Author's Note: I'm trying to get a few more balls back up into the juggling rotation, so we're finally back here. It's been awhile :)
The Reservations
When Dave got back downstairs, he found Reid sitting at the kitchen counter working on Emily's laptop, and Morgan pacing over in the living room on the phone with, well, someone.
Before he'd had a chance to process who the other man could be speaking with . . . he hadn't heard enough of the conversation . . . Reid looked up at him. His brow was wrinkled in concern.
"How's Emily doing?"
Dave shook his head.
"Bad," he continued on over to the kitchen as he let out a sigh, "but luckily she's sleeping now, and I just convinced Hotch to try and take a nap too."
Then he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and began digging into the back of it as he continued speaking.
"He looked so exhausted I told him that we would take care of booking their hotel and flights for them while they slept."
Finally finding his black card . . . the reason he'd been digging, he rarely used it . . . Dave looked back up and handed it over to Reid.
"Can you take care of the hotel though?" Then he rolled his eyes slightly, "it's just, I'm not that great with the Internet."
Reid's eyes crinkled slightly as he took the card.
"No problem, Dave," he put the card down on the counter, "which hotel?"
Dave rubbed his hand across his face.
"I don't know. Find the best one you can." He gave him a look, "and I do mean best. Get them a suite for at least the next fourteen days, and uh . . ." Dave's jaw twitched back and forth as he tried to think, "oh, international calling. Make sure that's included. Get it all pre-paid so there's no bill. I can get a charge back if they leave early."
That's when Reid's eyes got very wide.
"You know that's going to be really expensive, right?"
"Yeah," Dave patted him on the back, "I know. That's why I gave you the black card, kid."
Huffing out a "got it," the younger man turned back to the computer. Then he frowned as he looked back up, "what about the flights?"
Rossi shook his head, "I have a girl. She does all the travel for my tours, and I've done international signings before so I'll have her take care of it."
Seeing Reid nod then as he started typing away, Dave looked back across the room when he heard Morgan saying goodbye. He raised a quizzical eyebrow as the phone snapped shut.
And when he looked over, Derek answered the unasked question.
"Birmingham Field Office," he sighed, "I finally got through to my buddy, explained what was happening, and asked him if he could go check on Em's grandparents. He's on his way over there now to make sure they're okay."
Then, apparently realizing what he'd said, Derek rolled his eyes.
"Well, obviously they're not okay, but just to make sure that they don't need a doctor. And he's going to try to find a neighbor to sit with them until the family can get there. Unfortunately nobody seems to live close by, but one of Emily's aunts told me that she was going to fly down there later today."
"That's good, Derek," Dave nodded his approval, "that was really good."
"Hmph," was the faintly unintelligible grunt Derek let out as his gaze dropped back down to the phone in his hand.
It wasn't like he deserved praise just for reaching his friend. And he was also thinking back to when his dad was killed, and remembering the neighbors coming to sit with him and his sisters, and how that had made it all the weirder and more surreal. Really, he was just grateful that by the time Emily woke up he should be able to give her some kind of update on her grandparents' situation. The way the whole conversation had played out with them was so awful, and it had happened so fast. It had broken his heart to hear how hysterical she'd been when she'd dropped the phone, but Hotch had handled it really well.
He'd just scooped her up and carried her upstairs.
If it had just been him alone with Emily, Derek didn't know what the hell he would have done, but it probably wouldn't have been that.
Huffing out a breath then, he dropped down onto the couch as Dave came over. He also let out a sigh as he sat down next to him.
"I don't know if you just heard me talking to Reid, but Emily's sleeping, and I convinced Hotch to take a nap too. I told him that we'd take care of their flights and hotel for them."
Derek nodded, "that's good. Is there anything else that needs to be done?"
As he started pulling out of his wallet again, Dave mumbled, "yeah, actually, I want to get them phones that'll work over there." Then he pulled out another credit card, and handed that one over to Derek.
"Do you mind picking up a couple?"
"Of course I'll go get them," Derek started to push back the card, "but I can pay for them."
"Morgan," Dave rolled his eyes as he shoved the piece of plastic back at him, "after ten bestselling novels, I have more money than God. And the only expensive hobby I have is collecting ex-wives, so just take the damn card."
Morgan snorted as he accepted the card and moved to pull out his own wallet, "all right man," he started to stand up, "I'll take the damn card."
From there, Derek headed out and Dave, knowing his call to Strauss was going to require complete privacy, went over into Emily's small dining room.
He shut the door behind him.
Their conversation went about as he'd expected it would. All he had to do was tell her that he was calling in his marker and she sighed and asked what he wanted. So by the time the two of them hung up, Hotch and Emily's names had both been added to the official FBI response team. That was even though, technically, they were both now out on three weeks leave, personal, and bereavement respectively. But Strauss said that adding them to the team was the quickest way to take care of their weapons paperwork, and it would also give them full access to the recovery areas once they'd arrived in Egypt. She even had the presence of mind to ask if Emily needed anything else. Which was an act of kindness that took Dave by surprise, even though it really shouldn't have. Because he knew that Erin wasn't all bad, she just had some major character flaws.
A blinding, soul robbing, desire for personal glory being one of them. But once you got beyond that, she was okay.
Sometimes.
It also helped that Dave knew where all of the woman's skeletons were buried, so he didn't have to put up with any of her crap.
But once that call was done, he called his girl Margie and had Hotch and Emily booked first class out of Dulles for three pm that afternoon. He also bought up the seats immediately around theirs so Emily would have a little privacy. Just on the flights, he dropped about twenty-five grand, but he didn't care. Most of his money was just going to sit in his bank account until he died anyway. Usually in a situation like this people walked around wishing there was something they could do to help.
Well, this was something tangible that Dave actually could do to help, and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
Of course once Aaron and Emily returned and found out he wasn't going to allow them to pay him back for any of it, they'd be bullshit. But . . . he shrugged to himself . . . they'd get over it. And now that all of his calls were done, Dave went back out to the living room. That's where he sat down with Reid to watch the news and wait for it to be time to wake up Hotch.
He was giving him at least another ninety minutes.
/*/*/*/
Emily once again awoke to find herself in Hotch's arms.
But that time she remembered immediately why that was. And even though the horrible ache was still there in her chest, luckily she didn't start crying again. After that last breakdown she thought she might be cried out for a little bit.
She huffed humorlessly to herself . . . as though somehow there was a finite well for grief.
If only that were true.
Well, she'd just take these few minutes now and hope that they lasted long enough to get her through what she needed to do today. And feeling Hotch's warm steady breath on her neck, for a moment she closed her eyes again.
Yesterday their relationship had progressed to regular coffee dates, today he was her conjoined twin. The phrase, 'what a difference a day makes' didn't even begin to cover it. And feeling his arms wrapped tightly around her body, her eyes opened again as she reached down to pick up the hand resting on her stomach.
After she'd pressed a kiss to his palm, she clutched it to her breast and let out a heavy sigh. Once more, all she wanted to do was stay curled up with him, but this time biological imperatives were asserting themselves.
She really had to pee.
So she tried to push the comforter away and slip out of his arms without waking him up. But of course as soon as she dropped her feet to the carpet, she heard Hotch's husky voice from behind her.
"What's the matter?"
When Emily turned back, she gave him a faint smile.
"I have to pee." And seeing him rub his eye before he gave her a drowsy, "okay," she reached out to pat his arm. Then she stood up and headed over to the bathroom.
After she'd shut the door, she went to the sink . . . and immediately cringed when she looked in the mirror.
Her eyes were completely bloodshot, her lids were swollen half shut, her face was all blotchy, and it felt . . . her nose wrinkled as she turned on the faucet . . . sticky.
Uck.
It wasn't until a second later, when she started to splash cold water on her face, that she suddenly flashed on Hotch wiping her down with a cool towel before she cried herself to sleep in his arms.
God . . . her teeth sunk into her lip as she stared over at her reflection while the water still circled down the drain . . . he really was such a sweetie. And he was trying so hard to take care of her. It sucked so much though that it had taken this horrible thing to finally break down the last walls between them. But at least the walls were down now.
Because she knew that she was going to need him to get through this hell.
Feeling her chest begin to tighten again, she quickly let out a harsh breath as she tried to push off that grief beginning to surge. It took a moment, and a few more ragged breaths, but she finally felt her emotions steady again. So she went looking for eye drops.
In the back of the medicine cabinet Emily found a bottle that was just past its expiration date. And after metaphorically crossing her fingers that she wouldn't get pink eye, she tipped her head back to put a couple in. Not so much for the redness, which she knew was probably going to be a constant companion for a few days, but just that they were REALLY dry.
Christ, after all that crying she was probably dehydrated.
So after she'd put the little bottle back on the shelf, she drank a full cup of water. Then she finally peed and washed her hands before splashing even more water on her face. Lastly, she brushed her hair and then her teeth. And after all that was done, she looked back at her reflection.
Better.
Not good, not by any stretch, but better. More importantly though, she physically felt a little better, and that helped her mindset.
Before she left the bathroom, she dug out an extra toothbrush from the bottom drawer of the vanity, and left it on the counter for Hotch. Then she went back into her bedroom, and after pausing for just a brief second to look down at the bed . . . she was trying to figure out if Hotch was awake or not . . . she climbed back under her covers with him like she did it every day of the week.
When she shifted over on the mattress and put her head down on his chest, his eyes were still closed. Immediately though, she felt him stir, and then his arms came up to wrap around her again.
"Do you feel any better?" He mumbled against her hair, clearly half asleep.
With a faint nod, she brushed her cheek against his t-shirt.
"Little bit. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I found some eye drops too. I don't feel quite so yuck now."
Hotch opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times before his gaze shifted down to see Emily looking up at him. He gave her a faint, sleepy, smile.
"You look better."
Then he flicked his eyes over to check the time on her alarm clock . . . almost nine. Apparently Rossi had decided NOT to wake him up at 8:15 like he'd asked.
Pain in the ass.
Though . . . Hotch rolled his eyes to himself . . . he should have expected that too. But as long as the others were able to take care of everything that they'd discussed, he supposed that him over sleeping wasn't actually a problem. Thinking of Dave though did remind him of another point . . . Emily didn't know that he was in her home.
Him or Spencer.
So he rubbed his hand down her back.
"Just so you know, Dave and Spencer are downstairs. They showed up right after you fell asleep," he yawned, "and Dave was taking care of a bunch of the key things that we need to do to travel, otherwise I wouldn't have laid down."
Huffing slightly, Emily pushed herself up so she could look down at him.
"Hotch, you've been taking care of me since two o'clock in the morning, so I don't know why you're trying to justify needing a nap."
At that, Hotch's eyes crinkled slightly and he reached out to squeeze her hand. Emily just stared at him for a moment before she leaned in, tilted her head slightly . . . and kissed him. When she broke away, Hotch was looking at her quizzically, "what was that for?"
She gave him a sad smile.
"My thank you for taking care of me," she brushed her fingers along his cheek, "and for coming with me. I appreciate it more than you can know."
For a moment Hotch just looked at her, then he reached out to tuck her back against his chest. After she'd settled against him, he let out a soft sigh as he pressed his own kiss to the top of her head.
"You don't need to thank me for anything," he whispered against her temple, "remember, you helped me when I needed someone."
Emily cuddled in closer as she whispered back, "Hotch, I took you to Anacostia to play pool. You're about to take me to Egypt."
Feeling him rub his hand along her side just before he murmured, "right, we'll finally be even," she huffed against his throat.
"Okay."
For another minute they just laid there curled together, but then finally Emily let out a heavy sigh as her fingers clenched in his t-shirt.
"I suppose we should get up now."
Even though she was right, Hotch knew that she didn't want to get up yet, because she didn't want to have start dealing with reality again. Who would?
So he just ran his hand down her arm.
"I think we can take a few more minutes." He answered softly. Then he lifted his head slightly to check the clock again. "It's 8:57. I say we can stay here until 9:15."
Emily's eyes started to water, "so I have eighteen minutes."
"Yeah," he pulled her more tightly to his chest, "you have eighteen minutes."
/*/*/*/
At 9:20 Rossi went upstairs to wake Hotch.
When he poked his head around the corner of the open bedroom door though, he was surprised to find Emily alone. And awake. She was going through her dresser.
He knocked on the doorjamb.
"Emily?"
Quickly turning at Dave's greeting, Emily gave him a sad smile, "hi, Dave."
Dave stepped into the room, biting his lip as he looked at her for a second . . . he was trying to size up her state of mind.
"How you doing, honey?" He took a step closer as he added sadly. "I'm so sorry about your mom and dad."
Emily dropped her watering eyes to the carpet for a moment before she swallowed and looked back up.
"Thanks. Um, I'm okay. Well," she blinked away the burning tears, "right now, I'm kind of okay. I can't promise how I'll be in five minutes though, which is why I'm trying to figure out what I need to pack."
His brow wrinkling slightly, Dave's gaze shifted over to the bed where she'd started to throw her socks and underwear. He looked back to her.
"Uh, if it helps," he added then, "Spencer said that the hotel he booked you in has a laundry service so you can get your clothes washed."
With a slow nod Emily turned to look at the items she'd thrown onto the bed.
"Okay, thanks. That is good to know." Then she suddenly smiled, "though my mom always says you can't pack too much clean underwear."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the smile fell away and her eyes started to fill.
At that exact moment the bathroom door opened and Hotch came out directly behind her.
Looking between Emily staring at the floor working her jaw, and Dave standing in front of her with a look of complete panic on his face, Hotch realized that something had just happened.
So he slipped his arm around Emily's waist and pulled her against his side.
It was odd how quickly he'd become accustomed to touching her. Especially given how he'd spent so much of the last two years of his life very specifically, not touching her. And here he was now, doing it in front of other people no less. Well, it was Dave, but that still counted as people.
Then he tipped his head down to press his lips to her ear.
"Are you okay?" He whispered.
Yes, it was a little rude to whisper in front of Rossi, but his concerns here were for Emily, and her well being.
Today, a little rudeness would have to be excused.
After taking a few deep breaths, Emily gave him a slow nod.
"Yeah," she lifted her head to look at him, "Dave was just telling me that the hotel has a laundry service so, um, we don't have to pack as much as I'd thought."
Seeing the tears glistening in her eyes, Hotch decided to respond matter of factly.
"Well, that's good to know," his gaze snapped back over to Rossi's, "thanks, Dave."
Dave looked between the two of them . . . apparently they were pretending she wasn't on the verge of bursting into tears.
All right, he could do that too.
"Uh yeah," he nodded, "laundry, and um, Spencer booked the room for fourteen days." He cleared his throat, "also your flight is at three pm today out of Dulles." He looked down at his watch, "so you have a little over four hours until you need to be at the airport."
Hotch gave him a grateful nod, "good, thanks," he tipped his head, "and what about those other . . ."
But Dave cut him off.
"Those are all set too. You've been approved for three weeks of personal leave effective immediately, Emily's on three weeks bereavement, and you're both now officially on the FBI response team." He gave them a pointed look, "of course you're not working the case, but that will give you full access anywhere you need to go. And that's also what's enabling you to take your weapons on an international flight."
Surprised at everything he'd been able to get accomplish during their very short nap, Emily gave Dave a grateful nod as she wiped at the corner of her eye.
"Wow, thanks for getting all that done, Dave."
The tears were still pooling, and she could feel that she was starting to lose the battle.
He tipped his head.
"It wasn't just me, Spencer helped, and Derek just got back with new cell phones for you both."
Hotch blinked . . . shit, he'd completely forgotten about the cell phones. So he gave Rossi a grateful nod.
"Good catch remembering those, Dave, thanks."
Then he gave the other man a pointed look, gesturing with his head down at Emily.
"We'll be down in a few minutes to get something to eat."
Dave understood the look . . . make sure there was nothing downstairs that was going to upset her. Okay so, television off and hide the paper that Morgan had bought on his way back.
He nodded, "I'll see you guys in a few."
Then he walked out, leaving them alone.
They were quiet for a moment before Emily broke the silence with a faint, "I think clothes for a week should be enough."
Hotch walked her over to the bed and sat down.
"A week sounds about right to me," he murmured back while tugging her down next to him.
Silence reigned for another minute, and then Emily tipped her head over to his chest. As Hotch's arm slid around her shoulders, the tears she'd been fighting finally began to slip over and run down her cheeks.
"I forgot for a minute that my mom was dead," she explained with a crackle in her voice.
"Emily," Hotch slowly exhaled, "that's going to happen." He bit the inside of his cheek, "and it's going to happen for a long time. And I'm not going to tell you that it won't, as you would say, 'suck,' because it will. But it'll also get better . . . eventually."
Given his own experiences dealing with the death of his father, Hotch could at least speak with some authority on this topic.
In the meantime though, he tipped his head down to rest against Emily's as he rubbed his hand down her back.
He gave her a minute of sniffling against his chest before he heard her breathing start to even out.
"Better?" He murmured with a kiss to the top of her head. "Yes," Emily took a breath and scrubbed at her cheek again, "thanks."
A moment later, she cleared her throat . . . her heart still ached . . . and started moving the day forward again.
"You'll need to pack too."
He needed to pack so he could come with her. But packing meant that he needed to leave, and she didn't want him to leave. She was a grown woman. A fucking FBI agent, and the thought of this man leaving her sight for more than two minutes was putting her right on the edge of a panic attack.
Hotch's jaw twisted.
"Yeah," he took a breath, "I was thinking about that while I was brushing my teeth. I have my ready bag in the car, which has suitable clothes to travel, so I thought maybe I could just take a shower here, and then go to my apartment afterwards to get everything else."
His gaze snapped down to hers.
"We could go there together," he raised his eyebrow, "if you want?"
Just like he'd known that she hadn't wanted to get up that morning, he also knew that she didn't want him to leave her alone.
But he didn't want to leave her either.
Not that she wouldn't be in good hands with the other guys on the team . . . at the moment they were about the only people in the world that he WOULD trust to look after her . . . but he'd been holding her in his arms now for almost six hours straight. Absorbing her tears, smelling her skin . . . breathing in the same air. He felt bound to her now.
Responsible for her in ways that he never had before.
And as leaned up to kiss his cheek and whispered a grateful, "yes, I would, thank you," he realized that these new feelings he was having for her, they were ones he actually welcomed. Now wasn't the time to think about that though. Now was just the time to be there for her, so he gave a final pat to Emily's back, before he took a deep breath, and looked around her room.
"You're going to need your big suitcase," he said while standing up with a stretch, "do you know where it is?"
"Um," Emily blinked as she followed Hotch to her feet, "I haven't used it in forever, but I think it's in the closet down the hall."
Just when she finished speaking, her stomach growled, and Hotch huffed slightly.
"Right," he took a breath, "we were supposed to be going down to eat before we dealt with packing. Actually," he continued on with a faint twist of his jaw, "the best use of our time would probably be for you to shower while I dig out your suitcase, and then I can shower while you pack." He looked over at her with a faintly quirked eyebrow, "sound like a plan?"
Given how they were very much navigating (unknown) personal waters here, he was trying to be mindful about coming off too much like SSA Hotchner making their travel plans. At the same time, it was difficult to dampen his alpha tendencies, and with Emily so understandably distracted with her grief, it was kind of necessary for him to take the lead in planning if they were going to make this flight.
Case in point, instead of answering him immediately, he saw her just rubbing her hand over her stomach. Right when he was about to touch her arm, her eyes snapped up to his.
"Yeah," she answered him with a tight nod, "yeah, that'll work."
Then she let out a heavy sigh, and looked towards her open bedroom door.
"Guess it's time to go meet my company."
A/N 2: Hotch's little internal dialogue about why he felt differently now. I do think spending that much time helping somebody you had some intimacy with, process her grief would intensify your level of attachment and affection. And then with Emily, she's so raw emotionally that all of her usual defensive shields are down and she's starting to depend on him in a way that she wouldn't ordinarily let herself do so quickly. That was kind of the trick in getting this story to go down the romance path so quickly when I've already gone out of my way to explain in Girl proper, that in that parallel universe, their feelings were not yet romantic at this calendar point in time.
Okay, so I got most of the practical matters addressed, and I let Dave pay for anything. And really, what's the point of having ridiculous amounts of money if you can't use it to help your family or friends when they're in need? That's what I'd do anyway. But I'm always freaking broke so what the hell do I know :)