A few weeks past and two cases were closed. Now we were in New York to assist on some unusually random shootings.
The interaction between Hotch and Joyner made me uncomfortable. How far did "liaising" go for them at Scotland Yard? It was also a little strange of Hotch to be treating Morgan the way he was through this case. It was obvious that Joyner was involved in the shift in Hotch.

When it started to get too hard for me to control myself, I instead pulled away to focus on working alongside Cooper. I was placed in the field with him, so I would work closely with him and not so much Hotch or Morgan.
I could approach the topic with Hotch after the case had been closed.

When we went back to the hotel and found Will there, JJ announced that she was pregnant. I hugged her tightly, whispering my congratulations. When she went to speak with Hotch a little further away from us, I hugged Will just as tightly.

I put off speaking with Hotch, deciding that waiting until we were home would avoid any more hostility within the team.
Morgan did come to my room and talk to be about how irritated he was with Hotch. I just listened, trying my best to stay neutral in the situation.

Hotch barely reprimanded Morgan for driving an ambulance with an explosive inside. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign; was he avoiding more turmoil between the two or did he just not care?

The flight provided more time to think Hotch's behaviour through and I became increasingly angrier. Why did he and Joyner interact the way they did? Why did he turn on Morgan after a quick word with her? I felt bad about her death and how it may have affected Hotch, but overall, I was angry.

When we exited the plane, I texted him to ask if he was okay and if he needed me tonight. He told me he was fine, and to go home.

When I finally got home, I grabbed a bottle of wine along with a glass and went upstairs. I undressed as I ran the bathtub and poured the wine. I relaxed into the water and heard my phone buzz beside me. I sighed and grabbed it, answering it and holding it to my ear, "Prentiss."

"Joyner was going to lose her post if she failed to close that case, and I was in line to take over. That is why she and Hotch hated me so much." Morgan came right out with it.

I smiled slightly, "It's exciting that you're in line; shows how much the FBI values you."

He sighed, "Hotch wouldn't give them a recommendation."

"Why not?" I sipped my wine.

"He said that I didn't trust people; that he trusted me with his life, and then implied that it wasn't reciprocated."

"Is it?" I questioned.

He paused for a few seconds, "Yes. He's coming back, I've got to go. We're still two hours out."

"Drive safe." I hung up and put my phone back down.

I stayed in the bath until it cooled too much. I finished off the bottle of wine when I sat down with some cheese and crackers. I hadn't eaten in a while but I didn't have a whole lot in the house.
My curiosity got the best of me and I got my laptop out. I web searched Kate Joyner; it put me off how much she looked like Haley. I read some info that I could find, and then I searched her name with Hotch's. Not much came up for that, just both their names mentioned in some records that had been made public.
I knew that I could ask Garcia and she could dig up everything and anything, but I didn't want to bring her into it, mostly because the level of my curiosity would be suspicious. It was the rare times like these where I wished it weren't so complicated and the team knew.

I suddenly questioned if we were doing the right thing. Would this work out? We were both too stubborn, both too wounded, but both totally different people.
Then I wondered what would happen if he ever found out about Ian Doyle. That would be the end of our relationship and my career, I was sure. People who didn't work in deep undercover environments with required romantic interaction would never understand the situation. They simply saw it as an agent sleeping with a criminal, and not an agent trying their best to do their job successfully.
Of course, at some point down the track it wasn't so much "doing my job" anymore as it was getting too comfortable within a relationship that shouldn't have ever honestly appealed to me.

I shook the thoughts of him away and cleaned up the table. I made sure the door was locked, set the alarm, and turned the lights out as I headed upstairs.
As soon as I reached the top of the staircase, I heard a knock on the door. I sighed and went back, turning the light back on. The alarm began to beep quietly; I turned it off quickly before looking through the peep hole. I opened the door reluctantly and looked at him in front of me.

"I know I said I was okay, but can I please stay with you tonight?" Hotch spoke quietly. He sounded almost ashamed to ask. I couldn't be mad anymore when I saw the pain in his eyes. I smiled weakly and stepped to the side, letting him in. "Thank you." He kissed my temple and went in.
I repeated the process of locking up before I headed upstairs behind him.
He showered as I lay in bed and got my book out. I read through two chapters before he joined me in bed. I watched as he reluctantly took his pain killers, giving in to the pain, I assumed.
I lay with my back to him instead of in his arms where I usually settled.

"…Emily?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." I repeated.

"You're mad. I know you're mad."

"It can wait, Hotch," I used his nickname instead of his given name like I usually did when we were alone, "I don't want to upset you, I just want you to feel better."

"I will not be going to sleep until you talk to me." He said stubbornly. He hadn't turned his lamp out and stayed in an upright position.

I sighed and sat up unwillingly. I looked at my hands as I picked at my nails and tried to word what I wanted to ask without being insensitive or upsetting him too much. "Who was she to you?"

"A colleague and a friend." He answered immediately.

I looked at him now, wanting to see how he reacted to my next question, "You never dated her? Never slept with her?"

He let out a breath, "No. I was already married to Haley when we met at Scotland Yard. We kissed once, and I immediately went home and told Haley. Three weeks later I transferred because Haley was uncomfortable."

"…Is there anything you need to tell me?" I knew he would understand what I was asking; had they kissed this time around, or worse? Although I'm not sure where they would have found the time to sleep together.

His eyes never left mine as he replied, "No."

I nodded, reading his honestly in his body language and his eyes. "And the hostility with Morgan; what was that about? The two of you were normal, she asked to talk to you for a few minutes in her office, and suddenly you despise Morgan."

"He was—"

"Next in line for her job. I know," I cut him off, "Why did that mean you needed to be so hostile?"

He seemed to need to think about that, looking in front of him for a few seconds, "Morgan was making suitable suggestions, and I needed him to stop. I needed Kate to bring the case in herself, and I needed to keep Morgan."

"What?"

He sighed, "I didn't want to lose Morgan."

I nodded, a small smile coming to my lips, "Okay…well you need to tell him that. He is furious with you for both your behaviour and for not giving your recommendation. I understand why you didn't give it, and he does too. He needs to know why you turned on him for someone else, because that isn't going to be good for his existing trust in you." He just nodded. "Go to sleep, Aaron." I softened my voice and smiled when he looked at me.
He seemed to hesitate before he kissed me softly, barely even a kiss. He waited to see if I would reciprocate before he kissed me fully.

"As bad and disrespectful to Kate as it is, I am so happy that you weren't the one with me near that SUV." He whispered. I tried to stop the tears from coming to my eyes. He gave me a concerned look, "Emily?"

"I thought you died." I choked out, trying to keep the sob back now. He pulled me into him, holding me tightly. I held onto him as I tried desperately to keep control over my emotions. He kissed my hair and lay down, taking me with him. He hushed me and kissed my hair again as he turned the lamp out.

I felt the urge to tell him that I loved him. I swallowed the words; it was too early for that. I didn't want to scare him away, and I didn't want to be the first to say that. I was sure he wouldn't want me to say it first either.

We returned from Ohio following the Angel Maker case two days ago. Hotch had stretched his drive home out, so the last couple of days were slower considering he wasn't there to demand paperwork. Of course we got it done, but not as quickly as usual.

Tonight, I heard a knock and knew it was him. I smiled and checked the peephole before opening the door, "Hey."

"Hi." He smiled. I stepped to the side to let him in. As soon as I closed the door, he was kissing me. He pressed me into the door as he deepened the kiss. I moaned into him and squeezed his hand while my other hand snaked up to the back of his neck. He pulled away far too soon for my liking, "I missed you."

I smiled again and placed a quick kiss on his lips before pushing off the door and walked further into my apartment, him a step behind me. He put his things down and I got two beers out. "I thought you would have gone to see Jack?"

"I got back earlier today; had Jack for the afternoon. Haley needed him back for a family dinner tonight."

I nodded and he motioned for me to follow him. We sat on the couch and he sat back, taking a sip from his beer. He looked at me and handed me the remote from the table in front of him.
I took it and turned it on, picking a movie on Netflix and laying down across the couch, my head in his lap. He played with my hair mindlessly as we watched the movie. I wasn't concentrating all that much. I wanted to bring up my question of occasional rough sex with him, but I wasn't sure how to approach the subject. I didn't want him to think I was unhappy or dissatisfied. I was more than adequately satisfied; no one had ever made me feel as good as he did.
While he was larger than average, he knew the size wasn't all that mattered. He learnt what I liked quickly and adjusted his performance to ensure I found it enjoyable. It was enough, sometimes I just wanted something a little different to switch things up.
His idea of sex was "love making"; it needed to be gentle and intimate, always. Sometimes after a tough case or even just an argument, it was nice to have something rough and passionate, in a different way.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked me quietly. I looked up at him quickly and saw him watching me. I wondered how long he had been looking at me without me noticing.

I smiled and shook my head, "Nothing."
Maybe it was better I don't bring it up. We hadn't really been together all that long. I didn't want to make things awkward or god forbid make him uncomfortable. What if he thought I was too difficult and decided to stop things before they got too far? What if he decided he didn't want to have sex with me anymore?
I realised that I was probably being silly. We were both mature adults who could have a conversation about our sex life without causing any upset or awkward moments.

After we had our third beers and the movie finished, he asked if I wanted to go to bed. He looked exhausted. I assume he hadn't slept much on his trip home.
I headed upstairs ahead of him. He assured me that he could lock the door, set the alarm, and turn everything off.

I was naked when he entered the room, not having quite gotten to my underwear yet.
He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind me and moved my hair out of the way gently, pressing featherlight kisses down my neck. I closed my eyes and leant back into him. He took the underwear from my hand and threw it back onto the dresser, now kissing across my shoulder.
He kissed back across to my neck, and then the demand left my mouth before I could catch it, "Bite." He paused before he lifted his head to look at me through the mirror. I closed my eyes and shook my head, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
I felt embarrassed now. He clearly wasn't comfortable with that request. I stepped away from him quickly, grabbing my underwear and going through to the ensuite. I closed the door behind me and stood against it.

"Emily, sweetheart, please talk to me." I heard him call. I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. I was overly anxious now; what if he was upset? I took a deep breath before turning back to the door; it wasn't like I could avoid him for the rest of the night.
I opened the door and walked back into the bedroom, my underwear now on. I grabbed a shirt to sleep in and slipped it on, keeping my eyes off the mirror so I wouldn't see him watching me from his seat on the bed.

"I did laundry this afternoon so there is a pile of fresh towels in there if you want to shower." I tried to change the subject.

"So you don't want to talk about how you're not completely satisfied with our sex life?"

I turned around and looked at him directly, "I never said I wasn't. I am, god, I am."

"You just told me to bite you, and the other week you moved my hand to your throat."

I sighed and looked down, "Honey, you make me feel better than anyone else ever has. I love that you're so affectionate and intimate. But sometimes it would be nice to have a rougher side too.
"Sometimes after a rough case or just a shitty day, I don't want to…make love…I just want to be fucked," I bit my lip, "And I don't mean all the time. I don't even mean half the time. Just occasionally, it would be good to switch it up." He seemed uncomfortable. I approached him slowly and stood close in front of him. When he reached out to place his hands on my hips, I took that as an invitation to come closer. I settled on his lap, my legs either side of him. "If you're not comfortable with that at all, that's okay. Just tell me."

I ran my hand through his hair gently and left it resting against his cheek. His hands dropped from my hips to rest on the sides of my thighs. "How far do you want me to go? What do you want me to do?"

I smiled. It was sweet that he was at least considering it. "Whatever your comfortable doing. I'm not saying go full BDSM on me," I shook my head, "But basic stuff."

"Tell me what you want." He held eye contact with me while he ran his hands lightly back and forth on my thighs. I took a breath and tilted my head, smiling. "You can't get shy this far into the conversation. Voice what you want."

"I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable doing…but things like tying me up or cuffing me, pulling my hair, spanking, lightly biting my neck or boobs – enough to leave a mark but not a bruise –, choking…and just overall being a little rougher in your movements." I listed a few things off the top of my head. They were really the things I would want. If he wanted to do more than I'd be okay with accommodating his needs, but by the look on his face I didn't think that would be possible.

There were a few seconds of painful silence. "I don't know…" He finally spoke.

I moved my other hand to cup the other side of his face and kissed him, full but gentle. "Don't think about it tonight. For tonight I want you to take me how you usually do," I took his hand and moved it from my thigh to between my legs, placing his hand over me. He pressed a finger into my clit through my underwear and I jerked slightly, letting out a small moan against his lips. "Tomorrow, you start thinking about it, and you ask me any questions you have, and you let me know how you feel about it. Either way, I am totally and completely happy and satisfied with our sex life." I assured as I moved my hand to grab him through his boxer briefs.

I reminded myself to be vocal tonight; I needed him to know that I really was completely happy with this, with or without the rough nights.