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Lake Erie Part III

Winter

"For there is one thing I can safely say: that those bound by love must obey each other if they are to keep company long. Love will not be constrained by mastery; when mastery comes, the God of love at once beats his wings, and farewell -- he is gone. Love is a thing as free as any spirit; women naturally desire liberty, and not to be constrained like slaves; and so do men, if I shall tell the truth."

- Chaucer

The seat next to her was empty, the flight relatively unfilled with people and she was glad of the fact. The usual melee of a journey was not something she wanted right now, her mother's words still reverberating through her mind. They'd gone on to speak about Russia, and Elizabeth's six month's sojourn over there, and then briefly about people they knew; an upcoming divorce, a recent marriage, and a business that was teetering on the edge of collapse.

But her mother had left the subject of Hotch well alone after her initial enquiry. Enough on the matter had been said; enough to make Emily think, and that, Emily knew, had been her mother's intention. She hadn't stopped thinking since, and even her dreams had been filled with unsettling thoughts.

There had been the reoccurring nightmare, where she had been taken captive after trying to save a young girl by herself. Just at the point of death she'd heard Hotch's voice outside the door, and her heart had soared; he'd come to save her. Then his voice had disappeared, and she'd woken up, unharmed, but her mind reeling with questions. Why had he left?

She'd never shared the dream with him, preferring to deal with it on her own, as she did a lot of things. And maybe that was the point of the dream, the message being sent from her subconscious.

It was one of the things that scared her; losing that autonomy, her self-reliance.

"Miss Prentiss," the flight attendant approached her. "Can I get you a coffee?"

Emily smiled and nodded. The girl looked barely old enough to be out of school, the red lipstick appearing misplaced and the hair too tightly pulled back for such a young face, giving it look of severity that spoiled what would have been a natural prettiness. "Thank you." The hostess nodded and returned to her cart, Emily gazing back out of the window at the clouds beneath them.

Her mother's words had created anticipation within the pit of her stomach that wouldn't otherwise have been there. It had been four days since they had seen each other last, the morning that she'd packed to go spend time with Elizabeth. They were on stand down for two weeks, depending on any major cases being called in, and she'd felt loathe to leave him, as much as she wanted to see her mother. If it hadn't have been for the last night's conversation, she'd have been simply looking forward to seeing him, and Jack, again, but there was now the added ingredient of something that needed saying.

"Your coffee," her thoughts were interrupted by the girl with the red lips. "Can I get you anything else?"

Emily shook her head. "No thanks," she said, giving her a smile. "That's everything."

Then she was left to her own devices, her own thoughts. Visions of the lake house filled her mind; the waters of Lake Erie lapping over the smooth pebbles, soothing her too-fast heart beat.

The low mist clung to the surface of the lake, almost concealing the place where the water ended and the sky began. The ends of the tree's branches were blurred by the low cloud, its naked fingers dipping into the swirling grey.

Jack was fascinated by the weather, which had taken Hotch by surprise. There was almost a complete lack of colour; a blur of whites and greys and taupes, and everything was unmoving. There was nothing there that could captivate a child, or so Hotch had thought, but instead Jack had seen a world of fairies and magic, wanting to hear stories of mystical beings and enchantresses that Hotch had to make up as best he could. Fortunately, Jack was easily satisfied.

Mid-morning brought no shift in the mist, and Jack was now happily inside, clearly in view through the large glass window which looked out over the lake, playing with a wooden train set which Hotch had found when he and Emily had been here a couple of months ago. He was finishing his renovation of the steps and porch, pleased to find that all they needed was retreating, and he'd brought some quick drying varnish with him.

A duck quacked, the only noise around, and he looked up to see if he could spot it. It was there, a few feet out into the lake, a dark silhouette bobbing on the water. Hotch wondered whether it had become separated from the rest of its flock; duck were not solitary birds, and soon enough, another came along, diving alongside the first, looking for a late breakfast. He paused to watch, placing the brush down and resting against the now dry railing.

A pallid sun was visible overhead, but lacked the strength to break through the thick cloud. It seemed that the mist was there for the duration of the day, and although Hotch would have liked a clearer day so that Jack could look around, it wouldn't be too much of a hindrance, as once Emily arrived he intended on them eating, then going to look for furniture.

At the moment, there were just two beds and a rocking chair; the latter having been left by the previous owner, the former having been delivered in the past week, the helpful realtor having accepted delivery of them. He hadn't had time to purchase new bedding, so that was another thing on the list to get that day. The sleeping bags they had used last night were okay for a day or so, but he wanted it t feel more like home.

A tapping on the window made him turn round, and he saw Jack pointing toward the train track he'd set up by himself. Hotch grinned and gave him a thumbs up, with which Jack was satisfied, returning to his game. At first, after Haley's death, Hotch would have felt guilty for leaving Jack to play by himself, but as Jessie had told him, it was impossible for him to spend every second of his free time amusing him – he had other things to do, and carrying on a sense of guilt was not one of them. And it was good for Jack's imagination and creativity to play alone sometimes.

He picked up the brush once again and began the last of the treatment. It had dried quickly, and was already looking much better than at the start of the morning. It would need a second coat, but that could be done tomorrow. After Emily had arrived.

Craning his neck, he looked towards the gravel driveway that led from the main road, hearing an engine in the distance. Emily had taken a flight from Washington at nine, and should have landed by now. A taxi from the airport would take around forty minutes, so her arrival was imminent. There was a stirring in his chest at the thought of her, one that was more noticeable given the stillness of his surroundings. He knew he'd missed her, however distracted he'd tried to be.

The car drove past, the silence resuming, and he continued with his work, trying to focus on deft even strokes with the brush. But it didn't work; his mind wandered again to her. She'd met Jack before Haley's death; all the team had. Jack hadn't even mentioned it when Emily was around a little more than the others, until one day he'd asked if Emily was his girlfriend.

It was a question Hotch had been dreading; not because of the ramifications of the answer. Haley's funeral had been three or so months previously, and although he had in the first few weeks put his relationship with Emily on hold to a certain extent, she'd gradually been around even more than before, and that meant she'd been around Jack more too.

They hadn't discussed it. Maybe he was afraid of what her thoughts were. He was a single parent, he didn't just see his son for one night during the week or every other weekend, he was a permanent fixture. Continuing a relationship with him meant forming a different one with Jack than she'd had before.

It had just happened. When she'd stayed over, she'd made breakfast for the three of them; she'd suggested places to go on their days off that Jack would enjoy too, but at no point had she ever brought up her relationship with him.

Maybe there was nothing to be said; maybe if those words were uttered they would form a contract that would cause pain if broken, and neither wanted to make that vow. He understood it; he understood the commitment, the ties that bound were not easy ones to live with.

So when Jack had asked if Emily was his girlfriend, he'd replied in the affirmative. Jack had grinned and then looked sheepish. "I have a girlfriend too, Daddy," he'd said. "She's called Abby and she let me kiss her under the table at school."

Hotch had replied with a simple exclamation, not quite sure with how to deal with this latest revelation. He'd asked Jessie about it when she'd come to look after Jack for a few days while the team were on a case and she'd laughed. "He's going to have plenty of girlfriends," she'd said. "Get used to it."

Emily coming here was another step for them. Sometimes he wished he could be oblivious to such things, and not analyse them; but he analysed his own behaviour as his job demanded he know himself inside and out in order to know others. She would have thought about the vacation just as much as he had, and the implications it had. This was part of his life, this house by Lake Erie, which could have been just for him and his son. He and Emily could have stayed at arm's length, and their relationship could have continued like that for years to come.

He was lost in thought, only briefly becoming aware of the sound of the idling engine. As he looked up almost unconsciously, he saw Emily, pulling along her large suitcase and carrying an oversized bag.

Hotch put down the brush and made his way down the steps to meet her. "Hey," he said quietly, feeling a little warmer than he had done before.

"Hey," she said, echoing him. "It's good to see you."

He nodded, taking her suitcase. "It's good to see you too." And it was. It really was.

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Sarah x