Twenty-Three
Stalemate.
A situation in which further action by opposing parties seems impossible. The point in a game of chess at which neither player can win.
That was where they found themselves, at a stalemate, as they stood in Emily's hotel room, each of them as angry as the other.
Emily was all too aware of her vulnerability, standing there in her robe, still warm and damp from her shower. Still, she boldly folded her arms across her chest and stared him down, waiting for him to take her invitation and leave. Aaron just stared back at her.
She couldn't read him or predict his next move. It both thrilled and unsettled her that he was one of the only people she couldn't read like a book. What made it worse was the way he seemed to see through her.
The air between them crackled. Tension had been growing since the restaurant, since before then, really, but it was only then that Emily realised how they'd been kidding themselves, playing at being friends, when that had never been true. From the start, they'd never been friends. She could see it in the way his eyes bored into her; they never could be, not really.
His eyes moved in staccato, jumping from her face, to her exposed collar bones, to the soft belt of the robe fastened tightly around her narrow waist, to her bare legs, still glistening with the moisture from the tower. Emily's breath caught in her throat as Aaron's tongue snaked out across his lips, like a reflex. The hunger in his eyes started a fire in her belly.
All this because of a stupid, reckless one night stand, a year and a half ago.
Only now it was different, because where there had before been excitement and lust and affection, now Emily only felt anger, as she stared at him across the hotel room, an ocean of faded blue carpet the only thing separating them.
"You were talking to me." He said, and she frowned at him, confused. "When I walked in, you were talking to me. What did you say?" Her eyes narrowed, it took a beat before she remembered what he was talking about, and then they went wide, with shock and embarrassment.
"I'm sure you fucking did, Aaron." was what she had said, was what he had overheard and in her panic, she'd all but forgotten her jealousy, her bitterness, towards Kate. Somehow, it was as though whatever he and Kate shared was worse than seeing him with Haley. Emily shook her head.
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me, Emily."
"Oh, I'm Emily again, would you look at that?" Hotch ran a hand over his face with exasperation, as she snapped back at him, so obviously avoiding his question. "You know, I can't win with you, Aaron, I never know if I'm coming or going, if I'm Emily or Prentiss - you need to make up your fucking mind!"
"I made up my mind," Emily actually flinched, as he raised his voice, repeating his words, as though he had to convince himself all over again, and he took no pleasure from making her jump, "I made up my mind; I was done with you. Done with all of this, this huge fucking mess that we made-"
"That you made!" Emily cut across him, pointing an accusing finger at him, "You did that, Aaron-"
"Fine!" He conceded, throwing his hands out, a gesture of surrender, but the anger in his voice remained, and she knew he wasn't finished, "The mess that I made. Either way, I was done with it. And then you-you-" it was his turn to point at her, now, and he began to pace, back and forth across the carpet. As she watched, she saw the tension in his face, in the way he frowned at the floor, dropped his hands to his hips, locked his jaw.
"I what, Aaron?" She practically spat it at him, too angry with him to care anymore, "What the hell did I do to you?"
"You ran towards gunfire, today, Emily!"
"That's my job!" She yelled at him, pressing her palms to her chest in frustration,, "That is my fucking job!"
"No, it isn't-"
"Yes, it is! We run towards gunfire everyday! I have seen you walk, without your vest, into houses with serial killers waiting for you," she shook her head, completely unwilling to let him off the hook that easily, "That is not what you're fucking pissed about, Aaron, so why don't you be a fucking grown-up and admit it?"
He stopped walking, then, and just stared at her and, again, Emily felt as though he were taking her apart with his eyes; she felt as though she weren't wearing the robe, at all. She tried, but after a moment, she had to drop her gaze, afraid of the intensity she found there, afraid she would give away too much if she held his eyes for too long.
That intensity…
Her eyes went wide as she met his, again.
"You're jealous." She'd be lying to say she hadn't suspected it when he saw her speaking with Cooper, and then again, when Kate paired them together. In her shock and panic after Cooper's shooting, and her anger towards him, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind…until now. "Oh, my god, you're jealous, Aaron."
He didn't deny it, but he did fix her with a stare that would make someone less brave than she was tremble with fear. But Emily, being who she was, knowing what she knew about him, it had an entirely different effect on her.
"Admit it." And when she tilted her chin at him, when she challenged him, she knew she was pushing her luck. Only then did Aaron tear his eyes from her, heaving a great sigh of irritation and waving a dismissive hand in her direction, like she were a teenager throwing a tantrum. And that was when Emily knew she was getting to him.
"You're impossible," he said, and she said nothing, forcing him to go on, "It's no wonder you had your supervisory status revoked."
Oh.
Well, that wasn't what she'd expected, and he momentarily took the wind out of her sails.
"What?" She said, narrowing her eyes, her face screwed up with confusion and growing anger. He'd hit a nerve with that comment, and the worst part was that he knew it, and he kept going anyway
"You are. You're reckless, you're a rogue agent. Your file was full of compliments, but I knew your name, Emily. Everyone in the bureau knew it. Taking a chance on you was a mistake."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Every word bit into her, each more painful than the last, and if he believed even half of them she could have cried right then and there, "Did you come here just to insult me?"
"No, I came to check on you," he reiterated, snapping, and Emily rolled her eyes, frustrated and confused.
"Okay," she raised her voice at him, "So you checked on me. I'm fucking fine and if you're just going to keep insulting me, you can leave, Aaron. Now."
"Fine," Aaron held up his hands, finally heading for the door, and Emily saw the keycard on the dresser. JJ must have given it to him. He was almost at the door, Emily watching him go by glaring at his back, when he spun on his heels and headed back towards her. She took a stumbling step backwards, but he caught her arm, his grip bruising, and then his face was less than an inch from hers. For a second, Emily expected him to kiss her, but he didn't. His face was a picture of rage, as he hissed at her, "You're one to talk about being jealous, Emily, the way you've been eyeing Kate. If looks could kill-"
"You mean Haley's look-a-like?" The laugh that came from her throat was not a nice sound; no, it was nasty, scornful, meant for maximum pain infliction as she accused him, "That's what you heard me say when you broke into my hotel room, Aaron. I'm sure you did fucking laise with her, if the way you've been flirting with her, in front of the whole team, is anything to go by."
"I've been flirting?" It wasn't lost on Emily, the way he avoided her accusation, but indignation flared, as he laid similar charges against her, as though that absolved him of his own sins, "The way you've been throwing yourself at Cooper, it's embarrassing, Emily," Hotch dropped his voice, low, "Is that why he took a bullet for you?"
That did it. Emily turned, picked up the first thing she could find, which happened to be her badge, and threw it at him. If Hotch hadn't had the good sense to stumble back a few steps, ducking out of the way, just in time, it would have done some damage. Instead, it smacked off of the doorframe behind him, fell to the floor and rolled a little before settling at the foot of the bed.
"Just leave, Aaron," she wasn't sure why he was still here, other than to keep aggravating her, "I'm sure your girlfriend is missing you." She sneered at him, then, "Once a cheater, always a cheater, right."
She didn't imagine the way his face blanched, at that. His anger seemed to evaporate, and it chilled her the way all of the emotion drained from his face.
"I can see that you're fine," he wasn't shouting anymore, instead his voice was level, aggravatingly so, after he'd come here and enraged her all over again, and back in place was Hotch, not 'Aaron', but Hotch; her stoic boss. Emily glared at him through thick lashes.
"Yeah," she said, unfolding her arms and settling one hand on her hip. Emily ran a hand through her hair, tugging it out of the tie she had fastened it up in to keep it dry in the shower. Tendrils had escaped and had already begun to twist back into her natural curls, framing her face, "physically. Apart from the bruises you just left on my arm."
She was using hyperbole, but still his eyes widened a little at the comment, flitting from the curls he had been watching settle around her face to her arm, as though he could see through the soft, thick towelling fabric to the pale skin underneath. "You're exaggerating," he told her, dismissively, and Emily felt anger flare in her chest, and couldn't hold her tongue.
"And just how would you fucking know that? You just threw me against a wall, Hotch-"
He changed again so quickly she didn't see it coming, crossing the room in two wide strides so fast and so unexpected that Emily's breath caught in her chest. This time he wrapped two large hands around her arms, his grip tight and possessive, and he whirled her around so that this time her back did crash against the wall, "No, Emily," he growled into her ear, "That's throwing you against a wall."
It was embarrassing, the effect he had on her. Just his proximity was enough to drive her to distraction. But anger was still her primary emotion.
"Get off of me, Aaron," she spat at him, chest heaving against his as she breathed heavily, and beat her palm against his chest.
She wasn't afraid of him, never had been. But today was different; there was an intensity in him that she'd never really seen before. His eyes flit, from hers, to her lips, and back again, and something jolted in Emily's belly. Again, she watched as his tongue shot out, wetting his bottom lip.
Aaron was close enough to catch the vanilla scent coming off of her skin, fresh from her shower, to see the way her mascara had bled just a little beneath her lashes. He saw the flush of her chest above the fold where her robe crossed, and felt the way her breathing grew more rapid.
Stalemate, indeed.
Emily's voice dropped to a low whisper, "Well, what are you waiting for?"
She didn't know if she was asking him to stay or go and neither, it seemed, did Aaron. Still, she was giving him the choice; go, forget this ever happened, or stay and fall right back into this with her.
Aaron chose the latter.
He was not gentle when his teeth clashed against hers, his tongue in her mouth, almost blocking her airway, his lips burning a bruising kiss against hers. The hands around her arms only tightened, vices locking her in place. Emily felt the buttons of his blazer brush her skin as her robe slipped, exposing pale, clean skin. This ferocity frightened her as much as it excited her, and Emily whimpered against his lips, but she didn't push him away, quite the opposite; she grabbed for the lapel of his blazer, holding him closer, still.
God, it had been too long since he'd kissed her - it set her body on fire, the heat concentrating between her legs, and when Aaron pushed his knee between them, going immediately for gold, she mewled into his mouth.
The sound only spurred Aaron on and he pushed harder, giving her more to leverage herself against as her bare center slipped against his expensive suit trousers.
"I told you-" she breathed, her words disjointed and broken by gasps as Aaron moved his lips from hers, to her throat, attacking her there like a starved man, and she wound her fingers into the dark hair at the base of his neck, "-you were jealous."
Her skin tingled as Aaron growled against her throat, and she gasped, flinching, as he actually nipped her, teeth grazing over pale skin. His tongue immediately shot out, soothing her skin which bloomed red, a mark she wouldn't be able to cover easily.
"You're one to talk, Emily," this was a side of him she'd never seen before; a possessive, aggressive side and Emily knew she would never admit to him how it thrilled her. "You think I didn't notice? You were jealous of Kate before you even met her. You know her?" He mimicked her, his fingers deftly moving to the opening of her robe, slipping inside. He wasted no time, didn't linger as she had known him to in the past, but instead went straight for her core, and Emily was embarassed by the chuckle in her ear, "Dirty girl," she whimpered, dangerously on the edge of losing her cool, as his index finger swiped through her slit, finding her wet and wanting, "So wet already. Did you touch yourself in the shower?"
"Fuck," the dirty talk was something she'd never heard from him before, and it made her knees weak. She wasn't about to give into him too easily, though. No, she could still have her fun, too.
"Yes," She breathed, and grinned against his lips, "But not about you."
Hotch gave an almost animalistic growl of rage and Emily felt herself lifted from the floor. With a gasp, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
"Say it again," He warned her, grabbing her hands and lifting them above her head. He held them in place against the wall with one hand as the other reached between them, tugging apart the robe as he kept her supported by pressing his body into hers, leaving no room for air between them. He stared into her eyes, and Emily tightened around nothing at the look she found there, a look of pure desire. He pulled the robe apart, exposing her breasts to him, and his fingers immediately found a peaked nipple, thumb brushing over it gently. Emily hissed through her teeth at the contact, but fastened her lips together, and shook her head, definitely.
"Say it again," emphasising his words, Aaron pinched, hard, and, as an involuntary response, Emily's hips pushed against him as her back arched away from the wall, legs tightening around him, the leather edge of his belt biting against the bare skin of her thighs. Aaron was solid and strong between her legs, and, more than that, he was aroused and even through his suit trousers she could feel him, long and thick against her core.
Still, Emily shook her head, eyes glinting, enjoying this a little too much, and Aaron couldn't help but kiss her, a rough, bruising kiss. As he pulled away she chased him and Emily caught his lower lip between her teeth, eyes on his, her mouth full of the taste of him. She tugged on his lip and pushed her chest forward, his hand flattening against her breast. Surging back forwards, he reclaimed her mouth, his tongue sliding wetly against her own as his fingers curled, until he held her in his hand, her peaked nipple hard against his palm, and the hand that held her wrists loosened, giving her permission to bring her arms down. Emily wound them back around his neck, supporting herself.
Aaron didn't break their kiss as he wrapped the strong arm that had been holding her hands up around her waist and lifted Emily away from the wall. She always knew he was strong, but displays like this drove her wild and Emily knew when he touched her again she would be soaked.
The bed sank beneath her as he laid her down, and Emily pulled him on top of, winding her legs around his still-clothed waist
They kissed long and deep, Emily's robe fully open now and splayed across the bed. She lay bare beneath him, the scratch of his clothes against her an extra thrill, leaving her feeling vulnerable and completely at his mercy, something Emily had never enjoyed before him.
Neither of them were thinking of Cooper or Kate as he kissed her, as Emily frantically, with practised fingers, undid the belt around his waist. Neither were thinking about the significant others they'd left alone in D.C when Hotch moved from kissing her down to her breast, fastening his mouth around her and making Emily gasp as his tongue flicked, fast and expertly, over her sensitive nipple. Neither remembered the decision they'd made to end this when she freed him from his trousers and the dripping head of his cock slid against her, warm and slick but not inside, not yet.
No, neither of them spared a thought for anything but each other…
Until the phone rang.
Like a tree split in two by a bolt of lightning, they sprang apart.
The world came back into focus, the hotel room suddenly dark and dingy and small, and smelling like mildew. Emily could feel every lump in the mattress beneath her, and her exposed skin was no longer hot with need for him, but ice cold with embarrassment, and damp, her shower still drying on her skin. The vanilla hotel soap that had seemed to heady a moment ago was now cheap, and her skin itched with it. Suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness, she grabbed for the robe, dragging it back up her shoulders and holding it across herself. Before, she was burning with desire, now she burned with shame, her skin flushing, as she clutched the robe to her chest.
She couldn't meet Aaron's eyes as he pushed himself up on his elbows, tried to ignore the way he slid unavoidably against her, and shoved himself up from the bed, and he didn't meet hers, either. He turned away from her, awkwardly shoving himself back into his trousers with one hand. With the other, he pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his blazer.
"Yes?" His voice was perhaps a little breathy, but other than that, there was nothing out of place, no indication of what they had just been doing, even as his heart kept pounding in his chest. He had to close his eyes, and take a few deep breaths, willing away the evidence of his arousal.
On the bed, Emily was doing the same, her eyes downcast, her feet drawn together. She chanced looking at him, and found his back to her, as he spoke. Watching him, Emily pushed herself up onto her knees as she fastened her belt around her waist, adjusting the robe so that it covered her again.
His phone was loud enough that she could hear Rossi on the other end.
"Hotch? Where are you? Cooper's shooting brought everything into focus; why target so close to where they had to know we're scouting out? It's not a coincidence that Prentiss and Cooper were right there, Hotch. Emily told JJ it felt like suicide by cop, that he could have gotten away, so why didn't he? They're making mistakes on purpose, why might they do that?"
Hotch spoke Emily's thoughts aloud, thoughts she'd had when talking it through with JJ, thoughts she hadn't quite been able to put together herself. She hadn't mentioned them yet because she'd been, well, distracted.
"To throw us off. Make us think it was done." Aaron's voice was back to normal now, even while Emily's heart continued to beat rapidly in her chest. She pushed herself up off of the bed, grabbing up her clothes, and made to walk past him to the bathroom.
As she passed him, she caught his eye, and he just gave a quick shake of his head. She wasn't entirely sure what that little shake meant, but she thought it was probably something along the lines of, this can't happen again, and she had to agree.
In the bathroom, Emily pressed her back against the door, taking a few, deep breaths. Her skin burned where he'd touched her, and her thighs slid against each other, physical evidence of what they'd just done, damning and persistent.
She cleaned herself up and dragged on her clothes, hissing as fabric slid over her sensitive nipples, still tingling from his torment. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Aaron was still on the phone.
"We have multiple unsubs. They're disciplined. They're using Counter-surveillance. They know the fbi Movements. There's a hierarchy. What does that usually equal?" She heard Rossi saying on the other end.
"They've figured it out. It's terrorism," He said to her, not Rossi, and Emily's eyes went wide, as did his as he realised his mistake, and she heard Rossi ask,
"Who are you talking to?" There was no suspicion in his tone; there needn't be. Rossi didn't know they were in her hotel room, didn't know what they'd just done. But Emily felt her cheeks burn scarlet, anyway, and Hotch closed his eyes, briefly.
"It's just Prentiss," he covered, quickly, and the use of her surname didn't go unnoticed, "We were checking in after the shooting."
And that wasn't strange at all because why wouldn't he check on her, after something like that? Rossi hadn't seen the way he threw her against the wall at the crime scene, hadn't seen the way she stalked away from him, fighting back angry tears. Rossi didn't know their history. It was Hotch's job, as team leader, to look after the welfare of his agents. As far as Rossi was concerned, that was exactly what he was doing. Lucky JJ hadn't called. But, then, Emily remembered, JJ had given him her key.
"There's something else," Rossi was saying, "Garcia checked the cameras, the whole system."
There was a shuffling, and Emily heard Penelope's voice, as Dave had clearly put his phone on loudspeaker. With a glance in her direction, Hotch did the same,
"I went through," Penelope was saying, "And I checked all 4,468 cameras. They saw everything; the unsubs, they hacked into one camera at each crime scene."
"They've been watching from the beginning," Emily said, with mounting terror. And, then, more quietly, "They knew Cooper and I were there."
And they shot to kill. Well, that was no surprise; they'd been doing that this whole time.
"How did we miss that, Garcia?" Hotch was asking.
"It wasn't system wide; you had to check every camera one-by-one. They were sneaky, sir. Sneaky and clever"
The mounting dread, Emily knew, was not hers alone. Even through the phone, she could feel it from the others, and she could see it in Hotch's face. This was big, and would only get bigger.
"We have to hit the ground running." Morgan's voice came over the phone. Emily was already pulling on her jacket. She retrieved Hotch's blazer from the floor, where he'd thrown it off, and handed it to him. It was embarrassing, now, to remember what they'd been doing only a few moments ago, when she compared it to what the others had been doing and the progress they had made. Priorities.
"Dave, will you go and talk to the Comissioner? Tell her what's going on, and have her deploy her officers accordingly. Morgan, I need you to brief Homeland security."
Derek answered in the affirmative and they immediately heard his retreating footsteps as he jumped into action; Dave, too, would be on his way if they weren't all using his phone. Hotch was speaking quickly as time was of the essence.
"I'm going to go and check on Cooper and brief detective Brustin," Emily said, and when she met Hotch's eyes, she didn't know if she was telling him or asking him, but he nodded, all the same.
"JJ and I will talk to the port authority police." Spencer offered up, helpfully.
"Aaron and I can go and talk to the mayor,"
Their eyes met as Kate's voice came through the phone, and Emily managed to hold back the way her jaw wanted to tense, her eyes glazing over. She kept her face impassive, although the moment for that had passed. And Hotch was still looking at her when he said,
"Of course. Emily, can you drop me on your way?" And what choice did that leave her, but to say yes?
They were silent in the lift, although that silence said plenty. If they had been tense before, it was nothing compared to now, when they knew they were racing against time.
Hotch kept flashing back in his head, to what they had been doing not half an hour ago. He could still feel her skin, soft, beneath his hands; the weight of his arousal between his legs; the heat of her breath on his lips. Each flash had him closing his eyes in frustration, for more reasons than one.
It wasn't until they made it back to the car that either of them spoke.
"Emily, about what just happened-" he felt the need to break the ice, because he knew she was thinking about it, too.
In the driver's seat, though, Emily shook her head.
"Please, don't, Aaron," and he could hear the embarrassment in her voice. He wanted to tell her not to be embarrassed, but how could he, when he felt the weight of shame, too? "We had a lapse," she was saying, "It won't happen again."
He nodded in the seat beside her as he belted himself in and she pulled out of the hotel's parking structure. He nodded because he had to agree, but he'd seen the angry flash of her eyes when Kate's voice came through that phone, and he knew they weren't done with this, no matter how they tried to kid themselves.
"I never slept with her," he felt the need to clarify, and she shot him a glance before returning her eyes to the road ahead, "Kate. We never…that's never been a thing."
Emily didn't respond for a long moment.
She was thinking about the best course of action here. She didn't want to sound too relieved, because she had no right to that, but at the same time, she felt like he needed acknowledgement of the fact. Eventually, she settled on a simple, short, "Okay."
But when they pulled up outside of City Hall, the heaviness between them had not subsided, and Hotch sat a moment before leaving.
"I feel like I should explain myself," he said, and Emily heaved a sigh, about to dismiss him, but he spoke over her, "No, let me, please." And so she ran her tongue over her lip, not in the way she had earlier, to arouse him, but as one of her nervous tick's that he had noticed, then closed her mouth and looked at him. What she found in his eyes was an open and frank honesty as he said, "I never cheated on Haley. Not before you. I was never that guy."
"You're blaming me?" Emily frowned at him, and Hotch frowned back as he shook his head.
"No, no, don't misunderstand me," he tried to reassure her, "I take full responsibility-"
"Oh, that's big of you-"
"Will you just shut up, for once?" His tone was effective in making her do just that and with a hard sigh, Emily sat back against her seat and clamped her mouth shut, "Thank you. I know that I made this mess, but it was an anomaly. I've never cheated on Haley before that, and I never would again. What we had…I've never felt attraction like that. Not with anybody, not Kate, not-" here, he paused, and Emily watched him, knowing what was going to come out of his mouth but not really ready to believe it even as he spoke, "not Haley."
The words he spoke should have been a comfort, a confidence boost, should have made her feel some kind of way but as Emily sat and listened to them, all she felt was a deep, profound sadness and a yearning she knew would take a long time to dissipate.
"It was something unique, what we had, Emily," and they'd had a glimpse of it, again, today, "It was wrong, but it was special, at the same time."
Emily leaned in then, she coukdn't help it. It didn't matter that they were sitting outside of a government building, nor that they were on the clock. Somehow, she knew this was an ending, and she couldn't let the way she'd kissed him in her hotel room be the last time. It was soft and chaste, and Aaron chased her lips as she pulled, quickly, away from him.
"She's waiting for you," she said, gently, dropping her eyes from his, afraid of what he might find there.
Emily didn't watch him get out of the car, and she drove away without watching him ascend the steps to the doors. Maybe, if she had known what was coming, she would have looked longer.