It was funny the way people seemed to keep resurfacing into Emily Prentiss' life. It was as if each time she was reborn; in essence, recreated to escape the overwhelming conspiracy she operated under- something would remain from her first life. In this existence, it was Aaron Hotchner: the young lawyer that had taken her rape case in spite of political rejection, who had been the first to pierce the veil of privilege and discover that, beneath it all, there was an innocence to Emily (that was since dead).
It was no surprise that she had lusted after him, then. Loved him, even- though she knew few ways to show love other than sexual favors. He filled a palpable void in her life at that time; she needed someone who cared without conditions, who wanted nothing more than her self- and who asked for nothing but gave everything he could. Aaron Hotchner was someone who managed to care for another human being with such gut-wrenching passion that it was hardly concealable.
But now, as he moved coldly about his office, Emily could see nothing of that man. In fact, she was under the impression that he would pretend their fling never had occurred, if not for that simple gesture of his palm against her back. Now, she was just confused. She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing out loud.
"The first day is always stressful." A woman's voice murmured from behind her. She spun in her chair to find a petite blonde with a friendly smile and bright, all-American face. "Trust me, it seems overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it."
"I didn't get the most friendly welcome from the unit chief," Prentiss admitted in return, "I'm afraid I'm not exactly an invited addition."
The girl frowned- a look most unbecoming, compared to her bright grin. "Who, Hotch? He's always like that- but he's a great guy beneath it all. Really understanding. He's just- he's been here a while. Once you see what we do for too long, you kind of lose touch with your manners, I think." They both laughed. "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ."
"Emily Prentiss." As if she had been invited, JJ plopped down beside her and began explaining the inner workings of the team.
"Hotch is our backbone; he keeps us on task, focused. He doesn't let anyone get hurt or slip through the cracks. Then, there's Gideon: he had a great career in psychology education and criminal behavior before coming back to work at the BAU. He's brilliant- just don't take him by surprise; he's still got some PTSD from a case a year back. Morgan, he's our tough-guy. Real macho, but he's a sweetheart beneath it all. There's Reid, our resident genius. He's only twenty-five, but he has three PhDs. He knows everything about everything. Garcia is our tech master. She's cute and spunky, but never goes into the field because blood makes her cry. Yeah, I think that's about it."
"Wow," Prentiss said sarcastically, "I joined a real cookie-cutter crowd."
"Ha. Hardly." It was Gideon, making a side note in passing. "You'll fit in well, Miss Prentiss."
"As long as she stays on Hotch's good side." Then, Derek Morgan came over and leaned on her desk, grinning charismatically. "He can be a real hard-ass, sometimes." They all shared a laugh- one that was cut short by a quick cough.
"Boardroom, five minutes. We've got a case. And Morgan thanks for that." It was Hotch, looking severe. His expression sent a chill down Emily's spine. A decade ago, she would've thought his stony expression inconceivable. She nodded in response, blushing. He left them just as suddenly.
"What did I tell you?" Morgan chuckled, un-phased. He headed into the boardroom after the unit chief. The others followed suit, with Emily in the rear. By the time she closed the door behind her, there was only one seat available- beside Aaron Hotchner. She sank into it lowly; trying not to look at him. He made no notice of her.
"Three victims in Illinois. All women; victims of sexual assault anti-mortem. The Unsub seems to have a type- younger brunettes, white, of affluent families. The first victim, Carey Price, was the daughter of a senator." He flashed her image on the screen and Emily couldn't help notice that the girl looked just as she had when she was that young. It appeared that Agent Hotchner agreed, because he sent the most discreet look in her direction, though he kept analyzing without hesitation. "Our wheels will go up in twenty- I hope Agent Prentiss has a bag ready."
"I do, Sir."
He nodded in miniscule approval. "Right. See you on the airstrip." Everyone began exiting the room, but Emily lingered behind. Aaron stood with his back to her, facing the board.
She swallowed, uncharacteristically nervous. As an ex-CIA agent, she was used to putting on a brave face: missiles, internal governmental corruption, even faking a love affair with an international terrorist. But facing Aaron Hotchner after all these years- given how desperate she had been back then- was nerve wracking. "They call you Hotch," she started, "I guess I'll call you that, too."
"Call me whatever you like, Agent." He was playing dumb, like he had no recollection of their past. Still. She wondered if he was just as antsy around her, but figured he probably wasn't. He was still handsome, intelligent-and making good money. He was most likely married.
"Okay. I just wanted to tell you- it wasn't my mother who set this up." She slipped over to the door and shut it. "It was-"
"The CIA. Yes, I've been made aware. I spoke to the director this afternoon. My apologies for the mistake."
"Yes, okay. So you're fine with this? Me being here? Because I could request-"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He replied vacantly, touching the image on the screen with his finger. In reality, he didn't want to face her. He had prepped himself in his office- he wouldn't break face around Emily. His feelings impassioned or not, must remain stifled.
"I mean, I just don't want things to be uncomfortable." She was prodding. She wanted to get something, anything- anything to cite that he hadn't forgotten her entirely.
Finally, Aaron spun around. "There's nothing to feel uncomfortable about, Agent. I am your superior; you are part of my team. I will manage you just as I do everyone else." With a noncommittal nod, he headed out into the bullpen. He called over his shoulder, "You have ten minutes left."
A tear slipped down her cheek- stupid, immature, yet permanent. She couldn't help but feel her lower lashes moisten as she used her sleeve to shield her eyes. She found the airstrip by sheer ingenuity and boarded, sitting in between JJ and the young agent Reid, who was playing cards with Gideon across the table. She just wanted to stay as far away from Hotch as possible. JJ turned to her with another bubbly look. "It's so exciting to have another girl around here! Our last agent wasn't much for conversation- let's talk about boys."
Emily had to snigger at the comment; causing Reid to glance up. "Do girls really do that?"
"What?" Asked JJ, "Talk about Boys? Of course."
"Oh. I figured that was some bad nineties media stigma."
Emily gave her new friend a sideways glance- the blonde just shook her head. From the seat behind them, Morgan piped up. "He's –sexually challenged."
Gideon coughed. "Well, he is sure he's not carrying any STDs. You, on the other hand, might consider getting yourself checked out."
"Haha, Old Man. Been there, been checked, done that."
"You mean them. Done them- as in, sleazy women." Everyone kind of chuckled. Emily, though she was enjoying herself, couldn't help but note that Aaron Hotchner sat alone in the back. She gave a sideways glance over her shoulder. "Hotch is fine back there. He's working hard. He doesn't joke until the case is over." Gideon explained.
"Really? I'm amazed he jokes at all." Prentiss retorted. JJ patted her arm, understanding- as women do- that something was strange between the boss and their newest agent. They fell into a silence, broken only when Gideon calmly announced a checkmate to Reid, who proceeded to analyze the game for the rest of the ride.
When they arrived, Hotch dispersed them. "Gideon, you and Reid head to the first crime scene. JJ, you and I will go to the station and meet the police. Morgan, you take Agent Prentiss to the first family- see what you can learn." Morgan led her to an awaiting black SUV.
"So, you and Hotch- already at odds."
"You could say that." Emily didn't want to talk about it all, if that wasn't clear enough, but especially not with a man. She kind of wished she could talk to JJ- maybe, never naming Hotch specifically, but talking about these awful dating predicaments she seemed to find herself in.
"Trouble-maker; you'll fit right in, here." He left it at that, as they pulled into the driveway of a quaint looking townhome. As they got out, Emily couldn't help but note how normal it looked- picturesque, even. She was quickly reminded of how inaccurately an exterior can present the truth. Morgan knocked on the door.
An hour of hysterical crying and sniffling wasn't much of an interview, and the two reported in with about as much as they left with. Hotch seemed neutral, as per usual, but almost disappointed. "Agent Prentiss, JJ will need to train you on how to better conduct an interview to extract information."
Morgan gave him a sideways glance, "Hotch, you're the boss- can't you do that?"
"I didn't ask for a regurgitation of my duties, Agent. It's not your call." Even Morgan seemed taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. He just nodded. "We're breaking for dinner. Gideon, JJ, and I are headed next door to get Chinese." He didn't extend an invite but Morgan followed anyway.
"Derek, I'm not sure we're invited."
"Of course we are. Hotch just woke up on the wrong side of the jet this morning- come on. Just avoid him, we all do when he gets like this." She followed quietly, and felt extremely awkward as they met up with the others in the restaurant.
JJ made a point to run and grab her. "Emily! Hey, I was hoping you'd join us. I figured none of the men had the decency to invite you two. Sit next to me." She did, though that meant she was directly across from Hotch. He never spoke to her, though through the course of the meal, he bumped her a few times with his leg as she uncrossed his ankle from his knee.
"Sorry." He muttered. She nodded, slurping her Lo Mein awkwardly.
"So, Hotch, can I share a room with Emily tonight, please? Reid is nice and all, but I can't paint my nails and gossip with him."
"-Not that you haven't tried." Morgan commented. Even Hotchner chuckled, despite himself.
"Fine. But if I get one noise complaint, you two will be permanently separated." He sounded serious, but everyone else laughed. Emily smiled along.
"Yay!" JJ could be a real girl sometimes, her roommate noted.
That night, the two girls hurried to their hotel room like school children. Slamming the door shut, JJ grinned. "Now, out with it!"
"Out with what?"
"What's with you and Hotch? You have to tell me!"