Author's Note: Picking up about ten minutes after we left them in bed.

Prompt Set #14

Show: 30 Rock

Title: Retreat to Move Forward

Dominoes Falling

"No ma'am . . . yes, ma'am . . . right . . . no . . . yes . . ."

Hotch reached out to tap the on button for the coffee maker before he turned around and leaned back against the counter, continuing to listen to Strauss' non-stop rambling.

"I'll let you know as . . . yes . . . yes, as soon as I hear anything further . . . uh, huh. Right . . . all right," he pinched his nose, "update at 9:30 regardless of whether there's any news. Bye."

He huffed out a puff of air as he hung up the call.

Okay, that hadn't gone quite as badly as he'd feared it might have. And that was because he'd actually woken Strauss up, so there was NO chance that she'd heard anything from anyone before it came directly from him!

She hadn't even made a comment about not calling her the night before.

And really, the more he thought about it, the less he'd felt that was an issue either. There wasn't a damn thing that she could have done last night, because it simply wasn't a Bureau matter. It wasn't a terrorist act or something connected to a case. This was, at its core, a local level criminal situation that had (so far) dragged three employees of the Bureau into its web.

But . . . Hotch scrubbed his hand down his face as he yawned . . . it still wasn't their web, to untangle. It continued to be a local matter, and hopefully the locals would resolve it soon.

So with that final dismissive thought on things related to Strauss, Hotch stood there for a second just listening to the coffee trickling slowly into the pot as he took stock of the day ahead and the things that still needed to be done.

Currently it was barely 6:49 am, Emily was taking her shower, he'd started the coffee and given Strauss her update so she wouldn't get blindsided at the senior staff meeting. So essentially . . . he headed into the living room to open the blinds . . . they had crossed off the first three of the fifty-six or so items on his To Do list.

So yeah . . . he rolled his eyes . . . the rest of the day should fly by.

Just as Hotch reached up to turn the blinds his hand froze . . . then he pulled it back down.

No, until Lipsky was caught, they were living like vampires. Shades down, blinds drawn, curtains closed. Not only did Hotch not relish the idea of being on any of Lipsky's future displays of wall art, but after the emotional blows Emily had suffered the night before, Hotch needed this one place to not only be safe, but also completely private.

And with the blinds drawn there was no chance that anyone could spy on them in here.

He knew that at work she was going to be under scrutiny. Her friendship with Kelly certainly wasn't a secret within the glass walls of the BAU. For the better part of the last two years, Kelly had been in an out of the Unit to pick up Emily for coffee and lunch. So as soon as the news of her murder spread . . . and it would spread quickly, Hotch had already checked the headlines on the Post and it was right on the top of the page . . . Emily was going to be inundated with sympathetic stares and whispers behind her back. His gaze unconsciously shifted towards the hall where Emily was showering.

And that much attention was going to make her very uncomfortable.

Actually . . . a thought occurred to him as he stepped over to pick up Daisy's water bowl . . . maybe he'd keep both Daisy and Emily in his office today. It would keep Emily from getting the unwanted attention in the bullpen, and it would keep him from getting repetitive motion disorder twisting his neck every five minutes checking to make sure that she was all right.

Okay . . . he started filling Daisy's bowl with fresh water . . . good. For today his new home roommates would be his new work roommates as well.

When Hotch leaned down back to put the clean water back on the floor, he realized that Daisy was hiding under the kitchen table watching him.

It was the first sighting since she'd fled from Emily's room at three am.

So in an effort not to startle her away, Hotch slowly stooped down to her level and extended his hand. Then he wiggled his fingers slightly until Daisy cautiously stepped out to come over and sniff them.

Once he was again identified as a safe person . . . prior to last night they had met at least a half dozen times at Emily's when Hotch was over for dinner . . . she bumped her head against his leg and he started scratching behind her ears.

Okay . . . he sighed as she began to purr . . . well, at least one of the Prentiss females was feeling good today. And after a few seconds of ear scratching he picked the cat up off the floor, holding her to his chest with one hand as he went over to pour his coffee with the other.

If he was going to be keeping Daisy in his office he wanted to make sure that they had a little bit of bonding time before they left the house. He knew that she needed some stability to feel safe, so he felt guilty about dragging her out of here again so soon. But really, they just couldn't risk leaving her alone. And knowing that she was going become agitated again when they walked out the door, it would be nice if his presence could at least offer her as much comfort as Emily's did.

Well . . . he tipped his head slightly as they sat down at the table . . . she wouldn't be AS comforted with him as Emily. But he wanted to make sure that at least she wasn't nervous around him. So for the next few minutes they just sat together at the table, Hotch reading the headlines on his laptop and drinking his coffee, while Daisy purred on his shoulder and the two of them waited for Emily to get out of the shower.

Finally he heard the bathroom door open and he closed his computer and pushed it aside so Emily wouldn't see what he'd been reading.

The full Post story about the murder.

But then a few seconds later she appeared in the doorway rubbing her wet hair with a towel while once more wearing the t-shirt that she'd worn to bed.

That's when Hotch realized that he should have given her his robe before she went into the bathroom.

Oh well . . . his gaze slowly traveled up those lusciously long legs . . . he was starting to grow very fond of this particular t-shirt.

Emily's lip quirked up when she saw Hotch and Daisy sitting at the table together . . . that was not expected.

And after she'd put the towel on the counter, she walked over and put one hand on Hotch's shoulder and the other on Daisy's head.

"Are you being a good girl, Daisy?" She murmured quietly, while petting the soft orange fur.

Really, Emily was just so glad to see her out from under wherever it was that she'd been hiding. And she was also relieved to see that she and Hotch had taken to each other so well. They'd only had passing encounters at her home over the past few months. And a lot of men preferred dogs to cats, so it would have been awkward for Emily staying with him, worrying that Hotch was bothered by having a pet in his house that he didn't like simply for its species.

But seeing them together like this was more than she could have hoped for, and one less thing to worry about.

As was starting to become habit . . . one he needed to not fall into at the office . . . Hotch's free hand fell to Emily's hip as he nodded to her comment.

"She is being good, and I told her about the trip to the office."

Emily huffed slightly as her gaze shifted from the cat to the man.

"And what did she say to that?"

"She said," Hotch gave her a look, "that she'd prefer it if you were close by today," he tipped his head as he finished softly, "so I told her that both of you could stay with me upstairs."

There was no reason to go into all of the reasons he thought it would best for Emily to get out of the bullpen. It would just give her more things to worry about. So he'd hoped that veiling it in addressing Daisy's psychological well being, would be enough to get Emily to agree to stay upstairs, without making it a real conversation.

Emily's mouth twitched slightly as she looked down at Hotch, "I had no idea you were so conversant in feline."

It was clear that he was worried and wanted her to stay where he could see her.

His eyebrow went up, "did you think that you were the only one on the team who was bilingual?"

Seeing the look Emily was giving him, Hotch turned slightly in his chair before he tugged her down to sit in his lap. Then he slipped his arm around her waist as he tried a different approach.

Though the lap sitting alone, was a VERY different approach to anything that would have been an option before today.

"Wouldn't you agree," his eyebrow quirked up, "that it would be best for Daisy if you didn't leave her alone with me today? After all," he added drolly, "I've been told that my demeanor can be a bit intimidating at times."

Taking in deliciously rumpled morning Hotch with a cat purring on his shoulder, Emily shook her head as she responded flatly, "yeah, right now you're downright terrifying."

Seeing his lip quirk up slightly, she leaned over to give him a kiss. And when she pulled back her fingers stroked along his cheek as she said seriously, "I know that you're worried and I appreciate your concern," she gave him a sad smile, "it's very sweet. But we both know that the BAU is totally secure and I'll be completely safe at my desk."

Seeing him about to raise a counterargument she put her finger to his lips.

"Uh, uh, I'm already going to be spending half the day with you dealing with this nightmare, and I'm sure that I'll be totally fine the other half sitting without you in the bullpen."

Though she couldn't deny how touched she was that he was this concerned about her, really, she couldn't work in his office all day. So much had happened in the last twelve hours, the majority of it absolutely horrible, but this bit with him, the affection and intimacy that they were now sharing.

This was wonderful.

And if she was going to get through all of this without losing her mind, or tipping these VERY delicate scales in their power distribution, then they needed to retain some sense of normality in their interactions. So if it came down to keeping their new off duty sleeping . . . and now sitting . . . arrangements, or simply hanging out in his office working on her laptop, then of course she was going to pick the sleeping and sitting arrangements every day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Hearing the resolution in her decision, Hotch's expression softened as he looked at her.

"Emily, it's not your safety I'm concerned about. I agree, the bullpen is an impenetrable area, or at least it will be after I have Garcia recode the door sensors for Unit employees only. But," he rubbed her side as he continued softly, "it's going to be hard for you to sit out there. People are going to know what happened, they're going to be whispering about it and staring at you. It's just human nature, and unfortunately I can't ORDER the staff not to be concerned or curious about what happened. And with your emotions, uncharacteristically, so close to the surface, are you comfortable with sharing them with the office at large? Are you ready for that?"

Of course he understood her desire to keep her independence from him. He wasn't trying to take that away from her . . . he would NEVER try to take that away from her. Her strength was what had drawn him to her from the beginning.

She had been his rock for longer than she knew.

But he just wanted to make sure that she didn't make this day more upsetting for herself by inadvertently creating a situation that just added to her stress. She was so private, so quick to deflect any true inquiries into how she felt with a smile or a joke. He knew though, she wasn't up to those deflections today. Today she was grieving, stressed, and still running on very little sleep. So there was no doubt that this was going to be an emotional day for her, and if anyone else saw her crying or getting upset, that was really going to bother her.

He just wanted to protect her from this one.

Emily's eyes dropped down . . . she'd thought about those things in the shower. And yes, if she started to lose it in the bullpen that was going to suck. But at present everything sucked.

Okay . . . she felt Hotch's arm wrapped around waist . . . perhaps not everything.

But still, her life overall was one big shitstorm right now, and putting up with a few stares and whispers was the least of her issues today. Besides that, she knew there wouldn't be any malicious gossip. These people were her friends and colleagues. She really didn't have any enemies within the Unit, mostly because Hotch didn't tolerate strife or any egotistical or sexist personalities. If he didn't like you, then you didn't work there.

It was as simple as that.

So she gave him a firm nod as she patted his chest.

"I'll be okay."

Knowing from the set of her jaw that she was set in her decision, Hotch tipped his head.

"All right," he said softly, "whatever you want."

A sad smile touched Emily's lips as she leaned her forehead against his.

"It's not what I want, Hotch, it's what I have to do."

"Right," Hotch winced slightly as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, causing Daisy to jump down to the floor, "I'm sorry. I hope you don't think I was trying to coddle you. I really wasn't, I just . . ."

His gaze dropped down as he paused, then he steeled his courage and brought his eyes back up to hers.

"I didn't . . ." he took a breath, "I didn't help you before the way I should have. And I just don't want to make the same mistakes this time. I want to do it right."

She shouldn't always have to go first with these disclosures. He knew that he should try to volunteer before she thought that he was only sharing with her because he felt pressured to do so. And his guilt over how poorly he'd handled that whole situation with Matthew's death had been weighing on him for all these weeks. If he wanted this to work, if he wanted her to trust him, then he needed to be honest about where he was coming from.

For a moment Emily looked at Hotch in confusion . . . before? What was he?

Then suddenly she knew.

Matthew.

Hotch was remembering how everything went to shit at the end. And seeing the remorse and guilt on his face she wanted to tell him that it was all right, that she had never blamed him. That she'd known that he'd done the best that he could for her.

But to say all of that would not be entirely true.

Because she couldn't deny that she had been angry with him about some of his decisions. After the funeral though, she'd come to see that her anger had been unfair. Hotch hadn't created the situation. It wasn't him that had been the problem.

It had been her expectations of him.

At that point they'd been getting much closer personally. He'd started coming over for the occasional dinner and he'd been partnering them up all the time at work, so she'd started to believe that she was special.

That things had changed SO much between them, that the rules he enforced so carefully . . . so diligently . . . that he would have just thrown them all away for her.

And when he hadn't done that . . . when he wouldn't let her do what she wanted to do . . . that was when she'd gotten angry with him. It wasn't until after the funeral when she'd realized how irrationally she'd been behaving.

That he'd been absolutely right to rein her in.

Then the morning when she came back from her leave, she'd found a coffee on her desk and him watching her worriedly from his doorway. That's when she'd seen that all along he'd been watching out for her. That really, if he'd been following the rules as he did for everyone else, he never would have let her get within a mile of Matthew's murder.

So that was the moment that she'd truly forgiven him for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

Because in the end, he'd risked his whole career for her. When the wrath had come down from on high he'd taken the hit for the whole team.

One more page in his file.

But she'd been so wrapped up in her grief that she'd never acknowledged what he'd done for her. She bit her lip.

She'd never thanked him for letting her be special.

Hotch watched Emily nervously, waiting to hear what her reaction was to what he'd said. It wasn't that he'd wanted to bring up more unpleasant memories, but it also wasn't like he really thought he could bring her any further down than she already was.

Or maybe . . . he saw her giving him a funny look . . . maybe he could.

And for a second he started to feel terribly guilty that he'd somehow made this day worse. But then to his surprise . . . Emily wrapped her arms around his neck . . . and she kissed him.

Kissed him as passionately as he'd kissed her in the bedroom.

Except that she didn't stop . . . and neither did he.

And then, without breaking contact, she shifted around, hooking her other leg over his thigh as she straddled his waist. And God help him, but he couldn't stop himself from pulling her even closer, pressing her body against his as he pushed her t-shirt up.

It was bunched above the waist and he had one hand on her ass and the other hand . . . he knew that one was about to get him into trouble. His fingers were slowly sliding the waistband of her newly purchased black cotton underwear, right off her hip.

And as he sucked on her tongue Emily started to moan and Hotch began to consider that small piece of black cotton the only real barrier between him and starting the day with a quickie.

A morning quickie was an activity that he hadn't been able to engage in since WELL before the divorce. Actually probably since well before even Jack was born.

It was an activity that he had missed.

But once he realized that her hip was now completely bare, a little part of his brain . . . likely the last part still getting funneled a full supply of blood and oxygen . . . pointed out that they were about to engage in activities that he'd already ruled out. And if they had sex now, that was going to necessitate having a conversation afterwards about what was happening.

And that fear of actually being forced to fully SPILL HIS GUTS to her before he was ready, was the only thing that allowed him to pull his hand away as he broke off the kiss with a gasp.

Their gazes locked then, both of them wild eyed and panting as they tried their catch their breath.

Feeling the bulge pressing into her, Emily's chest was still heaving when she tried to explain herself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to um . . . that is, uh," she took another breath, "that was just supposed to be a kiss to thank you for everything you did for me with Matthew. I didn't mean for it to uh, uh . . ."

And she trailed off.

Then she looked away in embarrassment.

Great . . . she ground her jaw . . . now she'd just given him a hard on at seven in the morning. And their relationship was not yet to the point that she could do anything to help him resolve that issue.

Not that he was the only one that was completely worked up.

That warmth pooling deep in her belly had not gone away yet. Not to mention her nipples were chafing and there was NOTHING that she would have loved more in that moment than to rip off Hotch's clothes and do it right there on the kitchen chair!

Which was why, as she started to feel her eyes sting for the first time since she got out of the shower, she knew that she'd let things go too far. Kissing Hotch like that, it was amazing.

It wiped all of the sadness and grief and fear from her mind.

There was nothing in the world but him. Him and all of these wonderful things that he made her feel. And she'd just wanted those sensations to go on for a little longer.

And then she'd kind of lost control.

Seeing the sheen in Emily's eyes, Hotch's sexual frustration started to fade as his expression softened . . . great, something new for her to feel badly about.

So he shifted her slightly in his lap so she was back on his thigh and their lower bodies were no longer pressed together.

Then he pulled her over to his chest and wrapped her up tightly in his arms.

After a moment he felt the tension start to leave her body. Then she slipped her arms around his back as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Don't be embarrassed," he whispered as he turned to kiss her temple, "it was my fault too."

He should have stopped it before it had gone as far as it had.

Emily's eyes started to water as she murmured back, "you're a really good guy, you know that?"

Most men would have thought that she was being a tease getting him so worked up knowing that nothing could come of it.

But not him.

She initiates and HE apologizes. And that actually made her want him even more. So she knew that unless they were going to start having a lot of awkward pauses, they needed to resolve this situation in the short term.

Resolve was the wrong word though.

Resolve . . . she snuggled closer . . . that made it sound like something unpleasant. When in actuality, what was happening between them was the ONLY good thing in her whole crappy life right now. But maybe by next weekend . . . she pressed a kiss to his neck . . . they could finish what they'd almost started. By then a few more days would have passed, and she'd start to adjust to the terrible shift in her understanding of her world. Then she'd be able to say with confidence that she just wanted him for him, with nothing else mucking it up.

Because the muck was clearly affecting her actions right now.

As evidenced by the fact that barely six minutes ago she'd leaned it to give Hotch a simple thank you kiss, and had ended up straddling him on a kitchen chair while she gave him the mother of all lap dances.

So obviously it really it wasn't the right time to take any major commitment steps that couldn't be untaken.

Hotch closed his eyes as he slowly rubbed his hand down Emily's back.

Holding her was fast becoming his favorite activity, and that was even though they had been on the verge of engaging in his all time favorite activity. Fortunately though, his emotional concern for her was helping to distract him from his body's physical reaction to her.

The blood was finally starting to move back up to his brain.

But Jesus . . . he winced . . . they were only seconds away from having sex on a kitchen chair! And that would have been a COLLOSALLY stupid move on his part! Because he'd already decided last night that it was just too soon for them to have sex, and yet STILL he'd let things get out of hand.

So heneeded to NOT let his baser instincts assert control of his behavior again.

That said, he had no intention of removing this physical affection from their new parameters. Basically he just needed his hands from going under her clothes again and they should be all right.

Just then Hotch felt Emily place a soft kiss on his throat and he felt a wave of regret wash over him. Regret for all of the decisions that he'd just had to make, and for all of the things that he wasn't ready to say.

And for all the things that she wasn't ready to hear.

God . . . he let out a sigh as he placed a kiss on her temple . . . why couldn't any of this be easy?

Knowing though that the clock had begun ticking again, he patted her back. Then he said quietly.

"I made coffee, there's half & half in the fridge, and Splenda in the cabinet next to the stove. Help yourself to whatever you see," he gave her a tight squeeze just before he breathed out against her ear, "my home is your home."

For now at least. Then perhaps down the road . . . he bit his lip . . . no, it wasn't the time to torture himself with those possible futures. There was enough heartache to go around without adding that to the mix. For today he would just focus on keeping them both alive long enough to start working on the rest of it.

That was enough.

As she heard Hotch's words and felt his warm breath against her skin, Emily felt the tears hovering again. Because she was starting to accept, regardless of all the muck . . . she definitely wanted him just for him.

And as helped her shift around so they could stand up, she realized that she'd probably wanted him for a long time now. She'd just been pushing those desires away.

Last night had simply provided a catalyst for those desires to come to the surface.

Her growing feelings for him had strengthened their relationship, deepening both their professional and their personal bonds. But if she'd allowed herself to imagine him in her bed, that would have created an artificial tension to their interactions. And that would have been a terrible detriment to what had . . . and was still . . . slowly shaping up to be the most important relationship in her life. And she could see from the look in his eyes as she stared up at him, that he could likely be hers, for real, if she wanted him to be.

And feeling the hard muscles of his body as he pulled her into a gentle embrace, and rubbed her back, how could she not want him? She'd be crazy to let this new part of their relationship fall apart. So for now, she could at least cherish the fact that even with this terrible nightmare that she'd fallen into, she actually had someone again. Not just a friend or a colleague . . . but a man who was hers.

That realization would have to be enough for today.

When Emily stepped back to let Hotch go shower, he squeezed her fingers and she looked up. That's when she could see the faint worry in his eyes. So to reassure him that she was good . . . that THEY were good . . . she pulled out the brightest smile she could manage right before she said firmly, "you made coffee, so I'll make us breakfast."

"No, Emily, you don't . . ."

He tried to protest but she just shushed him with a brush of her fingers over his lips.

"I'm not very hungry either, Hotch, but like you said last night, we need keep our strength up." She gave him a pointed look, "both of us."

Since she'd walked into her apartment last night, she'd felt like a passive participant in what was happening around her. Really, after her first phone call to Hotch, he had been the one making most of the conscious decisions about what they should do, while she'd just been reacting to everything around her.

But it was time that she started take some control back.

Not that Hotch had been controlling, he'd just been looking after her. But it was time for her to start looking after herself again.

And him too for that matter.

Both of them were bad about eating properly. So often it was two skipped meals, a half a pot of coffee each, and then some kind of greasy take out at the end of the day. That was part of the reason she'd started inviting him over to eat dinner with her. Okay . . . she felt his warm hands holding her cold fingers . . . that wasn't really the reason.

But it was a secondary reason.

Looking back all those months, she could see that it had subconsciously been a first step she'd taken in trying to shift the parameters of their relationship. She'd been adding a degree of domesticity to their routine. And this is where that one invitation had brought them.

What a day to give thanks.

Hotch gave Emily an appraising look, before he finally gave her a slow nod.

"Right, you're right, we do need to eat," then he gave her fingers a faint squeeze, "but don't go to too much trouble, okay?"

"I won't," she gave him a sad smile, "it's just that given what's coming up, I know I won't have any appetite at all later, so better to get something in me now while I can eat."

Hotch said nothing in response to that . . . there was nothing to say. He just tipped his head down to give her one last . . . gentle . . . kiss, before he reluctantly let go of her hands.

Time to shower.

Emily watched as Hotch turned and walked out of the kitchen. Once he'd disappeared into the living room, she turned around and stared over at first the cupboards, then the fridge, trying to decide what would sit best in her anxiety ridden stomach. She bit her lip.

Maybe French toast.

/*/*/*/

"Do I look all right?"

Emily was standing in the living room eyeing her day old outfit warily. Granted, she didn't generally send a suit directly to the cleaners after one outing, but she wasn't accustomed to wearing the EXACT same clothes two days in a row.

Hotch was just sliding his Glock into his holster when Emily asked her question, and he looked up to see her nervously brushing her hand over the front of her suit.

His brow wrinkled slightly as he gave her a little smile, "of course."

Though he understood that she was nervous, she was currently wearing her standard black suit and one of the new shirts she'd bought last night.

She looked just as professional as she always did.

Though as he snuck another look at her now fixing her belt, he took note that the shade of blue she was wearing was exceptionally flattering.

She looked really pretty.

And as that thought came to him, he suddenly remembered the last thing that he didn't say to Kelly. So he ended up blurting the words out to Emily while they were fresh in his head.

"You look really pretty in blue."

Hearing the nervousness behind Hotch's words, Emily felt a spot of warmth in her chest begin to glow . . . she was definitely falling down the rabbit hole.

So she reached over to squeeze his fingers as she gave him a soft, "thank you."

Hotch looked at her for another moment before he brushed a strand of hair back behind her ears.

"I like your bangs too."

That was something that he'd wanted to tell her for months. That he liked her new haircut. But she'd gotten it cut before they'd even started occasionally having dinner together. And back then, back when he'd had all of his walls up with her, he'd been afraid that if he'd made any comment on her appearance that it would been so out of character, that she'd have thought him strange.

Then he'd lost his window to say anything.

It was liberating though, telling her these things now. Not being worried about appearances or propriety. Even though by MOST people's standards, these were very minor social exchanges, for him they really were a completely different approach to his previous exchanges with her. Of course he had uttered more than his share of platitudes in social interactions over the past forty plus years, but the only person he could recall ever being spontaneously open with was Haley.

Now he was trying to be that way with Emily.

Emily slipped her arms around Hotch's waist and leaned against his body. And as he wrapped her up in his arms again, she sighed against his chest.

"Thank you."

This was it, the last time they'd be able to do this all day. In another minute they were going to walk out the door and the kaleidoscope would shift back to the other version of their lives.

The On Duty, Professionally Distant, Somebody Was Trying To Kill Them, version.

She felt a wave of bitterness rise up . . . really just another fucking day in the neighborhood.

Feeling the sudden tension in Emily's body, Hotch rubbed her back as he asked cautiously.

"Are you ready to do this?"

Her jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I, I . . ." she tipped her head back to look at him, "I just suddenly felt," she swallowed before spitting out through clenched teeth, "so fucking . . . ANGRY!"

The last word came out sharply enough to make both of them flinch. And with Emily trying to get her temper back under control, she bit her lip and her eyes drop down to the carpet.

Then she started taking deep breaths.

Because she didn't need this now. What she needed was to keep everything locked up, or else it would all get away from her.

Really she just needed her boxes again!

Hotch's expression softened as he brushed the back of his hand along her cheek.

"Just go with the anger, Emily. It'll help get you through the day."

That was how he got through half of his life, just being pissed off at the world.

But . . . he felt a stab of regret as he looked at her trying so hard to get her emotions under control . . . that wasn't her way. She locked them up into separate compartments.

She didn't allow one emotion to rule her.

And watching her take her slow, even, breaths, it was obvious to him that was how she would prefer to deal with things today too.

His finger ghosted along her jaw, and when she looked up at him he gave her a sad smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispered apologetically, "that wasn't good advice. Because that's how I deal with things, and I don't, I don't . . ." his eyes shifted away from hers for a moment before his voice faded, "well, I don't want you to be like me."

His eyes were slightly moist as looked back at her, "I want you to be you," then he touched her cheek as he whispered, "I wouldn't change you for anything."

The last thing he wanted was for her to follow his example. To make her into the horrible shell that he had become. Unhappy, morose, discovering that simply attempting to make a connection with a woman, was a Herculean task. And then being utterly terrified, that by having made that small connection with her now, he would accidently do or say something to drive her away.

If that happened, he honestly didn't know if he was capable of trying again.

A wave of warmth rolled over Emily, washing away the bitterness and the anger.

She leaned up and wrapped her arms around Hotch's neck. And when he straightened up, he kept her close as he hugged her tightly, lifting her slightly off the ground.

Even if she'd wanted to, Emily knew that it would have been impossible to maintain that righteous anger being wrapped up in his arms like this. So she decided that this was what she'd rather focus on. Not the hate.

But the love.

Whether it was capital L love yet, she hadn't decided. But it was love. That was the wave that had washed over her. That was what she felt when he whispered in her ear and held her close.

And that was going to be what got her through the day.

Knowing that she had him in her corner, that even if they had to maintain their distance at the office, she could come back to his apartment with him and she could cuddle up in his lap and be safe and warm . . . and loved.

Big L or little didn't matter at all.

And as he nuzzled her ear and whispered that she was always stronger than him, her eyes began to sting as she started to wonder if she could have had this before. If there might have been a way to breach his walls before the horrors of last night.

If they'd maybe just spent months of their lives wasting time they didn't really have.

The thought of it made her heart ache.

So she bit down hard on her lip and turned her head to breath in his scent. As she felt it fill her senses, soothing her, that's when she realized that she couldn't focus on the what ifs. The what ifs with Lipsky, or the what ifs with Hotch.

None of them mattered.

She'd made the decisions that she'd made. And they had all brought her to this moment with him. Everything now was about moving forward.

Together.

Hotch hated to let Emily go, hated to put her down . . . hated that that they had to start this awful day.

But it was time.

So he slowly lowered her back to the carpet and tipped his head down to place a kiss on top of her head. Then he leaned back slightly to look at her.

His lip quirked up.

"Let's go find Daisy."

A/N 2: As this one was coming together it was clear that by separating them to get ready for work, they both were going to have time to think. And they couldn't go from what was happening in the bedroom to just moving on to the rest of the day like none of the other stuff they had been feeling lying in bed together, mattered. They needed to deal with that. And deal with it, post coffee, post shower, wide awake, walking around making real decisions about their lives way. Not, just woke up, cuddled together, kind of way. I wanted them to have some even keel to move onto the rest of it.

Also, in my continuing efforts to find a fresh reinterpretation to their relationship, clearly their physical attraction here is coming to a boil a bit faster than perhaps in other worlds. Unlike Second Chances where sex was a bond before the emotional attachment, here they have the emotional attachment already. And it's something that they're just approaching with an adult mindset in that things have been simmering between them, and this event has pushed them to the point that the act would provide comfort, but they both know it's not the time. And this is not going to become an M story but yes, I will let them have sex soon :)

Taking a point from canon as to Big L and Little L love, I think that it would be safe to say, regardless of your chosen ship, that if any of them were really putting themselves out there to offer comfort to someone else on the team, that the Little L would be there without question. It would be there from canon and their attachments to one another. And I didn't want them to suddenly be, "oh my God I love you! OMG I HEART YOU TOO!" here :) It's a big deal coming to that decision if this is your person that you could happily spend years of your life waking up with everyday. So the real depth of their feelings for each other is something that they both need to work through before they can admit it to themselves, let alone each other.

Also with the back and forth of Hotch trying to be more open, and then realizing that something he told her . . . with the best of intentions . . . was actually really bad advice, was important too. He's still trying to find his way here and he needs to stumble a bit before he gets it right. I also don't see Hotch as a 'casual compliment' guy. Dave and Derek, yes. Perhaps even Reid to a lesser extent, but not Hotch. For him to start opening his mouth and saying what he thinks to a woman about how she looks or what she's wearing, that would be the shift for him moving into 'relationship' mode, whereas Morgan and Rossi could freely have these conversations with women they met on the elevator.

We will be getting back to the more "suspenseful" plot points in the next chapter. Them leaving the house seemed a good point to break though. So hopefully you all got your fill of the cuddling and making out because it's going to be a little hard to work that into the bullpen scenes :)