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“Emily. Explain something to me.” JJ grasped her hand across the hightop table, the ends of her words slurring together just enough that Emily made a note to cut her friend off soon. “You haven’t been on a date since you slept with Mick Rawson, what, four months ago? Why are you so opposed to me setting you up with someone?”
“Because I’m fine, JJ! You know how insane things have been at work. I have no desire to bring a man into my life right now.”
It was a half-truth, the reality a slightly more complicated answer that Emily would never admit to.
“Anyway, my vibrator and I are getting along just fine, thank you,” Emily waved away JJ’s objection before she could voice it, ignoring the pointed look shot her way by the couple at the next table.
“It’s just a date. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Who’s going on a date?” Penelope approached the table with a fresh round of drinks.
“Emily. If she decides to stop being so stubborn, I want to set her up with a friend of mine.”
“Oh!” Pen’s eyes went wide. “Do it, Em. Do it!”
“Pen—”
“You have two friends in committed relationships. Do this for us. We need it.” Penelope pulled Emily’s remaining free hand towards her, Emily now literally stretched between her two closest friends.
“You guys are the worst, you know that?”
“On the contrary, we are fantastic friends who just want to help our brilliant, gorgeous, available friend get laid.”
Emily bent her head to sip her drink, knowing from experience that once these two women latched onto something, resistance was almost always futile. As if she could sense that Emily’s resolve was beginning to crumble, JJ began prodding Emily incessantly on her arm.
“Give in, Emily. You know I’m not going to let this go.”
After another ten seconds of persistent poking, Emily groaned, resigning herself to her friend’s enthusiasm. “Fine. FINE. Thursday night, okay?”
Penelope and JJ grinned at each other across the table in sadistic victory, finally giving Emily full agency of her hands once more.
“Am I allowed to know anything about him, at least?”
“Nope,” JJ replied, popping her lips on the p . “I’m not letting you stalk him online and come up with an excuse to get out of this.”
Emily unleashed her most draconian stare but it went ignored as the other two women clinked their glasses.
The night ended a few hours later with Emily and Penelope escorting a swaying JJ home and depositing her into Will’s amused arms.
Back in the safety of her own bed, Emily stared at the ceiling and felt an unpleasant churn that had nothing to do with the alcohol slowly fading from her system until, at last, she turned over into a restless sleep.
Emily hefted her duffel bag into her arms, huffing as she attempted to use her free hand to turn the key to her room. Earlier that night, when Emily found Penelope in the sitting room of their hotel — or more accurately, the sole inn in this microscopic Alaskan town — she was informed the team had already sorted themselves into pairs for the available rooms. Dave had, of course, latched onto the only single bed available. Derek and Penelope claimed the one room on the ground floor, while the remaining girls, and Aaron and Spencer, had neighboring rooms upstairs.
The door finally clicked open, and Emily walked in to find Spencer sitting against the headboard of one of two beds, a handful of pretzels frozen halfway to his mouth.
“Hey Reid. What—”
“Oh Emily, there you are,” JJ walked out of the bathroom and perched herself on the edge of the second bed. An awkward pause passed between the three of them before JJ chipped in, “Spence is scared of Hotch, so he wanted to hang out here.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Spencer retorted. “He’s just being really intense right now. He’s looking over the case file and pacing up and down the room. I started eating,” he held up the snack bag in his hand, “and he just stared at me. So I left.”
The two women chuckled, then laughed even louder when Spencer mumbled plaintively under his breath, “I just wanted to eat my pretzels.”
Emily could feel for him, knowing all too well how severe Hotch could appear at times, but she was also exhausted and eyed her now occupied bed with envy. It was cold, too cold, the chill spreading from the tip of her nose down to her toes. All she wanted was to crawl into the warmth of the covers and sink her head into those inviting pillows.
“It’s cool, Reid. You stay here, I’ll take the other room.”
“No, Emily, it’s fine—”
“Don’t worry. Stay, eat your pretzels. I need to get off my feet, and I’m not going to bother Hotch if I’m sleeping.”
Spencer couldn’t help but look relieved despite his attempts at protest. “Thanks, Emily.”
Emily nodded, wished them good night, and made the short trip to the next room. Hotch answered her knock, a brief flicker of irritation at being interrupted smoothing into surprise.
“Emily?”
“Surprise. You have a new roommate.” She didn’t give him a chance to ask, sidestepping past him into the room. The fire was already roaring, saturating the room with a pleasing orange glow, comforting her immediately.
“What happened to Reid?” He closed the door and stepped back into the room. He was still in his clothes from earlier that day, and a small part of Emily’s brain noted the casual sweater and jeans suited him well.
“You scared him off,” she chuckled, dropping her bag unceremoniously at the foot of the empty bed.
“What?”
“You know, that whole,” she waved her hand in the general direction of his face, “silent, stare-y thing you do. He’s hiding out in JJ’s room.”
The thick lines of his eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a tight line that served as an exemplary depiction of the expression she was referring to. “Anyway, I offered to switch. Figure I’d be less of a bother to you. And let’s face it, you don’t really scare me.”
She winked, which only made his eyes narrow further, but he walked back to his bed, seemingly without further objection. Emily took her cue to use the bathroom, performing a truncated version of her usual nighttime routine, her only goal at the moment to make it to bed.
When she emerged, he was predictably still buried in his files, a cup of something warm cradled in his free hand. Emily slid into the covers of her bed, sighing at the blissful feeling of stretching out her legs under a pile of warm blankets, and slowly melted down into her pillow.
“You know you should get some sleep.” He didn’t react, so she pressed on, “We’ve done as much as we can for the night. Get some rest. Once Pen’s finished the background checks, we can tackle it fresh in the morning.”
She expected him to continue to ignore her advice, but to her surprise, he scrubbed a hand down his face, his exhaustion plain and clear. Nodding, he finally spoke, “You’re right.”
He retreated to the bathroom, and Emily snuggled further down. She was on that teetering edge of sleep when he came back into the room, stopping on his way to bed to add an extra log to the fireplace. Emily turned to her side to thank him, but the words promptly dried in her mouth.
He had dressed for bed. A white undershirt that fit snug against his torso and grey sweatpants that hugged his backside in a way she was sure would be considered illegal in several countries.
He looked…delicious.
Emily imagined crossing the short distance between their beds and climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs and tracing her tongue along that newly discovered skin between the hem of his shirt and the band of his pants—
“Emily?”
The deep timbre of his voice broke her out of her salacious fantasy. He was frowning at her again. Probably wondering why she was staring at his stomach. His surprisingly tight, defined stomach.
“Is everything okay?”
She blinked. “Yeah.” It came out cracked and hoarse, like she had just screamed her way through a rock concert. Trying again, “Thanks for keeping the fire going. Good night.”
She didn’t wait for his reply, promptly turning over to hide the rapidly forming blush making its way onto her cheeks. She heard the rustling of his sheets, the sound of his head hitting his pillow, and the click of the lamp. Finally, he wished her good night.
Any exhaustion she might have felt had burned out of her. Adrenaline was sparking every nerve, her heart hammering like she’d just run through the training course at Quantico.
It wasn’t that she had been totally oblivious to Hotch’s attractiveness. She saw the way cops and detectives eyed him when he entered a precinct, the women who would approach him on nights out only to be turned away with the utmost politeness.
Yet never before had it been placed on such brazen display. Never before had she felt her body react so viscerally, intent on acting and disappointed when she didn’t.
It didn’t help that she had always held a certain fondness for her no-nonsense boss. Her respect was not easy to come by, and yet he always held it, even when he was being his most irascible self.
She squirmed as she lay there, all hope of sleep lost, uncomfortable with the way her body was reacting to the images her brain still insisted on producing. When they heard a scream pierce through the window later that night, Emily couldn’t help but feel a dash of relief as she threw on her clothes and escaped.
“Aaron, you have to get yourself out there. You can’t just spend your weekends cooped up in your apartment.”
Aaron looked up from his paperwork at his friend, scoffing, “I am not cooped up —”
“Jack’s soccer games don’t count. Unless you’re telling me that you’ve finally started talking to those single mothers.”
“Dave, I appreciate that you have an interest in my personal life, but—”
“Give me a good reason,” Dave interrupted, holding his hand up before Aaron could answer. “And don’t say work or that you’re too busy. Your life is not going to get any easier.”
Aaron’s eyes darted briefly towards the bullpen when he heard Emily’s laugh, watching Derek and her needle Spencer through the blinds of his window.
“It’s just not the right time, Dave. I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
“It’s not a relationship; it’s a date. Just dinner, with a perfectly lovely woman I know. When was the last time you went on a first date? High school, with Haley?”
When Aaron said nothing, focused on absently sorting the papers on his desk, Dave persisted, “You need to put yourself out there. Casually, no pressure. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Aaron knew this was only the beginning. His friend, while well-meaning, dedicated as much effort into pulling Aaron out of his supposed social stagnation as he did putting serial killers behind bars.
“One dinner, and then you don’t bother me about this for the foreseeable future.”
Dave answered a grin that made Aaron immediately wary. “Deal. I’ll set it up. Thursday night.”
Aaron could not fathom how he ended up here.
A casual dinner with the team, celebrating the end of their case, turned into a night on the town. In Vegas, of all the horrors.
He could blame the two beers he had with dinner, softening him enough that he didn’t put up much of a fight when the team insisted that he join them.
It was a decision he was deeply regretting now, tucked away in one of the many booths lining the walls of a nightclub. It was a swanky place Derek had brought them to, with dark velvet walls, high ceilings, and lights that danced over the tops of the bodies. The bass thundered, each pulse bringing Aaron closer to the brink of a headache, while he waited for Derek to arrive with their drinks.
Dave sat across from him, looking entirely at ease as he observed their surroundings, a synchronous sea of bodies that swayed and gyrated to the unrecognizable music.
“What exactly are we doing here?” Aaron had to raise his voice to be heard across the table.
“Enjoying ourselves, letting off some steam.”
“Speak for yourself. This isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”
Dave simply chuckled, unsympathetic to Aaron’s souring mood. In a momentary respite, Derek arrived with their drinks, Aaron immediately taking a grateful sip of his whiskey.
“Are the girls not here yet?”
“Not yet. I can’t imagine it takes this long to change your clothes—”
Aaron spotted her before Dave finished his sentence. Emily. Dressed in a black dress with thin straps over her shoulders, draped over her body like glaze on a cake, nipping in and stretching over her every curve.
His mouth went dry, an unfamiliar clench hitting low in his belly. He could feel the flush rising up his face, hoping the relative darkness kept it hidden from view. Ducking his head, he focused on his drink, frown lines wrinkling his forehead as he attempted to make sense of the last thirty seconds of his life.
It wasn’t that he was completely blind to Emily’s attractiveness. Of course he noticed the way people watched her. The cops that offered to drive her around during a case, the men who approached her at bars to widely varying levels of success. Even the woman who had once boldly walked up to their entire team and asked Emily to dance, only to walk out of the bar with her twenty minutes later.
Yet, he had never experienced anything like this. Even after the bonds of his marriage had faded away, the fact of Emily’s beauty had always been just that. Not an opinion to hold and covet for himself.
“Where’s JJ?” Dave’s question broke Aaron out of his musings.
“She played the pregnant lady card,” Emily shrugged, and Aaron’s eyes instantly went to the graceful movement of her bare shoulder.
Derek pulled Emily into the dance floor, spinning her around so her hair rippled out behind her and the brightness of her laugh carried over the din of the crowd.
Aaron knew he was being blatantly obvious — he could feel Dave following the direction of his gaze, trying to ascertain what was holding his interest — but Aaron couldn’t help himself.
Her body moved with confidence, eyes closed as she danced with a lightness he rarely witnessed. As if they hadn’t just finished a case with a kidnapped kid, as if she didn’t carry the burdens of life and death on her shoulders.
It was intoxicating to watch. Even as people filled in the gaps, obscuring her from his view, he drank in every half-darkened glimpse.
An image trickled into his mind, impetuous and overpowering. He imagined walking through the throng, finding her in the center. Wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her flat against his body. Learning the slope of her neck with his lips, the scrape of his teeth against her skin as he tugged down that impractically small strap—
“I’m getting a refill,” Dave announced, interrupting the wayward path of his thoughts. “You need anything?”
Aaron shook his head, not wanting to add further fuel to his overactive imagination. He couldn’t deny the burn he felt. That impatient, fiery thing, eagerly fighting to crawl its way out of him.
He swallowed the rest of his drink in one fell swoop, embarrassed at himself, craving someone he had no right to want. Someone he had only ever possessed the utmost respect and admiration for.
Eager to leave before Dave returned and insisted that he stay behind, Aaron gathered his coat and fled.
“Thursday night, 7pm. He’ll be at the bar wearing a blue blazer. Oh! Em, you should definitely wear that dress you bought last week.”
“7pm on Thursday. She’ll meet you at the bar in a red dress. Now, let’s talk about what you’re going to wear.”
The restaurant was crowded and buzzy, a trendy spot that everyone seemed to be raving about in recent weeks.
Emily weaved through the tables towards the bar where a group of patrons were mingling, the bartender busy behind the counter. A man stood off to the side, forearms resting on the counter, his navy blazer stretched across broad shoulders, tapering down in an excellent fit. She took a moment to admire him, reminding herself to be nicer to JJ in the future, before clearing her throat lightly and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Recognition hit her slowly, but when it did, her mouth fell open. “Hotch?”
“Emily?” He seemed equally surprised, his eyes dragging over the length of her before his expression settled into one of understanding. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering so quietly that Emily just barely made out, “I’m going to kill him.”
Her stomach was making a slow crawl up to her throat, and she mentally rescinded any previous decisions to be kind to her friend. “What are you doing here?”
He sighed, running a hand down his face as he confirmed her suspicions. “I think our friends have a poor sense of humor.”
Emily ignored the tiny, unwelcome pang of hurt in her chest and laughed, “I guess so.” Taking one last glance around the bar, she hoped that this was all just a misunderstanding and her actual date — and not the man she had spent the better part of four months wanting — would step forward. When it was clear that wouldn’t happen, Emily stepped back and said, “Well, enjoy your free evening. I’ll see you tomorrow,” then turned and quickly made her way out of the restaurant.
Aaron cursed quietly as she walked away from him. He saw her reaction to his mindless comment, only discernible because he knew what to look for before her mask slipped into place. Before he could talk himself out of it, he followed her, catching up to her just before she reached the door.
“Emily, wait.” She stopped, looking up at him with no small amount of wariness.
She was lovely. A slight curl at the ends of her hair, makeup making her chocolate eyes appear even bigger than they normally were. Her long-sleeved red dress, with its low cut in the back, made his pulse quicken to an almost painful degree.
“We’re here, we have a table. Why don’t we have dinner anyway?” Sensing her hesitation, he added, “As friends.” It took her a few seconds, but eventually, she agreed.
They were seated in a small booth near the back. L-shaped and intended for couples, so they were sitting perpendicular to each other. Aaron had to commend Dave on his attention to detail, even if he was still irked by his friend’s meddling.
The atmosphere was undeniably awkward. They picked through the starter bread, talking about work as the safest topic of choice.
When their meals arrived, and they were down a glass of wine each, she began asking questions about Jack, and Aaron inquired about the new apartment she had just moved into. It was better, if a little stilted. A marked difference from the ease they usually had with each other. Aaron didn’t realize how much he valued it until it was gone.
Halfway through their entrees, he braced himself to ask the question that had been plaguing him.
“Why did JJ decide to set you up tonight? With me?”
She avoided looking at him directly, though they had both been culprits of that this evening. “She’s always been perceptive like that. She should have been a profiler; her talents are wasted,” she chuckled.
Emily expected a response, even a dry laugh, but he was silent. Prodding at his food with his fork as he seemed to be thinking through something serious.
Finally, he asked, “Perceptive?”
“What?”
“You said JJ was perceptive. What was she…perceiving?”
She balked at the unexpected question, fighting the urge to pick at her fingernails, but knowing he would easily latch onto her tells. Instead, she smiled, hoping he didn’t notice how strained it was. “Oh, you know, that I haven’t been on a date in a while. That’s all. She and Pen are far too invested in my romantic life.”
She hoped that would be the end of it, but he was watching her now with a new focus, scrutinizing her with the keen eyes of a profiler. She wondered briefly if this was how subjects felt in the interrogation room, their every thought and feeling laid out in painfully transparent view.
“Hotch, what—”
“You didn’t ask me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You didn’t ask me why Dave set me up. With you.” His voice had taken on a richness she hadn’t heard before. Deeper, softer, like the first decadent bite of chocolate cake.
“Okay, why?”
“Because,” he reached one hand towards hers. Not grasping it, simply skating his thumb lightly over her knuckles as her breath hitched at his touch. “He’s probably figured out that I care about you. More than I have any right to.”
Any chance of her finishing the rest of her meal vanished, her insides rioting violently. She felt like a giddy teenager learning about a schoolmate’s crush. Nothing like the adult, independent, mature FBI agent she supposedly was.
She didn’t realize she hadn’t said anything until he pulled away, back ramrod straight as he averted his eyes.
“Of course, if you don’t— that is, if I misunderstood— we can forget this—”
“Aaron.”
Supremely grateful for their current seating arrangements, she leaned towards him, brushing her lips ever so softly against his.
When she pulled back to gauge his reaction, he smiled. Not the smile she’d seen on rare occasions before. No, this smile was private, just for her.
His fingers grasped her chin, tilting her towards him so he could kiss her properly.
At the taste of him, Emily could feel her blood rushing in her ears, a potent high reminiscent of the irresponsible adventures of her youth. His tongue teased against her bottom lip, but before she had the chance to deepen the kiss to a point that would be ill-suited to their public setting, he broke away. An adorable flush on his cheeks, eyes half-lidded, a heavy exhale escaping his mouth, he looked as affected as she was.
“Well, this night turned out better than I anticipated.”
She grinned, stamping her lips to his once more.
“Aaron?”
He brushed his knuckle over her cheekbone, looking unbearably fond. “I like the sound of that.”
“Is Jack spending the night at Jessica’s?”
The shift in his expression was instantaneous, the heated look as his eyes dropped down to her lips again stealing her breath with its intensity. He nodded, and it sent a pulse low in her stomach.
Emily turned in her seat, scanning the restaurant until she caught the attention of their waitress. “We’ll take the check now, please.”
Aaron struggled to remember a better Friday morning in recent memory.
He woke to the view of Emily’s head resting on his chest, her hair fanning out in beautiful contrast over his white sheets. He tightened his hold over her waist, and she pressed closer to him still, her leg draping over his.
“Good morning.” He pressed his lips into her hair.
She hummed, twisting in his hold so that she lay on top of him, tucking her head under his chin as his fingers traced patterns over the skin of her back.
“Morning,” she mumbled into his chest. “It’s early.”
He chuckled at the reluctance in her voice. “We have to get to work.”
“Isn’t one of the perks of sleeping with the boss getting to come to work late?”
He rolled them over until she was smirking up at him, her legs wrapping around his hips. Nipping at her bottom lip, he said, “Unfortunately not.” Making his way up the length of her jaw, he added, “Though I’m hoping there are other benefits.”
Emily laughed in agreement, threading her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as he worked over her neck, careful not to leave any marks behind.
“What do we tell them?”
He paused, lifting his head so he could meet her eyes. “What would you like to tell them?”
She trailed her fingers over his lips, smiling when he kissed her fingertips. “It would be nice to keep this to ourselves, but I don’t see much chance of that happening.”
He agreed, then knit his brows together as he seemed to contemplate what he was going to say next. “Emily, I know we didn’t talk much yesterday. But I hope you know this isn’t— it’s not just about—”
She kissed him then, cupping his cheek in her hand, feeling the scratch of his stubble on her palm. “I know, Aaron. For me too.”
He gifted her that smile then, the one meant just for her, and her heart flipped in her chest. She moaned into his kiss as it deepened, wrapping her arms around and arching into him. When he traveled down her neck, she said, “You realize they’re going to be insufferable.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“How much grief do we give them?”
“Honestly,” Aaron mouthed the word against the top of her breast, “I’m finding it difficult to be upset with them right at this moment.”
Emily giggled — giggled — and then sighed as his lips moved down, down her body. Very difficult, indeed.
“So?” JJ and Penelope greeted Emily as soon as she passed the double doors, looking frighteningly like the smiling version of twins from a horror movie. “How was it?”
Emily didn’t miss the glance JJ threw to the kitchen where Aaron stood making his coffee. She’d reluctantly left him that morning after their shower went longer than expected, so she could get some fresh clothes at her place. Her friends trailed behind her as she walked to her desk. Dave stood nearby, casually leaning against Spencer’s desk with his head buried in a newspaper, conveniently within earshot.
Emily dropped her bag into her chair with an exaggerated sigh. “Really, JJ, the next time you set me up with someone, the least they could do is show up.”
“What?” JJ exclaimed, unable to stop herself from looking up at Rossi in horror, who had dropped the paper from his face.
Emily fought the urge to laugh and continued, “I got there, and there was no one waiting for me at the bar. I stayed there for half an hour before I finally went home.”
“Emily, are you being serious?”
“Why would I lie about something like that?” she retorted, arching an eyebrow at her blond friend. The excitement in JJ’s face fell, her expression tightening into one of concern.
“You’re right. Emily, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” JJ turned to glare at Dave, who shrugged his shoulder, looking equally confused.
Emily thought to herself that for a team of highly trained agents, they were disastrous at keeping their cool.
“Conference room. Five minutes.” Aaron barked as he passed them, striding up to his office.
The rest of the day passed in its usual fashion. Hotch, appearing more brusque than usual, assigned them their consults for the day as JJ and Rossi stared at him from across the round table. Emily caught them in the kitchen afterward, heads ducked together and whispering heatedly.
Around lunchtime, Aaron passed her desk and chanced throwing a sly wink in her direction, and Emily thought that she could really get used to sleeping with her boss.
When the sun set and everyone started packing their bags to return home, Emily watched Aaron turn the lights off in his office and close the door behind him. Derek, surprised that his boss was planning to leave the office at a reasonable hour, remarked, “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.” He walked up to Emily’s desk, smiling down at her warmly. “Ready to go?”
“Yup,” she grinned, taking his hand in hers as they walked to the elevator, leaving shocked faces and gasps in their wake.
Just as they entered the elevator, Aaron’s arm coming around her waist as she pressed the button for the lobby, an unmistakable shout came from the bullpen. “I KNEW IT.”