Author's Note: The last chapter was them getting ready for the party. This is a continuation of the evening, picking up about an hour into their little shindig.
It's a long one!
Prompt Set #13 (December)
Show: Maude
Title Challenge: The Office Party
Prompt Set #23 (October)
Show: Saved by the Bell
Title Challenge: The Friendship Business
Late December: Tuesday Evening
The Bitter With The Sweet
Hotch sidestepped two slightly intoxicated couples as he circled Emily around the dance floor for the second time since they'd arrived at the holiday party.
A quick glance down to his watch told him that it was nine seventeen, and thus far . . . Emily started to laugh as he twirled her over to the corner . . . they'd been having a hell of a good time tonight! And if God could grant them a little luck, and one HUGE favor, then hopefully they'd be able to stay out at least another hour.
Maybe an hour and a half.
But if Emily started to get tired, or he saw her begin to rub her temple . . . an indisputable indicator of an impending headache . . . then they would most likely have to leave. Though if they had to leave because Emily was sick, and not because she was ready, then Hotch knew that was going to place a serious damper on her memories of the evening. So basically he was just praying for one more hour without incident.
And so far the evening had been completely incident free.
They'd arrived at the party at eight-twelve . . . three minutes ahead of the revised schedule, thank you very much . . . and headed directly over to the previously agreed upon meeting location (aka the coat room) to apologize to JJ and Will for keeping them waiting. Well, that's what Hotch did, apologize that is, Emily had decided to go a different route. After she'd looked at JJ for two beats, they'd both squealed loud enough to make him wince. Then they'd thrown their arms around each other and began hugging and hopping as they'd started gushing a mile a minute about how fabulous the other looked.
For two women who were ordinarily the picture of grace and decorum, it was a hell of a sight to see.
But Hotch's assessment of this uncharacteristically "feminine" behavior, was that it had just been entirely too long since the two women had seen each other. And really, it had been close to six weeks, which was an eternity when you're used to seeing somebody every day. In fact, seeing how excited they were, he hadn't had the heart for even a gentle teasing of their fawning hellos and manic hugging.
How could he?
Between the incident in Montana, the fallout with Morgan, and the cancer diagnosis, it had been a terribly hard month for both him and Emily. And for just a few minutes JJ had made his girl deliriously happy.
That was a joy too sweet to mock.
Fortunately Will seemed to be of the same mindset. Because the two of them had simply exchanged amused headshakes, before Hotch jerked his thumb over his shoulder and the men headed off to get drinks.
Non alcoholic drinks of course. JJ was still breast feeding and Emily's new medications all had big Xs on them when it came to consumption of alcoholic beverages. And because the men were trying to be supportive of their women, they too were abstaining from any liquor consumption.
Not that Will knew that's why Hotch and Emily were tee totaling that evening.
In fact he assumed it was simply that they were being polite to the other couple, and he actually thanked Hotch for not tempting him with a beer. Given the litany of questions which would have followed if he'd said anything to the contrary, Hotch felt no need to correct any misconceptions on that front. So when he and Will returned to their respective partners, they'd settled into the lounge area with the ginger ales, (the women), and a small plate of cheese puffs that Will had snagged off the buffet table.
They were JJ's favorite.
But of course Emily immediately had asked Hotch where her favorite was . . . the expected plate of "ginormous" shrimp. So he'd had to regretfully explain that they'd arrived too late, that the waiter told him that the jumbo shrimp were part of the first round of hors oeuvres.
That they'd run out just before they'd arrived.
Hotch had actually winced when the waiter broke that distressing news to him. As he'd discovered months ago, the jumbo shrimp consumption, was one part of the party going experience that Emily particularly enjoyed. She'd even been chattering about in the car. Really, next to the dancing, it was her favorite thing about getting dressed up and leaving the house. And given that she had missed said shrimp consumption because he was an hour late getting home from the office, Hotch had known . . . dire work emergency or not . . . this development was going to get him into trouble.
He had been correct.
Her face had scrunched up in disappointment right before her brow had knitted together in a little scowl. The scowl had been accompanied by poke in the chest and the proclamation that he now owed her a trip to Red Lobster where she would be allowed to pick two menu items of her choosing of which the subtotal would not exceed fifty dollars American.
Now the fact that his punishment for her missing FREE shrimp was her requirement that he pay upwards of forty-nine ninety nine for a basket of replacement seafood, would be considered by most as "punitive" damages above and beyond the compensatory loss. And under other circumstances Hotch might have bartered for a sentence reduction. However, tonight, this was not a point he had even considered quibbling over. Emily had really been looking forward to that shrimp. And he was really hoping to get laid again before Christmas. To that end he had been nodding solemnly before his punishment had even finished passing her lips.
Sometimes it was best to just say uncle.
And once amends had been made for Emily missing her favorite seafood . . . a highly amused JJ shoving a half dozen cheese puffs into her friend's hand had helped move forgiveness along . . . Hotch and Will had talked shop for the next half hour as the women discussed Henry, the holidays, and everyone's least favorite FBI Agent.
Jordan Todd.
Though he was only listening with half an ear, Hotch could hear the generous bell curve with which Emily had graded Jordan's performance to date. But the sugar coating was necessary so that JJ wouldn't feel guilty . . . or worse . . . stressed, about what was happening in the office while she was on leave.
After all, she was the one who had recommended Todd as a temporary replacement. An action Hotch wasn't holding against her at all. Again, Jordan looked more than competent on paper, and he too had met with the woman before she'd started. He had signed off on her. And back in October she had seemed to be a perfectly acceptable fill in. If only she'd walked into her interview wearing a sign indicating that she was in fact a repressed neurotic severely lacking in emotional maturity who did not function well in high stress situations.
Yeah . . . he rolled his eyes slightly . . . a sign like that really would have saved him a lot of grief.
Honestly, it would be very helpful if everyone wore a sign like that. One that listed all of their quirks and idiosyncrasies right up front. That would be great, because contrary to many people's assumptions, profiling wasn't a form of prognostication. Yes, it did give him some general advantages when it came to sizing people up, but at the end of the day, everyone had their own baggage, and most of that baggage . . . and the resulting psychological neuroses that came with it . . . wasn't apparent until you got to the know the person better.
And boy had he ever gotten to know Jordan Todd!
Okay . . . a smidge of Emily's more kindhearted nature annoyingly poked its way into his internal thoughts . . . granted, Jordan was getting a little better about keeping that crap under control, but still, as Hotch flashed on his temporary media liaison's countenance, he'd be ready to throw her a ticker tape parade when she headed back to the Counter Terrorism Unit.
So there was that, the catch up portion of the evening, and then the band had started up on Baby, It's Cold Outside . . . Emily's favorite Christmas song . . . and she'd grabbed his hand, announcing to JJ with a grin that he'd promised her a cumulative sixty minutes on the dance floor to be broken up over two to four outings, and that she really needed to get the clock ticking before he reneged on the whole agreement.
JJ had laughed before tugging on her own date's fingers and playfully demanding the same sixty minute arrangement. Will had whittled her down to forty-five with complaints of his dress shoes causing blisters . . . and then they'd twirled off in the opposite direction.
Hotch had been relieved to see them go.
Not that he wasn't incredibly happy to see both JJ and Will . . . he absolutely was . . . he'd just wanted a little bit of alone time with his girlfriend.
Now that they were sleeping together, he was obviously accustomed to a great deal more "familiarity" with off duty Emily than the last time the two of them had been out with JJ and Will three months ago. And the fact that he had to restrain from putting his hand on Emily's knee when they were sitting and talking to the other couple, had surprisingly thrown off his rhythm.
Since the news of her cancer had shaken their world, he had become even more tactile with her than he had been before. Perhaps it was some silly little part of his brain that thought as long as she was within his grasp then everything would be okay. Perhaps it was that. Perhaps it was just as simple as he loved her, but whatever it was, he'd been thrilled to get a few minutes alone together. Which was why at this moment on the dance floor, the way he was holding Emily wasn't exactly decorous . . . or wise . . . given their surroundings.
But . . . he rested his chin on the top of her head . . . he didn't really much give a shit.
They certainly weren't trying to advertise their relationship . . . he had been keeping his lips to himself . . . but it was Christmas, his girlfriend had cancer, and their entire relationship was going to become public knowledge within the next six weeks anyhow. So as far as he was concerned, on the off chance that anyone they knew actually was paying them any attention, if he or she chose to infer . . . correctly . . . that perhaps his feelings for the woman in his arms were a bit more than professional well, that person was welcome to do so.
Really though, with the exception of JJ and Will who were on the other side of the dance floor, Hotch didn't think that anyone else in the room would find their physicality all that interesting. It wasn't like they were dancing in the middle of the bullpen. This was a cross agency party, and though they knew a few of the guests casually, those people didn't necessarily know that he and Emily had a chain of command issue. And even if they were aware of that information, at best the intimacy of their interactions tonight would be considered a minor piece of . . . as far as Hotch was concerned . . . totally uninteresting, gossip.
No, an earlier scope of the room had assured him that the only person in attendance that would really care if they were sleeping together, was Strauss.
At that thought, Hotch realized that it had been a few minutes since he'd done a check to see if his boss was indeed paying them any attention.
As his gaze drifted across the room, he saw her standing over by the main bar tossing back some kind of clear liquid. And given her general unsteadiness when they ran into her earlier . . . and the fact that the bar had been her primary location since she'd arrived tonight . . . Hotch would bet a week's pay that clear liquid was not water.
Although his boss was not generally known for over imbibing in front of a professional crowd, there was no doubt that she'd been hitting either the vodka, or the peppermint Schnapps, pretty hard tonight. And Hotch was quite sure that had something to do with the rumors he'd heard about Strauss' husband and the nanny.
Or, more specifically, the ex nanny.
Not that Hotch was generally one to partake in gossip like that, but gossip like that was hard to miss. The news had spread through the division chiefs like wildfire. And then of course Dave had gotten his own salacious spin from God knew where.
So if the stories were right . . . and Hotch was pretty sure that they were . . . the husband and the twenty-three year old French au pair had been caught in flagrante delecto, in the marital bed, by none other than the Section Chief herself when she came home early from a conference.
Dave also had added in a few details about sexual position and color of lingerie that Hotch was unsure if he had made up simply for his own amusement. Either way though, the gossip train all agreed that the husband was now staying in a hotel, and the au pair had been drop kicked back to the city of lights faster than she could say, "oui madame, I have been screwing your husband."
And after all of that completely humiliating personal drama, for some utterly MIND BOGGLING reason, rather than keeping a low profile this week, Strauss had decided to attend what was traditionally a warm and festive holiday party . . . all by herself.
As Emily had astutely assessed . . . awkward!
And awkward was definitely the word of the night there. And for anyone else Hotch would have felt genuine compassion and sympathy for her situation. But given that this was the woman who had once tried to destroy his life, Hotch saw the whole scenario more of a 'what goes around comes around' type situation. Maybe now their scales would be even.
Suddenly flashing back on Strauss trying to enlist Emily to betray him, Hotch's jaw started to twitch . . . maybe not.
He wasn't that big of a person.
Though, a thought came to him, perhaps if Strauss hadn't been such a conniving witch then he and Emily wouldn't have grown as close as they had.
No . . . he dismissed the thought as quickly as it came . . . screw that. He and Emily were meant to be, and Erin Strauss was getting absolutely ZERO credit for their current happiness. Really, he was seeing this whole thing as karma kicking her ass for being such a God awful excuse for a human being. And she did seem to be too wrapped up in her personal problems to be paying much attention to anyone else at the party. Well, anyone besides the bartender.
Which was exactly the way they wanted it.
Really, if she'd been her usual self, and started nosing around them or asking why they were there together . . . unlike the UN Gala, Emily's presence held no diplomatic chips for him tonight . . . Hotch would have simply taken Emily home. This party was supposed to be a nice diversion, and the moment Emily started getting stressed for any reason, then he was going to suggest she cash in her Red Lobster card tonight. Dancing or no dancing, he knew that was a surefire way to get her out the door.
Feeling a soft puff of air hit his neck, Hotch's arm tightened its hold around his girl's waist. And then he pressed his lips to her ear.
"Are you getting tired?" He asked softly.
"Mmmm," Emily murmured non-committally before tipping her head back to give him an eyebrow, "but we're not going home yet, okay?"
In response to her eyebrow, Hotch raised one of his own and she knew that he was sizing her up. The fact that she had not directly answered his question had clearly not escaped his notice. And if he asked the question again then this was going to become a conversation that she definitely didn't want to have right now. But fortunately, after a second he tipped his head and nodded, "okay," then he tucked her back against his chest.
As her head fell against his lapel again, Emily sighed in relief.
Thank God he let it go, because any further discussion would have revealed that she wasn't actually tired at all. That . . . her brow furrowed slightly in discomfort . . . wasn't the problem. The problem was that she could feel the faint tickling of another headache coming on. And that would be the second headache today. The third in twenty-four hours actually, and Hotch most definitely would have made an issue out of that.
That would have been a big deal.
But luckily he hadn't asked if she had a headache . . . he'd asked if she was tired. And her response hadn't been a lie, she'd just totally ignored his question. More importantly though, he'd allowed her to ignore his question. Which in itself was fairly unusual, (usually he called her out on her crap immediately), so she didn't have to feel even a little bit guilty about being disingenuous.
Not that she was planning on keeping this headache from him all night, absolutely not. They didn't keep secrets like that . . . she felt a little stab of residual guilt . . . well, not anymore anyway. No, she was just going to keep this annoying little arrival to herself for a bit longer. Maybe a half hour, maybe less, it really depended on how bad it got.
It might seem silly to quibble over such a short period of time, but right now time was a precious commodity. And Emily knew that if she mentioned the headache to Hotch now . . . now before it was even really bothering her . . . then he would immediately start worrying.
And that would immediately ruin the party for both of them.
Because then in five minutes he was going to ask her how she was feeling, if she was ready to go home yet. And then regardless of what she said at the five minute mark, in ten minutes he was going to start working her towards the door. And then in fifteen minutes she'd be dealing with not only the brain tumor headache in her temple, but also a stress and tension one at the base of her skull as she attempted not to throttle the sweetest man on the planet, while he attempted to forcibly remove her from the building. Now for obvious reasons . . . she gently patted Hotch's chest . . . she didn't want any of those things to happen.
Any evening that ended in cross complaint battery charges was not a good one.
Really it was possible that this headache would remain a very minor distraction and nothing more would come of it. And even if it didn't remain minor, the last few weeks had proven that generally she had a bit of time before the ache got bad enough to actually become painful. So as far as she was concerned right now, Emily thought with a bit of annoyance, the most important thing was to not to let this disease run her life.
This was the first time that she and Hotch had been out together at a function since they'd become a couple. And it was two days before Christmas, the décor was beautiful, the band was top notch, and her date was without a doubt the best looking guy in the room.
If not the hemisphere.
And they'd barely been out for an hour, so the tumor could just suck it. She wasn't going to get chased from the party by an entity lacking sentience.
That was bullshit.
Besides, she knew that regardless of whether or not this headache turned into something bad, Hotch had her turning into a pumpkin at ten forty-five. But that was almost an hour from now.
Hopefully they'd still be on the dance floor then.
Feeling her cell phone begin to vibrate in the small gold evening bag dangling from her wrist, Emily reluctantly picked up her head from Hotch's chest to slip the phone out.
Her eyebrow rose slightly in curiosity as she saw the screen.
"Text message from JJ," Emily murmured. And then to Hotch's surprise, he saw her curiosity turn to a scowl right before she jabbed her fingers down on a few keys before and shoved her phone angrily back into her bag. As her head once more settled on his chest, he heard a grumble of . . . eyebrow raising . . . obscenities being muttered under her breath.
Ookaay.
Utterly bewildered, and more than a little amused, by what JJ possibly could have written to warrant that extreme a reaction from the normally sweet tempered woman in his arms, Hotch pressed his lips to her ear.
"So are you going to tell me what the text said that elicited that stream of profanity?" He whispered.
Emily tipped her head back so Hotch could properly appreciate her disgusted eye roll.
"The message was, and I quote, 'what's up with you and Hotch tonight? LOL!'"
Seeing the residual scowl on his girlfriend's face, Hotch's lips started to twitch.
Ordinarily he was better at hiding his amusement in public, but Emily was rather bizarrely irritated at a relatively innocuous . . . clearly not mean spirited . . . message, from her best friend. Hotch himself had already decided that whatever inferences were made tonight by their fellow party guests were fine with him.
Clearly an inference had been made.
Now granted, they weren't planning on telling the actual team about their relationship for a few more weeks, but this was JJ. Not only was she still on leave . . . and therefore outside the day to day gossip circles . . . but she was also the ONE person who had been privy to the more personal aspects of their relationship for months now. Really there wasn't anybody else in the BAU that they'd have considered "double dating" with tonight! So obviously she was the last person that Hotch would expect Emily to get irritated with for making a comment about their relationship.
But irritated she clearly was, and his eyebrow rose in amusement as he looked down at her.
"I see," he cleared his throat, "and what pray tell did you write back to her, sweetheart?"
Recalling that scowl before she pounded her finger down on the Send, Hotch was sure that it was nothing good.
"Oh it was just a little texting shorthand of my own," Emily responded with a sweet smile. Though as Hotch narrowed his eyebrows at her, the sweet smile turned to a smirk, "fine, I typed two letters," she paused, "F and U."
Seeing the look of triumph on her face, Hotch tried . . . and failed . . . to shoot Emily a proper glare before he lost the battle and his mouth started to quiver. But he quickly got that under control as he shook his head, bit the inside of his cheek, and turned to find JJ in the crowd.
Because they had very particularly chosen to dance on the other end of the floor from their friends, it took Hotch a second to find them in the crowd. But then he caught a glimpse of what he thought was Will's head so he moved Emily two steps to the right so he could see better. Then he winced when JJ clearly came into view . . . ooh, she had definitely just received Emily's text message. Though Jennifer Jareau was ordinarily a very lovely woman, Hotch did not consider the shade of red she was turning at that moment to be particularly flattering.
He also didn't envy Will right now. Because given the way she had just shoved the phone into his face, it looked like he was getting an earful. Actually she looked alarmingly like she did the day she found out that Reid had accidentally shredded a stack of her files that she'd put down on the corner his desk when she ran to the ladies room. And that was the day Rossi and Morgan had to actually lift her off the floor as they dragged her out of the bullpen kicking and screaming.
Reid had nearly cried.
And that was the look on her face right now.
Well . . . Hotch's jaw snapped shut . . . crap. That wasn't good. He started chewing the inside of his cheek . . . that wasn't good at all. And the Special Agent in Charge part of his brain reminded him that it had been three days post shredding incident before it was safe for him to let Reid sit in on the briefings again.
Garcia had to set up a special video monitor for him down the hall.
And that part of his brain also reminded him that he should probably do something here before JJ decided to come over and "share" with Emily her exact feelings on the topic of her friend's text message.
Yeah . . . he nodded to himself . . . good idea Aaron, do something.
So to eliminate the possibility of bloodshed on either side . . . all things considered Emily's temper was far more volatile than JJ's . . . Hotch did a quick strategic assessment of their location in relation to JJ and Will's. It was a solid thirteen feet. But Hotch had seen how quickly JJ could move when she was running hot . . . Dave and Morgan both had bruises after her last blow up . . . so that thirteen feet was still at least nine feet too close.
They needed to move.
And a review of available pockets of space showed him that the best locale to keep their heads down until JJ cooled off, would be the far corner of the dance floor. So with an annoyed huff he shifted Emily around and began working her across the room.
Once they'd reached a new bubble of space he rolled his eyes . . . okay, nine and a half additional feet now gained.
Good enough.
As Emily leaned back against him once more, he could feel her smile against his chest.
"Are we safe now?" She asked with a snort.
Hotch craned his neck slightly to see what was happening across the room. After a few seconds there was a break in the flow of people around them and he could see the other couple with relative clarity.
Okay . . . he squinted . . . Will was rubbing circles on JJ's back and . . . he tipped his head again . . . she appeared to be slightly less agitated.
He dipped his head down to whisper back, "yep, we're good."
Feeling Emily's chuckle against his chest, Hotch felt a spark of exasperation and he couldn't help but lightly chastise her behavior.
"You need to be nice though, Emily," he whispered in her ear, "don't forget that you're the one who talked JJ into coming tonight. And although I certainly understand your reasoning, you're also the one who decided we shouldn't tell anyone yet that we're together now. But just because we don't say the words, doesn't mean that the change in our behavior isn't apparent to somebody who knows us well. So if JJ has noticed that we seem a bit . . ." he paused for a second as he tried to think of a word, "closer tonight, than we were the last time she saw us, well, that's more than understandable, don't you think?"
Her amusement fading, Emily felt a stab of guilt at Hotch's words. And then a second later her eyes started to sting.
"You're right," she blinked away the tears before lifting her head to look up at him, "that wasn't nice. I'm sorry. I just," her eyes fell away from his as her voice faded, "I don't know, I just suddenly got really annoyed. This is the first time that we've been out together like this since we became a couple. And everything's so pretty and festive and it feels like a real date, like the one we didn't get to have," she pouted slightly as her head dropped back to his chest again, "I just didn't want her to call us on it," she murmured sadly, "I was afraid that if she did, then the bubble would burst."
It hadn't helped that she had just been worrying that her damn headache was going to cut the evening short. But if life had taught her anything, it was that there was always another way for the bubble to burst.
Like picking a fight with your best girlfriend for no good reason.
"I know, sweetheart," Hotch rubbed his hand down her back as he murmured sympathetically, "I know. But she's still your best friend. And remember that her life has changed quite a bit this last month too. This is the first time that she and Will have been out since they became parents. And let me just tell you," he huffed slightly, "that's a big night. Not to mention, it is Christmas. So," he softened his tone further, "I think it would be nice if you tried to smooth this over before they leave. You don't want to have a silly little fight mar what should be a good night out for both of you," he squeezed her lightly, "agreed?"
He knew Emily, and he knew that when they got home tonight she was going to start feeling guilty about what she'd done. So better for her to clear up this little situation now than let it cause her any stress later. She had enough stress in her life already.
She certainly didn't need any more.
A sad smile touched Emily's lips before she lifted her head again.
"Agreed," she whispered back, "I promise I'll apologize before they go."
Hotch's eyes crinkled slightly before he tucked her under his chin again.
"That's my sweet girl," he murmured against her hair.
It wasn't in Emily to be mean spirited. So he knew that as soon as he'd painted the situation in a different light for her that she'd do the right thing.
He pulled her into a quick hug.
She always did.
/*/*/*/
Three minutes earlier
JJ couldn't stop grinding her teeth. Although Will had her pressed against his dinner jacket, she was ignoring his attempts to mollify her. Instead she was seriously considering heading across the room and giving Emily Prentiss a piece of her mind.
How DARE she talk to her like that?! Since when couldn't she take a little teasing?! And since when did she think that a "FUCK YOU" was the appropriate response to anything, let alone a little JOKE!
God knew she loved Emily . . . JJ felt another surge of anger rise up . . . but sometimes she could be a real BITCH!
And with that thought JJ lifted her head to shoot her friend another nasty look.
Except the other couple wasn't where they were a second ago.
What the . . . her brow knitted together . . . where the hell did they go?
And then she caught sight of them in the corner and she stopped, her irritation beginning to fade as she stared at them for a moment.
Similar to the way Will was holding her, Hotch was holding Emily. She was pressed completely against his body and Hotch was gazing down at her with a familiar look on his face. It was a look JJ sometimes saw on Will when she first woke up in the morning . . . love.
They were in love.
At some point over these last couple months since she'd been out, they'd fallen in love. And given the way they were cuddled together . . . much more intimately than they had been when they were talking as a group . . . she was pretty sure that they were totally together now.
Oh . . . her anger now completely forgotten, JJ's eyes started to sting as she bit her lip . . . that was so sweet!
So sweet in fact that she almost started crying, or maybe it was just the post partum hormones that were still kicking her ass, but either way she did start to tear up a little as she looked over the shoulder of the man she loved, at her best friend wrapped up in the arms of their boss.
Their boss.
Oh crap . . . JJ felt a surge of panic . . . their BOSS! Hotch was their boss!
JJ quickly whipped her head around hoping that nobody else in the room was paying them any attention.
Looks like . . . she let out a sigh of relief . . . no. Everyone was just wrapped up with their own good time. And JJ could see that Strauss now had her coat on and she seemed to be moving towards the door. Beyond that there wasn't anyone else there from the Bureau that JJ knew even well enough to nod hello to in the hall.
Not to say that Emily and Hotch didn't know some people that she didn't, but if they were high enough up the food chain to cause them any problems, then she would have at least recognized them.
As she settled back against her fiancé's chest with a huff, JJ also thanked the gods that Morgan wasn't there tonight. She knew from Garcia that Derek's Holiday Honey this year was an ATF agent working out of the Richmond office. And then Emily had mentioned that Morgan had told her that he and his date might be going to the party tonight too. But given how late it was now, obviously they must have changed their minds.
Thank God.
If he had been here then he would have told Garcia about Hotch and Emily being all cuddled up at the party. And then Garcia would have made it her business to make it everybody's business. Not that Pen's gossip was malicious, but a development like this would definitely have been big news within the team. And although she loved Penelope dearly, JJ she knew firsthand that sometimes . . . her fingers danced across Will's chest . . . personal business was personal business and nobody else's to know.
With that realization another thought suddenly came to JJ . . . God, no wonder Emily had been so mad at her text message! Back when she and Will were still trying to keep things quiet, JJ would have been furious if somebody had commented on their interactions. You tend to get defensive about things that are important to you.
Things that you want to protect.
As JJ snuck another peek across the crowded room she began to wonder why they weren't making more of an effort to be discreet in public. Though as she stared at them, she realized that technically all they were doing was dancing. Yes, it was clear to her that they were now a couple, but that was because of the way Hotch had been looking at Emily a minute ago. Ordinarily it was hard to read more than a hint of emotion on his face, so his feelings hadn't been so obvious when they were all talking earlier.
And Emily was always outgoing and physically demonstrative, so ironically, that made her as difficult a read as Hotch was in the reverse.
JJ's head snapped up when she felt Will tap her on the back.
"Hmm," she murmured in distraction, still looking over his shoulder.
"It's not polite to stare, darlin'," he said with a little smile, and she felt a warmth creep along her cheeks as she shifted her gaze to give him a sheepish grin.
"Oops," she said on a chuckle as she hid her face in his jacket. "I didn't think I was being so obvious."
Clearly her surveillance skills were getting a bit rusty.
"Well," Will rubbed his hand along JJ's back, "you haven't been that engrossed in anyone besides the baby for the last eight weeks, so yeah," he kissed the top of her head, "it was pretty obvious to me."
Though he was pleased to see that JJ no longer looked, as his MeeMaw would say, 'mad as a wet hen,' it really wasn't polite to stare . . . even if you were no longer boring holes into the other person's body.
But as Will looked down to see that JJ's eyes were starting to tear up, he realized that mentioning Henry was probably the dumbest thing that he could have done right now. Tonight was the first time that she had left the baby for longer than a trip to the mailbox. And after the perfunctory flashing of new pictures for Emily and Hotch, there had been a full moratorium on all topics Henry related. The thought being that the longer they could keep JJ distracted with other things, the more she would enjoy having grown up, out of the house, time.
A solid plan which he had just shot completely to shit.
'Real good, jackass,' he berated in his head as he leaned down to give her a kiss. As he pulled back he brushed his fingers along her cheek.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said softly, "I didn't meant to make you sad. Do you want to go home now?"
JJ sniffled as she wiped the corner of her eye, "yeah, I'm sorry, but," she bit her lip, "yeah, I think I would like to go home now."
They'd gone to dinner before the party so it had been almost three hours since they left home. And although JJ had told herself that she could handle a solid four hours away from her baby boy, that was always assuming that she'd kept herself occupied. But now that Will had mentioned Henry, that's all she could think about. Not that she hadn't been thinking about him all night anyway, but right now she was feeling like the worst mother in the world because she had actually forgotten to think about him for almost ten minutes!
All that time she'd been angry at Emily, and then just speculating about her friends' new relationship, had completely pushed any thoughts of her son out of her head.
God . . . she felt wave of self loathing . . . what an awful mother she was!
Will looked down to see the mixture of guilt and remorse on JJ's face and he kicked himself again. Then he pressed another kiss to her lips, and as he wiped the smears of mascara away from her eyes he gave her a little smile.
"Whatever you want, darlin'," he pulled her into a quick hug before murmuring against her hair, "let's just go say goodbye to Hotch and Emily and then we'll go home, k'?"
Making sure to brighten her voice so that Will wouldn't know how crappy she was feeling, JJ nodded against his chest.
"Sounds good."
Then she lifted her head up to give him a sheepish smile.
"And I promise that next time we'll make four hours."
"Hush now about that," Will gently chastised as he started leading her across the dance floor, "you're just being a good momma." Then, trying to think of something to make her laugh, he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.
"And maybe now we'll get home early enough to have a little of that new 'alone time' before the baby wakes up again."
The doctor had said it would still a couple of weeks before JJ's body was ready for actual intercourse, but a couple weeks ago they had found all kinds of fun activities could be had during 'alone time.' And as he saw JJ start to blush right before she giggled and leaned up to kiss his cheek, Will was happy to see that they were at least leaving the party on a positive note again.
And if things went well when they got home . . . he tucked her against his side . . . then all kinds of other things would be ending on a positive note too.
/*/*/*/
Hotch looked up as he saw JJ and Will making their way through the crowd. And seeing the soft smile JJ gave him as their eyes caught, he figured that she'd gotten past her earlier indignation at Emily's rude response.
He was glad to see that. Though he now understood both of their reactions, he didn't want any silly little disagreement resulting in any actual tension between the two women. Their friendship was too important for something like that to happen. And as the other couple walked up, Hotch tapped Emily on the shoulder before shifting her slightly to the side.
His eyes crinkled as he looked between Will and JJ.
"You two leaving?"
Not wanting JJ to be embarrassed about wanting to go home to see the baby, Will spoke first as he put his hand out to shake Hotch's free one.
"Yeah, we gotta get back to the babysitter. Fifteen bucks an hour, if you can believe it," he huffed, "I barely made that much as a rookie!"
Though she knew what Will was doing, JJ still flashed an amused eye roll in Emily and Hotch's direction.
"That is the third time tonight that I've had to hear that speech," she added with affectionate exasperation. Then she mocked the choice of words of her baby's father as she looked over at him, "'if you can believe it'."
Seeing the exaggerated scowl that Will shot back at her, Hotch's mouth quivered slightly . . . it was hard to believe that the two of them weren't already married. And then he heard Emily begin to laugh at his side right before she leaned up to give the transplanted Cajun a goodbye kiss on the cheek.
"Night, Will," Emily chuckled as she pulled back.
A slightly embarrassed grin spread across Will's face when he saw that both Emily and Hotch were now laughing at him.
Oh well . . . he reached over to pick up Emily's hand . . . as jackass moments in his life went, this one wasn't even a blip on the radar. So he just smoothly moved on from the moment with a squeeze of Emily's fingers.
"G'night Emily," he said with a little smile, "it was good seeing you."
"You too," Emily's lip quirked up for a second, but then her gaze shifted to JJ and she sobered, "both of you."
The two women stared at each other for a moment before Emily bit her lip. "I'm sorry for being bitchy," she said with a little pout, "do you forgive me?"
JJ smiled softly.
"Of course I forgive you," she winked, "it's Christmas." And seeing the grateful smile Hotch gave her over Emily's head, JJ felt her eyes start to sting again.
God, they really were in love.
And as she saw him rub his hand supportively down Emily's back, JJ stepped forward to pull Emily into a tight hug. Then she whispered in her friend's ear.
"I'd forgive you anything."
At JJ's words, Emily felt a wave of sadness wash over her for all the secrets that she was keeping from her friend. And suddenly picturing JJ's reaction to the news about the cancer, tears sprang to Emily's eyes as she whispered back, "ditto."
Hearing the quiver in Emily's voice, Hotch put a hand on each of the women's backs as he leaned down to whisper to both of them.
"Okay agents, no crying. You're having a good time tonight, remember?"
Between Emily's roller coaster month, and JJ's postpartum hormones, he could see that both of them were about to start bawling.
"Right," JJ sniffled as she lifted her head up to smile at him, "we're having a good time tonight."
Then she kissed Emily's cheek before stepping back. And she was just about to return to Will's side again, when an impulse struck her.
JJ turned . . . and before she could stop and think about what she was doing . . . she wrapped her arms around Hotch's waist.
That wasn't something that she'd ordinarily do . . . Hotch wasn't much for hugging . . . but she was just so HAPPY for both of them! And she figured that he'd indulge her just this once. At best she thought she might get a little pat on the back in return. So she couldn't deny how surprised she was to feel his arms come around her in a full embrace. And then he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"We miss you."
And then he squeezed her tightly for two beats before he seemed to remember that he didn't hug. He quickly let her go.
When she looked up, JJ saw that there was a faint flicker of amusement on his face . . . he seemed almost as surprised by his behavior as she was . . . and then he winked.
JJ was so stunned that she almost burst out laughing. It was the first time that she could recall him being so open with her . . . with anyone really. Emily's influence was evident. So she gave him a watery smile while leaning up to kiss his cheek.
"I miss you too," she murmured against his skin, "but I'll be back soon."
And then she quickly pulled away, stepping back to Will again before she started crying.
Though the party was continuing to swirl along around them, for a moment there was silence amongst the four of them. And then Will clapped his hands together.
"Well, we gotta get going."
And the rest of them nodded with murmurs of "right, right," and the moment was broken.
Just before JJ and Will walked away, the women exchanged promises to have the four of them get together soon. Then JJ smiled to herself when she realized that Emily was making plans for Hotch to do things, not only together, but without even discussing it with him first.
Oh yeah . . . her lip quirked up . . . they were pretty far gone.
As they stepped off the dance floor, JJ felt Will poke her gently in the side.
"Baby," he whispered in her ear, "why didn't you tell me that Hotch and Emily were datin'!?"
JJ laughed.
/*/*/*/
Hotch watched the other couple disappear into the crowd before running his hand down Emily's arm.
"I'm glad you straightened things out with JJ."
Emily looked up at him with a sad smile.
"Me too. I was out of line."
And then her smile brightened, and she was about to tell Hotch how proud she was to see him hug JJ all on his own, when suddenly she felt a stab of pain shoot through her temple.
'Jesus CHRIST!'
Seeing the flash of agony on Emily's face, Hotch felt a surge of adrenaline hit his system . . . SHIT!
His fingers pressed into her bicep as he leaned down to catch her eyes.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?!"
There was more than a touch of panic in his question, but under the circumstances he felt that was more than understandable. That was the first time he'd seen that look on her face . . . it was a blinding agony. And it killed him to know that this was still just the beginning.
Things were only going to get worse.
Trying desperately to keep the pain induced tears from spilling over, Emily stared down at the dance floor as she counted to ten . . . and then down to one again.
When she got back to three, the worst of the pain had passed and she slowly lifted her head.
"Yeah," her eyes were glistening when they locked onto Hotch's, "I've just got a little headache."
Her voice was husky, strained with the effort of keeping her emotions from spilling over in such a public arena.
"Little?" Hotch's eyebrow shot up in disbelief at her dismissive answer, "you call that little? You were DOUBLED OVER in pain Emily!"
Seeing her about to open her mouth again, Hotch cut her off with a shake of his head.
"And before you try to say that it wasn't all that bad, I want you to tell me what the rule is about keeping things from each other."
Though his words were gruff, his tone was soft. This was still just the beginning of her illness, and the only way for them to get through this with their relationship intact, was if honesty was a full time project.
They could have no secrets.
"We don't," Emily answered sadly. And Hotch nodded as his hand slid down her arm to squeeze her fingers.
"That's right," he whispered back, "we don't." He tipped his head down to catch her eyes, "now tell me truthfully, how bad is it? And when did it start?"
Seeing the fear on Hotch's face, Emily felt a wave of guilt wash over her for all the stress and worry she was causing him. That's why her first inclination had been to say it was just a little headache. Stupid. Like the man wasn't standing right there with her.
Still though, her intentions had been good . . . even if her actions had been wrong. So she squeezed his hand contritely while whispering back.
"It started maybe fifteen minutes ago, but it really was just a little bit annoying until a minute ago and now it's um," her voice started to get thick as she blinked, trying keep the tears from spilling over, "well, now it hurts."
She'd known that they weren't going to stay that much longer, but now the choice to stay had been taken from her.
Now she had to go.
So when Hotch tipped his head towards the exit she didn't even put up a token argument, really she didn't even have one in her. The din of the party goers and the music from the band was no longer something festive to be enjoyed . . . now it was just noise. A tear slipped down her cheek.
Noise that was making her head hurt.
Still though, as Hotch started leading her to the cloak room she felt a burst of anger and self pity . . . why did this have to happen NOW when the night was almost over anyway?! Why couldn't she get three FRIGGING hours of peace so that she could leave on her own terms?!
Seeing the tears sliding down Emily's face as she scowled at the floor, Hotch felt an ache in his chest and he slipped his arm up and around her shoulders. Appearances were no longer important.
She was hurting and she needed him.
Not only that though, he needed her. He needed her to get better. And he needed her to smile again so that he would know that things would be all right. Because right now things weren't all right . . . he thought bitterly . . . because right now they were, "living with cancer." At least that's what the frigging pamphlet said. And even though he knew that the headaches were part and parcel of living with Emily's particular type of cancer, he still couldn't help the jolt of panic he felt every time she touched her temple.
The cancer was the invisible enemy, but the headaches were something specific to hate. They were the tangible reminder that they were at war with this entity that had invaded her body.
And he just wanted it gone.
But those were childish prayers, and he knew that. Wishes wouldn't make this go away. He needed to deal with this moment, and in this moment his only task was to think of something to make Emily feel better, to take the sting off the fact that she had just been reminded yet again that she was sick. And as they walked by the buffet table on the way to the coat room, a thought popped into his head.
"Hey," he turned his head slightly to whisper in her ear, "if you're feeling up to it how about on the way home we stop for takeout at Red Lobster and you can collect on your shrimp fest? It can be a midnight snack. Or maybe just lunch for tomorrow."
His thought had been that this idea would cheer her up, bring a little smile to her face. But instead he saw her bite her lip as another tear trickled down her face.
Damn it.
His eyes scanned the ballroom, looking for a place where she could cry without strangers watching. Finally spotting a small, discreet hallway half behind a red curtain . . . it probably led back to the kitchen . . . Hotch hurried Emily through the threshold. And then he kept them walking until the noise of the party had faded slightly and they'd reached a relatively private space.
Once they were alone he looked down at Emily's streaming tears.
"I don't want to cry, Aaron," her voice cracked as her hand came up to angrily wipe her face, "it's stupid to cry about a party."
"Sweetheart," Hotch reached out to gently brush the tears away, "we both know that you're not crying about a party." He pressed a kiss to her lips, "but even if you were," he gave her a sad smile, "that's okay too."
And then he pulled her tightly against his body, and just waited. Waited for the tears to stop, waited for her to accept the truth of the moment.
Just waited for her to come back to herself again.
A few minutes later he felt her nod against his chest and he knew that the worst of it had passed. So he continued talking as though there had been no break in the moment.
"So," he rubbed his hand down her back, "we'll stop and pick up some food from Red Lobster, and then when we get home we can cuddle up and watch one of your Christmas movies," he kissed the top of her head, "does that sound good?"
Emily nodded again before she sniffled and whispered back, "yeah, that sounds really good." And knowing how hard Hotch was trying to cheer her up, and how much it bothered him to see her upset, she leaned back to give him a little . . . still slightly watery . . . smile.
"Can we watch Christmas Vacation?"
Chevy Chase wasn't one of Hotch's favorites, but that was one movie that always made her laugh.
She was hoping it would cheer her up.
A dimple slid out as Hotch fixed her smudged mascara.
"Of course, sweetheart, whatever you want."
Then they stared at each other for a moment before she took a breath and he slipped his arm around her waist for the walk back out to the ballroom.
After they'd slipped out from behind the red curtain again, Hotch started digging out their tickets for the coat check. And when they walked up to the counter he felt Emily pat his arm. His eyebrow went up as he looked down at her.
She tipped her head towards the ladies room at the end of the hall.
"I think it would probably be good if I took my pills now, so I'm going to go get some water."
Hotch nodded slowly as he squeezed her hand, "okay, I'll be right here."
When she turned away, he watched worriedly while she walked to the end of the hall with her hand on her temple.
Her head was clearly starting to throb again.
His jaw twitched as he turned back to hand the girl their tickets . . . hopefully the Tylenol and Motrin combo would take care of this headache. Emily was still avoiding taking the new pain pills, and he didn't want that to become a fight when they got home.
He knew that to her mindset, the moment she took the first of the narcotics that she'd be accepting that this disease was starting to take over her life. And she was going to put off that moment as long as possible.
Of course . . . he took their coats back from the girl and slipped her a few ones in return . . . his only concern was whether or not she was in pain.
This disease was going to take over their life whether she took the pills or not.
That was a fact.
When Hotch saw Emily coming back down the hall a few minutes later, he held his hand up to his temple and she nodded as she shook her bag.
Okay . . . he checked his watch . . . she took those at two past ten. If she was still in pain . . . or God forbid her pain was any worse . . . an hour from now, then he was going to push the new pills whether she liked it or not.
But for now he just gave her a little smile as she walked up. Then he helped her slip on her coat, gently lifting her hair out from her collar before her turned her around.
For a moment their eyes were locked and he wanted so badly to kiss her . . . but he kept his lips to himself. They'd be out the door in a minute.
The kiss would keep.
As they started hand in hand across the lobby of the hotel Emily suddenly tugged on Hotch's fingers and he stopped, looking down at her worriedly.
"What's the matter?"
"Can we hold off on the shrimp until next week?" She asked hopefully, "I'd rather get some ice cream instead. Is that okay?"
His eyes crinkled as he pulled her against his side and began walking again.
"Of course, sweetheart," he kissed the top of her head as he guided her into the revolving door.
"Whatever you want."
A/N 2: If you noticed the slight echoing in Will & JJ and Hotch and Emily's dialogue that was deliberate. If you read the Ides of May (and I won't spoil it if you haven't) it's established that during the timeframe of this story, JJ and Will are very much in love. And seeing as they're getting little cameos this time around, and that H/P are already established in love, some comparison in seeing how the other couple relates to one another, in that it's very similar to how H/P relate, is helpful in strengthening a bond that doesn't get as much "on screen" face time simply because they aren't my primary ship :)
The memory of Reid accidentally shredding a stack of JJ's files is from elsewhere in the Girl'verse. Never written live but Reid also made mention of it once upon a time.
As always, thanks to everyone for reading, and the feedback :)