NB: This takes place before/after the episode. The actual episode doesn't really get mentioned much in here.
Episode: Diving Rod
The day was peaceful, a shaft of sunlight shining down on the bed where Emily was sitting up, thumbing her way to the end of a book. The pages rustled softly, whispering the words that ran across the page, her mind elsewhere. Cases had been never ending for the last little while, or at least it felt that way. The gentle reminder that they hadn't been home in a long time came in the form of finding her toothbrush sitting in a cup on the jet and the nod of acceptance from Jack instead of a heartfelt plea not to leave as Emily kissed him goodbye to explain that they wouldn't be home for another few days.
But they were alright now. They had a few off days and Emily was looking forward to just... not doing anything.
A rustling of bed sheets beside Emily alerted her to Hotch waking, a yawn piercing the momentary stillness. She glanced over to see him rubbing his face, mouth stretching into another yawn as he turned over to her, one eye closed, and the other squinting against the brightness of the sun through the window.
"Did you even sleep last night?" Hotch's arms crept around Emily waist as he tugged her back and rested his head on her shoulder, scanning the book she was reading. "No way... is that Dave's?"
Emily shrugged and put it down on her bedside table, settling into the curve of Hotch's body with a yawn herself. "I asked the team for book suggestions and guess who came up with this?"
Hotch snorted, reaching up to rub at his eyes. The sun cast down on Emily's face, lighting her face sharply. Hotch grimaced, angling his head so he could see her profile better, his cheek brushing her shoulder. She looked pale. Not just pale, but gaunt, shadows hanging under her eyes that he'd never seen before except during the Doyle case.
"Hey," Hotch could feel Emily shiver as he spoke, his breath brushing her skin. "You okay?"
In the few moments of silence, Hotch's mind flashed back to the incident after his triathlon where Emily had been dragged into the washroom only to spend 10 minutes in there, exit and immediately try and leave, pretending that nothing had happened. JJ and Garcia had said that her food hadn't agreed with her, but JJ had gotten the exact same thing and she had seemed fine.
But he hadn't mentioned it. And he didn't plan to, either. Bringing up something that she obviously didn't want to never was a good idea.
"Yeah, I'm just... tired, I guess." Emily glanced over at Hotch, who didn't say anything. "I just feel like I want to do something. I feel a bit-" Emily cut off, biting her lip and looking down. Hotch nudged her gently, prompting her to finish her train of thought.
"... missing. I feel like something's missing." She didn't look up. Didn't look away. She just sat, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them.
"I kind of felt the same," Hotch tugged Emily closer, kissing her neck and pondering if he should continue with his train of thought. "But I think I know the answer."
Pause. Wait for her to turn, look into her eyes.
"I was looking at real estate. As in, actual houses for us to live in." Hotch blinked, resting his head on her shoulder again. "What do you think?"
OoOoOoO
The laptop blinked on, breaking the team's conversation. It was lulling already, but the cheery sound of Garcia's voice broke through their gentle stupor.
"Hello, my pretties! Oh," She frowned, squinting through the camera at Emily. "You aren't looking very pretty, gumdrop. I actually think I have some news that may brighten your day!"
Emily frowned at that, glancing over at Hotch, whose face was buried in a case file. He wasn't really paying attention to it though, and shrugged at Garcia's words without really contemplating them.
"Well, someone stopped by the office looking for a Mr. Aaron Hotchner. I told them that he wasn't in. They told me it was urgent. I told them I'd give him whatever it was they had for him." Garcia paused here to waggle her eyebrows suggestively. Emily rolled her eyes, making a shooing motion for Garcia to continue her story.
The blonde cleared her throat, obviously waiting for everyone to listen to her tale. "Well, the man said that he was from a certain department. As in, one not part of the FBI. As in..." Garcia paused, eyeing the corner of the screen where Hotch was looking up, his mind suddenly connecting the dots and realising that Garcia was about to spill the beans.
"Garcia, wait!" Hotch darted over, grabbing the laptop, the case file dropping to the ground as he rushed to the back of the plane, giving the screen a fierce glare.
"Are you serious?" He hissed quietly, closing the curtain as if it prevented the others from hearing him. "Whatever it is you have learned in the past 24 hours about me is 100% confidential until I deem otherwise, do you understand?" Hotch fumbled through his pockets, pulling out earphones to plug in so that Garcia could speak without anyone else hearing. She smiled cheerfully, oblivious to the seething looks she was getting.
"I don't know sir, I think it's sweet," The analyst twirled a pen between her fingers, giving her boss a smile. "I mean, buying a house without telling her? Ugh, cliché but very well received. Although, it's not like none of us foresaw it. Let's see the ring, by the way."
Hotch ground his teeth, glancing back at the curtain. He knew the team were probably jostling around each other just behind that curtain, and he turned back to the camera, choosing his words carefully.
"I don't have that yet, Garcia, I was hoping someone of your skill set would have been able to help me get it," Hotch looked on at his colleague pleadingly. She squealed. Literally, squealed right there, dropping the pen and clutching at her face.
"Oh my God, you're actually thinking of buying one? I was just kidding but this! This is so perfect, sir."
"I was hoping for as much."
"Is she right there? POP THE QUESTION NOW, I'LL RUN OUT AND HAVE THE PERFECT RING BY THE TIME YOU GUYS LAND!"
"I have my doubts on that method, let's try the usual one."
"Ugh," Garcia rolled her eyes, retrieving the pen. "Men. So by the book."
"Well? Would we be able to retrieve it? It'll probably take a long time, I think we'll need to recruit someone else and work on it during weekends."
"IT'LL BE LIKE A GIRL'S DAY OUT."
"Excuse me?" Hotch practically dropped the computer. How the hell was he supposed to keep up his image of stern boss with Garcia saying things like that?
"Please, I meant that we take JJ along. Nothing against my Chocolate Thunder, but I doubt he'd be very good at doing that kind of thing."
"You're right. But we're all tired, so let's continue this Saturday at 8."
"Make it 12, I need my beauty sleep."
"Yes, fine, whatever. Contact your people and I'm going to go sleep."
Garcia smiled, and then paused as if gathering up the courage to say something. "Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"I think..." She looked down, thinking. "I'm just so happy for you, sir. You and she deserve this. I think that you two, together, are the best thing that's happened to either of you."
Hotch smiled, almost gushing and sitting down on the floor of the plane and just talking to Garcia about Emily for hours, like some lovesick teenager. But he heard a light cough outside the curtain and the sound of someone shoving another, hissing out a reprimand and he remembered he wasn't exactly alone.
"Thank you Penelope, but I'm going to leave now. Sleep and all that," He smiled graciously. "Enjoy your hunt."
"Will do, sir."
Hotch closed the laptop, stepping forward and waiting for the sounds of people dashing all over the plane into their respective spots to dispense before pushing aside the curtain. He glanced around, noting how normal everyone looked.
"What did Garcia want?" Reid piped up, only to be jabbed by JJ, who gave him a fierce look.
"Oh, nothing, it was just this project we need to work on," He sat down between Emily and JJ wearily, rubbing at his eyes. "It's probably going to take a while."
"What project would you be working o- Ah! JJ, stop it!" Reid puzzled aloud, finishing with a squeak as JJ jabbed him again.
Hotch pretended to look confused as he watched the two. "Reorganizing some of the files online. You alright, Reid?"
"Fine, just have an itch that needs taking care of." He glared at JJ, who looked down to check her phone.
"I think there's cream for itches, Reid."
"Not for this type," He sighed dramatically, returning to the book he was reading. Hotch smiled, retrieving the case file from the floor of the plane, only to have it knocked out of his hand again by JJ, who dropped her phone to the ground in surprise as she received a text from Garcia.
"JJ?" Hotch tried to catch her eye hurriedly, easing as she looked up at him, giving him the most proud smile he'd ever seen.
"Garcia just told me," JJ whispered, eyeing Emily who was on Hotch's other side, flipping through songs on her iPod. "Saturday?"
"Yeah, at 12."
"She's going to be so happy, Hotch," JJ looked like she was about to tear up. "God, I can't believe you're doing this already."
"Me neither, but let's keep it on the down low, hm?"
JJ winked conspiratorially, picking up her phone and texting back in a rush.
Hotch leaned back, stretching an arm lazily over Emily's shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple as he scanned the case file, not taking in any of the information.
They were going to get a house together. With Jack. Married. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together.
The feeling in his gut wasn't love, wasn't excitement, wasn't a hint of nervousness. It was all of those things, combining in a fugue of something he had never felt before.
It was perfect.
The Girl – City and Colour
