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Hotch and Emily
53 weeks ago
When it happens, it surprises them both. There's always been a hint of something between Hotch and Emily, lingering glances and subtle touches, a smile he reserves only for her. But with their jobs and matching tendencies to close themselves off, it's a complication that neither of them need in their lives, so they ignore it and pretend it'll go away eventually.
It's at their hotel bar in Miami that their resolve eventually crumbles, their inhibitions melted away with the help of a few beers after the rest of the team had wandered off to bed. They're far from drunk, but the buzz they're both feeling, coupled with the exhaustion of the case, weakens the barriers they've long held in place.
Emily's looking at him curiously, not into his face but just beyond and Hotch can't figure out what she's so intrigued by.
''I like your cowlick,'' she tells him in complete seriousness.
''My what?'' Hotch asks in bemused confusion at her declaration.
Emily points to the top of her own head, and he awkwardly reaches up and smooths the dark hair that spikes wildly from his crown.
''Oh that,'' he mumbles, taken off guard by the random personal commentary Prentiss is offering her boss at this time of night.
''I mean, you're so...you know...''
''So what?'' he asks with a raise of his brow.
''So...Hotch, you know?'' Emily says as she gestures wildly, ''Serious. Intimidating.''
''You've never seemed very intimidated by me,'' he replies, his awkward confusion slowly being replaced by amusement at her oddly endearing ramblings.
She smiles at that, as her gaze returns to his hair.
''It's the cowlick!'' Emily declares, ''It's just so....''
Hotch scowls in anticipation of what she's going to say, and the word cute dies on her lips.
''Never mind,'' she says with a grin, turning her attention back to her beer.
They're quiet for a few moments, Hotch trying to hide a smile, and Emily trying to push down her desire to touch said cowlick. Her eyes wander back to it and she lets out a chuckle.
''It just has a life of its own doesn't it?'' Emily teases, reaching for the unruly hair in an attempt to smooth it down.
Hotch moves to stop her, grabbing hold of her wrist as he breaks into laughter despite himself, and suddenly they're closer than they've ever been before. They move at the same moment, their lips finding each other and the world disappearing around them.
''Emily,'' Hotch murmurs, peppering slow kisses down her neck as he presses her against the wall of the alcove they've slipped into on the way back to their rooms.
''I know,'' she breathes, before pressing her lips firmly to his.
''We have to stop,'' he says into the kiss, even though the words are killing him.
''I know,'' Emily whispers again, before he presses a final kiss to her lips and grudgingly pulls away. She fixes her shirt and hair, wipes the lipstick from the corner of his mouth, and smooths that damn cowlick.
They reluctantly say goodnight, and head back to their respective rooms, dazed and more than a little frustrated. They both want this, that much is clear, but they can't.
Their resolve lasts a week, and suddenly they've become something – spending time together outside of work, calling each other every night, and sneaking around hotel rooms across the country. It has to stay a secret, of course it does. Unfortunately, it won't be a secret for long.
Morgan
41 weeks ago
It's Morgan who clues in first.
''So much for my non-refundable Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,'' Prentiss complains as the BAU team is called in for a last minute case on a Friday.
''Sin to Win?'' Derek repeats, intrigued.
''Yeah,'' Emily smirks, ''And I always win big.''
Morgan's forgotten about it by the time they hit the ground in Tallahassee, his thoughts taken over by the suicide of a prolific serial killer and their mission to rescue his final captive alive.
The case over and Rebecca Daniels safe and sound, the team hops the jet back to Quantico. Prentiss and Reid start a game of poker, and it's then their earlier conversation comes back to him.
''Hey Prentiss, Sin to Win,'' Derek calls to her over the back of Reid's seat.
''I'm sorry, what?'' Emily asks, shifting in her seat, confusion in her eyes at his question.
''I have to know.''
''Derek, I have an incredible amount of respect for you,'' Emily tells him with a mocking edge in her tone, ''But there are some questions, that if you have to ask...it means you probably couldn't handle the answer.''
She rises from her spot across from Reid, and Morgan watches her make her way up the aisle past Hotch, who's smirking in his seat.
Derek thinks nothing more of it until they're back in the BAU, wrapping up the paperwork. He's passing by Hotch's office, where he can hear him on the phone through the slightly open door.
''Sorry about our trip,'' he's saying in a tone that makes it very clear he's not talking to his son, ''I'll make it up to you.''
Morgan stops in his tracks despite himself, intrigued at the possibility that his boss is seeing someone – someone serious enough that they're planning a weekend getaway together.
''What is a Sin to Win weekend anyway?'' Hotch asks, and Derek whips his head around to see Prentiss on her own phone, her lips turned up in a wicked smile.
Click.
JJ
40 weeks ago
''Are you gonna call him?'' JJ asks as she and Emily nurse their coffees on their way to meet Penelope, their Girls Day in DC winding down.
''Maybe,'' replies Emily with a shrug, prompting JJ to let out a groan of frustration, ''Mick Rawson is an arrogant, oversexed, egotistical -''
''Hot British dude with a sexy accent, badge and gun,'' Jennifer interrupts, ''Just your type.''
JJ doesn't get it.
Mick Rawson seems like exactly who Emily would go for. She watched him flirt with her throughout the case in San Francisco, and Emily seemed to give as good as she got. He's single, she's single, and it's been a while since her friend's been on any kind of date. So one would think that she would be eager to to at least give Rawson a shot.
''It wouldn't go anywhere,'' Emily insists, ''With our work schedules -''
''Will and I make it work,'' JJ reminds her.
Emily falls quiet, and it seems like she's about to say something, something she's hesitating to share, when they catch sight of Garcia, her arms loaded with shopping bags.
The thought comes back to JJ later that night as she lies in bed in the Tavern Inn in Franklin, Alaska, Emily asleep in the adjacent twin bed.
What was Emily's objection to dating Rawson anyway? She would get it if they didn't get along so well, but at the party after the case, she'd brought him a beer and chatted with him. Everyone seemed to like Mick Rawson – well, maybe not Hotch. He'd just watched Mick and Emily talk with a glare on his face, a glare which, come to think of it, held a different vibe than his usual scowl. A scowl which disappeared when Emily had touched Hotch's arm later in the evening and whispered a few words in his ear...
Click.
Rossi
17 weeks ago
It doesn't take something tangible for Rossi to catch on. He's known for a while there's a connection between Hotch and Emily – he saw it in when she gently took hold of his elbows in the graveyard in Ohio when his ruptured eardrums had him in agony, in the helpless terror in Hotch's face when Emily was being beaten in Colorado, his inability to remain objective clear.
Rossi also knows that they're both dedicated to their jobs and not the most forthcoming when it comes to their emotions, and he'd known then that line hasn't been crossed. But the notion is there, at the back of his mind, for years. So when the day comes, he sees it and just knows.
They're on the jet on Devil's Night, on their way back to Quantico from stopping Kamon Scott and his penchant for burning people alive. It's been a hectic case, and Hotch was beyond determined to stop Kamon from killing his ex-girlfriend and her family. He had not only run into a burning building on the brink of exploding, but not half an hour later, he'd walked straight into a hostage situation, with Kamon Scott holding a welding torch over a kitchen soaked in gasoline.
There's nothing overt about the way they're interacting. Anyone on the outside looking in would observe the situation as a friend concerned about another. They're alone, in a corner of the jet, the others asleep or distracted, and they're talking quietly. Rossi can't hear what they're saying, but he can see them both quite clearly. There's a fear in Emily's eyes, a quiet anger. And in Aaron's – apology, regret, an acknowledgement of her fear at the risks he'd taken. There's no physical contact between them, but to David Rossi the message is clear. It's not just a connection anymore, but a commitment.
Click.
Penelope
4 weeks ago
''I'm a little tired,'' Emily tells Penelope, as they share a morning greeting in the BAU's bullpen, ''I went salsa dancing last night.''
''Oh my God, like I need another reason to find you amazing,'' gushes Garcia.
It seems as though Emily is always trying something new and as much as she loves her safe and comfortable hobbies, Penelope can't help but be a little envious.
''Who'd you go with? A date? A hot Latino date? Ugh, please Emily, I need to live vicariously through you.''
Emily just laughs as they arrive in the conference room for the morning briefing.
The afternoon drags on, and Garcia heads to Hotchner's office to drop off some technical reports he'd asked for. She's giving him the rundown when Hotch breaks into a yawn.
''Sorry,'' he says from behind his hand, ''Guess I need another coffee.''
''Late night, sir?'' Penelope jokes, before clearing her throat and laughing nervously at the scowl he sends her way, ''I'll just...leave these here,'' she babbles, setting the files on his desk, but knocking a pile of others to the ground in the process.
''I've got it! Sorry sir!'' says Garcia, flinging herself to her knees and picking up the fallen paperwork. She stops short at a colourful flyer that's come loose from under the pile.
SALSA NIGHT AT CLUB FUEGO, it reads, with yesterday's date printed across the bottom.
Penelope scrambles to shove the brochure under the stack of files, which she returns to the desk before hightailing it out of Hotch's office.
Aaron Hotchner? Salsa dancing? In what world would he ever -
Click.
The Team
March 2011 – Present Day
''This is where you snuck off to,'' says Hotch with a smile as he finds Emily in Rossi's library.
''Dave said I could borrow whatever books I wanted,'' Emily replies as she scans the shelves, ''He has an amazing collection.''
Hotch crosses the library and slides his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.
''It's killing me to keep my hands off you out there, you know that?''
''I have some idea,'' Emily grins as she turns to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling Hotch into a kiss she's been waiting for all night.
''Well hello,'' comes a voice, and Hotch and Emily jump apart like they've been burned. They turn around to find the entire team in the library's doorway, looking far more amused than they should.
''Shit,'' mutters Emily, throwing a glance to Hotch, who's looking just as awkward as she feels.
''Guys,'' says Morgan with a laugh, ''You know we already knew, right? For FBI agents you're not great at keeping low profile.''
''Wait, what?'' says Reid suddenly, looking between Hotch and Emily and the rest of the team.
''How could you of all people not know?'' laughs Emily.
Reid seems to draw a blank as he looks to her and Hotch wide-eyed.
''I didn't... '' he begins, before his brow crinkles in thought.
Reid
43 weeks ago
''Emily!'' calls Reid, when he spots Prentiss down the hotel hallway, and she jumps a mile.
''Sorry I startled you,'' Spencer apologizes with a smile, ''Guess I shouldn't sneak up on people in our line of work.''
''No worries,'' Emily replies with a smile of her own, as she moves to head past him.
''You can't sleep either?'' Reid asks, before realizing where she's just come from, ''What are you doing in Hotch's room?''
''Files,'' Emily says quickly, before clearing her throat, ''Hotch just needed the uh – files, for tomorrow's profile.''
''Oh right,'' nods Reid, and continues on his way.
Emily raises her brows expectantly.
''You weren't dropping off files,'' Spencer mutters, as the team exchange glances and suppress amused smiles.
''Reid,'' smirks Emily, throwing an arm around his shoulders, ''It was four in the morning.''
Click.