Chapter 19
December 19, 2008
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"Nah, my money's on Garcia dragging our Morgan here not only onto the dance floor, but under the mistletoe," Dave said, leaning back in his chair.
The males of the BAU team, Reid included, were seated around the table reserved for them at the annual FBI Christmas extravaganza. It was part formal ball, part dinner, part charity auction, always held in some sort of large hotel or conference center. This year was no different. One wall held baskets being raffled off and bid on, while round tables, all numbered and assigned to a team, were scattered about. The tables surrounded a wooden floor set up for dancing once more of the agents in attendance consumed enough alcohol.
"That's not even a bet worth taking," Hotch said. "She manages to do it every year."
"And how am I supposed to know that?" Dave asked with a friendly smile. "I haven't been here for enough time to know the habits of the team."
Hotch had opened his mouth to reply when a pair of hands settled on his shoulders. He stiffened for a split second before vanilla and roses assaulted his senses. That was a smell he knew all too well by now and he really didn't mind allowing Emily Prentiss to get her hands on him.
"Hello, boys," she greeted from above him.
The attention was turned to her and he was suddenly upset that she was behind him.
"Damn girl. I knew you cleaned up nice but... Damn!""
Her laughter rang out from above his head, her hands still in place. "Thanks, I think."
He saw JJ and Garcia make their way around the table. JJ had ended things with Will about a week before, an unfortunate mix between her job and his constant hovering. Hotch had even heard rumours of JJ transferring to make Will happy. He was glad she didn't. He was never sure what they'd do without her. Still, and even with her baby bump, the usually slight blond looked spectacular. Black had been her colour of choice since she'd started to show and this was no different. The dress accented both her bump and the changes in her body. She'd finished the look with delicate earrings and a single, sparkling diamond around her neck. Hotch managed not to react to the way Dave was almost drooling.
"Why Miss Jareau, you look absolutely stunning."
And was that a blush he saw creeping over JJ's face at Dave's words? Was there seriously something in the air? "You do look beautiful, JJ."
"Thank you," the other woman said sincerely, taking the seat Dave held out for her.
"You're not so bad either, Mama," Derek said to Garcia as the other woman took a seat between him and Reid. "You certainly know how to pick a dress."
Garcia's dress was a deep green and, much like JJ"s stunning in its simplicity. "Why thank you, Hot Stuff."
Now all Hotch had to see was the woman still standing behind him. She's absently started digging her fingers into his back – though both his jacket and Oxford shirt – and he was torn between seeing her and keeping her hands on him.
"But we aren't the best part," Garcia said.
It was then he caught his first glimpse of a siren in the flesh. He'd always loved red on Emily, but this took the cake. It was held up by thick spaghetti straps and looked almost like it pinned just short of her left side. But that wasn't the best part. The best part was how it accented her body, her curves, her chest. Her hair was pinned back at the sides, curly, just the way he loved. He was sure stronger men would fall to her spell and he was no saint. She was going to kill him and never even know it.
"You're all beautiful," Reid said, his words awkwardly sincere, even as he gawked at Emily. Hotch wracked his brain for the last time Reid would have seen his colleague in a dress like this. The Viper case, maybe, but she'd been out in a different kind of man-eater dress that night. That had looked damn hot on her too.
But Hotch couldn't take his eyes off of Emily, so much so that it was Dave that pulled her chair out for her, helping to push her in when she was seated.
Her lips twitched upwards. "You're staring," she said quietly.
"I'm trying to find a word better than 'beautiful'," he quipped back, forgetting the team for that split second.
A blush washed over her cheeks. "Thank you."
"It's my pleasure."
It had been a long time since they'd been able to have a night out. It had been even longer since that night out had been all of them, and even longer than that since it had been one that hadn't been for work. Each and every team member was taking advantage of the holiday season to let loose, to joke, kid and Hotch was really enjoying himself. Here he was, at a function made mandatory by Erin Strauss, and he was having the most fun he'd had in a long time. He'd chalk the large majority of that up to the dark-haired woman to his left.
Even now, as the first course came around for their late dinner, he and Emily were sitting as close as they could while still maintaining the look of colleagues. She wrinkled her nose at the cucumbers in her salad. He took them without thought, as he usually did, at the same time JJ all but tossed the older woman her tomato. Food trading was normal around the BAU and it seemed that formal functions made it no different, especially since he'd been picking at the crust of Emily's bread since she pulled out the middle.
"Monks is already hammered," Derek murmured. "We haven't even hit the main course yet."
"Hit the main course, we've barely started," JJ replied, her voice taking on disapproval and warning. "Em..."
Emily sighed. "I know. I'll watch my back."
Hotch's blood pressure jumped. Why would Emily have to watch her back?
"Because Monks tried very hard not only to pinch her ass last year but to get her drunk enough to go home with him," JJ answered.
Hotch hadn't even realized he'd voiced the question aloud. He turned his gaze to Emily. "Did he-"
"Gosh no, that's gross," she replied, eyes widening. "No. Pen, Jayje and I just kept an eye out and an eye on my drinks."
All that did was placate him. It still twisted his gut and heated his insides in anger to know someone had tried to go through that with her. He noticed the glint in Garcia's eyes, even before she opened her mouth.
"And he's not the only one. Seems Miss Prentiss is quite the popular hottie."
He didn't miss Emily's roll of her eyes. "It is way too difficult for a girl to have a night out with her friends these days," she said, shaking her head.
The rest of dinner passed while Hotch tried to calm himself down. He realized the feeling was jealousy, possessiveness, but it didn't seem like there was anything he could think of that would settle the raging going on inside him. How dare any man treat someone as unique and special as Emily Prentiss like a piece of meat! She was so much more than that and it bothered him that she was thought of in such primitive terms, even if it was by a group of highly intoxicated men.
Music started just as dessert was being served and while he wanted nothing more than to drag the beautiful woman on his left onto the floor, the way her eyes lit up when the crepe was set in front of her made him rethink that, if only for the moment. Others, however, seemed drunk enough to continually drop by the table to ask if SSA Prentiss would honour them with a dance.
"Can a girl just eat her dessert around here?" she asked quietly, loud enough only for him to hear.
"Can you blame the men for wanting to dance with you?" he asked with a cheeky smile.
She shot him a glare. "Do not start with me. We are not on the clock tonight."
He chuckled. "Eat your crepe. And try not to shoot anyone tonight."
Emily arched an eyebrow. "You've seen my dress, Hotch. Where am I going to keep a gun?"
There was something he didn't want to think about, especially with the alcohol he'd consumed. Both of his glasses were empty now, and if he wanted to keep himself sane, he would need to keep them that way. Because his mind had drawn up some of the most detailed pictures of where she could keep a gun and he was currently feeling slightly uncomfortable. He was a mixture of upset, jealous and thankful. Getting a reprieve from her was something he seemed to need.
Meanwhile, Dave managed to whisk JJ onto the floor and Hotch smiled at the smile that seemed pasted across both of their faces, the same smile that accompanied Garcia's laughter from the edge of the floor. He took a few minutes to simply watch his team, grinning and laughing when Emily came by the table to grab Reid, shooting him an almost playful glance. Dave joined him not long after, having surrendered JJ to Reid at Emily's insistence.
"You've been sitting here all night," the older man said.
Hotch shot him a knowing glance. "You haven't."
Dave shrugged. "Even when you see it coming a break up can be difficult."
"And you're taking full advantage," Hotch nodded.
"And why aren't you? Most of the people here are too drunk to care."
Hotch sighed. He knew she was as aware as he was that things had changed between them. He'd seen it in her eyes, saw the slight tinge of disappointment mixed with the awareness and confusion in her deep dark eyes when the elevator had arrived after their lunch. Still, now that it had happened, he wasn't fully sure how to proceed.
"There's mistletoe around, drunk agents that won't remember their names come morning, and a woman who is incredibly hot, sexy, beautiful-"
"You don't have to list her attributes to me, Dave," he said, standing and buttoning his jacket. It was time for him to take another step, to push them both just that little bit further, see how she reacted and gauge his next move from there. It helped that she was trying to separate herself from her latest dance partner. Hotch had to hold himself back from charging to her rescue when the man's hands dipped a little too low for his liking. "Mind if I cut in?"
From the look on the man's face, he did mind, but Emily looked so relieved when he swept her into his arms that he didn't care so much. Actually, he didn't care at all.
"Thank you," she said, breathing out a sigh of relief.
"I'm not one to give up an opportunity," he replied, twirling her under his arm.
Her eyes lit up. "And you can actually dance."
"Of course I can," Hotch answered almost indignantly. "My mother raised me right."
"I forget you were raised in a semi-political family."
"Semi?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "We are political."
"It's odd to think that we ran in different circles, but the same game," she said.
To him, it was obvious that the alcohol she'd consumed was still playing a part in her words, but he could also tell she was coherent enough to make decisions. It made him feel better knowing that while her inhibitions were down, she was in complete control of herself. "Until I showed up to run security checks on her people."
"Even then, you were security. We still didn't run in the same circles," Emily said, following him easily.
He marvelled at how easily he found dancing with her. "I should have known you'd be an excellent dancer."
She blushed. "Ballet," she replied.
"You did ballet?" He pulled her close, closer than they had been throughout the song so far. He'd thought her excellent posture came from politics, not from years of strict dance.
"Of course," she replied. "Hated almost every minute of it."
"It's served you well."
"Thank you," she said with a wide smile.
They stopped talking as he complicated the steps slightly and Emily followed along perfectly. She certainly was something. Dave had been right. She was unique, smart, successful, and more than that, she understood that his job was more than just that. His job was who he was, not just what he did and she knew it was important to him. She'd been the one to make the adaptations when his hearing was down. And she could dance, probably better than he could.
They could both tell the song was nearing the end. Hotch felt a little cheated. It hadn't been a full song after all, not even most of one. He moved to step back as the song came to a close, at the same time it smoothly transitioned into the familiar timing of a waltz. He watched her eyes, the way the emotion in them shifted to something a little mischievous.
"Tell me, Agent Hotchner, do you waltz?"
There was a challenge in her eyes he couldn't deny. "Like the best."
And so they were off. Part of him realized she was letting him lead, allowing her body to follow the steps he set out for them. He had no delusions as to ability to lead him had he not done the dance justice. It seemed second nature to him and so it was easy to lead her in twists and turns around the people on the floor. As the song came to a close, his body moved on its own accord, dipping her romantically. He felt Emily's breath catch in her throat from the hand on her back. He straightened her slowly ensuring she had both feet firmly on the ground before reluctantly letting go.
She was red and flushed from exertion, her eyes bright. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and ravage her, plunder her mouth, taste that exposed neck. But they were at a Bureau Christmas party, with agents watching from all angles. He knew he couldn't.
"Drink?" he offered.
"After that? Please," she agreed, taking his offered hand.
They spent the rest of the night pretty much side-by-side, perusing the baskets, chatting politely with other agents and socializing with their own team. Even Strauss stepped by to wish them all happy holidays. For Hotch it really was. He and the rest of the team were on stand down for the week of Christmas, partially of his doing, and partially of Garcia's. With all of the fantastic work they'd done, his team deserved a break.
It wasn't until the end of the evening he asked her how she planned on getting home.
"Cab," she replied. "I wasn't sure if driving would be safe."
"I'll give you a ride," he said as they both made their way to the coat check. They both handed over their tickets and he helped her into her coat after he'd shrugged his on.
"It's out of your way," she argued. "A cab is fine, Hotch."
"It's not," he insisted. "And I'd feel better knowing you got home safe."
"I've gotten myself home safely before," she quipped, but hooked her arm in his offered elbow.
He pulled open the passenger door of his sedan in the hotel's underground parking lot and waited for her to climb in before closing the door and heading around to his side. His radio was tuned to a radio station playing Christmas music which he left playing softly in the background.
"What are your plans for our week off?" she asked quietly, her voice just carrying over the music.
"I get Jack on Sunday," he said. "I'll pick him up Sunday after dinner and I don't have to drop him off with Haley until noon on Christmas day."
Emily smiled softly. "That sounds like a fantastic week for both of you."
"I'm certainly looking forward to it," he replied, skilfully manoeuvring the car through the streets. "We'll decorate a tree, probably go skating... You should bring Carissa and Emmeline and we'll go."
"Skating?" she asked, a little surprised. They were already going tree hunting together tomorrow and he already wanted to make plans with her for the following week.
"Yes," he agreed. "Tuesday?"
With a deep breath, Emily silenced the worrying voices in her head. "Sure, I'll just have to check with Anne."
"You should come anyway," he told her softly.
He caught a glimpse of the shy look on her face when he glanced her way. "I'll think about it."
They both absorbed themselves in the music until he pulled to a stop in front of her building.
"Thank you, Hotch," she said.
He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't trust you to walk up the front steps in those shoes without slipping on ice," he told her cheekily as he climbed from the car and jogged to her side.
"First of all," she said, accepting the hand he held out to her anyway. "These are by far not the most dangerous pair of shoes I own, and secondly, I made my way to the curb, what makes you think I can't walk up my own front steps?"
"Humour me, Emily," he told her, locking the doors and starting up the walk with her. She greeted the bellman happily as they made it through the front door and went to stand in front of the elevator.
"Well, I think I made it," she told him, pressing the button for the elevator.
"So you did," he agreed, reluctantly letting go of her and stepping away.
"Miss Prentiss?" they heard the bellman call.
"Yes?"
The poor man looked almost embarrassed as he cleared his throat again. "Um... mistletoe, ma'am."
They both looked up. Sure enough, there hung a small sprig of mistletoe. Hotch's face went soft as he leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek, longer than it needed to be. This time he heard her breath catch in her throat as he slowly pulled back. Her pupils had dilated with the touch, so much so that her attraction was obvious.
Looking back on the moment, he'd never be able to tell who initiated that first real kiss, just that she tasted of cinnamon and fruit. Her lips parted at the slightest touch of his tongue and he was offered the chance he'd been hoping for. There was no hesitation in his kiss then, one hand winding around her back to splay across the bottom of her spine as the other threaded itself through her soft curls. Her hands had fisted in the open lapels of his winter coat. He heard the elevator ding its arrival and pulled away reluctantly.
"Good night, Emily," he said, aware that his voice was husky. Her eyes were glazed, her brain obviously not working. So much so that the elevators slid closed while they still stood there. He stepped back from her slowly his hands coming to remove hers from his jacket. She shivered and it seemed to snap her out of the trance he put her in.
"Would you like to come up?"
The surprise that flitted over her face was almost too fast to catch, but he did and smiled softly. "Yes," he admitted. "But no."
She arched an eyebrow. "Well which one is it."
He stepped closer again, effortlessly fitting her hips to his. "I want to, but not tonight."
Her eyes stayed locked on his as her hands cupped his elbows. "Is this your declaration of intent, Hotch?" she asked quietly.
He wanted to kiss her again, but refrained. "Consider it a promise," he said.
Later, he would wonder what strength had helped him pull away from the dynamic woman he could have had right then and there. He walked back to his car, a little extra spring in his step. He had made his intentions clear, and if he had his way, he wanted to prove to her that he was serious. She'd made her own declaration into inviting him upstairs, but he didn't want to rush things.
Emily Prentiss was not a woman one rushed with and he fully planned on taking his time to savour her.
This not only makes up for every short chapter (according to , without this author's note says the chapter is 3,547 words), but every time I was late (I'm 7 hours early from my usual midnight or passed posting!) and every time I pulled back from making them finally take that step foward into a relationship. As a result, I'm really looking forward to your reviews for this baby! I had fun writing it, actually, so I hope you guys really enjoyed it.