Hotch hurried his way across the catwalk and quickly closed his office door behind him, making sure to immediately pick up his phone and dial his ex wife's number to tell her he'd be late to the baseball game his son was the key shortstop in that afternoon.

"Aaron?"

"Haley," he sighed, shoving together a couple of files to make sure everything was organized. "I'm not getting out of work until six, and I can't take a lunch bream to come to the game. Something important came up and I have to go meet in front of the court in a few hours."

The blond woman fought the roll of her eyes as she glanced down to the diamond ring on her finger. "It doesn't matter," she shrugged, taking the thermometer from her son's mouth. "Jack is home sick from school. Over a hundred temperature and an upset stomach."

Hotch let out a sigh, shaking his head and sitting himself down in his office chair. "Can I talk to him?"

Jack, now twelve years old with a much darker head of hair, took the phone from his mother and settled himself down against the cushions of the couch. "Hey dad."

"Hey bud, what's wrong? Mom's cooking get you sick again?"

Haley frowned at the laughter coming from her son, having heard the joke her ex made over the phone. "Hurry up and then I'm running you a bath."

The almost teenager waited for his mom to leave the room before settling himself on his side, his back facing the rest of the living room. "Sorry, mom's in a mood."

"Be nice to your mother."

"Tell her to be nice to me," the brunette boy groaned. "She's been ridiculous for months, now that she's Mrs. Fields instead of Ms. Brooks."

Hotch nodded, sympathizing with his son and his situation. "I'm sorry, Jack. But you get to come to my house on Saturday. You ready for that?"

"Even if I feel ten times worse, I'm coming over." The seventh grader was repulsed by his mother and her new husband, and he'd give anything to get out of there and visit his dad.

"Well what do you think you have? You were fine yesterday."

Jack nodded. "You talked to me before school. Almost everyone has the flu and I think they gave it to me," he sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "So you're busy today?"

Hotch smiled into his phone, ecstatic to have his son find out that his favorite adult was finally back. "I have a surprise for you, but it's gonna take a little while to get it to you."

"Are you getting me a car?"

The Unit Chief laughed, shuffling the papers on his desk from one end to the other. "You're a good few years away from needing one of those."

"Doesn't mean I don't want one," Jack smiled, his arm wrapping around his stomach to ward off the pain. "So what's the big surprise?"

"I can't tell you yet but why don't I wait until the weekend to give it to you?"

Jack groaned, rolling onto his back and pulling his blanket up around his shoulders. "Come on, dad."

"I promise, it'll be even better if you wait."

"Fine," he huffed, ignoring his mother calling him from the bathroom. "I'll see you this weekend. Love you, dad."

Hotch gave the same sentiment to his son before hanging up his cell phone, leaning back in his chair and forcing himself to take a deep breath and calm down his frantically pumping heart.

Emily was coming home, and he couldn't get his mind off of her.

"So nothing's changed, huh?"

Opening his eyes at the soft voice to his left, the Unit Chief immediately stood from his desk, his eyes wide as they caught the beautiful brunette leaning against his doorway. "Emily," he breathed, moving around his desk. "Oh my God."

Emily's eyes filled with tears, practically sprinting across the office's carpeted floor and letting the older man take her into his strong arms. "Hi Aaron," she sobbed into his neck, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders.

"I missed you so much."

The brunette squeezed her eyes shut tight, breathing in his scent as her tears stained his shirt. "Thank you," Emily cried, letting him pick her up off the floor and hug her tight to his chest. "Thank you for everything."

Hotch set the younger woman back down and cupped her cheeks with his hands, brushing her hair back behind her ears. "You look exactly the same."

Emily could have laughed. Her hair had grown down to her breasts and her eyes were darker than before, her brows reshaped and her wardrobe completely different, and yet he made a comment like that.

"Still so beautiful."

Emily rolled her lips inward, letting the older man press a long kiss to her cheek. "How did he die?"

He saw the fear in her eyes, and Hotch immediately nodded his head. "He's dead, Emily. He's really dead."

She bit her lip. "Did you do it?"

Looking into those chocolate brown eyes he had fallen in love with when Emily was just eighteen years old, Hotch barely nodded his head.

"Thank you," she breathed, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. "Thank you."

"Come on," Hotch smiled, turning her around and dragging her toward the door. "Everybody is so thrilled to see you."

"Wait!"

Hotch turned, questioning the younger woman with a look of his eyes.

Emily's teeth raked over her bottom lip, her two hands clutching one of his. "I have to tell you something."

"Can't it wait?" The team had been a bundle of nerves since the night before and he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold them off.

Emily gently shook her head, her jet black hair flying from shoulder to shoulder as she dismissed him. "No," she laughed, her eyes stinging as she looked up to the man she had been ready to marry all those years ago. "No, it can't."