The phone rang at three A.M. At first, Aaron didn't even register it, sprawled out on the couch against the wall of his home-office with Serif words still floating impatiently behind his eyelids. He had spent the past four hours typing up his interview with Miss Prentiss and had finally finished only thirty minutes previous. He curled up on the couch hoping to get a few hours' sleep before prepping his client for court in the morning.
But the phone kept ringing and by the third or fourth chime, he realized who was calling. Jumping from his position rapidly, he grabbed the chunky, portable phone and pressed it to his ear. "Aaron Hotchner, Prosecutor and Attorney at Law." He always answered that way- it was direct, to the point.
"Hey, it's Emily," she spoke quietly, barely above a broken whisper. "My mother changed her mind- she wants me to drop the case."
"What? Now? Why- wait, don't explain on the phone. Just pack some clothes for tomorrow; something court appropriate. I can be there in ten."
"But my mother-" To this, Aaron began trembling with frustration. Emily certainly could elicit emotion from him, though he tried his best to remain in control of his feelings.
"Fuck your mother. Until you waive your right to trial, I'm your lawyer. And I think you should push this case- you deserve justice, Emily. I'll be there in ten minutes, like I said. Will you be waiting?"
"Yes." She replied and hung up. Hotchner felt a stinging anger in his nerves as he grabbed his keys and headed for the parking garage, still in his clothes from the day before. He pulled out onto the street, allowing his mind to plunge into that familiar melancholy that always seemed to take over when confronted with life's unsightly hideousness.
It took less time than expected to reach her, as the streets were mainly empty. He pulled in front of the hotel.
Emily was already out there, wearing long pajama pants and a hooded jacket. Aaron hopped out and approached her, reaching for her bag. Instead, she threw her arms around him. "What are we supposed to do?" She was crying, now- softly, as if she thought he couldn't hear.
He touched her hair. "Well, we go to court in the morning, as planned. I told you, I'm representing you, not her."
"But-" She sniffled and, in that moment, Aaron was reminded of her youth. She was barely eighteen, and she still needed that emotional reassurance that a parent ought to be giving on the night before her trial. He proceeded to pull her in tighter.
"It'll be okay, Emily. I'll take care of it, alright? If we have to, we'll file a court case against your mother- I know for certain she'll cave, then. Having a lawsuit filed against her won't improve her career." She just nodded into his shoulder and let him bring her to his car. He offered to set her up in a different hotel, but she refused.
"Maybe this is childish, but I don't want to be alone; can't we just start prepping for the case?" She asked, twisting her thumbs in the passenger seat.
Her lawyer ran his hand through his black hair. "It's only four in the morning, Emily- I'm not sure what we can do. But, if you don't want to be alone, you can certainly come back with me. I'll sleep on the couch; I was there when you called, anyway. You can take my bed- you need your rest for tomorrow." He yawned quietly, covering it with his hand.
"I don't want to intrude. I'm sure your wife- or your girlfriend, or-" Aaron was amused that it didn't occur to the young woman that he lived alone. He just smiled at her dryly.
"None of the above; it's just me. So, you won't be intruding at all. In fact, I got this waffle maker for Christmas last year, but since I never have any morning guests, I haven't really got to use it. Since we're not on the docket until noon, you get to be my first tester." He said it to lighten the mood and it appeared to work. She smiled eagerly and nodded. He leaned back in his seat as he brought her to his place. "Let's get you set up for the night, okay? The bedroom's here, the bathroom is down the hall, and I'll be just in the room next door. You come on in if you need anything." He followed her in, ensuring that she would be alright before returning to the couch in the next room. "Goodnight, Emily." He called on his way out.
"Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner." She replied, to which he shook his head.
"We're on first name basis here, Aaron works." He slipped into the office and shut the door before she could respond.
It had felt like Aaron had just been asleep for a few minutes when he heard the door crack open. He opened one eye slowly, to see Emily standing in the doorway, her face plastered with tears, holding the throw blanket that had been at the edge of the bed. "What- what's up?" He asked drowsily, sitting.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't going to bother you, but- but, I-" She burst into a second fit of sobs, coming to sit on the edge of the sofa. He hadn't expected her to seem this fragile; his mind still held onto that image of those powerful brown eyes, unwilling to bend or compromise. Aaron, unsure of how to comfort her, brushed a tear off of her cheek.
"It's okay; it's okay to be upset, it's understandable, Emily. You're not bothering me." He pulled her into an embrace, thinking only of how to quell her fears. In this mindset, he wasn't being most professional; so, when she buried her face into his neck and it felt as though she may have kissed his flesh, he thought nothing negative. She looked back up at him, checking to see how her move was received, which assured Aaron that his initial judgment was correct. He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, noting how it luminesced in the light from the hallway.
She then pressed her lips to his hand; he noted how beautifully innocent it was. He allowed her to push him back against the sofa and begin nimbly unbuttoning his shirt. It was as she was carefully removing her own that he stopped her. "Emily- are you sure you want to- I'm not pressuring you to do this-" He trailed off as she ran her nails softly against his chest. She never replied to him with words, but made it quite clear how she felt about having sex.