A/N: Thank you to all who have either reviewed or alerted my story. I hope you all enjoy this next part.

If any of you have ideas for the State dinner interactions, feel free to forward them on!

Emily glanced at the clock in her bedroom nervously. She was just adding the finishing touches to her outfit, namely earrings and necklace. It was nearing six o'clock and she felt the first flutters of nervousness in her stomach. Am I… are we really doing this? She nervously fingered and smoothed down her dress, turning to look in her full-length mirror. She smiled at her reflection. She knew she cleaned up good. While she didn't think of herself as a great beauty, she wasn't plain.

Earlier that morning, she'd shopped for a dress. And though in the back of her mind she knew what style of dress she'd wanted to wear, she still wanted to see what other options were out there. When she recalled her later teenage years, she remembered her mother always making sure she'd be properly dressed for one of her famous 'house parties,' which meant floor length gowns. While the gowns were beautiful, she'd always leaned toward a shorter dress, tea length to above the knee. This time, however, the occasion was at the White House and she knew she'd have to go with a more appropriate style, black tie. She always kept a few dresses on hand, knowing the dress protocol and that her mother often asked her to attend similar functions. And she'd already worn all three. This was something special, something that meant a lot to her and to Aaron. She wanted to make sure it was the right one.

And I think I outdid myself this time. She'd chosen a deep blue satin dress, almost a midnight blue. The shopkeeper had called it a midnight blue but Emily could see -hints of -violet in it - depending on how she stood in the light-. The dress was strapless with a straight-edged, plicated-wrapped bodice, and fell to the floor where it flared slightly so that when she walked, the skirt flowed around her legs. She'd be able to move in this dress if the occasion called for it. She smiled.

Her clock chimed six o'clock.

Knowing he'd be arriving any moment, the fluttering in her stomach increased. She wished she'd thought of having a glass of wine earlier to relax. She placed a tentative hand to her stomach and decided that it wasn't too late for one. She went to the kitchen and got a bottle of Moscato from the fridge. She rummaged a drawer for her corkscrew and just as she finished uncorking the bottle, she heard a knock at her door. Looking at the bottle, she still wanted a drink. Maybe Aaron would appreciate a drink as well.

On shaky legs, she made her way to the door. With a quick check in the hall mirror, she patted her hair, looked over her face then tremulously reached for the doorknob.

Her breath hitched at Aaron Hotchner in a black tux and nicely formed black bowtie. She hadn't considered what the effect of him in a tuxedo would have on her, and it was breathtaking.

His eyes traveled the length of her, scorching her everywhere they touched. He drifted back to meet her eyes. The debonair man in front of her appeared to be as tongue-tied as she was. She watched his chest rise with the effort of drawing in a deep breath.

"Hello," she greeted airily.

"Hello," he drawled. "You're... You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she accepted shyly. "You do too."

They both smiled then she opened the door wider and asked him to come in. "I was just opening a bottle of wine. Would you care for a glass?"

"Sure."

"I hope you don't mind a semi-sweet wine. I'd offer you a Scotch or Bourbon but I'm out right now." She turned -toward the kitchen.

"The wine will be fine." His voice traveled from the living room. She was thankful he hadn't followed her. The butterflies in her stomach were relentless. She poured two glasses, downed one then refilled it.

When she entered the living room, she found him staring out her window overlooking the capitol. He must've heard her bare feet on the wood floor because he turned as she entered the room. She crossed to him and handed him the wine glass.

"This is a terrific view."

"Hmm. You should see it after the sun goes down." She sipped at her wine and watched him sip his. His eyebrows lifted and he pulled the glass away to look at it.

"Bubbles?"

"It's a Moscato, a sparkling wine."

"But not champagne?"

She shook her head.

"I like it."

"Good."

She was taking another long sip and barely managed to keep from spluttering it all over him when he said, "It'd be easy to down a full glass quickly." He grinned. "I take it that had already occurred to you?"

She nodded.

"I'd had the same idea you did before I left."

"Oh."

"Emily?" he teased. Her eyebrows lifted and he continued, "You're not nervous are you?"

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Tipping her head, she asked, "And you're not?"

"I most certainly am."

"Not much hope for it is there then?"

"Oh, I think we can figure out something to lessen the... tension."

The inquisitive lift of her eyebrows had him take the glass from her hand and she place it along with his on the corner table. Her eyes shifted to the floor in shy anticipation. She felt the soft tips of his fingers along her cheek then tentatively lift her chin. Eyes meeting eyes, he asked, "How about we change the order of the night?"

She nodded in agreement, understanding fully his intentions.

His fingers left her chin, trailing shivers down her throat, until he cupped her bare neck and pulled her to him. He dipped his head and looked deeply into her eyes. "Breathe, Emily. Just… breathe."

She exhaled slowly.

The touch of his lips to hers, although somewhat chaste, sent electricity through her spine to the tips of her toes. He pulled back just long enough to glimpse her fluttering eyes opening when he swooped in for another. The kiss deepened. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. A moment later, the kiss ended and she gasped at the loss. He smiled as she licked her lips.

"There, took some of the tension away, didn't it," he whispered.

She couldn't help beaming at his assuredness. Aaron Hotchner was as much aware and in control off the clock as he was on it. The man at work she knew best, and knowing he was the same man with her now proved predictive of the future.

Stroking her bare shoulder and neck softly, he continued in a whisper, "We should probably go."

Still completely enthralled in the man before her and the feeling lingering on her lips, she blinked. "Oh, yes. I just have to slip on my sandals."

She took three steps to her sofa and slid each sandal onto her feet, keeping her balance with one hand on the arm of the sofa. She felt him very close and felt him lean in even closer. At first, she thought he was going to kiss her but instead he picked up her small hand-bag and shawl then held them out for her as she stood firmly on both sandal-covered feet. She took both from him and met his smile with her own. He crooked his arm out for her to take. His gentlemanliness took her by surprise. No one had ever treated her in such a manner, let alone made her feel in such a way. Shivers coursed through her spine and goose bumps rose on her arms. She smiled up at him as she clutched his arm. He was a good four inches taller than her and standing so close she had to stretch her neck to gaze into his eyes. "In case I forget to tell you later, tonight was wonderful."

His eyes crinkled and there again, she saw the two dimples framing his smile. It was a sight she'd never tire of seeing.