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The first time it happens, it surprises them both.
Hotch and Emily's attraction had been brewing for some time, years even. Lingering glances, subtle touches, and an unspoken connection, all laying the foundation for something that they were both actively trying to avoid. They knew it was a terrible idea – that it would risk both of their jobs, not to mention their battered hearts – so they pushed it aside and told themselves their relationship was no different than the ones they shared with Morgan, or JJ, or Reid. They had become experts in suppressing any thoughts that went beyond friendship and any desires that would be considered unprofessional.
So when it happens, it isn't the kiss itself that's such a surprise. No, what's so surprising is that two experts in compartmentalizing their emotions and ignoring their urges had finally slipped, inconveniently at the very same moment. If it had only happened once, they could have brushed it aside, blamed a lack of sleep or a fleeting fancy. The problem is, it just keeps happening.
The BAU team had spent days in Texas, tracking a serial killer with a penchant for blondes, who had led them on a chase across counties and through rough terrain, all the while holding a schoolteacher captive. By the time they had caught up with him and saved Anna Belmont from becoming the killer's next victim, the team is exhausted and numb. It's late when the jet touches down on the tarmac, and when they reach Quantico's parking garage, Prentiss finds that her car won't start.
''I'll drive you,'' offers Hotch, and Emily accepts without a second thought.
They don't talk much on the way, both feeling physically and emotionally drained, and ready to get some much-needed sleep. She watches him as he drives, and realizes that in all the years they've worked together, she's never been in Hotch's car. Emily notices that it smells like him, and discovers it makes her feel safe and comfortable.
''Emily,'' comes a voice, soft in the darkness.
She opens her eyes to find Hotch peering over at her as he gently shakes her arm.
''We're here.''
''Sorry,'' Emily yawns, ''Couldn't keep my eyes open.''
''Better you than me,'' Hotch jokes from the driver's seat, and Emily can't help but smile. It's not often anyone at work sees this side of their Unit Chief, and it always makes her feel like she's privy to something special.
Emily takes a second to wake up enough to make the walk to her front door and up to her apartment, shaking her head a little to clear out the cobwebs.
''Thanks for the ride,'' she says, ''I know it's kind of out of your way.''
''It's fine,'' Hotch replies, his eyes bleary but with a softness in them Emily's rarely seen. She gets lost in them for a moment, and he returns her gaze before reaching out and brushing the stray hair from her face.
''Get some sleep,'' Hotch says softly, before leaning over and gently pressing his lips to hers. They're warm and soft, and Emily finds herself responding instantly, her exhaustion extending to her willpower as well as everything else. Before she can even consider the consequences of what they're doing, Hotch is pulling away.
''I'm sorry,'' he says quickly, cheeks reddening, ''That was – I'm really tired.''
''Forget it,'' Emily tells him with a wave of her hand, ''Never happened.''
She gets out and heads into her apartment building, her head swimming. It's too complicated and she's too tired to think about it, so Emily pushes the kiss from her mind, and crashes straight into bed. She's asleep in less than a minute.
***
Hotch and Emily manage to shove their late-night kiss to the bottom of their consciousness before returning to work. It was a mistake, a slip-up brought on by a tough case and acute lack of sleep. By the time the team heads out for drinks after another rough week, the two have gotten used to the idea that the kiss had happened, and the unspoken agreement that it wouldn't happen again. Any awkwardness they had expected had failed to make itself known - it had just been a moment, and the moment had passed.
The team wraps up work on a Friday night, and miraculously no cases warranting immediate attention had come across JJ's desk, so they head out to a nearby bar to unwind. Beers turn into shots and suddenly whole team is hammered. JJ's found a couple of guys to play darts with, Garcia's cutting loose on the dance floor, Morgan and Reid are bickering about some tv show, and Rossi's solemnly observing the proceedings with a scotch in hand, looking ready to call it a night.
Hotchner's on his way back to the team's booth from the restroom when he sees Prentiss heading out the side door, looking the worse for wear. He finds her leaning against the brick wall of the bar, looking up at the stars.
''You okay?'' asks Hotch, the side door slamming behind him.
''Yeah, fine,'' Emily replies, her head lolling towards him, ''Just needed some air.''
''Half a dozen tequila shots will do that.''
Hotch's back lands heavily against the wall next to Prentiss, the drinks hitting him harder than he'd expected.
''It was not half a dozen, it was six at most,'' Emily replies indignantly, and Hotch snorts out a laugh.
''There he is,'' grins Emily, and he looks at her with bleary confusion.
''Happy Hotch,'' she explains, ''It's nice, seeing you smile. You should do it more often.''
''Well, I would,'' Hotch teases, ''But you see, I have a very stressful job.''
''You do?'' jokes Emily.
''And a team who, while surprisingly effective, like to push my buttons whenever possible.''
''But it's just so much fun!'' Emily declares, before breaking into laughter, ''Oh God, it's back.''
''What's back?''
She pushes off the wall and turns to face him, leaning in with her index finger extended and running it down the spot between Hotch's brows in an attempt to iron out the crease.
''Agent Prentiss,'' he scolds, ''You can't touch the scowl – it's supposed to be intimidating.''
''Psshhh,'' Emily scoffs, ''It's not intimidating, it's adorable.''
She reaches for it again, and Hotch grabs her wrist with a laugh, the scowl evaporating.
''There he is,'' Emily whispers fondly.
A split second later, her lips are on his, her arms wound around his neck. It's hungry and desperate, a far cry from the tender kiss they'd shared in his car weeks earlier, and it sets something off in him. Hotch loses all sense of his surroundings, much less the propriety of the situation, one hand sliding into Emily's hair and the other grabbing hold of her waist. He feels like he's on fire, until a voice throws a bucket of ice water on them both.
''Emily!''
They jump apart like they've been burned, as Penelope comes around the corner from the front door of the bar.
''There you are!'' Garcia exclaims, oblivious to the state Hotch and Emily are in, ''Everyone's leaving! Come on, we can split a cab.''
Penelope grabs hold of Emily's arm, leading her towards the parking lot, and Hotch follows, his heart pounding. The rest of the team stumble out of the bar and start debating who should share a cab with who, but Hotch's attention is still on Emily. Their eyes meet as she and Garcia pour themselves into the taxi, and she shoots him an apologetic smile as the car pulls away.
Drunk or not, this one is going to be harder to forget.
***
A month later, they lose Jimmy Taylor in Georgia, a young boy taken by the worst of men. He had been abducted and held captive, and as the team desperately searched for him, they knew time was running out. They were right - they'd found Jimmy, but it was too late. Hotch had been the one to find the body, and insisted on being the one to tell the parents. The whole team was distraught, but for Hotch it was a special kind of torture.
He's quiet on the jet back to Quantico, and he forgoes heading to his office to complete the paperwork as he normally would, instead climbing into his car as soon as his feet hit the ground, and going home.
Hotch and Emily have taken a step back since their alcohol-fuelled kiss at the bar, avoiding close contact and anything that could be construed as flirting, but today Emily doesn't care about boundaries. She gives Hotch some time to settle in at home - she knows he's going to want to see Jack, even though it's past his bedtime, that just sitting next to his son as he sleeps will give him comfort. When the time is right, Emily pulls up to Hotch's place and sends a text.
Can I come up?
He takes a few minutes to respond, like he's thinking it over.
Okay, reads his eventual reply.
Hotch opens the door to her and Emily's struck by how absolutely wrecked he looks – face pale, with dark circles under his eyes and frown lines etched into his face. He doesn't say anything – what is there to say after a day like today? – but he leads her into the living room and they sit on the couch.
Emily knows that Hotch needs to be the one to speak first, and she just wants to be there to listen.
''He looked so much like Jack,'' he says finally, struggling to meet Emily's eye, ''They were in the same grade. I just can't even imagine....''
Hotch trails off and Emily moves closer, her hand coming to rest on his arm.
''I know,'' she says softly, but she doesn't, not really. As much as today hurt, Emily knows it doesn't compare to the pain of a parent.
''We should have been there sooner,'' Hotch whispers, his eyes filling with tears, and it takes Emily's breath away. She's never seen him this upset about a case, and her heart breaks for him.
Emily's hands come up to cup Hotch's face, and she runs her thumbs over his cheeks as the tears threaten to fall. She hates seeing him like this and just wants to take his pain away. She presses a kiss to his cheek, then another, and another, the final one landing on the corner of his mouth.
Hotch slowly pulls back, his eyes searching hers. The air around them is electric, and they can't fight the pull of it, not feeling the way they do. Their lips meet, and though the pain of today's events doesn't disappear with the kiss, it has a numbing effect, a wave of warmth and comfort passing through them both. They know it's a temporary fix, that they're using each other as a crutch, as a way to forget, but it's not enough to dissuade them.
''Do you want me to stay?'' Emily asks when they eventually pull apart, but she knows what his answer will be, and that it's the right one.
Hotch shakes his head before pulling her close, his arms around her filling Emily with a sense of peace. After a few minutes, she reluctantly rises from the couch with a final kiss to his forehead, and heads for the door.
''I'll see you in the morning then. Call me if you need me.''
''Emily,'' Hotch calls, and she turns back to face him, even though she knows it will make it harder to leave.
''Thank you,'' he says, his voice rough with emotion and fatigue.
''Always.''
***
They don't talk about it this time either. It was a weak moment, driven by grief – two heartbroken people reaching for each other in a difficult time. They try to ignore the nagging feeling that something has shifted, that they now know what it feels like to share a truly intimate moment.
Hotch and Emily are back to keeping their distance, avoiding the lingering glances and subtle touches that were once part of their everyday interactions. It's jarring and counter intuitive, and it sparks a frustration that bleeds through in every exchange. The tension builds slowly for weeks, every step back and averted gaze adding fuel to the fire, until finally, something has to give.
The BAU team is in Missouri, investigating a string of attacks on couples in their homes. Nerves are frayed and patience is running low all around, every lead coming up empty. The rest of the team heads back to the hotel for the night after a long day of chasing more dead-ends. Hotch is reviewing a couple of stray leads with Detective Slater, and Emily's finishing up a final witness report, when it all comes to a boiling point. Her paperwork is usually immaculate, but Emily's missed an important statement, and Hotch snaps at her more than he intends. Emily tosses the file on the desk in front of him and Slater raises his eyebrows at the tension in the room, which makes it palpably worse.
''Prentiss,'' Hotch says evenly, rising from his seat, ''A word.''
She follows him wordlessly to an empty conference room and he shuts the door behind them.
''That was out of line,'' Hotch says the second the door clicks shut.
''I'm tired, I'm frustrated,'' Emily replies, with resignation in her voice, ''I just want to catch this guy.''
''Prentiss, I meant me,'' he tells her, ''I was out of line. You do excellent work.''
Emily's eyebrows raise and she studies him so intently, that Hotch shifts under her gaze.
''What do you want from me, Hotch?'' she says finally.
''Excuse me?''
''What is it that you want from me?''
There's a long list of things Hotch wants from Emily Prentiss, things that he shouldn't be thinking about, especially not while on a case. So he does the safest thing he can think of and steers the conversation back towards work.
''I want you to do your job, preferably without giving me a hard time. I know you're used to getting away with more that you should, and - ''
''Why is that?'' she questions Hotch, her hands on her hips and her brow creased in a way that's very reminiscent of himself.
''What?'' he asks lamely, struggling to stay on track.
''Why is it different for me?''
He knows. He knows exactly why, and she does too. It takes everything Hotch has to maintain the poker face he's perfected over the years.
''It's not - ''
''Not what, Aaron?'' Emily exclaims, her eyes wide and her frustration bubbling over, ''Not like that? Because we were tired, or drunk, or sad?''
His first name is foreign from her lips, and it throws Hotch off guard. He feels his cheeks reddening, and he curses the fact that Emily Prentiss can get a reaction out of him, even in the middle of a police station, knee deep in a case. She's always had an effect on him, from the day they'd met, his normally impenetrable barriers continually weakened in her presence.
Emily's gaze is defiant as she approaches him, and her proximity sets Hotch's heart racing. He can sense her pulse is quickening too, her breathing just a little shallower than it was moments ago, though her voice remains steady.
''We can make all the excuses we want,'' she tells him, her dark eyes fixed on his, ''But at some point there aren't going to be any left.''
It happens so fast, neither of them is sure who moved first. In an instant, Emily's pressed against the door, Hotch's hands cupping her face and his lips on hers. She's gripping the lapels of his suit, pulling him impossibly closer to her, revelling in the press of his body against hers. It's risky and audacious, and way over the line. But they're overwhelmed by a raw passion, an ache that's been building in both of them. They're lost in each other, completely consumed.
A knock on the door forces them to separate, to quickly catch their breath and compose themselves. Hotch opens the door to find Slater on the other side – there's a new lead, and late hour or not, he wants to chase it down.
''Give me a minute,'' Hotch tells him, and closes the door back over without shutting it.
When he turns back to Emily, her expression is an indecipherable mix of confusion and frustration, and Hotch knows they've just made everything worse. He tries to summon the right words, to tell her that they'll talk about this when the case is over, they'll figure it out and they'll be okay again. Hotch's attempt to speak sticks in his throat, the fear of straying even further over the line suffocating him.
Finally, it's Emily who speaks, but it's not words of reassurance, or a promise of an overdue conversation. Instead, she lets out a frustrated sigh and heads for the door.
''What are you waiting for?'' she asks, her voice hard, ''Let's get this guy.''
They call the rest of the team back from the hotel to check out Slater's lead, and by the time dawn breaks, they've got the unsub in custody.
They pile wordlessly onto the jet as the sun starts to rise, exhausted from a sleepless night, but satisfied to have gotten a killer off the streets. Emily's the first on the plane, and she tucks herself into the solo seat at the front, clearly in no mood for conversation. The team settles in around her, Morgan slipping on his headphones across the aisle, Reid sprawling out on the couch, Rossi and JJ chatting quietly in the main seating area. Hotch sits next to Dave and pulls out a stack of files. He's not really in a paperwork frame of mind, but he doesn't want to talk either, and it dissuades the others from trying to pull him into their conversation.
Hotch finds his mind wandering and his eyes follow suit. His gaze lands on Emily, who's holding an open book, but whose own attention is focused on the sky outside. The early morning sun is dappled across her face, bathing her in an ethereal light and making her look even more beautiful. When her eyes meet his across the aisle and his heart flutters in his chest, Aaron Hotchner realizes he's in serious trouble.
***
They'd been angry.
That's what he could tell himself. They were worked up, their adrenaline pumping and the stress of the case pushing their tempers skyward. It was frustration and aggravation, mixed with the tension of the past few months, all that had happened between them and all the things they hadn't said. They could put it behind them and move forward, as colleagues, maybe even as friends if they can avoid the scenarios that had led to their indiscretions in the first place. Maybe then it would pass.
Hotch could tell himself all of that, but the thing is, he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to make excuses anymore.
The day after they get back from Missouri, David Rossi invites the team to his mansion for dinner. They're overdue for some quality time that doesn't involve dead bodies or twisted minds, where they could relax and talk and laugh.
It's automatic, the way Hotch seeks out Emily the moment he walks through the door. She's laughing at something JJ's saying as they whisper together in a corner of the living room. She looks happy and relaxed, and the sight of her makes him smile. They sit at opposite ends of the table at dinner, a departure from their usual habit of migrating towards each other in these situations. He can feel Emily's eyes on him, and he catches her gaze a few times as they talk to other people. She doesn't seem angry with him, just cautious, and he can't blame her for that.
He finds her after dinner, when the team is scattered around the living room, enjoying glasses of wine or scotch, jazz playing through Dave's fancy speakers. She's out on the terrace, nursing her glass of red, a wrap hastily pulled around her shoulders. Emily's beautiful in the moonlight, and Hotch stops for a moment to take her in.
She turns to face him and all words are lost. So he offers her his hand, and as Emily sets down her glass Hotch pulls her to him, his other arm coming around her waist. Her palm lands on his back, and they sway together to the music drifting over the terrace from inside the house.
''I'm not mad, you know,'' she tells him, a soft smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes.
''Glad to hear it,'' Hotch smiles tentatively in return, the tension beginning to melt from his shoulders. She's always had a way of putting him at ease.
''It's complicated,'' Emily admits, her hand skating gently down his back in a way that's somehow both sensual and comforting.
''It is,'' Hotch agrees with a solemn nod, ''And I am incredibly bad at this.''
''You really are,'' she laughs, the sound of it sending a warmth through him in the cool night air, ''Not that I'm any better.''
Hotch's hand tightens a little around Emily's as his arm around her waist pulls her closer, and she presses her cheek to his, her breath gentle against his skin.
''And I thought Emily Prentiss was good at everything,'' he teases, his whisper soft in her ear.
Emily pulls back to look at him, and for the first time, Aaron really lets himself see the adoration in her eyes and feel the tenderness in her touch. His heart is beating fast against hers, his mind reeling with the possibilities. He doesn't know how he could have ever run from this, from her.
When he kisses her this time around, it's with a clear head and an open heart, and Hotch is fairly certain that he only wants Emily's lips on his for the rest of his life.
She's grinning at him as they separate, her bright smile shining in the dim light. The love he feels for her is reflected in Emily's eyes, and it makes Aaron's heart sing.
''What's our excuse going to be this time?'' Emily asks with an affectionate smirk as she holds Hotch close.
His answer is a gentle hand on her cheek and another kiss pressed to her lips.
''No more excuses.''