Author's Note: Direct pickup.

The Moments In The Desert

Emily's yell cut through Hotch like a knife.

He spun around and started racing across the sand, all the while trying to keep his panic from bubbling over, because her getting bitten by something out here was his WORST case scenario for this case! And here it had already happened on day ONE!

"What was it?!" he asked frantically as he ran up, reaching out to grab her shoulder. "What bit you?!"

Emily's head snapped up as she furiously scratched the red welt forming on the back of her hand.

"I don't know! I smacked at it and now it's gone!"

Her panicked gaze dropped to the desert floor . . . then her eyes popped when she suddenly realized what had bitten her.

A red ant.

Now she could see dozens of them pouring out of the ground and scurrying up her leg.

"SHIT!" She cursed while jumping out of the hole she'd inadvertently stepped into. And then in a slight frenzy she began scrubbing at the little lines of red soldiers marching up her boot and onto her jeans.

But then she started to genuinely panic when she realized how many there were.

"Oh God, Hotch! Get them OFF me!"

Yes, she was freaking out, and yes she needed to CALM the fuck down! But first she needed to get these God damn ants OFF of her body! She knew that the one fire ant bite shouldn't hurt her or the baby, but she had no desire to find out what would happen to either of them if she was swarmed.

And that's what was happening right now.

"STOP!" Hotch yelled as he pushed Emily's hands away from the insects, "Emily, stop! Don't touch them! I'll get it!"

Fire ants . . . his jaw clenched as he began frantically brushing them off her jeans . . . just fucking great. And he could tell from the grimace on Emily's face, that the bite on her hand hurt as much as he'd heard they did, but he also knew that if she was going to get bitten by anything out here, fire ants were the best of an otherwise HORRIFICALLY bad list of options. And he knew this because he'd spent almost an hour of their five hour flight researching every likely creature or plant that they could stumble across in this particular desert, and then the degree of danger that particular flora or fauna could pose to an otherwise healthy woman with child.

That slight bit of preparation was the only way he was going to keep his sanity on this trip. And he had learned that ONE fire ant bite . . . and thank God it appeared to be just the one . . . shouldn't cause any actual harm to Emily or the baby. Not unless she had an allergic reaction, and she didn't appear to be showing any signs of anaphylaxis, so basically the little bastards just hurt.

But hopefully the pain would start to fade as soon as they got the bite cleaned up.

So once Hotch had triple checked that all of the little red insects had been wiped from Emily's clothing . . . quietly cursing as he got two of his own matching bites in the process . . . he straightened up and took Emily's hand in his. Then he gently ran his thumb around the edges of the bright red wound.

"Does it hurt much?" He asked softly as his gaze lifted to hers.

Hotch was just thanking whatever deity watched over them, that she'd remembered to tuck her jeans into her boots today. That and the layers she'd worn to ward off the desert chill, had kept pretty much all of them off of her skin.

It was probably just a scout that had scurried onto her hand.

"Probably as much as yours does," Emily replied with a pained smile. Then she huffed as her fingers ghosted around the similar wounds on the side of his hand.

"I really don't think we're desert folk, Aaron."

Although Emily was trying to lighten the mood . . . and keep the emotion out of her voice . . . in actuality she was on the verge of tears. As Hotch had removed the ants from her clothing, she'd slowly begun to calm down. She was okay. The baby was okay . . . Hotch was okay. Everything was good. And initially that was all that mattered to her. But then her mind started to process a different scenario.

A much worse one.

This was wild country. Anything could pop up at anytime. That's when she realized that she could have easily been bitten by a scorpion, or a spider.

Or even a snake.

Yes . . . her stomach clenched as she pictured that scenario . . . the odds were just as good that she could have put her boot into a snake hole as an ant hole. To her completely untrained eye, all of these little nooks and crannies out here looked exactly the same. And their baby wouldn't have stood a chance if Emily had just taken a shot of venom from a North American rattlesnake. After all, she was still only in her first trimester.

She probably would have lost Hotchkin.

Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach at that . . . not at all unlikely scenario . . . all Emily wanted to do was take Hotch and go home.

Just go back to Virginia and stay there.

God . . . her eyes started to sting as she stared down at her hand in his . . . how was she going to keep working in her condition? This was of course a question that she'd asked of herself when she'd first found out she was pregnant, but back then she hadn't truly considered . . . or anticipated . . . all of the myriad dangers of her job. Back then, mere weeks ago, she was just worried about the UNSUBs. The tackling, the car chases, the knives and the guns.

But she could avoid those things.

Or at least she could avoid placing herself directly into the worst of those situations. Even though she was technically still fully functional for all grades of field work . . . and she truly had not wanted to be benched . . . Hotch had been making a point of finding something a bit safer for her to do, like coordinate ops communication, while he and Morgan and Dave took physical point with the entry teams.

So although she was still in the field . . . still in the game . . . it was unlikely that she'd be taking any roundhouse kicks to the gut anytime soon.

Like Morgan had just last week.

So in that respect . . . as it related to her duties in the field . . . thus far things had been going just fine. And because Hotch did have control over her assigned duties, it had actually been easier working with the father of her child than she might have thought it would be.

Until today of course.

But now, with this new . . . previously unforeseen . . . danger, she was seeing not only a new set of problems for herself, but also for Hotch. She could see how hard this was for him having her out here.

And by extension how bad having her out here was for their whole team dynamic.

Because she knew from the intensity of Hotch's gaze, in the way that he was running his thumb along her wrist long passed the point where he should have let her go, that when she'd screamed for him, in that moment he had ceased being her chief. Now he was the man that shared her bed for more than half the week.

Now he was Hotchkin's daddy.

And that was a real problem. Because right now he couldn't be Hotchkin's daddy. They were in the middle of a crime scene, there were local law enforcement not thirty feet away watching to see what the almighty feds were doing with their psychic powers . . . and here she and Hotch were having a moment. A very unprofessional . . . her heart ached as she saw the raw emotion in his eyes . . . unbelievably sweet and loving moment, that they absolutely should not be having right now! It was wrong.

And she knew that Hotch knew it too.

And for a moment when she saw his jaw start to twitch, she felt a cold stab of fear, believing that he was going to say the one thing that she was most terrified of hearing.

I don't think this relationship is going to work.

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue, stayed there. Instead his expression softened ever so slightly as he let go of her wrist. Then he moved his hand up to her shoulder, turned, and began guiding her back towards the SUV.

"Forensics will be here soon," Hotch said softly, "they can finish up. You and I are going to the base clinic at China Lake."

Relatively innocuous bite or not, she needed to be checked out ASAP.

Momentarily putting her relationship worries aside for another jolt of physical panic, Emily's head snapped up to look at Hotch.

"But it was just one fire ant. And I thought we agreed that the site said one bite wasn't dangerous?"

Did he know something else that he hadn't shared with her last night?

"Yes," Hotch didn't break stride as he tried to keep his tone even, "that's what it said. But I'm not about to risk your health, or Hotchkin's. based on my forty-five minutes of crash course desert review, only perhaps five of which maybe I spent reading up on the ant bites. What if I missed something?"

Feeling Emily's entire body tense up at his response . . . at the fear that the bite was possibly harmful and that the baby could be in danger . . . Hotch winced at his lack of tact. And wishing he could pull her into a hug, and knowing that was out of the question, he settled for lightly squeezing her shoulder in an effort to calm her nerves.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered softly as they approached the group of officers, "I'm not trying to scare you. And I'm really not that concerned about the toxicity of the bite, I'm just being cautious. Given the terrain, the doctors around here have to be de facto experts on these things, so I'd rather have one of them tell us live and in person that everything's perfectly fine, rather than us just assuming it is based on a website link. Doesn't that make much more sense?"

He didn't want to unnecessarily frighten her . . . the stress wasn't good for her or the baby . . . but he also knew that there was no way in hell that he'd be able to focus on anything else until the two of them had been checked out, and he was sure that she and Hotchkin would suffer no ill effects from that bite.

"Yeah," Emily bit her lip, calming slightly at his logic as they walked up to the yellow tape, "yeah, you're right. That makes much more sense."

Hotch's argument was sound . . . his arguments were always sound. And although that in and of itself made her feel better . . . just knowing how capable he was, and that he focused so much of his attention now on caring for her and the baby . . . it also, in an unexpected way, made her feel worse about the situation. It wasn't fear for her health, but instead a wave of inadequacy that washed over her.

It was the second time that she'd felt this way in the past twelve hours.

The first time had been last night when Hotch had shown up at her cabin after the team meeting and told her about all of the research that he'd done on the plane. Then as he'd settled in on the bed with his case notes, he'd passed her his laptop and told her to review the bookmarks he'd tagged so she'd know what to watch out for in the desert. And even though his gesture had been a loving and sweet one . . . and she'd told him as such when she gave him a thank you kiss . . . all she could think as she'd pulled away from him was, 'why hadn't she thought to do that?'

Why didn't she do ANY research on the plane?

Really, until that moment when Hotch had handed her the laptop, it hadn't even occurred to Emily to worry about a trip to the desert beyond the snakes. That was her personal phobia, and that was the one thing that had popped into her mind when she'd heard that they were going to Death Valley.

Snakebites.

But Hotch had looked far beyond that one danger to anticipate . . . and painstakingly research . . . all of the others. And that quality in him, that single minded focus he displayed in how he took care of her and their unborn child, was one of the reasons that she was falling in love with him. And that was just one of the reasons that she knew he was going to make such a great father when their baby was finally born.

But what kind of parent was she going to be?

She wrapped her arms around herself as they walked up to the sheriff . . . she just didn't know. There was still so much she needed to learn. Ways that she needed to expand her mind. To start thinking not just about herself . . . as she had as a motherless, petless, singleton for the last thirty-nine years . . . but also now her little emerging family. Her thoughts, basically her general outlook on the world, needed to now be what was best for all three of them. Not just what was best for her.

And that was a major shift of self.

So as she stood there outwardly patient as Hotch explained to the sheriff that they were leaving, inwardly she was wondering if she was up to this momentous task that he seemed to have taken on with such ease.

She was almost jealous.

But then she reminded herself that Hotch wasn't new to this life. After all this time, with twenty years of marriage, and three years of fatherhood, looking after a family had to be second nature to him. So maybe it was just going to take her a little longer to adjust . . . she rubbed at her bite nervously . . . but hopefully by the time Hotchkin was born she'd have gotten the hang of all this family stuff.

Hopefully.

After all, she wasn't a stupid person, and she was basically a thoughtful, caring human being, so she just needed to start being a bit more aware of things beyond this little shell that she'd always lived within. Really . . . she stepped away from Hotch and the sheriff as they started discussing logistics for patrols that day . . . she just needed to start breaking down the shell completely. She needed to start living her life with Hotch . . . she started walking towards the SUV . . . not just as a couple building a relationship, but as a parental unit building a family. Because that's clearly how Hotch was already approaching this situation . . . as a de facto husband and father.

And that's why he was always two steps ahead of her.

Okay . . . she swallowed hard as she stopped by the black Suburban . . . she could do this. If he could be a good (responsible) dad this early on, then she could be a good mom too . . . she turned to face Hotch walking across the sand . . . she just had to try harder. She could stay in the field, keep Hotchkin safe, and still make things work with Hotch.

She could.

Okay . . . she felt a trickle of doubt rise up . . . that was a lot to pull together when she had zero experience with being a mom, or ever having a successful long term relationship. But she wanted this family more than anything. Hotch was her guy, she was sure of it. She had a connection with him that she'd never had with anyone else before. He was the one who she was supposed to find, and he was the one who was supposed to father her baby.

This was all meant to be.

So as he walked up to the SUV with the keys dangling from his hand, she reached out and took them.

"I'll drive," she said with a tight smile, "you call the base and get us cleared to get into the clinic."

Again, she was going to make this work. And that meant that their personal situation . . . the one which necessitated them stopping a serial murder investigation so she could go get a bug bite cleaned out . . . needed to be handled as professionally and efficiently as possible. And non military personnel asking to have relatively minor wounds dressed in a Navy clinic, was a general breach of protocol that they needed smoothed over quickly. As federal agents investigating the death of one of their sailors, they'd get some consideration at China Lake. But Hotch's rank would get them the through the red tape much more quickly than hers would.

She'd get the XO, Hotch would get the CO.

Hotch stared at Emily for a moment before he tipped his head slightly.

"Right."

Instinctively he wanted to tell her no, he'd drive, she should rest . . . but that was stupid. She had a bug bite. Whereas he had two of them and they were BOTH throbbing like they had their own God damn pulse! So of the pair, barring his personal concerns about the baby's condition, Emily was likely in the better physical shape at the moment.

She was certainly in less physical pain anyway.

So Hotch knew that he again needed to push their intimate relationship aside and just pretend things were like they used to be.

Back when she wasn't becoming his whole world.

So he circled around to the passenger side, already pulling out his phone as he climbed into the SUV. And as Emily slipped the keys into the ignition he was scrolling through his contacts to pull up the number that he'd called repeatedly over the last few weeks.

Commander Eastman.

He hit the number as Emily did a U-Turn heading back in the direction they'd come from earlier that morning. And as the Commander's voice came into Hotch's ear asking if there was any news on Petty Officer Doolittle, he reached over with his good hand to tangle his fingers with Emily's.

Just because he knew that he needed to pretend like things were like they used to be, didn't mean that he wouldn't take these few minutes alone to reassure . . . both of them . . . that the baby was all right. And as the SUV sped down the road, Hotch took a breath.

"Yes sir, there is news, and I'll be stopping by your office shortly to brief you. But also Commander," Hotch's fingers tightened around Emily's, "I need to ask a favor."

/*/*/*/

Hotch paced anxiously back and forth in the small waiting area of the navy clinic.

A few minutes ago the nurse had finished cleaning out his bites and putting Neosporin on his hand. Then as she'd walked him back out front she'd handed him an ice pack, telling him to hold it there until the swelling went down.

He'd held it there for about thirty seconds . . . the length of time it took for the nurse to disappear back down the hallway . . . and then it had fallen onto one of the plastic waiting room chairs. Really, he felt fine . . . well, much better than he had when he'd first gotten bitten . . . and the swelling was minimal so the freezing cold ice pack was basically just pissing him off.

And he was pissed off enough already.

Because they wouldn't tell him what was happening with Emily. Not that he thought they were keeping something from him . . . he anxiously made another turn across the freshly waxed floor . . . it was just that her exam was taking three times longer than his had taken.

And that was scaring the shit out of him!

And maybe if he could have told these nice people who were just doing their jobs that Agent Prentiss was actually his girlfriend and that was his baby, then they might have been giving his anxiety here just a slight bit more consideration. As it was, at best, he was just ranked as her work partner.

Work partners did not have HIPAA privileges.

Also, the general staff working obviously didn't know that Emily was pregnant. They just knew that two of the FBI agents investigating Petty Officer Doolittle's disappearance . . . her murder was yet unannounced . . . had run into a nest of fire ants out in the desert. And neither of them were in respiratory distress, so really nobody had been all that concerned about them when they'd walked in the door. Hell, Hotch hadn't even seen a doctor! Just the one nurse.

Emily had been sent in to see a doctor though. He knew that much.

But that was it.

And now Hotch's desert panic was creeping up again. The nurse had finished up with him almost ten minutes ago. So how long should it really be taking for the doctor to finish checking over Emily? If everything was okay, then it seemed like she'd be in and out.

Right?

"Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch spun around as he heard his name being called from across the waiting room.

"What is it?" He hurried over to the nurse who had taken Emily to the other exam room, "is Agent Prentiss all right?!"

Yes, the worry was apparent in his tone, and at the moment he was okay with that.

"Agent Prentiss is just fine," the nurse responded with a little smile, "but she's asking for you. So," the woman put her arm up, "right down the hall there. Third door. The doctor's still in there, but you can go right in."

The woman hadn't even finished getting the words out of her mouth before Hotch was nodding and moving passed her.

"Thank you," he called back over his shoulder as he hurried down the short hallway, pausing to knock once on the door before he poked his head around the corner.

"Emily?" Hotch's eyes widened when he saw her lying on the exam table, "is everything all right?"

Just because the nurse had said it was, didn't mean that he'd believed it.

Hearing the undercurrent of worry in Hotch's tone, and knowing that he'd likely been having an internal panic attack waiting to see her, as Emily turned her head, she made sure to give him a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay, Aaron. Captain Nichols already cleaned up my hand," she raised it to show him the bandage, "and checked all my vitals. But he thought that given the stress of the morning, that maybe we should check the baby."

She put her hand out and wriggled her fingers.

"So come here," she gestured to the monitor, "because Hotchkin's about to make his, slash hers television debut in the great state of Nevada," her lip quirked up, "and I thought you might like to be here for that."

She was actually positive that he'd want to be there for that, because he'd already told her that he wanted to be there for everything. And given how awful this case was, there was no way that she'd deny him the opportunity for this little bit of normalcy in the middle of hell.

But as Emily saw Hotch's eyes widen slightly in alarm, she realized what his worry now was . . . being outed. Especially given that they were working a case at this same base. So she gestured towards the doctor as her eyes shot to the end of the table.

"Don't worry. The captain has already assured me that our secret is safe with him right, doctor?"

"Right," the captain nodded firmly as he tipped his head towards Emily, "so come on in, Agent Hotchner."

Ideally, Hotch's status as the baby's father wouldn't have been disclosed today, but as soon as the nurse had come in . . . with an amused smile . . . to tell Emily that her colleague was pacing a hole in the floor, their little secret had obviously been blown. The doctor had huffed in amusement before asking Emily if she'd like "dad" to come down for the rest of their conversation. Emily had immediately said yes, but asked if they could please consider both her condition, and their relationship, a private matter.

The captain and the lieutenant had both agreed. The captain assuring her that as she and Hotch weren't military, he had no obligations to report any chain of command issues.

Their business was their business and their secret was safe with them.

Emily had breathed a sigh of relief. Granted, these people were unlikely to be talking to anybody back home, but they might still end up having an interview with somebody else on the team . . . somebody on the clinic might have known Doolittle . . . and dear God would that have been a DISASTER, if somebody had spilled the beans then!

Now though . . . Hotch shot her a look as he crossed the room . . . Emily was sure that their secret would stay safe. And that meant that as she slipped her hand into Hotch's, that she could think of no earthly reason that he shouldn't be with her for this part of the exam.

Again . . . his fingers curled around hers . . . it was his baby too.

Hotch squeezed Emily's hand as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "you're sure that you're feeling okay?"

Though he knew it was a bit rude to be whispering in front of the doctor, he didn't much care to have a personal discussion with his girlfriend in front of anybody.

Emily nodded as she whispered back.

"I promise Aaron, I feel just fine. And my hand hardly hurts at all now." Then her voice went up slightly, "plus the doctor said that it's just like you thought, one bite won't cause the baby any harm."

Seeing his opening, Captain Nichols nodded as Agent Hotchner turned his way.

"Yes, that is correct, Agent Hotchner. Your baby shouldn't suffer any ill effects from that bite. But," he picked up the wand, "I understand that the whole event was a bit stressful for mom, so we're just doing a quick sonogram to make sure everything's tip top. So," he pointed to the stool behind Emily's head, "why don't you grab a seat and we'll take a look here."

As the doctor picked up the gel, and Emily lifted up the bottom of her shirt, feeling slightly dazed, Hotch reached over to grab the stool.

He felt like he was having an out of body experience. He and Emily had just come from a terrible crime scene . . . the horrific murder of a young mother . . . and now here they were in the plane of domesticity, about to see their own child for the first time.

Surreal didn't even begin to cover it.

Emily's first sonogram was actually scheduled for next week, but now . . . Hotch's jaw clenched slightly as the doctor placed the gel on Emily's stomach . . . here they were. And as he sat there watching as the doctor turned on the monitor, and then turned back to press the wand down on Emily's abdomen, Hotch had a moment of . . . he wasn't quite sure what it was.

But he really wished that he wasn't having it in this medical clinic out in the middle of the desert.

Emily again slipped her hand into Hotch's, tugging him back down slightly so she could whisper in his ear.

"If he asks, did you want to find out the sex yet?"

Given the impending sonogram, this was a conversation that she'd been planning on having with Hotch this weekend. But her little incident in the desert had just pushed up that timetable. She really didn't want to know, but she didn't want to ruin the moment for him if he did.

Again, their baby . . . not just hers.

Hotch's expression softened as he looked down at Emily's worried brow.

"I like surprises," he whispered back.

Actually he hated surprises (for obviously reasons) in pretty much all aspects of his work life, but when it came to finding out the sex of his children . . . he was okay with waiting. And he could tell from the way that Emily was biting her lip . . . she didn't want to know. And sure enough, the words had barely passed his lips before her eyes lit up.

"Me too," she said softly. And as Emily's warm breath touched his skin, Hotch had to resist the desire . . . urge, need, all of those verbs had started running together now . . . to lean down and kiss her. Although for most people, this was a perfectly acceptable place to show affection, it wasn't for them.

They were still on duty.

And considerations for that had to be made. So holding her hand would have to suffice . . . he felt a stab of guilt and regret as her eyes locked with his . . . he'd make it up to her later.

Emily's gaze fell away from Hotch's, down to the table, and then back to the doctor still fiddling with the knobs. She felt Hotch squeeze her fingers as she sent up a silent prayer for the baby to be just fine. Then she slowly let out her breath.

"Ready when you are, Captain."

A/N 2: Not really a major cliffhanger there, but still a good point to cut the scene. I think I said that I'm trying not to box myself in with this story (it'll stress me out if I do) because it's kind of "Girl Take 2," in that it's them from the beginning of their relationship, to the point of an event. Hotchkin's birth. So as we learned from Girl Proper, letting it take as long as it takes is ultimately the more gratifying approach. Therefore we'll be moving to the nitty gritty of what I'd planned for this arc next chapter. This ended up being more relationship angst than I'd originally thought it would be, but all the stuff with their respective whirling emotions kind of took on a life of its own.

Speaking of, given what an anal retentive, Type A worrier Hotch is, I thought it totally made sense that he would have gone out of his way to research potential desert dangers as they related to Emily and the baby. Not only did that seem to fit for his personality in general, but clearly, even if they aren't a formalized unit yet, that's his family and he's going to be hyper aware of any dangers to them. But then on the flip side, I saw Emily as seeing that action from him, though sweet, as also something that would make her feel badly. She isn't already a parent like he is and used to thinking about dangers as they relate to her "children," and not just herself. And for yourself, really, you tend to walk around with those blinders on all the time that you've survived this long on the planet, so most likely you'll be just fine. And as this is much earlier in the Girl'verse, Emily didn't get to practice date Hotch, or practice parent Jack before they all settled in together. She's just a single career woman working in a man's world. She's not girly, she has no baby experience, no pets, and no long term relationships. And now out of the blue she's got a full time (or ¾ time) guy, and a kid on the way. It seemed remiss to not cover the mental adjustment that would be for someone like her at this point in her life. Especially when she sees how much more instinctual Divorced Dad Hotch is at everything than she is. It's going to be a little bumpy.

I took some liberties with China Lake. It's actually one of the largest naval stations, over a million acres of land, mostly situated in California, but for convenience purposes here, I put a small base clinic in the general vicinity of this section of the Mojave desert. God knows, they might actually have a med center in that area, but either way, just go with it :)