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The rain in Louisiana starts to pour heavily, the droplets sliding down the glass windows of the precinct in the little, coastline town that they are in, investigating a serial killer rampaging through its sandy streets.
“Did you know that Louisiana is recorded to have the highest precipitation among all the states? It’s especially because of how close it is to the Gulf of Mexico, which by the way– Ow!” Reid starts to ramble, yelping when he is cut off by a flick to his head by Morgan’s fingers.
“Morgan, Reid,” Aaron chides gently before clearing his throat, eyeing his agents. “I hope everyone brought something warm. We have to get out to the abduction site before the rain washes anything away.”
“I’m not going out there in this weather,” Dave says immediately, raising an eyebrow at Aaron. “This is new leather.”
Aaron doesn’t want to send a pregnant JJ out into the windy, rainy storm, and Morgan and Reid seem just as loath to do it, and he sighs in defeat.
“Prentiss and I will go and the rest of you can stay here and work victimology.” Aaron says finally and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Morgan offer Reid a fist bump.
Aaron gives Emily a small smile as she gets up from the chair she’d been sitting in, pulling slightly at the sleeves of the shirt she’s wearing, a deep purple that highlights the gold flecks in her eyes.
He immediately notices that the purple is almost the exact shade of his tie, and he tugs on his own unconsciously, straightening the already perfectly straight silk.
They’ve reached a tentative friendship over the course of the past few months, after he had seeked her out to ask her to come back to the BAU with him, and the beginning foundation of trust began to build between them.
A late night at the BAU after he had signed the divorce papers with Haley had her opening a bottle of expensive wine from Dave’s office, pouring him a glass, and they spend the night with her kicking off her shoes and curling up on the couch in his office while he sits at his desk.
They share stories, him talking about Jack and her spinning tales about her time in college, and the picture of Emily in short glittery dresses, red painted lips to match the red bottoms of her heels is engraved in his mind. She draws laughs out of him and a warm feeling simmers deep in his chest when he is able to make her giggle, her smile stretched across her face beautifully.
He shared his worries about raising Jack in a broken household, that he wishes he would’ve done something more. Emily talks about her own parents and her struggles growing up, and they reassure each other, a quick hug from her before they part ways for the evening.
Aaron had found he felt marginally better after that, and suddenly found himself seeking Emily out, pairing together on cases, refilling the Splenda in the office kitchenette whenever he noticed the jar was running low. In return, she gives him that brilliant smile, sits next to him on the jet, her perfume gently wafting around him, and fawns over the pictures of Jack that he shows her.
They don’t mention that night, but Aaron thinks about it, thinks about how he notices Emily more, how he sees her out of the corner of his eye.
The feeling swirling in his chest is something he doesn’t want to name, as he thinks about her and the slope of her nose, the way her dark hair falls slightly in front of the angles of her beautiful face, and her intelligence and charming wit.
Aaron shakes his thoughts away as he grabs his windbreaker off of another chair, shrugging it on and he pauses as he watches as Emily turns to the door without moving to put on something warmer.
He remembers that night again, where she had shivered despite the alcohol warming their insides and the windows and door being closed in the office. He had dug out a blanket that he kept in one of his drawers and she had wrapped herself up with it, satisfied at whatever warmth she felt.
“You don’t have a jacket, Prentiss?”
Her teeth chatter in response as she shakes her head, mumbling, “I have a coat, but not for the rain.”
“Take my windbreaker then,” He offers, to the team’s surprise and raised eyebrows. He takes the article of clothing off, handing it to her, and she takes it from him with a slight blush painting her cheeks.
“Won’t you be cold?”
“No, I run warm,” He grabs an umbrella from the table, holding it up. “And we can still stay dry.”
Emily laughs lightly as they step out of the precinct, Aaron holding the umbrella up over her as they step around puddles to the SUV, and he keeps the umbrella suspended over her as he opens the passenger door, waiting til she’s settled inside before shutting the door.
In the SUV, he turns up the heat and glances at her before driving, at the way the windbreaker engulfs her frame, the large yellow letters spelling out “FBI” etched across the back.
It reminds him of Haley, how she used to wear his varsity letterman and he feels a slight pang in his chest that is quickly washed away when Emily returns his gaze, steady as she smirks at him.
“What? Did you want it back?”
“No, Em,” He mutters, the nickname slipping out easily. “You can keep it.”
So she does, and Aaron tries to stamp down the feeling, the fuzziness that billows up in his chest when she wears it during the case, the sleeves just large enough to cover the tips of her fingers. She only takes it off during the takedown and even while it’s no longer raining heavily, she keeps it on, the front unzipped just enough to show the purple fabric underneath, to show the slight expanse of pale skin and collarbone.
Aaron lets her keep it, even after the case wraps up, and he sees it appear whenever they go somewhere where the forecast is rainy and stormy, the bright yellow of the letters catching his eyesight.
After the explosion, she drives him to and from the office and his apartment, and one night it is raining in their city, and when he comes out of his office, he finds her waiting at her desk with his windbreaker wrapped around her shoulders.
“It looks like it’s going to storm this week.” She says casually, keys dangling from her fingers as they wait in the elevator.
Aaron hums. “Good thing you have a nice jacket to keep you dry.”
She winks at him before she steps off the elevator, leading him to her car, and when he sits in the passenger seat, he realizes how largely he is smiling, his dimples deep in his cheeks.
It is then when he realizes that Emily has become somewhat of a permanent fixture in his life, one of the few people who can coax a wide smile from his face, a laugh pulled deep from his belly.
Then Colorado happens, the compound where he rips the headphones off of his ears, his heart pounding and pain squeezing around it as he hears Emily’s cries, the grunts as she is thrown against concrete.
A shattered mirror, heavy thuds where Cyrus’ heavy boot lands against her skin– he can’t take it the way she promises she can.
Dave and Morgan watch as he stomps off, paces the perimeter of their tent set-up, yells at some poor reporter who dropped some of their equipment near his foot.
His behavior is unnatural and uncontrolled, a stark contrast from the rigid composure he holds in their job, and Dave and Morgan share a glance while Aaron rubs his temples, jaw clenched tightly, and they know that he will not calm down until Emily is out of Cyrus’ reach.
So they wait, wait until they can’t hear anything anymore, and Aaron strains to listen, to make sure that nothing is going on that he doesn’t know of.
Later, he stands in front of the burning buildings, eyes scanning for her, and some sort of relief floods his chest when he spots her, and though she’s limping and she already looks littered in bruises, she emerges from the smoke.
He waits until the SWAT team clears the place, waits until the civilians are loaded up on stretchers and ambulances, waits until Emily finds Reid to hug him tightly, convinces him to go see one of the EMTs with Morgan.
Then he approaches her, already reaching out to give her a hug, to hold her elbows gently the same way she held his when his ears were ringing and screeching.
“Emily.”
“I’m okay.”
“The doctor at the hospital will ensure it.”
“Aaron, I really… I really don't want to go to a doctor right now,” She mumbles and Aaron sucks in a breath at how her bloodied face is illuminated by the flames. “They all touched me, and it was horrible–”
“Did they..?” Aaron lets the implication hang in the air, his grip on her elbows tightening slightly. His eyebrows are furrowed with barely hidden rage and she reaches up gingerly, smoothing the crease with the pad of her thumb.
“No. But I can’t– I can’t be alone with–” She trails off, a tear spilling down her cheek, and Aaron rubs a speck of dirt away from her cheek gently, wipes her tear with his thumb.
The moment of weakness from her is rare and he wants to cherish it, wants to cherish her and everything that she gives him, as painful as it is.
“I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise, Emily.”
She relents after a minute and he flashes the shaking EMT one of his infamously hard glares and his badge, Unit Chief glimmering back at him, in order to be let into the back of the ambulance with her, where he accepts a wet towel to help wipe her face and arms.
She’s shaking the entire ride to the hospital and her frown doesn’t let up from her face as the doctor shoos him out to wait in the hallway, only disappearing once Aaron is back in her line of sight, where he offers her a hoodie, worn letters across the front.
“George Washington University, huh?” Emily murmurs as she struggles to slip it on over her paper thin hospital gown. Aaron helps her into it, pulling her hair out from underneath. “Where’d you get this from?”
“I keep it in my go bag for when we go somewhere cold,” Aaron says softly, eyes scanning her, the sling on her arm and bandages and gauze carefully taped to her body, counting her injuries in his mind. “The doctor suggested you stay overnight and I told Dave to come drop it off for me.”
“Aaron,” She mutters, looking up at him with a curious glint in her eye. “I’m okay.”
“I wanted to go in, Dave wouldn’t let us.”
“You know what would’ve happened if you did,” Emily says, leaning her head back against the pillows. “I’m okay, Aaron. It’s part of the job. Just… stay here?”
“Absolutely.” Aaron drops it, her words soothing him, and he grabs one of the armchairs, pulling it to be next to her hospital bed. She smiles for the first time that day.
When Dave comes to check on the two of them, it’s to Emily with her eyes closed, her breath steady as she sleeps, and Aaron watching her diligently, one of his thumbs gently rubbing across her knuckles.
Emily doesn’t take that hoodie off, even when she is discharged and she is sitting in Aaron’s car as he drives her home. She keeps it on as he makes sure she has groceries in her fridge and pantry, keeps it on when he leaves and she curls up in her bed, the smell of his cologne and something uniquely him blanketing her.
She wears the hoodie around at home when she is lounging after one of their cases, as she is copying one of Dave’s recipes that he sends her to try, as she watches a show that she and the others are trying to keep up with.
She wears it as if it’s hers, the way she wears Aaron’s windbreaker, ignoring the gentle ribbing from the team and favoring the dimple that appears in Aaron’s cheek whenever he sees it on her.
She collects another jacket from Aaron on the case with the Viper, this one a dark navy blue with brown buttons.
When they first meet him, Emily blanches at the way Viper’s eyes track her frame, and she feels an itchiness drumming on her skin, goosebumps littering her arms. She feels Aaron hovering closely next to her, his eyes hard as he watches Viper, listens to the bullshit he rambles about.
They turn to walk back to the SUV, Aaron falling into step behind Emily to block her from Viper’s view. She glances back at him, a frown on her face.
“We’re not done with that sleazebag, are we?”
“No, Em, we’re just getting started.”
Ultimately, they decide that it should be Emily to be the one to bait Viper and Aaron approaches her as she’s getting ready, standing awkwardly as he watches her unclasp her earrings and put them into a little Ziploc bag in the locker.
It’s not scandalous by any means, but Aaron’s eyes track her hands, track her slight movements as she gets ready, looking at herself in the little mirror and applying some sort of powder to her face.
The little black dress she’s wearing isn’t scandalous either, fit for fieldwork as an FBI agent, but Aaron’s blush intensifies as he sees her in it, the off the shoulder design highlighting her collarbone and the dress just barely brushing her knees.
He wonders if the heels she’s wearing have red bottoms, like the ones she’s talked about in her stories as a young, rebellious twenty-something year old.
“I’ll be in the van outside the club the entire time, Emily.” Aaron says and she smirks.
“Glad to know you have mine and Jordan’s backs.”
She shoos him out of the locker room so that she can finish and when she reemerges, Morgan whistles and even Reid’s cheeks gain a pink hue.
Jealousy comes out of nowhere for Aaron and flares in his chest, and he tries to hide a smug smile when Emily flicks Morgan’s head and pinches Reid’s cheek before accepting his hand to help her into the SUV. He helps Jordan into the back, but his fingers don’t linger on her the way they did with Emily, and his gaze doesn’t even try to stray away from the black haired woman sitting in the front.
Aaron listens intently to the conversation through the earpiece, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel while Dave sits in the passenger seat, an amused expression on his face.
“Never seen you so agitated before, Aaron.”
“If he tries anything, he’ll be in federal prison faster than anyone can blink.”
“I’m sure Jordan would be glad of that,” Dave snorts. “Emily would have already kicked him in the balls if he had tried anything.”
He’s not wrong and thankfully, it seems that Viper had met his match with Emily, and she and Jordan return to the van, still not quite close to catching their killer.
Emily shivers in the crisp night air of Atlanta as she gets in to sit in the back and Aaron spares a quick glance at her, clearing his throat to get her attention.
“I left a jacket back there for you.”
“You did?” Her voice is filled with curiosity, finding the rolled up denim in the seat next to hers. She picks it up, fingers running over the material, and she fights a smile as she unfolds it and slips it on, the jacket engulfing her body. She buttons it up, a satisfied smile appearing on her face as she catches her reflection in the window, as Jordan tells her that it looks pretty good on her.
“I run warm,” Aaron mutters half heartedly at Dave’s raised eyebrow. “I keep a spare jacket in my bag, but I usually don’t use it.”
“Right.”
It is obvious that Dave may not believe him, but Aaron ignores the older man’s smirk and focuses on driving them back to the station.
Aaron follows Emily down to the locker room again, where she gently admonishes him for how he’s handling Jordan. He sighs in defeat and promises her that he’ll be more mindful, then he gets distracted as she turns around suddenly.
“Can you help me?”
He doesn’t think he’s moved faster in his life.
And still, it’s not scandalous, despite his heart beating faster than it has before and his hands shaking as he reaches for the little zipper, watching the way Emily’s shoulders rise and fall gently with her breath.
He unzips the dress, sucking in a breath at the expanse of skin that’s exposed, and this is entirely indecent and not appropriate for a supervisor and his subordinate at all, but his touch lingers, pinching the fabric between his fingers so that the dress does not fall off of her entirely.
When she turns to face him, still holding the dress, they don’t realize how close he actually is, close enough that when she looks up at him, she can see the lines of his face closer, could almost share the same breath, could almost touch noses.
“Thanks, Aaron.”
His resolve almost crumbles right there, his large hands still on her shoulders and if he bends his face down, angles his head just right, he could press a kiss to her red painted lips, and he almost does.
He almost does it, her face is turned upwards towards him and he is hovering, leaning close enough to touch.
Then a loud slam from somewhere rings out through the precinct, an officer dropping a water bottle or perhaps it’s an investigation room door, but it’s enough to have Aaron ripping away from her, blinking quickly as he tries to regain his senses.
“I’m sorry, that was…” He licks his lips, swallowing tightly as she stares back at him. “I’ll let you get changed.”
He rushes out of the room with his tail between his legs, the tips of his ears burning as he returns to the room where the rest of the team is, and he tries to refocus on the case, tries to get the feeling of being that close to Emily out of his brain, where he could count the light spray of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks and see the long blink of her eyelashes.
She comes back from the locker room, dressed again in her impeccably tailored and professional suit and heels, her cheeks flushed.
They solve the case and return home, Aaron sitting next to her on the jet back to Quantico, where she falls asleep, her head resting against his shoulder. He is careful to not disturb her, sitting almost ramrod straight to make sure that she doesn’t wake up.
After, something shifted between them in that tiny locker room, their glances turning heated before one of them looked away, pink blooming onto their cheeks. His eyes roam across her as she moves through the station, as she fans herself with a case file whenever they’re working a case where the sun beats down on them, as she straps on her bulletproof vest and winks at him as she slips her gun into her holster.
They’re dancing around each other and Aaron knows it– He’s a profiler, for God’s sake. He feels her own eyes on him through his office window as he sits finishing paperwork, knows that she follows the movement of his arms as he crosses his arms watching an interrogation.
What drives him even more crazy is the fact that she still has his clothes .
She wears the denim jacket to a case in Texas, another case in California, a smile on her face when someone compliments it and says that the blue suits her.
He knows that his university hoodie is folded carefully in her go bag, knows this because he has caught her in the hallways of their hotel rooms, a little cup of ramen in her hand as she wanders out of whatever room JJ’s in and the hoodie swallowing her frame.
When they visit a city with rain and wind, his windbreaker appears, carefully washed and taken care of, and Aaron finds that he can’t bring himself to ask for his clothes back, not when she utilizes more than he does, and not when she looks like his whenever she does.
Aaron only has so much control and one night, he’s home in the privacy of his apartment and he cracks open the expensive bottle of whiskey that Dave had gifted him several months ago.
The alcohol gives him a slight buzz as he gets undressed, the cold shower not clearing his head as he loses the fight, takes himself in his own hand and Emily’s name is the one on his tongue as he loses his control.
He doesn’t think of that night, tries his hardest not to envision Emily tangled in his bedsheets with her dark hair spilling against the white and her face contorted in pleasure.
His fantasies quickly disappear when she comes into his office with tears swimming in her eyes and her hair damp from the rain, and he stands up, his mind replaced with worry.
“Emily, what happened?”
He pulls her in for a hug and she molds to his body perfectly, accepting his comfort as she trembles in his hold. He listens patiently as she tells him about her friend and he doesn’t hesitate to call the team in to investigate.
Despite Emily wiping her tears with a handkerchief he procured from his pocket and straightening her back, Aaron keeps a close eye on her, the way she takes a little longer to register something Reid’s saying and how she takes in a deep breath before allowing her eyes to roam over crime scene photos.
He doesn’t offer for her to step aside for the case. He knows she’ll decline, knows that the fire in her eyes will flame even though she is sad and heavy. So he waits, helps the team work the case, not surprised as Emily cracks, biting statements flung towards the fiancee.
It’s difficult as he struggles to focus on the case and the politics of it, but he phones the consulate anyway, and he watches as the Father is arrested.
“You should speak to her,” Dave says as he passes by him, patting Aaron’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you both the other SUV.”
Aaron hesitates before he approaches Emily and they stand in a quiet silence as she looks up at the church, snow collecting on the tips of her lashes.
“Thank you, Aaron.” She murmurs, his given name ringing gently in his ears.
“It’s our job. I know it was difficult for you.”
“He was… he was a really good friend. And John– I’m glad he’s okay,” Emily says, glancing at him. “I’ve only told Dave this. But when you’re a teenager in a new country, all you want to do is fit in. I had to face the consequences and Matthew was there for me.”
“He got me a doctor. He helped me, even though it went against everything he stood for–” She explains, sniffing as she rubs her hands together. “And then I disappeared. I didn’t even write letters. He was there for me and when he needed me, I wasn’t there–”
A loud sob cuts her off, the emotions of the day starting to take their heavy toll on her, and Aaron steps closer, his hand coming up to touch her elbow gently.
“Emily, you of all people shouldn’t have to explain yourself,” Aaron said. “I’m proud of you. And I’m sorry I was difficult to cooperate with today.”
She lets out a small laugh. “You’re always difficult, Hotch.”
“No, I’m not.”
His smile quirks up as they fall into another silence, until Emily blinks as she feels something dripping down her nose. Aaron’s eyebrows furrow with concern as he sees red.
“You’re bleeding.” Aaron said and Emily rolled her eyes at him, her sarcastic nature falling back into her.
“No, really?” She covers her nose with her hand, shutting her eyes for a moment. “He threw the Holy water at me.”
Aaron ushers her to the SUV, where he finds a pack of tissues in the glove compartment and he helps her pinch the bridge of her nose, their fingers touching, and he smooths down her frizzy hair with his free hand.
“If you need to take a few days off, you can.”
Emily shakes her head, her teeth starting to chatter as the snow begins to fall heavier. “No. I’ll be okay.”
Aaron hums his agreement and they wait until her nose has stopped, then he reaches for the glove compartment again, pulls out his gloves and a warm hat he kept inside.
“Do you just always have your things on hand?” Emily teases as she wipes her nose again with a clean tissue, dabbing to make sure the blood’s gone away.
Aaron huffs out a laugh as he hands them both to her, watching as she slips her fingers into the gloves, fixes the hat onto her head. “No, but I do have an agent who is always cold.”
The first smile that day appears on Emily’s face and she flicks at him as he shuts the door to the passenger seat, a giddy feeling rising in her chest despite the difficulty of the day.
When Aaron glances at her as he drives them back to the office, he can only think of how adorable she looks, bundled up in her coat and his gloves and hat, just slightly too big that it slips down her forehead and she keeps having to fold it back up.
He drives her home too, telling her that he will pick her up in the morning and promises a takeout cup of coffee and bagels from a bakery she likes.
She opens her mouth like she’s to say something, but she closes it, stepping close enough to give him a hug and thank him again before waiting by her door as he gets back into his car to drive away.
And it happens like that, for another few weeks, where they share slight touches, lock eyes from across the room. He realizes he never got his gloves and his hat back, and he bites his cheek to keep from smiling when she shows up with them on one of their snowy cases, knowing that his initials are embroidered on the insides.
They never say anything about it still, even as the team continues to poke fun and speculate.
Then Alaska comes, in their shared room after the rest of the team has paired up, and Aaron sits on the edge of the singular bed, flipping through the case file when Emily emerges from the shower.
Her hair is still slightly damp, sticking to her neck as she pads around the room in fuzzy slippers, long legs disappearing under the GW hoodie he had lent her several months ago.
His brain short circuits as he tries to figure out if she’s wearing anything underneath the hoodie, like tiny shorts, or if the hoodie is simply long enough to fall to her knees.
Then he realizes that she’s kept it, the thought of her wearing it around her house causally hitting him, and his cheeks flush.
He doesn’t quite know why he’s suddenly so embarrassed. He knows that she keeps his clothes, but to see her in the state of undress she’s in, confined in the four walls of this tiny, wooden hotel room, his blood starts to boil despite the freezing air of the small town.
She looks at him sheepishly, gesturing to her pajamas. “I forgot that Alaska is… cold.”
“It is.” His voice is slightly strained as she approaches him, a wary smile on her face.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“N-no. It’s fine,” He is stuttering. He never stutters. “Won’t you get cold?”
“Probably. I got extra blankets from the lobby, though.” She plops down on the other side of the bed, close enough that her legs stretch out next to where he’s seated and he tries averting his gaze, tries to pay attention to her ramblings about the bathroom water being too hot, how she couldn’t exactly figure out how to adjust the temperature on the knob.
He remembers a pair of sweats in his duffel bag and he stands up abruptly, heading to the little table next to the door to grab it, Emily watching him with a confused expression.
He tosses it towards her, the thick fabric clutched in her hands and she blinks.
“You can borrow them,” He says, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to be cold.”
“They’re grey.” She murmurs, almost to herself, and it is Aaron who blinks at her.
“They are in fact grey.”
She swats at his arm as he inches onto the bed and he lets out a laugh as she stands to change in the bathroom, coming out as she folds the waistband over and tosses a piece of cloth into her own go bag.
So she was wearing shorts underneath the hoodie.
When she slips back under the covers, Aaron scoots slightly away, just for the sake of some saving grace.
But he was only a mortal man and he feels his blood get even hotter as he reaches over to flick off the lamp light, recognizing both their states of casual undress and their close proximity.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take that chair or the floor?” Aaron asks as he moves under the covers, already feeling the weight of the bed dip with Emily curled on top of the mattress. She flips over to face him, shaking her head at him.
“Aaron, my answer hasn’t changed since the last three times you’ve asked,” She replies, propping herself up on an elbow to peer at him in the darkness. “And that’s not good for your back, you old man.”
“I’m not old.” He says with a huff and she laughs, flopping back down onto the pillows. She’s gazing at him, head slightly tilted as she traces the angles of his face and he can feel the tips of his ears start to pinken.
“No, you most certainly are not.” She agrees and he returns her steady gaze, his smile fighting its way onto his face.
“You know, your entire sleeping set right now is courtesy of my closet.”
“Oh, this old thing?” Emily tugs at the hem of the hoodie, a giggle slipping out of her. “A friend of mine let me borrow it and I suppose I keep forgetting to give it back.”
“I don’t think your friend minds.” Aaron promises and they fall silent, the word “friend” lingering heavily in the quietness.
If the light was on, Aaron would not be as bold. But he feels her slink closer, feels her body warmth mingle with his, and his hand finds its way onto her hip on its own accord.
“Sharing body heat. Survival 101 if you don’t want me to freeze to death and you’ll be down an agent,” Emily whispers, already knowing the warning that will come out of his mouth. “You don’t want all that paperwork, do you?”
Aaron is fighting himself in his brain as she presses closer, her eyes wide as he doesn’t stop her. “No, I… I really don’t want more paperwork.”
Emily hums and finally, finally , he loses the fight, gripping her hips in a nearly bruising grasp, his fingers sure to leave imprint marks on her skin as he slips them just underneath the waistband of his sweats.
He presses his lips to hers and the little gasp that falls out of her makes it already worth it, her own hand coming up to gently press against his cheek and curl around the nape of his neck.
Their kiss deepens quickly, Emily sliding against him even closer and he already knows he’s aroused, already knows how mischievous Emily is, and a groan is pulled out of him when she slides against him just right and he feels his entire body go up in flames at just that small, little touch.
“Em–”
“Oops?” She’s smiling against his mouth, their legs intertwining as she starts to circle her hips against him, her smirk growing, and Aaron growls, his grip becoming even more tight as he flips them, him hovering above her and he looks down at her, taking a moment to commit her picture to his memory.
Pale cheeks flushed and her hair spilling around her like a halo.
They’re right there, on the edge of jumping and never being able to turn back, as Emily’s hands curl around the nape of his neck and he presses her into the mattress springs, his lips ghosting across her collarbone and fingers tapping against her hip bones, the waistband of his sweats folded over.
“Aaron.”
The way she gasps his name rings through his ears, his own breathing unsteady, as he smiles at her, brushing her hair away from her face as she takes in a breath, watching as he peppered his kisses, other hand coming to pull up the hoodie, warmth from his hand spanning across her skin.
Just as he is about to pull it all off, to throw caution to the wind and allow himself to have her in the way she’s letting him to, a scream rips through the air, and the two of them pull away, eyes wide.
“That’s– That’s Penelope.”
“We have to go check on her.”
They redress quickly, Aaron not even noticing that she grabs his brown quarter zip and throws it over herself, and when they meet up with the others outside, he says her name by accident, and Emily sucks in a breath, her cheeks tingling red, and not from the chilly air.
He can’t forget it, he won’t ever forget the way her lips felt against his, how her body molded to his like they were puzzle pieces made for one another.
But whatever happened in Alaska stayed in Alaska, and Aaron is searching for her, itching to reach out, when Foyet suddenly comes back and his world is turned upside down, and he feels like he is drowning, the waters cold and choppy and roaring.
She is there for him, like a lifeline. She drives him to and from his apartment and the office after he is stabbed, walks up with him and waits until he has comfortably locked his windows and has set his alarm before leaving.
She helps fill his pantry and fridge with groceries, sits with him in his living room as he anxiously taps his fingers together, his worry and fears creeping into his voice. Her hand is gentle as she squeezes his shoulder assuringly, does her best to give him some sort of comfort.
And when it becomes too late and Haley’s blood stains his hands and his collared shirt, it is Emily who takes him to the bathroom, who helps him clean his bloodied hands and wipe the hot tears streaming down his cheeks.
It is Emily who stands steadily by him at Haley’s funeral, holding Jack’s little hand in hers as they wait for Aaron. She drives them both home and when Aaron wakes up the next morning, he finds his clothes clean and folded on the edge of his bed, Jack spooning cereal into his mouth while Emily reads him a book at the kitchen counter.
He comes back to work, Emily still steadfast by his side as he regains his footing in their jobs. And yet, he can’t quite meet her hand, and suddenly, she’s pulling away before he can even blink, avoiding team dinners and her eyes distracted as she answers mysterious calls, shows up to the conference room late and haggard.
He wants to kick himself for not realizing it sooner because he had always watched her, always kept an eye on her because she was everything he could’ve imagined, but he was too late.
The doctor leads him to the blinding white hospital room, where Emily is hooked up to several lines, her hospital gown paperthin. Her face is paler than normal, gauze carefully wrapped around her body, her eyes blinking slowly as they register his presence.
“Aaron?”
“It’s me, Em.”
He approaches her bedside, his heart sinking when he sees her. She looks small and fragile, a stark contrast to the steady, confident woman that she always has been, the one that he’s come to know on an intimate scale.
The woman in tailored suits and the impeccable composure is who Hotch knows, but Aaron knows Emily , knows her softness with his son and knows how her laughter makes her chest shake. He knows her favorite movies are rom coms from the early 2000s, knows that she picks tomatoes out of her cheeseburgers and that she likes to drink Coca Cola on lazy Friday nights.
He knows the way her skin feels under his touch, can feel her goosebumps as he presses kisses to the sensitive spots by her collarbone.
Yet he didn’t know that she was being hunted and now they had to pay the consequences.
“I went to your apartment,” He says softly, rubbing his thumb across her hand gently. “I brought Sergio and his things to my house."
“Did he scratch you?” Emily asks, amusement in her voice, but her breath rattles and Aaron squeezes her hand.
“No, I think he knew what was happening. He curled up in my bed almost immediately,” Aaron replies, his heart sinking though he offers her a fond smile. “Paris. You’ll be safe there while we try to lure him out.”
A tear slips out of her eye, dampening the gauze pressed to the side of her face. “I’m sorry.”
“What for, Em? You had every reason to not tell us,” Aaron murmurs. “I’m only sorry that I couldn’t figure it out and help you.”
“I didn’t want him to come for you,” She confesses, leaning her head against her pillows and staring at the popcorn ceiling. “He knew about you. Knew about Jack– I couldn’t let anything happen to you both–”
“Emily,” He chides, his eyes starting to glimmer with his own tears. “Please calm down. It’s okay, alright? I’m going to find him and then, I’ll bring you home, I promise.”
She gives a miniscule nod, her fingers weaving between his and squeezing. “What about… the team?”
“They won’t know,” Aaron says, brushing her hair away from her face as he thinks on what JJ’s telling them now, as he thinks about how hard Dave will be clasping his cross necklace and how Penelope will cry into Morgan’s shoulders, and how Reid and JJ will hug each other.
“We won’t tell them. Not until you will be completely safe. I need you safe, Em–” Aaron hesitates, but he kisses her forehead, fingers shaking as he runs a hand down her cheek. “I can’t lose you before I get the chance to–”
She shushes him, a weak laugh bubbling out of her.
“Bring me home first, Aaron.”
“I will,” He promises, voice cracking with emotion. “I’ll bring you home, right to me.”
He pauses as he looks at her, as if he’s never looked at her before and he hasn’t known her for all these long years. He has the lines of her face, the slope of her nose, and the angle of her jaw committed to his memory, buried deep in his brain somewhere that is all just her.
“I packed your bag,” He murmurs. “You can keep it all.”
Emily is confused, and only when she is by herself in her new, cramped apartment in Paris does she realize what he means, where she unzips her duffel and finds his clothes folded carefully alongside hers.
His windbreaker, his hoodie, the gloves and hat. His denim jacket, the buttons buttoned up to the halfway mark like she always does them. A messy array of tee shirts, the grey sweats from Alaska where she still feels the ghost of his fingertips on her skin.
A smile quirks up at the corner of her lips, despite the tears stinging in her eyes. Her eyebrows ruffle in confusion as she hears the rustle of paper among the clothes and when she unfolds the fabrics, little pieces of paper fall out.
She finds photos of her, head turned away as she stares at something glimmering on the street, her wristwatch catching the light as she holds a glass of some sort of expensive wine.
Photos of her and the team, where she’s smiling brightly under the arm of Derek Morgan, holding up bunny fingers behind Reid’s head of curls, and clinking glasses with JJ and Penelope.
A picture of Dave kissing both her cheeks like the Italian patriarch he is, a picture of all of them at one of their team dinners at the dinky, little Chinese restaurant downtown.
Then underneath the small pile are pictures of her and Jack, pushing him on the swingset at the park by Aaron’s house, the two of them holding ice cream cones in the neon lights of their favorite diner.
There is only one picture of her and Aaron, a selfie he had taken of them under the covers of his bed, a safe haven despite the horrors they faced and the brutality of their jobs. Her shoulders are bare and she is laughing, his stubbled face pressing kisses to her jawline as the flash of the camera captures the moment.
A tear finally slips out of the corners of her eyes as she flips the photograph to the back, where she spies Jack’s messy scrawl across the paper, a misshapen heart in the corner.
Aaron’s familiar handwriting, the swoops of his Y’s and L’s, the boyish look hidden beneath a professional facade, are written underneath Jack’s, and Emily keeps the photograph in her wallet, keeping the others in a manilla folder by her bedside table.
They keep her sane, when she wanders the streets of Paris and the lights and the murky waters of the Seine River remind her of Washington D.C.. When it becomes cold and rainy, she dons Aaron’s windbreaker, keeps his gloves in her pockets as she tries to buy things that remind her of home, trinkets that Penelope would cherish and expensive wines that would have Dave applauding her.
She spends her time doing puzzles, remembering the excitement Jack shared whenever they completed one, and starts to buy flour and sugar to bake things that JJ and Morgan would devour. She refreshes her French by checking out books at the library nearby, thinking that Reid would enjoy these just as much.
And when her heart hurts to remember Aaron and the gentleness between them, she lets herself cry, lets her salty tears soak the front of his hoodie and baggy shirts, and she pretends that it’s him, pretends that it is his strength wrapped around her and his warmth touching her skin.
The months pass by and finally, she is able to return home. They are able to track down Doyle and she is finally able to return for good.
But when she returns, it’s in pieces, and it breaks Aaron’s own heart.
He sees her overcompensation, sees the way she struggles to go back to the way things were before, before Doyle took it all away.
But he tries not to overstep, does his best to give her space, even though he stares at her longingly, his fingers itching to reach out and caress the pale expanse of her skin and hold her heart, hold it close to him.
And then she tells him she’s having a bad day, her eyes glassy as they peer at him and he lifts his hand to place it over hers on the table, squeezing gently.
Like he’s done so many times before.
“Jack and I are planning to go to the zoo tomorrow. Would you like to come?”
“I couldn’t– I don’t want to intrude.” She murmurs, her eyes falling to their joined hands. She surprises both of them when she opens her palm, letting their fingers intertwine, and her heart warms with hope as she feels the calloused pads of his fingers, feels how they are still the same even after the months that have passed.
“You wouldn’t be intruding, you know he loves you,” Aaron supplies, then he tilts his head at her. “I didn’t tell him.”
“You…”
“I couldn’t,” He explains gently. “It would’ve devastated him, you know? He adores you.”
Emily still looks slightly unconvinced and Aaron leans forward in his seat, across the table to press a gentle, steady kiss to her cheek. Her mouth falls open in a bit of shock and he gives her a lopsided smile.
“I’d appreciate your company, too, Emily.”
So she goes with them, Aaron picking her up outside of her apartment, where Jack almost bursts into tears as he sees her again, hugging her legs and insisting that she sit in the back with him.
Aaron can’t fight the smile off his face as he watches Emily and his son, follows them dutifully as they go from exhibit to exhibit, Jack’s legs dangling in the air from where Emily lifts him up so they can press their noses to the glass.
She insists on paying for their sandwiches, licking ranch off her fingers as she helps wipes Jack’s mouth, and when they land in a souvenir shop, Aaron pays for the coffee mug she likes and the stuffed animal that Jack grabs, and he holds the bags as they continue, Emily pointing out animals in French and helping Jack follow the syllables of her tongue.
Night falls faster, their fun distracting them from the time, and as they walk back to the car, Jack falls asleep, hoisted on Emily’s hip and with her arms wrapped carefully around him.
“He’s knocked out.” Emily marvels, slight awe in her tone at the level of trust that the little Hotchner has with her, at how she has come to adore him like her own.
Aaron smiles, satisfied at the ease he feels in Emily’s presence, and he shrugs. “Zoos tire him out. I know he had a blast with you.”
“I did, too,” Emily whispers, looking up at him with a shy smile. “Both of you.”
Aaron smiles as he smooths out the leather cuffs on the jacket he’s wearing before slipping his arm around her, pulling her and his son closer. They walk in an easy silence to the car, where Emily buckles Jack in the back and Aaron holds the passenger seat door open for her and she slips inside, holding his wrist before he can close the door.
“This is a nice jacket,” Emily murmurs. “Is it from Dave?”
“Yeah. He got it for me when I got back from Pakistan.”
“Pakistan,” Emily says softly, remembering what Penelope had told her– how the team struggled to cope with her loss and how it seemed like it had hit their boss the hardest, despite him trying to not show it. “How was it there?”
“Stagnant,” Aaron replies quickly, his other hand touching the fingers she has on his wrist. “I’m happy to be back.”
Emily is surprised when she finds herself agreeing, and she has a small inkling as to why.
Aaron drives them back to his house, where Jack is woken up by the car stopping in the driveway and he asks for Emily to come and tuck him in.
At Aaron’s miniscule nod of approval and the smile that is coaxed from him, Emily carries Jack up to his room, where his eyes are already fluttering shut again as she pulls the Spiderman covers up over his little body.
“Emmy,” Jack says softly as he drifts off to sleep. “I had the bestest day ever with you and Daddy today.”
Emily’s heart squeezes as she brushes her thumb across his brow, Aaron’s hand resting gently on her shoulder. “I had the bestest day ever too, Jack Jack.”
“Goodnight, buddy.” Aaron adds as Jack finally rolls over onto his side, a soft snore rising out of him, and he and Emily tiptoe out of his room as quietly as they can.
“Emily.” Aaron says as she shuts the door behind them, and they face each other in the hallway, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating their faces.
“Yes, Aaron?”
“Stay.”
So she does.
They don’t even make it past the doorway of his bedroom before they are kissing, their tension simmering in the air between them as they press as close as they can to each other, and Emily gasps softly as Aaron shuts the door, presses her against the wood.
The doorknob sticks into her lower back, but she doesn’t care as he lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his frame, and he starts to tug on her shirt and her fingers brush against his waist, fiddling with his belt loops.
“Emily.”
“I want it, Aaron,” She murmurs. “Please.”
“I could never deny you, Emily,” He agrees and he leaves bruising kisses all over her skin, red and pink starting to bloom beautifully across her pale skin. “I promised I’d bring you home.”
“You did,” She says, her hand raking through his hair as he helps her shed his clothes, carrying her back to his bed and dropping her gently onto the comforter. “I’m home now.”
He pulls away to take his shirt off and Emily traces his faded scars, her eyebrows furrowed as she counts them, and Aaron returns the expression as his fingers gently touch hers.
“We’re alive. That’s what matters.” Aaron says finally and she nods in agreement, kissing his scars as they span across his chest, and he moves to tug her pants off, dragging her underwear along with them. He takes a moment to appreciate her like this, her chest heaving and eyes glinting with arousal.
“I dreamed of you like this.”
“Naked and panting in your bed?” She quips cheekily and he chases away her laughter with deep, hurried kisses, and her giggles turn into breathless moans as his fingers find the space between her legs, already soaked and waiting for him.
“Aaron.”
“Emily.” He groans as she rocks her hips into his hand, the heel of it pressing right where she wants him, and her fingernails leave crescents in his skin as she comes, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of her pleasure.
“We have to be quiet.” Aaron mumbles as he stands up quickly to take off his pants and he huffs out a breath when Emily reaches for him, fingers just barely able to wrap around all of him, and she smirks.
“I can be quiet.”
“You weren’t just now.”
“Oh, shut up, Aaron,” Emily rolls her eyes and Aaron laughs softly as he crawls back over her, lifting her hands up above her head and holding them together with his. “Please. I think I’ve been waiting for this for years.”
“So have I.” Aaron mutters, a mixture of hope and awe in his expression as he starts to move with more purpose, barely restrained control drumming under his veins as he pushes into her, her warmth blanketing him and he can’t contain his grunt, can’t contain the stutter of his hips knocking against hers.
Emily’s moan is clear and rings in his ears and he blinks to readjust his focus, starting to thrust into her with more purpose, more intent, and he listens closely because after all, he is a profiler, and he categorizes the minute facial expressions she makes when he hits a certain spot inside her that has her squeezing tightly, the breathy moans she lets out whenever his pace changes.
It only takes a few more heavy, fast movements of his body and a quick swipe against her clit before she is coming again and Aaron is helpless to follow. He barely is able to ask her where before her legs wrap tightly around him to keep him glued to her, as close as possible, and with her answer clear as day, his groan is low and pulled from deep in his throat as he spills into her, and she is panting, a sheen layer of sweat glistening across her brow.
“Wow.” Emily mutters and Aaron laughs as he kisses her forehead, murmuring his agreement.
“Wow indeed.”
He leaves her to go to the bathroom and wets a small cloth with warm water before he returns to find her already starting to doze off. He cleans her up gently, tosses the cloth back in the sink, and then he comes back to her, slides into the covers behind her and wraps his arms around her tightly, like his touch alone will keep her there with him forever and ever.
The next morning, Emily wakes to an empty bed, but she feels at ease anyways. She slips out of Aaron’s bed and pads around his bedroom, opening one of his drawers and smiling when she discovers his tee shirts carefully folded inside, still there in the same space from years ago.
She throws a shirt on, tracing her finger over the faded letters of the old band tee before going out to the kitchen, where she finds Aaron flipping pancakes on the stove and Jack perched on one of the kitchen stools, eyebrows ruffled in concentration as he colors something.
“Emmy! You stayed!” Jack looks delighted as she comes over to ruffle his hair and she smiles, winking at Aaron from where she stands.
“Of course. Your daddy promised me some pancakes this morning.”
She sits down next to Jack, who hands her some crayons, and they color his page together, waiting until Aaron has stacked up their pancakes with chocolate chips and whipped cream, and he places a mug filled with sugary coffee down next to her.
“That my shirt?”
“It is,” Emily hums as she brushes invisible lint off of the front, Aaron’s eyes tracking her movements, and his eyes darken as she tugs the collar down comfortably, adjusting the shirt’s fit on her frame. “I didn’t have anything to wear.”
Aaron laughs and kisses her jaw, squeezing her arm before he takes their dirty dishes and Jack slides out of his chair, already bored, and as he runs off to find his cars, Emily stands to wrap her arms around Aaron at the kitchen sink, pressing her face to the familiar strength of his back.
“I’m not having a bad day anymore.”
“I’m glad,” Aaron says softly, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel before turning to face her, looking down at her and smiling at the sheer joy spread in her expression. “Emily–”
“I never have a bad day when I’m with you and Jack,” She continues, swallowing nervously as she toys with the hem of the shirt he’s wearing. “Thank you. It’s weird, you know? It’s like nothing’s changed with you guys. I feel like me.”
“That’s because you are, sweetheart,” The moniker slips from his lips easily, like he’s said it thousands of times before. He has, secretly in the security of his brain, but when he says it aloud, it feels right and easy. “You’re just Emily. Our Emily.”
“Yours,” She agrees, nodding, and she presses kisses to his knuckles, never breaking eye contact. “Aaron.”
“I don’t want to say that I love you now,” Aaron mutters, his breath teasing as he squeezes her hips, his touch as soft as the fabric of his shirt. “It’s not like a morning after thing, but I need you to know, Emily.”
“Know what?” She says with a smirk and he shakes his head at her, his own smile plastered to his face.
“That I do love you,” Aaron confesses and her cheeks bloom with pink warmth, happiness bubbling in her chest. “I’ve loved you for years now. I’m only sorry I never said it sooner.”
“You’re saying it now,” Emily smiles as she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him deeply, their movement familiar now that they’ve done it several times, and while it feels the same, it feels different, because this one promises forever.
“I love you too, Aaron Hotchner.”
She thinks they could stay like that forever, but Jack starts to call for Emily to come build his new Lego set with him, then only a few hours later, JJ calls them in for a case. They have to wait for Jessica to come to watch Jack, but Emily gets ready in Aaron’s bathroom, donning the leather jacket she complimented, and she wears it over a white tee shirt that Aaron says is too tight for him.
Of course, they get to the office in the same car, and when Emily walks into the conference room first to try and deter suspicion, it is Dave who makes the comment.
“Nice jacket, Emily. Isn’t that Aaron’s?”
The rest of the team stops in their tracks, Penelope dropping the remote control onto the floor and JJ swiveling in her seat to face Emily.
Emily shrugs, fighting to keep the smile off her face, but she loses the fight, especially as Aaron walks through the glass doors into the conference room. “I didn’t have a spare set of clothes.”
“Because you spent the night at Hotch’s?” JJ asks with a raised eyebrow and Morgan lets out a wolf whistle, narrowly avoiding Emily’s attempted flick to his head.
“It was a very satisfying night, thank you.” She smirks and Morgan makes a face, despite Penelope and JJ giddily prodding for more information.
When Aaron walks in, it is to five sets of eyes ogling at him and Emily smiling at him sheepishly. He glances at Emily, shakes his head in exasperation as he comes up to her, presses a kiss to the side of her head.
Penelope’s squeals echo through the room and Dave pats Aaron on his arm, a smile on his face for two of his closest friends.
“Alright, we have to focus, guys. Wheels up in thirty.”
But then the team knows, and Aaron can comfortably sneak his hand towards Emily’s on the table on the jet, and she squeezes his fingertips, her smile gentle as he rubs his thumb over her knuckles in return.
The team marvels at the evident love between the two of them, knows that there is no way this hasn’t been brewing for years at that point.
The weeks seem to fly by, and soon, the leaves outside turn orange and brown. House hunting has become one of Emily’s latest hobbies, visiting showings with Jack in her arms and Aaron’s hand on the small of her back. They look for houses with no cracks in the foundation, with a nice yard for a swingset for Jack and hardwood floors because Sergio doesn’t like carpets.
The one in Dupont is beautiful, dark brick and a lively garden that Penelope promises she’ll help teach her to upkeep. There’s a blue bedroom that Jack falls in love with and Aaron likes the panelling in the office, and Emily decides that it’s perfect, and even though the feeling in her stomach churns with anxiety, she is excited for this something new.
And despite her distractions with the pain and bustle of moving into a new house and their jobs, and Aaron and Jack holding her weight and the rest of the team coming back to terms with her and her finding some sort of footing again, there’s still something that Emily can’t quite grasp, something that she’s missing.
She shares her fears with Aaron, shares that she is terrified she will never be able to be herself again, even though her life has shaped into something beautiful. Aaron promises her that whatever she chooses, he will follow her, so long as she lets him.
And she is assured, she feels easy, despite her nerves starting to fray at the edges.
Then the email from Interpol comes, and she mulls over it for several weeks before she finally tells Aaron.
“You know,” Emily starts as she rolls over, her legs intertwining with his, and he looks at her sleepily. “Clyde Easter sent me an email yesterday.”
“Did he?” Aaron feigns innocence, like he doesn’t know even though Penelope had bustled into his office, waving her hands frantically and swearing on her life that she didn’t mean to peek.
“Mhm,” Emily hums as she traces circles on the bare skin of his back, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “I haven’t replied yet.”
“What’d he say?” Aaron asks, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and she peers down at him, tilting her head as she observes the way the sun streams through the window and bathes him, the way that his eyes look up at her with the same love and devotion she knows is mirrored in hers.
“He offered me a position in London.”
Aaron’s heart squeezes as his hold tightens on her, as if his grip on her will be enough to keep her there, tethered to him. “And what did you say?”
“I’m thinking about it,” She says, wiggling from his grasp, winking at him as she hops out from their bed, naked body padding around the room to head into the en suite. “We have to get ready for JJ’s wedding.”
Aaron fights a smile, knowing that he already has his answer, and he listens obediently, gets ready for his friends’ wedding, helps Jack gel his hair back and tie the little red tie hanging from his neck.
The ceremony is beautiful, really, but Aaron’s eyes are on Emily the entire time, at the way the dark turquoise dress clings to her curves, at how her hair flows down her shoulders. She stands with JJ as one of her bridesmaids at the altar and if Aaron squints hard enough, he can almost envision Emily in a different dress, this one white.
They dance together, his hand on her waist, fingers molded perfectly together as she leans closer, the top of her head brushing against his chin. She shivers slightly in his hold, the chilly air of the evening catching up to her.
“Always cold.” Aaron says into her ear affectionately and she smiles, resting her head against his chest as he draws her closer, hugging her tightly.
When she shivers again, teeth chattering, he slips the jacket of his suit off, wrapping it around her shoulders and tugging it gently around her.
“Emmy!” Jack calls, letting go of Morgan’s hand to run towards her. She catches him as he jumps up and she smiles as she kisses his cheek. He grips the sleeve of Aaron’s jacket, giggling as he buries his face in her neck.
Aaron keeps his hand at the small of Emily’s back as he leads them off the dancefloor, pulling out the chair at their table for her. Her phone pings from where it’s sitting on the tablecloth and Aaron picks it up for her, eyes seeing Clyde’s name lighting up the screen.
“It’s Clyde.” Aaron says softly as he hands it to her.
“I don’t need to answer it,” Emily replies as she grins up at him, the lights in Dave’s backyard making her eyes glimmer. “I declined his offer this morning in the bathroom.”
Hope swells in Aaron’s chest, hope and love as he looks back at her, and his smile grows slowly on his face. “Did you?”
“Yes. London is beautiful, but it doesn’t have Jack. Doesn’t have you,” She kisses the side of Jack’s head, ruffling his hair as he curls in her lap. “The Academy is asking me to take up teaching for a bit.”
The Academy is close by to the BAU office, close by to that house that Emily had bought in Dupont that had quickly become theirs. The house that Jack’s Legos and race cars littered, the one that has Aaron’s files sitting in the office that has turned his, and most of his ties and suit jackets hanging in a corner of Emily’s dream closet.
“Really.” Aaron wraps his arm around her, leaning down to make better eye contact with her. Her eyes are shining, happiness brimming in the deep brown.
“I’d be home just in time to pick up Jack after school,” Emily says, her smile quirking upwards. “And if you aren’t on a case, a new David Rossi recipe will be at the dinner table just in time for you when you come home.”
“You’ll have fun grading papers?”
“God, no,” Emily makes a face, but she laughs, using her free hand to cup Aaron’s cheek. “I’ll have fun training potentially future BAU agents, though.”
“And you’ll be here.”
“I will be here,” She pauses before adding, “With you.”
Aaron’s smile is blinding as he leans forward to kiss her, the strawberry cake she had 3 slices of still present on her lips, her mouth warm and inviting.
“Ew!” Jack yelps, wiggling down from Emily’s hold and running off again, scrambling to where some of the team are standing. “Uncle Dave! Daddy and Emmy are being gross again!”
Emily pulls away first, a laugh spilling out of her as she tugs his jacket around her shoulders, fixing the fabric that has slipped slightly off her shoulders.
“Have you accepted the Academy’s offer yet?”
“No, I need my really grumpy, but handsome supervisor to sign the transfer,” Emily can barely hold in her smirk as Aaron pulls her up to stand with him so that he can rest an arm around her frame. “I think I could convince him.”
Aaron looks at her, at the way his jacket hangs off of her shoulders, like so many others of his clothing before, it is just another one of his clothes that have made their way to her, a promise of forever.
He wonders how he got so lucky, how life had led him to have her in this gentle, beautiful way, and he can’t fight the smile as he smells the faint scent of his cologne from his jacket mixing with her perfume, a vanilla warm scent that is uniquely her.
He kisses the side of her jaw, the side of her head, before he responds, leaning closer to murmur in her ear.
“I think you definitely could.”