Author's Note: Christmas. This is perhaps not exactly what you were expecting I'd do, but I'll explain at the end why I went this way and not another.

This is Christmas evening opening with Emily.

TV Bonus Challenge #26

Show: Everybody Loves Raymond

Challenge: The Christmas Picture

Late December: Thursday

Reason Number Seventeen

Emily began to yawn as she stopped at the traffic light around the corner from her condo. It was probably her hundredth yawn of the afternoon/evening and she was definitely reaching the point of collapse.

Her exhaustion had come about though, for a few very good reasons.

A) She had cancer, B) she'd just spent four and a half GRUELING hours with her extended family, and C) Jack had woken up her and Hotch at five am to go see what Santa had brought him. And although she was quite sure that A and B on their own would have worn her out, it was C that was really bringing her to her damn knees right now.

Although it went without saying . . . but she was going to say it to herself anyway . . . that she adored Jack, and that she had absolutely wanted to have the whole 'Family Christmas' experience with her two boys, she hadn't really, fully, understood how exhausting it was doing the full family thing on Christmas EVE. Yes, she'd understood that she'd be woken during the wee hours of the pre-dawn for morning festivities, but the EVE stuff, that had not been in the pamphlet.

And that had been the real ass kicker.

There were cookies to mix, then bake, and presents to wrap, and toys to put together, and stockings and cards, and really, it was just a lot of . . . stuff. So much stuff. And it wasn't until she'd finished filling up Jack's stocking . . . which was side point, the most fun ever . . . at Hotch's extremely persistent urging, she'd finally dragged herself off to bed.

That was a little before one am.

Then Hotch, aka Santa, (who'd needed to stay up to finish putting together a bicycle and couple of Hot Wheels racetracks), had followed after her sometime after two. Now ordinarily, Hotch could come and go from bed without waking her up, but unfortunately . . . for both of them . . . she'd been so exhausted when she was undressing that she'd just dropped her clothes in the middle of the bedroom floor. Not a huge obstacle, really, but Hotch . . . who had been operating completely in the dark and on even less sleep than she'd had when she'd gone upstairs . . . had somehow had gotten his foot tangled up. His initial stumble had ended up with him crashing into the closet.

It wasn't so much 'the fall' that had woken her, as the string of profanities which had accompanied it.

And then they were both up for the next twenty minutes while she'd bandaged up the cut he'd gotten over his brow, before she'd run down to get him an ice pack to keep down the swelling.

So basically, putting Christmas itself aside, that portion of the evening was par for the course in the newly christened Hotchner/Prentiss Household. Honestly, screw the cancer, in moments like that . . . the ones where she snaps on the lamp to find her man dazed and bleeding laying in a pile of metal hangers . . . she genuinely believed that her clumsiness was going to be the death of both of them.

But Hotch, absolute sweetie that he was, wasn't even upset over her maiming him, yet again. He'd shaken off her apologies as he'd put the ice pack on the bathroom counter and walked her back to bed. Then he'd turned off the lamp, cuddled her close, and whispered that tomorrow, he was going to go buy a bulk pack of nightlights to plug in around the apartment.

He'd said it was his own fault for trying to walk around in the dark.

Of course they'd both known whose fault it really was, but just for that . . . for being the best guy ever . . . Emily had decided that a middle of the night quickie was the best way to say thanks for (yet again) taking the fall for something that was entirely her fault.

And once that first 'exchanging of gifts' had been completed, it was about three. And then, as was previously stated, Jack barged in at five. So that meant Emily had basically only had about three hours of sleep in total.

Although in the past that would have been 'sufficient' rest to allow her to continue working even through a major case, she was discovering that with her new condition, that amount of sleep was not NEARLY enough to even get through a day which had primarily been spent just sitting around the house.

Her hand came up to cover her mouth again as she pulled away from the light.

Of course Hotch had tried to make her take a nap after present opening, but what with it being their first Christmas and all, she hadn't wanted to miss anything. Therefore she had (foolishly) declined his plea to lie down while he'd made her special pancakes for breakfast.

Yes, she was an idiot.

Because then by the time she had to start getting ready for her parents' annual Christmas dinner at three pm, she'd been so tired that Hotch actually had to help her get dressed. Still though . . . her hand came up to cover her mouth again . . . even with him ironing her silk blouse as he'd pestered her to call and lie that she'd been called into work, she'd insisted on going.

Of course she'd wanted to bail, but it was Christmas. She could not "bail" on Christmas. Not if she didn't want both her mother and her father showing up at her door with an emergency room physician in tow.

So she'd gone.

It was . . . she sighed as she thought back on her evening . . . uncomfortable. She hadn't seen or spoken to her parents since her diagnosis, and as much as she loved them, she really hadn't wanted to see them, or anyone else in her family, on today of all days. Because Christmas was that traditional gathering where everyone "caught up," and she had zero life developments that she was interested in sharing. Just the basics had now become a minefield for her.

Work = chasing serial killers

Love life = just moved in with her boss

Health = inoperable brain tumor

Yeah . . . she slowed for an old woman clearing the crosswalk . . . not one share worthy topic in the bunch! So with all of the traditional small talk items off of her plate, after a quick hug and a kiss and a faux excited, "you look great, have you lost weight?!" to pretty much everyone in the room, she'd just hidden out in the corner hoping nobody would notice her.

A faint pout touched her lips . . . it really had been a sucky afternoon. Yes, with that approach she'd avoided all of the awkward social exchanges, but she'd been so lonely. And as she'd looked around her parents' great room filled to the brim with cousins and aunts and uncles and in-laws all talking and laughing and having a merry old time, all she'd been able to think about was how much she missed Hotch.

Everybody in the room was paired off with their significant other except for her.

And she'd the looks that she gotten from her aunts when she'd said her hellos all alone. The 'oh poor Emily, STILL can't find a man,' looks that she'd been dealing with for the better part of her adult life.

She was sick of them.

And she'd wanted to tell them all to go screw. Because she'd had a man waiting for her at home. A perfect, wonderful, incredibly sweet man who was installing nightlights throughout their home just because she was a world class klutz.

But she couldn't say ant of that.

Obviously she couldn't tell her aunts to go screw on ANY day, but Christmas was not the right day to introduce Hotch to the ENTIRE family. That's why she hadn't brought him. Because it was a given that Emily's mother would not approve of her dating her boss.

Although granted, at this point in her life . . . age, career choice, and life threatening illness all playing a huge part here . . . Emily no longer much gave a shit if her mother did or did not approve of the man that she was one day going to marry. Of course . . . Emily felt a little pang of melancholy as she turned into her apartment complex . . . it would be nice if she did, but she wasn't going to hold her breath there. So although she wasn't necessarily looking for anyone's approval, she wasn't about to listen to any derogatory remarks being made about her relationship, either. Hotch was hands down the finest man that she'd ever known, and their relationship was without a doubt the best thing to ever happen to her personally. Every day that they were together he made her feel loved. And special.

And DELIRIOUSLY happy.

So if her mother made even one slightly negative comment about them being together, things were going to get very ugly. And that was the main reason she was hiding Hotch for just a bit longer. With everything else going on in her life, Emily didn't need any additional stress right now. Beyond that though, she also hadn't wanted to ruin Christmas for the whole family by having a huge fight with her mother in front of everyone. They'd done that enough when she was a teenager.

It was time to be a grownup.

And like every good Catholic grownup knows, the best way to keep peace with your mother through the holidays was to lie through your teeth about every aspect of your personal life.

Emily had just kept with tradition.

So when her mother had taken her coat and asked her how things were, Emily had responded with a straight faced . . . same old same old. And given that things were the same old from say . . . she pulled into her parking spot . . . yesterday, as far as her perspective on her own life, that hadn't technically been a lie.

Okay yes . . . she stifled another yawn as she turned off the car . . . yes, it was. Technicality or not, it was a big fat lie. But for now . . . Emily slipped the key out of the ignition . . . what her mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

With an exhausted huff, Emily slowly climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. Then she hit the locks and started trudging across the parking lot. It wasn't until she'd gotten inside her building, and was standing in front of the elevator bank, that she suddenly flashed on the bag of Christmas presents from her parents.

She'd left them sitting on the back seat.

Emily simultaneously stifled a groan and an eye roll . . . idiot. And even though she knew that Hotch would go out and get them for her, she didn't want to be that dependent on him. Not yet.

Those days were coming soon enough.

So with a weary sigh she turned and started back out to the car again.

She was way too tired for this crap!

/*/*/*/

Six minutes later she stepped out of the elevator car and onto the fourth floor of her apartment building.

Home . . . she blinked to keep her eyes focused . . . finally.

As she started down the hall she shifted through her keys, finding the one to the door with just the touch of her fingers . . . she'd put a little sticker on the end of it. But just as she went to put it in the lock, the door suddenly swung open and Hotch stood in front of her.

"Hello," she said with a tired smile.

"Hi there."

Though Hotch tried to keep the worry out of his greeting, it was a little difficult given how genuinely shocked he was at Emily's appearance.

She looked terrible!

Her lids were half shut, her skin was chalky, and there were deep, black, circles under her eyes. And even though he'd expected her to be exhausted by the time she got home . . . he leaned forward to give her a kiss . . . he really hadn't been expecting her to be this bad! So concern about her physical condition hadn't been the reason that he'd bounded up from the couch when he'd heard her outside the door. No . . . still kissing her, he started tugging her through the doorway . . . it was where she'd been all afternoon which was the worrying thought on his mind.

Her parents.

She'd been a nervous wreck about the Christmas gathering at their house, and he was just hoping that things had gone well. The one text message he'd received from her earlier hadn't been particularly illuminating. It had just said, 'Chef didn't make cream puffs this year. WTF!'

Yeah . . . he slipped her bag off her shoulder . . . not really helpful.

As Hotch pulled her into the apartment . . . simultaneously taking her presents from her hand and her purse from shoulder . . . Emily began to chuckle against his lips. Then when he dropped the bags onto the floor and started unbuttoning her coat, she pulled back, her fingers coming up to brush through his hair as she laughed.

"Wow," she said as he pushed the door shut with his hip, "this is quite the full service door greeting. It's like it's nineteen fifty-two and I have a penis." Her eyebrow quirked up.

"Where's my martini?"

"Probably back in nineteen fifty-two with your penis," Hotch responded drily as he finished unbuttoning her coat. At her snort, his expression softened and he paused with his hand on her shoulder.

"So how did it go?"

He'd really wanted to be there for her today, so he'd just hated having to send her off to that dinner party alone. Not only was she was keeping him from her parents, but she was also keeping the cancer from them too. A live-in boyfriend AND a life threatening illness were two huge secrets for anyone to keep, let alone a woman who hated to lie as much as Emily did. And the first time that she responded to any inquiry as to how she was doing with a "fine," then she was already telling a whopper.

He figured the afternoon had probably gone downhill from there.

And the fact that Emily was now staring at the floor rather than answering the question he'd asked, told him that his supposition had probably been correct. So he reached out and gently lifted her chin.

She was chewing her lip.

They stared at each other for a moment before he blinked and reached up to slip her coat from her shoulders. Ordinarily he won any and all staring contests, but he could see how tired she was. And that meant she needed a minute to collect her thoughts.

Emily dipped her shoulder down slightly as Hotch helped her off with her coat. Then she sighed . . . best to start with the bad stuff first. So she started with the one thing that she knew would freeze him in his tracks.

"I got another headache . . ."

And as she'd expected, Hotch immediately cut in as he stopped what he was doing to look down at her.

"Another bad one?"

Christ, they were coming more and more these days. At least one a day now, usually two.

"No," Emily starting chewing her lip again as she looked up at him, "well, not too bad. I mean, not compared to some of the others I've had lately. It wasn't as bad as the one the other night at the party. But everything was so noisy that I had to get out of the drawing room for a bit and then," she stumbled for a second, "my dad came looking for me and I had to lie and tell him I was fine. But I could see that he didn't believe me and then he started asking more questions . . ." her voice faded slightly, "he asked if I was sick."

Seeing Hotch's eyes widen slightly she nodded. "I know," she cleared her throat, "and I know that he didn't mean it that way, but as soon as he said it I just had this horrible panic attack and I ended up blurting out something I didn't mean to blurt out."

Hotch's eyebrow slowly inched up. "And what was that?"

Given the continual lip chewing, he had a feeling that 'the blurt' had something to do with him. And if she was that nervous about telling him, then it was unlikely to have been something good.

"Um," she winced slightly, "that we were living together."

Telling her parents about her new living arrangements had NOT been on the To Do list for that day. She hadn't planned on bringing Hotch up at all! Yes, in the short term she was going to mention that she was seeing someone, and her father would have immediately deduced it was her boss, but even then she hadn't planned on confirming his identity, or mentioning that he'd moved in with her, for quite some time.

Months really.

Though her parents were of course quite worldly in their experiences, they were also old school Catholics who still ate fish on Fridays. So in that respect . . . the living together without benefit of marriage respect . . . they were both fairly conservative. So she had hoped that they wouldn't know about Hotch's change of address until well after he'd put a ring on her finger. And she could tell from the look on Hotch's face that he had hoped for that as well.

Crap.

Hotch's eyes popped.

"You told your father that we moved in together?!"

There was a slightly unmanly squeak there at the end, but Emily's father scared the SHIT out of him! The man operated on a whole different plane of interrogation techniques than he did. Not to mention that the ones he'd initially been trained in, had since been banned by several international treaties!

This was not a man who you wanted pissed off at you!

"I know," Emily pouted as she reached out to touch Hotch's cheek, "I know, I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't mean to, I just panicked. He could tell I was keeping a secret, and you know I am actually keeping a couple, and that was the big one that slipped out. Really though," her eyes crinkled slightly at the worried brow of her normally unflappable man, "it's okay. He's not going to do anything to you. He actually took it much better than I'd thought he would. After I assured him that I wasn't pregnant . . ."

"Pregnant!" Hotch interjected in horror, "why did he think you were PREGNANT?!"

This just got better and better! A man who he'd never met, a man who's reputation very much proceeded him, who only knew Aaron Hotchner as his daughter's boss, thought that he was not only living with his only daughter, but had apparently KNOCKED her up! Two things that Hotch knew from Emily's stories about her parents, were really not going to go over well at all!

God, by the time he actually met the man he was going to have to wear a bulletproof vest and a cup!

"Yes, yes," Emily tried to smooth over the pregnancy question, "but that was just a little misunderstanding that I cleared up right away, nothing to worry about there. Really, like I said, it went okay. After I told him he was quiet for a second, and then he just asked if I was happy," a sad smile touched her lips, "and if you treated me well, and when I told him very much, and much better than I deserve, he asked when he could meet you. I said soon, and that was the end of the conversation."

After that they'd talked about her mother for a bit, but nothing had been covered there that she and Hotch hadn't already discussed themselves. Really, Emily just wished that she hadn't lied about the stupid headache to begin with. Her father had known a lie was coming out of her mouth before she'd even finished the pause for effect nose wrinkle that had accompanied it.

Those gatherings had always given her a headache, so the fact that she'd tried to lie about how badly she was feeling TODAY had immediately put him on alert. Then when he'd asked if she was sick, he'd reached out and felt her forehead. And seeing how worried he was over what he'd thought was a little bug, her eyes had immediately started to tear up. Seeing that reaction from him then had reminded her yet again exactly why it was that she couldn't tell him about the cancer.

It would break his heart.

But of course the second he'd seen that she was about to start crying in the middle of the party, he'd pulled her up and whisked her out of the room. And she'd held no chance of keeping all of her secrets from him during the private one on one interrogation in the library. Hence the inadvertent disclosure of her new housemate.

Aka throwing Hotch under the bus.

Hotch looked down warily at Emily. "You're sure he wasn't angry? He's not going to pop in this week for a surprise visit?"

'To rip off my testicles,' he added to himself.

"No," Emily shook her head, "definitely not angry and definitely no pop-ins. Not even the chance of one for long awhile. I found out today that both my mother and father are leaving for Japan this weekend, so my dad won't even be around to pop-in for at least a month," she paused for a moment before shrugging, "and I don't know, maybe by the time they get home I'll be ready to have the conversation with my mother."

She knew she couldn't put that one off forever. Especially not now that her father knew. It was unfair of her to expect him to keep that big a secret from his wife. But really, the timing of their trip couldn't have worked out better for Emily. She wasn't ready to talk to her mother today, and she'd be under no obligation to see or talk to her at all for the next four to five weeks.

It was perfect.

That was just the timeframe where she'd be getting adjusted to her treatment. And then they'd come home, Emily would work in a quick (brief) dinner . . . maybe with the four of them, maybe not . . . and then they'd go back to their separate lives as they usually did. By the time the next major holiday rolled around (Easter), Emily would hopefully have completed her radiation treatment by then and be on the mend. And if she wasn't . . . she swallowed . . . if things took a turn, then she'd just beg off Easter dinner for work reasons. Really though . . . she stifled another yawn . . . she was sure she'd be better by spring.

She just had to keep a positive outlook.

And as long as she had this man right in front of her . . . Hotch tossed her coat over his shoulder . . . then everything would be okay.

"That sounds like a good idea, sweetheart," Hotch brushed her hair back behind her ear, "less secrets, less stress." He gave her a sad smile, "that's why . . ."

And he paused, realizing he was about to bring up Emily's least favorite topic of conversation . . . telling her parents about the cancer. As far as she was concerned that topic was closed. And although he still considered it very much open, either way it wasn't anything that he wanted to broach again today.

It was still too soon.

So instead he smoothly finished his sentence with, ". . . I'm going to run you a bath, and make you some tea." His lip quirked up slightly, "how's that sound?"

Of course he had been planned to do that anyway, but it was also a good misdirection for his near faux pas.

Emily gave Hotch a sleepy smile as he walked over to the coat closet.

"That sounds like reasons fifteen and sixteen that you're my favorite person on the planet."

"Fifteen and sixteen, huh," Hotch called over his shoulder as he slipped out a hanger, "I'd think that bath thing would rank a little higher on the list."

His girl really did love a good bath.

"Well," Emily smiled over at him, "it's a pretty competitive list." And Hotch huffed slightly as he walked back to her, "is it now?"

He always loved to hear her unique brand of logic.

"It is," she answered as he slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Actually," she leaned her head on his chest, "a month ago the bath would have fallen into the top five, but since then," she tipped her head back to smirk up at him, "you've added a WHOLE other list of special activities that I very much enjoy. In fact," she sighed, "I really should have put out a favorite things list like Oprah does every Christmas."

Then her face started to get a bit warm as she started running down some of the items in her top ten. "On second thought," she scrunched up her nose, "maybe not. I'd have to call Larry Flynt for publishing."

Hotch chuckled as he started helping her up the staircase.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to leave that one to Oprah then."

"Guess so," Emily mused sleepily as they walked up the steps.

Though she loved bantering with Hotch, she was really getting to the stage that she was too tired to talk. It was barely even eight, but all she could think about was that bath and bed. And as soon as they stepped over the threshold into their bedroom, she began to yawn again.

It was partly psychological but that bed did look really, really . . . her brow wrinkled as she caught sight of something sticking out from under her pillow . . . inviting.

"Honey," she pointed to the object in question, "what's that?"

It wasn't there when she was getting dressed earlier.

"Ah," Hotch walked Emily over and sat her down on the mattress, "that is something that Santa left for you but you forgot to open this morning."

Actually "Santa" had deliberately not put it out because he hadn't known how the afternoon with her parents would go. He'd wanted to save something for her to open in case she was miserable when she got home.

Emily's lips started to twitch as she reached over to slide out the box.

"Well, perhaps if Santa hadn't been hiding presents under my pillow like he was the Tooth Fairy, then I might have found it this morning."

"Actually, sweetheart," Hotch responded matter of factly as he pushed up Emily's skirt to unzip her thigh high boot, "it's common knowledge that Santa occasionally moonlights as the Tooth Fairy in his off season. So you really shouldn't disparage the man's present stashing techniques." He looked up at her with a smirk, "it makes you look ignorant."

And then he yanked off her boot and tossed it behind him.

Emily's eyebrow rose up as she looked down at Hotch in amusement, "ignorant, huh? Ordinarily you know you'd pay for a dig like that, but today," she lightly shook the box as he started tugging off the second boot, "you're lucking out, because I'm tired, and I have a present to open."

The box was completely the wrong size and shape to be a ring. Not that she was expecting a ring today . . . she slipped off the silver bow as he dropped the second boot to the floor . . . or really anytime soon. They'd already made their commitment to each other that day in the hospital . . . she slid her finger under the corner piece of paper . . . so the rest of the 'conventional' developments in their relationship could, and should, wait until she was well.

She didn't want that part of her future to be swirled together with this part of her present.

That said . . . she tore back the paper . . . she was very curious what this could be. Hotch's big expensive present to her had been that beautiful dress he'd bought her for the party. And then this morning she'd awoken to find a pile of gifts under the tree that had rivaled Jack's. Among many other little things, he'd given her a white cashmere sweater, a calf skin holster for her pistol, and three new pairs of fun pajamas to add to her collection. So really, as she pulled back the tissue paper, she couldn't even imagine what else he'd . . . tears sprang to her eyes . . . bought.

"Oh, Aaron!" She bit her lip as she lifted out the black lattice frame, "I love it!"

It was a picture of her boys. A picture that she herself had taken at Jack's birthday party, and Hotch had apparently slipped off of her camera without her knowing.

Her finger traced over the matching dimples in the image before her.

"You said I couldn't print this one out," she whispered as a tear ran down her cheek, "you said that nobody else could see it."

Not that she EVER would have shown anyone else. Not with Hotch wearing a cone shaped SpongeBob party hat.

A picture like that would have a bounty on it at the Academy.

"Yeah, well," Hotch reached up to wipe the drop of moisture from her cheek, "I know it makes you happy so," he half shrugged, half rolled his eyes, "I figured what the hell."

God help him if the picture ever got around to the office. He'd never live it down. After Emily had snapped it, he'd threatened her with extra paperwork for a month if she ever showed it to anyone else. But then last week when she'd had one of her bad headaches, he'd noticed her looking over her scrapbook.

It seemed to make her feel better.

And he knew that she was going to have harder days coming, so he thought that on maybe one of those days, this would be the picture that cheered her up.

Emily placed the frame on the bed as she leaned down to give Hotch a kiss. He met her halfway, and then afterwards he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing his head on her lap. For a moment she just ran her fingers through his hair, then she leaned down slightly to whisper in his ear.

"Reason number seventeen."

"I love you too sweetheart," Hotch murmured back, "but," he tipped his head back and looked up at her hopefully, "do you think that maybe we could hang it in the bedroom?"

Her eyes shifted over to the picture of the cone on top of his head. She began to chuckle.

"Deal!"

A/N 2: Stepping back Inside the Fic Writer's Studio, I had SUCH a horrible time trying to figure this one out! I had expected to do a big fluffy, Jack/Santa centered Christmas chapter that many of you thought I might do, but it wouldn't come. I kept trying (3 half assed drafts) and I just couldn't do it. Not that they didn't have a happy Christmas morning, they did, I just couldn't write it. Fluffy Christmas just felt wrong as a punch point for the story. So I was at a complete loss as to what to do instead and I was getting genuinely pissed off that I'd hit such an unexpected road block (I'd thought the holiday chapter would be easy) so I tried to step back and picture how Christmas Day would have gone sequentially, to find another entry point into the day. Moving past the morning routine, I realized that at some point Emily needed to make an appearance at her parents. As soon as that popped into my head I started seeing the REAL focus of the day . . . how she was hiding this huge secret from her mother and father. That was something I could sink my teeth into! Even if the disclosure of her illness hadn't already been written at a later date in this tale, (and I am satisfied with that disclosure) clearly she wasn't going to tell them what was happening ON Christmas day, so there was actually some tension and drama there. Finally! Then I got stuck again :) I actually wrote the dinner party "live" but then kept getting bored with my own ending (never a good sign) so I finally scooped the relevant bits out, decided to do it as a narrative flashback solely from Em's POV and started from scratch. A chapter that had taken me three months to NOT write, in the end I was able to pull together in four days. Such is the way these things go. And I now have like 5 pages of a Prentiss family gathering collecting dust. I'm hoping I can find a place in Second Chances to recycle it :)

And if anyone was expecting a ring for Christmas, sorry. That's another element already addressed to my satisfaction in the original Hours draft and I didn't want to mess with it here. Also though, for the reasons I had Em articulate, it's not the right time for it. They know where they stand with each other, and that's enough for them for right now.

Thanks all!