Chapter 4

December 4, 2008

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Hotch wandered down the steps to the lobby, restless and antsy. The beginnings of cases were always the worst when it came to energy. There was always too much of it and not enough places to or ways to deal with it. So he often walked.

"Emmy, share with your sister."

He stopped at the sound of Emily's voice and the humour he could hear in the rebuke. He'd never met any of his team on his wanders. Who was she talking to? He knew she was an only child and he was sure she didn't have any children...

"Again? But I tell you that story every year!"

Story time? So they were definitely children. He turned the corner to find her curled into an arm of one of the lobby couches. She looked comfortable, delicate, and surprisingly relaxed considering they were currently on a case. Emily had kicked her shoes off and they were neatly settled beside the small smile as he noticed bright pink snowmen on her socks. Sometimes it was terrifying how easy it was for her to surprise him.

"You two must know this story better than I do. Why don't you tell it to me?"

Two children. And the last time he could remember seeing her as relaxed as this was the afternoon she'd spent with Jack in the BAU conference room. He found his heart jumping as he realized again that Emily Prentiss would make a fantastic mother.

He approached her slowly, part of him unsurprised to see the case file spread open in front of her. She was an agent through and through, even while on the phone with two children. He returned the smile she greeted him with and wordlessly asked if he could join her. Surprise flitted over her face, but she nodded.

"Luis," she said with an affectionate smile. "Luis is the stirring mouse." She chuckled before taking a breath. "Emmy and Carrie were all snug in their beds as visions of American Girl dolls danced in their heads."

Hotch smiled, absently flipping through the file she had. Emily had a habit of making notes directly o n the case files beside the information. He'd seen her doing it, but this was the first time he'd had a chance to actually read them.

"When up on the roof there arose such a clatter, I sprung from my bed, to see what was the matter."

He tried to ignore the melodic cadence her voice had taken on with the rhythm of rhyming. She laughed at something one of the girls said and he glanced over at her. She was smiling softly, her eyes sparkling. Her face was an open book of contentment and relaxation and he found himself hoping to see that more often.

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. Alright bed time for you two. Be good for your mom for me, okay?" She laughed. "I'm away for work right now, but I promise to call when I get home. Kiss your mom for me." The smile stayed on her face as she hung up.

"You know that story by heart?"

Emily chuckled slightly. "I used to read it almost every night around Christmas when I was a kid. It's one of my most important traditions.

"Jack loves it too," he answered, closing the file.

"The story version?"

He smiled wryly. "The Bugs Bunny version."

She chuckled. "Always a classic."

"You watch it?" He really shouldn't be surprised by that.

"Every year with my nieces," she replied, starting to pack up the files. "Christmas movies are everyone's tradition."

His brow wrinkled. "Nieces? You're an only child."

Emily nodded. "I met a woman volunteering. She's a single mother with two little girls, Emmeline and Carissa. I keep an eye on them. We've known each other long enough that they're pretty much my 'nieces'." She turned to face him, crossing her legs beneath her.

Not her children. He ignored the relief he felt at that idea. "They're Christmas fanatics?"

"They're tradition fanatics," she replied. "Anne works a lot to support them. I watch them whenever I can and check up on her."

Hotch appreciated her honesty. "How old?"

"Emmy's eight, Carissa's six," she answered. "Both huge girly girls."

He nodded, filing that information away.

"Oh! I was going to tell you this tomorrow, but since you're here, I noticed a few things about the victims I found interesting."

"Interesting?"

She moved closer to him to read the file over his shoulder and he was assaulted by the warm vanilla scent of her. His stomach twisted and his body tensed. They hadn't been this close when they were working together in his office.

"You okay?"

He tried to force himself to relax. "What did you notice?"

"They have a Christmas light tour every year," she began. "I had Garcia look it up and it's a pretty big thing here."

"Okay," he said, willing his body to ignore hers.

"They award the best house and it's prestigious in the community. Turns out that not only have our victims been married to business men who do a lot of traveling for their jobs, but they've all won these awards."

"Is that how he picks his victims?" he asked in a murmur. He felt more than saw her shrug.

"I had Garcia look into the second and third place contestants, people who had won it many times previously who hadn't won it since these women started showing up dead… nothing."

Thoroughness was one of the attributes that made her such a good agent. "Anything else?"

"No," she said with an encouraging smile. "But it's only the first day."

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Do you think he'll kill again?"

Emily shrugged. "His pattern says no."

She tried not to show surprise. She tried to keep her gut instincts under wraps preferring to be able to back them up with facts or figures just in case. "My gut hopes that he's done for the year."

"And if he's not…"

"We know he's devolving."

The way she effortlessly finished his sentence made his heart jump in his chest. "Christmas…"

"It's one person, Hotch," she said, leaning her elbow by his shoulder, either unaware or disregarding how close they were. "Christmas is whatever you want it to be."

"Wise words."

She chuckled a little. Then silence fell. He looked over at her surprised to find a tense look on her face. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she replied, her face relaxing marginally.

He knew it wasn't true, but he knew getting her to open up would require honesty on his part. Emily didn't hide behind agendas and double entendres. She was straight and to the point and had made that clear to him in her first few days at the BAU. More than that, honesty was a necessity in her life, and not just the vague honesty that one could often get away with, but brutal honesty that stripped a person bare of all of their emotions, faults and good traits. Which was why he needed to tread carefully. "My dad used to work through Christmas."

He didn't have to look at her to know he had her attention completely. "Sean and I… it worked better for us that he wasn't home. My mom made Christmas everything she thought it should be. Presents, dinner, decorations…. That's why I love Christmas."

"I used to pretend every year that my cousin's family was mine," she replied softly.

When he looked at her, her eyes had taken on a far-off quality and he frowned. This wasn't a happy memory. Not really.

"Mother worked, which was no surprise. She'd drag me to all of the required functions in December, then ship me back to the states, to Connecticut, to stay with my cousins. My cousin, Sabrina, and I used to have the best Christmases, baking cookies, playing in the snow…"

He could picture a little Emily doing all of those things.

Then she shrugged, an obvious attempt at nonchalance he'd let her have. "Christmas is what you make it."

"Is that what you teach Emmeline and Carissa?"

She smiled at the name of the two little girls. "I make sure they have a Christmas if Anne is too busy. She works so hard for those girls, it's the least I can do. I never get them anything extravagant, I don't want to outdo, Anne, but she and I have an agreement. So long as those girls believe in Santa they'll get the one material gift they want every year, whatever it is."

"It's a good thing you're doing for those girls," he told her frankly, reaching out until his hand rested on her knee, squeezing slightly. "They're lucky to have you."

She blew out a breath. "It's one way to give back," she agreed. "Give someone happiness with all of the sadness and death we see on the job."

"It always comes back to the job."

She smiled sadly.

He squeezed her knee again. "Let's pack this in for the night. Go to bed." He knew she was an insomniac, but that didn't mean he could try to send her to bed anyway. He helped her pack up her files, waited for her to put her shoes back on, then walked with her to her room since it came first.

She turned at her door. "I'm sorry you had to listen to my childhood drama."

He shook his head, both to get the idea of kissing her out of his head and express how he didn't mind. "Everyone has childhood problems."

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

He started off down the hall, his arm tingling, his heart pounding and his head swimming. It wouldn't have taken him much effort at all to lean down and-

"Hotch?"

He turned back in surprise to see her empty-handed, but standing apprehensively in her doorway. He swallowed, trying to tell himself she wasn't about to call him back to ask him to ravage her all night long "Yes?"

"I saw a flyer for a gift wrap tomorrow. If we get the time, would you like to go with me?"

Well he certainly didn't want her going by herself. They were in a different city and she had to know the statistic for a beautiful woman like her. He certainly did. "Gift wrap?"

"Yeah," she nodded, curls bouncing attractively. "Wrapping gifts for needy kids. I would be doing it at home if I was there, the nearest children's shelter usually does theirs this week, but I don't know when I'm going to get home…"

"And you like to do it."

She smiled. "For the kids."

He nodded. "I'd love to."

She blushed again, much to his surprise. "Thanks Hotch. Goodnight."

He found himself smiling as he fell asleep, that blush and the scent of her following her into his dreams.