5 Times Aaron Hotchner kissed Emily Prentiss
In no particular order
A Kiss In The Bathtub
It's a Sunday, one of the few days of the week she gets a couple of minutes of uninterrupted peace. On Sundays, Aaron makes breakfast with the kids. It's been a thing since Ava turned one, and even though she's just barely old enough to understand what breakfast is, Jack loves their tradition, Aaron even more so.
One of Emily's favorite sounds in the world is the noise that comes from the kitchen every morning around 9:30 AM - the bang of the pots and pans on the stove, Aaron explaining patiently over and over that no, you can't let the egg shell get in the batter, and no, you can't lick the spoon, and the excited squeals that come when he gives them extra whipped cream right out of the can. It's a little pleasure, a small moment of joy that comes like clockwork every seven days. The best part of it all is the fact that she doesn't have to worry about cleaning up the mess left behind.
Which is why Emily finds herself in the bathtub at 10 AM on a cool Sunday morning in the middle of fall. Her hair is piled on the top of her head in a messy, twisted bun, her face free of any makeup. There's a mug of coffee on the ledge, the warm water and bubbles lapping against her bare skin. It's soothing against her sore muscles; she has Aaron to thank for that, she reminds herself with a grin, the events of a few hours before coming back to her. He'd been dizzyingly persistent and determined in his efforts to push her over the edge several times, each one more creative than the last. If it hadn't been for the gentle press of his hand against her lips as she cried out his name all four times, they for sure would have woken the kids.
Emily smiles to herself, reaching for the mug of coffee and taking a sip. It's exactly as she likes it, with just enough heavy cream and a subtle hint of vanilla and a touch of cinnamon. If she closes her eyes, she might even be able to relax for a few minutes, thanks to the French music coming from her phone, perched on the lid of the toilet. Her eyes slide shut and she slips further into the tub, all the bubbles coming up over her shoulders and nearly touching her chin.
"Someone looks relaxed," a voice comes from the doorway, and when Emily opens her eyes, Aaron is leaning against the doorframe, looking deliciously casual in a gray t-shirt that's stained with flour, and a pair of navy sweatpants. There's flour on his forehead and in his hair, which is perfectly tousled. She only smiles, glancing at the clock on the wall. Has it really been almost a full half hour?
"I am," she tells him, sitting up so he gets the perfect view of her chest covered just enough with the bubbles, but not leaving too much to the imagination. Some water sloshes onto the floor but she doesn't care. "Sounds like you're having a good time."
"Well, it's cleanup time, and you know how much they love that," Aaron says with a chuckle. "Jack is making your plate now." He comes to sit down beside her, reaching for her coffee mug and taking a sip. "You definitely got bathwater in this," he says, making a face as he sets the mug on the toilet lid next to her phone. "I'll bring you a fresh one."
"I can do it," Emily says, reaching out and curling her fingers around his arm, wanting him to stay for just a few more minutes, just the two of them. "I have to get moving, anyway."
"No you don't," he says, bringing his hand to cover hers. "In fact, the kids want to bring you your breakfast in bed." He smirks when he says it, as if he can predict her reaction perfectly.
"Oh is that so?" Emily leans back against the wall of the tub, closing her eyes briefly. "Remember the last time that happened?"
"Jack knocked the tray over when Ava bumped into him trying to climb onto the bed." Aaron rubs his forehead with his wrist, a soft smile playing on his lips at the memory playing out in his mind. It had been funny, he thinks, despite how sad Jack had looked.
"And Hollandaise sauce went everywhere," Emily reminds him, sounding more annoyed than she actually is, even though it'd made a huge mess. "Just what were the kids doing making eggs benedict, Aaron?"
"That was my idea," he says, brushing his lips against her forehead, then down her face. "I handled that one mostly myself."
"You don't say."
"Luckily for you, this one's a little less messy." He rises to his feet and bends over, reaching for her mug to refill.
"Oh yeah? What is it?"
He leans over the tub, kissing her lips with enough force to remind her of just how long he'd spent kissing her the night before. Emily moans, licking into his mouth, their teeth clashing together. She actually gasps out loud when he breaks the kiss, her eyes starting to glaze over.
He's grinning at her, looking pleased with himself. "You'll just have to wait and see."
A Kiss While Doing Dishes
"It's geography, Aaron," Emily complains, holding up the green folder in her hands, briefly looking at the assignment in question with a frown. "Plus … this one is long."
"What's wrong with geography?" He asks her, trying not to laugh.
"I hate geography," she grumbles, putting some leftovers into one of the pyrex containers with one hand while simultaneously finishing the food on her plate with the other. There are still plates and dishes on the table - Ava had had a meltdown over broccoli less than ten minutes into dinner, leading to a temper tantrum that had all but ended their family dinner. Aaron and Jack ate without them, as Emily used every trick she had to calm her down.
"Emily, he's in third grade. It's not that complicated." Aaron rolls his eyes, amused at his wife's aversion to the subject. They both tag-team helping Jack with his homework most nights. Emily typically handles anything reading related, patiently helping him with all the complicated words and their meanings, quietly encouraging him whenever he stumbles over a new one, and subtly cheering him on when he succeeds.
Aaron often wonders just how she can be so patient. Reading doesn't come as easily to his son as he would have liked, but Emily has taken it upon herself to work with him every night on it. Aaron's focus is math - he prefers it. With math, there's only one right answer. Since they've worked that out, homework related tears have lessened significantly.
"We already read before you got home. If you take geography homework tonight, I'll do the dishes." She cocks her head to the side, her hands on her hips, a pleading smile on her face.
Aaron considers her briefly, scanning her up and down with his eyes. Emily hates dishes, he thinks, almost as much as I do.
"Daaaaaad," Jack complains from the other room. "Please help me? I want to play my game when I'm done with my homework!"
Turning back to Emily, Aaron nods his head in agreement. "Deal."
Twenty minutes later, Jack is immersed in his video game, making the most of his half hour of nightly screen time. Ava is perfectly content playing with her blocks while watching her brother, squealing happily every so often, tossing a block in the air. Aaron is watching them both, flipping through a newspaper.
"Aaron?" Emily calls him from the kitchen.
She sounds tired, he notices right away.
"Jack, watch your sister for a minute." Aaron gets up, making his way into the kitchen, where Emily is bent over the sink, working on the last of the dishes.
"What is it, sweetheart?" He asks, coming up to stand behind her, looping his arm around her waist, pulling her hips back into his, kissing the side of her face just beside her ear.
"I made a deal with Ava earlier," she says softly, pushing a piece of hair out of her eyes with her wrist. "She told me she'd eat broccoli if you read a story with her tonight. She specifically requested her favorite one." Emily winks, not even bothering to stifle her grin.
"Not the one about the purple plastic purse," Aaron groans, bringing his other arm around her waist too. "And the mice? I've read that one at least four times this week. And a few times last week."
"It's her favorite, Aaron," Emily quips, rinsing one more dish before sliding it into the dishwasher. "You should have seen her face when I told her you would be more than happy to read it again."
"She's just like someone else I know," he murmurs into her ear, kissing her again, enjoying the way she shivers in his arms. "Clever, knows how to get what she wants."
"I wonder who that could be," Emily retorts, pushing her hips suggestively into his. "Any ideas?"
There's the sound of wooden blocks crashing to the ground, and then Ava's wails. "Mommy! Mommy!"
Aaron tightens his grip around Emily's waist, letting his free hand trail up to her breast, giving a gentle squeeze as he plants one more kiss on her cheek, this one lingering, as if he isn't quite done with her yet. "We'll finish this later."
"You've got yourself another deal."
First Kiss
The first time he kisses her, she's almost twenty years old. She's wearing a black leather jacket, dark jeans that make her legs look like matchsticks, and a pair of shoes that could easily snap an ankle with one wrong step. Her long dark hair is blown out straight, and there's an open bottle of wine in her hand. She's stretched out underneath of him on a picnic blanket in the middle of a grassy field at sunset in the middle of August.
Aaron can't help but think she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. There's just one small problem. Her mother is his boss. He's had his eye on her for the better part of the summer, but he's new to the Ambassador's security team, and he can't afford to mess this up. This job is merely a stepping stone to a better one, one he's had his eye on for a long time.
She sees right through him from the beginning. It's obvious he has a crush on her, but what she won't tell a soul is that she has a thing for him, too. Aaron keeps his distance - it's the right thing to do, and tries to push the elusive Emily out of his mind whenever he's at the mansion. But she finds him somehow, breaks down his steely exterior with a few witty jokes, a toss of her hair, and a shake of her hips, and he's a goner right from the start. After that, when she finds him he's more than willing to talk to her, and he does. All summer long.
"No one has to know," is what she tells him when she sneaks into his car minutes after his shift has ended one night in August. "No one will, if you don't say anything."
"I won't," he tells her right back, and follows her directions to the small park a few miles away from her mother's sprawling house. "I take it you've been here before?"
"A few times." She has a blanket tucked over her arm with that bottle of red wine in the other, and when she finds a suitable place, out of earshot of anyone else, she spreads the blanket onto the grass. "How about here?"
"Fine with me." He's certain he'd sit in the DMV during the busy hours with her if she asked him to.
They sip the wine - she drinks more than he does but he feels it first - and make small talk as the sun sets. He learns things about her - she speaks six languages. Four fluently, but I can get by in six - is what she tells him, and he only nods, completely smitten from the beginning. She learns he wants to be an FBI agent, and he smiles when she tells him she could see him being in charge one day.
It's the perfect kiss. He's only ever kissed one girl before - Haley, except she'd told him earlier that summer she wanted to take a break, to see what's out there. He hadn't expected it, but then again, he never expected to find Emily either.
Kissing Emily is much different - she gives as good as she gets, like she means it, and the scent of her perfume and shampoo nearly makes him dizzy when he lowers her down to the blanket, slipping his tongue past her lips and into her mouth. She runs her hand down his face, buries her fingers in his hair, and when he pulls away, her lipstick is smudged and her hair a mess. He's fairly certain he might die a happy man right then and there.
But she goes back to Yale only a week after, and she only sounds slightly regretful when she says goodbye. The ache in his chest is dulled just a little when Haley comes to his door one night a short time later, wearing a sheepish grin, saying she wants to give things another go.
Many years later, Aaron kisses Emily again in the middle of a shabby Colorado hotel room, because he came too close to losing her that day, maybe for good. It feels like the first time all over again as he slides his hands up to her cheeks, gently of course to avoid the bruises that mar her pale skin. They've already begun to set, and will be an angry shade of black and blue in the morning. But it doesn't take away from just how beautiful she really is, he observes, when his heart is in his throat and his lungs won't work properly. When his lips are finally on hers (after over a year of just imagining what it would feel like) he knows the years of waiting were worth it.
He decides then and there he wants to do it again every single day after that.
2 AM Kiss
Damn construction, Aaron muses as he opens the front door as softly as he can, locking it behind him and setting the security system. He was supposed to be home over an hour ago. Virginia traffic never fails, no matter what time of day. Surely they're all sleeping - it's late (really it's early at this point), and he'd told her not to stay up for him when he'd called just before leaving Minneapolis hours before.
He hopes Emily didn't stay up. It's only three weeks into her maternity leave - her second in the last three years - and going from two to three has been more of a challenge than either of them ever anticipated. It's also his first trip back since Grace was born, yet one more adjustment for the both of them.
Aaron toes off his shoes, leaving them with his coat on the chair by the door, dropping his go bag too. He'll deal with it later. The house is silent, as he expected it would be. A quick overview of the living room reflects the reality of three kids, one an infant. Toys litter the floor, a few blankets tossed across the large sofa, plastic lidded cups on the coffee table. Something else that can wait til the morning, he thinks, bypassing the mess and ascending the stairs. At this point, all he wants is to see Emily.
The light on her bedside table is on, turned low so as to not wake Grace, sound asleep in the bassinet on Emily's side of the bed. There's a bottle on the nightstand and a book perched on her chest, her head tilted to the side, eyes slightly closed. He tiptoes around the end of the bed to Grace, peering into the bassinet, touching the top of the sleeping baby's head. As if on cue, Emily opens her eyes.
"You're back," she murmurs.
"Tell me you didn't wait up."
"What if I did?" She asks, pushing herself up against the mountain of pillows behind her head. "Or tried to, at least?" She yawns with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck as he settles next to her, the mattress sinking under his weight. Breathing him in, Emily sighs contentedly. "I'm so happy you're home."
"Looked like you were sleeping." Aaron cups the back of her head with one hand, gingerly bringing her closer as their lips meet in a kiss, chaste at first, a quick greeting. Even though it's been three weeks, she's still a little sore, especially around her incision. Only when he gets a subtle whiff of her shampoo does he realize just how much he's missed her. He hugs her a little tighter, smiling into her neck.
"I fed her not too long ago." Emily tips her head in Grace's 's smiling, yet she looks so tired. "But I was just dozing," she says, pressing her forehead against his when she pulls away.
"Right," he teases, touching the tip of her nose with his finger, running his hand down the side of her face.
"Maybe I just wanted to see you. Missed you." She lets him lay her back against the pillows, and he follows her down with one more kiss before he stands up. "How did it go?"
"I missed you too. It was long. Cold. How are you feeling?"
"Better every day," she says with a soft smile. "We went on a walk today. Our longest one yet. Everyone was going a little stir-crazy in the house."
"All four of you?" Aaron pulls his shirt from the waistband of his pants, making quick work with the buttons before tossing it onto the chair. "I can only imagine how entertaining that was."
"Well, Jack insisted on pushing the stroller, and Ava refused to sit for more than five minutes. She says Jack pushes too slowly, and Daddy does it better." Emily rolls her eyes, even though she looks amused. "I'm sure the neighbors got a real kick out of it."
Aaron laughs at the image. "We can go on a walk tomorrow. All five of us."
She shakes her head. "I'm out tomorrow. That's all you, Aaron."
He tosses his pants to the chair too, reaching for a pair of sweatpants Emily left out for him. "Sounds like a deal," he says, climbing into bed beside her, sealing his lips over hers once again.
Happy Kiss
There's something slightly off about her lately; he's determined to figure it out.
It's a subtle difference. At home, she's moody, slightly less patient than normal. A few uncharacteristic snaps at him, the low tolerance for any and all of the kids' arguments. At the office, she's off her game, if only subtly. But he knows her too well by now; he notices everything. Hell, he's a profiler, for God's sake. "My back hurts," is what she'd told him when he first asked a week ago if something was bothering her, right before they'd gone into the field. She'd pushed him off quicker than he could process her response.
When she comes to his office in the middle of a rainy Wednesday, he knows right away something is wrong. He's on the phone but he gestures for her to come in. I'll be done in a minute, he mouths, and Emily just nods her head in mild annoyance, pacing the floor. Her hand is stuffed in the pocket of her jacket, she looks pale.
"What is it?" He asks, hanging up the phone, his eyes following her as she paces the length of his office in a few long strides.
"I have to tell you something." Is that fear he sees in her eyes?
"What is it? I'm supposed to meet Strauss in a half hour," he adds, feeling slightly guilty for brushing her off so quickly.
"I'm pregnant, Aaron."
The file in his hands slips right out, with papers spilling all over the floor around his desk. "What?" He's on his feet in seconds, reaching for her and bringing her into his arms.
"I just took a test," Emily says with a hint of panic in her voice. She pulls it from her pocket, staring at it in disbelief, but Aaron only pulls her closer. "The blinds are open, you know."
"No one is paying attention, sweetheart" he tells her, peppering the side of her face with kisses. "They're working."
She shakes her head as the telltale nausea comes roaring back. "I think I need to sit down."
He leads her to the couch, helping her sit down and settling next to her, their fingers linked together. Emily's eyes are closed as she breathes, doing everything she can to suppress the roiling in her stomach.
"You want some ginger-ale?" He might have an extra somewhere in his desk drawer.
Shaking her head with a groan, Emily lifts her head to meet his gaze. "How did this happen?" she moans, resting her head on his shoulder for a brief second, as she tries to process it all. "We've been so careful."
"I think I remember perfectly, Em," Aaron says with a chuckle, thinking back to a time just a few weeks ago when they were anything but careful. "You don't?"
Rossi's wedding, in the picturesque Northern Virginia wine country, had been a rare, kid-free occasion exactly nine months prior. Ava and Jack had been left in the care of a babysitter along with Henry and Michael, while Aaron, Emily, JJ, and Will, along with the rest of the BAU team, celebrated all night. Of course, they took full advantage of the open bar situation.
After a few too many glasses of cabernet, one thing had led to another, and they'd snuck off like a couple of newlyweds to one of the gazebos along the tree-lined driveway of the winery, completely oblivious to knowing glances of their friends.
Emily had taken off her shoes along the way and Aaron's suit jacket was left at the table in their haste. "I've wanted to do this all day," he'd murmured as they laughed, hand in hand, the entire walk down, stealing kisses and pulling each other along.
Once alone, her dress had been pushed up to her waist within seconds, and Emily somehow managed to almost free Aaron from the confines of his dress shirt and pants along with his belt. "You're wearing too many clothes," she'd complained as her hands struggled to work the buckle in her semi-drunk state.
"It's a wedding," he'd laughed, helping her finish the job, his hands hardly any steadier than hers. "What else do you think I should wear?"
"This beats dancing," Emily had breathed into his ear as she sank down onto him once he'd been divested of his pants, perfectly centered on his lap, barely giving herself a chance to adjust to him before she started tentatively moving her hips in a circle. "You know how I feel about dancing."
"Trust me, sweetheart, that comes later," Aaron had said right before starting to move, rocking up into her with the perfect precision that comes with years of practice. He'd anchored her to his chest with one arm, his other hand expertly dipping between her legs. "We're dancing."
...
"I guess we were pretty dumb." Emily says, yet she's smiling at the memory.
"I seem to remember it differently," Aaron teases, bringing his hand up to her back, rubbing gentle circles. "Can I get you anything, sweetheart?"
"No," she mutters, reaching for his hand. "I need to get back downstairs. Don't we have a case?"
"You're out of the field as of right now," Aaron tells her sternly but his hand is still gentle on her back. "You know that, right?"
"I couldn't even run if I wanted to, Aaron."
"Why don't you lay down for a little while? I'll think of something to tell the team." He pushes her back onto the couch, reaching for one of the little pillows to support her head.
"They're going to figure it out immediately." Emily's eyes are already closed; she's curled on her side. She'll be asleep in a few minutes, he's sure of it. "They're not dumb."
"I can be pretty convincing." Aaron leans over to kiss his wife on the cheek, unable to hide the overwhelming happiness that suddenly overtakes him at the thought of having another baby. "I really am so happy, Emily."
Her eyes flutter open for a few moments. "Me too, Aaron. Me too." And when she kisses him back, a smile on her lips, he knows she's telling the truth.
Next up … five times they almost got caught.