A/N: Hey guys! Remember me? No? I didn't think so. Lol. As per usual, I am super sorry for the long wait. Any excuses I've given in the past (I know, there are many) still stand, with three added new ones: 1) Over the summer, I got engaged! 2) My youngest sister's wedding is a month away. And 3) My other younger sister is pregnant! So, yeah… I've been busy. Anyways, enough with the excuses, I hope you enjoy. And… oh, I forgot, I have a fourth excuse, but this one relates to all of you. Once again, I've been co-hosting the 2015 Profilers Choice Criminal Minds Fanfiction Awards, so stay tuned to the end for a little blurb on that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

Chapter 28:

The knife slid through pie and crust easily. Turns out rinsing a knife in hot water before slicing worked to minimize crumbing. Hotch would have to thank Garcia for that particular tip. He'd also have to thank her for the actual pie—homemade, pumpkin, and Jack's favorite.

Pieces cut, he set the knife down on the counter and reached for the spatula next, lifting said pieces of pie out onto two plates. Not done in the kitchen yet, he leaned against the counter and watched the milk he'd put on the stove, waiting for it to boil. Hailey had taught him that instant hot chocolate just didn't cut it during the holiday season. Hot cocoa, made with steaming hot milk, was where it was at, according to his ex-wife. It was a holiday tradition Hotch had kept up for his son's sake. Admittedly, it wasn't a hard one to enforce.

Hotch let out a content sigh as he revelled in the peacefulness that was currently his home. It was silent. Not a thing, a person, anything was stirring. The TV was off. No one else was home. It was just him and Jack; the latter, in his room reading at the moment. It was a nice change from the last day and a half.

Jessica had done Hotch the huge, unasked favor of taking her parents over to her place for Christmas Eve. They'd have their own dinner, just parents and Jessica's family. And then, on Christmas Day, they'd all come over to Hotch's for brunch. It wasn't a long reprieve from Roy, however it was enough for Hotch to regain his sanity.

The milk bubbled once and Hotch moved closer to the stove waiting for the rest of the tell-tale bubbles to follow. When they did he gave a shout, "Jack! Two minutes, all right?"

The pie and drink were treats to go along with his and Jack's favorite Christmas movie: Elf.

Hotch poured the milk into the waiting chocolate filled mugs and stirred. He pulled the cold milk from the fridge and added an extra dose of milk to Jack's cup, not wanting his to be scalding hot. He placed the dishes on a tray and carried them out to the living room just as his nine-year old came speeding past.

"Whoa!" He held on tight to the tray for fear of dropping it and gave his son a scolding look.

Jack shot his dad a sheepish one in return and added, "Sorry, dad."

Hotch smiled, resuming his walk. "It's all right, son. It's Aunt Penelope's pie, I understand."

They sat down, Hotch in the recliner, Jack in the adjacent sofa; both seats were angled towards their rarely used TV.

Hotch divvied up their goodies and then sat back with the remote. "Ready?"

He was surprised when there wasn't an instant response of "Ready" from his son. Instead, Jack hesitated, looking to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room first. No, not the tree, but specifically the star at the top.

The tree topper was very special to his son. The star was actually a picture frame; it held a picture of baby Jack and his mother the day he was born.

Hotch knew something was up, he just didn't know what.

He waited for his son to say what was bothering him; instead, he finally responded with "Ready."

Hotch didn't exactly want to shrug it off, but he knew that if something was bothering Jack he'd tell him eventually. So, he pressed play on the paused movie. Hotch waited until Jack picked up his pie and dug into it before he relaxed and picked up his own piece.

About halfway through the movie, his pie all gone, Hotch felt a tingling feeling at the back of his neck, his tell-tale sign that someone was watching him. He glanced over at his son; Jack quickly glanced away, staring, obviously unseeingly, at the TV screen.

Ok… Hotch thought. What's going on?

He wasn't too concerned until he noticed Jack's pie sat in his lap only half eaten. Strange, since it was his favorite thing in the world. By all rights it should have been gobbled up by the time the opening credits were over. He reiterated his earlier thoughts: something was definitely up and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Pausing the movie, he turned to his son who continued to steadfastly avoid his gaze.

"Jack…" he began slowly. He waited until the young boy finally faced him; there was a nervous look to him. "Is there something on your mind? Something you want to tell me?"

He watched Jack's gaze flit discreetly back to the star atop the tree. So, this had something to do with his mother, which wasn't so strange. Every Christmas since her passing, Hotch made sure to talk to Jack about Hailey, to reminisce and get out old pictures. Maybe Jack was choosing this moment to do just that. Still, he wavered, shrugging his little shoulders, feigning indifference.

"You know, son, you can ask or tell me anything, right? Whatever it is, I'll listen calmly," Hotch said assuredly. A promise he wasn't so sure he could keep if his son got up to teenage shenanigans later in life. For now, he could handle anything Jack threw at him.

Or so he thought…

With one more hesitant glance his way, Jack leaned forward and placed his plate on the coffee table. He looked his father dead on.

"Dad…"

"Yes…" he said, taking a sip of his now warm cocoa.

"How come… how come you haven't married anyone else after mom?"

"Oh!" Hotch blurted, at the same time choking on the sip he'd taken. Ok, he thought as he coughed some air back into his lungs. I did not see that coming.

Jack recoiled slightly, thrown off by his father's jerky response.

Hotch cleared his throat, trying for a serene, understanding look, but he was sure he was still red-faced from the brief attack.

"Well…" he trailed off, stalling for time. Deep down he'd known this would come up someday, so why hadn't he planned a response for it beforehand? He guessed all he could do now was give him an honest, but thoughtful answer. "I guess… I just haven't found the right person yet…"

Ok, not exactly honest. Hotch was pretty sure he'd found her. Except, he'd messed up so badly with Maizy that it would take a lot to get to the point where he could conceivably say to Jack that he'd found that special someone.

Jack frowned at his response so he added for good measure, "Plus, your mother was very special to me, Jack."

His little face scrunched up even more. "But, you were divorced!" Jack stated bluntly.

Hotch shook his head. "That doesn't mean I didn't care for her still. We didn't divorce because we stopped loving each other, but because—"

"Because mom didn't like your job," Jack finished impatiently. Hotch gave his son a quizzical look, curious as to how he knew that. "Aunt Jessica told me."

"I see." He wasn't sure what else to say. And it seemed Jack had tired of the subject, at least, he'd gone back to eating his pie.

Thinking the conversation was over, Hotch reached for his cocoa. A mistake. Because Jack was so far from being done with the subject, apparently, he was just getting started.

So, when he said in an oh-so-helpful tone, "Mrs. Tibbs could be the right person!" the sip of cocoa he was just about to swallow took another wrong turn and Hotch was choking all over again.

This time Jack came over and patted his father on the back a couple of times.

Recovering, Hotch looked at his son warily. "What?"

"She's nice," Jack explained slowly as he retook his seat. And then, gaining momentum, he continued, "And pretty. And she likes me. You like her too, dad, right? Uncle Dave said so. He said you do—"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Hotch exclaimed, putting his hands up for Jack to put on the brakes. "He said that to you?" The only thing on Hotch's brain suddenly was how he was going to give Dave a piece of his mind.

Jack shook his head furiously. "No. I heard him talking to Mrs. Williams once, when he picked her up from school."

Oh God, things were getting a bit too convoluted. And apparently he wanted more. He did want Maizy.

"Jack, what did I tell you about listening to your Uncle Dave?"

Jack blew out an annoyed breath. He quoted, "'Never ever listen to anything Uncle Dave has to say.'"

Hotch sat back happily. If he didn't teach his son anything at least he got one important fact across. "That's right," he said, self-satisfied.

"But, it's true! Even Mrs. Williams said so," Jack argued.

Hotch shook his head. Whether it was true or not—so true—they had no right putting ideas into his son's head. He would definitely be talking to them.

"Jack," he began gently, "you know Ms. Tibbs is Uncle Spencer's girlfriend, right?"

"I know," Jack said contritely. Still he rushed on a moment later. "But she'd be perfect for you."

"Jack…"

"No, wait, listen. Her dad was in the army. He had to stay away a lot too. So, she would be ok with you staying away all the time. You're just like her dad. You protect people, just like he did. She wouldn't care if you had to go catch the bad guys. She'd stay here with me, and we'd wait for you together."

Hotch was speechless. For a nine year old he'd given this a lot of thought. But then wasn't it every kid's dream from a single-parent family to have that 'perfect' family. And was it a wonder he'd chosen Maizy to fill that role? He did spend a whole lot of time with her. And Hotch probably hadn't helped, making googly eyes at her every chance he could. With or without Dave and Bree's help he'd gotten them into this situation, he had to fix it.

He looked at his son's hopeful eyes. Hotch wanted nothing more than to say to him at that moment, 'Why, yes, Jack, you're right.' But that would be irresponsible of him. Hotch had hope that one day what Jack wanted, what he wanted, would come true. Still, he couldn't do that to Jack. There was a strong chance that both their dreams wouldn't come true. So, he just couldn't give Jack false hope. Nevertheless, he also couldn't dismiss this carelessly; this was Jack's hopes and dreams.

"Jack… son…" he said, trying to find the words. "Whether or not I like Ms. Tibbs doesn't matter. I can't force her to be with me. And right now, she wants to be with Spencer."

"But, that could change!"

Hotch nodded "Yes, still Reid is happy. Would it be ok to do something to hurt your Uncle Spencer?"

"No," Jack said fervently.

"So, unless Ms. Tibbs changes her mind, she's with Reid."

"I understand," Jack said solemnly, but his added sigh said he still wasn't happy about it.

"Good boy. Now eat your pie."

They went silent a bit until Hotch heard Jack mumble, "I'd still be ok with Mrs. Tibbs as my mom."

So would I, he thought as he pressed play and Buddy resumed his antics.

Reid sat at Maizy's kitchen table, feeling anxious for a number of reasons. For one, he was blocked in on all sides by men. Looking from his left to his right, Maizy's cousins had him sandwiched. And directly across from him sat Maizy's uncle.

It was fine. Reid didn't care where he sat, he was just happy to be included in the festivities. Except…

Except, he wanted to be near Maizy. The number one reason he felt anxious was because of her revelation earlier. He'd yet to see her after Aunt Amanda had interrupted the private moment. Neither had come down since.

The experience was traumatic and painful, to say the least. From personal experience, he knew the retelling of it, reliving it essentially, could be almost as painful as the actual event. So, yeah, he wanted to be close to her. He wanted to hold her hand through dinner, wanted to be able to touch her to keep her anchored to the here an now. Reid wanted his girlfriend to know that whatever happened, he'd be there for her, always.

But every time he turned to Mason or Carter to suggest they move they'd give him a menacing glare, as if daring him to say something.

Reid stared down at the empty place setting instead, deep in thought. He'd started to suspect pretty early in their relationship that Maizy had gone through something traumatic in her life. But to lose her innocence and her mother in one night, he had to admit, he hadn't imagined that. It was like something straight out of one of their cases. Something that happened to random strangers and rarely hit so close to home. He had no idea what to say; he only hoped his love, support, and presence would bring Maizy some measure of comfort.

"All right, everyone," Reid heard Maizy's aunt's booming voice coming from behind him. He turned to see her just coming through the kitchen entrance. And right behind her was the woman he couldn't stop thinking about. "We're here. The party can begin… now!"

Reid's eyes met Maizy's; she gave him a timid smile. It would be clear to anyone with eyes that she'd recently shed some tears, but to him she looked as glorious as ever. Her smile brightened as he continued to stare.

He noted the moment her eyes slipped off him and took in the table situation. Her frown then, was deep.

"Very funny, you guys!" she pronounced loudly. "Mason, move; sit next to your wife.

"Uncle Chris, in all the years we've been having Christmas dinners when have you not sat at the head of the table?" Her uncle actually gave Maizy a sheepish look.

"Move it, people!"

A flurry of movement occurred then. Reid's eyes flitted here and there until everyone seemed to be in the right place. As the dust settled, Chris and Amanda were at either end of the table, the family of three were across him, Carter was still to his right and Maizy was now on his left.

"Hi," she said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Hi," he said back, with an added 'are you all right?' inflection. Because smile aside, he needed to make sure.

"I'm ok," she whispered, squeezing his hand once again. He gave her a nod and she turned to address the table. "Christmas dinner, anyone?"

Hotch watched as Jack skipped ahead of him a few steps, up the short walkway. He chuckled lightly to himself at his son's eagerness. Truthfully, he could say the feeling was mutual, though, he knew their reasons were completely different.

Jack had forgotten to give Maizy his Christmas gift to her before they'd adjourned for winter break. And it was just this morning, as they opened the gifts under the tree that they'd discovered the small gift bag tucked amongst the gifts. Jack was so distraught that Hotch had offered to drive his son over to Maizy's after Christmas brunch, altruistically of course…

Ok, not really.

It had been only a few short days since he'd seen her at the FBI Christmas party and had declared his intentions, but already he missed Maizy fiercely. It was ridiculous; she wasn't his to miss, but he did. A lot. And so here they were at Maizy's home.

Hotch hadn't been there since the first time, the night he'd 'rescued' Maizy from the hand-sy man at the bar, but it was just as he remembered it. Quaint and picturesque, made even more so by the light dusting of snow that had fallen overnight. It looked like a picture straight out of a perfect home magazine. It was a home ready for a little family to make perfect memories in, he thought wistfully.

He sighed and it wasn't until Jack turned on the front stoop and yelled back impatiently, "Dad!" that he realized he'd halted mid-step, lost as he was in his fantasies. He started ahead.

His nerves hit him the second Jack's finger pressed the doorbell. Not outweighing his eagerness to see Maizy, but casting doubt on the soundness of the idea of visiting on a night that guaranteed to include Reid.

He only had time to think, 'Crap!' before the door swung open to reveal a blonde-headed woman. Hotch wasn't sure who she was; she bent at the waist to address Jack first, a kind smile on her face.

"Hi, I'm Jack Hotchner," he heard his son begin to explain. "That's my dad." His little thumb pointed over his shoulder and Hotch hurried forward. "We're here to see Mrs. Tibbs."

"Umm… hi," Hotch greeted less eloquently than his son, putting his hand out, nevertheless.

"Hi," she returned, shaking his hand, beaming brightly at him. "You must be Aaron."

"Ah… yes," he said, surprised.

The woman laughed at his obvious bewilderment. "Maizy's mentioned you once or twice." She winked then and Hotch had no idea how to interpret it. "I'm Alyssa; I'm married to Maizy's cousin, Mason. Why don't you two come in, I'm sure she would be happy to see you both."

"Oh, we couldn't—" Hotch began to say, just as Jack exclaimed, "Ok!" and ran right in.

Hotch gave Alyssa a sheepish look. "I swear I raised him with some manners."

Alyssa chuckled. "It's all right. It's Christmas. Wild exuberance is a must."

The woman gestured for him to follow her inside. "We're just finishing up dinner. We're about to have dessert. You and Jack are welcome to join us."

"Oh, we can't stay long," he finished his earlier protest.

She took him down a short hallway that opened onto an eat-in kitchen. They'd arrived just in time to hear Jack proclaim, "Open it, Mrs. Tibbs!" There were discreet chuckles around the table at either his excitement or use of Mrs. Hotch was just glad that as they entered all eyes were on Maizy and Jack. There sure were a lot of people present! Including Reid.

Hotch's eyes fell on his youngest agent and friend and it was as if Reid sensed he'd been spotted. Their eyes met briefly; Reid didn't exactly look pleased to see him, however, he didn't look exactly surprised either. Hotch gave him a nod of acknowledgment which he returned not without a thin line to his lips.

"Oh, Jack, this is great!" Maizy exclaimed, breaking the men's reverie.

"Read it," Jack urged.

Hotch found Maizy right away. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty rosy color. Her hair was slightly frazzled; but to him she looked beautiful.

"'World's Best Teacher,'" she read carefully. "Thank you so much, Jack. It's exactly what I wanted."

She reached an arm around his son's shoulders, squeezing tightly in a hug. Hotch loved her all the more for the gesture. He could picture a time when hugs like that would be an everyday occurrence.

"Hello, Aaron." A voice startled him out of the fantasies his mind had begun to weave and suddenly all eyes were on him.

Hotch met the gaze of the one who'd spoken. "Hello, Amanda, how have you been?" he greeted politely.

"You remembered!" She beamed up at him happily.

"Of course." He grinned. "How could I forget?"

She gave him a mischievous wink and proceeded to introduce everyone at the table, her family. "And, of course, you already know Spencer."

"Hey, Hotch," Reid said blandly.

"Hi," Hotch replied awkwardly, avoiding the urge to squirm under his friend's disapproving scrutiny.

Whatever Reid thought, he hadn't planned this. Hotch had set out Jack's gift to Maizy a week before the last day of school for him to take with him. He had no idea how it had gotten under the tree. Maybe Jessica had put it there, thinking of this exact scenario. Or, now that he thought of it, his conversation with Jack the day before was oddly timed. Maybe Jack had planned this all along.

Right, Aaron, your son is nine; he doesn't have a scheming bone in his body… Besides, how would Jack know that you know where his teacher lives?

Whatever the answer, it didn't matter. What mattered was that all eyes were on him, waiting expectantly. Hoch opened his mouth to say… something?

He'd really wanted to speak with Maizy alone, but he couldn't find the words to suggest it under Reid's watchful eye.

"Jack, do you like pumpkin pie?"

His blue eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at Maizy's aunt's question. "Do I ever?" he exclaimed earning more chuckles.

"Why don't you have a piece while your dad and Miss. Tibbs have a chat," Amanda suggested.

Maizy looked taken aback by the suggestion. She'd yet to say anything to him; that, combined with her apparent reluctance to speak with him, stirred up all of Hotch's uncertainties all over again.

Her eyes remained steadfastly away from him, he noted. Hotch watched as she deliberately looked from her aunt to Reid, as if asking for permission. Reid's face remained stoic, but apparently she had her answer. Finally, her wide-eyed gaze landed on him, giving him a shy smile.

"Umm… yeah, I have something for the both of you," she said, voice low, measured and subdued. As if she were afraid raising her voice would set the room ablaze. It was a powder keg of tension in there, he felt.

Slowly, she got out of her seat and moved towards him. Her face seemed to ease from its abrupt tenseness the closer she got. Whether because she was actually happy to see him or the fact she could no longer see how Reid's face all of the sudden took on a censorious frown at her acceptance to speak with him, he wasn't sure. Maybe both.

"This way," she said.

Hotch let her lead the way out of the kitchen.

"Jack, have a seat next to Spencer. Your dad will be back shortly," Hotch heard Amanda say.

"Hi, Uncle Spencer," was the last thing he could hear from the kitchen as they moved farther away.

Maizy led them into her small living room. She stopped next to the Christmas tree that took up nearly one-quarter of the space of the room. It was huge.

"Your presents are here somewhere," she started; suddenly she was on her knees, rummaging through a few unopened gifts and a massive pile of used wrapping paper. "I got you and Jack something… Oh and Jessica too. You don't think that's weird, do you?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Only she was so nice to me during Thanksgiving. Can you pass it along to her for me? Sorry it's such a mess—"

"Maizy," he interrupted.

"Oh!" she gasped out in surprise, like she'd forgotten she'd been talking to anyone at all.

He waited for her to stand. When she did he noticed a curl had escaped its precarious hold and flopped over her face. Without thinking, he brushed the tendril back, his fingers grazing across her forehead; the smoothness of her skin was exquisite. Her breath hitched at the touch, making him realize just what he was doing.

"Sorry," he tried, but his voice came out hoarse. "Sorry…"

She pushed the curl back herself, almost furiously, blushing all the brighter. She was breathing again, at least.

Hotch let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Maizy. I really didn't mean to ambush you at home. We'll leave right away."

Maizy grasped his hand quickly, though he'd made no move to go. "No wait!" She let it go just as fast. Nevertheless, Hotch savored the brief second. "I'm glad you came… I missed you… both."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said softly. She let her eyes meet his from beneath the fringe of her lashes. There was confusion there, a whole lot of it over their complicated situation, but under it all, he could see all too clearly her feelings for him. And that was the best Christmas gift he could ever receive.

"I… I got you something," he said tentatively.

"Aaron—Oh!" He'd reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long thin box from inside. He hadn't been certain if he should or not. Now he knew. "You shouldn't have—"

"Open it first," he urged gently. "Please."

She looked from the box back up into his eyes; he hoped she could see all he felt for her. All the things he felt but couldn't say just yet.

She nodded once, taking the delicately wrapped box from his fingers. Their fingers met as she did so and sparks shot from the contact up his spine. It wasn't only him who felt them. Maizy looked up at him sharply, wonder all over her face, before she bent her head to the task of unwrapping the gift.

She peeled back the paper to reveal the red velvet covered jewellery box he'd wrapped up. "Aaron—" she launched her protests.

His hands covered hers quickly, cutting her off. He gave her fingers wrapped around the box a squeeze before he helped her open the hinged lid.

Inside lay a delicate looking bracelet; green stones alternated with gold filigree leaves. She looked up at him, uncertain.

"It's… it's beautiful."

There was a hint of question to her tone.

"I know what you're going to say." He smiled tenderly at her. That it was too much. That this wasn't a gift given between friends. And she would be right. The word friend was furthest from his mind right now. "It's yours. I saw it and instantly thought of you, Maizy. It reminds me of you, so full of life…"

Hotch wasn't exactly in control of his actions then, but the next thing he knew he was reaching out and deliberately caressing her cheek. Her breath hitched and so did his. He waited for her to make the next move. As far as he knew she had three choices: 1) slap him and demand of him just what he thought he was doing; 2) lean in and kiss him—his irrational brain hoped for this one; and 3) try to refuse the gift on the grounds of friendship.

Hotch's money was on option number three.

Aaron's fingers brushed across her cheek, purposefully. And in that moment all Maizy wanted to do was pull the man in for a kiss. She'd noticed it before. The few times Aaron had touched her, how she had the incredible urge to lock lips with him thereafter.

She wouldn't. Couldn't. Of course.

Why not? a hazy part of her brain asked—probably the part that was so engrossed in the midnight pools of his eyes.

Because your boyfriend is just in the other room. Spencer, remember him? the decidedly rational part of her brain responded.

Oh. Yeah…

The moment was definitely a non-friendly one. And the feelings coursing through her were unquestionably not what a friend should be feeling for another friend. And with that realization, Maizy attempted to rein in this runaway train of a moment. "It's too much… Aaron. I can't."

Ok, why don't you try that again, Maizy, without the breathy quality to your voice?

But it was too late; Aaron shook his head, taking the bracelet from the box. He took her hand in his, turning it over before fastening the pretty piece to her wrist.

"You can," he assured. "It's yours. If I took it back, I'd only hold on to it until you did accept it. Now or later, it's inevitable, Maizy." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I'm just speeding things along."

She chuckled. "You realize I don't respond well to ultimatums, right?"

Aaron retook her hand, turning it over as if examining the look of the bracelet. His fingers ran across the back of her hand, causing her to shiver all over again. "It's not an ultimatum, it's a guarantee."

He leaned in towards her and for one unbelievable moment she did the same. Until that not so hazy part of her brain screamed, What are you doing?

Maizy quickly pulled back; she felt her cheeks flush with heat. "Aaron… I … I," she stuttered, staring at the ground.

She heard his let out sigh before saying, "Sorry." His tone, though, was reluctant.

She took a step back, forcing some distance between them. She looked up at him. He was frowning now. She didn't want that. Didn't want to hurt him. But what could she do. He had to understand, she was with Spencer now.

"We should, uh…" she trailed off dumbly.

He nodded once. "Yeah."

Maizy turned and began to lead the way back to the noisy kitchen. But before they could be seen, she stopped them halfway down the short hall with a hand on his arm.

He looked at her questioningly; unfortunately, she knew her next words weren't exactly the ones he hoped to hear. "Thank you."

Apparently it was enough. Aaron's face lit up again. He smiled at her warmly, almost lo—

She cut herself mid-thought. Life was complicated enough without imagining feelings into it, she reprimanded herself.

Reluctantly, she turned away from the happiness on his face for fear of melting into a puddle then and there. She made her way into the kitchen.

The second she was noticed, all eyes were on her and probably Aaron behind her. The noise of moments before dissipated.

Maizy shifted uncomfortably on spot, not knowing how to transition out of this awkward interlude. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for hints, while avoiding the knowing gaze of her aunt and the confused one of Spencer.

Scanning, scanning, her eyes fell on Jack.

"Jack!" she exclaimed excitedly, startling the boy. Oops. Her cheeks tinged a deeper shade of red, she was sure, as she did the cowardly thing and focused on the little boy.

Toning her voice down, she said, "Thank you so much for my gift. I love it."

She held the mug up for everyone to appreciate it. And Jack beamed at the praise. He got out of his seat, coming around the table towards her. Jack hugged her side. "You're the best, Mrs. Tibbs."

She hugged him back. When Jack let go, Maizy stepped back and caught Aaron's facial expression. There was the fondness for her there, but she thought she knew him well enough to also see the hint of worry underneath it all. She tried to inconspicuously send him a questioning look, but a slight shake of his head told her not to trouble herself. And the smile he gave her allowed her, for the moment, to just enjoy the now. She'd dwell on his look later.

Jack faced his father and Aaron asked, "You all done your pie?" Jack nodded. "Well, we should get going then."

"Are you sure you couldn't stay a bit longer, Aaron, dear?" Her aunt drew his attention.

He shook his head. "We've got a few more stops to make," he explained. Aaron turned his head slightly. Maizy followed his line of sight to see he was looking at Spencer, who was frowning. "And we've already intruded enough."

"It was no intrusion. Always good to see you Aaron," Aunt Amanda said for her—familiarly, as if this wasn't only the second time she'd ever met the man. Maizy would have laughed at her aunt's outright adoration of the man, if it weren't for her boyfriend's weighty scowl.

"It was nice meeting, you all. Merry Christmas," he said to the group.

"I'll walk you two out," she said, not missing Spencer's angry look. She would have to deal with the fall out later, she thought, sighing.

"Such a handsome man," they heard her aunt gush.

"Amanda," her uncle Chris exclaimed, though Maizy could tell he was amused.

"What, it's the truth. And that young man of his, so polite…" she continued.

Maizy chose to ignore the overheard conversation, as did both Hotchner's, as she walked them toward the door.

Opening it, they stood in the doorway together. Jack, eager to get a move on, threw a hasty goodbye. But his father lingered.

"We're off to JJ and Will's," he offered. "Jack can't wait to exchange gifts with Henry."

"Ah ok." That made sense.

"So…" Aaron said. "I'll see you soon?"

She smiled. "I hope so." No matter what they were to each other, she would always enjoy his company.

Maizy watched him as he looked down her lawn to see Jack climbing into Aaron's SUV. He turned back to her and did the most surprising thing. He planted a light kiss on her cheek.

Stunned, Maizy stood there while Aaron murmured his goodbye.

Warmth threatened to overwhelm her. It was a moment or two later when she realized they were gone and she was still standing there, hand on her cheek.

"Oh God," she whispered to herself. What were they doing?

Spencer! she remembered. Flustered or not, she had to get back inside.

Maizy took a couple of deep breaths, mentally willing her cheeks to lighten, and with a sense of apprehension she made her way back to the festivities.

Without meeting anyone's gazes, she retook her seat next to Spencer.

"They left?"

Maizy's head shot to her right, surprised at the tone of Spencer's voice. Disdainful and disapproving. It was a tone she'd never heard from him and never heard directed at herself at least. And she didn't think she deserved it. After all, she hadn't invited Aaron over. And what was she supposed to do, ignore him? When he'd come over to her house?

"Yeah…" she said slowly. She was willing to ignore his tone, understanding, after all, where it came from. She reached a hand out to grab the mug Jack had given her, wanting to change the subject. "Isn't this love—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer took hold of her reaching hand, fingers circling her wrist lightly. It was the hand with the bracelet on it. Uh oh!

"This is nice," he commented for all to hear. "Is it new?"

She looked up and met his hazel eyes. Both he and she knew she hadn't been wearing it prior to Aaron's visit.

"It… it was a gift…" she stuttered out uncomfortably, feeling acutely ashamed suddenly. A feeling she hated very much.

Maizy knew in that instant, as Spencer nodded once, letting go of her hand abruptly like it had been burned, that something had to give. Things could not keep going like this. Spencer's barely suppressed anger was proof of that.

"I see," he said shortly. And then, more cheerfully, "Mrs. Jenkins, is there anymore pie?"

And just like that the tension in the room eased and conversation resumed. It was sometime before she lifted her head from her plate, though. Maizy wasn't fool enough to believe she'd dodged a bullet. Nope, it was still hurtling fast towards her.

And… that's it for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter is sure to be a tense one and guess what I've started to write it (I know, this means nothing, lol). I'll try to have it up as soon as possible.

I wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who's been reading and alerting this story. Thank you for not giving up on me. Lol. Also a big thank you to all who have reviewed, they really do give me the kick in the pants I need to get to writing, so thank you: MrsChipRockefeller; LittleFlipendo; LimitedLegendFTW; ria199923 (they are irresistible, aren't they?! Lol); blue-lily295 (I do have an endgame person in mind; I think the ending will be pretty satisfying, though that's me saying so. Lol); crazehfreakbehungreh000; Guest; nebula2 (tarred and feathered? Lol Poor Hotch); Ryn; marcallie; sdesalang; Annber03 (thank you); and Ezeiel.

And a little note about the Profiler's Choice Awards:

The 2015 Profiler's Choice Awards are on! Calling all CM readers and Authors! Join us for the final round in our annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards; help us choose the best of the best Criminal Minds fanfiction and let your voice be heard. Check out the final ballot and rules at the Profilers Choice Awards 2015 Forum (direct link in my profile). All rules and information can be found there. Voting ends February 29, 2016.