A/N: I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this since it's been forever since I updated. My old computer died a terrible death, and I lost all of my planning, notes, and pre-written content for both of my stories, which is too bad because I had both of them planned to the very end and had bits and pieces of various chapters written. It was hard for me to start from scratch even though I know where I was taking both stories. I definitely had some writer's block, especially with this story. I've also just had an extra crazy year last year with work, family and real life. I finally got Paramount+ and watched the new Criminal Minds Evolution, which sort of inspired me to try to get back to my stories. That said, life is still pretty crazy, so updates may be few and far between, but I am going to try to finish this - I'm just not sure how long it will take. I will offer that if anyone who has been reading wants spoilers for how this is going to end, I can include them at the end of the next chapter. I know there have been a few stories that I've fallen in love with and then been left hanging on and I would love to know how they end. I know it's not the same, but I don't want to leave anyone hanging while I try to finish this so just offering. If I do this, I will obviously give a warning so others don't have to be "spoiled."

Anyway, this one is all about Emily and Hotch. Thank you to anyone who is still reading even after all this time.

Chapter 44

"He undersold this," Emily commented as Hotch turned into the driveway of Rossi's 'cabin.'

It wasn't exactly the tiny log house that most people thought of when they heard the word cabin. For starters, there was nothing tiny about it. Rossi's so-called cabin was a beautiful multilevel house sitting on top of a hill. Big windows and a large patio overlooked a wooded area. A small lake sat at the bottom of the hill.

When he offered to let them use it as a getaway while Hannah was in Chicago and Jack was away at soccer camp, Rossi told Emily that the lake had nothing on Lake Michigan, but it was nice and peaceful. It was also still in Virginia, so Emily would be able to get back if the team had a case – though Rossi told her to let him worry about that.

Hotch parked and then glanced at Emily with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Can you really see Dave in a little log cabin?"

"No," Emily admitted. "But why call it a cabin then?" She asked exasperatedly. "This is the same guy who tells everyone that he doesn't have a house. He has a mansion."

"Maybe to him this is a cabin," Hotch said, knowing how expensive Rossi's tastes were.

"If it doesn't have a fountain or a wine cellar, he's really roughing it," Emily joked.

Hotch got both of their bags out of the trunk while Emily unloaded the groceries that they stopped for as they passed through the small town. They used the keys Rossi gave them to unlock the door and stepped into the main room of the cabin.

It had the look and feel of a hunting lodge, where men might sit around, smoking cigars and drinking bourbon. It was one big room with a wood floor and beams up to the high, lofted ceiling. The furniture was all brown leather set up around a fireplace with a flat-screen TV mounted directly above the mantle. There was a dog bed on the floor by the fireplace. It was rustic without sacrificing comfort, but it was too masculine for Emily's tastes. She wondered idly if Rossi ever brought any of his ex-wives there. She doubted it. There were no woman's touches…anywhere.

A cabin in the woods wasn't Emily's idea of a weekend getaway. A luxury hotel and casino in Atlantic City with restaurants and bars was more her speed, but Hotch would hate that.

Somehow, Emily let Rossi talk her into this. He said it would be good for her. She hadn't taken any time off since she was stabbed, and that was hardly a vacation. He described the cabin as a good place to go to get away from it all. It would just be her and Hotch. Rossi suggested that it would give them some time to reconnect. Emily thought they were already pretty connected, but Rossi seemed to think that they needed this, making her wonder if Hotch had said something to the other man.

The summer had started off with a bang, the BAU working two cases back-to-back without so much as a day off in between. There was something about the heat that brought out the crazies. As always, Hotch was nothing but understanding about the demands of the job, but that didn't mean he liked going two whole weeks without seeing her. Emily wondered if it bothered him more than he let on.

Emily thought about Rossi's many ex-wives, Haley and Hotch separating, JJ and Will fighting. Relationships were hard with what they did.

The unpredictable work schedule and frequent travel was one of the primary reasons dating rarely progressed into a relationship for Emily. Cancelling on someone that she'd just started seeing tended to come across as blowing them off and was usually interpreted as lock of interest, particularly if it happened more than once in the early stages of getting to know each other. Emily hadn't had to worry about that with Hotch – he knew it wasn't personal when she cancelled plans with him. Still, she'd been burned before. She couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be enough for anyone when the job demanded so much of her time…of her.

Emily found the kitchen easily and set the grocery bags down on the center island, noting the copper pots that hung from the ceiling above her head. Of course, Rossi would have a well-equipped kitchen in his cabin. She started putting the groceries away, but her mind was somewhere else as she went through the motions on autopilot.

When this thing with Hotch started, Emily was so afraid of losing what she had with him that she was looking for reasons not to even try. She would have written off their first night together as a mistake and gone back to being friends if he had let her. It would have been easier, safer somehow. No one would get hurt. She would still have Hotch – just as a friend instead of as her boyfriend. He was still her friend, but now he was so much more than that.

They'd been together for almost six months now, and Emily was still afraid that she would do something to mess it up. Before they really got started, she already loved Hotch as a friend, but the love she had for him now was so different. Seeing Hotch, even just hearing his voice, made her feel like she was home. She didn't think she had ever felt like this about anyone before and it scared her. She was better at compartmentalizing her feelings than allowing herself to feel them.

It was funny…over the years, she'd been wined-and-dined, taken out dancing or to a show, but a night in with Hotch was so much more meaningful than a great night out with anyone who came before him. Maybe she was just old now or maybe it was just because it was Hotch. Of course, he had taken her out, but more often than not they stayed in. They had dinner with Jack and spent a quiet night cuddling on the couch in front of the TV. It all felt so normal, so…comfortable. It felt like they were becoming a family.

As she reflected on it, Emily realized that they had sort of skipped right over dating and fallen into acting like an established couple. They already knew each other so well. Did they really need to date? She knew Hotch, and he knew her. He loved her for who she was, scars and all. She couldn't imagine connecting with anyone else on the same level that she connected with Hotch. She couldn't lose him. Not now. If he was feeling disconnected to her, then Emily would give him everything he needed this weekend. She would make sure he knew that she was his and he was hers.

After putting the last of the groceries away, Emily went up a flight of stairs to the second story and found Hotch unpacking his suitcase in the master bedroom. He glanced up at her when she joined him. "I put your suitcase in the closet," he told her.

They both unpacked, hanging their clothes up in the closet. Hotch finished unpacking first and went down to the kitchen to start dinner. Emily wasn't too far behind him.

Hotch was hard at work in the kitchen, following one of Rossi's recipes for a traditional Italian meal. It felt wrong to make anything else. After all, this was Rossi's cabin.

Although Emily suspected that he had, Hotch hadn't actually said anything about his relationship with Emily to Rossi. He didn't kiss and tell. Rossi was just perceptive like that.

After hearing Emily rush Hotch off the phone on more than one occasion while the team was working a particularly disturbing case in LA, Rossi took it upon himself to meddle in their love lives. He'd seen too many relationships break up over the job, including more than one of his own, and he didn't want to see that happen to Hotch and Emily.

It wasn't going to. Hotch wasn't going to walk away from Emily. Not now. Not ever. But he was developing a newfound appreciation for Haley's frustration every time the job took him away from her. He was in the unique position of being able to see both sides to it. He'd been in Emily's shoes. He knew there was no choice, not really. The team got called in, and she had to go. It was the job. He understood that, and he didn't fault her for it. What she was doing was important, and she was good at it. He knew all of that, but that didn't mean he wasn't disappointed every time Emily had to go. He missed her when she was gone.

Haley's entire life had revolved around Hotch and Jack. She loved being a wife and a mother. That was all she ever wanted. Emily wasn't Haley. Emily would never be happy with being a housewife. She had prioritized work over family. She had a career. She was ambitious. She was independent. And Hotch admired her for that, all of it, but he still had to adjust his relationship expectations. He'd never been the one who was, for all intents and purposes, sitting at home, waiting for the phone to ring. Now, he was and, to be honest, he wasn't handling it as well as he thought he would.

Hotch had known from the beginning that Emily was not always going to be available to him but knowing that hadn't prepared him for how he would feel when it happened - and it had been happening a lot lately. More than usual.

For the first time since they'd been together, Emily had been gone for two weeks straight. To make matters worse, during the team's last case in Los Angeles, Hotch and Emily had barely spoken. When they did speak, Hotch felt like Emily was rushing him off the phone.

It was a bad case. He understood that, but that didn't change the fact that he missed Emily and wanted to talk to her. And she should want to talk to him, shouldn't she? He always wanted to talk to Haley and Jack during cases that were getting to him. Somehow, just hearing their voices made him feel better. He wanted to be that person for Emily.

When she was in LA, Hotch got the sense that Emily tried not to think about him or her feelings for him so that she could focus solely on the job. It was as if he was a distraction that she didn't have time for. He knew Emily was good at compartmentalization, but it shouldn't be easy for her to put him – them - on the backburner for a week. Sometimes she acted like she was still single…like she didn't have someone at home, waiting for her. She'd been alone for so long that Hotch often wondered if Emily knew how to be in a relationship.

He was going to make sure she knew that she wasn't alone anymore. He had Emily to himself for the weekend, and Hotch was planning to make full use of their time together.

He glanced up from the stove when he heard her light footsteps on the stairs. "Dinner's almost ready." He was going to ask if she wanted wine, but he lost his train of thought when she came up behind him and wrapped her arms loosely around his waist, leaning in close to peer over his shoulder at the pot he was tending. It was casually intimate. There was nothing overtly sexy about it, but with how close she was standing to him, the last two weeks' worth of need took over and Hotch couldn't think of anything but Emily.

"Fettucine?" Emily hazarded a guess, seemingly unaware of the effect she was having on Hotch. Her mouth was close enough to Hotch's face that he felt the warmth of her breath, just a slight tickle against his cheek, when she spoke.

"Yes," Hotch said, turning to face her. She was so close he could almost taste her. He didn't have to lean in very far to cover her mouth with his own. He was unusually impatient, crushing his lips against hers in a possessive kiss.

Emily responded immediately, opening her mouth in invitation and then tilting her head back when he deepened the kiss. Impossibly long, dark lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes.

He felt her gasp, just a short inhale that was swallowed by his own mouth, greedy on hers. He could understand why she was surprised. Normally he took things slow, but not now. No, now he kissed her fast and hard – harder than ever before. It started out hot and heavy and only progressed from there with his tongue demanding more.

Almost of their own volition, Emily's hands drifted to his hips and gripped them as if to brace herself. It was the feel of her hands on his hips that had Hotch suddenly ending the kiss, leaving Emily confused and breathless. Why did he stop? She looked up at him, her dark eyes clouded with lust. When she looked at him like that, it was all he could do to keep his hands off her. Desire shot straight through him.

"After dinner," he told Emily with more discipline and restraint than he knew he had. If they kept going, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, and they didn't have enough time, not with the fettucine on the stove. "Otherwise, it will burn."

"There's always pizza," Emily said. She wanted him more than she wanted fettucine.

"Emily, we're in a cabin in the woods," Hotch reminded her with a dry expression. "I doubt there's a pizza place that delivers."

Emily watched with no small amount of indignance as he turned back to the stove. One minute he was kissing her senseless and the next he was tending the pot of boiling noodles. She didn't understand. Why did he start something if he wasn't going to finish?

Of course, Hotch had every intention of finishing, but he had enough self-control to finish the task he started before Emily came into the kitchen and distracted him from their dinner preparation with her mere presence.

When they sat down to eat, Emily had to admit that the fettucine was good, but not so good that it was better than sex with Hotch. She was still unhappy at having been left wanting when he was the one who got her going.

Maybe it was because they were both eager to finish what they started or maybe it was the charge of excitement at being somewhere new, but they barely made it up to the bedroom after dinner before they started ripping each other's clothes off, leaving a trail of clothing on their way to the bed. Hotch was kissing Emily again, devouring her mouth with his own.

For some reason, being in Rossi's cabin made Emily feel a little like a teenager in her parents' house. She wasn't a teenager, and Rossi wouldn't be angry if he knew what they were doing in there. Hell, he was the one who orchestrated this whole weekend getaway. But still…Rossi had been somewhat of a father figure to Emily, and it felt to her almost like she was doing something forbidden as she fell into Rossi's bed with Hotch. In a weird way, it was kind of hot.

And then Hotch moved his mouth from hers down the long column of her throat, and Emily wasn't thinking about the owner of the cabin – or the bed - anymore. It was just her and Hotch. It didn't matter whose bed they were in.

Hotch didn't think either of them wanted slow and sensual when they were both already on edge from before, ready to tumble over. It was time to finish what he started in the kitchen.

When his name came from her lips, something desperate in her voice, it just urged him on. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He'd like to see her try to compartmentalize him now.

When they finished, Emily just lay sprawled out on the rumpled bed with a tired, contented sigh. In that moment, she thought she would be happy to spend the entire long weekend in bed.

But, of course, they didn't do that. They walked down to the lake the next morning, enjoying the quiet tranquility of the water. They drove into town, explored a little and had a lunch in what appeared to be the only restaurant in town.

It was, Emily realized sometime after their excursion into town, her first trip with him – if they could even call it a trip when they were still in Virginia. She spent enough time at Hotch's place that they already knew how to live together, but this was different. There was no work to interfere with their time together. No kids. No responsibility. For the first time since they'd been together, it really was just them. It felt like an escape from reality in the best possible way. There was something about the solitude – it was quiet and peaceful.

Emily knew she would have hated it there if she'd gone alone. The quiet would have felt eerie instead of peaceful and having nothing to do would have driven her crazy. Although it still wasn't on her list of places to go, Emily found herself enjoying the cabin more than she ever thought she would – and conscious of the fact that she only enjoyed it because she was with Hotch.

Jack and Hannah both called or texted every day, but other than that, there was no contact from anyone. If anything came up at work, Rossi must have handled it.

On their last night there, Emily surprised Hotch by wearing new lingerie, bought with him in mind during her last shopping trip with JJ, Tara, and Penelope, who had all egged her on – especially Penelope. They were all a little overly invested in their former boss' relationship with their current boss – or boss lady, as Penelope called Emily. The black lacy teddy met with Hotch's approval – not that Emily was going to tell her friends that.

The lingerie didn't stay on for long, but Emily thought it was safe to say that Hotch liked the almost sheer black silk. When Hotch saw Emily standing there in black and nude lace with swatches of black silk that barely covered anything, he swallowed hard.

"See something you like?" Emily teased as his gaze, dark with desire, raked over her.

"You're beautiful," Hotch murmured.

"And you're overdressed," Emily told him before crossing the room, tugging at his t-shirt while he stripped off his own boxer shorts.

"Now who's overdressed?" Hotch countered.

As if to prove this point, he let his fingertips glide down the thin layer of black silk between him and Emily. The combination of the sensation of the smooth silky fabric against her skin and Hotch's touch made Emily shiver in anticipation of what was to come, a shudder running through her body. She was his, willing and eager under his touch. And he knew exactly where to touch her to make her pulse race.

He knew her body like he knew the back of his own hand. He knew every scar. He knew right where she was most sensitive. His lips ghosted over the scarred skin he usually avoided on her chest – he knew that was where Doyle's brand had been, but Emily was never Doyle's. Ian Doyle had Lauren Reynolds, not Emily Prentiss. And Lauren Reynolds was just a shadow of who Emily was. Hotch had all of Emily.

They took their time this time, savoring each other in a way they hadn't the first night there.

When they left the cabin the next morning, Emily and Hotch felt closer than they had before. Emily almost hated to leave, but they both had responsibilities waiting for them in D.C. Emily had to go back to work, and Jack would be coming back from camp. It was time to go back to the real world.