Author's Note: I stayed up twenty minutes past the point where I should have gone to bed just to get this up. Apparently I'll be drinking an extra coffee tomorrow.
Side Note: Chiroho had some FABULOUS suggestions on other things to cover in their budding relationship! You can see them on his chapter 4 review but I am going to try to hit all of them :) And yes, keep them coming ;) Girl's going to be wrapping soon and I'll have to move into the cancer story so I'll need something "nice" ongoing to work on on the side.
Necessary Conversations
As the credits began to roll on the movie, Aaron looked over to the other end of the couch to see Emily had fallen asleep.
His eyes crinkled . . . she had a little bit of drool on her face.
He leaned over and squeezed her foot.
"Emily," he whispered, "wake up."
In response, he heard an unintelligible murmur as she curled herself into a smaller ball and rolled over.
Okay . . . his lip quirked up as he pushed himself off the couch . . . he'd deal with that in a second.
First things first.
He went over and turned off the tape and the television. Then he pushed the embers around in the fireplace to make sure the fire was dead.
It was mostly just red coals left. But on the off chance that there was something left to burn, he moved the screen back to make sure that nothing popped and flew onto the rug.
After that was done, for the fifth time that night he checked the alarm and the locks on the doors and windows. Though that horrible panicked feeling that he'd had earlier had faded, that experience had rattled him enough that there was a residual tickle in his brain. One that was forcing him to be overly cautious about their surroundings.
But given his line of work, being overly cautious was never a bad thing.
When he came back into the living room a few minutes after he'd left, he saw that Emily was still sound asleep. And he didn't want to startle her, so his voice was soft as he stooped down and rubbed her shoulder.
"Emily, it's time to go to bed."
But still there was nothing but the murmur.
"Mmm . . . tired . . . hmm . . . up."
But this time . . . he huffed to himself . . . he understood a little bit of what she was saying. Though he wasn't an expert on sleep murmuring, he was pretty sure that translated as, "I'm tired and I don't want to get up."
"Okay pretty girl," he whispered while wiping his thumb along the corner of her mouth, "you don't have to get up.
So he stooped down, slipping his arms under her body and pulling her to his chest. Once she was settled, he pushed himself up and started for the stairs.
Just before he got to the second floor, Emily's eyes opened for a moment. But he could see that they weren't focused and all she did was close them again and turn to sigh into his chest.
That was enough for Aaron to stop at the landing and look down at her snuggled against him.
Two weeks suddenly seemed like a very long time.
With a dejected sigh, he pulled her a little closer and continued down the hall to her room.
Fortunately when he remade the bed earlier, he'd left the blankets pulled back. So when he got to the bed he just yanked the covers the rest of the way before he gently placed Emily on the mattress. She murmured something again as he tucked her in.
But that time he couldn't understand her.
Still though, he stood there for a moment looking at her. She looked so sweet and innocent when she was sleeping that before he could stop himself, he'd leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
As he pulled back he told himself that it was completely innocent, and totally platonic.
And then he told himself that was crap.
He shook his head as he turned off the lamp by her bed and stepped back. Then he turned and walked out into the hall.
For a second he debated shutting her door . . . he let her keep it shut at home . . . but then he decided that on the off chance that there was a problem, that he'd be able to hear her better with the door open.
Just before he turned to go into his own room he looked back at her illuminated by just the little nightlight in her room. He sighed again.
Two weeks.
/*/*/*/*/
Emily's eyes popped open and she stared at the ceiling for a moment.
Where the hell . . . ?
And then she spotted the starlings and she remembered she was at her grandparents. But what had woke her up?
Then there was another momentous crack of thunder and the room instantly lit up from the lightning outside the window.
The storm . . . she jumped . . . it was howling.
She lay there for a moment trying to get her breathing under control.
'It's just a storm Emily,' she chanted over and over to herself, 'it's just a storm. Nothing to be afraid of.'
Then there was another huge crash of thunder and the rain began to pelt the window.
"Crap," she muttered as she leapt up out of her bed. Her feet barely hit the ground before she'd run out, around the corner and into Aaron's room.
It was obvious that he was still sound asleep.
"Aaron," she whispered anxiously from the doorway . . . but still he didn't stir. Apparently thunderstorms didn't register as events important enough to be worthy of disturbing his sleep.
Crap.
Her lower lip popped out . . . she wanted him to be awake TOO! But she wanted him to be awake on his own. She didn't want to wake him up for a something as silly as a thunderstorm. That was . . . childish.
Then the thunder crashed again, simultaneously filling his room with light as she jumped a foot in the air.
He only rolled over.
Okay, she thought as she stood there shaking, this was ridiculous. She couldn't stand in his doorway all night.
That would be creepy.
Though she did feel better in his room than she did alone in hers, she also knew that she would feel better still if he would just OPEN HIS EYES!
For a second she stood there biting her lip, as to whether or not he would be mad if she woke him up.
No, probably not.
So even though she felt stupid doing it, she crossed over and knelt down next to his bed. Then she touched his shoulder as she whispered again, "Aaron."
His eyes popped open immediately.
"What's the matter?"
His voice was scratchy as he pushed himself up, "why are you . . ."
And then suddenly the thunder crashed again and he knew why she was awake. He refocused and looked down at her pale face illuminated by the flash of lightning through the window.
"I'm really sorry to wake you up," she whispered, "I just . . . I couldn't stay in my room, and it was creepy watching you sleep from the doorway."
Crawling in next to him would have been nice, but not really an option.
His expression softened . . . the poor thing.
"It's okay," he said softly as he pushed back the blankets, "you can wake me up anytime you need me."
He swung his feet onto the floor, then he grabbed his gun off the nightstand before he took her hand with his free one, "come on," he squeezed her fingers as he walked her back around the corner to her own room.
"But Aaron," she protested sadly as they turned the corner, "I don't want to stay here by myself, and I can't go back to sleep."
Why was he bringing her back here?
He didn't answer, he just brought her over to her bed. Then he went over and pulled the curtains open before he joined her sitting on the mattress.
She felt him fumbling for her fingers before he whispered, "see how beautiful it is?
The droplets of water were running down the glass and the lightning was making jagged white streaks across the purple sky.
It was gorgeous.
He loved lightning . . . his eyes shifted over to look at her . . . maybe he could help her to grow to love it too.
Emily stared for a moment, trying to see what he saw. Finally there was a splash of light and the double Zs appeared in the blackness.
She nodded slowly, "okay, maybe. But . . ."
The thunder cracked again, and her fingernails gouged into his hand, "that's my problem," she moaned.
Wincing slightly from the dig into his palm, Hotch nodded, "okay," then he turned to her, "is it all loud noises that bother you, or just the thunder?"
It wasn't just a general curiosity question, he also thought that maybe there was a reason behind her . . . . denied . . . phobia.
She bit her lip, "well, I don't really like fireworks either, so I guess it is all loud noises."
For a second he didn't say anything, and then he asked softly, "since Johannesburg?"
Gunshots were loud noises too. And there were a lot of gunshots that day.
Emily swallowed, "uh yeah, I guess that sounds about right."
That's why she didn't call it a phobia. To her mind, whether it was accurate or not, phobias were irrational, unexplained things. And she knew why she didn't like thunder. And she also knew that this was something that she'd never discussed with anyone before.
Maybe talking about it would help.
While pulling his leg up under him, Aaron turned back to her.
"Do you have flashbacks?" He asked with concern.
That must have been horrendous for her. It would be horrendous for anyone, but she was just a kid.
Children should be exempt from those kinds of horrors.
Feeling her eyes beginning to burn, Emily dropped her gaze down to the floor.
"Um, nightmares sometimes, but less as I get older. But," she turned to him, "if you mean does the noise make me relive that moment, no. No, that's not it. It just," she bit her lip, trying to think of a way to explain it, "it's like it rubs my nerves raw. The louder the noise," she jumped as the thunder cracked again, "the worse it is. Like downstairs it wasn't so bad because the storm wasn't so bad. But this," she pouted sadly, "this sucks."
"Okay," he chewed on his lip for a second, "well, how about another movie? Maybe that will distract you."
The storm couldn't last that much longer. They'd had rumbling on and off all evening but this was the worst of it. It had to blow out soon.
"Maybe," she looked back at him sheepishly, "I'm sorry to be such a bother. I know thunderstorm counseling probably wasn't covered at the Academy as one of your standard duties."
His brow went up in surprise.
"Are you kidding me? I ACED thunderstorm counseling," he said as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her up.
Just like earlier in the night, joking seemed the best course of action. He wasn't going to let her feel embarrassed about something she had no control over.
Her lips twitched as they walked out.
"Is that a fact? You study anything else good that I might be interested in?"
This side of him . . . the funny part . . . was just the cherry on top of what she'd already discovered was a real catch.
She tipped her head onto his shoulder . . . she really couldn't believe that he wanted to go out with her.
"Well," he made a show of thinking as they walked down the staircase, "of course there was that black ops program. Arachnid assassinations," he shifted his gaze down and shot her a look, "there was a spider in your room. He's dead now so you can see that my training hasn't left me."
Her mouth twitched, "wow, you really are quite the American hero, huh?"
They stepped off the riser and into the living room as he stated nonchalantly, "well, I don't like to brag."
Her eyebrow went up in amusement, "yeah, I can see why."
He shot her a mock scowl as he went over to the shelf where she'd lined up her tapes earlier in the evening.
"So what do you want to watch?" he called back over his shoulder.
"Um," she plopped down on the couch, "your choice. I picked earlier."
Though she knew he liked the movie she'd chosen, she didn't want to be bossy.
Aaron stared at the selections she'd brought with them, finally pulling one out, slipping it from its sleeve and into the machine.
As he walked over to join Emily on the couch she looked up at him curiously, "what did you pick?"
But before he could answer the music came on and she grinned, "I didn't know you liked this movie."
National Lampoon's Vacation. It wouldn't have been one she'd have picked for him.
He shrugged, "what can I say? I'm a man of many interests."
Though he did actually like the film, he'd picked it for her. He'd seen her watching it at least three or four times since she'd moved into her parents. Often just on low while she was reading or doing a crossword.
As far as he could tell, it was like comfort food to her.
So . . . he dropped down next to her on the couch . . . that seemed to be the best pick to make her feel better at two in the morning.
Of course it wasn't a magical potion though.
A half hour later, as they sat on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, he could feel the tension in her body even as she laughed at the film.
Hmmm . . . he chewed his lip as he mused to himself . . . how bad an idea was the bad idea that he was having right now?
Probably very. But as he looked up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room he could see that they were going to be in for a very long night if he didn't find some way to soothe her tension. A few choice images instantly popped into his brain, but he shoved them aside with an audible huff.
SO not the time for fantasies Aaron!
"Did you say something?" Emily asked out of the corner of her mouth.
"What?" he coughed nervously, "uh, no. Though I was just thinking that it was a bit chilly in here, so maybe I'd get the fire going again."
A warm room should relax her. And hopefully make her sleepy again.
She gave him a little smile, "that would be nice. Thanks."
It was chilly. But it had also seemed like a bit of an imposition to ask him to make her another fire in the middle of the night.
She had already dragged the poor man out of bed.
But . . . she watched him head back down to the mudroom . . . as long as he offered.
Aaron lugged another stack of cord back down to the living room and stacked it in the fireplace as he had earlier in the night. Fortunately the embers were still hot, so just a little bit of paper and some poking got everything roaring again.
As he stepped back, the heat from the fire warmed his face and his eyes crinkled.
Despite the circumstances, this was a really nice a weekend.
He turned back around to look at Emily curled up on the couch. She'd pulled a quilt over her legs and she was looking up at him with a curious smile.
"What?"
It was almost three am and he looked . . . happy. That was a little unexpected.
Most men would be a bit, more likely VERY, put out at being up at this hour just because of her stupid little thunderstorm NOTphobia.
"Nothing," he shook his head as he went over and sat down next to her again, "nothing at all," he took a breath and then turned to her, "are you tired?"
He was a little tired but he'd learned to live on very little sleep. So if she wanted to stay up all night he'd be fine. Though, he would prefer that she didn't stay up all night.
She needed her rest.
Emily nodded, "yeah, kind of, but . . ." she frowned, "I don't want to go back to bed yet. It's still kind of . . . "
And then nature provided the window rattling emphasis she was looking for and she sighed, "as long as it's doing that I won't be able to sleep."
He gave her a sympathetic smile, "I wasn't going to send you back to bed Emily. I just was wondering if you wanted to lie down on the couch? Maybe rest a little bit."
It would be more comfortable than cramming herself into a little ball in the corner.
Her eyes widened, "umm . . . umm . . ."
For a second she hedged. She did want to lie down, but if she stretched out then he was going to have to move to the wing chair.
And she didn't want him that far away.
His eyes crinkled at her stammer, "wow, that linguistics minor has really been money well spent."
It wasn't a hard question so he figured that she did want to lie down, but for some reason she just didn't want to say it.
She rolled her eyes, "funny man," and she was just about to add that "no, she was fine," when he slid down, grabbed the throw pillow from the end of the couch and placed it in his lap.
Then he patted it as he said soothingly, "come on and put your head down. You can't keep falling asleep sitting up. You're going to have a stiff neck tomorrow."
This was the plan that he had decided was somewhere between a 'bad idea' and a 'VERY bad idea,' but he still decided to just go with it.
Because it was true.
She was going to have a stiff neck tomorrow if she kept falling asleep sitting up on the couch. And then she'd be in pain and that was going to ruin the rest of her weekend. And he had decided that he was going to do his best to make sure she had another happy memory to take away from this place. And that meant that she should lie down and rest.
Hopefully the thunder would continue to fade and the warmth of the fire would put her to sleep.
That was the rest of the plan.
Emily bit her lip as she stared at him for a moment. And then she said softly, "okay," and she shifted around, sliding down the cushions and putting her head on the pillow.
As she felt him fix the quilt around her shoulders, and then brush his fingers through her hair, Emily felt a tingle in her stomach.
She'd never been alone with a man before. Not like this.
And certainly not with anybody she was attracted to.
These were new feelings.
But . . . her eyes crinkled . . . they were really nice feelings too.
She trusted him implicitly, so she knew that even if they weren't in a holding pattern because of the assignment, that he still wouldn't be pressuring her to do anything right now that she didn't want to do.
And then she realized that it was probably good that they had this little two week waiting period. She could kind of ease into her first grown up . . . she swallowed . . . sexual, relationship.
At some point she was probably going to have to mention to him that she'd never had sex before. And as she lay there for a minute longer, feeling his fingers gently running through her hair, she decided . . . no time like the present.
So she rolled over and looked up at him, "I've never had a real boyfriend before."
His eyebrow went up slightly, "never?"
Though he'd figured out on his own that she hadn't exactly been a social butterfly, he still was a little surprised at that rather random pronouncement.
And then he noticed the look she was giving him as she slowly shook her head.
A little bit embarrassed . . . a little bit nervous.
His brow wrinkled slightly . . . why was she nervous?
Never had a real boyfriend . . . the phrase rolled around in his head . . . never had a . . .
And then suddenly his eyes widened.
Oh.
He immediately pulled his hand back and looked down worriedly, "I'm sorry, am I making you nervous?"
God! She's a virgin and he just lit a roaring fire and told her to put her head in his LAP!
His stomach flipped . . . he was starting to feel very much like Chester the Molester.
Emily's cheeks started to get a little warm as she quickly shook her head, "no, no not at all. I just thought . . . well," her eyes shifted away from his as she cleared her throat, "that maybe you should know that before we went out."
This was a VERY embarrassing conversation. But she figured it was better to have it now and get it out of the way. It would be way more awkward if two weeks from now they had a nice dinner and he brought her home and she had to put the brakes on something then.
After all, at that point they'd have known each other for a month. And though she was obviously no expert, a month sort of seemed like a point where sex might be kind of expected.
But . . . she bit her lip as she stared at the fire . . . she didn't know if she'd be ready, and she didn't want to disappoint him.
Aaron looked down at Emily for a moment, seeing the embarrassment on her face as she stared at the fire. And his own feelings of discomfort started to fade as he began to have an inkling of what her concern was.
With the tips of his fingers he gently turned her head back until she was facing him.
"Emily," he whispered, "I would never pressure you to do something that you weren't comfortable doing. So if you're worried that dating automatically means that I expect that we'll be having sex, it doesn't," his eyes crinkled slightly, "I'm sure that there's more than just the one dinner in our future. And we'll wait until we get to the dinner where you're comfortable moving things to the next step."
As he saw her eyes start to water, he ran his fingertip along her cheek.
"But maybe we'll never get to that dinner. And that's okay too," he gave her a firm look, "don't ever let any man tell you that have to do something that you don't want to do. If he really likes you then he'll stay with you no matter what, okay?"
He'd of course known plenty of men that dumped a woman if she didn't put out by the third date. Those guys were usually jerks. And Emily deserved better than somebody like that. And if things didn't work out with them, he just wanted to make sure that she was confident enough to know that there was nothing wrong with waiting until SHE was ready.
His expression softened as he reached over and caught the stray tear that trickled down her cheek. And when she gave him a watery smile, he felt a dimple slide out. He leaned down to pull her up into an awkwardly angled hug.
Emily twisted herself so she could wrap her arms around Aaron's neck.
"Thank you," she whispered.
This man was definitely going to be her first. She was sure of it.
They just had to get to that right dinner.
She slowly untangled her arms from his neck and leaned back, shifting her body around so she could look at him. Then she gently patted his cheek, "you don't have to wait forever. Just a little while."
He smiled, "it's okay," he winked at her, "I'll live."
Her lips twitched, "I hope so. It's taken me twenty-two years to find a good prospect. It would kind of suck if you dropped dead."
He burst out laughing and pulled her back into his arms, "oh Emily," he chuckled into her hair, "you do make me laugh."
Nobody had ever made him laugh as much as she did. More than once over these past couple weeks he'd had to bite down on his lip to keep from cracking up at some ridiculous thing that came out of her mouth.
Once he'd even drawn blood!
Haley could be amusing, but she wasn't particularly . . . funny. But of course he'd never really considered a good sense of humor to be a major attribute that he was looking for in a girlfriend.
He leaned back and smiled at her . . . in the light of new acquaintances he was definitely reprioritizing his list.
Emily reached up and traced the outline of his dimple, then she gave him a shy smile, "will you lie down on the couch with me?"
If he was going to stay up with her, he should rest too.
He started to shake his head, "I don't think . . ."
But then he saw her face fall and he stopped to really consider her request, his eyes shifting over to his Glock sitting on the coffee table. He reached over, checked the safety, and slid it between the cushion and the end of the couch. Then he looked back at her, his eyes crinkling slightly as he nodded, "yeah, yeah I can do that."
Given the topic of the conversation they'd just had, apparently they were going to be 'easing into' this other phase of their relationship. And her getting used to sharing space with him was probably a good thing.
His real concern was again, that his feelings for her would be a distraction.
But . . . he lay down and she curled up in front of him . . . then he realized that there wasn't really a safer place for her to be.
His hand started to slide around her waist, but then he stopped and whispered, "is this okay?"
This was her idea, but still . . . he didn't want to inadvertently do anything that would make her uneasy. Given his lengthy relationship with Haley, he was obviously used to a certain amount of liberty when it came to where he could place his hands on a woman's body when he was lying down with her.
And his liberties might a bit more liberated than what Emily was used to.
She nodded, "uh, huh," then she smiled at him over her shoulder, "thanks for asking though."
He nodded seriously, "you tell me right away if I do something that you're not okay with yet," his lip quirked up, "I'm used to stuff that you're not used to."
Her eyes crinkled, "okay," and then she turned back around and he pulled the quilt over her shoulders.
It was going to be a bit of an adjustment for him, going REALLY slow. But he figured six years of regular sex was a good run for a guy his age. Hell, half the guys he knew from his Academy class were out every weekend trying desperately to pick up women.
And they'd been doing that for a decade.
So if he was going to have to take some cold showers for awhile . . . his arm loosely slipped around her waist and he inhaled the scent of fading roses . . . he'd deal.
A/N 2: As I said in my last A/N, I thought it would be interesting in this world to make Emily's experiences kind of the opposite of what they have been portrayed in canon. And again, with her being more self assured, I saw her as a version of herself that wouldn't feel the need to have sex just to get it over with, or to make somebody like her. And because she hadn't been able to find anyone that she'd really connected with yet, she was okay with waiting until she did. I know it's kind of an old fashioned approach that you might not expect from what we know from the show, but again this is AU ;) and I thought it worked for them here. And if you're familiar with my stuff then you know I like to go unconventional :) And it kind of adds another layer to their budding relationship. Also, keep in mind this is almost 20 yrs ago. Certainly people were HAVING sex :) but the culture wasn't quite so sexualized. Paris Hilton was probably still just lifting her skirt over her head in kindergarten! (yes, my obligatory shot at Paris Hilton, it's almost as ubiquitous as my descriptions of Emily's pajamas!)
Overall though, I thought making her more inexperienced, though wiser than him in other ways, kind of evened them out. I just think they're really sweet together here :) I'm definitely for the foreseeable future pretending like canon doesn't exist at ALL!
The thunder/loud noises thing, I thought that worked here with the history of the assassination attempt. Chiroho guessed that might have something to do with her gun phobia - thumbs up :) - but I'm not sure if anyone made the connection with her thunder phobia. Kudos if you did :) I can tell you, that I am foreshadowing all over the damn place right now! So if you ever randomly have a thought pop into you head about where you think I'm going with something that seems sort of random, feel free to share. This is one story that keeps spinning out so I do have a clear direction for where I'm going and I'm always interested to see if anybody else's brain takes the twisty turns that mine does :)
I thinking we'll pick up the next morning and do breakfast and maybe take them shooting. And you might get your shirtless Hotch scene. I sort of have an idea to "organically" work that in :)
Clearly this is going beyond the four or 5 chapters (we're on 5 now – I guess I could technically stop here but it would REALLY be a cheat!) I thought it would be but the whole story won't cover a period of time past the weekend and we're moving to Saturday now, so it'll keep chugging along pretty quickly. Maybe ten chapters? I'd really like to get it wrapped this week so my brain will let go of this world for a bit and I can focus on other stuff again :) Right now this time at the cabin is like a continuous movie running in my head and it doesn't stop until I get each scene down on the page. So the faster I get to the end of the reel the faster this will get up :)
Again, thanks for all the lovely comments :) I don't think I got back to anyone today but I had a hellish commute home so I lost some time this evening and didn't have a chance to write AND respond. I thought you'd rather I put the chapter up first and wrote back to you tomorrow ;)
