Author's Note: Sorry for the huge posting gaps pretty much everywhere. Super busy at work, but I've been on vacation this week (it's my birthday!) and this weekend I plan on updating everything I can find in the files :)

Here, we're skipping over Week 12 of the pregnancy and popping right to Week 13. The reasons for that will become more evident as you read the chapter, but essentially there is much angsting for both Hotch and Emily (separate particular problems), and I wanted them to be a bit more solidified as a couple so they'd have one another to lean on.

And as Hotch will tell you at some point in this chapter, it has been 21 days since that morning in Montana when Emily agreed to give them a shot.

Week 13

A House Divided

Emily snorted milk out of her nose as she started to laugh.

"Dave you're a pig!"

Rossi had just told her a very off color story about his first undercover assignment as a rookie. It was in a brothel. Or at least according to him it was in a brothel.

For all she knew he could have made the whole thing up.

Watching Emily chortle milk resulted in a guffaw from Dave. Then he watched her rub her nose and hiss, "gah! Stupid milk burns." So he quickly passed her a napkin while she shot him a mock glare.

"I'm telling Hotch that you injured me."

Rossi smirked, "hey, I was only told to get you out of the office. I was not warned that you had a," he gestured to the milk stain she was now scrubbing off of her blazer, "drinking problem."

Emily rolled her eyes as she turned back to the stain on her jacket.

Hotch's mom had taken a bad fall a couple days ago and he'd flown down to Charleston yesterday to see her. Emily knew that Rossi was on strict instructions from their boss/her boyfriend to make sure that she took at least two breaks a day. So to that end, the last two days had seen Dave taking her out for both her morning cup of half caf, and treating her to lunch as well.

Lunch with Dave was a very different experience than lunch with Hotch.

Not that she wasn't having a good time with Dave. She absolutely was. But she was pretty sure that Hotch wouldn't approve of the stories that his old friend was telling her. And she'd come to that conclusion because probably half of them had concluded with her either calling Dave a pig, or throwing something at his head.

Though she had to hand it to him, the man could duck. But that was probably due to years of practice with all of those ex-wives.

Still . . . she shot him a quick grin . . . she appreciated what he was doing, trying to keep her distracted with stories about hookers named Trixie and strippers named Bubbles. All so she wouldn't miss Hotch while he was out of town.

It was actually really sweet. In Dave's own warped, sick, 'quite obvious why he's been divorced three times,' kind of way.

But he was keeping her distracted, and he did make her laugh. As evidence, her mouth started to quiver again as she heard his newest question.

"I am NOT telling you if Hotch likes to cuddle!" She huffed back while balling up her dirty napkin and throwing it at his head.

God, what was WRONG with the man?! Did he have a death wish?!

Rossi deftly avoided the paper projectile while continuing to eye her over his cup of coffee.

"So that's a yes?" He asked mischievously.

Hotch had just told him not to ask any questions about the ex-boyfriend. At no point did Hotch specifically tell him not to ask any questions about him.

Feeling her cheeks start to burn, Emily shot Dave a Hotch worthy glare.

"You do know that if I tell him you asked me that question, he's going to kill you?"

Dave chuckled as he put his coffee back down on the table.

"It wasn't a sex question. He'd kill me for a sex question. That was just a general 'none of my business but I figured what the hell I'll ask anyway' question. And I have already deduced from that lovely shade of pink you turned a moment ago that the answer is indeed," he smirked, "yes."

It was fun teasing Emily. The poor kid had obviously been having a hard time of it these past few months. Dave had noticed something had been off with her and now he knew what it was. Or at least he knew part of what it was. Clearly there was more to the story than she or Hotch had told him.

But her mood had definitely turned around over the past few weeks, which was clearly around the time when she and Hotch had gotten together personally. It was just nice now to see her in genuinely good spirits.

Hotch too.

Dave would say it was like the old days, but it seemed like the team always had some sort of drama or crisis going on, so he couldn't really say the last time the whole crew really seemed happy.

When Dave had calculated back on Emily's due date he'd realized the connection with those weeks he'd noticed her looking pale and tired. For a while he was convinced she was ill, but then she'd started to look better so he'd chalked it up to a late winter cold. As it turned out, from what she'd told him at lunch yesterday, those were the early days of her pregnancy when she was cutting back on her caffeine and figuring out how not to throw up five times a day.

He was kind of glad the other two had opted not to pull him into the loop until the vomiting stage was over. And now Emily was smirking at him.

"Shows what you know, big shot profiler. That's just my new 'pregnancy glow.'"

It was a rather pathetic attempt at misdirection, but still, it was worth a shot. She doubted Dave would fall for it, but if Hotch ever found out that she'd accidentally told the other man that he liked to cuddle, well . . . that would be bad.

So bad.

Dave snorted.

"I'm about as likely to believe that, as you are to believe that my beer gut is in fact my own upcoming bundle of joy."

As hard as she tried to keep glaring at him, Emily's mouth started to twitch and then she let out a snort of laughter.

"You are ridiculous, Dave!"

Rossi leaned over the table.

"You know what else is ridiculous?" He started off with a mock conspiratorial tone. But suddenly he was cut off by somebody tapping on the glass. Both Emily and Dave turned to see Morgan on the other side of the window, waving at them.

The smile on Emily's face froze . . . and she knew it immediately morphed into something not so pretty, because Morgan's own smile fell away completely. Then Dave shot her an odd look before he raised his hand to Derek.

Morgan stared at the two of them for a moment before he tipped his head once and went on his way.

Rossi threw twenty bucks down onto the table as he looked over at Emily in confusion.

"What the hell was that look between you two? You would have thought he was your husband, and you'd just been caught having an affair with the pool boy."

With a hard swallow, Emily stared down at the speckled linoleum tabletop, debating as to whether she should just tell Dave the problem.

Oh . . . she scrubbed her hand over her mouth . . . what the hell. He was already in the loop on her other two secrets, might as well take advantage of having another person's take on her dilemma.

Not to mention, Dave had been around the block so many times that maybe he'd actually have an idea to help her fix things.

So she leaned forward slightly.

"I've been avoiding him since I found out I was pregnant," she whispered across the table, "he never liked," she sighed, "well Morgan never likes ANY of my boyfriends. And I certainly didn't want to tell him about . . ."

And she stopped, realizing she was about to start talking about something she didn't walk to talk about.

So with a quick shake of her head, she continued on.

"Doesn't matter. The point is I didn't want to tell him about the baby at first for one reason, and then I started lying to him about why I couldn't go out after work or on the weekends," she sighed again, "and now I've been lying to him for so long, that things have gotten all weird. And I don't know how to make it right. Especially given that Hotch and I are together now," she rolled her eyes in exasperation, "and I'm quite sure Morgan isn't going to approve ofthateither. Like I said," she scowled, "he's never approved of any of my boyfriends."

It was kind of like having a slightly annoying big brother. Or at least she thought it was, but it wasn't like she'd ever had a brother. Big or little. Either way, the bottom-line with Derek was that he was very over protective. Sometimes she thought it was sweet, and sometimes it seriously pissed her off, but in the end, she always knew that he meant well. But knowing his reaction to the men in her past, was not in any way an endorsement for telling him what was going on in her life now.

It was the exact opposite really.

Still, that didn't stop her from looking over at Dave hopefully.

"I don't suppose you have any suggestions on what I should do?"

Rossi stared at Emily for a moment. Trying to decide if he should tell her what had been obvious to him since Christmas.

Morgan had fallen in love with her.

All of the blustering about the men in her life, watching her when she slept on the plane. The way he teased her, how cranky he'd become when Hotch started to pair off with her. To Dave it was obvious what was going on . . . but it was clear that Emily didn't seem to have a clue about it.

Though as he'd recently discovered, she did have quite a few distractions these past couple of months. And before that she would have actually been going out with the jackass who got her pregnant, so it would be pretty understandable if the thing with Morgan had gone right over her head.

But now Dave was starting to wonder if Hotch had noticed the change in Morgan's behavior either, because it seemed like he would have told Emily if he had.

They were a couple now, and couples discussed things.

Though as Dave thought about it, he realized that it was possible Hotch hadn't picked up on it either. He had sort of closed himself off from the others during the separation and divorce. In fact, he'd only really started to come out of his shell the past few months.

The same window when he and Emily had started spending time together.

And apparently, as Dave had just discovered, when she had started avoiding Morgan. So yeah, now Dave was pretty sure that neither Hotch nor Emily realized how big their problem was here. And Dave sure as HELL wasn't going to be the one to break it to them. At least not to Emily, she didn't need any more stress. It wasn't good for the baby, but he knew that they did still need to be clued in before this whole thing became an even bigger mess.

Eh . . . Dave huffed to himself . . . maybe he'd tell Hotch when he got home. But at the moment, he still needed to answer the woman in front of him. So he just gave her a sad smile as he shook his head.

"Sorry, honey," he began sliding out of the booth, "I don't have any suggestions for you on that one."

Emily sighed as she too stood and they started towards the door.

"It was too much to hope for," she looked over at him with a faint smile, "thanks for lunch though."

Dave's lip quirked up.

"Anytime, Em," he answered as he put his arm around her shoulders and started walking them out, "anytime."

/*/*/*/

"Em, hold up."

Emily had just hit the locks for her car, but hearing's Morgan's voice behind her, she froze . . . shit! As she turned back to him, she looked over with what she hoped (this time) was a nice smile.

"What's up, Morgan?"

After what had happened at lunch today it probably shouldn't have surprised her that he'd come after her. Though she was really hoping that he wanted to ask her something about work, she knew that was just foolishness.

She had become so uncomfortable around Derek lately that she was basically avoiding him all the time. And she knew it was starting to bleed into their interactions at the office.

The whole thing was just so stupid!

She'd had her reasons for keeping her situation from him in the beginning, but now that she'd waited so long, and so many things had happened with Hotch, she was pretty sure that if she came out and just told Derek today, it would completely blow up in her face.

Morgan jogged the last few yards across the parking garage, stopping a few feet away from where Emily was standing by her car, with her keys clutched tightly in her hand.

For a moment he just stared at her, seeing her tight smile and registering her clear discomfort at being caught alone with him. His heart clenched as he looked around to make sure that they were alone.

"Girl, did I do something?" He asked with a tone approaching a quiet desperation, "because I don't understand why you've been acting like I've got the frigging plague."

She'd been avoiding him for weeks. Really, if he was honest with himself, it had been months. At first though, he'd thought she was just genuinely busy. But then he'd hear her talking to Reid about a documentary that she'd watched or an article she'd read. And then two weeks ago it was her and JJ on the plane talking about going shoe shopping with Baby Girl the week before. So clearly she wasn't that busy.

And she was still acting normally with the others.

Then Derek had started to realize that even though Emily no longer had any time for him, she always had time for Hotch. They'd been pairing off almost exclusively. And Hotch had even taken her on two major interviews in the past month. Even though the second one . . . the overnight one, he thought with a grunt . . . that one should have been Reid.

It had been his turn.

But Morgan had tried to brush off those little creeping tendrils of jealousy by reminding himself that Hotch was the boss. If the boss had wanted to take Emily with him on those interviews then he must have had a good reason. And the fact that the two of them had been spending so many of their breaks together lately, well, if the boss wanted to talk to you, then you talked.

So after the three weeks of driving himself crazy thinking that they were having an affair, Morgan had pretty much gotten his wild imagination under control. Convincing himself that there was nothing going on between the two of them.

Because Hotch wouldn't date someone on his team.

Their boss was a stickler for the rules, and he would never commit such a blatant violation of the anti-fraternization policy. But because he was such a stickler . . . because Morgan was sure of Hotch's complete intolerance for inter-team romances . . . that was why Derek had kept his growing feelings for Emily, to himself.

Not only was the fraternization against the rules, but as an aside, Morgan had also felt that his friendship with Emily was too important to risk screwing up. Next to Baby Girl, Emily was the only other close, healthy, adult relationship that Morgan had with a member of the opposite sex. But then all of a sudden . . . that relationship with Emily was gone.

Taken away.

She'd stopped talking to him. Stopped spending time with him. She'd made up ridiculously transparent excuses for why they couldn't even have dinner together.

Hell they barely even WORKED TOGETHER anymore!

For the past few months, Hotch had been pairing him off with JJ or Reid, and Emily off with himself or, the last few weeks, Rossi. Not once had Morgan conducted an interview with Emily since the cherry blossoms had bloomed.

And Derek had started to wonder if maybe that wasn't an accident. Maybe Emily had asked Hotch to separate them.

But for the life of him he couldn't figure out WHY!

But he kept telling himself that there had to be a good reason for her treating him like this. Because Emily wasn't mean spirited by nature . . . she was a sweetheart. So he must have said something, or done something, that had really upset her!

Maybe his teasing, or his comments about her dating habits, had just gone too far. They'd gone too far and he hadn't even realized it.

So he had been trying to give her space. To not pressure her anymore. Every couple of weeks though, he'd forget. And he'd fall back on the old days and he'd ask her out again. And again she'd say, "sorry, no, I have to . . ."

It didn't matter what she said after that . . . he always knew the rest of the sentence was a lie. Still, he'd been letting it go.

But the last straw had been when he'd seen her out with Rossi getting lunch.

That afternoon Derek had been walking past the diner a few blocks over from the Academy, and he'd seen them through the window . . . they were laughing.

She was laughing.

And she'd looked so happy that he'd thought it was a perfect moment to maybe try again. So he'd knocked on the glass . . . and waved. But when she'd looked over and saw him, she froze. Then he'd gotten the same tight, awkward, smile he was getting right now. He'd felt a stab in his gut then. Because it had become painfully clear that whatever was going on . . . it wasn't going to just go away on its own.

And now that he'd come out and simply asked her point blank, she was staring at him like a deer in headlights. The seconds had been ticking by them while he watched her jaw open and close. Once . . . twice.

But still no sound came out.

Emily was in a blind panic. Even though she'd known that eventually Derek would come straight out and ask her what was going on, she'd become so adept at avoiding spending time alone with him, that somehow she'd thought she could push that conversation off for another couple months. Until it was time to tell everyone anyway.

Then all the chips would fall at once.

So she sure as hell wasn't ready to talk NOW! Now in the middle of the freaking parking garage! She didn't have a clue what to say. And oh God . . . she did NOT want to lie to him again!

Twice she opened her mouth to answer him . . . but no words would come. And she could see the pain and confusion on his face, and she felt terrible, but she didn't know what to do. She'd never felt so paralyzed with indecision. Her options were to hurt him with her silence . . . or to hurt him with her words.

What kind of choice was that?!

As they stood there in the parking garage, inches apart, they might as well have been on opposite sides of the planet. Part of her wanted to just blurt it all out, like ripping off a band aid, and then they would only have to deal with the pain once. And she was so tempted to just throw down all of her cards and be done with it.

'I'm pregnant with my shit ex-boyfriend's baby. He's married by the way, turns out he's kind of violent too. Oh yeah, and his wife works here. And now I'm involved with our boss. You know the recently divorced, very scary man who reamed you out for ten minutes on Monday for coming in late to the briefing. And you looked so hurt that he did it in front of everyone because it was only two minutes and you didn't know why he was so upset that you to run to the bathroom.

But what you didn't know was that he hated himself for snapping at you, and he wanted to apologize, but he couldn't. Because then he would have had to tell you something about his personal life. That he was worried and distracted because his mom had wandered away from her nursing home and had fallen and broken her hip. He was upset about that, and feeling guilty that he wasn't there, and feeling worse that he didn't even have the time to fly down to see her when it happened.

So rather than bottling it all up like he usually does, he took all of that out on you.

And he doesn't know how to fix that . . . just like I don't know how to fix this.'

She heard it all so clearly in her head . . . and wanted so badly to open her mouth . . . but still she stood there like a fool.

'JUST SAY SOMETHING!' She screamed to herself.

Her free hand clenched into a fist and she cleared her throat.

"Morgan I . . . I . . ."

And then she took the coward's way out and lied again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The words came out smooth, like silk. But the moment they left her mouth, she knew it was the worst possible thing that she could have said.

Morgan had always been an open book to her, and she could see the flash of pain on his face right before he looked down. When he looked back up his eyes were glistening. And when he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"You know Emily, I had thought we were friends. Partners. But it's obvious that I've done something to upset you, and I'd think that if our friendship meant anything to you at all, that you'd tell me what was wrong so we could work it out. But obviously . . ."

Feeling the tears starting to pool in her own eyes, Emily cut him off.

"We are friends Morgan," she insisted, "we ARE!"

Then in her desperation to try and make amends for her last mistake, she reached over and grabbed his arm . . . and fucked things up even worse.

"You're my best, friend!"

Her voice caught on the last word . . . and it was obvious that it was just another lie. Because Morgan wasn't her best friend anymore.

Hotch was.

And the part of her brain that loved Derek and wanted to stop lying to him . . . betrayed her. And her thoughtless words . . . said with only the best of intentions . . . were just a mockery of their prior relationship. For over two years he had been one of her closest confidantes. He was the first one to befriend her, to make her feel like part of their team.

Their family.

Even before Hotch had trusted her to watch his back, Derek had called Emily his partner. And she'd repaid those kindnesses by treating him like shit for months.

What a bitch.

And her heart broke just a little more when she saw him flinch and jerk his arm away from her. Then he put his hand up and closed his eyes.

"Please, don't," he shook his head, "just . . . don't."

God, why did he decide to confront her about this at work?! Anyone could walk past and see him about to start bawling!

Why did it feel like he was breaking up with a woman he wasn't even dating?!

Feeling the anger begin to rise up, Morgan swallowed over the lump in his throat.

"I can't believe that after all these weeks of avoiding me, and lying to me, that you're going to stand there and pretend that we're still," he mimed air quotes as he said scornfully, "best friends," he scowled, "whatever the hell that means."

As he saw the tears starting to run down her face, he ignored the pain they caused him and kept right on going. Because he was hurt, and pissed off, and he had something to say.

"You took away your friendship without apparently even one thought as to how that might make me feel."

Seeing that Emily was about to open her mouth, he shook his head angrily.

"No, Em, you didn't want to talk before, so now I get to instead. I get to say my piece and you just listen."

Emily choked back a sob as she nodded, "okay."

As angry as he was, Derek still couldn't stand to see her cry, so he had to look slightly past her as he continued.

"If you were acting strangely with everyone it would be one thing, but it's obvious that it's just me you're having a problem with. And if you can't even be honest enough, scratch that, you don't even CARE enough, to tell me that to my face, then, well," his eyes filled as his voice thickened, "I don't know where that leaves us."

Knowing that the God damn tears were going to start leaking in a second, Morgan didn't even give her a chance to respond as he quickly turned and jogged back towards the staircase.

He'd be damned if he got caught CRYING on the security cameras!

Emily's voice broke as she called after him.

"Derek, please . . . wait! I'm sorry!"

Oh Christ . . . she wiped her hand across her face . . . now she'd COMPLETELY fucked things up! And she almost went after him, but she still didn't know what the hell to say. It was obvious how much she'd genuinely hurt him. And running up to tell him that she'd actually been lying to him for going on four months about practically EVERYTHING in her life, was that going to make things better?

No.

It was just going to make them worse. Though at this point she almost wasn't even sure how that was possible. Even if she could find the right words, she didn't know if things could be fixed.

Her relationship with Morgan might be damaged beyond repair.

And as she stood there, hating herself for the mess that she'd caused, all she wanted was Hotch. But he wouldn't be home until later that night.

Stifling a sob that was bubbling up, Emily wiped her hand across her face as she let herself into her car. After she'd locked the doors she pulled out her cell phone.

She stared at it.

In that moment she missed Hotch so much that her chest ached. It was almost impossible to believe that they'd only begun their relationship a few weeks earlier.

How had she ever gotten by without him?!

So with the tears still sliding down her face, she hit his name on the speed dial and put the phone to her ear.

It rang once . . . and then the call dropped. She tried again and the same thing happened.

She started to cry harder.

God DAMN it! Was it so much to ask the fates for thirty seconds of comfort from her boyfriend?!

No sooner had the thought come to her, than the phone began to vibrate in Emily's hand. Through her tears, she saw "Hotch" flashing on the screen.

Thank God!

She pressed the button, and with a little sob cried into the phone.

"I miss you!"

Hearing the tears in Emily's voice, Hotch stopped short in the middle of the corridor.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?!" He asked worriedly.

A few seconds ago he'd been walking through the airport when he'd apparently hit a small dead zone for cell service. But when he'd seen the missed call pop up from Emily, he'd immediately tried her back, assuming she wanted to confirm what time he was landing. That morning he'd talked to her when she went for coffee and everything was fine then. She'd said Dave was taking her out to lunch and Hotch had told her he'd call when he got into Dulles.

But obviously now something else had happened.

Emily sniffled.

"I just had an awful fight with Morgan. And Aaron, I hurt him so much, and I don't know what to do! I've been lying to him for so long and then I said something really stupid today and now I've made it ten times worse," her voice crackled, "and I wish you were home because I miss you and I want a hug."

Hotch winced at the pain in her voice. Then he moved out of the pedestrian area and over to the wall of the corridor as he whispered back.

"I miss you too, sweetheart, and I'll be home soon. My flight's boarding in a few minutes and we land at 7:35. I was going to go straight to my place, but if you want I can come over tonight."

He'd had such a shitty day that if she hadn't called him he probably would have asked if he could come over tonight anyway.

She bit her lip and sniffled again.

"Yeah, if you don't mind I really would like to see you," then she started to feel like she was looking a little clingy, "I mean, I know you've only been gone a day, but . . ."

"But what?" Hotch cut her off gently. "Didn't Reid just teach us last month that a day is the entire life cycle of a May Fly?" His eyes crinkled as he added softly, "a day's an eternity."

He really had missed her. And he knew that was pathetic, but he didn't realize how just seeing her made a difference in his mental state. Even when they couldn't spend time together after work, at least they had those few hours during the day.

And on the weekends he had Jack to lift his spirits.

But not seeing either of them at all, especially when he was stressed out dealing with his mother's situation. Once he'd realized how much worse her dementia was . . . he'd just wanted Emily there with him.

Four years ago his mother had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's and she'd moved in with one of her widowed sisters. It had only been a temporary fix to the problem because a year later he'd had to put her in a rest home.

He'd hated himself for it, but there had no longer been any way to keep her safe outside of a locked facility. She'd started to wander off from his aunt's house, getting lost for hours until the police would find her dazed on the side of the road. And even though Hotch had wanted to bring her up to Virginia so he could see her more often, she'd still had good days. And she'd had enough of her faculties left to be clear about her wishes.

Charleston was her home, and that's where she'd wanted to stay.

So Hotch had respected that, and found her the best facility he could down there. It was a nice place, and her two sisters both visited almost every day. So even after it got to the point that his mother wouldn't have been aware that he'd moved her, he had decided to leave her in South Carolina. Realizing that not only was the routine she had important to her well being, but also that there was no way that he could get over to see her as often as his aunts were now. Christ, he was lucky if he was home every weekend for visitation with his son. Given the hours that he worked, adding a daily visit to a nursing home would have been impossible.

Up here he would have neglecting her, but down there she still had family with her almost every day. She was better off in Charleston.

At least that's what he told himself each month as he guiltily wrote the check to Rolling Hills.

Emily's eyes started to burn again as she smiled softly.

"That's what I was thinking too."

Even though it had only been a few weeks since they'd gotten together, she was starting to depend on Hotch emotionally in a way that she hadn't depended on anyone before. He made her happy. It was as simple as that.

Hotch just made her feel happy.

He was considerate and thoughtful, and he did sweet things for her. Getting the ginger ale for her in the morning, making her dinner when they got home, getting up early to make her breakfast . . . rubbing her feet. And when he had to go into work before her, she always woke up to find a note on her pillow that brought tears to her eyes.

Without a doubt, he was the best boyfriend that she'd ever had. The best boyfriend she could ever imagine having. He'd only been gone thirty-six hours and she'd missed him like he'd been gone a month.

And that terrified her.

These were not feelings she was used to having for anyone. She was used to being independent, not leaning on anyone too much. Certainly not a man. That was due to years of having the rug pulled out from under her time and again.

Thinking that finally this relationship might last, only to discover that the guy was really a jerk.

And some part of her was still waiting for that moment with Hotch. That moment when he would tell her that he was coming over that night . . . but then he wouldn't show up for three days. Or he'd pick a fight over something stupid just so he could yell at her, or she'd find a pair of women's underwear in his backseat that didn't belong to her. Of course she knew that he would never do any of those things. But she couldn't make that little voice in the back of her head . . . self preservation . . . believe what her heart already knew.

He was a good man.

Hearing his flight being called, Hotch's ears perked up. Then he started walking towards his gate again.

"Sweetheart, they're calling my flight now so I'm going to have to run in a second, but I'll see you in a couple hours. You go home and take a nap and I'll be there before you know it," his lip quirked up slightly as he thought of something that might cheer her up, "and I don't know if you found it yet, but last week I put a treat for you in the back of the freezer."

Feeling some of her sadness start to fade, Emily smiled softly as she wiped the last of the tears off of her face before slipping the key into the ignition.

"What is it?"

Hotch smiled, "dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets."

When he was shopping for his weekend with Jack, he'd remembered what she'd said their first night and he'd decided to get an extra bag for Emily.

She chuckled softly, "thanks, hon," she sniffed, "I'll save you some."

Huffing slightly, Hotch shifted his bag as he started walking more quickly towards his gate.

"That's okay. I'll just have my granola bar on the plane."

With a faint scowl, Emily switched her phone to her ear as she pulled out of her parking spot.

"Aaron, you're not going to eat a granola bar for dinner. That's probably all you've eaten for the last twenty four hours, coffee and granola bars. You're going to get sick. If you're landing by 7:30 then I'll just wait and have dinner with you."

Hearing his intake of breath, her lips twitched slightly.

"And you can holster that eyebrow mister, I promise not to go hungry. I'll have some fruit salad when I get home."

Hotch's eyebrow slowly lowered back down as a shadow of a smile crossed his face . . . she was definitely able to read him now.

"As long as you promise to eat, then okay. I'll call you when I land."

Her eyes crinkled, "okay, you have a safe flight."

Seeing the rapidly emptying boarding area up ahead, Hotch broke into a jog. That's all he needed to do, actually miss his flight. He quickly wrapped up their conversation.

"Thanks, I have to run now sweetheart. I'll see you in a bit," and he snapped his cell shut, sprinting the last ten yards.

Emily pulled the buzzing phone away from her ear and dropped it down onto the seat beside her. Her eyes shifted over to the dashboard clock.

5:19

Okay, barring traffic, she'd be home in twenty minutes, have a little bowl of fruit salad and a quick nap. She patted her growing bump . . . the morning sickness had finally gone, but Baby did still sap a lot of her energy. But today she figured she just needed to lie down because of all the crying.

And after she got up . . . her eyes crinkled slightly . . . she'd make a special dinner for her man.

/*/*/*/

Emily opened the front door with a smile.

"Hi," she leaned up on her tiptoes to give Hotch a kiss before she wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed in relief, "I'm so happy to see you."

Hotch pulled Emily up off the ground, his arms tight when he turned his face into her hair.

"I'm so happy to see you too," he whispered back.

Then, still holding her close, he took two steps inside the door before pushing it shut with his foot. Only then did he lower her back down. With a faint smile, he tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I missed you, as Jack would say, 'whole bunches.'"

Emily chuckled as he dropped his bag on the ground before hitting the deadbolt and turning back to her.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him with a sad smile.

"I missed you whole bunches too."

Hotch's expression softened as he kissed her again.

"Well," he murmured against her lips, "I'm home now."

One of his hands came down to slide between them and his fingers ghosted over the bump under her tank top.

It was silly, but that contact was his way of letting Baby know that he was there.

The more weeks that passed with them now as a couple, the more he found himself touching her stomach as soon as they were alone together. It was the moment he remembered that he used to do that when Haley was pregnant with Jack, that he'd realized he'd probably reached the point of no return.

He had bonded with her unborn child.

And really, why wouldn't he? About the only part of Baby's short time on the planet that he hadn't been there for was conception. As far as he was concerned that was a minor quibble, because he was starting to think of Baby as his child too.

But it was much too soon for that. Lightyears too soon for that! So he certainly hadn't said anything to Emily about it. It would add a layer of pressure to their relationship that he didn't want there. Their arrangement . . . their rules, they were working for them. They hadn't had a case that had lasted longer than a day and a half, so for the past three weeks they'd been able to see each other after work at least three days a week.

And he had been staying over each of those nights.

Things had been going really well, and he didn't want to do anything to mess that up. Cuddling and kissing had not yet led to anything else. And honestly, he didn't want it to . . . not right now.

They'd made this little bubble for themselves, and he was afraid that if they introduced any new element to the relationship that the bubble would burst and they'd have to start over. And God knew that sex, or making some stupidly premature declaration that he was starting to feel like Baby was his child too, well, those were two major things that could easily screw up what they were building.

He wrapped Emily up tightly in his arms . . . and he was not about to do anything to screw this up.

Emily closed her eyes and slowly inhaled, just enjoying the sensation of having Hotch's arms around her again. But that brief respite from her miserable afternoon only lasted a moment before she remembered why it was he had been away to begin with. She looked up at him with concern.

"How's your mom?"

Hotch flinched at the question . . . back to that horror show.

"Not . . . good," he cleared his throat, looking away before he added softly, "she didn't recognize me."

That was the short version. In actuality, yesterday he'd walked into her room and she'd thought he was his father. And she'd started screaming at him for being a drunken louse and a womanizer.

Asking him how his whores were.

The nurse had had to sedate her she was so upset. And as much as he'd wanted to just leave, he couldn't do that. He hardly ever saw her, and she was physically hurt, and not in her right mind. So even though she was unconscious for the rest of the day, he'd stayed and sat by her bed, just reading his files. Hoping that maybe when she woke up she would be his mom again.

No such luck.

Today she'd just cried and told him that he was dead, so what was he doing sitting in that chair.

It was an awful trip.

But he wasn't ready to tell Emily all of that. It would involve too much disclosure about his past. His life growing up in that horrible house.

Hopefully someday they could have that conversation though. Hopefully someday they could have a lot of conversations that they were putting off for now.

Feeling a wave of sympathy, Emily reached up, cupping his jaw as she looked at him sadly.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry."

She had so many problems with her own mother, but being with Hotch was starting to at least make her realize she should be grateful that both of her parents were alive and in good health. Perhaps there was still time to fix their relationship.

The time to fix things for Hotch had passed years ago.

Hotch's dad had died of cancer when he was a teenager, and his mom, Emily had just learned this week, she had Alzheimer's and Hotch had to put her in a care facility three years ago.

As bad as things had often been with her parents over the years, Emily couldn't imagine just not having them around anymore. Or having them be there but no longer themselves.

It would be a nightmare.

Emily walked Hotch over to the couch and after he'd sat down, she climbed into his lap. As his arms slipped around her, she tucked his head down to her breast and kissed his temple.

Even if he wouldn't actually say the words, she could tell how sad he was about his mom.

Even though he was very good about sharing his feelings with her as far as they related to his actualaffectionfor her, when it came to opening up in other ways, he was still very much the Hotch that she'd known from the beginning.

Bottle it up, shove it away, and pretend it's not a problem.

Hell, she was the queen of that psychological philosophy so it wasn't like she could really criticize that strongly. Not that she'd criticize him at all for something like this. People shared when they were ready to share.

You couldn't push.

And he actually was getting better, like the thing with Morgan this week. That night Hotch had told her that he'd picked up his phone three times to call Derek up to his office to apologize, but he just couldn't do it. He didn't want to talk about his mom's situation. And if he didn't tell him what the problem was, how serious it was, then how was Morgan supposed to understand why he was so upset?

Hotch telling her something like that was progress, huge progress really, but thinking about Morgan now started to force her own sadness to bubble up once more. She tried to push that back down though, they could talk later about her problems.

Right now she was trying to just be there for Hotch.

If this relationship was going to work, it needed to be mutually supportive. So for a few minutes they sat in silence. Her rubbing his back, his warm breath tickling the bare skin of her breast. And then she felt him press his lips to her throat, working upwards with soft warm kisses the same way that he had the first night in her apartment.

But this time he didn't stop when he reached her mouth.

Kissing had been on the agenda for a few weeks now, and they were getting pretty damn good at it if she did say so herself. Case in point, she moaned softly as Hotch's tongue swept into her mouth and started its now regular exploration.

The exploration that made her toes tingle.

Her fingers dug into his scalp, clutching tufts of his hair as she held him close. And when he started to pull away, she leaned forward to snatch one more kiss before she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him again.

"Feel better?" She whispered in his ear.

Hotch nodded, nestling his head in the nape of her neck.

"I do," he murmured while kissing the curve of her breast, "thank you."

It was funny how quickly your life can change. Four weeks ago, this moment would have been a laughable dream, and now Emily was his only comfort. Being able to kiss her and hold her . . . it was a gift.

One that he wasn't taking for granted.

And really, if he hadn't come to see her tonight, then he just would have been miserable home by himself. Thinking about his mom as she used to be, and missing Emily from afar. But why miss someone when you could sleep with her curled up in your arms instead?

That was foolish.

Then suddenly he remembered how upset Emily had been on the phone . . . and the visible puffiness around her eyes when he came in . . . and he shifted her slightly in his lap so he could see her face.

"What happened today with Morgan?" He asked with a crease in his brow.

Feeling the tears immediately begin to pool again, Emily blinked and shook her head.

"Let's eat first."

Basically she started crying every time she thought about Derek, and she'd already had to wash her face twice since she got home.

She wasn't looking for a threepeat before dinner.

Hotch stared at her for a moment and then nodded.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

He could see the glistening in her eyes, so he knew that he needed to let her go at her own pace.

Trying to shake off her creeping melancholy, she smiled at him as she blinked away the rest of the tears, "yeah, I made you dinner and I don't want it to get cold."

Appreciating how hard she was trying to stay upbeat for a few minutes, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek as his eyes crinkled, "you made me dinner? That was nice. What did you make?"

Usually he was the one that cooked. Emily told him she was a better baker than general chef, and to prove her culinary skills, she had made chocolate chip cookies last week for him to give to Jack. They were quite good, but this was the first meal he'd had of hers.

After pushing herself off his lap, Emily turned back to tug him up, "come over and see."

She was actually very proud of herself but she just hoped that he'd like it.

Wrapping his arm around Emily's waist, Hotch walked with her out to the kitchen. He let her go as she went over to get a pot holder and opened the oven door, leaning down and pulling out . . . he grinned.

"Dinosaur shaped chicken parmesan!"

She beamed at him over her shoulder, "do you like it?" she set the pan on the burner, "I thought it would be cute."

Emily knew she wasn't a master chef, but she figured that vermicelli and a jar of Ragu that she'd doctored up with some garlic and basil would go quite nicely with the fun little chicken pieces. She'd just put a teaspoon of sauce on each of them and dropped a little piece of cheddar on top. Cheddar was a hard cheese and one of the few that she was still allowed to eat. So technically it was 'chicken cheddar' and not 'chicken parm'.

Either way, basically she'd just liked the idea of making a cheerful meal to offset their respective crappy situations.

He pulled her into a hug, "I like very much," he kissed her nose, "good job on your first home cooked, kid friendly, meal."

She leaned back with a little grin, "that's right, I could make this for Baby someday," she tipped her head, "do you think it's something Jack would eat?"

Not that she was in any way pushing to get introduced to Hotch's son, but things had been going so well the past couple of weeks that she now knew it was a virtual inevitability. And the more she heard Hotch talk about him, the more she tried to think of ways to make his little boy like her. Hence the cookies last week, which it had pleased her to no end to hear that he had devoured in one sitting.

Someday Jack might come over for dinner, and she'd like to be able to make something that he would enjoy.

Hotch smiled, "yeah, he likes spaghetti and you already know how fond he is of dinosaur shaped food."

He knew she wasn't actually asking him to bring Jack over, she was just gathering info for the point when he did introduce the two of them. And this was as good an opening as any to at least bring up the timing, but he still wasn't quite ready to do even that much yet.

This was his first relationship since the divorce. And even though he knew it was kind of fast, he was really hoping that this would turn out to be his ONLY relationship post divorce. He didn't want to play the field and try on a new wife every couple years.

He didn't want to be Dave.

What he wanted was to fall in love and have a family again. But he'd now seen how quickly, and unexpectedly, families can fall apart. So he wanted to make sure that he and Emily were really committed, that they were really in love,bothof them, before he brought his son into the equation.

He didn't want Jack to get hurt . . . not again. The divorce was hard enough, he wasn't going to bring a woman into his son's life and have her go away six months later.

Love wasn't a guarantee that they could makes things work . . . but it was a start.

But if he told Emily any of that, he was afraid that might also add pressure to their relationship that they didn't need. He could hear it now.

'You can't meet my son until you promise me your eternal undying devotion.'

Yeah . . . he rolled his eyes slightly . . . that's not going to make things awkward.

Fortunately though . . . he watched her taking the milk out of the fridge . . . they were on that path already. He might have been the one that had convinced her to take a shot on them, but he was sure now, from the way that she looked at him, and from the way that she kissed him, that her attachment for him was at least as strong as his was for her.

So he figured maybe another month and he'd be ready to have that conversation with her about Jack. Perhaps then he'd have the conversation about his feelings for Baby too. Because he knew eventually he was going to have to tell her about that as well.

Might as well discuss both of their children at the same time.

His main concern though as it related to all of these situations, was that at a certain point simply 'waiting for the right time to bring something up' would morph into an actual problem in its own right. Avoidance of issues indefinitely would end up screwing things up just as efficiently as if they'd started discussing them too soon.

With a roll of his eyes he carried their plates over to the table . . . either way, he definitely wasn't getting into any of that stuff tonight. They already had enough on their plates between his mom and her situation with Morgan.

The fight was hours ago, but given how Emily's eyes were still puffy when he came in, that meant she'd been crying again since she got home. So figuring out her Morgan problem, really their Morgan problem . . . after all he himself had been a complete ass to Derek this week . . . needed to be a priority.

But . . . he gave Emily a little smile as she brought their drinks to the table . . . that discussion could wait until he was done with his prehistoric dinner.

/*/*/*/

Emily ended up waiting until they went to bed to tell Hotch what had happened with Morgan in the garage. She'd gotten so upset as she retold the story, that she'd ended up crying herself to sleep.

That was over an hour ago.

And now Hotch lay in bed staring at the television, watching the cartoons that he'd become accustomed to, while running his fingers through Emily's hair. After hearing about their fight he'd had to agree with her . . . this really was a mess.

But it had been such a gradual one that he had completely missed it until now. Really, he'd just been wrapped up in Emily's situation for awhile. That, and his own growing feelings for her, had blinded him to this train wreck.

It was fortunate that he was already keeping Emily partnered with just him and Dave for the time being, because Hotch knew he wouldn't be able to have her paired off with Morgan for so much as a lunch run for the foreseeable future. Maybe that was wrong, maybe he should make them interact, but he wouldn't do that to her.

He couldn't.

Until she was ready to tell Derek everything, Hotch wasn't going to put her under additional strain by putting them together. Because even though Hotch cared about Derek, Emily was his priority. As team leader that was probably not the most professional call . . . clearly friction between them wouldn't be good for morale . . . but morale was going to take a hit no matter what.

Because he didn't see any way for them to fix this without first making it worse.

In order to clear the air, Emily had to tell him what was going on . . . all of it . . . and then they'd have to deal with Morgan's reaction to that. If he was angry and hurt now, as Emily had clearly seen that he was, then that was just going to be intensified when he found out the whole story.

Hotch's wasn't an idiot, he'd seen how close the two of them used to be. And it was also obvious to him that he personally was part of the reason they were having problems now. Perhaps if Emily hadn't come to him that first day, if she had kept the news about the baby from him until she couldn't hide it, then it's possible that she might very well have eventually confided in Morgan.

And although Hotch hated that he was part of the reason for the rift between the two of them, he refused to regret anything that had happened between Emily and himself.

If she hadn't come to him first then there's no way he'd be holding her in his arms right now.

Instead he'd be home in his sterile month to month rental apartment still trying to figure out how to fill in the missing pieces in his life. His expression softened as he kissed her forehead. Now he had his missing pieces.

He was just trying to figure out a way to put the puzzle together.

Feeling Emily begin to stir, he looked down to see her lashes fluttering. A second later her gaze shifted up to his.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she murmured sleepily.

He kissed her temple right before he let go. And as he watched her stumble across the bedroom, dressed in his boxers, with tear tracks on her face and her hair all mussed up, he was filled with a wave of tenderness for her. It wasn't love yet.

But it was close.

When Emily came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, her hair was pulled up into a bun, and he could see that she'd washed her face.

He pushed himself up, holding out the sheet and blanket as he gave her a soft smile.

"You look pretty."

Emily stared at Hotch for a moment, feeling an ache in her chest before she gave him a watery smile.

"Thank you," she whispered back. Then she climbed into bed and shifted over to mold her body against his.

As Hotch's arms came around her, she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Again, I'm really glad you're home."

Hotch's fingers slowly stroked along the skin of her bare shoulder, tracing the lines of her tank top as he whispered back, "me too."

Counting their morning in Montana, which he did, they'd been together for twenty-one days. And he was already starting to feel like this . . . here lying in bed with her . . . was his home. That was even though the only things that he had consciously brought to her condo thus far were a toothbrush, a deodorant, a bottle of shampoo, and a bottle of shower gel.

The latter items were because he couldn't deplete his ready bag supplies. And they'd both agreed that he couldn't very well sleep over her house, and then go to work smelling like Emily's flowery bath products.

But since then he'd accidentally left a few things at her house.

Clothes that were thrown into her hamper without thinking. And rather than giving them back after they came out of the wash . . . Emily had started to adopt them. Hence the boxers she was wearing now.

And the Harvard t-shirt she'd worn to bed last week.

Hotch might not have had a girlfriend in a couple of decades, but his heart warmed at each new item he saw her wearing. Because he did know that if a woman was sleeping in your clothes, that was a good sign . . . that was a very good sign.

So far she'd only been over to his place once. She'd just wanted to see it, so he'd made her dinner there last week. But he didn't want her sleeping there. With her pregnant, he wanted her to be comfortable in her own bed, in her own home. And besides, he liked her place better. It felt more like a home and less like a place where you changed your clothes.

His apartment only felt like a home when Jack was there. But it hadn't felt so empty when Emily was there either.

Maybe home had nothing to do with the walls around you, but instead the people that filled it.

His hand slid down and splayed across the bare skin of her lower back. Her tank top had ridden up slightly when she'd shifted and his calloused fingertips gently caressed her smooth skin.

Every day now she grew more beautiful to him. No other woman even caught his eye anymore.

Not that he'd ever been much for that anyway. Leering at women was never a hobby of his. He wasn't Dave, or . . . he thought sadly . . . Morgan.

Poor Derek.

This was such a shit situation. And as he started thinking about it again, he just wished that he could think of an easy solution for Emily. Something that would help her fix what was broken with Morgan, because the wet spot that she'd left on his t-shirt was evidence of how upset she was about what was happening between the two of them. Basically, with the exception of dinner, and the hour they'd spent watching CNN, he was pretty sure that she'd been crying almost constantly since she got home.

And he couldn't have that.

As stupid as it was, the chief in him wanted to just "order" Morgan to forgive her. As though that was an option. Beyond the simple inanity of that idea, again, HE was also part of the problem.

Part of the reason Emily didn't feel comfortable telling Morgan everything.

Because she was right, Derek definitely wasn't going to approve of their relationship. And besides that, Hotch was a private person and he didn't want to discuss his personal life with anyone, let alone a subordinate . . . even if they were also a friend. But he knew if things became really serious between him and Emily, as he expected that they would, eventually the whole team would have to know. It was possible that his feelings for her would at some point start to color his decisions in the field. Of course he hoped that wouldn't happen, but he had six lives under his command.

He wouldn't risk them for his own hubris.

So his relationship with Emily would, down the road, become a matter of general team knowledge. But her problems with Derek were pushing that timetable up beyond Hotch's personal comfort level. And obviously beyond Emily's as well.

Christ knew that he didn't want to try and build these early days in a fish bowl.

But it wasn't anyone's fault that things between the two of them had unfolded in the way that they had. It was just life. You couldn't help who you fell for. And when the fates suddenly showed him an alternate future . . . something besides the bleak, depressing, life that he'd thought he was facing . . . what was he supposed to do? Ignore those feelings, and hope they'd go away?

Yeah, he'd tried that . . . it didn't work.

And bottom-line, at the end of the day, a few little work policies were not going to dictate the terms of his life's happiness. He had already given that place too much of himself. Too much of his life.

So he'd be damned if he was going to let it take anything else from him.

If he and Emily stayed together . . . he kissed her forehead . . . as he hoped that they would, then the Bureau could take a flying leap if they thought they were going to shitcan either one of them. If they had to eventually work in separate units, fine, he could live with that as long as he could come home to her.

It did bother him a little though that he was willing to transfer for a theoretical relationship with Emily, yet for Haley . . . to save a twenty year marriage . . . he'd balked when she'd made that same request.

Though as he thought about that point, maybe he'd known deep down that it already was too late to save their marriage. It wasn't just the one thing that was wrong. It wasn't just that he worked too much. They had grown apart . . . and they were unhappy.

Bitterly so.

Which meant that he would have transferred out of a unit that he loved, and that act probably would have only pushed off the inevitable for another six months.

Maybe a year.

So the difference here was, a transfer would be the catalyst for moving a new relationship forward from the beginning, not a last ditch effort to save something that was already dead. And how many times did the brass ring swing by? He knew now that you needed to grab it when you can.

Feeling Emily's respirations evening out again, Hotch's own lids started to close. One last thought came to him before he drifted off.

'Maybe next week I'll ask her if I can have a drawer.'

A/N 2: Gah, so much angsting, so little white space to fill it in! This is why I jumped ahead so far with the timing of this chapter. I wanted H/P to find that comfort with one another given that I was going to be batting them both around. But I still tried to show that there are still things to work out and discuss, though they are at least getting to the 'us and them against the world' point.

Hotch's mom, that just kind of came to me as I was going. First I was just going to have her break her hip to get him out of town, but as I was writing I thought the other element worked. Mostly so far we've explored Em's background and not much with his. The story is about both of them and dementia in elderly parents is common. And he's such a dark tragic figure that I could see that as being one more burden that he carries.

I honestly don't know how things will turn out in the end. This story is very different than anything I've written and maybe there won't be "happy" endings for everything. Because in life, sometimes you do hurt people and screw things up and they can't be what they were before. I don't WANT to do that here, but if that's the way the story goes then just a warning, all of their problems might not get a pretty bow.

And if anyone's wondering why Emily with her profilery skills didn't pick up on the extent of pain she was causing Derek, I'll say unless you're a complete narcissist you are at least peripherally aware of other people's feelings, but unless that person is really spending a lot of one on one time with you, then you aren't looking much beneath the surface of what that person is projecting to the world. She knew he was bothered, but she didn't know how much, because she didn't (still doesn't) realize how much he cares about her.

Finishing on a lighter note, Dave just totally strikes me as the kind of guy that tells dirty jokes and inappropriate stories :)