Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.

This is a gift written especially for destinyisms and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used.

Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter! - Angie

She lay there with her head on the pillow, her cheek resting on her hand as she looked at him, her chocolate brown eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes. "Remember yesterday…on the jet? When everyone was talking about their best Christmas Memory?"

Hotch nodded, studying her alabaster skin; he'd noticed before how striking she was, but this was the first time she'd ever appeared vulnerable to him.

"Morgan told us about the year he and his sisters woke up, and there were brand new bikes under the tree for each one of them; Penelope reminisced about the year when her two older brothers were away at college and had sworn up and down they wouldn't be home for the holiday, but showed up at like…five in the morning."

He nodded again.

She swallowed past the lump of sadness in her throat. "And I realized that…if I've already had my best Christmas yet, then I have a lot of miserable Christmas' ahead of me," she divulged. She shook her head. "Because none of them stick out for me. They were all the same. My parents promised every year that they'd be home for Christmas…and they never came. It was always Lucy—my nanny—and me. And I loved her to pieces. I did. But she wasn't my parents."

"Em…" Hotch said feelingly, reaching for her shoulder and giving it a tender squeeze.

She shrugged."Oh, well," she said dismissively. "I'm an adult now. I should get over it, right?" she asked with a strained laugh.

"I'm not sure if it's something you ever do get over. I think you just sort of…move on," he said softly.

Hotch sighed as he stood at the window; the thick flakes of snow were coming down quickly, covering the yard, but he barely noticed.

He'd overheard Emily's conversation with her mother yesterday, and as was apparently tradition in their family, her parents were deserting her for the holidays. He knew what it was like; he didn't have many happy Christmas memories from his own childhood.

But Haley had changed all that for him. She'd loved the holidays and her enthusiasm had been contagious. While this was his second Christmas without her, it was still hard, but he'd make sure it was a happy one. For Jack. And if he could help it, for Emily.

Hotch strode through the living room and down the hallway to Jack's room. He peeked in and his son was playing with some action figurines. "Hey, buddy," he said.

Jack looked up. "Hi, Daddy."

Hotch grinned at his little boy. "Jack, how would you like to make someone else's Christmas wish come true?"

Emily sighed as she sunk further into the bathtub, the bubbles tickling her chin as the heat from the water enveloped her. She inhaled deeply as the scent of jasmine filled her nostrils, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her book rested on the floor beside the tub, but she decided to forgo it. She could read later in bed. For now, she just wanted to relax.

She'd only been in there for five minutes when she heard a knock on her door. Her eyes flew open and she waited; the knocking turned into a persistent banging and she stood up, quickly wiped herself off and grabbed her silk robe from the hook on the back of the door. She wrapped it around herself, tying the belt on her way to the door. She looked through the peephole and frowned as she unbolted it, then pulled it open.

"Hotch," she said in surprise.

Hotch drank in the sight before him: Emily's hair was held up in a clip, some of the strands sticking straight up, others falling down to frame her face haphazardly. She was wearing an elegant robe, lilac colored that fell all the way to her ankles; her unpainted toenails were peeking out from beneath the flowing fabric.

"Is everything OK?" she asked with urgency in her voice.

"Yes," Hotch said, pulled from his perusal. "Everything is fine. I'm here to…" He looked down at Jack and smiled, then lifted his head to Emily's. "We're here to take you Christmas tree shopping."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Excuse me?"

"Christmas tree shopping, Emily!" Jack exclaimed.

"Hey, Jack," she said with a smile, and then returned her attention to his father. "But…why?" she asked, still befuddled.

Hotch grinned softly at her. "Because we're going to give you the best Christmas you've ever had," he explained.

"Hotch, it's not—"

"We're not leaving here without you," he announced with determination.

She shook her head. "After recent events—"

"Emily," he said softly. "You didn't declare your undying love for me, you didn't come onto me...you were just…" He glanced down at his son. "D-R-U-N-K. You needed someone to talk to, and I happened to be there. I'm not stupid; I know anyone would have done."

She stared at him unblinkingly.

"Is she coming with us, Daddy?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Hotch answered before she could speak. He lifted his eyes to Emily's. "She's going to go get dressed right now, and then she's going to come Christmas tree shopping with us."

His words sounded so much like a command that Emily didn't think twice, just left the door open as she walked away to do what he'd told her to.

"Oh, and Emily?"

She stopped just before she stepped into the living room and turned around, her eyes meeting his.

"It's Aaron. We're not at work, and…I'm Aaron," he informed her, lips twitching.

Emily winced. "I deserved that."

Emily was surprised when they reached a truck and Hotch pulled open the door, lifting Jack into the cab and buckling him in. "What happened to your car?" she asked.

"Nothing," Hotch said with a grin. "I just thought this would be more resourceful if we're bringing a tree home."

Emily nodded and Hotch stood there for a moment as if he were waiting for something. "Oh," she said in a small voice, when she finally realized he was holding the door open for her.

After she climbed in, he closed it behind her, then walked over and got in on the drivers' side.

"Daddy, are we going to stop for hot chocolate on the way home?" Jack asked excitedly from the backseat.

"Absolutely," his father answered.

"Can I have whipped cream and cinnamon on mine?" the little boy continued.

"You sure can, buddy."

Emily sat quietly in the passenger's seat as they made their way to the lot where Hotch and Jack would get their tree, but curiosity ultimately got the best of her. There was something she'd been wondering since she'd woken up in his bed, and she finally had to speak.

"Ho—Aaron?" she asked.

"Yes?" he returned, giving her a quick glance.

"How…" She took a deep breath and tried again, trying to suppress a flush. "How did I get your t-shirt on?"