Just About Jack, Hotch/Prentiss, PG - for ![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mitfordgal
Feb. 14th, 2010 05:31 pminnerslytherinTitle: Just About Jack
Pairing: Hotch/Prentiss
Rating: PG
WC: 3,919
Summary: The team wants to help Hotch after the final encounter with Foyet. Emily wants to help both Hotch and Jack. What she can't quite figure out is how to help herself.
Note: This fic was written expressly formitfordgal, who was the top bidder on my ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
help_haiti auction. Thanks to darkhawkhealer and severity_softly for the beta jobs.
It started with Christmas.
Hotch was back with the team, and he seemed to be doing well, but Emily knew he was struggling with his role as a single parent who was also the unit chief. Everyone could see it, and the team was coming together to shoulder a lot of the responsibilities Hotch used to carry alone. Morgan had taken it upon himself to see to it that the paperwork wasn't left to Hotch. Rossi made Hotch leave at a decent hour most nights. Each team member chose a distinct way to help take care of Hotch. For Emily it was Christmas and Jack.
She wanted to help make Jack's first holiday season without his mom as good as possible, so she ordered a Christmas tree to be delivered to Hotch's apartment, then borrowed Rossi's key to the place while Rossi distracted them by taking Hotch and Jack out to some Disney on Ice show. Emily spent the next hour and a half turning Hotch's apartment into a Christmas fairy tale, decorating the tree, hanging garlands of lights along the windows and doorways, tacking a wreath to the outside of the door and holly over each of the windows. She'd even given in to temptation and put a mistletoe kissing ball in the kitchen, though she wasn't sure if it was a good idea. This was just about Jack, after all, but reminding Hotch of things like romance might not be a bad idea.
***
Dave had approved of the idea to decorate for Christmas, even though he didn't do it himself. Instead he opened his house to the team for New Year's, fixing up two guest bedrooms and the couch in his den so the Hotchner men, Morgan, Reid, and Emily could all stay over. Hotch allowed Jack to stay up long enough to watch the ball drop and collect a "New Year's kiss" from each member of the team. Then Emily had volunteered to tuck Jack in, which had been gleefully accepted, since Jack knew she told good stories. She'd given Jack three bedtime stories before he'd succumbed to sleep. Emily had been unable to tear herself away from the sleeping boy, so she'd curled up on the bed next to him, on top of the covers, and stroked his hair while he slept.
It was nearly one-thirty when Hotch found her there as he prepared for bed. She'd dozed off, and she startled awake when he came into the room, but fortunately Jack didn't wake. Hotch had looked at her and Jack for a long time, the lines of worry and exhaustion slipping away from his face. He'd smiled at her, and it was an expression so like the man who had worked for her mother a decade and a half ago that Emily had caught her breath. She'd slipped off the bed and wished Hotch sweet dreams, then impulsively brushed a kiss against his cheek.
"Happy New Year," she whispered, and held her breath until he wished her the same. She'd changed into her pajamas and snuggled down on the couch, staring into the darkness of Dave's den and feeling a tightness in her throat, not sure whether it was because of Jack or because of Hotch.
***
Then came Valentine's Day, and it felt weird getting Jack a card without Hotch getting one, so she'd found a silly card with a robot on it, one that was obviously meant for a kid, that said, "Programming you a Happy Valentine's Day!" She knew it was inappropriate, but she couldn't help thinking that, for all the people taking care of Hotch, few people really took the time to find out how he was doing. She gave Jack a big box of chocolates and signed Hotch up for a club that sent a gourmet coffee through the mail each month. She shouldn't; this was just about Jack. But it felt right.
The first week of March, after she got an email saying the first coffee had been shipped, was the first morning she saw Hotch show up with a thermos in his hand. Every time she saw him pour a cup of coffee from his thermos, she felt a little flash of warmth go through her. She could take care of Jack and Hotch both, and for the first time she could admit that she wanted that.
***
For Easter Emily procured invitations to the White House Easter Egg Roll. She knew she wouldn't technically count as Jack's family, and she was probably crossing the lines of propriety when she slipped the two tickets into a card with bunnies and butterflies on the cover.
"Emily Jane, are you sure you know what you're doing?" her mother asked. She'd pulled some strings to get Emily a time-slot for the tickets that would allow time to attend church before the egg roll. They were having tea at her mother's favorite Russian tea room two weeks before the holiday.
"No," Emily said, licking the envelope and sealing it. "I'm probably being stupid, actually. If Strauss found out I was socializing with Hotch outside of work, without the rest of the team..." She bit her lip and looked away. She and her mother had been repairing their relationship in the years since the Ambassador came to the BAU for help, but there were some things Emily still didn't feel comfortable discussing with her mother. Her aching desire to have a family was one of those things.
Elizabeth Prentiss' expression softened. "Aaron Hotchner is a fine man," she said softly. "I have always thought highly of him, and there are people who are well-placed in Washington who think highly of him." She paused and rested a hand on Emily's. "And you have made a wonderful career for yourself, and while I know the Diplomatic Corps would have loved to have you, you've done very well in law enforcement. I am proud of you, but I know that's not all you are."
Emily looked at her mother, wondering how transparent she had been. "I love my job," she said finally. "But loyalty and honor and family are more important to me than my job."
Elizabeth nodded. "Then I think you know what you're doing," she said, smiling.
She chickened out when it came time to give Hotch the card. Instead of delivering it to him in person, she slipped into his office while he was at a meeting and left it on his desk. She had to leave to teach a class at the Academy before he returned, so she was spared seeing his immediate reaction.
The knock on her apartment door that evening surprised her. She checked the peephole and saw Jack, grinning and waving wildly. Her heart thudding suddenly in her chest, Emily patted her hair, then swung the door open. Hotch was holding Jack and looking a mixture between sheepish and hopeful. Emily beamed at him and saw the tense lines of his shoulders relax.
"Come in," she said, and Jack leaned toward her, wanting a hug. She took him obediently and squeezed him, then set him down so he could run ahead of her to stare out the window at the Mall.
"We were just coming back from a birthday party," Hotch said. He locked the door behind him when he came in.
"Would you like a drink?" Emily was moving to the refrigerator before he answered. She'd opened a nice bottle of wine earlier in the week and had drunk only one glass. It would be nice to share it. Hotch glanced at Jack, then nodded, so Emily poured for them both. She poured a cup of milk for Jack and found some crayons, bought weeks ago for just this possibility, for him to color with.
They sat on the couch, watching Jack as he lay on the floor coloring. They didn't talk for a long time, but Emily felt comfortable like this. If they didn't talk about this, if they didn't acknowledge it, it didn't have to be real. They didn't have to break the rules if they just pretended neither of them felt what was growing between them.
In fact she felt a thrill of panic go through her when she heard Hotch draw in a long, slow breath. Don't, she wanted to say. Don't say it, don't admit it. Don't change things. But it was ridiculous, because of course she wanted more than this. She just wasn't sure she could have it.
"Emily," he said softly. "There were three tickets."
On the carpet, Jack kept coloring, blissfully ignorant of the fact that his father was reshaping Emily's world with those words. Emily envied him. She took a shaky breath.
"I hoped you and Jack would go with me," she replied, and stopped.
Hotch didn't reply in words. Instead, after several heartbeats, his hand closed gently around Emily's where it rested between them on the couch.
Emily's heart sang.
***
She skipped Mother's Day. As much as she loved Jack, and as much as she was growing to love Aaron, it felt like it would be disrespectful to thrust herself into their lives on a day that rightfully belonged to a dead woman.
Originally she'd had a plan to give Jack something to help him remember his mother. She'd found a collage picture frame and had Garcia procure pictures of Haley. One of the pictures stunned her--it was a picture of Haley as Emily had never seen her, in a moment of pure joy. The most shocking aspect was the dyed dark hair that showed it was taken during the protective relocation. Emily looked down at the picture, shaken, and wondered if she were pursuing something that would end up breaking her heart. How could Aaron have not still loved Haley? And if he had still loved her, how could a few months between her death and now be enough for Emily to hope that anything could happen between them?
Easter hadn't been a turning point in Emily and Aaron's relationship. It had been an acknowledgement, rather, a hint that yes, this could become what they both seemed to feel. There had been more touches, moments when Emily felt comfortable leaning against Aaron, times when he took her hand as they walked. But he had never once touched her in a way that was truly inappropriate for a coworker or friend. He had never kissed her. Maybe Emily was deluding herself. Maybe she was reading too much into the fact that Aaron seemed to need her.
After a long while she'd put the pictures away in a drawer and went out for a long, hard run that left her exhausted and unable to think too much.
***
Father's Day was a different story. June in Virginia was a beautiful month. The humidity hadn't trickled in yet but the temperatures were in the seventies and eighties and the sun was a near-constant companion. Emily took Jack shopping one afternoon and they found presents Aaron would like--a "Superhero Dad" t-shirt from Jack and a baseball retrospective coffee table book from Emily. The next day she packed a picnic lunch and the three of them went to Hidden Pond Park for a picnic. There was a playground and a nature center for Jack, and Emily had brought a bottle of champagne for after Jack wore himself out and they could all relax. She spread out a blanket and lay on the grass in a tank top and shorts, watching Jack and Aaron playing.
Her chest ached. This was what she wanted, a family of her own, to be needed and helpful and steady. But she couldn't help thinking that sometimes it would be nice to be wanted, too.
Aaron was doing better. Everyone on the team agreed, and the first time Emily had met Sean, he had even told her he thought Aaron's improving state of mind was mostly thanks to her. "It does him good to be reminded he doesn't have to be perfect to be happy," Sean had said. Emily had understood; it had taken her years to learn that lesson herself, after living in the shadow of her mother's stellar career. And as Aaron's state of mind improved, Emily kept thinking that maybe soon he would look at her with desire instead of appreciation. But it never happened.
Emily closed her eyes against the sudden stinging in them. It didn't matter. If nothing else, Jack seemed to have come through the loss of his mother as reasonably happy and healthy as any four-year-old could be. She would be grateful for that. She listened to the gleeful shrieking of a little boy and his father playing tag, enjoyed the calls of blue jays from the nearby trees, and relished the sunlight against her eyelids.
"Shhh, Miss Em'ly's asleep," Jack whispered. Emily tried to open her eyes, but they were so heavy, and she felt so content.
"We'll wake her up," Aaron replied, his voice a pleasant rumble. Emily loved listening to him talk. She drew in a long breath.
"You just did, Daddy." Jack's voice was reproachful. Emily smiled faintly.
"Wake up, Sleepyhead." The unguarded affection in Aaron's voice made Emily open her eyes. She held up a hand to block the sun, smiling up at him. Aaron was wearing jeans and the t-shirt from Jack, and even though she'd seen him dressed casually more often in the past six months, Emily's heart jumped into a funny pitter-patter of pure wanting as he smiled back down at her.
"Jack thought we should make sure you weren't bored," Aaron told her.
Emily sat up. "I was relaxing, not bored." She looked at Jack, who was balancing on one foot and watching her. "You're not bored are you, kiddo?"
He started to shake his head, but Emily reached out and grabbed him, tugging him close and tickling him. It brought shrieks of laughter as he squirmed to escape. Emily didn't let him, but she quit tickling in favor of dropping kisses on both cheeks and his forehead. Jack grinned up at her and wrapped his arms around her neck.
"I love you, Miss Em'ly," he said, and Emily felt tears flood her eyes. She held him tightly and squeezed her eyes shut.
"I love you too, Jack," she whispered back. "I love you too."
***
"Emily, do you have a minute?"
Dave's voice brought her out of a case involving peeping toms and fetish burglaries. She shook off the idea of a serial rapist getting started and shrugged. "Sure, let me save this."
She saved and closed the file she was working in, then went up to his office. He indicated that she should close the door behind her, which was a surprise. But she did so and took a seat across from him. He held out a Coke that he must have gotten from the vending machine downstairs--the one on their floor was still broken. Emily's brows drew together. He was prepping her for something. What was going on?
"Aaron's looking good," he said, popping open his own can of Coke. "Eight months after Foyet killed Haley, he's smiling again--more than he used to--and leaving work at a reasonable hour most nights. He still has his moments, sure, but I think he's made great progress."
Emily opened her Coke and took a long sip. "He's got a good team," she said, hoping she sounded normal.
"He's got you," Dave countered. He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "So why have you got shadows under your eyes and a sad expression when you think no one's looking? Is this not what you wanted?"
She went still. Count on Dave Rossi to get right to the center of the matter, even if it took a punch to the gut to do it. The Coke can made a crinkly noise and she carefully loosened her grip a little and took a sip.
"I don't get it," Dave continued when she didn't speak. "You've always liked and admired Aaron, that much is obvious. There's been respect between you two as long as I've known you. You support him a hundred percent, you don't question him, you defend him to others. Hell, you even resigned from the FBI out of your loyalty to him."
Emily took another sip of her Coke and wished Dave had at least had the decency to do this with whiskey instead of soda.
Dave waved a hand. "All of that could be explained away as the loyalty and affection between close colleagues. Even the way you've tried to help Jack could be that. But not the way you've looked at him since Foyet attacked him. Not the way you hovered throughout Aaron's recovery. Not the way you looked at people who might criticize him like you were sizing them up for evisceration. You're in love with the man, Emily. So why the hell don't you do something about it?"
She wondered sometimes what this job was doing to them. She felt her throat tighten but her eyes didn't prickle with tears, even though she felt like crying. "He doesn't want me, Rossi," she said quietly. "He needs me. And that's okay. I'm fine with that. I just...have to adjust, that's all." She looked down at the desktop between them, nodding to reassure them both. "I just have to get used to thinking of things between me and Aa--Hotch as something convenient because he needs me for Jack."
"For Jack?" Dave exploded. "For Christ's sake, woman, are you so in love with your God-damned compartmentalization that you can't see what's in front of your face? Aaron doesn't know how to do this! He was eighteen the last time he wooed a woman, and now he's a widower with a young son and a demanding career--a demanding career, by the way, that ended his last marriage. And now he's dealing with a ridiculous kaleidoscope of feelings for this amazing, intelligent woman who has always been just a friend and colleague, and is suddenly the only woman he can see. You need to help him out a little."
She licked her lips, trying to process what Dave was saying. "What do you mean?"
"You guys took Jack to the National Harbor fireworks festival, right?"
Emily nodded, watching Dave. "He had a great time. There was a kid's area with rides and face painting and carnival games--"
"And what did you and Aaron do?" Dave interrupted.
Emily blinked for a moment, then smiled, remembering. "I went on the rides with Jack and Aaron won him a stuffed alligator in the ring-toss. We ate cotton candy and Jack and I got matching lions painted on our cheeks." She laughed. "Aaron wouldn't let them paint his face."
Dave nodded. He was looking at Emily like she should understand his point. Finally he shook his head in exasperation. "Emily, you're being parents. You and Aaron haven't taken any time to figure out the part where you're crazy about each other. You've spent all your time focused on Jack, and that's not a bad thing, but it's also not going to get the two of you in bed with each other."
"Oh my God," she blurted, her cheeks going hot at the blunt way Dave said that...and hotter still at the way he smirked in response. "You're such a jackass."
"You love me for it," Dave said. He looked altogether too comfortably smug about all this. "Now. Marching orders. Jessica is keeping Jack for the next week. You're going to go home and pack, as is Aaron. Tomorrow you're going to show up at seven here--I took the liberty of making reservations, including dinner reservations at the 1766 Grille." He held out a card. "There will be roses and champagne and chocolate, and JJ is already under orders not to call if there's a case."
Emily looked at the card, swallowing when she saw that it was a gift card for The Homestead, a posh and very traditionally Southern resort four hours away in the Alleghenies. "You don't do anything halfway, do you?" she asked quietly.
"Not when it comes to the happiness of two people I care very much about," Dave replied. "Now go on. I've still gotta get Aaron in here for a lecture. Go home and pack. I'm sure he'll call you later."
Aaron didn't call later. Instead, as Emily was still waffling over which two of her four favorite dresses to take, someone knocked on her door. She was in jeans and a tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was probably a mess. She sucked in a breath and ran down the stairs to answer it.
Aaron was alone, a bouquet of mixed flowers clutched in his hand. He was wearing khakis and a navy t-shirt. To Emily's astonishment, he almost looked scared.
"I don't know how to do this," he blurted, looking at her.
Emily stared at the flowers, then up at him. She felt a smile spread across her face. Had it really been this easy all along? "This is a really great start," she said, taking the flowers. She curled her other hand around his, pulling him into the apartment. As soon as he closed the door behind him, she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She pressed her forehead against his jaw, drinking in the scent of him. His arms closed around her, gentle and strong.
"I couldn't believe Dave when he said..." Aaron murmured.
"What?" she prompted, lifting her head to look at him.
"You...don't just want Jack?" he said hesitantly. "You want me too?"
It was heart-breaking, the way he looked as if a coveted prize was within reach, but he still expected to have it snatched away from him. She nodded slowly and blinked hard at the way her eyes were stinging.
"Aaron, yes," she whispered, and lifted her face to his.
She'd loved Aaron Hotchner for years, for what felt like a lifetime, and not long enough. As their lips met, a rush of heat went through her and she whimpered against his mouth. His lips were firm and gentle, but she didn't want firm and gentle--she wanted want. She parted her lips against his, the fingers of her free hand slipping into his hair and urging more from him. As their tongues slipped against each other, she gripped the flowers too tight and felt stems poking her palm, but she didn't want to stop, not even long enough to put the flowers in water. She wanted his hands on her and his mouth on her, and she wanted to make him understand that this wasn't just about Jack. This had never been just about Jack, not even when she'd pretended to herself that it was.
He was mumbling something against her lips and she finally realized it was "Beautiful, so beautiful," over and over. His hands went to her hips and lifted, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her to the couch. Then her shirt was open and his hands were in her hair and his mouth was skating along the top of her bra, and the flowers hit the floor just before she tugged his shirt up over his head.
This, she thought, is a great way to start our vacation. And then she stopped thinking altogether.
Pairing: Hotch/Prentiss
Rating: PG
WC: 3,919
Summary: The team wants to help Hotch after the final encounter with Foyet. Emily wants to help both Hotch and Jack. What she can't quite figure out is how to help herself.
Note: This fic was written expressly for
mitfordgal, who was the top bidder on my help_haiti auction. Thanks to darkhawkhealer and severity_softly for the beta jobs.It started with Christmas.
Hotch was back with the team, and he seemed to be doing well, but Emily knew he was struggling with his role as a single parent who was also the unit chief. Everyone could see it, and the team was coming together to shoulder a lot of the responsibilities Hotch used to carry alone. Morgan had taken it upon himself to see to it that the paperwork wasn't left to Hotch. Rossi made Hotch leave at a decent hour most nights. Each team member chose a distinct way to help take care of Hotch. For Emily it was Christmas and Jack.
She wanted to help make Jack's first holiday season without his mom as good as possible, so she ordered a Christmas tree to be delivered to Hotch's apartment, then borrowed Rossi's key to the place while Rossi distracted them by taking Hotch and Jack out to some Disney on Ice show. Emily spent the next hour and a half turning Hotch's apartment into a Christmas fairy tale, decorating the tree, hanging garlands of lights along the windows and doorways, tacking a wreath to the outside of the door and holly over each of the windows. She'd even given in to temptation and put a mistletoe kissing ball in the kitchen, though she wasn't sure if it was a good idea. This was just about Jack, after all, but reminding Hotch of things like romance might not be a bad idea.
***
Dave had approved of the idea to decorate for Christmas, even though he didn't do it himself. Instead he opened his house to the team for New Year's, fixing up two guest bedrooms and the couch in his den so the Hotchner men, Morgan, Reid, and Emily could all stay over. Hotch allowed Jack to stay up long enough to watch the ball drop and collect a "New Year's kiss" from each member of the team. Then Emily had volunteered to tuck Jack in, which had been gleefully accepted, since Jack knew she told good stories. She'd given Jack three bedtime stories before he'd succumbed to sleep. Emily had been unable to tear herself away from the sleeping boy, so she'd curled up on the bed next to him, on top of the covers, and stroked his hair while he slept.
It was nearly one-thirty when Hotch found her there as he prepared for bed. She'd dozed off, and she startled awake when he came into the room, but fortunately Jack didn't wake. Hotch had looked at her and Jack for a long time, the lines of worry and exhaustion slipping away from his face. He'd smiled at her, and it was an expression so like the man who had worked for her mother a decade and a half ago that Emily had caught her breath. She'd slipped off the bed and wished Hotch sweet dreams, then impulsively brushed a kiss against his cheek.
"Happy New Year," she whispered, and held her breath until he wished her the same. She'd changed into her pajamas and snuggled down on the couch, staring into the darkness of Dave's den and feeling a tightness in her throat, not sure whether it was because of Jack or because of Hotch.
***
Then came Valentine's Day, and it felt weird getting Jack a card without Hotch getting one, so she'd found a silly card with a robot on it, one that was obviously meant for a kid, that said, "Programming you a Happy Valentine's Day!" She knew it was inappropriate, but she couldn't help thinking that, for all the people taking care of Hotch, few people really took the time to find out how he was doing. She gave Jack a big box of chocolates and signed Hotch up for a club that sent a gourmet coffee through the mail each month. She shouldn't; this was just about Jack. But it felt right.
The first week of March, after she got an email saying the first coffee had been shipped, was the first morning she saw Hotch show up with a thermos in his hand. Every time she saw him pour a cup of coffee from his thermos, she felt a little flash of warmth go through her. She could take care of Jack and Hotch both, and for the first time she could admit that she wanted that.
***
For Easter Emily procured invitations to the White House Easter Egg Roll. She knew she wouldn't technically count as Jack's family, and she was probably crossing the lines of propriety when she slipped the two tickets into a card with bunnies and butterflies on the cover.
"Emily Jane, are you sure you know what you're doing?" her mother asked. She'd pulled some strings to get Emily a time-slot for the tickets that would allow time to attend church before the egg roll. They were having tea at her mother's favorite Russian tea room two weeks before the holiday.
"No," Emily said, licking the envelope and sealing it. "I'm probably being stupid, actually. If Strauss found out I was socializing with Hotch outside of work, without the rest of the team..." She bit her lip and looked away. She and her mother had been repairing their relationship in the years since the Ambassador came to the BAU for help, but there were some things Emily still didn't feel comfortable discussing with her mother. Her aching desire to have a family was one of those things.
Elizabeth Prentiss' expression softened. "Aaron Hotchner is a fine man," she said softly. "I have always thought highly of him, and there are people who are well-placed in Washington who think highly of him." She paused and rested a hand on Emily's. "And you have made a wonderful career for yourself, and while I know the Diplomatic Corps would have loved to have you, you've done very well in law enforcement. I am proud of you, but I know that's not all you are."
Emily looked at her mother, wondering how transparent she had been. "I love my job," she said finally. "But loyalty and honor and family are more important to me than my job."
Elizabeth nodded. "Then I think you know what you're doing," she said, smiling.
She chickened out when it came time to give Hotch the card. Instead of delivering it to him in person, she slipped into his office while he was at a meeting and left it on his desk. She had to leave to teach a class at the Academy before he returned, so she was spared seeing his immediate reaction.
The knock on her apartment door that evening surprised her. She checked the peephole and saw Jack, grinning and waving wildly. Her heart thudding suddenly in her chest, Emily patted her hair, then swung the door open. Hotch was holding Jack and looking a mixture between sheepish and hopeful. Emily beamed at him and saw the tense lines of his shoulders relax.
"Come in," she said, and Jack leaned toward her, wanting a hug. She took him obediently and squeezed him, then set him down so he could run ahead of her to stare out the window at the Mall.
"We were just coming back from a birthday party," Hotch said. He locked the door behind him when he came in.
"Would you like a drink?" Emily was moving to the refrigerator before he answered. She'd opened a nice bottle of wine earlier in the week and had drunk only one glass. It would be nice to share it. Hotch glanced at Jack, then nodded, so Emily poured for them both. She poured a cup of milk for Jack and found some crayons, bought weeks ago for just this possibility, for him to color with.
They sat on the couch, watching Jack as he lay on the floor coloring. They didn't talk for a long time, but Emily felt comfortable like this. If they didn't talk about this, if they didn't acknowledge it, it didn't have to be real. They didn't have to break the rules if they just pretended neither of them felt what was growing between them.
In fact she felt a thrill of panic go through her when she heard Hotch draw in a long, slow breath. Don't, she wanted to say. Don't say it, don't admit it. Don't change things. But it was ridiculous, because of course she wanted more than this. She just wasn't sure she could have it.
"Emily," he said softly. "There were three tickets."
On the carpet, Jack kept coloring, blissfully ignorant of the fact that his father was reshaping Emily's world with those words. Emily envied him. She took a shaky breath.
"I hoped you and Jack would go with me," she replied, and stopped.
Hotch didn't reply in words. Instead, after several heartbeats, his hand closed gently around Emily's where it rested between them on the couch.
Emily's heart sang.
***
She skipped Mother's Day. As much as she loved Jack, and as much as she was growing to love Aaron, it felt like it would be disrespectful to thrust herself into their lives on a day that rightfully belonged to a dead woman.
Originally she'd had a plan to give Jack something to help him remember his mother. She'd found a collage picture frame and had Garcia procure pictures of Haley. One of the pictures stunned her--it was a picture of Haley as Emily had never seen her, in a moment of pure joy. The most shocking aspect was the dyed dark hair that showed it was taken during the protective relocation. Emily looked down at the picture, shaken, and wondered if she were pursuing something that would end up breaking her heart. How could Aaron have not still loved Haley? And if he had still loved her, how could a few months between her death and now be enough for Emily to hope that anything could happen between them?
Easter hadn't been a turning point in Emily and Aaron's relationship. It had been an acknowledgement, rather, a hint that yes, this could become what they both seemed to feel. There had been more touches, moments when Emily felt comfortable leaning against Aaron, times when he took her hand as they walked. But he had never once touched her in a way that was truly inappropriate for a coworker or friend. He had never kissed her. Maybe Emily was deluding herself. Maybe she was reading too much into the fact that Aaron seemed to need her.
After a long while she'd put the pictures away in a drawer and went out for a long, hard run that left her exhausted and unable to think too much.
***
Father's Day was a different story. June in Virginia was a beautiful month. The humidity hadn't trickled in yet but the temperatures were in the seventies and eighties and the sun was a near-constant companion. Emily took Jack shopping one afternoon and they found presents Aaron would like--a "Superhero Dad" t-shirt from Jack and a baseball retrospective coffee table book from Emily. The next day she packed a picnic lunch and the three of them went to Hidden Pond Park for a picnic. There was a playground and a nature center for Jack, and Emily had brought a bottle of champagne for after Jack wore himself out and they could all relax. She spread out a blanket and lay on the grass in a tank top and shorts, watching Jack and Aaron playing.
Her chest ached. This was what she wanted, a family of her own, to be needed and helpful and steady. But she couldn't help thinking that sometimes it would be nice to be wanted, too.
Aaron was doing better. Everyone on the team agreed, and the first time Emily had met Sean, he had even told her he thought Aaron's improving state of mind was mostly thanks to her. "It does him good to be reminded he doesn't have to be perfect to be happy," Sean had said. Emily had understood; it had taken her years to learn that lesson herself, after living in the shadow of her mother's stellar career. And as Aaron's state of mind improved, Emily kept thinking that maybe soon he would look at her with desire instead of appreciation. But it never happened.
Emily closed her eyes against the sudden stinging in them. It didn't matter. If nothing else, Jack seemed to have come through the loss of his mother as reasonably happy and healthy as any four-year-old could be. She would be grateful for that. She listened to the gleeful shrieking of a little boy and his father playing tag, enjoyed the calls of blue jays from the nearby trees, and relished the sunlight against her eyelids.
"Shhh, Miss Em'ly's asleep," Jack whispered. Emily tried to open her eyes, but they were so heavy, and she felt so content.
"We'll wake her up," Aaron replied, his voice a pleasant rumble. Emily loved listening to him talk. She drew in a long breath.
"You just did, Daddy." Jack's voice was reproachful. Emily smiled faintly.
"Wake up, Sleepyhead." The unguarded affection in Aaron's voice made Emily open her eyes. She held up a hand to block the sun, smiling up at him. Aaron was wearing jeans and the t-shirt from Jack, and even though she'd seen him dressed casually more often in the past six months, Emily's heart jumped into a funny pitter-patter of pure wanting as he smiled back down at her.
"Jack thought we should make sure you weren't bored," Aaron told her.
Emily sat up. "I was relaxing, not bored." She looked at Jack, who was balancing on one foot and watching her. "You're not bored are you, kiddo?"
He started to shake his head, but Emily reached out and grabbed him, tugging him close and tickling him. It brought shrieks of laughter as he squirmed to escape. Emily didn't let him, but she quit tickling in favor of dropping kisses on both cheeks and his forehead. Jack grinned up at her and wrapped his arms around her neck.
"I love you, Miss Em'ly," he said, and Emily felt tears flood her eyes. She held him tightly and squeezed her eyes shut.
"I love you too, Jack," she whispered back. "I love you too."
***
"Emily, do you have a minute?"
Dave's voice brought her out of a case involving peeping toms and fetish burglaries. She shook off the idea of a serial rapist getting started and shrugged. "Sure, let me save this."
She saved and closed the file she was working in, then went up to his office. He indicated that she should close the door behind her, which was a surprise. But she did so and took a seat across from him. He held out a Coke that he must have gotten from the vending machine downstairs--the one on their floor was still broken. Emily's brows drew together. He was prepping her for something. What was going on?
"Aaron's looking good," he said, popping open his own can of Coke. "Eight months after Foyet killed Haley, he's smiling again--more than he used to--and leaving work at a reasonable hour most nights. He still has his moments, sure, but I think he's made great progress."
Emily opened her Coke and took a long sip. "He's got a good team," she said, hoping she sounded normal.
"He's got you," Dave countered. He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "So why have you got shadows under your eyes and a sad expression when you think no one's looking? Is this not what you wanted?"
She went still. Count on Dave Rossi to get right to the center of the matter, even if it took a punch to the gut to do it. The Coke can made a crinkly noise and she carefully loosened her grip a little and took a sip.
"I don't get it," Dave continued when she didn't speak. "You've always liked and admired Aaron, that much is obvious. There's been respect between you two as long as I've known you. You support him a hundred percent, you don't question him, you defend him to others. Hell, you even resigned from the FBI out of your loyalty to him."
Emily took another sip of her Coke and wished Dave had at least had the decency to do this with whiskey instead of soda.
Dave waved a hand. "All of that could be explained away as the loyalty and affection between close colleagues. Even the way you've tried to help Jack could be that. But not the way you've looked at him since Foyet attacked him. Not the way you hovered throughout Aaron's recovery. Not the way you looked at people who might criticize him like you were sizing them up for evisceration. You're in love with the man, Emily. So why the hell don't you do something about it?"
She wondered sometimes what this job was doing to them. She felt her throat tighten but her eyes didn't prickle with tears, even though she felt like crying. "He doesn't want me, Rossi," she said quietly. "He needs me. And that's okay. I'm fine with that. I just...have to adjust, that's all." She looked down at the desktop between them, nodding to reassure them both. "I just have to get used to thinking of things between me and Aa--Hotch as something convenient because he needs me for Jack."
"For Jack?" Dave exploded. "For Christ's sake, woman, are you so in love with your God-damned compartmentalization that you can't see what's in front of your face? Aaron doesn't know how to do this! He was eighteen the last time he wooed a woman, and now he's a widower with a young son and a demanding career--a demanding career, by the way, that ended his last marriage. And now he's dealing with a ridiculous kaleidoscope of feelings for this amazing, intelligent woman who has always been just a friend and colleague, and is suddenly the only woman he can see. You need to help him out a little."
She licked her lips, trying to process what Dave was saying. "What do you mean?"
"You guys took Jack to the National Harbor fireworks festival, right?"
Emily nodded, watching Dave. "He had a great time. There was a kid's area with rides and face painting and carnival games--"
"And what did you and Aaron do?" Dave interrupted.
Emily blinked for a moment, then smiled, remembering. "I went on the rides with Jack and Aaron won him a stuffed alligator in the ring-toss. We ate cotton candy and Jack and I got matching lions painted on our cheeks." She laughed. "Aaron wouldn't let them paint his face."
Dave nodded. He was looking at Emily like she should understand his point. Finally he shook his head in exasperation. "Emily, you're being parents. You and Aaron haven't taken any time to figure out the part where you're crazy about each other. You've spent all your time focused on Jack, and that's not a bad thing, but it's also not going to get the two of you in bed with each other."
"Oh my God," she blurted, her cheeks going hot at the blunt way Dave said that...and hotter still at the way he smirked in response. "You're such a jackass."
"You love me for it," Dave said. He looked altogether too comfortably smug about all this. "Now. Marching orders. Jessica is keeping Jack for the next week. You're going to go home and pack, as is Aaron. Tomorrow you're going to show up at seven here--I took the liberty of making reservations, including dinner reservations at the 1766 Grille." He held out a card. "There will be roses and champagne and chocolate, and JJ is already under orders not to call if there's a case."
Emily looked at the card, swallowing when she saw that it was a gift card for The Homestead, a posh and very traditionally Southern resort four hours away in the Alleghenies. "You don't do anything halfway, do you?" she asked quietly.
"Not when it comes to the happiness of two people I care very much about," Dave replied. "Now go on. I've still gotta get Aaron in here for a lecture. Go home and pack. I'm sure he'll call you later."
Aaron didn't call later. Instead, as Emily was still waffling over which two of her four favorite dresses to take, someone knocked on her door. She was in jeans and a tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was probably a mess. She sucked in a breath and ran down the stairs to answer it.
Aaron was alone, a bouquet of mixed flowers clutched in his hand. He was wearing khakis and a navy t-shirt. To Emily's astonishment, he almost looked scared.
"I don't know how to do this," he blurted, looking at her.
Emily stared at the flowers, then up at him. She felt a smile spread across her face. Had it really been this easy all along? "This is a really great start," she said, taking the flowers. She curled her other hand around his, pulling him into the apartment. As soon as he closed the door behind him, she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She pressed her forehead against his jaw, drinking in the scent of him. His arms closed around her, gentle and strong.
"I couldn't believe Dave when he said..." Aaron murmured.
"What?" she prompted, lifting her head to look at him.
"You...don't just want Jack?" he said hesitantly. "You want me too?"
It was heart-breaking, the way he looked as if a coveted prize was within reach, but he still expected to have it snatched away from him. She nodded slowly and blinked hard at the way her eyes were stinging.
"Aaron, yes," she whispered, and lifted her face to his.
She'd loved Aaron Hotchner for years, for what felt like a lifetime, and not long enough. As their lips met, a rush of heat went through her and she whimpered against his mouth. His lips were firm and gentle, but she didn't want firm and gentle--she wanted want. She parted her lips against his, the fingers of her free hand slipping into his hair and urging more from him. As their tongues slipped against each other, she gripped the flowers too tight and felt stems poking her palm, but she didn't want to stop, not even long enough to put the flowers in water. She wanted his hands on her and his mouth on her, and she wanted to make him understand that this wasn't just about Jack. This had never been just about Jack, not even when she'd pretended to herself that it was.
He was mumbling something against her lips and she finally realized it was "Beautiful, so beautiful," over and over. His hands went to her hips and lifted, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her to the couch. Then her shirt was open and his hands were in her hair and his mouth was skating along the top of her bra, and the flowers hit the floor just before she tugged his shirt up over his head.
This, she thought, is a great way to start our vacation. And then she stopped thinking altogether.
