Chapter 9

December 9, 2008

--

Emily woke slowly the next morning, warm and only slightly sore. What actually surprised her was what she could feel that wasn't normal. She knew the smell of her travel pillow. More often than not it smelled like her hair and her laundry detergent from sleeping on it and keeping it in her bag. This pillow, the one she was currently and comfortably laying on, definitely didn't smell like her pillow. What was even more disconcerting was that it didn't feel like her pillow either. The last time she checked, her pillow didn't breathe, either.

She had to admit, however, she was extremely comfortable, and that was saying something, considering she'd spent her night sleeping on the floor. She remembered how she'd ended up where she was, surprisingly curled up against Hotch as if he was the greatest teddy bear. Well, she now knew he made a good pillow, so the teddy bear couldn't be that far off. That wasn't the only thing she could feel, however. Somehow Hotch had managed to creep a hand under her coat and under her blouse so it rested warmly on the bottom of her spine. The wicked part of her wondered if she could come up with a way to ask him how he'd managed to do that, simply to see the reaction.

She took stock of the rest of her body, of the way her legs were inexplicably wrapped and tangled with his and the way her hand was curled into a fist in the lapel of his jacket. She blinked her eyes open, unsurprised to find the lights on and the heater working. In fact, she was feeling a little warm cuddled like she was and there was no way she was going to allow her mind to chalk it up to the man she was sleeping against.

She managed to extract herself from his arms carefully without waking him up, Emily gathered her things and heading to the bathroom. It wasn't the first time she'd had to go about her morning routine in a public bathroom, but she never did enjoy it. So she made quick work of washing her face and fixing her ponytail, swapping her winkled and slept in blouse for a fresh one.

She wasn't surprised to find Hotch was gone when she returned to the conference room. Coffee was the next thing on her mind as she made her way to the break room where she found a sight to behold. Hotch had returned to the hotel to freshen up with Dave the previous day and thus, only had the shirt he'd slept in. But Emily felt her stomach tighten and her mouth dry up at the picture a rumpled Aaron Hotchner made. His hair wasn't as perfectly combed as it usually was. His shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in it and his pants weren't neatly pressed. Emily really liked this Hotch.

"Good morning," she greeted softly.

"Good morning," he replied. "Coffee?"

She took the proffered mug. "Thank you." She took a sip, her eyes falling closed. Profilers. It was just the way she liked it.

"How did you sleep?"

"Really well," she replied without thinking, hiding her blush and smile behind another sip of coffee.

"I'm glad," he answered. "Sheriff Tyde said the power came back on early this morning."

"And the heat with it," Emily agreed. She blushed as her stomach growled loudly.

"These are for us," he said, the corner of her mouth tilting up slightly. Beside him was a box of baked goods.

"Are they?" she inquired, her eyes lighting up. She stepped towards him and pulled a blueberry scone from the box. "Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day."

--

Hotch's eyes followed her as she leaned herself against the counter next to him. He'd gone to sleep with her cuddled against him, her smell in his nose and her trim figure tight to his. When he woke, she was over at her bag. Actually, her shifting and stretching had woken him. He was simply happy she hadn't noticed the state his body had woken in. So, he'd pretended to be asleep when the cold that followed the absence of her body heat woke him. Then, when he was sure she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her quietly he'd risen and run into the sheriff. After being informed that it would probably be his way to the coffee maker. He'd just finished adding the cream to hers when she'd stepped in.

"Why breakfast?" he asked, more than willing to take the time to learn another little detail about the fascinating brunette. He'd started lapping up every moment with her since learning about her talent for arts and crafts. He'd started a little mental file on her the night they'd spend hours upon hours pouring over consults.

Since then, he'd learned a few things about her, and a few other things he'd simply cemented away. He'd learned she was a largely sarcastic woman. Sure, she'd always taken a large amount of pleasure in teasing her colleagues and always known she was a quick thinker, but he'd never realized how far that actually went. Then he'd learned about her 'nieces'. He'd known Emily Prentiss was a mother. She did it with the team, it had come out with some of the victims they'd encountered, and then there was the easy interaction between Emily and his son. He should have known she was a natural with children.

The ease with which she'd turned back into Agent Prentiss in the hotel lobby only a few days ago while still looking adorably feminine without shoes and curled into the couch startled him. And turned him on. And he knew chocolate had always been a weakness. The way her eyes had sparkled when the children had come carolling had only drawn him to her more.

"The food," she replied, snapping him from his reflections. "Pancakes, bacon, eggs, French toast..."

"Scones." He waved to the pastry in her hand.

Emily grinned. "Scones, croissants... oh! Chocolate croissants!"

Hotch laughed at her exuberance. This childish side of the usually reserved woman was a sight to behold. The light in her eyes, the relaxed posture, the ease with which she leaned against the counter all served to only enhance her beauty.

"Come on! It's chocolate and flakey pastry in the same food! And Belgian waffles with strawberries and ice cream."

He felt his gut clench at the groan she let loose. He had to clear his throat before speaking. "That good, huh?"

--

Emily felt heat rise in her cheeks as she glanced up at her unit chief briefly. There was something in his eyes that she would have never expected to see. Was she really seeing the heat of attraction in his eyes? She couldn't be. It just wasn't possible. He was her boss. She closed her eyes, mentally berated herself for seeing what she wanted to. It just wasn't a possibility and getting her hopes up would just be stupid.

"So Tim Clark's alibi checks out for his wife's death," Derek said hours later, taking a seat at the conference table after just getting off the phone. "Where'd Em go?"

"Holly Sadler called back," Hotch answered. "She took the call."

"First victim's daughter, right?" Derek asked, flipping through the files that were spread haphazardly about the table. It was inevitable when they worked over thirty-six hours straight. "Berkley."

"What do we know about Mason Sadler?" Hotch asked.

"I can answer that question," came the cheery voice of their best secret weapon. Her face popped up on the laptop in front of Reid, making the genius jump. "Honey, you are too tense if you're jumping at my pretty face."

"Sorry, Garcia," he apologized. "What did you find?"

"His mother."

"I'm sorry?"

"Mason's mother was Natty Sadler, a famed interior decorator originally from New York City."

"Okay..." Reid said, his forehead wrinkling.

"Here's where it starts to come together. The woman catered to the elite, not surprising since she was from New York. She met Harry Sadler before becoming famous and moved back to Bozeman Montana with him when his father passed away. Mason was four at the time."

"Get to the point, Garcia," Hotch ordered, standing with his arms folded at the other end of the room.

"Well, she started with flying back and forth but eventually, her style couldn't keep up with the tastes of Hollywood. She fell into a depression, looks like both of her boys went to the hospital a few times. Except that first week of December. She took to the light competition like her last lifeline, won it a few years too, but eventually started falling down the ranks until she took her own life."

Reid wrinkled his nose. "What does that mean?"

"Depends on how much Natty Sadler was like her daughter-in-law," Emily answered, stepping back into the room. "I just finished on the phone with Holly. Victoria Sadler was a force to be reckoned with when it came to Christmas decorations and she took losing the light competition hard."

"Hard?" Hotch asked raising an eyebrow as he made his way to her side. It was subconscious on his part, but didn't go unnoticed by Dave or Derek.

"Sounds like if Victoria didn't win the competition, she'd sulk for weeks. Holly credits all of her happy Christmases to her father."

"Running Victoria Sadler...." Garcia said, her fingers all but racing over the keys. "Depression. Prescription for Lithium."

Sheriff Tyde chose that moment to step in. "We've got lab results."

"Results?"

"DNA," the sheriff responded with a smile."Off of the lights."

"Someone made a boo-boo," Emily murmured, a triumphant smile tilting the corners of her mouth. "Our favourite kind too."

"PD collected all of the lights at the scene. We found the string that most likely killed Lily Clark. There was a second DNA doner just above where Lily Clark's DNA was found," the sheriff said.

Hotch felt his heart speed up, as it always did when they were close on their UNSUB's heels. "Who?"

Sheriff Tyde smiled. "Mason Sadler."

Have I mentioned how much I love the overwhelming response I've gotten for this? I wrote one last year, same fandom, and didn't get half as much response. Honestly, I think that was the first Hotch/Prentiss on this particular site, but I'm almost positive there was more of a focus on Reid/JJ and Garcia/Morgan. At least until the end. Who knows, more often than not my stories end up being completely different than when I started.

Anyway! Now that I've ranted for who knows how many words, the point was to say thank you. It's always fantastic to get upwards of 15 reviews a chapter, a response I never expect when I write. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. I'm having fun writing it.

I think.

Oh, and they're heading back to Quantico soon! And oh my gosh do I have plans for Emily and Hotch and Jack and Emily's 'nieces'...