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Hotch tilted Emily’s head a little to the right so he could get to his favorite spot on her neck. It was definitely her sweet spot. He licked it, nipped it, and sucked it; Emily groaned and gripped his hips. Victory was his; Hotch wanted to indulge in the spoils.
“Hotch, c'mon, you know I love this show.” She said.
“Yes, I believe you called it a fascinating character study.” He didn’t look up from her neck.
“I bet you don’t even know what we’re watching.”
“You’re such a beautiful woman, Emily. I don’t know if I tell you that enough but it’s true. You smell fantastic; you always smell fantastic.”
“I pride myself on my hygiene. You’ve been down there a while Secret Agent Man. If you leave any marks you’ll be on punishment again.”
“No marks, I promise.”
Emily smiled. She took his face in her hands, managing to pull him away from her neck. She loved the look in Hotch’s eyes…he could never hide his desire from her.
“I'm not going to be able to finish watching this, am I?”
“I’ll give you the 60 second commentary since practically every episode is the same. Not Morgan is going to fall into bed with Not Emily after getting his ass handed to him by Not Strauss over the Crawford case. The next morning his estranged wife will show up in an attempt to reconcile, which will be quickly dashed when Not Emily answers the door. Oh, and Not Hotch got the divorce papers as well as the information on his late father’s mistress who might be his real mother.”
“Tell me more; I'm intrigued.”
“Not Reid probably has the clap. Not Rossi hit that kid when he was driving drunk and Not JJ is considering breaking up with Not Jordan and revealing her true feelings for Not Garcia, who is getting chummy with Not Kevin.”
“She and Not Jordan aren’t really together.” Emily replied.
“They slept together last week in Minneapolis. Remember she whispered Not Garcia’s name.” Hotch said.
“Oh my God, that’s right.”
“This show is awful.”
“Its not.” She playfully slapped Hotch’s chest. “Its just melodrama, Hotch.”
“The worst part of all is that the cases are compelling. If they spent less time in the bedroom and more in the field, it could be great. This serial killer, The Slayer, I really like that storyline.”
“I think it could be Stephen, Not JJ’s kinda unstable half-brother.”
“Me too. See,” Hotch grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “You know more than you think you do. You don’t even need to watch tonight.”
“You are so lucky the DVR is set, mister.” Emily mumbled before his mouth covered hers. “Wait…Not Jordan and Not JJ won't work at all. Not Strauss has had her eye on Not Jordan since late last season.”
“That’s why I think it’s just a distraction. Speaking of distraction…” Hotch toyed with the string on her lounge pants.
“Were we?” Emily raised her eyebrow.
“I was progressing quickly to not speaking at all.”
“You're a randy devil, Aaron Hotchner. No one would believe me if I told them.” Emily’s hand slid into his sweats. She smiled when his hips bucked and a low groan escaped his diaphragm.
“Mmm, baby,” he closed his eyes.
“You like that, Secret Agent Man?”
“Yeah…ohhh yeah. Why don’t you…?”
His thought was interrupted by Emily’s cell hone. She answered it with her free hand.
“Hello,”
“Oh my God, do you think Palmieri killed himself?”
“What!”
Emily sat up on the couch, losing all intimate contact with Hotch. His sigh was heavy as he moved away.
“Tell me you were watching.” Jordan said.
“I was…Hotch just turned it off.”
“Palmieri spit out an Upton Sinclair quote and put the .22 to his head.”
“What happened?” Emily asked.
“I think Pres is putting two and two together on the hit and run. He’s going to lose everything. He just got his life back on track.”
“I don’t think that Palmieri hit that kid.” Emily replied. “They only showed him after hitting the light pole.”
“He was on Potomac though, and the hit and run was on Potomac. Oh, and Roman went to Audrina’s salon and told her that Trish stayed the night but that nothing happened. He said she’s going to have to get used to his female friends if they're going to reconcile.”
“I think Roman should drop her….their relationship is not healthy. With his job he needs someone supportive at home. He was there for her during all of her BS with Charlie.”
Hotch sighed, climbing off the couch. He pointed to the stairs; Emily nodded, and went back to her phone call.
“Jordan, you have to give me a blow by blow of the Pres and Palmieri scene. I'm so glad the DVR is on. The season finale is next week…I can't afford to miss a second. Did…hold on, that’s my other line.” Emily clicked over. “Hey there.”
“The black screen and gunshot ploy is one of the oldest in the book.” Rossi said. “Palmieri is not dead.”
“I missed it.”
“What?”
“I know, I know. I got Jordan on the other line. Hold on, I'm going to put you on conference with Jordan, OK?”
“Sure.”
“Jordan, I have Dave on the line.”
“Hey, Dave.”
“Hey kid, how have you been?”
“You guys can catch up later.” Emily said. “I need to know what happened with Pres and Palmieri.”
“How did you miss it?” Dave asked.
“Hotch wanted to watch something else.”
“What? It’s Sunday night.”
“Dave, stop asking so many questions.” Jordan replied laughing.
“I think I will.” He said. “Palmieri is not dead; the character is too popular. I think Jack Scalia is a shoo-in for an Emmy nod this year. The first season they were snubbed but this year the ratings are through the roof.”
“Did you get a chance to go on youtube, Em?” Jordan asked. “The fanvids are getting better.”
“What's a fanvid?” Dave asked.
“Fans of certain pairings make videos to songs and post them on Youtube.” Jordan told him. “The Pres/Palmieri video for Recover Your Soul almost moved me to tears.”
“I’d like to see that.” Dave said. “Wait, Pres and Palmieri…together?”
“Go to Youtube.com and type in Palmieri. You'll get an eyeful, Rossi. Welcome to fandom…it can be a scary and beautiful place.”
“I want to know what happened on the show tonight, guys.” Emily said. “Not that I want to interrupt the love fest.”
“You should watch it tomorrow.” Rossi said. “Telling you too much will just ruin things. Let me just say that there will surely be more next season about Trish and Chet’s father. That’s going to be interesting. That woman fascinates me.”
“Thank you.” Emily said. “Does Chet have the clap? That’s what Hotch told me.”
“No,” Jordan replied. “I think he was pulling your leg because he hates the show.”
“He doesn’t hate it.” Dave said. “We’ve had some really good discussions about The Slayer story arc. I wish Josh Brolin was playing me every week. He looks good, even with the graying temples.”
“He thinks it turns the BAU into a joke.” Emily replied. “He admits the cases are compelling but the rest is garbage and fluff.”
“Of course its fluff; you won't find much more on TV. I can say that Palmieri definitely gets laid more than I ever did…even during my glory days. What's this about a thing with him and Pres?”
“I’ll fill you in later, Dave.” Jordan said.
“I better go guys; I promise to watch tomorrow. Jordan, lets do lunch on Tuesday.”
“That sounds good to me. I’ll see you then. Goodnight, Dave.”
“Goodnight, Jordan.”
“Goodnight.” Emily said. “Goodnight, Dave.”
“Goodnight, Em.”
She hung up her cell phone and fell into a fit of giggles. It had been a while since she had a full-blown conference call on the phone just blabbing about a favorite show. It reminded her of talking to her sister Julia after she went away to college. She’d call home and they would go for hours about movies, boys, and life in general. As Emily got up from the couch, she added calling her sister to the list of things to do tomorrow.
She went to the kitchen and put the teakettle on. After a few minutes of debate she decided not to have a late night snack. She poured herself a cup of blackberry tea and went upstairs. A quick check in their bedrooms saw six year old Jack and 16 month old Sabrina were sound asleep. In the master bedroom, Hotch lay in bed reading The Thin Man.
“Are you upset with me?” she asked, leaning on the doorframe.
“Absolutely, positively not.” He didn’t look up from his book.
“Aaron…”
“I'm not.” He looked up. “You like the show, there is nothing wrong with that. Guilty pleasures make us happy. My libido was a bit slighted by my ego is intact.”
“Rossi said you should be happy that Josh Brolin plays you every week.”
“Jack Preston is not me, though I find it slightly disturbing that he has my son’s name and my stepfather’s last name. Anyway, it’s not like Rossi is doing so bad; he has Jack Scalia. He’s lost a little weight and doesn’t look as if he’s had much work done.”
Emily laughed. She put her tea on the nightstand, climbed into her husband’s lap, and took his book.
“You should get more of a kick out of BSU.” She said.
“No thanks.” Hotch caressed her hips. “I can admit to enjoying your enjoyment of it. When you love something your eyes sparkle and you get giddy…I find that unbearably sexy.”
Emily grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hotch stroked her back.
“I love you,”
“I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner.”
“Mmm, nope, I love you more.” She kissed him.
“I think you love BSU the most.” He replied.
“Oh stop it.” Emily slapped his chest. Hotch pulled her close, kissing her neck. She moaned softly. “I have a question.”
“Right now?” he mumbled.
“Mmm hmm.”
“OK, shoot.”
“Rossi said he never got as much as Palmieri, not even in his glory days.”
“That’s a boldfaced lie. Rossi was, is, very popular with the ladies. Between wives he didn’t have many lonely nights. He’s quite modest sometimes.”
“No he’s not.” Emily laughed.
“Instead of talking about Rossi’s love life, or Palmieri’s for that matter, I would like to have a discussion about mine.”
“Are you not satisfied, SSA Hotchner?”
“Oh,” he flipped them on the bed, kissing Emily passionately as her back hit the mattress. “On the contrary, I am a content man. My wife is quite satisfied and satisfying.”
“Oh yeah.” she grabbed the back of his tee shirt, pulling it over his head.
“You love me, baby?”
“I love you with all my heart.”
“Forever?” Hotch unbuttoned her shirt and spread it open.
“Longer; that’s a promise.” She kissed his nose. It was nice to know he hadn’t cooled off a single degree since their interruption. Emily’s hands ran over his shoulder blades and his back. “I love your body.” She mumbled between kisses.
“Ditto. I’d like to stop talking now.”
“You know that’s exactly what Pres said to his soon-to-be ex-wife three weeks ago.”
“Oh dear God,” Hotch rolled his eyes.
Emily giggled and threw the covers over them.