Author's Note: So after this one, it's a downhill slide because basically the next one is the end :)

Prompt Set #17

Show: The Jeffersons

Title Challenge: Silver Lining

The Remains of the Day

Hotch fidgeted uncomfortably in the waiting room chair.

He was staring up at the clock on the far wall, getting more and more agitated as he watched late afternoon tick slowly into early evening.

It had been six hours and forty-three minutes since they'd begun his mother's surgery.

The surgery was only supposed to take six hours. That was six hours if everything went "according to plan."

But of course . . . he felt his carefully held control begin to slip . . . everything was NOT going according to plan! And he knew that because they were forty-three minutes PASSED the point where everything was going according to the FUCKING PLAN!

All right Aaron . . . he took a breath . . . CALM down. Getting yourself worked up isn't going to make them finish any faster!

He leaned forward and scrubbed his hands down his face . . . shit.

A second later he felt Emily's fingers running through his hair. He knew it was Emily because he'd smelled her perfume as she walked up.

Emily stooped down to whisper in Hotch's ear, "I only left you alone for four minutes. You weren't supposed to freak out in four minutes."

But of course she should have known that he would. Biological imperatives were biological imperatives though, and she'd waited as long as she could before she ran to the bathroom.

It was the first time that they'd been apart for even a minute since they'd met by the elevator that morning.

They'd slept for almost two hours in the on-call room and then they'd pulled on their boots and checked in with Sean again. The news was that there was no news, so they went down to grab fresh coffee for everyone from the cafeteria before they settled into the waiting room for the rest of the afternoon.

That was almost three hours ago, and Hotch had been getting more and more anxious as the hands on the clock had spun around and around. Emily knew that in his mind a six hour surgery should wrap up in exactly six hours, and if it went over six hours that meant something horrible had happened.

Yes . . . her expression softened as Hotch lifted his head to look at her . . . granted, the nurse had come out forty-five minutes ago to say that there had been a 'slight' complication. But to Emily's thinking, slight meant small. And though there was no such thing as a "good" complication, not all complications had horrific consequences either.

Some were just minor setbacks.

But trying to convince Hotch of that was an uphill battle.

Though of course he wouldn't flat out admit to her that he was terrified, the waves of tension pouring off of him were palpable. And God what she wouldn't do to take him for a walk somewhere private if only to burn off a little of that nervous energy. But they absolutely could not leave the floor right now.

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before she sat down next to him.

They couldn't even leave the room right now. Provided slight complications didn't turn into major ones, the surgeon should hopefully be out at any time now to give them an update.

And God help them all if Hotch wasn't right here when that happened.

But . . . she slipped her arm through his before leaning over to place her head on his shoulder . . . otherwise, if not for their 'travel' restrictions at the moment, she would have definitely taken him somewhere more private and found some way to distract him from his worries. She didn't want their first time to be an awkward fumbling in a hospital room supply closet, but she was sure that she could have found something else for them to do.

Kissing would have worked . . . she thought back to their impromptu make-out on the elevator . . . yes, kissing would have worked just fine. In here though . . . he turned to press his lips to her temple . . . their personal affection was limited by the crowd around them.

A crowd which included Sean and his family sitting a few seats away from them.

They'd moved down to the corner so Gabby could take a nap on the couch. She was still sleeping, but Emily could see Ileana was looking over worriedly at Hotch, so Emily gave her a little smile as she patted his chest.

She was trying to tell the other woman that he was fine, that she had it under control.

And given the relieved smile Ileana gave her in return, Emily was pretty sure . . . though it was complete bullshit . . . Hotch was FAR from fine . . . she fell for it.

Good . . . her eyes shifted elsewhere in the room . . . Hotch's sister-in-law was sweet and she obviously meant well, but Emily knew that Hotch would not appreciate being hovered over. So she needed to keep Ileana away from him.

That was also why Emily, though worried sick about him, was going out of her way to NOT to ask him every five minutes if he needed anything, or how he was feeling, or if he wanted to talk.

He'd HATE that.

So she was just . . . there. Just sitting with him, holding his hand and making sure that he knew he wasn't alone. That was all he really needed right now. Not that she hadn't asked him if he wanted some tea, (he'd had enough coffee for the day), or a cold drink. Of course she had done those things too.

But she'd restricted those inquiries to no less than sixty minute intervals.

All in all . . . and all horribly crappy circumstances considered . . . Emily was pretty sure she was doing okay on her first day in this new role in Hotch's life.

And then Hotch leaned over and Emily felt his warm breath tickling her ear.

"I missed you," he whispered right before he pressed a kiss to her skin. Her eyes started to burn.

She was gone for five minutes and he missed her. Okay, yeah, she definitely seemed to be doing all right today.

Hotch pulled back slightly and leaned his head down to rest against Emily's.

Honest to God he wasn't sure what he would be doing without her right now. Quite possibly out on a ledge somewhere. Or at the very least in need of some sort of cardiac treatment.

Yes, cardiac treatment was likely.

Because Emily's presence was the only thing keeping his blood pressure from tipping the charts. When she'd left him alone, he was once again free to go absolutely nuts with all of his horrible worst case scenario panicking. But then she came back into the waiting room, and he actually felt his body physiologically respond to her presence. Like a drug.

Valium but in a much prettier package.

So he tried to close out the rest of the world and just focus in on her presence at his side. She was rubbing circles on his chest . . . over his heart . . . and they were actually quite soothing. So he concentrated on that rather than all of his fears and worries about his mother and the decisions he was going to have to make if this surgery wasn't successful.

And for a little while it worked. Another thirteen minutes to be precise.

But then they moved into the seventh hour, and that's when he saw his mother's surgeon walk into the waiting room.

He looked grim.

Although Emily didn't recognize the scrubs clad doctor who had entered the waiting room . . . nurses had been giving the updates since she'd been there . . . she did of course recognize the sudden tension in Hotch's body to mean that this was his mom's surgeon. So she lifted her head from his shoulder, sliding her hand down to grab his fingers as they stood up.

And as Ileana and Sean walked over to join them, Emily sent up another little prayer . . . she'd done as much praying this afternoon as she'd done in the last five years . . . that this would be good news.

/*/*/*/

Sean pulled into the driveway just after eight-thirty and Ileana finally let out the breath she'd been holding for the past thirty miles.

Thank God they had arrived home without an accident.

The storm had raged throughout the day, leaving another eight inches of snow on top of the ten that were already on the ground. Now the white powder was dwindling down just to flurries, but the roads . . . though plowed repeatedly . . . were quite treacherous.

But of course that was mostly because the wind was picking up and everything was freezing over.

The drive had taken more than double the normal time but Ileana still thought it was worth it to get out of the city.

After they got the news on Mother Hotchner . . . the surgery had not gone as well as they had hoped it would . . . Aaron had been adamant about staying overnight at the hospital. But fortunately Emily had taken him aside and somehow persuaded him that there was nothing more he could do there and that it would be best to get some rest at home and then go in early the next day.

Ileana had been incredibly grateful for her interceding with him.

Because she knew that if Aaron had stayed, then Sean would have stayed too. And she was sure that they both needed proper sleep in real beds.

That hospital was a terribly depressing place. It would do neither of them any good . . . mentally or physically . . . to sleep there overnight. Mother Hotchner was still in the recovery unit anyway. The boys . . . Ileana unlocked the back door . . . they had only been given two minutes to see her before they left. And they wouldn't be allowed in to see her again until morning regardless of where they slept, so it really was best that they all came home.

As the group of five, with Gabby sleeping in her father's arms, stepped into the mudroom, jackets were immediately unzipped and hung with their accompanying scarves on the hooks by the back door.

Hats, gloves, and mittens were placed on the radiator.

After their clothes were hung to dry, snow was stomped on the thick brown rug leading up to the kitchen. Though stomping removed the worst of the mess, before anyone went into the house proper, everyone stopped to remove their still wet boots.

They had had much snow that winter and these steps had been nearly a daily ritual since the first big storm after Thanksgiving. The constant snow reminded Ileana of living back in her parents' house in the Alps.

It had made her homesick.

Ileana paused as she pulled off her daughter's small pink boot, her expression softening when she saw Aaron helping his Emily with a knot in her laces.

He was most definitely in love.

After everyone had removed their winter wear, Ileana led them into the kitchen. For a moment there was silence and then she rubbed her hands together and asked softly, "is anyone hungry?"

Even if they were not, they should eat regardless. On top of everything else, it would not do to risk anyone getting sick.

In response to Ileana's question, the men both remained silent . . . they were clearly distracted. So after a quick glance over to see Hotch staring at the marble countertop, Emily gave his sister-in-law a little smile.

"Do you have any soup?"

That would be light and quick and Hotch definitely needed to eat something.

At Ileana's nod, and enthusiastic, "yes of course," Hotch lifted his head and started to protest, "I'm not . . ."

But Emily cut him off with just a touch.

As her hand rubbed his back, his voice faltered and she finished her thought quietly, "soup would be good."

She knew how he was, and she knew that he wasn't going to take care of himself. And if he wasn't going to take care of himself, then she'd do it for him. After all, that was precisely why she had flown up to New York in the middle of a snowstorm.

To look after him.

Ileana's eyes flickered anxiously back and forth between the other couple, and then over to her husband holding their sleeping daughter. He was staring down at the floor.

The women were now in charge.

So she looked back and nodded firmly at Aaron's girlfriend.

"There is soup in the freezer. I will heat it up."

It was nice to have someone here to help her with them. For days now she'd been struggling to look after both of them, when they were both so closed off from their feelings.

With Sean at least she had ways of reaching him.

But poor Aaron, always so serious and . . . with the exception of his obvious affection for the woman at his side . . . it was usually nearly impossible to figure out what was going on in his brain. But this woman clearly understood him, and she clearly knew how to handle him.

Really . . . she watched as Emily slipped her arm around his waist . . . it was probably more that he allowed this woman to handle him.

Emily nodded as she leaned into Hotch's side.

"Great, thanks. I'll come back to help you in a little bit. I just want to change out of these clothes that I've been wearing them since four am."

At that pronouncement Hotch looked down at her.

"You can change in my room."

Or perhaps it was their room. There had been no discussion of sleeping arrangements, but after what had happened at the hospital most likely it was their room. His heart started to ache thinking about having to sleep alone that night.

God he hoped it was their room.

Emily's eyes crinkled faintly as she looked up at Hotch.

"Okay, thanks."

Although getting out of her traveling clothes was her primary goal, Emily was also relieved to get some guidance on the sleeping arrangements. It seemed unlikely that Sean and Ileana would have preferred her to sleep in a different room than Hotch, but she didn't really know their feelings on such things. And it was their house.

She'd have to abide by their wishes.

But Ileana hadn't countered Hotch's offer with suggesting he show her to another spare room, so it seemed like they were good to go on the space sharing front.

Provided he wanted her of course, but she wasn't too worried about that.

Hotch shifted Emily's bag back on his shoulder.

Now that they were home, exhaustion was settling over him. Of course he knew a large part of that was stress, but regardless, all he wanted to do was go lie down.

Preferably with Emily.

Emily glanced over to Hotch . . . saw the expression on his face . . . and quickly looked back to Ileana.

"You're all set here, right? Did you need my help with anything before I go?"

'Please say no,' Emily she added in her head as she ran her thumb along Hotch's belt buckle. She knew his stress levels were nearing saturation point, and now she just wanted some time alone with him to help him relax.

All of those activities that were off limits in the waiting room were now on the agenda again.

Ileana quickly shook her head as she shooed them towards the door.

"Oh no, I am fine. You go rest. Dinner will be in three quarters of an hour."

Aaron's friend looked exhausted, and it would also be good for his soul to have a few minutes alone with her. Actually . . . she subtly eyed the way the other woman was touching him . . . maybe it would be better if they pushed dinner off for a full hour.

After Emily pushed Aaron out the door with a grateful smile to Ileana, Ileana turned her attention to her husband and child.

"Liebchen," she said softly as she went over to kiss Sean's cheek, "why don't you put the baby down to sleep. I need to get the soup out the freezer, but I'll come find you in a minute."

Sean looked at his wife and then down to his daughter before he nodded slowly, "right, okay." So Ileana stooped down to kiss Gabby's forehead and then patted his arm.

"I will be along in a minute."

Ileana watched as her husband gave her a pained smile before he turned and left the room.

For a moment Ileana stared through the empty doorway. Then she shook her head as she turned to the freezer to pull out the container of tomato and gorgonzola soup she had made the week before.

The sooner she started defrosting the soup, the sooner she could go check on her husband.

/*/*/*/

Hotch tucked Emily tightly against his side as he led her through the living room, down the back hallway, passed the downstairs bathroom and into the guest room at the back of the house.

It was a two story colonial, but rather than putting the home office on the first floor . . . the more common layout . . . Sean and Ileana had put it on the second floor and made the extra room downstairs into a spare bedroom.

Hotch had no idea what the official reasoning was behind this choice, but if he had to guess he'd say it was because his brother not so secretly hated his mother-in-law and wanted her as far away as possible when she came over for one of her twice annual, month long, visits.

Whatever it was, he was just grateful for the bit of extra privacy it had afforded him. It was an adjustment living with other people again.

Just as they stepped over the threshold, Hotch paused as he slipped Emily's bag off his shoulder.

"Uh, I'll just let you change."

And he started to step back out.

He was unsure of how far Emily wanted to go tonight so he was trying to let her set the tone for their level of intimacy. But then to his relief, she caught his hand and gave him a soft smile.

"You don't have to leave, Aaron."

Silly man. Didn't he know that she was planning on having sex with him within the next two to three hours? So obviously he could stay while she changed her clothes!

At her response, one corner of Hotch's mouth quirked up, "okay."

Well . . . he carried her bag over to the dresser . . . that answered one question. And seeing Emily begin to dig into her duffel, he went back to lock the door.

Though at this point his niece should sleep through the night, he knew that if Gabby awoke she would come running into his room unannounced, as she had done each day he had been there. So with that one task done, he walked over and flopped down onto the patchwork quilt covering the bed.

Then he looked on unabashedly while Emily wriggled out of her jeans, and pulled off her turtleneck sweater.

As he'd always suspected, the woman had been hiding a fabulous body under those conservative dark suits. And he was more than a little disappointed when she immediately covered that body up again, by yanking on a plain t-shirt and a pair of black and white striped pajama pants. Well, it was a nice view while it had lasted.

Really . . . he thought sadly . . . it was a nice distraction from his life.

Emily turned around to Hotch openly gazing at her and her eyes crinkled slightly as she felt a spot of warmth on her cheeks.

Though it had been her idea for him to stay, she couldn't recall the last time a man looked at her the way that he was.

Like she was the only woman in the world.

"Hey," she said with a hint of unintended shyness.

Seeing the touch of pink on Emily's cheeks, Hotch's expression softened as he responded quietly, "hey yourself."

Then he put his hand out and she walked over to climb up onto the bed with him.

After Emily had curled up at his side, Hotch rubbed his hand down her arm.

"How long can you stay?" He whispered.

It might seem an odd question given that he was her boss, but he didn't want to be presumptuous about her time.

Emily sighed against his chest.

"Well, I have six weeks of annual leave saved up, so basically I can stay as long as you need me," She tipped her head slightly, "well, provided Dave doesn't call with a case, of course."

And she was really praying that things would stay quiet for at least another week. Because clearly, even if this last surgery ended up . . . against the odds . . . being successful, Hotch wouldn't be able to leave his mother until she was well enough to be transferred to a regular room. So best case, that would definitely take his visit here well into next week. And now that Emily had seen what he was going through by himself, ideally she'd like to stay with him for the duration of his time here.

Though honestly, she wasn't sure if he could stand to be away much longer than another week anyway. Because really, how long could he could he stand not seeing his son?

That had to be killing him.

Speaking of . . . her eyes shifted over to the alarm clock.

"Hotch, you know, it's almost 9:00. Do you want to try calling Jack?"

Hotch's eyes popped open, "oh shit," he started fumbling in his pocket for his phone, "thank you for reminding me."

Not that he would have forgotten completely . . . he smacked his thumb down on Haley's number . . . but for just a moment he had drifted off to a world where Emily could be with him twenty-four hours a day for six weeks.

It was a wonderful world.

Emily closed her eyes and listened to Hotch talking first to Haley (things sounded much more amicable than the last time she'd been privy to one of their conversations) and then to his little boy. The daddy version of Hotch was so sweet, and soft, so different from work Hotch.

Actually she almost couldn't reconcile that this Hotch who was discussing new rubber duckies and Mr. Bubble, bubble baths, could exist in the same world as the one who discussed wound patterns and blood splatter.

The dichotomy between the two was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Though she knew him probably better than anyone, she had no idea how much of his true self he really had closed off just to be able to do their work. And when he hung up his call . . . eight minutes after it began . . . Emily pushed herself up to give him a kiss.

After she'd pulled away, Hotch brushed his fingers through her hair as he whispered, "what was that for?"

Her eyes crinkled.

"Just for being you," she answered with a slightly watery smile, "because you sir," she shook off her melancholy as she climbed into his lap, "are my favorite person in the whole wide world."

Then she leaned down to kiss him again, and as his hands encircled her waist, she slipped her tongue into his mouth and began fumbling with the zipper on his fleece.

After the epiphany that she'd just come to, not to mention everything that had happened that week, with all of her stupid insecurities tossing her on an emotional rollercoaster . . . she started pushing his jacket off his shoulders . . . Emily had decided that she really didn't want to wait any longer.

It was time.

As Emily started undressing him, Hotch pulled back to get a breath of air.

"You know," he sucked in a breath, "we don't have very much time before dinner?"

Though he had hoped that this would happen tonight, a quickie with his brother and sister-in-law down the hall wasn't a very romantic first time. But then Emily yanked her t-shirt over her head and she gave him a soft smile.

"Time enough."

She'd missed him and she was sure now . . . she did love him. Whether or not his feelings had reached the same depth that hers had, she didn't know. She thought maybe they had. But regardless, it was obvious from the things that he'd said since she arrived, and how affectionate he'd been with her today, that he wanted to try to build something real, and long term.

But beyond that . . . his thumb began to rub a gentle circle on her stomach . . . he'd had a horribly stressful week and this would make him feel better.

It was a win/win really.

Hotch's lips twitched slightly as his gaze traveled along the expanse of creamy skin, with the small circles of white lace covering her lovely breasts. Then he looked up at Emily with a little smile.

"Well, you've certainly made a solid argument for your position."

Seeing Emily's eyebrow rise in amusement, Hotch rolled her beneath him. And as he slid the first white strap from her shoulder and began kissing his way down to her first perfect breast, he murmured against her skin.

"Do you have any more of that Strawberry Chapstick?"

/*/*/*/

They were a little late for dinner . . . a little late for VERY good reason as far as Emily was concerned . . . but neither Sean nor Ileana commented on their tardiness. They just suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway thirty seconds after Hotch had handed her a glass of water.

And as Ileana directed them into the breakfast nook off the kitchen, Emily was slightly dismayed to see that not only had the other woman heated up what appeared to be homemade tomato soup, but she'd also made a full stack of grilled cheese sandwiches.

Not that Emily didn't think that the men especially should be eating something more substantive than a bowl of . . . admittedly delicious smelling . . . bisque, but she just felt guilty that there had been an actual meal preparation and she hadn't helped.

But when she opened her mouth to apologize for not helping, she realized that if she brought attention to her absence, that would lead to an awkward pause as to WHY she hadn't come straight back down from Hotch's room after she'd changed. And though she was pretty sure that it was QUITE apparent what they'd been doing for the last forty-five minutes . . . there had been no time for a shower, so her hair was a bit of a mess . . . Emily REALLY didn't wish to have that discussion at the dinner table, with Hotch's extended family.

So instead she just smiled at Ileana and complimented the food.

"Oh this looks great Ileana, thank you for pulling it together."

To which Hotch immediately added while he was pulling out Emily's chair.

"Yes, it smells delicious."

Hotch had discovered these past few nights when she'd force fed him a proper evening meal, that his sister-in-law was a very good cook. And after recent activities he was quite famished.

Famished, exhausted, but also . . . his hand ghosted over Emily's back as she sat down . . . happy.

Well . . . he pulled out his own chair . . . as happy as he could be with everything that was still hanging over him. But thanks to Emily's EXCELLENT choice of pre-dinner activities, he was at least feeling much less stressed than he had been when they first got home.

And though his own stomach was rumbling, Hotch did remember his manners and made sure to serve Emily two wedges off the pile of pre-cut cheese sandwiches, before he grabbed four for himself.

Ladies first . . . a faint smile touched his lips as he thought back to their time in the bedroom . . . always.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sean watched his brother across the table.

Ten minutes ago he had gone down to collect the two of them for dinner, put his ear to the door for three seconds, turned around and walked away.

There had been no way in hell that he was going to interrupt them having sex! The last time he'd done that to Aaron and a girl, was when he was thirteen and Aaron was home from college on break.

His brother had almost thrown him out the window.

But he had to admit . . . even with the news they got tonight . . . Aaron looked much better than he had all week. Not good, but certainly better than he had the last few days.

Apparently getting laid was exactly what he had needed.

Sean's gaze shifted over to see Emily picking up a napkin to wipe off Aaron's polo shirt.

He'd just sprinkled a few crumbs from his sandwich onto the navy cloth.

Or perhaps . . . he watched as Aaron giving her an indulgent smile when she brushed away the non-existent mess . . . it was just this woman that he had needed.

Either way . . . Sean took a bite of his sandwich . . . one thing was clear.

Emily was definitely poised to become a permanent fixture in the family.

*/*/*/

Dinner overall was a subdued affair. Though Emily thought Hotch seemed a little less grim since the 'relationship christening,' she knew that he was still carrying a heavy heart tonight.

There were decisions to be made.

So the men were quiet and the women filled the silence with discussions about the weather forecast . . . more bitterly cold temperatures . . . and making sure their respective charges were properly fed.

Though Emily was not the 'little woman' type, (she couldn't speak to Ileana), but either way, the men were obviously in need of some TLC, so a little fussing and waiting on was in order.

It was a new role for Emily but she embraced it fully.

She knew the brothers needed to talk though. It wasn't fair that this decision about their mother was falling completely to Hotch. Though Emily understood that Sean was younger and looked to his brother for guidance . . . the man was also thirty-five years old. So clearly "old enough" to take an active role in the decision making process. Because deciding whether or to remove their mother's life support was much too great of a burden to place on Hotch's shoulders alone.

He carried too many burdens as it was.

And if he didn't start sharing the load with other people, then he was going to drive himself to an early grave. And now that she had some say in the matter, Hotch stroking out or having a heart attack, was definitely NOT something that Emily was going to allow to happen.

So when the two couples stood up to begin clearing the table, she quickly pulled Hotch into the corner to whisper in his ear.

"Why don't you and Sean go talk in the living room? I'll help Ileana with the dishes."

Hotch looked down at Emily, about to shake his head, no, that he knew that Sean wanted no part of this decision. But then she preempted his response with a head shake of her own.

"Aaron," she whispered, "I know that you want to protect him, but honey, he's a grown man. And it's his mother too." Then she ran her fingers along his jaw as she continued sadly, "beyond that though, this is not a decision that you should have to make by yourself," she shook her head slowly, "it's just too much of him to ask of you."

Though she knew that she could possibly be well overstepping her bounds . . . this was his family's VERY personal business . . . she just couldn't stand by and say nothing. Her concerns here were for Hotch, and what this was going to do to him if he alone had to decide to remove his mother's life support.

The doctors would be able to tell them tomorrow if there was any hope of her recovering. And if there wasn't, then they would have to be prepared to either let her go, or put her into a facility.

They needed to have an answer to that question before the moment arrived.

Hotch's gaze shifted away from Emily's for a moment while he considered her words. Finally he looked back, his eyes starting to sting as he slowly nodded.

As much as he wanted to shield Sean from this, Emily was right, it was a decision that they should make together. If for no other reason than it would kill Hotch if his brother ended up hating him for making . . . what was to Sean's mind . . . the wrong decision.

Though really . . . when the moment arrived . . . it was going to come down to picking from all bad choices.

Seeing the sadness on Hotch's face, Emily leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

"I'll wait up," she whispered with a pat to his cheek.

Hotch looked down at her, his eyes burning as he bit his lip. And then he blinked twice, cleared his throat, and leaned around the corner to call into the kitchen.

"Sean, do you have a minute?"

A/N 2: Winding to the end here, just one more chapter plus a shorter epilogue.

I have to say, I do like writing for Ileana and Sean. They have very distinct voices in my head from any of the other characters. Ileana especially is fun (in the same way that Em's dad is) in that she's totally mine and yet still I can hear her talking just as clearly as I can Emily in PB's voice. If I do a follow up in this world, one shot or whatever, I definitely would include this branch of Hotch's family again.