A/N: This chapter takes place during 5x05, detailing the process of Morgan becoming Unit Chief.

P.S. Thank-you all for the support :) I know I'm not the best with uploading regularly, but I appreciate that most of you are still invested.


Mid-October 2010

Friday night had blurred into Sunday with hardly any response from Aaron. In some ways, Emily had enjoyed the lack of contact. She didn't like to admit it, but inevitably, they got in each other's hair being together practically 24/7. Having a little peace to herself had been therapeutic, although she couldn't escape the guilt nagging at her to do something.

That's what she was supposed to do. He was in pain. He needed comfort.

But he'd specifically told her he needed space. And above anything else in their somewhat complicated personal/professional relationship, they respected their needs. So, she'd kept to herself. That's not to say her hand wasn't hovering over her cell for the whole weekend, flinching every time a notification buzzed. She had concern given everything that happened on Friday that he'd do something to harm himself, but the more she reflected, the more at ease she felt.

The week had been stressful, and it didn't take a profiler to know Hotch looked exhausted. Probably burnt out from constant stimulation if she'd had to take a punt. Friday night, everything came boiling to the surface, and he'd snapped. Hell, Emily would too simply imagining it.

He'd be okay when Monday morning rolled around… Well, that was what she kept telling herself.

Arriving at the bullpen at 7:30am, the first thing Prentiss noticed was his golden nightlight radiating through the blind. It was still dark out, with winter fast approaching and the sun not properly risen for at least another half hour. She liked the moody vibe the season brought in the mornings; warm coffee mugs, the crisp condensation on her breath as she made her way into the building, the darkness of snowstorms and thunder. The only thing she wished the season would bring was late starts to work, but as expected, nothing ever slowed down in the BAU.

Quickly shrugging off her coat and bags at her station, Emily made her way up the catwalk, knocking lightly on the door slightly ajar. He glanced up midway through writing with a short smile and she noted the dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey… How was your weekend?" He asked quietly, shoving whatever file he was working on to the side as the door shut and she sat opposite.

"Not long enough. I missed you," she responded, a little despondently.

Silence passed as Aaron swallowed. "I'm sorry for not reaching out. I... I don't know what came over me."

The brunette shrugged. "I figured you'd need some time. Nobody's judging you for needing a couple days peace… I might have enjoyed it a little bit."

It was ever so subtle, but the comment evoked a tiny smirk from the unit chief before he quickly swallowed it away. "How are your parents?"

"They're fine. It was good to see dad… I didn't mention anything about us. I didn't want to bring anything up without you there." Emily was thankful the lunch on Saturday had been rather civil. Half the time it felt like her father was the mediator between herself and the ambassador, helping to resolve their arguments. But genuinely, she'd enjoyed simply catching up with her father whom she hadn't seen in many months with his mission overseas.

Hotch nodded. "I appreciate that."

"Please tell me you actually rested over the weekend."

"I started the new season of Breaking Bad, does that count?"

"You started it without me?" Emily pouted. A few weeks back, the couple had selected a handful of movies and series from the video store, and it had become tradition most Saturday nights (when they had the time of course) to lie on the couch and have movie marathons. Breaking Bad happened to be their latest fad and she'd really been looking forward to binging the next season with her beau. Little did she think he'd loyally watch the next season without her. Pure betrayal.

"What can I say? I was enjoying the peace."

The brunette bit a smirk down before standing up. He hadn't lost his sense of humour. "Well, I'm glad you didn't spend your whole Saturday staring down mugshots of you know who, but I can't say I'm terribly happy you started the new season without me. You probably watched the whole season, didn't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say the WHOLE season…"

Emily scowled. He was a damned liar.

"Come on, Prentiss, I know you would do the same thing if the DVD was right in front of you. Don't deny it."

"I really wanted to watch it together…" She whispered with the saddest expression she could muster. Hopefully he could see the grief he'd caused in her expression. Not that she was necessarily upset about the matter, the woman did like to toy with him every now and then. And it seemed to be working as his expression softened like butter.

"What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well…" She began, resting her elbows on the spine of the chair. "We will be binging the series again this weekend, and as punishment, you have to sit next to me the whole time without spoiling it."

He nodded curtly. "I can do that."

"And I want chocolate ice-cream, wine, 3 1donuts and multiple foot massages."

Hotch gave her an odd look, "Is that an order, Prentiss?"

The brunette glared him down.

"Okay, okay… We'll see about the donuts."

"There better be at least one or else."


As quickly as the laughable threat of violence over a donut loomed, it was quickly diminished by the threat of something much more serious. It involved all the things he'd tried his hardest to not jeopardize… His career, his position, the team, to some extent even his and Emily's relationship.

Aaron was so sure when he found Strauss staring out the window in his office that she was about to bust his nuts for adultery between co-workers. He'd been waiting for it. That sentence… Telling him that it was all over with his lover. To his surprise though, Strauss didn't mention any evidence of inappropriate relations between himself and Prentiss. If she did, he was certain she would have brought it up the minute he walked into the room.

Instead, he'd thankfully been sentenced in another way. Although he'd consider it almost just as bad as his first fear. Another indirect sentence at the hands of Foyet; being asked to step down from his role as unit chief.

He should have seen it coming from miles away. Authorities had been watching him like a hawk ever since returning; psych evaluations every two weeks, not to mention constant check in from Strauss making sure no pencil was out of line. He'd fucked up somewhere, whether somebody had complained, or if he genuinely wasn't doing his job probably, Aaron could only speculate what had gone wrong.

He'd spent half the night in bed deliberating what the best course of action should be. The thought of resigning entirely from the FBI crossed his mind more than once, but it wouldn't solve anyone's problems. Someone new would come in and reassign the team, bring in new members, change their well-oiled dynamic. Then there was also Jack… Aaron wasn't for one second about to give up on his boy.

Quitting wasn't an option.

The only viable pathway that didn't break apart the team was to promote internally. Hotch could live with that. Rossi, he knew had potential to be a great leader, but the Italian made it very clear every day how much the paperwork hated him. Spencer would be way too analytic about every detail needed for the reports. Heck, the poor guy would get PTSD every time Strauss simply walked into the building. JJ was needed as liaison; nobody could do her job as well as she could as proven by Jordan months back.

As for Prentiss, in all honesty, if there wasn't the relationship to worry about, Aaron wouldn't have hesitated in picking her as the woman for the job. She had all the attributes he did, could handle Strauss diplomatically (a trait she definitely learnt from her mother) and the woman hardly ever complained. But Hotch knew the strain it would put on her to suddenly go from field agent to unit chief, especially within a week. Not to mention the strain it would put on their relationship.

Maybe in another universe, he thought.

That left Morgan as the only suitable candidate for the role. And Hotch knew he'd excel. After all, the NYC field office had offered the man head chief, to which Morgan had blatantly rejected. He'd inevitably do the same when Aaron gave him the news. But it was the only way to keep everything within the team relatively stable.

As expected, Morgan's aggression concerning the idea very quickly became evident. But as they sat down Wednesday night, Hotch explained the reasoning and motivation behind the decision, and Derek's loyalty to the team shone through. Although, it's not like the man would have happily taken up the position even if he did disagree with some of the decisions Hotch had made.

"Man…" Derek shook his head. "So, this is it… This is why you're always so tied up."

Aaron swallowed. "It's time-consuming, but it's the most efficient way to get it done. The DOJ would have a fit if it wasn't all consistent. Trust me. We've learnt from experience."

Morgan quirked an eyebrow as he shuttled a warrant write up to the side. "How do you keep on top of it all?"

"It's… Just something you get used to," the unit chief replied coldly. He glanced up, noting the slight fear in his co-worker's eye. "You'll do a fine job, Morgan."

"I'm really sorry about everything with your family, Hotch… Honestly, I have more respect for you now realising how much you juggle."

Taking a seat, Hotch nodded with a heavy swallow.

"Any updates on Jack?"

The mention of the little boy brought a sad smile to the chief's face. "Sam sends through pictures every week. Despite the circumstances, he looks like's he's been spoilt which I'm glad about. Not being able to talk to him though is… It's tough."

Morgan, pursing his lips together in a despondent smile, shook his head. "I wanna get them back just as much as you do, Hotch. Can't be much longer til Foyet slips up. He's bound to."

The unit chief acknowledged Morgan's pain with a simple nod. "One mistake… I know everything I need to know about him. He just needs to make one mistake and that will be his gateway to hell." Hotch continued, "you still good to keep going?"

"I'm gonna rain check, man. Gotta get home to the dog."

"Of course. We'll continue tomorrow night," Aaron replied, repacking the odd files and instruction manuals back into the box.

Derek stood, helping the unit chief. "So, what's Prentiss cooking for you tonight?"

He wanted to laugh. "If Prentiss cooks for me, the most likely thing I'll taste is burnt fry pan." Morgan snickered.

"That bad huh?"

"She's good when she wants to be… During the week we usually go our separate ways. It suits us better if we're not constantly conversing about work." The statement wasn't entirely true. While they hated bringing the job inside the door, sometimes after a long day at work, the only thing that helped them unwind was spending time together. Not that Morgan needed to know all the finicky details.

"Strauss still doesn't suspect anything?"

Hotch shook his head. "As far as I'm concerned, our personal relationship isn't affecting our professional one. She need only worry if the two interfere."

"Are they?"

"Do you think they are?

Derek immediately dismissed the idea. As the couple had promised when they first told the team altogether, they didn't allow the personal to contaminate the professional. Morgan had watched them closely ever since that night. Apart from going out for lunch together every so often and a few looks shared between them, nobody outside their tight knit group would suspect how deep their connection had blossomed.

"I don't know how you guys do it. If I didn't already know, I don't think I would have questioned anything. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, nothing's really changed with the team dynamic. We're a machine… I really thought that would break down when I first found out about you guys."

"We hope it never does," Aaron replied honestly, shutting the two boxes and placing them down next to the desk. "Go home, get some rest."

"What about you?" Morgan asked in the process of walking through the doorway.

"I won't be too much longer."

"Okay, g'night, Hotch."

"Night, Morgan."


"How long have you known about this?" Emily had asked him as they drove to his apartment at the end of the week.

The team had been called into an afternoon meeting in the conference room along with Strauss and one of her superiors. With no forewarning from Aaron, hearing that he'd sent through his resignation as unit chief had made the brunette's stomach drop. Although she couldn't have been happier that he was still on the team, it was a timely reminder of how the bureau had the power to simply pluck them out of a job like a feather from a chicken.

"Since Monday," Aaron replied, one hand fixed on the wheel, the other resting on his lovers left thigh. "This was the only option that didn't break apart the team."

Emily shook her head as she intertwined her fingers with his. "I hate that… That they can just muck us around like cattle. Like our work doesn't mean anything to them, it's all bureaucratic bullshit."

"It's just the nature of the trade, Em. As much as it's not an ideal situation, there's not much we can do about it. Everything will be fine," he reassured. "I trust Morgan, he'll do well."

"Yeah. It's gonna be weird… Oh wait."

"What?"

"I just realised you're technically not my superior anymore."

Aaron smirked. "I was waiting for you to bring that up."

The woman chuckled. "Feels like I've got a jail break."

"I'm still working with you, dork."

"Well yeah, but I don't have to follow your ten thousand commandments."

Hotch couldn't really argue with that one as he rolled his eyes. "This is only temporary, remember?"

"We'll see about that," she joked.

"Can I ask you something? And can you be honest?"

Emily glanced over, her smirk disappearing. "Anything."

"Have you ever doubted my abilities? My leadership? My decisions?"

The question stumped her for a few moments. "You're trying to piece together why they wanted you out. It's not worth it, Aaron," she whispered, caressing his hand. "Just focus on getting back Jack, that's all that matters."

"But have you?" He pressed.

"Okay. If you want the truth… There have definitely been times, where I haven't been able to confidently predict you executing your plan going into a particular situation." She sighed. "But doubt? Not once. I've seen you walk straight into a gunman's home like an idiot, but at least you came out the other side in one piece. You go into everything with an end-goal, and I admire that."

He nodded, genuinely grateful for her honesty. "Thank you."

"For the most part, as much as you can at times be a dick, I think you are a great leader, and you want the best for the team. That's why you make the decisions you make. And I wouldn't want to change that."

Hotch squeezed at her hand as he smiled, genuinely smiled for what felt like the first time all week. He loved her; everything about her. All the flaws, the humour, even her blunt honesty. He'd spend the rest of the night making sure she well and truly knew that.