Episode: Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

"Hey," Emily looked up from cleaning up Jack's Hot Wheel set to see Hotch come in through the door, exhausted and looking about as drained as he could. Emily took a step forward, brushing her hands off and giving Hotch a quick hello kiss. "You came home late, what happened?"

"Do I... not trust people?'' The words came out in a rush, overflowing from things Hotch needed to say.

"I'm not exactly the best person to ask that too," Emily replied, leaning down and putting away the last of Jack's toys. She yawned, sitting down on the couch and stretching her arms as Hotch dropped his briefcase and sat beside her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well we didn't exactly start off on a very trusting foot, did we? I'm not saying now, of course, but it wasn't really smooth sailing to start."

Hotch paused a moment to consider this and then pressed on. "But I don't trust people, do I?"

"The team trusts you and that's enough, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Anxiety oozed out of Hotch's every pore and Emily raised an eyebrow at this sudden influx of teenage-like angst.

"Ok, what got into you? Did Strauss chew you out after the case or something?" Emily adjusted herself so she was stretched out over the couch, her legs draped across Hotch's.

"It's just... been a long day, I suppose."

"Yeah, that happens with this job I hear."

"Funny, I've heard the same thing." Hotch rolled his eyes and was about to consider pulling Emily onto his lap when his phone went off, effectively ruining the possible moment.

"Hotchner."

Emily mouthed that she was going to say goodnight to Jack and left. She wasn't blind; she knew something had been up with Strauss. And she knew that Hotch and Derek had something to do with it. Emily pushed Jack's door open (He never closed it the whole way, it was too dark, he explained) and peeked in to see Jack sitting there, staring up at his ceiling thoughtfully.

"Hey, Sweetie, it's bedtime now," Emily sat down on the corner of the bed, about to turn off the lamp when Jack spoke.

"Emmy why do you call Daddy that name?"

"What name, Jack?" Emily ran through her memories quickly, frowning momentarily before it hit her. "Hotch?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Because that's what I call him at work, Jack."

"Oh," For a second he seemed satisfied and Emily was about to flick off the light before he piped up again. "Are you at work now?"

"No, silly," Emily tweaked his nose and Jack giggled before looking serious again. "I'm home now."

"Then why do you still call him that? His name is Daddy," Jack added, seriously.

"Jack, it doesn't make sense for me to call your dad Daddy. How about I just call him by his first name, ok?"

Instead of replying, Jack yawned and snuggled down deeper into his layers of blanket. Emily smiled, finally flicking off the light and without a moment of hesitation, laying a small kiss on his forehead.

From the doorframe, Hotch looked on, leaning casually against it as Emily stood and turned, stepping out into the hallway to join Hotch as she closed the door almost the whole way.

"So are you going to start calling me Daddy now?" He asked innocently. Emily whacked him on the side of the head good-naturedly and proceeded to the bedroom. Following behind, Hotch pulled off his jacket and undid his tie, tossing them onto a chair in the corner of the room.

"So what was the call about?" Emily asked from inside the closet, pulling off her clothes and searching for some form of pajamas. She settled for an old shirt, so faded that she didn't even know whose it was.

"It was just Morgan checking up. No big deal."

Emily climbed into bed having already brushed her teeth, rolling her eyes despite the fact that Hotch, who was in the bathroom, couldn't see her.

"After your little breakdown about telling the truth, it pains me to tell you that you're kind of proving yourself in the wrong here."

"Whaght?" Hotch poked his head out of the bathroom, teeth half brushed and toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Emily smiled at the image, comparing it mentally to the Hotch—no, Aaron—that she knew at work.

"I can tell when you're lying, Sweetie."

There were a few minutes of silence and Hotch emerged, rubbing his face along his phantom beard and pulling off his dress shirt and undoing his pants, also tossing them onto the same chair as before. Emily wondered how surprised people would be to learn that Hotch was the messy one in their relationship.

"Who says I was lying?"

"The master profiler in this bedroom."

"Right, of course," Hotch surrendered, tugging back the sheets and sliding into bed and lying down, propping himself up on his elbow as he faced Emily who was sitting up and smirking at him.

"You do trust people, Aaron, but your default setting is not to. Like now."

"I do trust you. I completely and utterly 100% trust you," Pause. "But this isn't my secret to tell."

"Ah, always the gentleman. You are absolutely not fun to gossip with."

"Well I suppose I'll just have to be fun for other things," Hotch sighed dramatically, rolling over and pinning Emily down, kissing her languidly.

"I suppose you just will have to, won't you, Aaron." Emily pulled back, the name still sounding foreign on her lips.

"I think I could definitely get used to you calling me that."

Emily smiled against his lips, flipping them over in one motion.

"You better."

Hotch was about to continue down the wonderful path that this sort of thing usually entailed when he stopped, pulling away for a moment and pondering for a moment.

"By the way, how's your ivy rash?"

"Hm," Emily paused along with him, trying to look serious but failing. "I guess you'll just have to trust that I won't get you all itchy tomorrow."

"And to think, people think you're the nice one in this relationship."

Hideaway – The Weepies