Hello everyone. Thanks for nurturing my frail ego, it's very nice of you. And special thanks to Hotchlover and Silent Anonymous, since I could not send you guys a reply.
Apologies again for grammar and spelling, don't hesitate and let me know if you spot errors.
I hope you like what's coming.

Oh, disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Nor do I own the lyrics, which belong to NOFX's The longest line.

Prentiss stepped out of Hotch's room and was confronted by reality. She had to put on an, if not happy, at least a content face. Or, at the very least, a face that didn't make her look as if her life had just blown up on her. Damn it! It looked like perfectly nice Mick had to take one for the team, even if he didn't know he was part of the team or who the other members were. Because there was no way she could tell JJ that she hadn't stayed with Mick without telling her where she had spent the night.

Anger, born from the horrible situation in which she was and into which she was now pulling other people, tainted her cheeks deep red. To some extent, that was good. JJ knew her. She knew that Prentiss would blush if she was coming back from a guy's room the morning after. Allowing her cheeks to flame then, she knocked and waited.

A very sleepy JJ opened the door and let her in, a teasing smirk on her face, "How was your night? Good company?"

Emily shot her a false mocked annoyed look, a cover for what was really lying beneath. She pondered what JJ would say if she actually knew who her company had been and how badly she had screwed her night.

Knowing that she exuded the smell of sex and fearing that traces of Hotch's personal scent also lingered around her, Emily quickly asked, in her most nonchalant tone, "Can I shower first?"

"Sure…." JJ slurred, "You can tell me all about last night after you shower…" she paused for effect, "Oh… you mean before I take a shower? Of course, go ahead," she finished still smirking at Prentiss.

She didn't even bother to roll her eyes, preferring to stride into the bathroom before JJ continued her triad or she snapped at her for no apparent reason.

After that, they followed their organized routine with the precision of a firefighter squad and with minimal teasing. At some point JJ had picked up that, if she didn't cut it off, Prentiss would not hesitate and simply shoot her.

They were checking out before anyone else, crumbling the old myth that says that women spend more time getting ready than men do.

As they waited, JJ strangely remaining silent, Emily thought that she only had to face the rest of the team now. That was a pleasant thought. Morgan, Reid when he paired with Morgan, Rossi with his much more discreet and much sharper remarks. Great. A five hours flight with them teasing her. Awesome. She slid her sunglasses on and begged that it was enough to keep them at bay. Yeah, right, and then you can ride a unicorn to go visit Santa and ask for world peace for this Christmas, she replied herself.

Cooper was the next to check out, then Gina. Everything was safe so far. With any luck, she though as she sat on one of the tacky chairs that one could say adorned the lobby, everyone else would come down with barely enough time to check out and then they would drive to the airport.

But she had no luck. Along with Prophet came Morgan and Reid, the three giggling like high school girls.

Before he even approached the front desk, Morgan practically shouted, the perpetual grin dressing up his face, "Look who's wearing shades… anything to be embarrassed of, Prentiss?"

The glare she threw on his direction passed though her dark glasses as if they were magnifying ones.

"Hm, cranky too… sleep deprivation can cause that," Reid pitched in.

Rotating her neck in that way that was a clear threat to anyone around her, she muttered, "If you don't shut your mouths, I swear to God…"

"That sounds as if she had a hangover, if I remember Vegas correctly," said JJ, taking the risk now that she wasn't alone.

She could not see them, but she was sure the people from the other team were chortling too. She closed her eyes. Fuck her and her stupid night of self loath, her need to be noticed by a guy and her even more stupid crave for another. She hadn't been this stupid since College. And even then she had been more reserved.

"Oh, come on, girl, everyone's allowed a night of fun," Morgan's voice told her from somewhere behind her.

Yes, fun… that was the irony of the century. It should have been a fun night. It should have cleared her head, make her see that there was something else, that there was no need to jump from one night to another somewhere in the undefined future, that there was a guy, another guy with whom she could be a real couple instead of pretending.

"Even Reid had a few," the voice said.

"Please, Emily, there's no shame on spending the night with a hot…" That was JJ and, for some reason, she had stopped midsentence.

She opened her heavy lids; she hadn't noticed she was this tired until now, but with the night she had had, she wasn't surprised. But soon her lids woke up and went all the way up.

Mick was at the front desk and Rossi was coming down the hall with Hotch.

Silence rose while Mick wrapped things up with the clerk.

How much of the sassy comments he had heard, she did not know. How well he would take them, she did not know either. She could only pray that the man she had left aroused and unsatisfied and that had been so incredibly understanding would bear this embarrassment with her.

As Hotch checked himself and Rossi out, Mick turned and surveyed the scene. Then he looked at her and squinted.

Gazes from everyone began to bounce back and forth from her to Mick, and she felt as if she was in a perverse tennis match.

When a tease delivered by one of his team mates finally landed on Mick's lap and he smiled at them bashfully and smugly, she breathed again. Oh, she should love this man. She should pay his mortgage, his gas expenses and his long distance calls to England or any other place on the planet.

Mick smirked openly at her then, and a real, honest to God thankful smile stretched her lips.

Turning on her hills so Mick couldn't see her but Prentiss couldn't avoid her, JJ rounded her eyes and exaggerated a soundless WOW.

Everyone else –minus Hotch, Rossi and Cooper- kind of chuckled. Prophet shamelessly bumped Mick's arm with his fist and Morgan shook his head in approval of the gesture. Rossi, not willing to be left out but yet too much of a gentleman to taunt her in public, rose his eyebrows at her. God, no Rossi too. She could zigzag her way around the others, Hotch included, but not Rossi. Lying to Rossi was like lying to your cool uncle. Impossible. He had actually been there and done that before you were born.

"Let's go," Hotch's grim voice cut the air. "We have to be at the airport in half an hour," he added and no one doubted it was an order.

Everyone picked up their bags and, at different rhythms, they walked out. Emily purposefully was the last one to reach the street.

As she had expected, there were three vans. Cooper's team took one, Morgan, Reid and JJ strolled towards another and Hotch and Rossi headed to the third. Good, she thought.

As she followed Rossi, the safest van in the bunch as far as she was concerned, she heard JJ, "What? Not riding with your boyfriend?"

Emily glared at her because, had the assumptions about last night been correct, she would have. However, for better or for worse, she was riding with her… pretend boyfriend? Steady fake boyfriend? Only now and then and when they were both up to it just for tonight boyfriend? Former any of the above boyfriend?

Whatever, she thought regaining the angry feeling from before. She would have half an hour without remarks, teases or comments about her sex life. And, more important, without any questions. No one was going to ask her how it had happened, how it had been or if they were planning on seeing each other again.

Since Rossi wasn't a morning person and Hotch could not be curious about her night, not that he would have ever showshown it, had he had anything about which he could be curious, she got a little bit of peace for the first time in… she really didn't care to do the math.

She was looking out the window, glad that the sun was coming up. When the sun was up and they were in their job personas, her mind didn't wonder about all the things that had troubled her last night. However, she sighed, this morning might not be like the others. Not unless the half hour drive cooled everybody off and they decided to act like adults. Which, she had to admit, didn't seem like it was going to happen. It sucked. She could not put last night behind her when people did nothing but remind her of it. She should have been more discreet. Now they were all talking about her sex life. God, so embarrassing!

When they arrived at the airport, she saw the other vans already parked and empty. Parked was reasonable. Empty, however, meant that their drive had taken at least five more minutes than the others. As she got off the car, she decided she preferred not to think about why Hotch had driven so slowly. The possible reasons were disturbing.

Her face must have shown something because Rossi gave her that sideways, one eye slightly narrowing, something's-not-right-here look.

She highly appreciated the fact that Rossi refrained from saying anything, limiting himself to cast another loaded look at her before he hurried away to safe her the discomfort of sharing an odd, silent walk.

Throwing her overnight bag over her shoulder, she cursed under her breath. The god damn thing had hit her bruise. The pain slowed her pace.

Once again behind her group, she watched as Hotch walk fast up to the plane. Damn it! She was not thinking about him. She was not going down that spiral. Damn it!

Trying not to display much of any emotion, be that anger, annoyance, embarrassment, guilt and/or gratitude, all of which she was feeling towards different people, she boarded the jet alone.

It was packed. Of course it would. They were having guests. She should have known that not many seats were going to be available. In fact, there were only three. Passing by the seat the three gossiper old ladies –namely JJ, Reid and Morgan, none of whom had cooled off- had surely saved for her, she glided to the back of the plane as graciously as she could manage.

Tough decision. Gina, Prophet and Mick on one side of the alley; Hotch, Rossi and Cooper on the other. Knowing that at the very least six pairs of eyes were fixed on her and that howling would be heard as soon as her rear touched the cushion, she put all the politeness her mother had taught her in her question, "May I?"

Half mocking her tone, half mocking her, Prophet answered, "By all means, please, do so."

She sat trying to shake the impulse to smack him –he didn't know her well enough to make fun of her- and, as she had expected, chuckles and one not really quiet howl were heard. She glared at no one in particular, therefore, at everyone that had made a sound.

"Fasten your seatbelts, we're about to take off," Hotch said as detached and solemn as he had always been.

They exchanged a look. A completely void look. Nothing at either end of the look. Of course he was normal Hotch. She wasn't expecting anything different. As a matter of fact, Hotch being just Hotch was reassuring.

She crossed her legs in that style of hers that was utterly feminine, not that she was aware of it, and took her book from her bag, keeping her eyes to herself. She was, however, mapping her surroundings. To her right, Prophet. Mick and Gina on the seats opposite to her, Mick on her diagonal, Gina in front of her. Across the alley, an empty seat to her left and Cooper on the next. Rossi by the window and by his side, on her diagonal, Hotch. Behind Mick and Gina, Reid by the window, JJ in front of him and Morgan at her side.

It did not escape her that Hotch, Mick and she shaped a rather equilateral triangle. A fact that had no relevance whatsoever.

Staring at the marked page of her book, she realized that her eyes were too scorched to focus. In fact, her eyeballs seemed to be drying out with each passing second. And every time she blinked, her eyelids gained more and more weight. Unconsciously, she began to slacken onto the comfortable back of the seat, her arms lost all muscular tone as they laid on the armrests and her fingers relaxed on her lap.

As she dozed off, she told herself it was absolutely reasonable to snooze given that she had had less than four hours of sleep per night for the past four days. If anything, everyone else being awake was a wonder.

In that state between awareness and oblivion, when the mind can amble freely but it is not completely shut off from the world, she heard the voices around her drifting away, becoming unintelligible. Simultaneously, her thoughts came to stand on the frontline.

Hotch.

Hotch… She had been analyzing their thing all night, but you can't trust your assess of a situation when you're literally immersed in it, so…

The rational part of her brain took the floor. Did he really bear that much weight over her? Enough to make her feel like she had felt last night? Because, seriously, how long had it been? It was April 2010 now and they had begun in… October. Yes, early October 2008. That gave… she counted and then recounted. Yeah, that gave eighteen months. The number surprised her… Ok, she told herself, eighteen months seemed like a lot, but wasn't. Because they had spent… how many nights together? Let's say… an average of twice a month for the past eighteen, that's thirty-six nights. Rounded up, forty nights, give or take a few. Ok, ok, maybe more like fifty, because there were those months… Yes, let's say fifty.

Ok, so fifty. Give or take. Over a year and a half. That's not a lot. It's not. Not if compared to regular couples. Couples, even those that don't get along as well as they did, spend easily five times their average of nights together. That without adding all the extra time. Lunches, dinners, weekends, maybe a getaway or a vacation, not to mention the couples that move in together.

Therefore, even when the span in time gave the impression of something… steady, the amount of time they actually shared did not. It was just for tonight grown out of proportion. And, by its own nature, it didn't add up to anything.

However, another part of her mind intervened, the time they did share… The time they did share would bring shame to couples that were, by any standard, perfect. Their just for tonight nights kicked JJ's and Garcia's most perfect nights in the butt. Seriously, she and Hotch kicked ass.

And she didn't mean the sex. No. She meant everything else. She meant… she meant…

Even in her sleep she sighed. She meant… she meant… Damn it! She meant discussing Strauss late at night on bed, staring at the ceiling while they played with their hands. She meant the way in which he caressed her head when he thought she was asleep. She meant grossing him up when they were having breakfast just for a laugh and actually getting a laugh. She meant reviewing cases in their pajamas and consulting one another and kissing in the middle of a sentence just because. And reprimanding him for not taking care of the scars. And fighting over how reckless they were sometimes or something meaningless like rain the soap after using it. And hear him cracking jokes out of the blue over something she said. And staring and drawing the other one to speak. She meant hearing stories about Jack. And how he tickled her when they made out, and god, when they were making out and they were so into the kiss they forgot they were supposed to be having sex. She meant the butterflies she felt when he was brewing coffee and knowing that if she ran her fingers up and down his spine he quivered. God!

It was so sad all of the sudden. Because all those corks and jerks, those tiny things and the other ones, and all the trust and the truth that swarmed them in those just one nights, they had nailed it. They worked. Even if it was just during those few hours splashed over months and month, during those times, their little pretense world was really perfect. So sad.

She shuddered and it disturbed her slumber. She opened her eyes briefly. Some time must have passed because no one was where they had been before.

Her head dropped to the left and she began to doze again, hearing bits and pieces of different conversations.

"How come they didn't share rooms?" Asked Ried.

"Cooper paid," was that Rossi?

"And how come you and Hotch didn't share a room while the rest of us had to?"

"Seniority." Yes, Rossi. And seniority her ass, she chuckled rather loudly for a person that is half asleep. Rossi wouldn't share a room as long as he could afford it. And he could.

And the voices and the noises muddled together and she was again locked in the hazed maze of her mind. The last thing she heard was spoken in a thick British accent.

Such a perfect guy at such a bad time. Such a bad luck. This world is much too dangerous for someone lacking luck like me. Lacking luck and saturated with stupidity, she modified the lyrics. But back to the luck, wasn't it unfortunate that they hadn't met before? Not before when they were both troubled kids, just before now. Because the chemistry… they would have been a new Big Bang. They would have collided and exploded and created a whole new world or life or, she didn't know, she wasn't a romantic, but they would have been energy let loose and focused at the same time. A few years back she would have been able to just crash into this guy full force because they clicked. They clicked. They…

Something rattled her, her eyes shot open and her head lashed up. Turbulence, she realized upon seen everyone trying to steady themselves and their mugs, some of which had spilled. Were they having breakfast? Or was it lunch? Or rather brunch? Or just a very large snack? What time was it?

She checked her watch. 10.30 AM West, which was 1.30 PM East. And since they were arriving at 3 PM this would constitute their meal, whatever the name. And she should have some. Or some coffee. Coffee to stay awake, because had she really snoozed for the past three and a half hours?

Ok, get up, get coffee, she told herself. But before she did, she took in the scene. Reid and JJ were talking at her left. Morgan was on the couch chatting with Gina and Prophet. Of course, she thought, they all shared that halo of aloofness. Whatever. That meant Cooper, Rossi, Hotch and Mick, yes, both of them together, were on the other set of seats. Oh, please! What was she, a twelve years old girl? Yes, both of them together… Did her thoughts have to sound as if she was writing in her childhood's diary? God! Pathetic.

She finally got up, pissed at herself and everyone else. If people wanted to talk, they were going to do it anyway. And she really wanted some coffee. As soon as she stood, eyes flew to her and she ignored them. She just walked straight to the kitchenette, grabbed a mug and poured some coffee. She looked for sugar but only found Splenda. Well, it was the magic ingredient; perhaps it worked and made her invisible.

She smiled at her own joke. That was more like it, she thought. And it was, indeed, more like her.

Almost as if each of her bones were being reassembled, she felt her spine straightening, her shoulders falling into place, her head lifting. Full grown, assertive Prentiss was back.

She tasted her drink. It was good, considering it was plane's coffee. Splenda was not quite like sugar, but she should know how to handle pretenses, right? She chuckled at her second Splenda-Emily combo joke and cursed a little because she had no audience.

When she walked back to her seat with a doughnut and a croissant –those rats hadn't left much-, she felt grounded again, secure. This time she didn't ignore the looks, she just didn't care. High school had ended a long time ago. If everyone else was going to act like kids, fine. She was above it. As far as they knew, she had slept with a guy. That's no reason to be ashamed, nor is it a reason to make fun of someone.

Then again, part of her confidence crumbled when she reached her seat. Comfortably stretched in the spot opposite to hers, with his headphones on, was Mick. She did that thing that was meant to be a smile but in which her lips actually curled a little bit downwards.

Mick, on his part, gave her a mischievous grin as he yanked the earpieces off. Between annoyed and amused, not to mention a tad grateful –no one else would come to talk while Mick was there-, she huffed before sitting down.

She took her time to place her food on a napkin over her lap for lack of a table. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to look back at him. But she should.

Mick, fingers interlocked over his stomach after turning his player off, called her attention, "So…" he began.

She lifted her eyes to him. His smirk drew a bashful smile to her face.

"I wore you out last night, apparently," he said loud enough for her to hear him, but quietly enough so no one else could.

She almost choked on the bit of croissant she was chewing. She blinked after her throat was clear, "Are you… having fun with this?" She asked in mild disbelieve. Mild because she was starting to think there wasn't much about this guy that was regular.

"Well, it is a little bit funny…" he said leaning towards her, laughter dancing in his eyes.

Out of reflex, she grunted a chuckle, "Like having my teeth pulled out," she said.

He smirked at her wittiness.

God, she should truly love this man, she thought as she stared at him through her lashes and a half smile lifted the left part of her lips. But her eyes became serious. He really didn't have any obligation or even reason to do this for her, to cover for her and her lack of spine. "Thank you," she uttered softly.

Mick, leaning in until he was barely three inches away from her, tilted his head, "I know I am a good shag, but this is the first time someone thanks me."

Before she could even chuckle, he braced himself on her armrests in a move that astonished everyone. Pushing up, he pivoted on his feet and landed on the seat at her right, not without making everyone believe, Prentiss included, that he was going to kiss her. He didn't.

When the shock wore off, even though her eyes were still rounded as plates, she let out a sound that resembled chortle. Staring at him and with a full beam on her face, although she was trying to go back to her unflappable expression, she muttered, "You have no shame."

"Which works for you, doesn't it?" he replied resting against his seat.

She scanned his words, his face, everything. She found no resentment. Was this guy for real? And she had to admit it, "Yeah, it does…"

He gave her another grin and she thought that he was indeed quite irresistible. Not just because of his looks, though they did gain him some points, but for that other thing that was behind his eyes, that didn't quite show upon meeting him but that became evident when he was staring right at her. God, she had no luck, no luck at all when it came to men. Or she did, but she sucked at timing.

She shook her head, amused by his gleaming gaze, intrigued by his attitude, "Why are you doing it?"

"Why am I doing what?" He replied lifting his eyebrows in the most charming way.

"Why are you helping me out?" She clarified.

He saw her look. It was that one that covered vulnerability with a mask of flirtatious coolness. He did it because he got it. He got all of it. He got things even she didn't get. But that was not a good answer, so he didn't use it. "You look like you could use a hand," he said, and, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, he added, "and it's best for my reputation if people think I actually wore you out rather than them knowing you left."

It wasn't the best phrasing ever and guilt fell on her like a bucket of bricks, "I am so sorry, Mick, so sorry. I really…"

Oh, bloody hell, he hadn't meant to, "It's ok, really, don't worry about it, I was just joking, no big deal," he hurried.

"I was going to my room, I…" She began again, sadness irradiating from her as every single bit of the night came back.

"No need to explain, I don't need any explanation," he cut her off.

They stared again. She saw it clearly. He understood. He really understood her. He understood the situation, he understood her past, he probably even understood how and why she had ended up where she was.

It's almost impossible to find people that understand you. They can try because they like you, or they love you, or they pity you. If they try hard enough, they might think they do. But most people just can't. Much less can they not judge you. At some point, because you are how you are, you're going to hurt them and they will be shocked and angry because they don't get it. They don't get you. But Mick did.

He was studying her as she thought. Such a good person under such a complicated circumstance. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, she looked so lonely. Strong, yes, but lonely and exhausted under her distant façade, to which she clung even now. But she was looking straight into his eyes. In fact, he was the only one that was allowed to look at her without receiving rays of fury in return. Which, he had to admit, made him a little proud.

She examined him as well. His smile, a winning grin, the kind that makes women sigh. His eyes, brown and sparkly, vibrant. His words, in which she still couldn't find a single thread of resentment. So good. This man was so good. For some reason, he wasn't telling her what a big tease she was, he wasn't blaming her for leading him on and then walking out on him. He wasn't even angry at her for using him to cover for her night with Hotch. As a matter of fact, he was giving her permission to do it. He was going over that and participating willingly into deceiving everyone just to keep her secret safe.

"Where the hell were you two years ago?" she whispered without meaning to speak out loud. She didn't mean to continue throwing mix signals at him. He was nice, he didn't really deserve it. She still had to live with the guilt of using him to elevate her self esteem, even if she didn't know at the time that that was what she was doing.

He was about to respond I'm not at liberty to say in a sultry, deep, I'm-so-important-I-can't-disclose-that-information voice when the number hit him, "Two years?" his eyes popped out. Only then he realized that the whatever deal he thought Emily had with her boss wasn't, as he had fist assumed, a thing that had been latent until last night. "You've been…" He muttered, but suddenly stopped because he didn't know how to finish the question. Ok, he knew. He just didn't want to say it.

"A year and a half would have worked too," she replied.

Her face, her expression of utter and absolute helplessness mixed with some kind of acceptance and the fact that she wasn't trying to cover her slip… it all gave her a certain power of seduction he could not resist. He shook his head and smiled.

She smirked back, and their sort of link, the connection they had forged last night, strengthened. Yeah. They liked each other, they agreed silently, squinting at one another.

"I would go back in time if I could," he joked knowing that he had the right, "like in that book, the one with the boy that…"

"Nah-ah. No, don't name the book," she said shaking her head, but keeping her eyes on him.

He stared at her and realized, "You know the book, with the…" he said jokingly.

"Don't say it, don't say the name because…" Because she would have to either kill herself or kiss him; and they both knew that kissing wasn't an option.

Mick found incredibly entertaining, and maybe a little heartbreaking, that she wanted to want him, but couldn't. As he found awfully endearing that she didn't even bother to hide it. Not from him, nor from herself.

It kinda looks as if I was schizophrenic, right? I do have a point and I'm starting to believe I can actually take this story in the direction I had first intended. Though it will take more chapters than I had in mind.
Let me know what you think, specially since the site's traffic thing isn't working.
See you soon, hopefully.
allthatisevil