A/N: Well my friends, we have reached the end. I cannot thank you enough for sticking with me over the last seven months. From the bottom of my heart, one more very heartfelt thank you - I am so grateful for you all. I hope you enjoy the end. Now I'm off to drink some (a lot of) champagne and shed a few tears. And of course, a final thank you to LetMeWalkTheEarthWithYou for one last read through.
Chapter 45: Race you to the Light
'Cause my arms are wrapped around you with your face against my neck
We know magic doesn't happen without patience and respect
And the halls have all blown open and the truth is running free
There ain't nothing in this world more alive than you and me
There ain't no one in this world more in love than you and me
His heart simultaneously stops and races all the same.
"Aaron I -" Emily pauses, sniffling less than gracefully as tears run down her cheeks. Her face is an expression he can't read; her hesitancy pulls the air right from his lungs. For a moment, he waits, knowing she's going to say no.
In Aaron's mind, she's hurrying out the door, the final resounding slam ringing in his ears. He's imagining how he'll explain her departure to Jack - surely his son will ask where she is after a few days - how he'll even begin to pick up the pieces of his broken heart and those of his son's. The thought of carrying on is excruciating, knowing just how close they truly were, more often than once. He'll hide the ring in his drawer, glance at it on occasion when he feels like self-tormenting. He'll put on a brave face when the team remembers her fondly, pretending like hearing her name doesn't numb him to his very being.
But he'll never pretend he didn't love her. He couldn't, not even if he tried.
"Aaron, I-" in front of Emily, he looks despondent, a few words away from being rendered a broken man, on the precipice of his undoing, the final act that might destroy him forever.
In Emily's mind, she knows this is it, now or never. For a brief moment, the past once again collides with the present - years of memories, every single one - the good, the bad, the ones she never thought she would recover from. He's lived in her head since the day she laid eyes on him, in her heart for just as long, and yet it still hasn't been enough to make any of this work. But here he is, ready to say now, or never.
Maybe, in this life, they weren't supposed to be together.
But then again, maybe they were, after all.
"Yes. Yes, I will marry you." A few tears drip from her eyes onto his extended hands, the ring catching the light from the sun.
It takes nearly a full minute for her words to register, and only then does he realize there are tears leaking from his eyes too as his face breaks into a smile, the first real one in a long time, and it almost hurts. Aaron fumbles with the ring as he pulls it out of the box, his hands shaking as he slowly takes her wrist and slips it onto her finger. The sparkly diamond reflects in her glistening eyes that are laced with the slightest touch of disbelief as she lifts her hand to the light, staring at the new addition.
"Aaron," she says in shock. The ring nearly takes her breath away; she can barely take her eyes off of it. "When did you … when did you get this?"
He rests his hands on her waist, thumbs stroking over her hip bones. "I saw it when we were at the beach. The night we went to dinner when you were with Jack at the toy store. I saw it in the window of a jewelry store and went back the next day."
Emily remembers it well - Aaron all but disappearing as she and Jack perused an impressive selection of legos and stuffed animals only to meet them outside the toy store with a dazed look in his eyes. He'd reached for her hand as they walked, Jack babbling excitedly between them. The next day he'd done it again, in the early afternoon he'd slipped away, under the guise of forgetting his sunglasses in their hotel room. She'd again been preoccupied, this time watching Jack build a sandcastle, making endless trips to the waves with his buckets and shovels. She thought nothing of his departure until he'd been gone for over an hour. It all makes sense now.
"Why are you crying?" Emily asks nervously, resting her hands on his shoulders then cupping his face in her hands, the ring a perfect fit on her slender finger. "You're not supposed to be crying."
He says nothing, just wraps both arms around her waist and rests his ear to her heart, pulling her in tight as if he'll never let go.
"You can let go of me, Aaron. I'm not leaving," Emily says softly, as reading his mind as she presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You're stuck with me now." Her tone is light but there's weight behind her words, meaning every single one of them.
But he can't, not just yet. "You said yes," Aaron says, still dizzy with disbelief. When he stares up at her, his eyes are still wet. "How did you … you changed your mind."
"I can't walk away again. I've done that too many times." Her fingers trace the contours of his face - his cheekbones and jaw, studying him. "And … I can't imagine being without you. Ever again."
He hugs her again, tighter this time, the quiet moment between them both a healing silence.
When she loosens his arms from around her waist, Aaron watches her every move, pressing his back against the door as she starts digging through her purse. She notices this, and the way she laughs reminds him of the Emily he met years ago. "Relax, Aaron. I'm not going anywhere." There's a phone in her hands now, she's scrolling through the tiny screen.
"What are you doing?"
"I have a flight to cancel," she says an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders. "Remember?"
He'd almost forgotten all about it. Almost. "Right."
It takes less than five minutes to undo what would have taken her away from him again, this time for good. It almost seems too simple.
When it's all done and she's officially here to stay (there's a second phone call made - this one to Clyde), and against his better judgement because Jack is slated to be coming back within the hour, Aaron carries Emily back to his room. He whispers a litany of melodic sweet nothings mixed with affirmations of how much he loves her, that he gets to spend the rest of his life showing and telling her just how much. And while there's a part of her that is absolutely terrified, she's never felt safer than she does now.
"I love you," Emily says once they're divested of their clothes again, swinging her leg gracefully over his lap. He spreads his palms across the expanse of her back, her muscles flexing against his hands, and Emily sinks down on him, letting out a content sigh when she can't go any further. She rocks back and forth, slowly at first until the pace of her hips increases, her head falling as her eyes close. Aaron's hands slide to her waist to guide her movements, simultaneously gentle and firm, until they tip over the edge together, barely making a sound.
...
An hour later, Emily lays with her head on his chest, their fingers laced together, the light from the window reflecting against the diamond on her finger. They're both quiet, neither having gotten much rest the night before. For what seems like the first time in a long time, Emily dozes peacefully, finally at rest. It's the safest she's felt since Ian Doyle had insidiously crept back into her life and his too not that long ago. But that's not what runs through her mind as her eyes close. Instead it's Aaron murmuring to her to sleep, that he'll wake her up in a little while. And instead of remembering the past, she's hopeful for the future. A future with him. The future they've waited for.
When she finally opens her eyes again a little while later, Aaron is laying right beside her, staring at her sleeping form, his hand trailing over her bare arm. It still doesn't feel completely real; he's still half expecting her to vanish at any point, or to wake up and realize this was all a surreal dream.
"Hi." She doesn't move, just stares at him, her face breaking into a smile. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"
"Hi," he whispers back, dropping a kiss on her nose. "You did." He pushes some hair from her eyes, letting his palm linger on her cheek. "Not for very long." His arms curl around her back; Emily melts against his chest with a serene sigh. Her eyes flutter - she feels like she could sleep for days - but her heart is too full to close her eyes again. Beside her, Aaron is lost in thought, gazing at the ceiling with a look of sheer happiness on his face.
"What are you thinking about?" Emily asks curiously, threading her fingers through the hair on his chest.
"How we're going to tell the others." He sounds so fucking happy, and then it comes to her that she is too.
Emily beams, running her fingers over the side of his face. "Why don't we start with Jack?"
...
They're married in a less than traditional celebration in Dave's backyard, a little more than four months later. He'd all but insisted on hosting the wedding, the joy on his face evident as he extended the offer with a twinkle in his eye that says everything his words don't. Took you fools long enough.
In fact, telling the whole team had been a chaotic mess of laughter and tears, their unbridled joy and relief telling in each of their reactions. "I knew it," Reid had said triumphantly. "I saw you leave the wedding together. I knew something was up." There's no hiding the repose on his face when Emily announces she's staying, and the second part of the news only widens the brilliant grin on his face. "I'm really happy for you both."
"So you aren't leaving," Penelope questioned cautiously through her own tears of joy, holding up both hands as she processes the news. She looks almost uncertain, as if it's too good to be true. "You're staying put? Here? With us? For good?"
"Staying put," Emily confirms as Morgan envelopes her in a hug. "For good," she adds, with a sideways glance at Aaron, who stands in the corner watching it all play out before him.
"It's about time," Morgan tells her warmly, his eyes sparkling in a way Emily hasn't seen in a while, giving Aaron a congratulatory handshake.
And from Hawaii, still on their honeymoon, the newlyweds had been just as overjoyed. JJ could barely hide her elation through the phone, choking up as she congratulates them both. These people are her family - Emily's known that all along. The happiness she gets from seeing them happy only solidifies the fact they made the right choice.
Not that it surprises Aaron at all, but Emily wants nothing to do with most aspects of wedding planning. Her non-negotiables are the flower selections, of course, and cake flavors with Jack's highly valued input. She all but demands he come to each of the three tasting sessions she's scheduled. Aaron watches with his heart in his throat as the two of them giggle over their plates, Jack elated with joy as they sample every option in the bakery.
Instead, Allison makes most of the other decisions with Aaron's input, along with help from Penelope here and there. Emily's only request is the ceremony be short, the celebration after be lively, and not too many people. They both agree intimate is best - immediate family, their closest friends. And while he's more than curious about her dress (not that he even wants to see it until that day) the only thing he knows is Emily ordered it online from a small boutique in Paris, sight unseen, going on blind faith. "Allison nearly had a conniption when I told her," Emily tells him one night three months before the wedding when they're snuggled together on the couch. "But I know it's the one."
He spends the rest of the night thinking about Emily in various white dresses, each one more beautiful than the last, his mind running rampant with possibilities.
...
Soon enough, the days wind down into single digits, the last minute details are finalized, and the evening before their wedding comes upon them faster than either of them anticipated.
Aaron almost laughs when he sees Elizabeth's initial reaction to the decorations that adorn most of Dave's backyard and the first floor of his sprawling, massive home. He has to stifle the smirk on his face when Emily rolls her eyes at her mother's close inspection of it all. She stiffens beside him and he discreetly rubs her back, reminding her to breathe as Elizabeth struggles to hold her tongue.
"I have just a few thoughts about some things," is what she says after a thorough inspection upon arrival, and Dave also quirks an eyebrow when he sees the Ambassador's driver unload the small mountain of luggage and garment bags in the foyer of his mansion.
"She never did travel light," Emily mutters to Aaron at her side as Elizabeth picks her way around, making suggestions and corrections to some of the florists and caterers who just happened to be in her path. "We should have eloped."
"But Jack finally agreed to wear the suit," Aaron says quietly, reaching for her hand. "And he's really excited. And, look at her. She's secretly loving this."
It's true. Emily is certain her mother has never looked happier than she does in that moment, despite her intense critiques and demands. "Maybe you're right," she whispers, squeezing back.
"The ceremony is so late, and you know how I feel about outdoor weddings. I certainly hope you have some heat lamps if it's chilly." Elizabeth continues on.
"It's been taken care of, Elizabeth," Aaron offers, chuckling at Emily's barely audible groan of frustration. "We're not worried."
"And Emily, please tell me you're planning on doing something with -"
"Thank you for your input, Mother. But things will stay exactly as they are." Emily takes her mother by the arm, leading her outside with a forced grin, keeping her tone light and airy. "There are some people who are eagerly waiting to meet you. Come on."
As they disappear through the doors into the backyard, Aaron marvels at how far they've come since that first summer. Their relationship isn't fully healed; he suspects it will be years before that happens, if it ever does. But there are conversations and effort on both parts. It's a start, the first step with a long way to go, but he's hopeful. And what he knows is that Emily is too.
...
Their wedding day dawns perfectly crisp, the perfect mix of sun and clouds, the promise of a beautiful fall afternoon ahead. The morning is quiet, just as she prefers, with coffee and breakfast, followed by an afternoon of final preparations before the ceremony. Emily won't see him until the early evening. She and Allison sip mimosas as they get ready that afternoon in a quiet wing of Dave's mansion, reminiscing and looking ahead to the future.
"Aaron will totally cry first when he sees you." Allison says as she downs her second mimosa. She immediately makes a third a third with a rather heavy pour of champagne. "You know he will."
"Maybe," Emily laughs with a shake of her head, being careful not to mess up her hair, because Allison will probably kill her if she does for a second time. "But don't hold your breath." She can't help but think all of this fanfare is completely ridiculous.
"That's not what I heard from Shane when Aaron told him he proposed," Allison quips lightly, a mascara wand in her hand. "I got a much different story."
That surprises Emily just enough that it must be written on her face.
"Don't look so shocked, Em. I think you know him better than that by now.
Emily sips her own mimosa, making a face because it's definitely all champagne. "Maybe you're right." The bubbles go straight to her head as she stares at herself in the mirror. She certainly looks like a bride in the ridiculous silky and lacy white robe Allison insisted she get, and the realness of it all begins to settle. She's marrying Aaron; she gets to spend the rest of her life with him after today. Sometimes it's all too much to process, and tears slide down her cheeks.
"I guess I'm the one who cried first," Emily says, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Allison will definitely kill her if she messes up her makeup. But her friend doesn't even notice.
"I'm really glad we get to celebrate this day together, Emily." Allison wraps her in a hug, one that is so deeply personal. Several years before, they hadn't been able to say the same, and today feels like a new beginning for them, too.
...
Aaron spends a few quiet moments with Jack before the ceremony, fixing his little tie, reminding him just how crucial a ring bearer is to a wedding. "You have the most important job of all, you know." He explains one more time that no one else gets to carry the wedding rings. "We wouldn't be able to get married without you."
His son nods, only half-listening as he inspects himself in the mirror as Aaron makes the final adjustments on his tux. "We look the same, Daddy," Jack says proudly, standing up a little straighter. "We match!"
The joy in his son's voice is telling, his adoration for Emily completely obvious. Aaron's throat tightens as he glances in the mirror one more time. He can't remember the last time he wore a tux - it's been years. But Emily had insisted, therefore it was a done deal.
He checks to make sure the rings are secure and won't slide off the small pillow, and reaches for his son's hand.
"Come on, Jack. We have a wedding to go to."
…
Aaron told himself he wouldn't cry when he saw her for the first time. But he does almost instantly the moment she appears from behind a huge arbor that's been covered with flowers. Emily is stunning, her hair in the loosest of waves. Her dress is perfectly her, minimalistic and long, but scoops low enough to leave her upper back on full display. Indeed, it's the one. If she's nervous, she doesn't show it, almost oblivious to the crowd as she walks purposefully toward him, their eyes locked together, a beautiful floral arrangement in her hands. She walks alone, a choice she'd made early on, one he didn't question.
"Don't cry, Daddy," Jack whispers less than audibly from his place beside Aaron as he carefully hands over the rings. "You're supposed to be happy today."
There's a gentle rumble of laughter from the first row of the audience, and he catches Allison wipe a tear from her own eyes not once, but twice, as he pats Jack on the shoulder. "I am happy, buddy. Don't worry." And from behind him, Dave discreetly catches a few tears of his own.
Emily is the one who cries during her vows first, uncharacteristically tripping over a few words when she promises to love him through the good times and bad. She recovers quickly with a slight quip that she already has, it just took her too damn log to admit it. That garners laughter from the crowd and yet it makes his chest ache because of how damn long it took to get them to this point. Aaron is a bit more composed, his voice never wavering, only choking up when he finally says, "I do," adding the thin sparkly wedding band to her finger.
After they both say I do, shortly followed by the raucous cheers of their guests, and a hug from an elated Jack standing close by, it's mere moments before the bottles of celebratory champagne are opened and passed around. Emily is at his side, beaming with her massive flower arrangement in one hand, the other wrapped safely into Aaron's. He pulls her in another kiss, this one decidedly more passionate than their first as husband and wife as he dips her nearly all the way down this time, egged on by their audience.
The cocktail hour flies by as they are pulled in every direction, seemingly away from each other at all times despite the fact it's their wedding day. But finally as the last round of hors d'oeuvres are served, they find one another again, and Aaron's throat tightens at just how radiant Emily looks in the dusky evening light. "There you are." He kisses her, chaste and quick, when she's finally back at his side, where she belongs. "I've been looking for you."
"Pretty hard to miss, aren't I?" She laughs. "Can't blend in at all in this thing."
"But you look beautiful," he tells her not for the first time. Her dress is stunning in the light; he hasn't stopped staring at her.
"So you've said." Emily blushes, the red of her cheeks a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin, the darkness of her hair. "You like it?"
He's fairly certain he's never seen anything he likes more, but he has other plans for that dress. "I love it, but I can't wait to take it off of you later."
"Good luck," She snickers as she takes a sip of her red wine. The glass hasn't fully emptied all night; someone has always been close by to top it off. "It took Allison forever to get the buttons done. I almost bit her head off a few times."
It's Aaron's turn to laugh at the image of Emily and Allison bickering over the wedding dress, something he can picture perfectly in his mind. He can't help but remember the first time he saw them in action for the very first time, a chaotic mess of drunken laughter, short skirts, and high heels. "Some things never change."
Their first dance is her other non negotiable.
When the first few measures of Summer Wind begin to play and Frank Sinatra starts to croon, Aaron chuckles with a roll of his eyes. "I still can't believe you talked me into picking this as our song." It'd created a small argument two months ago when she proposed the idea, and he begrudgingly agreed when she went doe eyed, reminding him it was one of her favorites.
"What's wrong with it?" She asks, feigning ignorance. They've had this discussion before. More than once.
"This song is about loss, Emily. I lost you to the summer wind?" He'd presented her with a list of options he liked better, unsuccessfully losing the argument each time.
"But it's a classic," Emily laughs in his ear. It's a soft, melodic noise only he's privy to, even as all eyes hone in on them from the edge of the dance floor. It's a front row seat to what should be an intimate moment between them both, and her cheeks turn pink. "They're all staring at us, you know."
"They're staring at you," Aaron reminds her, because it's essentially the truth. He draws his hand more firmly into her back, pulling her in just a little more. "I'm just a prop."
"Oh, shut up." Emily swats the back of his neck and lets him sway her around the dance floor, effortlessly leading her through their steps. While salsa dancing isn't his strength, he's very good at this, his movements smooth and precise, spinning her under his arm and dipping her down.
"I know what you're thinking," Emily murmurs in his ear, enjoying the feeling of his calloused yet gentle hand on her bare back as the music gets louder, swelling around them. "You're stuck with me forever." Her reminder makes his eyes well up, and when he kisses her this time, neither of them even hear anything else around them.
Much to their surprise, even Sean is on his best behavior all night long, and he keeps a watchful eye on Jack and Henry throughout the evening. The two boys look to be having the time of their lives, and Aaron watches his brother with a renown sense of respect.
"I always knew you weren't an intern, you know," is the first thing he tells Emily after giving them both a congratulatory hug. "But you were very convincing."
"I figured as much." Emily says dryly with a wink. "Things were a little more complicated back then, if I remember correctly." She hasn't seen Sean since that night years ago, his attendance today somewhat of a last minute decision.
"We've all done some growing up, I guess." Aaron's brother sips from a beer bottle, staring at the label with a wry grin on his face. "But my taste in liquor hasn't changed, clearly."
Aaron laughs and Emily does too, not having forgotten the disastrous evening they'd had so long ago. At least they can laugh about it now. "Some things never do."
"Can't have too many of these anyway," Sean says proudly with a grin. "Jack is watching. You'd think it's the best day of his life. But if I was a kid about to eat endless chicken nuggets and cake, it would be the best day of my life, too."
The three of them laugh again, setting tentative plans for Sean to make a visit back to Northern Virginia shortly, and Aaron gives him a hug for the first time in years
"My mother is becoming fast friends with Strauss," Emily says observantly a little while later, whispering in his ear as they eat their dinners. She's watching the two women chatter away animatedly, as they've been doing for the last forty minutes. Dave is all but ignored at Erin's side. "I don't know why that terrifies me as much as it does."
"That is terrifying," Aaron chuckles. "Dave doesn't look too thrilled."
"I can only imagine that conversation." Emily rolls her eyes, even though she's smiling. "We'll have to get the scoop from him later. Sometimes I still can't believe he and Strauss have been together for so long."
But Aaron's attention is already elsewhere, somewhere between the curve of her breast and the flute of her hips in that dress, the one she'll only wear once, yet he'll remember forever.
Emily catches him staring, and winks. "Just wait until you see what's underneath."
After that, he can barely finish his steak.
...
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of happiness, the kind that eventually gives way to blissful exhaustion. But they've waited all day for some time alone, a chance for the first of many quiet moments. After they bid goodnight to their guests, they slip into the limo that takes them back home, the one they share together. It's anticlimactic, but he can't imagine it any other way. She's wearing his tux jacket draped over her shoulders, her fingers linked with his the whole way back home.
With a husky After you, Mrs. Hotchner when she slips over the threshold into the house, Aaron carries Emily up the stairs bridal style. "I've waited years to do this," he murmurs on the ascent, breathing her in as she clings to his neck, his lips meeting hers in a kiss. And as Emily promised, the dress is just as hard to take off as it is put on.
But instead of the more traditional wedding night, he remembers half of their cake is tucked away in the fridge, thanks to the caterers. They stay up until nearly sunrise, passing the plate back and forth, exchanging lazy kisses, laughing as they recount the events from the day.
"Did you notice my mother didn't even touch her fucking chicken?" Emily carves out a rather large bite of cake smothered in buttercream as the early morning hours tick by. "She's the one who insisted on chicken."
Aaron rolls his eyes, swiping a bit of frosting off her cheek, noting how her eyelids are starting to droop, her head falling back on the pillow with the plate still in her hands. "Let's go to sleep," he says with a yawn."
Emily frowns, doing a terrible job of hiding a yawn of her own. "But we haven't even -"
"We have tomorrow, and the day after that." He drops a few kisses on her forehead, her cheeks. "And the rest of our lives." Because now, finally, Aaron gets to call her his wife, and it's something he'll never tire of. And the next morning (close to afternoon by the time they're awake), Emily wakes him up, kissing her way down his torso, her long dark hair tickling the tops of his thighs when she meets her destination. He buries a hand in her dark hair, his hips flexing up against her face as he hits the back of her throat, and wonders just how he got so damn lucky.
...
Elizabeth's Charity Gala at the Hamilton Hotel is lavish, a full display of the various members of DC's most elite crowd. While it isn't their first outing as a married couple, it's the first that reminds them of how far they've come in the years it's been since the very beginning. They'd debated on not coming at all, after a long week in Philadelphia on a case, but Elizabeth had been very persistent, so they agree to appease her.
It's who they all but run into less than an hour into their arrival, just a few feet away from the swanky open bar that makes her uncharacteristically anxious, her back stiffening into a tense, straight line. Her hand closes just a little too tightly around her wine, and only then does Aaron see him too.
Emily would recognize him anywhere, even if it's been more than ten years since the last time she actually saw him. She doesn't think of him often, but once or twice he's crept back in her mind like a parasite. She isn't surprised to see he looks exactly the same, just a few more lines around his mouth, a few strands of silver in his dark hair. Much to her chagrin, he's barely aged a bit, still the handsome, arrogant bastard he's always been. "Good evening, Tom," Emily says coolly, never more grateful for Aaron at her side. He clearly senses her nerves and his hand slips to the small of her back, reassuring her of his presence.
It takes all of Aaron's power not to step right between them, a warning of what he'll do again without question, if he gets too close. But here isn't the place, and making a scene would only embarrass her. So he continues to rub her back, steadying her on her feet. Emily makes a mental note to thank him later, and wonders just what the fuck they're doing here.
Tom smiles smugly, unabashedly staring her up and down. "Emily, good to see you," He leans in to kiss her cheek, but he's quickly cut off by Aaron with a curt, yet smooth handshake. The woman beside him, clearly his wife, purses her lips, having seen the tense exchange, clearly aware that some kind of history exists here. Emily briefly wonders if this woman knows the truth of what he can be, what he used to be. Tom's attention turns to Aaron, who regards him with eyes of steel, his jaw set in a firm line.
"Surely you remember Aaron Hotchner." There's a tiny smirk on her face when Tom visibly cringes, shifts uncomfortably on his feet even as he tries to collect himself. "My husband," she adds with just enough satisfaction in her tone.
Tom's eyes nearly pop out of his head when he makes the connection, but he recovers quickly. "Well, isn't this a surprise, Aaron. Last I remember, you were working security for Ambassador Prentiss." His tone is scornful, almost mocking, but he clearly is rattled, as if he found something he wasn't expecting. "Certainly outside your circle, Emily, wouldn't you agree?"
Emily's fingers flex around her wine glass at the insult. He's still the same piece of shit he was twelve years ago. Not that she's surprised at all. "I would argue the opposite, actually." The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife.
"I don't think you've met my wife, Alicia," Tom says smoothly. He introduces the blonde woman at his side. Demure and petite, with an armful of expensive jewelry and a face full of makeup - Emily isn't surprised at all, and she feels a slight touch of sympathy for the other woman.
"I haven't," Emily says in as pleasant a voice she can muster and extends her hand. "Emily Hotchner. I'm an …" she purposefully pauses, waiting for Tom's reaction. "I'm an old friend of Tom's."
"A pleasure."Alicia's tone suggests their introduction is anything but that, and Emily wonders briefly if this isn't the first time she's been put in such a situation. She glances at her husband, then back to Emily. "Tom's never mentioned you before."
"It's been years," Emily offers a thin smile, leaning into Aaron's arm.
"What brings you tonight, Tom?" Aaron cuts in. "Didn't think you were still in Washington."
"We're big donors," he says a bit too smugly. "Ambassador Prentiss and my father remained close until his death two years ago. It felt only right to be here tonight."
"Did it?" He spits; Aaron feels not one ounce of sympathy, resisting the urge to call him every name in the book. He stiffens at the fact Elizabeth clearly has no idea about what went down that very first summer. Knowing that is conflicting; he knows it would all but break her now. Maybe it's best she remains unaware.
Beside them, Emily and Alicia have slipped into a conversation of their own, albeit an uneasy one. It's full of tension hidden behind thinly veiled compliments, small talk about their lines of work and other safe topics, he presumes. As he watches Alicia lift a perfectly arched eyebrow when Emily mentions she works for the FBI, Aaron takes his chance.
"Is that what they say?" he asks, as if daring Tom to keep running his mouth. "I guess you're forever indebted to the people who cover for your past indiscretions." He spots the faint scar on Tom's cheek - one he'd left behind years ago, a satisfying reminder of what he'd done to keep Emily safe. But tonight is all about appearances; there's an image to maintain in this kind of environment. The politics of this world still remain, something that will never cease to make him physically ill. Tonight isn't the place to air grievances, and he's determined to make this as discreet as possible.
"I could have had you arrested for what you did. I should have. You wouldn't have ever stepped foot in the FBI," Tom says with a sneer. "Your career would have been over before it started."
"But then people would have figured out the truth about you," he seethes, remembering the night in the bar clearly. "You have some nerve to show up here, you know, after all this time." Aaron says, his voice dangerously low as he gets close enough that he can see Tom's chest rise and fall a little faster at his words. "I thought you would have learned your lesson the first time. Clearly I was wrong."
"You broke my jaw in two places, you know. You have no idea -"
"And I won't hesitate to break it again in three if you so much as look at Emily again" Aaron says evenly, his voice like steel, never taking his eyes off of him.
Tom's face darkens ominously. He struggles to think of a comeback, quickly flashing a smile at his wife as she takes a few steps closer to her husband's side, her eyes shifting between them both.
"Honey, I think I see the Pearsons. We haven't seen them in so long," Alicia says cautiously, placing her hand on her husband's chest; effectively a barrier between him and Aaron. "Why don't we go say hello?" She glances between Aaron, Emily, and her husband nervously, clearly eager to end the conversation. She looks uncomfortable and undoubtedly unhappy.
Tom barely acknowledges his wife. "Sure, hon. Let's go." He turns to Emily, his eyes cold as ice. "Pleasure to see you, Emily."
"Have a good evening, Tom," Emily says through clenched teeth. "Nice to meet you, Alicia."
Once they're out of earshot, hidden in a private corner of the ballroom as the jazz music swirls around them, Emily takes the first deep breath she's been holding since she spotted Tom and his wife. It comes out a little raspy, the next one even moreso.
"Breathe," Aaron reminds her, using his body as a shield from the crowd to give her a few moments of privacy. Emily downs nearly all of her wine in one nervous gulp. He pushes a perfectly curled piece of hair behind her ear, frowning. "Want to step outside?"
"Please," she says calmly, even though her knuckles white against the wine glass in her hand. "I need some air."
They're safely tucked away from the rest of the crowd on one of the massive balconies when he brushes his lips to her forehead, his fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. Under his grip, her pulse races even as she takes deep breaths. "Take as long as you need, Em." They can just hear the music from inside, the hum of other guests mingling about the balcony, yet they're in a world all of their own.
Emily nods, eyes drifting over the expansive, manicured lawn complete with a fountain and garden in the distance. "I haven't thought about him in years, Aaron." She finishes the rest of her wine, and for the first time in forever, itches for a cigarette. "Years."
"I know." He'd never admit it to her, but Tom's presence shook him almost as much as it did her. "I'm sorry you had to see him like that, Emily."
"He hasn't changed a bit." Emily rests her elbows on the railing, rolling the stem of her empty wine glass between her fingertips. "He's still the same."
"They never do." Aaron's hand finds her back again, rubbing small, gentle circles, his hand warm against the delicate fabric of her dress. He takes the wine glass from her hands, setting it on a nearby table with other discarded ones.
"I feel sorry for his wife. I can't imagine being married to that man for a second." Her eyes look distant; she blinks a few times when she comes back to the present day. "What did you say to him?"
"I reminded him who he really is."
Emily nods thoughtfully, her eyes floating back to the horizon, watching the last tendrils of light disappear from the sky. "It's really been twelve years since that summer, hasn't it?" She links her fingers with Aaron' squeeze of her hand tells him everything she doesn't say out loud. "Can you believe that?"
"If I sleep with my pillow at the wrong angle my neck hates me the next day so yes, I can," Aaron jokes, in an attempt to make her laugh, and he's satisfied to see it has the desired effect.
"You know," she tightens her wrap around her shoulders when the breeze stirs through her hair, fanning it behind her just a little. "If it weren't for him and his bullshit, we might not be here today."
Aaron knows. It's a thought he's had many times over the years, and while he hates every ounce of Tom and always will, he knows Emily is right. He remembers those days well, maybe too well. "Let's get out of here," Aaron throws a wink in her direction. He's over this evening and it's been only an hour.
"But it just started." Emily looks at him in disbelief. She knows that voice, exactly what he's insinuating by leaving. "Aaron Hotchner, wanting to skip out early?" A smile spreads across her face. "You can't wait just a few more hours, you horndog?"
"We have an expensive hotel room all to ourselves," he reasons logically. His eyes - those dark eyes she gets lost in - sparkle with adoration, and she can't turn him down. "Besides, not like anyone will miss us anyway."
"My mother will notice we're gone."
"I doubt that. She's in her element tonight." The last he'd seen his mother-in-law, she'd been floating around the room, greeting and smiling as if she'd been doing it all her life. In some ways, he guesses, she has.
"Aaron," Emily begins, ready to challenge his offer. But her eyes are a mirror of his, the same adoration mixed with a hint of lust as she drops her head against his shoulder, reconsidering his tempting offer. "You're such a bad influence."
"Only when it comes to you."
She bats his arm with her purse. "I have to say," she whispers, watching the waitstaff start to pass around plates of salad. "Room service sounds much better than whatever they're serving here."
"I'm not just talking about room service, Sweetheart." He links his fingers through hers, taking the long way around the ornate ballroom and through one of the exits, stealthily avoiding being seen by anyone they know. They slip right past Elizabeth, deep in conversation with a Senator Aaron recognizes from the news.
It's a massive hotel, with winding hallways and multiple wings, an intricate design. They're not even close to the elevator when Emily staggers beside him, the height of her shoes unforgiving and unquestionably painful. She never wears anything remotely like it, but she'd been convinced by a persistent JJ on a recent shopping trip, and came home with them wearing an amused smirk.
It barely phases him, because within seconds she's in his arms, and he carries her the rest of the way back to their room. His one request (which he whispers so only she can hear) is that she leaves the shoes on once they're safely behind closed doors.
Emily agrees without hesitation.
...
If you would have told him years ago that this would be his future, he would have laughed.
Her wrap lands on a chair along with his jacket. His hands finally slide into her hair, without any concern of messing it up now that they're alone without any plans of returning downstairs. Emily's lips seal against his, licking into his mouth and cupping his face with her hands. Her back is pushed against the wall almost instantly, where he has more leverage, and he slides a knee between her legs to hold her in place while his hands trail down over her. The hitch of her breath in her throat tells him she's been waiting for this.
Aaron explores her body once, his hands working over her waist, her chest, her hips, until he winds his arms behind her and works the zipper of her dress with an ease that comes from years of practice. She's just as skilled, easily working the endless buckles, buttons, and layers of fabric he's wearing.
"This fucking thing," he grumbles as he gets the dress over her head, carefully, because it was expensive and it's one of her favorites, one of his too. "Where were we?" He's never tired of admiring her, and when he steps back to take her in, she uses the moment to get his dress shirt off as his cufflinks go flying.
She's wearing next to nothing now - just a lacy bra and a matching scrap of lace between her legs, and it gives him a perfect view of her body. He nods in approval when he sees her, brushing his thumbs over the lace that encases her breasts, smiling when she sighs. Aaron presses kisses to her shoulders, lightly scrapes his teeth against her jaw and slips his fingertips underneath the band of the bra before getting his hands around the clasp and yanking it open. His lips close around her nipple, and the gentle bite of his teeth is enough to make her cry out, her head bumping into the wall. One of her hands pushes through his hair, keeping his head in place, her back arching right into him as he alternates pressure of his tongue, then bites into the soft skin of her rib cage, and over her collarbones.
Emily stopped flinching months ago whenever his mouth smoothed over the scar on her chest. It's still there, even the skin graft couldn't completely conceal it. When it comes up from time to time, he reminds her it changes nothing; she's beautiful with or without it. Tonight is no different; her eyes only briefly close when his lips come into contact with the uneven ridges in her skin then flutter open to watch him.
The hand that finds her inner thigh soon enough moves between her legs, dipping past the lace to spread her open, his fingertips pressing into her clit, which gets a moan from her, a sharp suck of air into her lungs as he so slowly moves back and forth. He feels her legs buckle and he keeps her on her feet with a strong arm wrapped across her back. "I've got you," he whispers, keeping his thumb against her and slipping two fingers into her. She's wet enough for three and when he adds one more her teeth bite into his shoulder. "Breathe," he soothes, curving his fingers until he gets another moan in response. He does it again, bringing her close, loving the way her even breaths start to fade into a series of needy whines.
Emily's arms tighten around his neck, using whatever leverage she has left to hook a leg around his waist. He gets her up the rest of the way, holding her against him. Somehow they make it to the massive bed without even breaking apart. Her body is wrapped around his and when her back hits the mattress he's right there with her, settling in the cradle of her hips when her legs spread and wrap around him, the sharp press of her heels digging into his back.
Even twelve years later, there's nothing that compares to the feeling of being inside of her, and when he bottoms out completely, unable to move any further, they both sigh in unison. Emily's eyes close as his head drops to kiss the space right above her heart, but when he comes back up it's not enough.
"Open your eyes, Emily. Look at me." He moves within her once, twice, just enough to make her lids flutter open. When she does, he kisses her slowly, as if the world is theirs. They have all night to do just this; they're in no hurry.
"My God, I love you." It's a whisper in her ear, his body completely still within her again, and even so, she suddenly tightens around him, her back arching off the bed and up into him with a soft whimper. It takes him as much by surprise as it does her, and he holds her against his chest as she moans, long and low against his shoulder.
When she comes to, he's stroking her cheek and gently thrusting into her, just enough without it being too much. "Aaron," she whispers. "I love you too, so much." Her hand curls around the back of his head, and she kisses him. "So fucking much."
"Emily," he breathes. "You are so," he punctuates each word with a push of his hips. He brings one of her thighs onto his shoulder, stopping to admire the way the high heels she's still wearing accentuate her long legs. "Fucking perfect."
She whimpers at the change in angle, the depth of which she feels him now, because she's still sensitive and trembling from the first time. He soothes her with kisses and gentle hands until she's rocking against him once again, lifting her hips to meet his.
Aaron pushes her back against the pillows, his hands holding hers above her head as he quickens the pace of his hips. He's driving into her now, the force of his body practically moving her off the bed. Emily starts to unravel again, and unlike the last time it builds long and slow, and she's practically burning with pleasure when he finally - finally - reaches down and presses his thumb against her clit, which is all it takes for her to moan so loudly he cups a gentle hand over her mouth, shushing her quietly. Her eyes roll back a little, he flicks his thumb and her leg trembles on his shoulder. She's so perfectly close, he thinks, putting some force into his hips. Between that and the perfect pressure of his thumb, she looks so close, to the point of tears, her face contorted in bliss as he builds her up, taking his time doing so.
His free thumb strokes her lips, uncovering her mouth to reveal a whimper. "You're so fucking beautiful," he rasps as the leg around his hip digs into his thigh. "Especially like this."
"Aaron, I'm going to -"
"Come on, Sweetheart. Come for me," he coaxes her, and this time she screams when it hits her in a long wave. He groans at the sight of her writhing beneath him, and with one more thrust he spills into her, her name on his lips when he falls against her, sated and spent for a little while.
But true to his word, they have all night, and make the very most of it. Aaron pulls three more orgasms out of her before she's exhausted, practically melting against him in a heap. And after her body can take no more, he carries her to the bathroom, filling the lavish jacuzzi tub. With Emily's back against his chest, they soak in the huge tub up to their shoulders, letting the water soothe the ache of their muscles.
The rest of the evening is spent with a large delivery from room service and a bottle of wine passed between them, a movie playing quietly in the background.
They both decide it's worlds better than whatever is happening eleven floors beneath.
…
Emily meets Allison for lunch several weeks later, a date they've had to reschedule multiple times due to demanding work schedules and obligations that come with marriage, and children. Emily wants to postpone again - she's exhausted and could desperately use a quiet afternoon to grind some work out before going home early, but agrees to meet her anyway. It's a warm afternoon with a breeze; they sit outside and catch up, jumping right back into where they left off the last time.
"Are you going to eat that?" Allison jabs her fork at Emily's half eaten salad, almost forty minutes into their lunch. "Or are you just going to pick at it?"
"No," Emily says with a groan, a headache brewing between her temples. The thought of salad makes her stomach lurch. A quick glance of her watch reminds her it's only early afternoon; there's another few hours of work left ahead even after she leaves. "It's all yours."
"Thanks," Allison says with a big smile. "I can't believe you're not going to finish this."
"I'm not that hungry."
Allison touches her four month bump with a snicker. "What's that like?"
"Allison, I've known you for years. Being pregnant has nothing to do with how much you can eat."
"This is true," her friend agrees with a laugh, devouring Emily's leftover salad. "You know what I was thinking the other day?"
"I couldn't even begin to imagine what goes through your mind on a daily basis."
"Do you ever think about how far we've come? Since the summer you met Aaron?"
"And when you started dating Shane in secret?"
"Exactly."
"Sometimes," Emily says thoughtfully. "But sometimes I still can't wrap my head around it all." She twists her wedding ring around her finger.
"Everything turned out the way you wanted it to. The way we wanted it to." Allison strokes her belly again. "Maybe all those years of being fuck-ups paid off somehow."
Emily nods, forcing a laugh as a wave of nausea washes over her before she even realizes what's happening. It catches her so off guard she nearly knocks her water over.
"You sure you're okay, Em? You seem … distracted."
"Yeah," Emily says quickly, doing her best to reassure Allison who doesn't exactly look convinced. "I'm just - " At that moment, it dawns on her. She's more than three weeks late.
…
There's no way, Emily tells herself the next afternoon, hidden in the tiny bathroom around the corner from the bullpen. She lays her head in her hands as she leans against the sink, holding the white stick in her hands. "Absolutely no way." She says the words out loud, because maybe if she does, it won't be true. She should have figured it out. But things have only gotten busier since the wedding, and this the very last thing on her mind. They aren't exactly trying, yet they certainly haven't been careful, either. It'd taken her all morning to work up the nerve to even take the damn test, every ounce of her expecting it to be a fluke.
It can't be true, yet the truth stares her right in the face, two dark lines clearly evident.
It's not that she isn't completely overjoyed, but there's an innate sense of fear that builds, one that unsettles her. It wasn't supposed to be this easy, she thinks anxiously, staring at the stick once more, still expecting it to change.
Emily is halfway up the steps to his office, only to see the lights off. She remembers Aaron is in a meeting with Strauss for the rest of the day, most likely into the evening. He'd mentioned it that morning; she'd been too lost in her own thoughts to even pay attention to what he was saying. The news will have to wait until he's home much later that evening.
…
"I need to talk to you," Emily says after dinner once Jack is settled in the living room with some ice cream and a movie humming in the background. "There's … we really need to talk." She sinks down into one of the chairs, resting her head on her fist. Her mind has been running in circles for hours, a relentless cycle of anxiety, apprehension, and the smallest bit of hopeful relief.
"What is it?" He's suspected something since the moment he got home, and even more so when Emily barely touched her dinner.
"I think I'm pregnant," she says before she can talk herself out of it, her voice timid, barely audible over the sound of the faucet and plates clanging together, and the rest of the dinner dishes nearly slide right out of his hands. "I'm late."
"You think? Or you know?" His eyes widen hugely, fixed on her pale face, searching her for a reaction. "Did you take a test?" The mess in the sink is all but ignored now, the water still running as he reaches for her hand, finding her fingers are cold as ice.
"This afternoon."
"And?"
"It was positive," Emily says nervously, tapping her foot against the floor as she digs into her pocket for the white plastic stick that's been there all afternoon.
His chest swells, cupping her face with his hands as he processes the news. "You're … you mean we're - "
"I think so," she says quietly, her voice tinged with a hopefulness that makes his heart twist in his chest. "I can't believe it." And for the first time she smiles through the tears that well in her eyes, wrapping her hands around the wrists that cup her face.
Aaron has never believed in miracles, but he's fairly certain this might be what changes his mind. He kisses her, the elation coursing through his mind and his heart. "I can."
...
The morning sickness and fatigue hit her almost immediately, coming on fast with little reprieve, and it's not uncommon to find her napping in his office at the BAU in those early weeks. Because of this, the team finds out soon after. Dave is the most protective, and on more than one occasion, Emily rolls her eyes when he walks just a little farther ahead to open a door, carries her bag, and gives her the most comfortable seat on the jet. "I'm just pregnant, Dave. I can still manage just fine," is what she tells him, finally fed up at the special treatment.
"I know," he says with a wink, glancing at Aaron with a knowing stare. "But your husband might not ever let me hear the end of it."
Aaron goes to as many appointments as he can, his hand a fixture in hers at each one. And while nothing compares to hearing the first heartbeat at five weeks (early, because of her history), or knowing all is well at the twenty-week anatomy scan, there are challenges he didn't quite anticipate. That part is new to him - Haley's pregnancy had been picture perfect, after all. And while Emily's goes smoothly despite the initial symptoms, sometimes the fears that plague her mind - the ones she's lived with for years, tucked away, finally have a chance to rear their ugly head in a way neither of them are prepared for. At times, it breaks him into pieces.
One day at the start of her third trimester, he finds her in their bedroom propped up against a mountain of pillows, her shirt pulled up over her stomach.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" There's a faintly familiar sound - something resembling that of an ultrasound, and as he steps closer, quietly closing the door behind him, what he finds doesn't surprise him at all.
"Checking the baby's heartbeat," Emily says simply, moving the wand over her stomach, her face twisted in a worried frown. "That can't be right." Her face darkens at whatever she sees on the screen, and he can already sense her panic rising.
"Where did you get that?" He points to the portable ultrasound monitor in her hands.
"Allison told me about them. I never knew you could just order one off the internet." Emily is intensely focused on the tiny screen in her hands. "But I don't know if it's working correctly."
"Let me try." Aaron sits down beside her, gently taking the monitor and wand from her hand, moving it over her carefully. He's watched the technicians do this before - it can't be that hard, right? Emily lays back, watching his every move as he completes what she started. Aaron offers a reassuring smile when he finally holds up the monitor, proving his point. "See?"
"140. They said that's good." There's a touch of relaxation in her face, the relief evident in the way her shoulders sag.
"Emily," Aaron says, switching the monitor off. "You know it's going to be okay, right? You heard what they said at your last appointment."
Emily nods reluctantly, staring at the wall. "I know," she mumbles, looking slightly embarrassed. "I was there."
"Everything looks great," he says, remembering her doctor's words, the emphasis on that last one that had made his heart swell and Emily beam. "You remember that, don't you?"
"I remember." She blushes, and then sighs. "But I worry. I worry every day." She cups the swell of her growing stomach, absentmindedly rubbing circles, and his larger hand comes to cover hers. "And sometimes the closer we get, the more worried I become."
"I know, Em." His thumb brushes over the smooth skin of her wrist. "I know. But we will get through it and she'll be here before we know it."
Her head snaps up, her eyes wide, a small smile on her lips. "What makes you think they're a she?"
Aaron kisses the top of her head. "Just a feeling."
...
His predictions were correct.
It's a bitterly cold day in February when Emily gives birth to their daughter Nora Elizabeth Hotchner, exactly nine months after the night they'd spent in a lavish hotel room with a bottle of wine and room service. An impending snowstorm nearly shuts down all of Northern Virginia, and they make it to the hospital just as the first flurries start to fall, coating the grounds quickly and rendering travel almost impossible.
Aaron has never been more grateful for Dave, who insists on driving them directly to the hospital in Fairfax from Quantico. It was in the middle of a case review when Emily suddenly lurched forward in pain, and it's only after some prying he learns that she's actually been having contractions all morning.
"You didn't think to tell me this morning?" He asks her as patiently as he can, in slight disbelief, even though every part of him wants to shout every expletive he knows. "Before we drove to work during a winter storm warning?"
"I didn't think it was actually time," Emily breathes. It's getting harder to hide the fact that the pain she's feeling is very real now, and she says a silent prayer her water doesn't break in the middle of the BAU.
There are a few moments of complete pandemonium when everyone springs into action. Aaron calls Jessica with the news (school has already been cancelled and she's at their house watching Jack on his snow day). Morgan is already on the phone with the Baltimore PD, because none of them are about to travel now. JJ is immediately at Emily's side, and Reid backs himself against the wall, holding up his hands innocently, muttering something about knowing nothing about babies, and that he's just going to stay out of the way.
It's finally Garcia who calms them all down, of all people. "Everyone just needs to take a big, deep breath, and stop freaking out. Or else I'm going to freak out."
"Next time, please tell me this before we're at work." Aaron is doing his best to be the picture of calm as they maneuver awkwardly to the car. Emily's face is already pale and a sheen of sweat has appeared on her forehead.
"Trust me, Aaron. After this, no more kids. Forget it. This is it," Emily pants, her hand wrapped tightly around JJ's as she's rolled to the elevator on a makeshift wheelchair - the chair from Reid's desk. She'd insisted she could walk but Aaron was adamant she sat down, his tone leaving no room for arguments. "We still have a week left!" At one of her last appointments, which have increased in frequency over the last few weeks, her doctor told her baby was comfortable, in no hurry to arrive anytime soon, that she could even go past her due date. Emily had grumbled a bit, since sleeping had already become a challenge along with most other tasks. At this point, she's entirely over being pregnant.
"They decide when they're coming, Em. Remember Henry?" JJ remembers with a chuckle as they amble out of the building and into the waiting car, Dave in the driver's seat. "Good luck, and get the epidural, I'm telling you, you're going to need it."
Aaron curses each and every driver on the road, gripping the center console and directing Rossi through the thickening traffic. "It's like everyone in Northern Virginia forgets how to drive when it snows," he grumbles, setting his jaw and glancing at Emily as a snow plow churns past them. Rossi is the picture of calm, even a tiny bit amused. "Take care of your wife, Aaron. I'll take care of the road. Never knew you were such a backseat driver."
"You don't know the fucking half of it, Dave," Emily wheezes through what Aaron guesses is another contraction from the backseat. "Why do you think I never drive anywhere?"
Dave only chuckles, and steps down on the gas just a little bit faster.
Thankfully, it only takes fifty minutes with the snow instead of the typical 40 without snow. They're ushered into labor and delivery as soon as they arrive, a call immediately put in to Emily's doctor. What she didn't anticipate, despite doing an inordinate amount of research over the last eight months, was the sixteen hours of labor that come after she's been admitted. There's some relief after the epidural, but things move slowly, almost like time moves backwards.
It's a full two hours of pushing before Emily's resolve starts to crumble and the epidural begins wearing off on one side, something else she didn't expect at all. Aaron's hand is almost completely numb, fairly certain there's a pinched nerve somewhere but he doesn't care. Emily is leaning on him, her back pressed against his chest. He's practically supporting her whole body at this point; she trembles with exhaustion in his arms. After each contraction she sags against him. "I'm so tired, Aaron," she groans, her head rolling back onto his shoulder.
"You're doing great, sweetheart," Aaron murmurs to her yet again, pressing his lips to her damp cheek as she struggles through one more contraction. "Just a few more minutes." He sounds calmer than he feels, because in reality he's an absolute mess, and has been for the last hour. Seeing her in any kind of pain is enough to make him sick to his stomach.
"Aaron's right, Emily," her doctor says from her position at the foot of the bed. "I can see the head." Dr. Lawrence is practically beaming too. She'd been more than surprised to see Emily in her office nine months ago, after what had happened many years prior. But she'd been a saving grace to them both, patiently answering their every question, assuring Emily through every appointment. She'd been a blessing every single step of the way, one they are both eternally grateful for.
"You said that a half hour ago," Emily attempts to sit up, nearly crushing Aaron in the process, straining her neck to see what's happening. "I can't see her -" Another contraction takes her by surprise, and she gasps. "Son of a bitch," Emily wails, this time a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "So much for that fucking epidural."
Dr. Lawrence smiles knowingly as the end is near. "One more big push."
"One more, Emily." Aaron repeats the doctor's words and steadies her as best he can, and with one more valiant effort, their daughter is born.
"She's perfect," Dr. Lawrence says almost immediately as Nora comes into the world wailing, limbs flailing, with a full head of dark hair. "Congratulations."
"Sounds just like the day I met you," Aaron teases, carefully sliding off the bed and settling Emily back against the now-flattened pillows, brushing her hair out of her face. "All those years ago."
"Oh, shut up," Emily sighs with exhaustion, but smiles as Nora is finally placed on her chest, and then starts to cry too. She's a mess; her hair is stuck to her forehead and sweat beads down her hairline as tears roll down her face. Aaron can't take his eyes off his wife or his newborn daughter, and soon enough there are tears streaming down his face.
…
The snow ceases enough for plows to make the roads somewhat salvageable, giving a few short hours that Jessica is able to bring Jack to meet his sister. He's quiet but curious when he comes through the door, hugging Aaron and waving at Emily, his attention entirely drawn to Nora. Always the precocious child, he marvels at the baby's dark hair, shyly admiring her in Emily's arms.
"Would you like to hold her, Jack?" Emily asks warmly, reassuring him with a smile.
He nods enthusiastically, and under Aaron's watchful eye, holds Nora proudly in his arms. "My name is Jack," he whispers, and then, with a bit more annoyance in his voice he asks, "Why did it take you so long to come out, Nora?"
From his place beside Emily, Aaron presses a kiss to her head, smiling into her hair as they watch Jack with Nora. It's clear he's already smitten with his sister, and willingly agrees to take a picture, smiling hugely for the camera with Nora in his arms.
Their world is complete, healing the last remaining fragments of their hearts.
...
"The team is here," Aaron says softly about an hour after Jack and Jessica have gotten home safely. "You think you're up for some more visitors?"
"Bring them in." She's been waiting to see them. When Aaron returns, slipping through the door, she can see the rest of the team right behind him, and she smiles, because she's never been more excited to see all of them, too.
"You couldn't hold us off forever," Dave chuckles as he, Morgan, JJ, Reid, and Garcia all flood into the room. "But you should see the roads. Everything is starting to freeze over again. It's going to be a mess for awhile." But of course, he's beaming like the rest of them.
"Next time we drive through a damn snowstorm Rossi better figure out where the hell he's going." Morgan spots Nora first, coming to a halt in the middle of the room, and Emily knows she isn't seeing things when a tear rolls down the corner of his eye. "Thought we were going to crash the whole time."
"I got us here in one piece, didn't I?"
The happiness that radiates from them all is palpable, and when she looks around at the group of people who have become her family over the last eight years, Emily's heart has never felt more whole.
"It's statistically proven that everyone in Northern Virginia forgets how to drive when it snows," Reid chimes in, stumbling over his own two feet as the rest of them file into the room, nearly pushing each other over to get a look at the baby.
Penelope is at Emily's side instantly, waving a huge pink bow and matching outfit, suddenly on a tangent about baby clothes and Nora's wardrobe, that she'd ordered just a few things on a whim the week before, based on a feeling they'd be having a girl. JJ hugs Emily gingerly, taking a more discreet approach. "Did they bring you those ice packs?" she asks quietly, low enough that only Emily can hear, with a knowing smile. "You'll need those later on. Take some home with you."
It's a happy and joyous gathering, but one that feels almost bittersweet at the same time. Emily's eyes linger on them for a few extra moments as they leave, because their departure signifies another new beginning in their lives. For the first time in years they'll continue on without her for a while, and she certainly didn't expect to feel a slight pull in her chest as the door shuts behind Dave.
Another new beginning, she thinks. One that feels right.
...
Much later, it's just the two of them, laying together in the bed watching the snow that has started to fall again.
"You're amazing," Aaron brushes a kiss against her forehead. "I'm so proud of you, you know."
Emily laughs, yet it doesn't hide how exhausted she is now that things are quiet. "I don't know if amazing is the right word to use, Aaron." She shifts to a more comfortable position, grimacing immediately at the discomfort.
"Don't move so fast," Aaron moves away to give her space, readjusting the pillows behind her head with a frown. "You're in pain aren't you?"
She can't help but roll her eyes. Since the team had left almost two hours ago, he's asked her the same question no less than eight times."I'm okay." She caresses the side of his face with a reassuring smile, doing her best to hide the fact that she is in fact incredibly sore, not to mention the unexpected cramps that have started too. "But JJ was right about those ice packs."
"Do you need another one?" Aaron is already reaching for the call button. He's been nothing less than completely attentive to her every need, anticipating her every request and doing everything in his power to ensure she's as comfortable as possible.
"I'm okay for now." Emily says reassuringly. "I promise."
"I don't want you to be -"
"I just gave birth, Aaron. I'm going to be sore for awhile. You know that, right?"
"I have done this once before," he retorts with something that looks like a reminiscent smile. It tugs at her heart just a little bit when he remembers the birth of his son. "But I also know you, and you wouldn't tell me if you were actually hurting, so I'm left to my own devices."
Sometimes, it's frightening how well he knows her. "Let's make a deal. I promise I'll tell you if I need something, if you promise not to ask me every five minutes if I'm in pain."
"Deal." He grins, unable to hide his sheer happiness as he fixes a pillow under Emily's arm, taking Nora into his own for a few minutes. "Jessica said Jack talked about her the whole way home."
Emily nods. "I know he said he wanted a brother but -"
"He loves her already, sweetheart." Aaron perches on the side of her bed, adjusting the robe that has slipped down past her shoulder, while staring at Nora in his arms. ""Have you called your mom?"
"Yeah," she says softly. "A little while ago."
"When did that happen?"
"When you and Jessica took Jack to get food. She's going to come once we're settled at home." Emily yawns into her fist. "You should have heard her when I told her what we picked for a middle name."
It makes him smile too; the middle name pick had been his idea. "I think she looks like you," he observes. Nora has since woken up, and is staring at them both with sleepy eyes, and Aaron passes her back to Emily.
She beams as she nestles the baby against her chest. "I can't believe we actually did this."
"I know." He kisses her, thinking of all the other times he's done so over the years, the burn in his lungs a reminder of everything that got them to this very point in time.
Aaron's forehead is on her shoulder; Emily drops a kiss on the back of his head. "I wouldn't want to do it without you, you know," she whispers. "Any of this."
"You'll never have to," he whispers back, a quiet promise he'll never break.
...
One Sunday Morning, Three Years and 9 Months Later
Aaron wakes up just after dawn on a Sunday in October, when the mornings are chilly but afternoons are pleasantly crisp, a sure sign that fall is here. He carefully unwraps himself from around a still sleeping Emily, and shifts across the mattress, being careful not to wake her. It'd been a tough week of little sleep for them both. Even at almost a year old, Leo has never been a good sleeper. Coupled with Nora's relentless fear of the dark, sleep is somewhat of an anomaly lately, and he isn't about to interrupt the one calm night they've had in days. Their room is cold, thanks to the open windows, which she'd insisted upon before they went to bed. The sun casts the room with beams of light, the trees in the distance a brilliant rainbow of red, orange, and yellow. It's idyllic and peaceful, and every so often he has to pinch himself to remember this is in fact reality.
Leo had been the greatest of gifts. They certainly hadn't planned on having another. In fact, they'd been told the chances were even slimmer after Nora was born. But sure enough, Emily had found out just before Thanksgiving last year while they were on a case in Seattle, when she couldn't ignore the waves of nausea, or credit the intense fatigue to anything except the unthinkable. An emergency trip to the drugstore was immediately followed by a few emotionally charged moments in a cramped Seattle Police Department bathroom. Aaron had pulled her off the case immediately, and behind closed doors they shared an embrace, both crying tears of joy in each others' arms at the unexpected news.
On his trek down the hallway, Aaron almost trips over a wayward pair of shoes (Jack's) and steps directly on a set of plastic dress-up shoes (Nora's), cursing under his breath as he leans over to pick up both. But the constant reminders of them leave a smile on his face as he moves down the stairs of the house they'd purchased shortly before Leo was born.
Aaron makes her coffee, the steps a familiar process as this is a sacred routine for him every Sunday morning. Except today is just slightly more special. He takes great care to prepare it exactly as she prefers it, even if it takes an extra ten minutes, the expensive coffee beans, and the French Press. They never have time for frills during the week, but this is her favorite, and he's more than happy to appease her whenever he can.
On his way back upstairs he passes the three closed bedroom doors - Nora and Leo are still fast asleep, but if he gets close enough, he can just hear the telltale chirp of Jack's Nintendo Switch from behind the door. He makes a mental note to take the Switch before bedtime tonight as he shoulders the door of their room open and closes it behind him. When he does, he finds a barely awake Emily amidst a pile of pillows, beneath layers of blankets.
She props herself up on both elbows, the thick comforter falling down over her bare chest, which he eyes appreciatively, briefly wondering how much time they have before the kids are fully awake. "Good morning." Emily smiles gratefully when she spies her coffee mug in his hand. She takes a whiff of the aromatic scent that lingers in the air. "You've been busy, haven't you?"
"Happy birthday Sweetheart," Aaron says smoothly, setting the mug down on her nightstand and bending down to kiss her, his lips pressed against hers for a few seconds longer than usual. "How long have you been up?"
"Just a few minutes." Emily stretches languidly as her hair fans out over the pillows. "You didn't have to do this, you know. I'm perfectly capable of making my own coffee."
"This is just the beginning," Aaron tells her with a wink, even though she tells him this every Sunday. And yet every Sunday after that, he still does it. "Jack and Nora have a few birthday plans of their own, you know." He settles beside her, drawing her into his arms (like he does every Sunday), his fingers trailing over the side of her breast.
"And I'm sure you had nothing to do with it." Emily quips, resting her head against his chest with a sigh. "Right?"
"Not at all." His arms close around her as he kisses her temple, then across her cheeks, then to her lips. In his arms she's pliant and warm, as he rolls her onto her back, threading his fingers through her sleek hair. She tastes like mint, her skin holds traces of whatever soap she'd used the night before, and he breathes her in contentedly through a series of kisses that open her up to him, her arms curling around his neck, one leg around his waist.
The kids will be up any moment, and Leo will have to be fed soon before the rush of the day, but they're both content to just stay in that moment a little while longer. A few minutes later, there's the sound of a bedroom door creaking open in the hallway, the tap of feet against hardwood and then the whine of another door opening as Nora wakes her older brother.
"Jack! Wake up, Jack!" The high-pitched squeal of their daughter's voice is followed by the gentle scolding voice of an older brother to his younger, adoring sister when the door swings open. "Be quiet, Nora!"
Aaron and Emily both listen, still wrapped in each other's arms, the telltale bickering of their children coming from Jack's room even with their door firmly closed.
"And there it is," Aaron says with a soft laugh as he tucks some stray hair behind Emily's ear, leaving kisses along her jaw. "That didn't last long."
"How much time do we have before someone is crying?" Emily jokes, briefly closing her eyes, tightening her arms around him to keep him there a little longer.
"Based on past experience, a few minutes at most." Aaron runs his fingers down her arm, dropping kisses along the side of her jaw.
"A few minutes is all we need, you know." Emily bats her eyes coyly, pressing her body into his to signify what she wants, and he's never been able to deny her; he's not about to start now.
"Quick," he agrees, leaving a kiss on her breast as his fingers dip between her legs, groaning when he finds her slick and ready. "Emily," he murmurs as shifts over her, dropping his head to kiss her as he strokes her with his thumb, his touch practiced. "I love you."
Her eyes close, head falling back, and he knows it won't take long. "Open your eyes," he murmurs, smiling at her when she does. The push of his hips inside of her is long and slow, enough to make her bite down on his shoulder as she feels every inch of him. Even though soon enough they'll be pulled in every direction except each other, all they have now is time. It's exactly how it should be. The years of heartache and pain, the separation and secrets, the uncertainty and distrust. It's all been completely worth it, for this, the life they have built from nothing. Aaron stays absolutely still, reminding her just how much he loves her, how fucking happy he is.
"Aaron," she demands, wanting no part of it at the moment. She's pulling him closer to her with a hand on the nape of his neck, shifting impatiently. It's a demand. "Please."
The kiss he leaves on her lips is a promise of another soon after that, the stillness of his body a tease. But eventually he starts to move, Emily's legs wrapped around his back, the soft moans in his ear becoming louder with every second that passes. And when he feels her start to flutter around him, a scream building in her throat, Aaron seals his mouth over hers, bringing her closer and closer but not quite letting her go. Not yet.
It's a few more moments of just that - keeping her as close as he can, raspy I love yous and utterances of affirmations, the speed of his rhythm blinding. Emily arches her back into him, doing her very best to stay quiet. It takes nearly of his concentration and hers too, each of the incomprehensible noise she moans into his mouth sending him closer, pushing her hips up just enough to completely overwhelm him.
With locked eyes they finish together, surprising themselves when they both hardly make a sound. He uses the remainder of his strength to not collapse right on top of her. Beneath him Emily is just as exhausted, and he has to carefully uncurl her legs from his waist, her arms from around his neck.
Aaron brings her into his chest, their quiet Sunday morning about to end. His fingertips are gentle against her spine. "Happy birthday, Emily. I love you."
The way she snuggles against him tells him all he needs to know- that she loves him just as much. Not that he didn't already know. There's the soft creak of a door opening again, the thump of feet on the stairs - a clear sign their children are in fact awake. "I'll go," he whispers into her hair before throwing the covers back. "Take a few more minutes. We'll be downstairs."
The last lingering kiss between them, at least for a little while, reminds them both of what they are, were, and what they'll always be, together.
Complete.