A/N: Thanks to Lakersgirls91 for the review! Trust me, the slow burn will continue. :)

Chapter 40: Reflection of Desire

Hotch furrowed his brow as he stared at his cards. He could win this. He could do the impossible and actually beat Emily Prentiss at poker. He just had to figure out if this was the hand to do it.

He studied her face: steely eyes, pursed lips… when her mouth opened and her tongue ran over her lips, he had his first clue.

"I see your bet," she said, throwing two pretzels into the pile, "And I raise you two more."

Hotch kept an eye on Emily's face as she glanced back and forth between her cards and the pile of pretzels, and when she let out a subtle puff of air, he bit his lip. That was it… that was her tell… he had her!

He pushed his entire pile of pretzels into the middle of the table and offered a coy smile, "All in."

Emily's jaw dropped, and she looked at her cards, then down to the rapidly depleting kitty of pretzels she still had. Even if she didn't call, she wouldn't have enough to last very long on the next hand. So the question was, better to die a quick death, or a slow one.

She shook her head and pushed her kitty into the middle, "Call," she said softly, knowing she'd lost before Hotch even dropped his cards on the table.

Emily groaned when she saw the cards… full house, kings over nines… Hotch hadn't just won. He'd kicked her ass.

"Care to share your hand?" Hotch asked, unsure if Emily would want to, and he was surprised when she flipped her cards.

"Baby straight," she said, almost in a whisper. She pushed the pile of pretzels towards Hotch and laughed as he picked one up and popped it straight in his mouth.

"Any other games you'd like me to kick your ass at tonight?" Hotch teased, resulting in a chuckle from Emily as she moved around the table to sit next to him, leaning back against the couch and switching on the TV. They could just as easily have moved up onto the couch, but there was something playful about sitting on the floor, eating pretzels and throwing jabs back and forth. Hotch always enjoyed his banter with Emily, and tonight was no exception.

"When did you become so cocky, sir?" she remarked, swatting his arm gently with one hand as she stole a pretzel with the other, "This is a side I've never seen before, and I'm not sure if I like it."

Hotch poked her in the side and grinned, "Now, now Emily," he replied, reaching up to rest his arm behind her on the couch cushion, "Anyone would think you're a sore loser."

Emily bit her lip and glanced at Hotch out of the corner of her eye. This banter was getting dangerously close to actual flirting, and if she didn't get her heart rate under control, she might do something stupid.

Like jump his bones and apologise later.

Getting her breathing under control, Emily stared intently at the television, flicking through the channels to find something they could watch that was safe, and wouldn't lead to any uncomfortable conversations. She settled on the home improvement channel. Nothing said "calm down" to a libido like a man in tight pants using a jackhammer.

"Why are we watching this?" Hotch asked, biting down on another pretzel and reaching over to grab the remote. Ignoring Emily's look, he flicked through the channels until he found a movie that was just about to start, "This looks good… If you want to stay for a while?"

Emily looked over at Hotch and nodded, "I could stay for a movie," she replied softly.

Hotch nodded and jumped up from the floor to hit the overhead lights, leaving on the lamp in the corner. Before he came back to the living room, he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and switched off the lights in the kitchen and dining areas, dropping onto the floor next to Emily just as the movie started.

By the time the Jake Gyllenhaal was embracing Tobey Maguire outside the prison, Emily was tucked into Hotch's side, sipping her beer and wondering if there was anywhere else she'd rather be right now.

"Daddy?"

Hotch and Emily sat up straight as Jack rounded the corner and walked into the living room. When his head appeared around the side of the couch, he stumbled over to Emily and climbed into her lap.

With his head against Emily's chest, Jack sighed, "I had a scary dream," he whispered softly, while Emily ran her fingers through his hair, "Can you come and check for monsters?"

Emily looked over at Hotch, her lips pursed in an attempt to holster a smile. Hotch shook his head and huffed, running his hand down Jack's back.

"Why do you think there are monsters, buddy?" Hotch asked, hoping this wouldn't be another night where Jack insisted on sleeping in the big bed. Not that Hotch was expecting any other guests in his bedroom tonight, but he'd really like to break the habit before it became an issue.

"Because I heared a noise," Jack replied softly, scrunching his hand in Emily's sweater, "But Emily is tough and she can scare the monsters away."

Hotch looked up to Emily and smiled, running his hand over her hair, "Hear that?" he said, his eyes twinkling, "You're tough and scary."

"You'd better remember that," Emily replied with a knowing smile, as she pushed herself up from the floor and adjusted Jack in her arms, "Alright, Jack-in-the-box," Emily whispered, "Let's go hunt some monsters."

Hotch watched them walk out of the living room and disappear around the corner, turning back to stare at the screen and let out the breath he'd been holding. If Jack had walked into the room any later, Hotch wondered if he would've seen something that would have scarred him for life. Hotch kept finding himself in these situations with Emily, where he was certain that one or both of them could just push them over the edge. But something always stopped them.

He sighed and hoisted himself onto the couch, leaning forward and taking a sip of his beer. He stood up from the couch, considering walking down the hall to check on the monster search, but decided against it, dropping back down to the couch. He stood up again, deciding that the least he could do was help hasten the search, but his cell buzzed on the coffee table and he turned back to pick it up.

"Hotchner," he replied.

"Agent Hotchner, this is Detective Craw with Metro PD," the caller said quickly, "I got your number from my colleague, and I need your help. I've got a body and I need to bring you guys in on it…" he sighed, "… I know you mostly handle serial killers, but this guy… what he did to her."

"How long ago did you find the body?" Hotch asked, looking up when Emily walked back into the room. She dropped down on the couch and reached for her beer, but Hotch stopped her with a gentle hand.

"Not long… she's only been here a couple of hours," Craw replied, "He butchered her, and something tells me she won't be his last."

"Send me the details of where the body is and I can have two of my agents meet you there," Hotch explained, "And when you get a chance, email through the file and we'll get the rest of our team on it."

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner," Craw said, the fatigue clear in his voice, "I'll text you the address now."

Hotch ended the call and turned to look at Emily, "I'm sorry…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head, as he read the text message Craw had just sent. It wasn't often that he wished for a different life, a different job, but tonight was one of those nights. It was pouring outside, and his apartment was warm, and he was sending Emily away.

Emily wrinkled her brow and reached over to squeeze his hand, "Who do I need to pick up?" she asked, having deduced that they had a case, and it was local. She needed to go, because Hotch couldn't. It was the middle of the night and he needed to wait until Jessica or a babysitter could get there to be with Jack.

Hotch sighed, glad that Emily wasn't pissed that he was sending her out into the rain. He looked down at their joined hands and cleared his throat, "Morgan, I'll call him when you leave. You're heading to Riker's Alley in Georgetown," he explained, "You're meeting Detective Craw from Metro PD."

Emily pursed her lips in a tight smile and nodded, squeezing Hotch's hand and standing from the couch. He followed her to the door, grabbing her leather coat and helping her put it on. She opened the door and turned, "I'll call you when we have something," Emily said softly, squeezing Hotch's arm.

Hotch nodded and watched Emily walk through the open door and start down the hall, turning back and closing the door while he dialled Morgan's number. When he heard Morgan pick up, he took a deep breath.

"Hey Morgan, it's Hotch… Prentiss will be at your place in fifteen minutes… we've got a case."

"You'll be great, Red," Rossi remarked, squeezing Garcia's shoulders before he walked away.

Emily followed suit, gently patting Garcia's arm before the followed the others away so that Morgan could work his magic on her.

As they reached the front door of the station, Emily felt her cell buzz in her pocket and she cleared her throat, "I'll be with you guys in a minute," she called out, smiling at Reid when he turned to nod.

"Hey Mom," Zac said, "I'm sorry... I know you're on a case."

"It's fine," Emily replied, keeping an eye on her surroundings, "What's up?"

Zac sighed, "I just had a call from Dad," he explained.

"What?" Emily exclaimed, shaking her head and lowering her voice, "What did he want?"

"That's what's weird," Zac replied, "He said that he was going to be in LA next month and he knew about my graduation, and wondered if he could come to the ceremony."

Emily's eyes grew wide and she bit her lip, "And what did you say?"

Zac huffed and shrugged, "I said that I'd think about it... but Mom... I don't know," he replied, "I suppose it would be nice to have him come to one big life event, but... would it be weird for you? I'm guessing he hasn't run it past you."

"Zac, sweetheart," Emily said softly, "He's your father, but it's your graduation. It's your decision - he doesn't get to decide and neither do I."

"Would it be weird for you?" Zac asked, wishing his mom could give him a hint as to how to respond.

Emily bit her lip and shrugged, shoving her free hand into her pocket, "It's not about me," she replied, dropping her head down. She wished she could tell Zac not to let John come to the graduation, but it was no longer her place to make decisions for him. She could give him a listening ear, and she could help him weigh up the pros and cons of any decision, but the final call was Zac's, and Zac's alone.

Zac bit his lip and let out a puff of air, thinking about the best way to go on this decision. He kind of hated his father for throwing this curveball. Zac had pretty much gone his entire life with not much more than the occasional birthday card. He didn't know what his father did for work. He didn't know his favourite band. He didn't know if he put the cereal in the bowl first, or the milk. And of all of the events to attend, this seemed like a strange choice, like his request was just out of convenience. He'd said that he would be in town, so he could come, not that he was coming to town for the sole purpose of attending the graduation.

Zac shook his head, "I don't think he should come," he explained, nodding his head as he became more sure of his decision.

Emily closed her eyes and let out a silent sigh of relief, "If that's your decision, then I'll support you," she replied, "You can blame me, if you want."

Zac chuckled, "Unnecessary, but I appreciate the offer," he huffed, "I might offer to meet up with him for dinner while he's in town, instead."

Emily nodded and smiled, looking up when Reid called her name, "I think that'd be a great compromise," she replied, "Uh sweetheart, I have to go... I'll call you tomorrow morning."

"Ok," Zac replied, "Stay safe Mom. I love you."

"Love you too," Emily said softly, smiling as she ended the call. She shoved her cell back in her pocket as she made her way outside, climbing into the driver's seat and nodding to Reid, "You ready to go?"

Reid fidgeted awkwardly where he stood, leaning against the brick wall outside the theater, waiting for the others. At present, it was just him, Hotch, and Rossi. And while he was happy to talk serial killers with the two senior agents, he wasn't great at small talk. At least, not small talk on the subject of children, cigars, or golf.

"What, you couldn't even dress up for a night at the theater?" Morgan teased as he approached the group, tugging at Reid's cardigan.

"I wore a tie!" Reid replied incredulously, pointing at Hotch, "Even Hotch didn't wear a tie!"

Hotch huffed, shrugging his shoulders, "I can go without it for one night."

"Can you though?" Rossi teased, patting Hotch on the shoulder with a smile.

Morgan looked around the group and furrowed his brow, "Where's Emily?" he asked, to no one in particular. Although, Morgan looked in Hotch's direction, if anyone would know where Emily was, it would be that guy.

Rossi shook his head, "She said she'd meet us here at quarter to," he replied, glancing down at his watch, "She still has a few minutes."

"I'm surprised she didn't come with you, Hotch," Reid remarked, immediately regretting his comment when he saw the looks on the faces of the rest of the group. Hotch was throwing him the warning glare to end all warning glares. Morgan and Rossi were exchanging a knowing look and holding back laughter.

Reid shook his head, "I just meant, cause you guys… you're close right?" he sputtered quickly, a blush growing on his cheeks, "I only meant you live near each other and it would make sense for you to commute here together."

"Change of subject, anyone?" Rossi asked, looking around the group.

"Yes please," Reid and Hotch muttered in unison, resulting in a chuckle from Morgan.

Rossi looked around the group and huffed, "I've got nothin… sorry kid," he said, offering Reid a sympathetic shrug. He looked down at his shoes and then up at the others and groaned, "Can we really not find anything to talk about that doesn't involve serial killers?"

Hotch opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped when Morgan looked past him and whistled.

"Emily Prentiss!" he called out, the others turning and finding Emily walking towards them in a tight red dress and matching heels.

Emily blushed when she found the guys all staring, regretting her outfit choice for just a moment. When she'd been getting ready at home, she figured she'd go for something different, something daring. After all, she spent most of her waking hours dressed in jeans and sensible shoes. A rare night out, and to a play no less, called for something a little more dramatic.

Hotch swallowed hard, his heart suddenly beating so loud he thought it might jump out of his chest. He couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Emily dressed up like this, and he wondered why. Sure, she couldn't exactly chase down an unsub dressed like that, but Hotch thought he might like to see her try.

As she neared the group, Emily swatted at Rossi's shoulder with her clutch, "Would you mind picking your jaw up off the ground, please?" she remarked, resulting in a chuckle and a kiss on the cheek.

"Who knew you hid those pins underneath those pant suits!" Morgan teased, resulting in an eye roll from Emily, "I'm not kidding," he continued, putting his arm on her waist, "Now you tell me where, and I'll take those legs out for a dance any night of the week."

"You guys didn't have to wait for me," Emily said, ignoring Morgan's comment, and focusing her attention on Hotch. It wasn't often he was out in public without a tie, but the sight of him in jeans and a blazer was causing that blush to creep up her neck again. She had seen him outside of work enough to appreciate how he filled out a pair of jeans, but he usually paired it with a t-shirt and sneakers. As she looked him up and down, she decided that this look was definitely one of her favourites.

"Alright then," Rossi said, holding up the tickets, "Let's head inside."

As the group started into the theater, Hotch held back so that he could walk with Emily. He leaned over, as close as he could, so he could whisper in her ear, "You look beautiful, Emily."

Emily blushed and patted his arm as he held the door open for her, "You don't scrub up too bad yourself, sir," she replied, gripping at the open collar of his shirt, "This casual look definitely works for you… you should break it out in the office sometime."

Hotch huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets while they waited in line, Rossi passing the tickets back to the others. As they started moving into the theater and down the stairs, Hotch let a sneaky hand drop to Emily's back, under the guise of helping her navigate the dark, steep staircase. He felt her lean into him, her body instinctively gravitating towards his in a way that made his mouth dry. If they weren't out with the entire team, Hotch felt like he might even try his luck a little lower, but… he sighed… they were surrounded by their colleagues.

As they reached their rows of seats, Hotch watched Emily slide through to take her seat next to Reid, turning when he heard Rossi clear his throat and hold up his ticket.

"You wanna swap?"

Emily pulled Garcia into a hug, "You were amazing," she gushed, squeezing her friend tight. She dropped her voice to a whisper, "You are so brave... I could never speak in front of so many people. You might just be my new hero."

Garcia chuckled and kissed Emily's cheek, "I will gladly accept that title," she replied with a smile. As they stepped back, Garcia looked around the group, "Ok… there's an incredible cocktail bar just down the street, so who wants to buy me a drink?"

Morgan chuckled and raised his hand, "First round's on me," he replied, taking Garcia by the hand and leading the group out of the theater.

As they made their way out onto the sidewalk, the group broke off into pairs, Morgan and Garcia in the front, Reid and Emily behind, and Hotch and Rossi bringing up the rear. The weather had been coming and going all week, and this night was no different. Reid looked up at the dark sky, anticipating more rain, but for the timebeing, the clouds were behaving.

"I heard about a theater group who's coming to DC next month," Reid remarked, glancing over at Emily, "Maybe we could all go together again?"

"Is that the Globe Theater Company?" Emily asked, taking from Reid's surprised look that she had guessed correctly, "I read about that too… I saw them a while back in London and thought they were fantastic."

"Are you a fan of the ballet?" Reid asked, reaching into his satchel to take out his umbrella as the drops began to fall from the sky. He held it up between them, and Emily gripped his arm tight.

"I love the ballet!" Emily exclaimed, skipping over a puddle gracefully, "I so wanted to be a dancer when I was younger, but I'm way too clumsy."

Reid chuckled and nodded, "You do give me a run for my money on that account."

Emily smiled and squeezed Reid's arm, "If you want to, I think the National Ballet's program for next year includes Le Corsaire, which happens to be my favourite," she explained, "It's still a while away, but it could be something fun to plan for."

Reid smiled and nodded, lowering his umbrella as they reached the covered area outside the front door of the bar, "That would be really nice, Emily," he replied. He looked down at her, clutching his arm at his side, and wondered why they didn't hang out more... outside of work. He enjoyed Emily's company and they seemed to have similar interests. He didn't know anyone else who would volunteer to see a reimagining of Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven, or who would dress up in a Star Trek costume and sit outside a hotel because they heard that Leonard Nimoy was staying there. Reid made a mental note to make more of an effort to spend time with Emily.

Just as they were stepping inside the front door of the bar, Emily stopped, feeling her cell buzz in her clutch, and when she took it out and saw the caller ID, she tipped her head towards the door.

"I'll meet you guys in there," she said to the others, "I need to take this."

Hotch and Rossi walked in first, but Reid stayed next to Emily, "Can we order you something?" he asked.

Emily smiled as she hit the button to answer the call, "Uh… gin martini… three olives," she replied with a grateful smile and a squeeze of Reid's arm, "Thanks."

"Gin martini's," Clyde remarked, "Where are you, and can you order me one too?"

Emily sighed and shook her head, as she started to walk away from the front door, and as far as the covered area would allow, "What can I do for you, Clyde?"

"All business," he replied, "I've always liked that about you, Emily…" he sighed, "… I wanted your expertise on something sensitive, and wondered if you have access to a SCIF?"

"Uh… yeah," Emily replied, as she spotted Hotch making his way out of the bar and heading her way, "We have a SCIF at the BAU, but I won't be back there for a few days…" she paused as Hotch reached her, "What's this about?"

Clyde sighed, realising he would have to give Emily something if he was going to convince her to cooperate, "We've received word from a counterpart in Mexico, that Liam, Doyle's lieutenant, has escaped custody. Last our contacts heard, he was heading south, but we can't be sure. We have some information and I need you to take a look at and tell us what you can from your time with them."

Emily frowned and held up a finger for Hotch, signalling for him to stay quiet. He nodded and smiled as Emily reached out to grip his hand in hers, before she went back to her call, "Of course," she replied, biting her lip and letting out a deep breath, "I'll take a look and get back to you as soon as I can."

"I'll send you the encrypted file… same process as before," Clyde explained, "Just make sure you're on a secure server before you unlock anything."

Emily rolled her eyes, not wanting to get involved in this mess again, while simultaneously coming to the realisation that she would never be able to escape it, "I have some contacts down there," she explained, "I can reach out to them if you think it'll help."

"That would be great," Clyde replied, "And when this is all over you can tell me, again, why it's a much better use of your resources to work for the FBI instead of us."

"Clyde," Emily warned, glancing up at Hotch, "I'll talk to you later."

"I'll speak to you soon, Emily."

Hotch frowned as Emily ended the call, dropping his hand so she could shove her cell back into her purse, "What was that about?" he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets. He'd heard Emily mention Clyde, who Hotch knew had been her team leader at Interpol. And again, his heart raced at the prospect of Emily's former life coming to call.

Emily shook her head and reached out to pat Hotch's chest, "It was nothing, Aaron," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him, "He just wanted my advice on something."

Hotch studied Emily's face, her pursed lips and her wrinkled brow. She let out a puff of air and he knew there was something she wasn't telling him. But the way that she was picking at her fingernails told him not to push. Instead, he tipped his head towards the door and held out a hand.

"Come on… your martini's waiting," Hotch said softly, waiting for Emily to take his hand. He wasn't normally demonstrative in public, but tonight he had been keeping a respectful distance. As they stepped through the door, Hotch gave Emily's hand one last squeeze before he let go, and he leant down to whisper in her ear, "Also, fair warning, Garcia is insisting on dancing, so I may have an excuse to spin you around the dancefloor."

Emily smiled widely, stashing away her worries about Irishmen and vendetta's for the evening as she looked up at Hotch, "Well, sir... we can't waste this dress."