelings needed to be pushed right to the back of her mind. And that's what she'd done. Not once during her time in the unit had she fantasized about him or 'crossed the line' or 'flirted'. Their relationship had remained purely professional.

And Emily preferred for it to stay that way.

But at the same time, her dream had sparked a feeling that she was struggling to get rid of. It was like a tiny flame burnt inside her entire body, and there was no possible way to extinguish it.

Even if she really yearned for a relationship, Hotch would never date her in a million years. Emily was pretty sure that it was a rule not to fraternize with co-workers. And Besides, he was her superior, and she was his subordinate, and if Strauss ever caught them in inappropriate activities, she could kiss goodbye to profiling. She was not his type either… Judging from Haley's appearance, he seemed to have a thing for blondes.

At this stage, JJ had a better shot at hooking up with the guy than Emily did.

The woman cringed as she imagined the reactions from the others. Reid would undoubtedly gag on his own food; Morgan would stare at the two in utter disbelief. Rossi would awkwardly ask questions and convince both of them that such a relationship was a mistake. JJ… She'd be completely speechless and Penelope, as much as the woman loved love stories and the like, wouldn't know how to approach them.

How would a romantic relationship on the job work anyway?

Too much time together…

Not enough alone time…

Conflict of interest…

Personal bias and clouded judgement…

The list could go on.

It's not like she hated Hotch, far from it… They worked well together and often bounced ideas off each other like a frog leaping from Lilypad to Lilypad. Of course, at times it's frustrated Emily with some of the decisions he's made on the job, especially when it's one she doesn't fully agree with. But nevertheless, each decision he's made has had good intentions, and that's all that mattered.

Emily just wished her mind would snap off of the subject of Hotch for a few minutes.

She didn't need to be falling for her boss…

But the process was already in full swing.

As if her morning hadn't already been hectic enough, a horrendous accident on the freeway had Emily stuck in gridlocked traffic for over an hour.

By the time she arrived at Quantico, she couldn't have been grumpier. Her cup of coffee desperately needed a refill and sitting idly in that traffic with nothing to do but think endlessly had her head aching. To make matters worse for herself, the one person Emily didn't want to see happened to be closing the trunk of his car as she pulled into a park. She'd already made her mind up parking in that perfect spot, and it would seem awkward if she just drove past.

Merely the sight of Hotch had Emily's stomach twisting into knots.

He waited with his briefcase and go-bag in hand as Prentiss parked the car and got out. Her bangs slightly covered her eyes as she shone the briefest of smiles in his direction.

"Morning, Prentiss."

"Hey."

After awkwardly grabbing her belongings while he watched, they made their way to the elevators. "I read over your report for the North Dakota case last night. There are a few errors you need to correct."

The brunette cast her mind all the way back to that case over a week ago. How could there be an error? She always tripled checked her spelling and ran it through a grammar check before printing. "What sort of errors? Did I forget to capitalize the unsub's last name?"

"No. It's not anything grammatical. You mentioned visiting the school where the unsub was stalking the boys, but you didn't mention how you figured out he was accessing their school profiles. And then, later on, you left out the meeting with his mother. We gained crucial evidence from her, and it would seem wasteful to leave it out of the report."

She wanted to roll her eyes. Field reports were already the bane of her existence, and it didn't help when Hotch went all pedantic over leaving out minor details.

"Alright. I'll fix it."

Hotch's cell phone started ringing while they stepped inside the elevator. It was a number he didn't readily recognize.

"Hotchner."

While the doors closed, a whiff of what smelt like combined grapefruit, wood, and another substance she couldn't place her finger on had Emily in a trance. Every day she had accustomed to his intense cologne, but with her hormones on high alert after that dream, a hot flush blushed her cheeks. She hoped his gaze stayed fixated on the railing.

"Yes… Of course, how are you? ... Not currently."

She hadn't realized it until now, but his deep, quiet, and rustic voice brought Emily a sense of calmness, a sort of relaxation where she could get lost in his words.

Immediately, she ground her teeth together and pushed the intrusive thought as far away as possible.

Why was her brain doing this to her?

Emily practically sprinted out of the elevator when the opportunity came and wasted no time in getting a refill of coffee and fixing up the 'errors' in her field report. She couldn't stand another moment near the man without her brain coming up with some other inappropriate thought.

It bordered on torturous.

"How was the traffic?" Spencer asked as she sat down and fumbled through her computer for the old report.

"Dreadful…" She muttered, "You're early, even beat Morgan to it."

"Yeah, that's because I took the I22 rather than I36."

"Let me guess. You were listening to the radio this morning as the crash happened."

"I actually leave the radio on all night. It helps me to sleep."

Emily glanced at him with an eyebrow quirked before taking a big gulp of her freshly brewed coffee. She didn't have the energy to question his sleeping habits further.

While she started rereading her notes, Penelope walked in, holding a piece of paper up to her chest. Her body language reminded Emily of a T-Rex and its tiny little hands that just dangled in front of it.

"Hey, Spence… I need your opinion on this picture." The tech analyst asked as she sat on the edge of the genius' desk.

Oh no… Emily thought, rolling her eyes. Penelope had mentioned the other day that she was going through the team's old yearbook photos from high school. Why? Emily hadn't a clue. Probably for her own personal amusement she would have guessed.

Reid leant back in the chair and observed the picture carefully, taking a moment to carefully pick his words. "It's remarkable. Something like this makes you question everything you thought you knew."

"Yeah. It's like the monolith in 2001."

"So, there was actually a time when this was socially acceptable?"

"Oh… You're young. The eighties left a lot of people confused." Penelope held it out for both of them to see, "this is, uh, especially sad though."

Of course, the hacker had found a way to track down her old school photo. Emily didn't even know that was possible considering how long ago it was taken.

She was pretty sure she'd burnt the original copy.

"Alright. Very funny, you guys. Very funny. What'd you do to it?" Emily muttered as she twirled around in her chair and snatched it from Penelope.

"Do?"

"You obviously altered it in photoshop or something, that hair…"

"Oh no, pussycat. That's all you. Garfield High, class of 89."

She used to actually look like that?

No wonder she struggled to make friends.

"You really didn't change anything?" Emily asked a little hopelessly. She wished Penelope had at least added extra oomph to the already hideous hairdo.

"I hacked it, as is. You seriously trying to tell me you don't remember rocking that look?"

Emily shook her head slowly from side to side with pursed lips.

"Perhaps your lack of recognition stems from a dissociative fugue suffered in adolescence, say, at a Siouxsie and the Banshees' concert," Spencer suggested, causing both himself and Penelope to chuckle.

"It's so weird, like some other life." Footsteps approached, and she didn't need to look to know that it was Hotch. Immediately, she slammed the picture upside down on her desk. God… There was no way in hell he could see her in that state. "what was that about?"

"Brian Matloff," Hotch replied with a less than pleased expression.

"Who?" Penelope asked.

"Uh… Aka the blue ridge strangler." Spencer said, leaning back in his chair.

"OH, right! That was like 4 years ago."

Emily vaguely remembered that case on the national television, "3 victims in the blue ridge parkway?"

"Allegedly. He was never convicted. He fell into a coma before he could be tried."

"Looks like they are gonna get their chance," Hotch paused, "he just woke up."

Everyone sat in silence for a few seconds, processing the information. Four years was an incredibly long time to be in a coma for. "So… What's the process from here on out?" Penelope asked, looking towards the head honcho.

"We'll wait for JJ and Morgan to get here to discuss details, but it looks like Reid and I will be taking a trip down to Roanoke County."

"Hey stranger," Penelope said, twirling around in her chair upon hearing a knock.

"Hey, do you wanna come out for some drinks? I asked JJ, but she's got other plans. And I really need a buddy to hang out with." Emily asked from the door.

The Brian Matloff case had finally ended after three long days, and the entire time, Emily hadn't stopped thinking about her dream from the other night. Hotch and Reid were due to be arriving back from Roanoke within the next hour, and Emily preferably wanted to be gone before she encountered more awkward conversations with Hotch.

"Fear not superwoman, I shall be your sidekick for the night! Oh…" While Penelope shut down all her computers and whispered them a goodnight sleep, she grabbed some sheets of paper from underneath one of her many colourful souvenirs. "So, while you guys were busy formulating theories and while I was busy multitasking, I found some more pictures."

Emily glanced over the first picture, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree, "Oh my God, don't tell me that's Morgan!"

The kid in the picture practically hadn't changed a single bit. Apart from having a messy mop of hair, his smile was still just as wide and cheeky, and his eyes still had that glint he got when something amused him.

"My precious angelic baby…" Penelope whispered as she traced her hand over the miniature Derek. The brunette waved her hand in front of Garcia's eyes when she didn't tear her eyes away from the picture. "Care to guess who our next candidate is…"

"Awwww…" A baby face with oversized glasses and long hair right down to the shoulders. "It's a baby Reid… I kinda see why you're printing them all off, it's quite entertaining."

"Aha."

"What exactly do you plan on using them for?"

Penelope passed a picture of a young blonde girl with ocean blue eyes. JJ hadn't lost her natural beauty at all.

"Well… You know I hardly see you guys all day, and all these goofy and old photos make me happy and remind me of the truly good people in my life. Oh and… Here's Hotch."

Emily hesitated for a split second, before taking a look at the photograph. The first thing she noticed was his dimples… It was rare to see him smile in general, let alone in a picture. And then it was his sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Something about them in conjunction with each other stirred up more feelings she wanted to bury.

"Rossi's is uh…" Penelope searched for the right words, "I'm still searching."

She quickly passed Penelope Hotch's high school picture back and smirked. "Oh, PG, you'll be searching a while. So… You ready?"

"Let's hit it, sister."

A/N: I thought for ages how I could get Emily to start thinking more about Hotch and having a dream about him seemed the perfect way to introduce that. And obviously, just coming out of a break-up and having a good professional relationship with Hotch is bound to stir up some feelings. So, the next few chapters will focus on how she deals with that.

Thanks again for reading everyone! And I'm thanks for all the amazing reviews!