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“WAKE UP SLEEPYHEADS!”
It was Rossi’s smug yelling which jolted both Aaron and Emily back into consciousness. There was a microscopic fraction of a second between the shock at being awoken and the ramifications of their actions, wherein both Aaron and Emily felt calm and content.
Then reality intervened.
Aaron groaned and shielded his head with his arms as Emily raised her middle finger in the vague direction of the doorway. Neither of them were able to do much else, due to the throbbing, pounding agony in their heads, the dizziness in their temple, the blinding lights that were piercing their eyes, their heavy limbs and ominously churning stomachs.
“Did we have fun?” Rossi asked mockingly as he surveyed the scene before him. Aside from the empty bottles, cans and tumblers, there was also the fact that Emily was sprawled across the couch against the far wall and Aaron was lying on the floor with his suit jacket folded up into a makeshift pillow. Clearly these two dumbstruck lovebirds had had some fun the night before.
“Go fuck yourself Dave.” Emily mumbled without opening her eyes.
“Aren’t we a little ray of sunshine, you know what you two need?” Rossi asked as he made sure to snap as many photos as he could. Videoing this could be risky but photos They were forever.
“For you to fuck off?” Aaron asked as he attempted to sit up, winced and felt his head swim even more at the shift in gravity and movement.
“You kiss Jack with that mouth?” Rossi teased, ducking as Aaron reached for a discarded can and tossed it in his general direction. Even when violently hungover, Aaron maintained his strong aim.
“Dave I swear to God-” Emily threatened as she slowly pushed herself up. This felt even worse than Vegas. And that was saying something.
“Anyway, you need a large greasy bacon sandwich washed down with some beet juice.” Rossi continued, chuckling to himself at the nauseated groans from both hungover agents. Oh to be young again. Although he was certain the last time he drank as much as those two clearly had, he had woken up married to his third wife. Which of course begged the question; just what had these two gotten up to the night before?
“Aaron, I will give you a hundred thousand dollars in cash if you shoot Dave right now.” Emily offered. She was too tired and hungover for any of David Rossi’s bullshit and she had reached her limit. If Rossi did not leave them alone, she’d make him leave her alone.
“Gun too loud,” Aaron groaned. He could possibly stab Rossi or strangle him; something that wasn’t too damaging on his already sensitive ears.
“Two hundred thousand.” Emily offered. She was being 100% serious, besides, that amount was a mere fraction of what was in her trust fund, coupled with inheritances from all four of her grandparents. The perks of being the only child of only children in a very wealthy family.
“Deal,” Aaron replied as he pushed himself upright and reached instinctively for his hip. Of course his gun wasn’t actually there but it was enough for Rossi to finally take the hint that his presence was not currently welcome.
“OK, OK, I’m going,” Rossi quipped as he held his hands up in mock surrender. He would leave Mr and Mrs Hangover to deal with their current predicament and let them recover in peace. Besides, judging on their location within the office when they passed out, coupled with their clothing only showing the dishevelment of having been slept in; nothing too scandalous happened.
This time.
“Can we just sleep for the rest of the day?” Emily asked as she turned over on the couch with a groan as she struggled to maintain her perilous balance. She wasn't sure if she needed to pass out, puke or pray for death. All three options were as viable as the other.
“I wish,” Aaron said as he slowly stood up. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea but he would have to move at some point. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
“Please do,” Emily said as she attempted to push herself up. “Feels like the summer of ‘91 all over again.”
“Except it was a lot easier to be hungover in your twenties.” Aaron pointed out. Although some things tended to improve with age, dealing with a hangover was not one of them.
“Yeah because I didn’t have people yelling at me. Usually by the time I woke up, Mother Dearest was already yelling at someone else.” Emily quipped as Aaron left the room. She sat back on the couch and sighed deeply. She could remember parts of the night before but other parts were a blur.
She remembered the burn of the scotch as it slid down her throat.
She remembered them joking about ways they could get Strauss fired; the more ridiculous, the better.
She remembered the soft boyish smile on Aaron’s face just before she ki- oh.
‘Oh,’ Emily whispered as the memory came back to her. Her and Aaron, chatting, laughing, content in each other’s company and then; touching, kissing, finally allowing some of the undeniable tension between them to bubble over.
Did they?
No.
She knew that no matter how drunk they were, neither of them would have taken it further than that. Yet even a kiss was too far. They were close friends, best friends, colleagues, team mates; all things which did not need the extra complication, well, this. Friends did not kiss.
And they definitely did not kiss the way that Aaron Hotchner had kissed her the night before…
Emily rested her head in her hands as Aaron returned with two cups of coffee in his hands. She felt the tension in the room shift at his return and she knew that she wasn’t the only one who remembered the events of the night before. There was just one question left to ask and neither of them was ready to ask it yet.
What did this mean for them now?