December 5, 2013

Turns out they wear their sweaters for caroling.

Emily comes to them this time, in a rented Prius – which he frowns upon because, really, there's no reason for her to do that – and drives the mere two blocks to a hole-in-the-wall community center. Hotch knows about it, of course. He's volunteered there once or twice with Jack and the center puts on a variety of kid-related things Jack loves.

He hadn't known about caroling. Turns out, they do it outside, in the back. Where there are usually basketball courts, there are chairs decorated with red and green bows, facing a very makeshift stage. Everything that can be draped with fairy lights is, which means they require no other source of light. They twinkle and shine and any other day Hotch would probably be worried about a fire hazard but Emily and Jack are so enamored by the whole thing that it doesn't even cross his mind.

She's wearing that damn white hat again, the one that brings out how dark her hair is, how dark her eyes are. She's flashing that sparkly-eyed grin at every one and Jack is beaming right along with her. They make such a picture that his heart actually aches.

God, this had been such a bad idea for his heart.

But he must be a glutton for punishment because as he watches her, watches them, he can't help the warmth in his stomach, the smile on his face. He feels lighter with her here, lighter because she is. He's never seen Jack so happy either. Apparently Emily Prentiss makes suckers out of the Hotchner men.

Everyone seems to know it too. JJ had been watching him with approval all day and both Morgan and Rossi had asked how Emily was doing. As if they didn't know and hadn't seen her a few days ago themselves. Sure, maybe he's monopolizing her time, but that's not actually an active thing on his part. On the contrary it's just… Kind of working out that way. The calendar, her calendar, the calendar she made for Jack, is making things turn out that way.

And he is definitely not arguing.

It's funny. He knows he missed her. He knows she's vital to the continuing function of his team – he isn't insane enough to think that the rest of them are as stupid as he is when it comes to keeping in touch with Emily. The thing is, he doesn't think he realized how much he missed her, how much she's almost like a vital limb until he's had her back.

"Hotch?"

He blinks, hoping the shock isn't on his face. She and Jack are both looking up at him expectantly, both holding letter-sized booklets. Lyrics, he realizes belatedly. Are they supposed to sing along too? He doesn't remember seeing that.

"Sorry, what?"

Emily smiles indulgently while Jack giggles.

"Here Daddy. Should we sit here?"

He can't figure out how this is a question. There's more than enough room for him, an elderly couple sitting at the end like the Christmas cliché, but Emily merely offers him a shrug. Because it's his son, Hotch makes a show of inspecting the seats. He solemnly sits on each one, wiggling just a bit, maybe bouncing to test them out. He even ducks down, pretending to use Jack's view point. The elderly couple watches him warily but he barely pays them any mind as he turns back to Jack and Emily. Jack's trying so hard not to laugh and Emily's got a hand over her mouth doing the same,

"Good choice, Jack," he finally decides, sitting right next to the old woman. He has no idea how many people show up to these things but he doesn't want to risk people crawling over him and Emily to get to empty seats. The elderly woman leans over and places her hand on his arm to get his attention.

"That's a beautiful family you have there," she tells him, turning and nodding to Jack and Emily, dark heads bent together giggling away. He's not sure he's ever seen so much giggling in his life. "You're a good father."

He merely offers a thank you in response, feeling his cheeks heat with the praise. What else can he say? Sure, he's not being totally honest but… what does it matter that they aren't all his family if it's what his heart wants?

It turns out there's a professional choir running the show and while the audience is encouraged to sing along, he's rather glad for the choir's leading voices. It's a beautiful scene, one he wishes he'd taken advantage of long before now. A community, together, taking time to enjoy the season and just sing. He's not particularly good, but he can hear Jack's little voice on some of the more mainstream songs and the emotion that rings in Emily's on the more traditional religious hymns.

It's one of those songs, those emotional religious hymns, where he finds himself reaching out and squeezing one of her mittened hands in her lap. She looks over, squeezing back. Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears. His hand moves of it's own volition – because he most certainly does not remember telling it to rise and cup her cheek – and he slides his thumb along her cheekbone.

And in that moment he wants this more than anything he's ever wanted. It calls to him, makes him yearn for it, and he finds himself leaning towards her, closer and closer. Her eyes flutter closed and he knows he's going to kiss her. And she's going to let him.

But then there's applause and he's startled from the moment, pulling away. Reality's settling in again and her big eyes are fluttering open now, blinking at him and blushing more profusely.

What has he done?

I'm having a lot of fun writing this soft side of Hotch! We're going to logically explain it as the glimpses we got with Beth and the fact that, well, we're talking about Jack here. Like Hotch could manage to resist his little boy. It's a hell of an exercise because really, we don't see this, do we? Nope, nope, nope!

And thank you for the reviews. Again and still because I am still utterly bowled over by them. I love you all.