rawr-jess

[rawr-jess]

Occlusion

She can’t help but think of the first time she sat by his hospital bed. 

They hadn’t been together then, not even close, but it was when she’d realised she was in love with him.

AKA the one where Emily gets a phone call from her daughter to let her know that Aaron has had a heart attack.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is a birthday fic for the lovely @eobangingwhen <3 I hope you had a day as lovely as you are. Thank you for always being so supportive and letting me send you unhinged ideas <3

I really hope you enjoy this!

-x-

Words: 4k

Warnings: Whump, hospitalisation

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Mom, I’m ready.” 

Emily smiles as her daughter yells up the stairs for her as she tugs her shirt over her head and pulls her grey hair from the neckline, letting it fall naturally over her shoulders. 

“I’m coming, Evie,” she replies, checking her reflection one more time in the mirror before she heads out of the bedroom, almost walking straight into her husband in the hallway. She smiles as he stops her from getting any further, placing his hands on her hips to hold her in place, “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he replies, stamping a kiss against her lips, making her chuckle when he rubs his cheek against hers as they pull away, the scratch of his beard against her skin making her scrunch her nose up, “You look beautiful.” 

She presses her lips together and shakes her head, she reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair, smiling softly at the salt and pepper flecks that shone in the light of the hallway. 

“You don’t look bad yourself.” 

He’d aged like a fine wine. He had a slight thickness he had to his waist now, his large frame somehow deliciously larger, something she loved. She’d been self-conscious about getting older herself, and had carried on dying her hair for longer than she thought she would. Eventually, it was Aaron who convinced her to stop. A soft smile on his face as he assured her he’d find her beautiful no matter what, something he’d taken the time to prove to her again and again as she grew it out. 

When they first got together she worried that the love they had for each other would fade. She’d never been loved unconditionally before him, never believed that love could last forever, convinced from her own experiences that it was doomed to fizzle out. Sure that nothing lasted forever, but, if anything, she was more in love with him now than she was when they got married 17 years ago. 

The life they’d shared, the things they’d enjoyed and endured together, had only made her love him more. 

“I should have known I’d find you two making out up here.” 

Emily smiles at her 15-year-old daughter over Aaron’s shoulder and then she looks back at her husband and winks at him before she steps away. 

“Sorry, honey,” she says, stepping towards Evie and tucking some of her hair behind her ear, willfully ignoring the ache in her chest when she shies away from her touch.

Emily missed the days when Evie would seek out her affection, when she had to be convinced to go to sleep in her own room instead of in their bed pressed up against her mother. She loved watching her grow up, loved that their little girl was turning into a strong and self-assured woman, but sometimes she longed for when she was little, when she actually needed her. 

“Shall we get going?” Emily asks, but before Evie can reply her phone chimes in her pocket. Emily pulls it out and sighs when she sees Penelope’s message on the screen, “Shit.”

Sorry, Em. I know you had a day planned with Mini Peaches, but the Deputy Director is insisting all the SC’s come in for a last minute meeting 

“Please don’t tell me you have work,” Evie says, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing Emily a look that was all Aaron. 

Emily sighs and looks between her daughter and her husband, “I’m sorry, I have to go in,” she says, guilt climbing up her throat at the look of disappointment flashing across Evie’s face, “It should only be for a couple of hours-”

“You promised we’d go to the mall.” 

She closes her eyes for a moment as she sucks in a sharp breath, and feels her husband’s hand ghost her lower back. She hated breaking promises, hated when she felt like she was repeating history, her mind immediately equating missing a day of shopping with her mother missing her college graduation. 

Logically she knew it wasn’t the same, that she’d done better raising Jack and Evie than her mother had done with her, but it still picked at an old insecurity. Pulling the scab off a wound that she’d had ever since she’d found out she was pregnant with her little girl. 

“Why don’t I go with you,” Aaron suggests, “Then Mom can meet us when she’s done at work.” 

Evie sighs and clenches her teeth, irritation licking at her insides as she looks back and forth between her parents, “Dad you hate the mall. And shopping.” 

“I can put up with it for a day,” he says, winking at her, “Mom might even let me have the credit card.” 

Emily rolls her eyes at her husband and throws him a look over her shoulder, a wry smile on her face, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy being a kept man.” 

He’d retired a few years ago. It suited him in a way neither of them had anticipated, the slower pace of life something he both needed and deserved after everything he’d gone through. He kept trying to convince her to join him in retirement, only half joking whenever he brought it up, but she wasn’t quite ready yet.

She still, even after all this time, felt like she had something to prove. 

“Okay, fine,” Evie says, sighing as her shoulders sink slightly before she looks at Aaron, “Please don’t embarrass me though. And don’t be all…weird about the clothes I want to get.” 

“Of course,” he says, his expression serious as he agrees to her terms, “Why don’t you meet me in the car?” 

She nods and flashes a smile at Emily, a hint of disappointment still tainting it, “See you later Mom.” 

“See you, sweetie,” she replies, “I am so sorry.” 

Evie shrugs as she turns and heads down the stairs, “It’s okay, it happens.” 

She disappears from view, and they stand in silence until the front door opens and closes. Emily blows out a shaky breath and closes her eyes as she dips her head forward, trying to re-centre herself before she leaves for work. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Aaron says as he wraps his arms around her and turns her around, encouraging her to look at him when she opens her eyes, “And it’s not true,” he says, his smile encouraging as he pulls her closer, “You’re an excellent mother.” 

She chokes on a laugh and leans forward, resting her head on his shoulder as she hugs him back, “How do you always know exactly what I’m thinking?” 

“We have been together for close to 20 years, sweetheart,” he says, turning his head to kiss her forehead, “And I was a profiler for most of my career. I wouldn’t be a good husband if I didn’t know what you’re thinking.” 

She hums as she pulls back to look at him, “You should get going,” she says, kissing his cheek before she pulls back, “Our daughter has a very famous lack of patience.” 

He chuckles and squeezes her hand before he steps away, “I wonder where she gets that from.” 

She narrows her eyes, “It’s a mystery,” she says innocently and then smiles at him, “I should put on one of my suits,” she says turning back into their bedroom as he heads towards the stairs, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Em.”

When she gets to work she can’t help but wonder why the meeting was so urgent, nothing about it seeming like it couldn’t have waited. It makes irritation bubble under her skin as the room full of mostly men all talk at each other without listening to each other. She blows out a breath as she checks her watch, wishing she was with her daughter and husband. 

Her phone rings, the sound making her jump slightly as the screen lights up from where she’d put it on the table. She flashes a smile of apology at the Deputy Director before she looks down, her heart seizing in her chest when she sees Evie’s name on the screen. Her stomach twists and her heartbeat thunders in her ears, worst-case scenarios overwhelming her as she looks at the picture of Evie and Jack on her screen, their arms wrapped around each other and wide smiles on their faces. 

Evie never called her when she was at work. She never called her at all, claiming that calling someone was what ‘old people’ did. 

“I’ve got to take this,” she says, picking the phone up and leaving the conference room without looking back. She’s barely out of the room before she answers, not wanting the call to ring out, “Evie? Honey?” 

“Mommy,” Evie sobs, her voice thick as she answers, heightening any concern that Emily had been feeling into panic, the moniker of Mommy that she hadn’t heard in years sending ice through her veins, freezing her in place. 

“Evie, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, already walking back towards her office at speed to pick up her purse, desperate to get to wherever Evie was, “Where’s your Dad?” 

The question only makes her daughter sob more, the sound muffled slightly as if she was covering her mouth, “I’m at the hospital, Dad…” she chokes out, “Dad collapsed. The paramedic thinks he had a heart attack.” 

___

As she arrives at the hospital Emily realises she doesn’t remember a single second of the drive. The entire way she’d been worried about her husband, her grip on the steering wheel tight as she desperately tried to remember if she’d told him that she loved him that morning. 

She’d struggled to say it at first, the words always dying in her throat in those first few weeks and months even though she knew she felt it. She’d never been one to throw the words around, to say them to people because she knew they wanted to hear it, but every time she tried she found she couldn’t. Looking back on it all these years later, when I love you was something they’d exchanged countless times, the three words never enough to truly express how they felt about each other, she knew it was because she’d been afraid of something like this. Of loving him so much that just the thought of losing him would destroy her.

She knows she can’t break. Not now. Not when Evie needed her, not when Jack would when she’d call him when she had spoken to the doctors. She didn’t want to tell him until she had something concrete to say, not when she knew he’d immediately jump in his car and drive the 8-hour journey home from college - midterms be damned. 

Emily walks up to the nurse's station the second she’s in the emergency room, poised and ready to intimidate whoever she needs to with her badge in order to find her husband and her daughter as fast as possible, but she doesn’t even have a moment to get anyone's attention before she hears Evie call out for her. 

“Mom!”

Emily turns to look at her, and her heart breaks for her little girl. Evie’s hair was a mess from where she’d clearly nervously run her fingers through it, the locks she knew she would have carefully curled that morning frizzy and out of control. Her eyes were swollen from crying, bright red and shining as she runs towards her, her face sticky and hot when she presses it into Emily’s neck as she throws herself at her.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” she says, holding her tightly, pressing a fierce kiss to the side of her head as she runs a hand up and down her back, Evie’s sobs hiccuping from her chest into her mother's. Emily looks around and sees some chairs just a few paces away and she leads Evie over, sitting her down without breaking their embrace. She pulls back just enough to look at her daughter and she wipes the tears from her skin, her knuckles softly running up and down her cheeks in a soothing pattern, “I’m right here, okay,” she says, clearing her throat to hide the shake in it, “Mommy’s right here.” 

Evie nods and tries to suck in a deep breath, and Emily can’t help but think how young she looked in that moment. She was confident and brave and everything a parent could be proud of, and Emily often thought that she was looking at who she could have been if her parents had been half as supportive as she and Aaron were, and it was sometimes easy to forget that she was just 15 years old. 

It was only when Evie had turned 15, her face bright and full of excitement as she opened her presents, that it really struck Emily how young she herself had been when she was in Rome, forced to make choices that most adults would struggle with. 

Emily smiles encouragingly at the teenager as her breathing calms down a little, and she tucks some of Evie’s hair behind her ear, “Can you tell me what happened, baby?” 

Evie nods and swallows thickly as she sniffs, “Yeah, we were in the food court, and he was taking so long to decide what he wanted,” she says, her voice shaking, “And I was impatient so I turned to get my food, and he said my name…” her lower lip trembles, “And as I turned around I kind of yelled at him but he had this look on his face and then he just…collapsed.” 

Emily briefly closes her eyes in an attempt to gather herself but it fails when she sees a flash of it in her mind, an image as clear as day of her husband collapsing painted on the back of her eyelids. She smiles and squeezes Evie’s hand, “Did the doctor say anything when you got here?” 

She shakes her head, “Just to call you,” she says, her face crumbling as she’s hit by another wave of emotions, “I’m so sorry, Mom.” 

She frowns as Evie presses her face into her neck again and she cups the back of her head, holding her close as she tries to soothe her, “What are you sorry for, baby?”

“I was such a bitch to him all day,” Evie says, her voice ever so slightly muffled until she pulls back, “I was grumpy because you weren’t there and he’s Dad so he was being embarrassing,” she shudders, more tears slipping onto her cheeks, “And I was so mean and what if it’s my fault.” 

Emily is sure that she can feel her heart break in her chest and she has to stop herself from falling apart right there, covering her fracturing emotions by leaning forward and kissing her daughter’s forehead. 

“Evie, you didn’t cause this,” She says as she pulls back, a hand on each of her daughter’s cheeks, “And no matter what your dad knows you love him, okay?” 

Evie nods, “Okay.” 

Emily smiles and pulls her into a brief but tight hug, “I’m going to find the doctor, you wait here just for a second-”

“No,” Evie says, tightening her hold on Emily, wrapping her hand tightly around one of hers as they stand at the same time, “I want to come with you.” 

She can the desperation in it, the same shine to her daughter’s eyes that she used to have as a little girl when she had a nightmare. Her monsters real to her even though they never left her dreams as she stood next to her parent’s bed seeking out their comfort. 

“Okay,” Emily says, squeezing her hand, “We’ll go together.” 

___

She can’t help but think of the first time she sat by his hospital bed. 

They hadn’t been together then, not even close, but it was when she’d realised she was in love with him. The panic she’d felt when she couldn’t find him suddenly giving a name to how she’d felt around him for months. 

It was hard to think that was so long ago, that they’d both lost and gained so much since then. She sits next to his bed, her hand wrapped around his as the beep of his heart monitor soothes her, a repetitive reassurance she needs that he’s okay. That she hadn’t lost him. 

Emily has no idea how long she sits there before he wakes up, his hand twitching in hers drawing her out of her seat, her eyes fixed on his face as he slowly opens his eyes. 

“Hi,” she says quietly, not wanting to startle him or wake up Evie who was asleep on the couch in the corner. He frowns in confusion as he realises where he is, something that’s immediately replaced by concern, “Evie’s okay,” she assures him, nodding towards the couch, “I managed to convince her to get some sleep.”

“What…what happened?” He asks, his voice gravelly, and she reaches for the small cup of water, holding the straw so he can take a sip. 

“Well,” she says, placing the cup back down when he’s done, wrapping both of her hands around one of his as she sits on the edge of his bed, “You had a heart attack,” she says, squeezing his hand, using the warmth of it to remind herself once again that he was okay, “The doctor put a stent in,” she says, her gaze drifting to his chest, to the place where he had a new scar she hadn’t seen yet, a new part of the pattern that she’d memorised so long ago, “He said you’ll be okay,” she smiles sadly when she looks back up at him, “Although, no more unhealthy eating for you.” 

He chuckles humourlessly and looks back over at their daughter, “Evie…”

“She saw it happen,” Emily says, pushing his hair from his forehead, “She’s…upset, obviously. But she’ll be okay. She thought it was her fault,” she says, pressing her lips together, “She said she was giving you a bit of a hard time.” 

He smiles fondly, “Well, if that caused heart attacks I would have had one years ago between her attitude and yours.” 

She narrows her eyes, her breath catching in her chest as she leans forward and presses her forehead against his, “Not funny.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, stamping his lips against hers, “Let’s just blame the meds they’ve got me on,” he says and she hums as she pulls back, concern still lingering in her eyes, in the tightness of her jaw, “How are you?”

She blows out a shaky breath, “I’ve had better days,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “Jack is coming in the morning. I told him to wait until then, to get some sleep before he drove here.” 

“Good,” he says, thinking of his son, grateful not for the first time that he’d seemingly inherited his inability to say no to Emily. 

“When I was driving here,” she says, her voice shaking a little, her shoulders tight as she refuses to let herself fall apart “I couldn’t remember if I’d told you that I loved you this morning.” 

He sighs sadly and lifts his arm to wrap it around her, his body heavy and uncoordinated, “We’ve never needed the words, Em,” he says, encouraging her in for a kiss, “I know.” 

She nods and presses her forehead against his again, letting herself feel his breath skip over her face, the weight of his heavy hand on her back. 

“I love you,” she says anyway, unable to fight the soft smile that breaks out across her face to match his. 

“I love you too.”

___

As she walks through the front door to their house, it feels like a lifetime since she’d last been there, not just that morning. She can’t bring herself to think about how it would have felt to walk back in here having lost him, anything that made it a home dead and gone with him. 

“Ok, sweetie,” she says, turning to look at Evie as they step into the house, “Why don’t you go get ready for bed and I’ll make us some hot chocolates,” she suggests and Evie nods, shrugging off her jacket and placing it on the hook, “I’ll call the school in the morning and say that you won’t be in for a few days.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” she says, wrapping her in a brief hug, any usual distance she liked between them these days currently nowhere to be found, “Can I have-”

“Extra marshmallows,” Emily says, smiling as Evie nods, “Of course.” 

Evie goes upstairs and Emily takes a moment to suck in a breath, abandoning her shoes just inside the door as she walks to the living room just to have a few minutes to process what had happened. She sits down on the couch and as soon as she’s settled her eyes land on a photo from her and Aaron’s wedding. They were sitting together at their table, his arm slung over the back of her chair as Dave told an inappropriate story during his best man speech. Both of them were laughing at whatever he was saying, their eyes fixed on each other, love radiating out of both of them. 

She feels herself break, her chest folding in on itself as she sucks in a breath, an implosion that makes her shudder as she slumps forward, almost folding in half with the weight of what did happen, and how much worse it could have been.  

“Fuck,” she says to herself, the tears she’d been suppressing all day breaking free of the dam she’d forced them behind, the wave of emotion so intense that it takes her breath away, the sob she fails to conceal catching in her chest and hurting as she tries to swallow it down. 

She could have lost him today. 

She covers her face with her hands and cries into them, feeling everything she hadn’t allowed herself to since Evie had called her now she was in the safety of her own home, the assurances of the nurses and the doctors that Aaron was out of the woods on a loop in her head. 

“Mom, is it okay if I…” Evie walks into the room and drifts off, and Emily jumps, wiping her tears from her cheeks as she looks up at her, “Oh my god, did the hospital call? Did something happen? Do we-”

“No, Evie, no one called,” Emily says, her smile shaking as she tries to force it, tears still falling onto her cheeks, “Dad’s fine, I promise. I’m just…” she blows out a trembling breath, “so glad he’s okay.” 

Evie frowns and sits next to her on the couch, “You were scared.” 

Emily chuckles wryly and nods, wiping a tear from her cheek, “I was so scared.”

“I was scared too,” Evie says quietly as if it was a secret and she stares at her for a moment before she hugs her tightly, all but ending up in her lap like she was to when she was small, “I love you, Mommy.” 

Emily feels more tears press at the back of her eyes and they drop into Evie’s hair, she rests her cheek against the top of her head. 

“I love you, sweet girl,” she says, taking a moment to breathe her in, “What were you going to ask me?” 

“Oh,” Evie says as she pulls back, a slightly sheepish look on her face, “I wondered if I could sleep with you in your bed tonight?” she asks, her cheeks going pink, “I don’t want to be by myself.” 

“Of course you can,” she smiles and nods, tucking some of her daughter’s hair behind her ear, “I don’t want to be by myself either.” 

Evie smiles and snuggles back into her side, content to sit with her on the couch for a while, “Mom?”

“Yes?” Emily replies, running her fingers through Evie’s hair. 

“I hope that one day I meet someone who I love so much it grosses out my kids, just like you and Dad.”

She smiles, the first true smile she’d had since that morning, and she kisses her daughter’s temple, “I hope you do too.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Achene

It felt almost cruel that the world carried on, as if hers hadn’t shifted with the loss of a baby she never got to meet.

Emily and Aaron try to move forward together.

-x-

Hi friends,

My insomnia is back in full swing, which means the hurt/comfort is also back in full swing.

Couldn't say where the idea for this one came from, but it wouldn't leave me alone and writing it kept me from accidentally napping on the couch after work and making my sleep pattern even worse.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warning: Miscarriage

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

When he wakes up alone, he knows where he’ll find her. 

It was a pattern they’d fallen into over the last couple of weeks. Usually, he’d be the one who woke up first, Emily’s face still pressed into his chest, a tiny patch of drool on his shirt underneath her open mouth. He’d always wake her gently, running his hand up and down her back in a way he had done on their first night together, a habit that had carried them through from boyfriend and girlfriend, to fiances to now husband and wife. He liked it, enjoyed the predictability of how much she hated the mornings and waking up, the way she’d grumble as she slowly opened her eyes, never quite able to fight a smile as their eyes met. 

The last two weeks had been different. She’d woken up before him every morning, the sheets on her side already cool to the touch. It made him worry she was barely sleeping, if she was sleeping at all, and it only added to the concern already pooling deep in his gut, seeds that had been planted days ago blooming and taking up all the space in his chest. He blows out a steady breath and stands up, rolling his neck as he steps towards the ensuite, the light streaming out from under the door confirming what he already knew.

He doesn’t say anything as he steps into the room. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, giving his wife the lead in how they move forward. It was a grim pattern they’d fallen into, one he didn’t know how to get out of, and it broke his heart. 

“It’s already fading,” she says, the only indication she’d noticed him walking into the room. She turns to look at him, a positive pregnancy test in her hand, a tight forced smile on her face, “I have to tilt it in a certain way to see the result now,” she clenches her teeth and sighs, shaking her head at herself as she places the test back in the draw she had taken to keeping it in, “Soon there won’t be anything…” 

She trails off, but he already knows what she’s going to say, and he steps forward, his hands on her hips as he tugs her into a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, her hands in fists in the back of his shirt as she buries her face in his neck, anchoring herself to him as if he was the only thing keeping her upright. 

They’d been trying. Meticulously planning to have a baby that they’d both wanted for a long time. There was a box of ovulation tests in the cabinet that Emily started her days with to keep track, and a thermometer in her nightstand that she used to track her basal body temperature. It was something they’d wanted desperately, and when after a few months they got a positive result from a pregnancy test Emily had taken because she felt a little off they were overjoyed. Aaron had run into the bathroom the moment he heard her crying through the door, ready to comfort her but she’d beamed at him, the very same test he’d just found her holding clutched in her hand. 

Their joy was short-lived. 

The scan Emily had excitedly scheduled that morning, the only one they ended up having for that pregnancy revealed two things. Emily had been a week further along than she’d calculated, closer to 9 weeks than the 8 she’d estimated, and there was no heartbeat. The air had been sucked out of the room when the doctor told them, Emily’s hand slack in his as she nodded along when she was given instructions on what came next. It was a conversation she’d had once before in wildly different circumstances when she was a child herself. 

When they made it home from the hospital she’d finally broken down, cried the tears she refused to shed in front of anyone other than him. She’d deleted the app on her phone that was tracking her cycles, the one she’d only just switched to ‘pregnant’ mode, and tearfully told him the fruit for 9 weeks, a gimmick they’d both unexpectedly loved, would have been a strawberry. 

The pregnancy test was the only evidence they had that the baby had existed, and watching it slowly fade was devastating, another type of loss he hadn’t anticipated. 

“We should get ready for work,” she mutters against him, not loosening her grip, and he sighs, taking a moment to press a kiss to the top of her head before he pulls back, his hands on her lower back as he smiles encouragingly at her. 

She hadn’t been back to work since the miscarriage, but today was supposed to be her first day back. None of the team knew what had happened, something Emily had been insistent on, and they thought she’d been sick with the flu. The lie had worked, and it also gave them a good reason why Aaron wasn’t currently going away on cases. Whilst the reason their friends had for her absence wasn’t true, his desire not to leave her alone was. 

“You don’t have to go back today if you don’t feel ready for it,” he says, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “The boss has a bit of a thing for you so I think you’d get away with more time off.” 

She chuckles sadly and turns her head to kiss his palm, pressing her grateful love into his skin, “I do have to go back,” she says softly, reaching for his hand and linking their fingers together, “I can’t just keep sitting here thinking about everything that could have been,” she shrugs half-heartedly, “Plus, I’m not sure how much longer the others will buy the flu excuse.” 

He nods and runs his hand up and down her back, “If you want to come home at any time-”

“I just have to tell you,” she says, leaning forward to stamp her lips against his, “Thank you. For being…well you I guess.” 

He pulls her into a hug and kisses the side of her head, “You never have to thank me for loving you, sweetheart.” 

___

She feels tired in just about every possible way. 

She’d been back at work for a couple of weeks and it felt like she’d never been away at all. The team didn’t ask many questions beyond asking if she was okay on her first day back. Life carried on much like it always had for her and Aaron. They went away on cases, they spent their weekends with Jack, they loved each other. But there were moments when she felt stuck, when the grief would be overwhelming and make her breath catch in her chest. 

It felt almost cruel that the world carried on, as if hers hadn’t shifted with the loss of a baby she never got to meet. She knew they’d try again, the doctor's soft assurances that they could at her recent appointment ringing around her head, but it didn’t help. Especially since she knew if she was still pregnant they’d be getting ready to share the news with their friends, their chosen family, and the thought of it made her ache. 

She sighs as she settles into the couch, relieved to be home after a long couple of days away. She hears Aaron’s familiar footsteps on the hardwood floor and she smiles as she looks at him, gratefully accepting the glass of red wine that he hands to her. 

“Thanks, honey,” she says softly, shifting so she’s facing him when he joins her on the couch, “It’s nice to be home.” 

He hums as he sips his wine, “You’re telling me. That mattress in that motel did a real number on my neck,” he complains. She places her wine down and puts her hand on the back of his neck, pressing her thumb and forefinger into his skin, massaging the area she knew he carried the most tension, “God that feels good.” 

She chuckles and leans in to kiss his cheek, “When we’re in bed I’ll massage your back if you want.” 

“I’d love that,” he says as he turns his head to capture her lips in a kiss and smiles into it. He’s glad to see her more like herself, the sadness that had permeated everything in recent weeks still there, but not as overwhelming as it had been. He’d missed her smile, missed the sound of her laugh, and more than anything he wanted to protect her from being hurt anymore. It’s why he suddenly feels nervous, worried that what he’d been planning for a few weeks might set her back. He decides to go ahead anyway and he blows out a slow breath before he reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket, “I got you something.” 

She smiles curiously at him and tilts her head as he pulls a square box out of his pocket. Her curiosity suddenly turns to panic as she furrows her brows and tries to think of what the date is, if she’d somehow forgotten something important as she waded through her grief. 

“It’s not our anniversary is it?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out and pressing the box into her hand, “No, Em. It’s not. This is just…” he doesn’t know how to say it, how to put it into words, so he clears his throat, “I think you’ll understand when you open it.” 

She hums, “Oh, that’s mysterious…”

She drifts off as she opens the box, her words caught in her chest along with her breath, making her feel like she could burst with emotions she can’t name. In the box is a necklace, a delicate silver chain with a tiny pendant on it, the detail of which, the seeds and the ridges, were only visible up close

It was a strawberry. 

She huffs out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she covers her mouth with the hand not clasping the jewellery box. She can’t do anything other than stare at the necklace, at the pendant she knows Aaron would have painstakingly chosen because of a comment she’d made the day they found out about the miscarriage. 

“I ordered it a few weeks ago,” he says, clearing his throat again, hating that he can’t read her expression, that he can’t tell what she’s thinking, “It took a little while because it was custom made. Dave gave me the name of a guy.” He adds, his smile fading as his wife still doesn’t react. Dave had made a joke, one Aaron knows he wouldn’t have made if he knew the circumstances, about Aaron enjoying the finer things in life now he had married into money. “I thought it would be good for you to have something-”

“To remember the baby by,” she says, finally finding her voice and looking up at him, tearing her gaze away from the necklace. Her chest feels hollowed out, like all the love she has for him is forcing its way up her throat, “Aaron…” 

He only feels more worried when she trails off again, her eyes shining as she trails her finger over the small pendant, and he swallows thickly, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea, I just wanted to do something to help-”

This time she cuts him off by kissing him, her lips stamped against his as she grabs his chin, holding him in place as she rests her forehead against his, the jewellery box pressed between them. 

“No, it’s perfect,” she pulls back and looks at him, chuckling wryly as tears fall onto her cheeks, “You’re perfect.” 

He smiles and wipes her tears away, his touch soft against her skin, “You want me to help you put it on?” 

She nods and passes him the box, watching intently as he carefully picks the necklace up and undoes the clasp. She turns and pulls her hair to the side and she breathes shakily as he puts the necklace around her neck, his touch gentle as he does the clasp up and adjusts the chain. She touches the strawberry pendant, holding it between her thumb and forefinger and she sighs, closing her eyes as Aaron tugs her back into his embrace until her back meets his chest. He wraps his arms tightly around her and kisses her cheek, and she rests her hands over his. 

“I love you,” she says, grateful when he ignores the shake of her voice, “So fucking much.” 

He kisses her temple and pulls her impossibly closer, “I love you too.” 

___

One Year Later

Emily hums contentedly as she rocks back and forth in the armchair, the nameless melody turning into a yawn as she looks at the time.

3.20 am

She tilts her head down to look at the three-week-old lying on her chest, his eyes wide open as he refused to fall asleep. She chuckles to herself and kisses the top of her son’s head, taking a moment to breathe him in. 

“You really do get your hate of sleep from your Daddy, sweet boy,” she says softly, kissing his head again. 

“I don’t hate sleep,” Aaron says, smiling when she turns to see him standing in the nursery doorway, “I just get up early.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “Sounds like the same thing to me,” she says as he walks across the room and joins them, perching on the arm of the armchair, “Did we wake you up?” 

“No,” he assures her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and smiling at the sight of his youngest fighting sleep in her embrace, “I woke up and you weren’t there so I came to see how you were doing.” 

“We’re okay,” she says, turning her attention back to the baby, “We’re okay, huh? We’re just trying to get back to sleep after a diaper change and a 3 am snack.” 

Aaron watches contentedly as Emily runs her hand up and down the infant's back, lulling him to sleep against her. He wishes he could go back and tell his wife that they’d make it to this, that the clouds had parted and they’d found happiness after the storm. 

“He gets the need for a 3 am snack from you,” he says and she playfully narrows her eyes at him before she looks back down at her son. 

She strokes her fingers over his cheek, smiling as he twitches, the corner of his mouth turning up into something that resembles a smile. His eyes finally drift shut, his fight against sleep a battle he had lost, and he relaxes against her. The only thing that hadn’t relaxed was his fist, tight even in his sleep around the chain of her necklace, his little fingers next to the strawberry pendant that symbolised the loss they’d had before him. It was a complicated kind of grief, one she thinks she’ll never get used to. The acknowledgement that if she hadn’t lost that baby she wouldn’t have her son was hard to accept, a bittersweet taste left on her tongue whenever she thought about it. 

“You want me to take him?” Aaron asks quietly, drawing her from her thoughts, and she smiles and nods, taking a second to kiss her son’s forehead. 

“Mommy loves you, sweet boy,” she says, kissing him again, “I’ll see you in a little while.” 

She watches as Aaron carefully lifts the baby and carries him back towards their bedroom. She follows them, her fingers automatically reaching for her necklace, something she now wore at all times. She rubs the pendant back and forth between her finger and thumb, a movement she had found comfort in ever since Aaron had first put the necklace around her neck, and she smiles as Aaron gently lowers the baby into the bassinet, simultaneously treating the newborn like he was something precious and a bomb that could go off at any moment. He turns to smile at her once he’s done, his smile curious as he catches her staring at him. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she says, letting go of the pendant and letting it fall back into place against her skin. She walks across the room and climbs into bed, her exhaustion returning in full force as soon as she’s under the comforter, “I just love you, thats all.” 

He smiles and gets into bed with her, tugging her against him as they settle down, both facing the direction of the bassinet where their son was sleeping, “I love you too.” 

They fall asleep in tandem, and when they are woken up just an hour later by the baby crying, they are still tangled up around each other, not sure where the other ended and where they began. 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

HAPPY (belated) VALENTINES ❤️

Amore

It's Valentine's Day and Emily just wants to spend it with her boyfriend, but she's got two problems:

No one knows she and Aaron are together,

Penelope is insistent on setting her up on a date.

-x-

Hi friends,

Everyone loved the idea of this when I suggested it the other day, so I hope you like how this turned out!

Please let me know what you think <3

Happy Valentine's Day!

-x- Words: 3k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily smiles as Aaron opens the door to his hotel room and stands back just enough to let her in, his eyes sweeping the hallway to make sure none of the team is nearby. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says as she walks into the room and he closes the door behind her. She immediately wraps her arms around him and kisses him, her hand on his cheek to keep him in place. He smiles into it and presses his forehead against her as they pull away from each other, “If we hadn’t spent all day together I’d ask if you missed me.” 

She kisses him again before she walks over to the bed, slipping her shoes off before she climbs in, “I did miss you,” she says, yawning as he climbs into bed with her, “I had to spend all day pretending I’m not madly in love with you in front of our friends.” 

He laughs and kisses her forehead, “I missed you too,” he wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her close, “Today was a long day.” 

She hums in agreement and rests her head against him, her forehead against his neck, “Such a long day,” she grumbles, kissing his throat, “But hopefully we’ll get it all wrapped up tomorrow and make it back in time for Valentine’s Day.” 

It was their first Valentine’s Day together. She’d never been one to buy into the holiday, but she was looking forward to it this year. She’d bought him a new watch and spent longer than she’d care to admit picking out a card, walking the aisles in the store until she found one that came close to explaining how she felt about him. She knew he’d bought her something too, he wasn’t good at hiding presents, something she’d discovered when she spent Christmas with him and Jack, so she’d spotted the blue Tiffany bag in his sock drawer just before they left DC for the case they were on. 

She wanted to spend the day celebrating their love for each other, she wanted to bask in the fact she was finally in a relationship that made her want to take part in things she would have once scoffed at. She often joked Aaron had ruined her, that he’d turned her into a sappy, love-sick, thing, but she actually thinks their relationship had been the making of her. It had helped her find herself again when she got home from Paris, had helped her build up the new version of herself from the rubble of what she’d left behind. 

Aaron loved her no matter what, and she loved him the same way. 

“We’ll celebrate whether we get home on time or not,” he promises her, kissing her forehead and she nods. Her phone chimes and she pulls it out of the pocket of her sweatpants and reads the text she’s received. Emily rolls her eyes as she tilts the phone so he can read it too. It was from a number she didn’t have saved, and as he reads it he feels jealousy thrum in his veins. 

Hi, this is Mark - Penelope gave me your number. She said you’d be up for getting together for a drink sometime. Call me!

“She’s giving your number out to people now?” 

She hums as she locks her phone and places it down on the bed, “Well, I never went on any of the blind dates she tried to set me up on so I guess this is the next step,” she scrunches her nose up as she looks up at him, “I didn’t know she had this many single friends though so I’m worried she’s moved on to random guys she meets in bars.” 

For months Penelope had been trying to set her up, taking neither Emily’s hints nor her insistence that she didn’t need any help very seriously. She kept saying she just wanted to see Emily happy, something she didn’t know she already was, and she was determined to make it happen. Her efforts had increased since January had ticked over into February, the long drawn-out weeks of the first month of the year giving way to the month of love, seemingly convincing Penelope that Emily needed a partner more than ever. 

If only she knew Emily already had one. 

Emily and Aaron had both decided to keep their relationship secret. At first, it had just been practical. They wanted to navigate the shift from friends to more without the pressure of outside opinion, without feeling like their every move was being watched. Like it was being carefully observed. They’d both been through so much that wanted to protect themselves, protect this, something precious that they both deserved. It’s how they’d made it 6 months down the line without no one else other than Jack and Jessica knowing about them. 

“Not sure how I feel about random guys texting my girlfriend,” he grumbles and she chuckles, biting her lower lip as she shifts on the bed. She turns towards him and hooks one of her legs over his lap, smiling as she settles onto him, both of his hands automatically seeking out her hips. 

“Oh honey,” she says, shifting closer on his lap, hooking her arms around his neck, her fingers trailing the short hair on the back of his head, “Are you jealous?” 

“Yes,” he answers honestly, tightening his grip on her, raising his eyebrow when her smile only widens, “But before you make too much fun of me, I think we both know you wouldn’t be any better if this was the other way around.” 

She stamps a kiss against his lips, “True,” she says, kissing him again, “But I promise you have nothing to worry about,” she rubs her nose against his, “I’m all yours,” she kisses up his jaw, “No matter what.” 

He feels pride flare in his chest, warming him from the inside out as he moves his hands from her hips to her lower back, pushing her closer to him so their chests press together, “All mine.” 

She hums and kisses him, “We’ll figure out how to tell them all once we’re home and Valentine’s Day is out of the way, okay?” She says, her and on his jaw as they pull back, “I just want to enjoy it without everyone…sticking their nose in. Or without Pen asking intrusive questions about our sex life.” 

He pulls back, his eyes wide in alarm, “She’ll do that?” 

She chuckles and presses his forehead against hers, “If you think her trying to get involved in my love life stops the moment she finds out we’re together you’re kidding yourself, baby.” 

His response is cut off as she leans in and kisses him again and rolls her hips against his, any thought other than her wiped from his brain as he gets lost in her. 

___

Penelope, somehow, convinces them all to go out for a drink after they get home. 

Emily was hesitant to, her eyes fixed on her watch as the time clicked closer to midnight and therefore Valentine’s Day. The rest of the team had immediately agreed, meaning that her and Aaron’s protests would only stand out and seem suspicious. 

She sighs as she takes a sip of her beer and looks over at Aaron, who was standing with Dave and Derek, and she smiles softly when their eyes briefly meet and he winks at her, his own smile hidden by his drink. She sees the promise in it, the love that they were yet to share with anyone else. She was excited to move forward, to let their friends in, but she would miss the secrecy. Not just for the privacy it gave them, but because she loved sneaking around with him, the edge it gave when she snuck to his room when they were on a case. 

Right now she struggled to see the merit in it. She wanted to kiss him, to taste the beer from his lips instead of from the bottle she was holding. 

“You okay, Em?” JJ asks, dragging her attention back to her, “You seem distracted.” 

“I’m okay,” she replies, smiling at her friend, “It was a long case, that’s all,” she looks towards the bar and her smile slips from her face when she sees Penelope talking with a man at the bar, her smile wide as she pointed towards the group, smiling and waving when she catches Emily’s eye, “Oh god she’s doing it again isn’t she?”

JJ smiles at her, a flash of something Emily can’t quite place in her eyes before she answers, “You could just tell her no.” 

Emily raises an eyebrow at JJ, “You seriously think I haven’t tried that?” She asks incredulously, “You have met Pen right?”

JJ nods, “That’s true, she doesn’t really take no for an answer.” 

Emily chuckles and shakes her head, “No she does not,” she groans as Penelope walks towards them, the man from the bar just a few paces behind, “Here we go.” 

“Emily,” Penelope says enthusiastically as she walks over, “This is Richard, we just got talking at the bar,” she says, pulling Richard closer, making sure he was standing closer to Emily, “Richard, this is my friend Emily who I was telling you about.” 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, offering out his hand to her which she shakes, her smile tight as he squeezes her hand and lingers a little too long. 

She can feel Aaorn’s gaze burning into the side of her face and she looks over at him briefly. She can see the tension in his jaw from where she’s standing, the way he’s gripping his beer bottle a little tighter than he was before. She feels her cheeks get warm as she looks back at Richard, Aaron’s obvious jealousy making her stomach flip for a moment. Usually, she thinks she’d purposely try and make him a little more jealous than he already was, let this guy in front of her flirt with her for a few minutes until she turned him down, but she didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire with Penelope. 

It’s not like she needed any more encouragement. 

“We’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” Penelope says, linking her arm through JJ’s and leading her away, purposely ignoring Emily’s glare. 

Emily shakes her head as she’s left alone with Richard and she smiles politely at him, blowing out a slow breath, “Look, I don’t know what Pen told you but-”

“You’re with the suit,” he says, cutting her off with a smile. Her eyes widen quickly and she double-checks to make sure no one from the team heard him. She chuckles dryly and turns back to look at him. 

“You…how did you guess that?” 

Richard shrugs, “If looks could kill, I’d have been dead the moment I walked over.” 

She nods and presses her lips together, “Yeah, he…has that effect on people,” she says affectionately, Aaron’s supposed grumpiness one of her favourite things about him. It was a mask, something he used to protect himself, and it made the soft side that he reserved for her and Jack all the more precious, “I am sorry though.”

“Don’t be,” Richard says genuinely, reaching out and squeezing her arm for a second before he stops and steps away, “It was nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too,” she says, watching him go. She’s only alone for a second before Penelope walks back over, outrage painted all over her face. 

“You turned him down that fast,” she says, scoffing at her, “I keep finding all these lovely guys for you and you keep turning them down, or not responding to their messages.” 

She raises her eyebrow at her friend, “Yeah, we’ve got to talk about you handing out my number to random people.” 

Penelope’s eyes go slightly wide, “Matt is not a random person-”

“His name was Mark,” Emily corrects, her eyebrow still raised and Penelope clears her throat, nodding as she avoids eye contact.

“Okay, yeah that was my bad,” Penelope says, huffing out a breath, “I just want you to be happy, Em.” 

“I am happy,” she exclaims, catching the attention of the others, all of them tuning into the conversation. 

“I mean happy with someone.” 

Later, Emily wouldn’t be able to figure out what made her do it. Whether it was the two beers she’d had and the slight buzz they’d given her, or Aaron’s gaze burning into her side. Mostly, she thinks it’s irritation aimed towards her friend, the well meaning meddling finally pushing her over the edge. 

“I am happy with someone,” she says, placing her beer down on the high table near them and closing the gap between her and Aaron, crossing the distance in just a few paces, before she kisses him, her lips firm against his. She doesn’t think about it for a moment, doesn’t consider her audience, too caught up in the feeling of Aaron pressed against her, in the way he grips her hip. 

Then her brain catches up with the rest of her. 

She pulls back and looks at him, her eyes almost as wide as his as they meet, and she curses under her breath when she realises what she’s done. He squeezes her hip again, reassurance she needs in the touch as he lets her know he isn’t mad at her, and that, as he always was, he was there for her. She turns at looks at their friends, ready to have a conversation she’d been putting off for months, but instead of shock written across their faces, they all look smug. 

Especially Penelope. 

“I told you I’d get her to admit it.” Penelope exclaims, hitting Derek in the shoulder as she looks at her watch, “And it is 11.50 pm so it is still technically before Valentine’s Day which was my deadline. So pay up.” 

“Damn it,” Dave says, rooting through his pockets for his wallet. 

Emily chokes on a laugh and looks back and forth between Aaron and the team, finally finding her voice as they all grumble and start pulling money out of their wallets to pass to their exuberant friend.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” She asks, frowning as the rest of them chuckle. 

“We all knew you guys were together,” JJ says, handing her money to Penelope, “We got bored of waiting for you to tell us so Pen said she’d get it out of you.” 

Aaron tightens his hold on Emily, his arm around her as he pulls her towards him, her back against his chest, “How long have you known?” 

Derek turns to Spencer, who had so far been standing quietly in the corner, “Reid, when did you see them making out?” 

“Oh god.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Emily and Aaron speak in unison, both of them looking down at the floor in embarrassment, and Spencer stutters for a moment, choking on his words. 

“I never said made out,” he says, speaking quickly before he sighs. Emily and Aaron both look up at him, and they take some comfort in the fact he looked just as uncomfortable as they felt, “I saw you guys kissing in one of the hotels we stayed in 5 months, 3 weeks and 2 days ago.” 

Emily groans and turns her head to look at her boyfriend, “We didn’t make it a week without them finding out.” 

He smiles sympathetically at her and kisses her temple, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart,” Penelope exclaims, pulling everyone's attention back towards her, “You guys are even cuter than I imagined.

Emily sighs and feels Aaron’s grip on her tighten, his discomfort clear, “Are we done here?” Aaron asks, doing his best to intimidate them. 

“Oh not by a longshot,” Dave says, a smirk spreading across his face that makes Emily roll her eyes as he passes them fresh drinks.

“Shut the fuck up, Dave.” 

___

He smiles as she sits down on the couch next to him, groaning as she rests her head on his shoulder. He kisses her forehead as he wraps an arm around her, always desperate to have her as close to him as possible. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

She nods and tilts her head up to look at him. She pushes her fingers through his hair, smiling softly as it flops back onto his forehead, “I’m okay. A little embarrassed they apparently knew all along, but I’m okay.” 

“I think it’s nice they were giving us a chance to tell them ourselves,” Aaron says, smiling at her, “Although I do wish Garcia’s technique to get us to admit it didn’t include trying to set you up with people.” 

She chuckles and rests her forehead against his, “Like I said, honey, you’re the only one for me.” 

He stamps his lips against hers, “You’re the only one for me too,” he kisses her again before he pulls back, his eye briefly lingering on the clock on his living room wall, and his smile gets wider when he sees it’s close to 2 am, “I forgot to say because of all of the intense questioning, but Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

She cups his cheek and pulls him in, tasting the scotch Dave had bought him on his tongue before she pulls back just enough to speak, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

His response is to kiss her, to take his time to get lost in it, in her. When he eventually pulls away she’s breathless, her eyes slightly bleary and he strokes his thumb back and forth over her cheek, “We should go to bed.” 

She hums and nods, “We should,” she says, biting her lip as she looks at him, “But not to sleep, right?” 

He laughs, the sound making her fall impossibly more in love with him, the joy so loud she thinks it might wake his neighbours. He stands up quickly, tugging her with him, his grip on her so tight when he pulls her into his embrace that her feet leave the floor, her toes scraping the carpet where his life had once almost ended, and where it now felt like it was only just beginning. 

“No sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff, thick with emotion and want, “Definitely not to sleep.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Green is the Colour

She knew she was being irrational.

AKA The one where Emily gets very jealous when she sees an officer flirting with her husband

-x-

Hi friends,

I got overwhelmed with the urge to write jealous Emily and here we are! I hope you enjoy and as always please let me know what you think.

-x-

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: pregnancy (not a main theme, but Emily is pregnant in this)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She was being irrational. 

Objectively she knew that. She knew the jealousy that was thrumming underneath her skin was unwarranted, that Aaron never noticed when other women looked at him, that even if he did he’d never entertain the idea of someone flirting with him. He only had eyes for her, his love and affection clear every time he looks at her, something that had been true for long before they’d ever even kissed. 

She was being irrational, but watching a young officer, a woman in her early twenties called Rosa Thompson, flirt with her husband had her on edge. 

It wasn’t the first time they’d been working a case and someone had become enamoured with Aaron. Emily couldn’t exactly blame them, he was handsome. Tall and broad in a way that made him feel safe to be around. He commanded whatever room he was in and was firm but never unkind. It was what had drawn her towards him even back when he was just her boss, when he was unattainable and married to someone else. 

Whilst it had happened before, it felt different this time. Irritation she hadn’t expected when she first noticed Officer Thompson’s interest in her husband shifting under her skin constantly, something that had been a simmer at first coming to a full boil. The worst part was that he was completely oblivious to it. He didn’t notice when Officer Thompson shifted closer to him for no reason, or how she hung on to every word he said. It was sweet, his complete lack of awareness of how hot he was something she usually found endearing, but today it was annoying her. 

She couldn’t quite get her head around the fact the father of her children was so stupid.

Emily groans slightly as she steps into the precinct's kitchen, hoping that a cup of tea would settle her stomach - the mix of jealousy and morning sickness kicking her ass in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She was only 9 weeks along and no one other than her doctor and Aaron knew. Jack didn’t even know he was going to be a big brother yet, something he’d been asking to be since before she and Aaron had even got engaged. She knew everyone would be happy for them but she was enjoying it just being something between her and Aaron for now, a rare secret between the two of them that she would treasure until they had to let other people in. 

She drops a tea bag into a bug and pours hot water in and she clenches her teeth when she hears Officer Thompson’s laugh. She looks up and aggressively stirs her tea, pressing up against the tea bag hard enough when she drains the excess water from it that she’s surprised it doesn’t burst. 

“If it helps,” JJ says, making her jump as she appears from seemingly nowhere, standing next to her with a glint in her eyes that only makes Emily more irritated, “I don’t think he’s noticed.” 

Emily has to clench her teeth to stop herself from growling, irritation she doesn’t fully understand licking at her insides at her friend's acknowledgement of what she thought only she had noticed. She looks back over at her husband and Officer Thompson and she blows out a steady breath as she throws the teaspoon she’d been holding into the sink. 

“Funnily enough JJ, that doesn’t make me feel any better” she says, holding her mug in her hands, the heat of it in her palms distracting her from the jealousy burning her insides. Her attention is pulled back towards the bullpen at the sound of Officer Thompson’s laugh again and she scoffs, her nose scrunched up as she shakes her head, “She’s being so obvious.” 

JJ suppresses a smile, enjoying this side of her friend she rarely got to see, “In her defence,” she says, nodding towards them, “You’re the one always telling us how funny Hotch is.” 

She hums as she narrows her eyes, her gaze fixed on how the officer steps closer to her husband.

Yeah, but he’s not that funny,” she grumbles as she looks back at JJ. She frowns as she notices the knowing smile on her friend’s face and she tilts her head slightly, “What?” 

JJ presses her lips together and clears her throat, “It’s normal you know.” 

Emily’s frown deepens, “What’s normal?” 

JJ steps closer to her, lowering her voice so no one else will hear her, “Being more jealous than you usually would be when you’re pregnant.” 

She coughs around a sip of her tea, her hand pressing into her chest as she briefly chokes on it. JJ pats her on her back as it passes and she looks up to see Aaron looking at her across the room, his brows furrowed and she shakes her head at him, letting him know she is okay. She looks back at her friend, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She briefly considers denying it but she knows that the ship has sailed when JJ simply raises an eyebrow at her.

“What?” She asks, having to remind herself to keep her voice quiet so she doesn’t draw any more attention to them, “How did you…what?” 

JJ smiles and squeezes her shoulder, “You could barely look at Derek’s breakfast sandwich this morning and the smell of coffee makes you gag,” she says, her smile turning mischievous, “And your boobs are bigger.” 

“What? No, they aren’t,” Emily says, looking down at her chest, critically eyeing it to see if her friend was correct. She looks back up at her, “Do you think the others know?” 

She shakes her head reassuringly and Emily feels the panic that had been building started to dissipate, “Don’t worry, I only figured it out because I’ve been there,” she says, scrunching her nose up at the memory of it, “I don’t think I realise how gross Derek’s eating habits were until Henry turned me into some kind of bloodhound.” 

Emily chuckles and looks back over at Aaron, her irritation bubbling up again when she sees how Officer Thompson is leaning in to read the file Aaron is holding, “You struggled with the jealousy thing too?” 

JJ chuckles and nods, “Oh yeah,” she says, shaking her head at herself, “And Will and I didn’t even live in the same city at the start…that made it rough.” 

Emily hums, “Yeah, because watching other women flirt with your husband is better,” she sighs as she looks at JJ, “Does it get better?” 

“Oh god no,” she replies, smiling when Emily groans, “Just talk to him about it,” she says, squeezing her shoulder one more time before she lets her hand slip back to her side, “And your secret is safe with me.”

She smiles, “Thank you.”

They fall into silence for a moment and JJ reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together, “I’m so happy for you, Em.” 

Emily’s smile gets wider and she feels happiness spread through her chest, warming her from the inside out, “I’m happy for me too.”

___

By the time they make it back to their hotel room, she’s furious with him.

It’s not fair and she knows it, but she can’t help it. Anger at his inability to see what was right in front of him swirling in her gut, making her feel even more nauseous than she already did. She blows out a breath as she steps over the threshold into their room, not even looking back at him before she grabs her pjyamas from the bed and walks into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her. 

She looks at herself in the mirror for a second and shakes her head before she quickly gets dressed, leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor before she walks back out into the bedroom. She pauses in the doorway when she sees Aaron sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looks at her, his eyebrow slightly raised as he tries to read her. 

“You okay sweetheart?” 

She hums and nods, “I’m fine,” she says, not sure she’d even believe herself as she speaks a little too quickly, “It’s been a long day, thats all.” 

That wasn’t entirely a lie. It felt like a lifetime since they’d left the room that morning, since she’d torn herself out of his warm embrace to rush to the bathroom to throw up. He’d followed her immediately, rubbed her back until she was done and then pulled a can of ginger ale seemingly out of nowhere, a soft smile on his face as they sat on the bathroom floor until her stomach settled. 

As she tries to walk past him to get into bed, not caring it wasn’t even dark outside yet, he wraps his hand around her wrist, squeezing just enough to keep her in place. 

“Em, please,” he says, looking up at her, concern laced through his expression, “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” 

She sighs, guilt for making him worry lancing through her, briefly replacing the irritation she’d been feeling all day, “The baby is fine, honey,” she says, smiling as his gaze flicks to her still flat belly as if he was looking for confirmation, “I promise.” 

His frown only gets deeper as he looks back up at her face, “What is it then? You haven’t been yourself all day.” 

She sighs and closes her eyes, her tongue peeking out and licking her lips as she tries to find the right words, “It’s stupid.” 

He shifts his grasp from her wrist to her hand and links their fingers together, gently tugging her down to join him on the bed, “If something is bothering you, it’s never stupid.” 

She presses her lips together and stares at him for a second before she looks down at their joint hands, the glint of his wedding ring in the low light of the room briefly making her smile. She blows out a slow breath and scrunches her nose up as she speaks, the words sounding close to juvenile as she says them out loud.

“Officer Thompson was flirting with you all day,” she says, and the words hang in the air around them for a moment. When he doesn’t say anything back she looks at him and feels her irritation return when he looks confused, “Before you try and say she wasn’t flirting, even JJ picked up on it.” 

“Sweetheart-”

“And I know you don’t see it but that makes it worse,” she says, the words escaping without her meaning to say them, the dam breached now she’s started, “You don’t realise how insanely hot you are, and how these women are like a moth to a flame when you’re around with your big stupid hands that make your gun look like a toy from the dollar store. And it drives me insane-”

“Em-”

“And she’s young and attractive, and probably isn’t covered in scars or about to get really fat because she’s having a baby,” she continues, not realising that had been part of why she was so affected until she says it, her chest easing as soon as she admits it to him, “So I know it’s unfair, and I know you haven’t done anything, but I am just…so angry at you for not realising what was happening and putting a stop to it.” 

They fall into silence when she finally stops, the rant neither of them had been expecting at its end. Aaron stares at her, and she can practically see his brain working, how he’s trying to figure out how to respond without upsetting his wife. Eventually, he sighs and sandwiches her hand between both of his, the warmth of his skin passing to hers as he squeezes. 

“Even if she was flirting-”

“She absolutely was-”

“I don’t notice because you’re the only person I ever notice, sweetheart,” he says, smiling when her frown relaxes, “You’re the one I look for no matter what room I’m in, and no matter who I’m with,” he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his touch immediately relaxing her as he purposely lets his thumb linger on her cheek, “I’ll try and be better at noticing these things, and I’ll shut it down if I do, but you’ve got to know you’re it for me.” 

She feels her chest tighten, emotions she had once been able to control climbing up her throat as she tries to swallow them back, “You’re it for me too.” 

He leans forward and kisses her, catching the tip of her nose before he stamps his lips against hers, “I’ll ask that Officer Thompson is put on another case tomorrow.” 

Her eyes go wide as she pulls back, embarrassment burning in her cheeks as she shakes her head, feeling even more ridiculous than she had before, “No, Aaron, that’s not-”

“You’re my priority and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, “I’m sure she’ll get over it.” 

Emily hums and tilts her head to look up at him, “As the last person you tried to throw off your team, I’ve got to say you don’t have a great track record of getting rid of us.” 

He chuckles and shakes his head at her before he kisses the side of her head, “You’re the exception, Em. You always have been,” he kisses her cheek and pulls back, running his hand up and down her arm as she snuggles against him, so exhausted she’s sure she could fall asleep sitting up like this, “So JJ noticed?”

She laughs dryly, “Yeah,” she says, shaking her head as she remembers her earlier conversation with her friend, and she shifts their joint hands to her belly, “The flirting isn’t the only thing she noticed” 

He frowns at her, his eyebrows threaded together with confusion, “Wait, what?” 

-x-

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*screams*

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Sixty

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

As ever, thank you so so much for your love on this fic. It means so much.

I cannot believe we are at 60 chapters on this fic!! It's truly mindblowing, and I am so so grateful you are all still here for the ride. As I always say, I love this version of them and have a lot of plans for them - so as long as you are still enjoying it, I'll still write it! This chapter also brings us to the 200k words mark for this fic!!

Since we are celebrating two milestones with this chapter...it's a bit of a special one, loosely based on a Castle episode.

I look forward to the yelling.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 6.3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily curses under her breath as she rushes around the kitchen, grabs her phone and shoves it into her pocket. 

She was running late. 

Her team had been called in to scout out an abandoned building that was thought to be the base of an unsub who had sent bomb threats to several politicians. It was rare for her to leave for work before Aaron and it had disrupted their morning routine, making her feel off-kilter. Aaron had taken over with Lily that morning, right down to feeding her to give her time to get ready. It meant Emily hadn’t nursed her little girl like she usually did first thing in the morning, something that she liked to do, the quiet time that was often just her and Lily precious to her.

Emily pats herself down, ensuring she has everything she needs, and she winces as she swallows down a gulp of far too hot coffee. She walks out into the hallway and feels herself calm down the moment she sees Aaron standing there, Lily on his hip and a muslin thrown over his shoulder to protect his suit because Lily had only just had her breakfast. The little girl had a knack for spitting up on their work clothes more than she did on anything else they wore, Aaron always joked it was their daughter’s way of protesting them going to work. 

“Look princess,” Aaron says, tickling Lily’s belly to pull a laugh out of her, smiling when the sweet sound does what he’d hoped for and eases some of the tension in Emily’s shoulders, “Mommy is all ready to go.” 

She smiles and walks over, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s cheek, “I used to be able to get ready so much quicker than this.” 

“To be fair, sweetheart,” he says, adjusting his hold on Lily so he can wrap an arm around Emily and pull her closer, allowing himself to enjoy a moment with both of his girls in his arms, “You never used to have to feed a baby or pump before you left the house in the morning.” 

She hums in agreement and reaches over to cup Lily’s head, running her fingers through the baby’s soft hair. 

“That is true sweet girl, I used to be much more punctual before you,” she leans forward and kisses Lily’s cheek, smiling when she giggles again, “Good thing you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” she looks at her watch and groans, “I need to go, my boss hates me enough as it is.” 

“Carson doesn’t hate you, Em,” Aaron replies, smiling wryly at his wife. 

“Well, he doesn’t like me as much as my old boss did,” she says, raising her eyebrow and smirking at him. He narrows his eyes playfully. 

“Considering you married your last boss I should hope he doesn’t.” 

She chuckles and leans in to kiss Lily’s forehead, “Mommy loves you, baby,” she says, pulling away again, “I’ll see you later.”

Aaron smiles at  her and raises his eyebrow, “What about me?”

She winks at him and kisses his cheek, “Mommy loves you too,” she jokes and he grimaces, making her laugh again and she stamps a kiss against his lips, “Love you, honey.” 

“Love you too, sweetheart.” 

She pulls away and grabs her bag from the floor, smiling as she turns back to look at them, “See you later.” 

He waves goodbye, smiling when Lily does the same, and turns his attention back to her when the door closes.

“Well, Lily-Pad, looks like it’s just the two of us. And it’s almost time for you to go to daycare.” He says, and Lily spits up, in response, managing to narrowly miss the muslin on his shoulder, staining his suit jacket. He sighs and starts to walk upstairs, “Okay, change of clothes first, then daycare.”

___

“Nice for you to join us, Prentiss.”

Emily forces a smile onto her face as she walks over to her team, her bosses clipped words in the air around them, an attempt to embarrass her that she won’t let him have. She comes to a stop when she’s level with them all, “Sorry, sir.” 

Peter Carson raises his eyebrow at her but doesn’t say anything else as he starts to address the team as a whole, “We need to check every floor. Bomb squad has done a sweep already and did not find any devices. Pair off to make it quicker,” he looks at Emily and then the man on her left, “Connors, you’re with Prentiss. Show her the ropes. You guys take the fourth floor.” 

Emily clenches her teeth to stop herself from saying anything until he’s out of earshot, flanked by other members of the team as they start to walk into the building. Once Carson is out of earshot she rolls her eyes.

“Show her the ropes,” she mutters under her breath, “I’ve been in the FBI since I was 24. I think I can handle a building sweep,” she hears a chuckle next to her and narrows her eyes at him. Steve Connors was the closest thing she had to a friend in the counterterrorism unit. He was old school, and had been around for so long everyone always joked he was like part of the furniture. He reminded her of Dave, and it was always nice to have someone on her side. “What’s so funny Connors?” 

He shrugs at her, “I’ve told you before, Prentiss,” he says, “You’re still the new kid on the team. He’ll let up eventually.”

“I’ve been here four months,” she grumbles as they enter the building, ‘When do I stop being the new kid?” 

They walk up the stairs to the second floor, their footsteps loud on the metal steps, echoing around them in the otherwise silent building, “As soon as someone else joins the team.” 

She huffs out a breath and shakes her head as he opens the door for her and lets her in ahead of him, “Excellent,” she replies sarcastically, looking back over her shoulder at him as she walks further into the room, “So I have to deal with this until you retire or die of old age at your desk.”

His response is cut off as she takes a step and a loud click rings throughout the room. It echoes, bouncing off the bare walls, seemingly taunting them as it makes its way back to them, louder than it had been before. She looks at the ground beneath her and sees that the floorboards are new, a fresh patch of wood in comparison to the rest of it, stark and bright against the rest of the grimy and partially rotten floor.

“What the hell was that-”

“Don’t come any closer,” she says, cutting him off, desperately staying as still as she can, her body tight as she tries not to move, “I…I think I’m standing on a pressure plate.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide as he looks at her, his eyes drifting back down to the floor, “You’re standing on a bomb.”

She swallows thickly, her breath shaky as she replies, not even daring to nod her head, worried that the slightest movement could set off the explosives beneath her feet.

“Yeah,” she replies, “I’m standing on a bomb.” 

___

Aaron rolls his neck as he moves another completed case file from the ‘to-do’ pile to the ‘completed’ one. He hated paperwork just as much as everyone else, but he was grateful for it when it meant he wasn’t away on a case, when it meant he’d be able to go home to his wife and daughter instead of to an empty hotel room in the middle of nowhere.

He smiles when he looks at the pictures he has on his desk, a double frame with a picture of him, Emily and Jack on the day they got married, his palm on Emily’s bump as they all smile at the camera. The second picture is from the day they brought Lily home, a selfie he had taken of him, his wife and his little girl. He can see the exhaustion in his own eyes, a moment in time when he’d felt so many different emotions all at once trapped behind glass. The overwhelming love clear in the way his cheek was pressed against Emily’s, the way his palm was gently placed on a newborn Lily’s back. He can also see the desperation in it, the way he was still reeling from how he could have lost one or both of them. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a knock on his office door, and he smiles tightly as he looks up to see Chief Strauss standing there. She smiles, a nervous edge to it as she walks into his office and closes the door behind her. 

“Chief Strauss,” he says curiously, standing up and abandoning his pen on the desk, “How can I help?” 

She clears her throat as she folds her hands in front of her, “The BAU has been asked to assist another unit with an urgent case,” she says, pressing her lips together before she continues, as if she’s choosing her words carefully, “I’ve asked Agent Morgan to brief the rest of the team.” 

He frowns, his curiosity turning into concern, an edge of irritation wrapped around it at the realisation she’s asked Derek to lead the case, “Why is Morgan in charge?”

She sighs and steps closer, “The unit in question is the Counterterrorism unit,” she says, a hint of kindness in her voice that seems misplaced, only making him more anxious, “An agent stood on what they thought was a pressure plate. It’s just been confirmed they are standing on enough C4 to take out the entire building.” 

“How the hell did that happen? Didn’t they sweep the damn building?”

She places her hands on her hips and nods, “They did, but Carson didn’t wait for them to finish. I have it on good authority he assured the team it was clear before he sent them in.” 

He feels himself shutting down. Anger and fear making him nauseous as they fill his chest, corrupting his lungs as he tries and fails to heave in a breath. The pictures on his desk almost taunting him out of the corner of his eye as he tenses, his heart dropping into his stomach as he asks a question he already knows the answer to. 

“Who’s the agent?” He asks, his voice tight as he stares at her, his gaze unrelenting. She doesn’t answer, doesn’t say anything, and he feels himself losing whatever grip he has left on his control, “Erin,” he says, making a point of using her first name, a blatant mix of insubordination and attempting to reach her on a personal level, “Who’s the agent?” 

She closes her eyes and nods, “It’s Emily.” 

He’s already moving, stepping out from behind his desk before she can stop him. He’s out in the bullpen already by the time she does, the way she shouts his surname echoing around the usually bustling office. 

“She is my wife,” he says, ignoring how the team are looking at him from the conference room, their gazes burning even through the glass “You can’t expect me to just…sit here and wait for news.”

She sighs and nods, “I know I can’t,” she says, and he takes it as a green light, turning around again before she carries on, “Aaron,” she adds, and he looks at her, his body practically vibrating with everything he is feeling and she clears her throat, “Just don’t do anything that will mean I have to fire you, okay?” 

He swears he sees a flicker of a smile go across her face, but he doesn’t have time to analyse it, already on the move as he replies.

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

___

Aaron doesn’t remember a single second of the journey to the site. 

He’s out of the car in seconds after it’s parked, his badge in his hands to flash at the cops on the barricade, the combination of it and the glare on his face enough to get him through. 

He feels fury burning in his blood the moment he sees Peter Carson. He’s walking over before he can stop himself, throwing off any attempts from Derek or Dave to stop him, and he’s got his hand wrapped up in Peter’s jacket as he pushes him up against a wall before he can think about what he’s doing. 

“Hotchner,” Peter says, his eyes slightly wide as he tries to pull himself out of Aaron’s grasp, unable to do so as Aaron tightens his grip, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He clenches his teeth, “Don’t do anything stupid?” He seethes, anger he’d never felt before taking over, the bitter taste of a man he once swore he’d never be on the tip of his tongue. ] “Like send my team into a building before I was sure it was clear of explosives.” 

“The bomb squad-”

“They told you they had one more floor to check,” he says, his grip on the other man’s jacket so tight he thinks he might rip the material, “And you sent them in there anyway. If anything happens to her, if she has a single scratch on her, I will destroy you.” 

He lets go, letting Peter fall to the floor as he walks away without saying anything else, ignoring the looks on the other agent’s faces. He’s stopped as he’s about to enter the building, a member of the bomb squad placing his hand on his chest to prevent him from going any further. 

“Agent, I’m sorry but no one else-”

“That’s my wife in there,” Aaron says, cutting him off, “I’m going in with or without your help.” 

The air is tense as the agent in front of him looks to his superior, but Aaron watches as the men exchange a small nod. He has a Kevlar vest pressed into his hands, something he knows wouldn’t help him if the bomb went off, and he nods, pulling it over his head as he walks into the building, determination in every step.

He takes the steps two at a time, desperate to see Emily, to help in whatever way he can. As soon as he’s on the second floor he gives himself a moment to gather himself, to pull himself together. He knew she was strong, it was one of the many things he loved about her, but he also knew if he walked in, worry etched on his face, she’d start to crack. She often said he’d crawled underneath her walls, that he’d cracked her impenetrable armour from the inside out. He had to keep it together for her.

He could fall apart later, when she was home and safe with their little girl in her arms. 

He blows out a breath and steps into the room. He smiles in a way he hopes is encouraging when she looks up at him, confusion and panic flashing through her eyes.

“Aaron,” she chokes out, clenching her fists by her side, her nails digging into her palms as she reminds herself that she couldn’t rush over to him like she wants to, “What are you doing here?”

He steps closer, but is stopped by a man in the room he hadn’t seen when he walked in, his hand on his shoulder, “You can’t get any closer, sir,” he says, pointing at the circle on the ground, drawn around where Emily was standing and the surrounding area, “The pressure plate can be triggered within that space.” 

He nods, clenching his teeth as he tries to suppress the anger, his jaw so tight he thinks it could break. He looks back over at his wife and forces a soft smile, desperate to act like this was normal, like she wasn’t standing on a bomb big enough to kill them both and everyone in the surrounding area. 

“Strauss told me what happened, I had to come see you,” he says, “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t come to check on my wife who is standing on a bomb?”

She glares at him, his attempt at humour falling flat as she feels her heart break in her chest, “Aaron-”

“You would have come too,” he says, cutting over her protest, “If it was the other way around, you would be standing right here.” 

She sighs, knowing that he’s right. She would have done exactly what he has and she can’t deny it, “It’s stupid.” 

He chuckles slightly, the sound rough and painful as it tears its way past his ribs, “I never said it was smart,” he replies, and she smiles at him. The moment fades, the seriousness of the situation washing over them again, “What's the situation with the bomb?” 

“The bomb squad are trying to disarm it,” she says, blowing out a slow breath, “But it’s complicated and… there's a timer. It’s got…” she drifts off, unable to remember how much time was left, her mind hazy with fear she was refusing to feel, and thoughts about never seeing her daughter again that she was not going to entertain. 

“Two hours and ten minutes left,” the man in the corner of the room answers and Emily nods in thanks.

“Yeah, two hours and ten minutes,” she says, her eyes boring into Aaron’s, “So if they can’t figure it out in time…it will still blow up no matter how still I stand on it.” 

“It won’t come to that,” he says, sounding more sure than he feels, “And if it gets close we’ll-”

“What? Replace me with a giant bag of gold coins?” She asks incredulously, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “This isn’t a movie Aaron. If I move I…If I move, I die. So does anyone else thats too close.” 

Her words hang heavy in the air around them, cloying and suffocating as they try to breathe, the implications of what this could mean too much to bear.

“Like I said,” he says eventually, “It won’t come to that.”

They mostly stand there in silence, long stretches of deadly quiet occasionally interspersed by one of them making an occasional comment. He doesn’t sit, even though he could, because he wants to show solidarity, provide physical support even though he can’t hug her like he wants to. 

Time moves slowly, the seconds agonising as she feels every muscle in her body burn from standing still for so long. Her legs are stiff, sore and aching in a way she didn’t know was possible and she groans, clenching her fists at her side again in an attempt to distract herself. 

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asks, and she looks at him, her glare sharp as their eyes meet, and he clears his throat, “Physically I mean.” 

“Like I’ve done a triathlon or something,” she replies, “My entire body aches. Especially my feet.” 

“When we get home I’ll give you a massage,” he says, “And run you a bath with all your favourite-”

She knows he doesn’t deserve it, that he’s just trying to help, but his relentless optimism, a defence mechanism she knows is his attempt at keeping himself together, is starting to grate on her. She could feel every one of her nerve endings starting to fray, and it was easier to be angry at him than at the situation, because he’d forgive her. 

Whether she survived or not. 

“Aaron,” she says, cutting him off, “Just stop it. I might not make it home.” 

“Em,” he replies, as if physically wounded, taking a step back from her, “Don’t say that-”

“It’s true,” she says, pressing her lips together, the look on his face enough to break her heart in two, “It’s true and we need to talk about it,” she waits until he nods, a subtle thing that seems to knock down the rest of his defences, his shoulders sagging as if they had the weight of the world on them, “I need you to promise me something.” 

“Anything.” 

She can’t help but smile at the lack of hesitation, as the promise escapes without him consciously meaning it to, his love for her as natural to him as breathing, “If…if we get too close to the countdown you have to leave.” 

He frowns and he shakes his head, his chest constricting as he attempts to refuse a request from her, something he had rarely done, “Em, no-”

“Lily will need one of us,” she says, her words a physical blow. She knows it’s mean, that it’s playing dirty, but it’s also true. The mention of her daughter makes tears press at the back of her eyes for the first time since she’d walked into the building, the thought of never seeing her daughter again, of Lily growing up without her, enough to break her, “She can’t lose us both. Jack needs you too and…” she drifts off, a tear breaking free and sliding down her cheek. She can’t move to wipe it away so she lets it burn a track in her skin, leaving behind a mark she’s sure will be permanent, “You have to promise me.” 

He hates it, hates that she’s asking this of him, that she wants him to walk away and leave her behind if the worst comes to the worst, but he knows she’s right. That it would be selfish for him to stay behind, to die with her, when he has the chance to walk away and be with their children. 

“Okay,” he says, the word bitter on his tongue as he promises her, the relief on her face enough to make him want to cry himself, “Okay, I promise.”

___

He wants to take it back.

As the deadline for the bomb gets closer, he wants to take his promise back, the thought of leaving her here enough to tear him apart. The silence around them is loud, and overbearing, and he hates that this could be the last time he sees her, that his final moments with the woman he loves would be spent uselessly standing away from her, unable to provide any kind of comfort. 

“There are 15 minutes left,” the man in the corner says, “They are clearing the block. The squad trying to disarm the bomb will be here until the last possible second.” 

“Aaron,” Emily says, her breath shaky as she says his name, “It’s time to-”

“No.”

She sighs, tears spilling down her cheeks again, “You promised.”

He clenches his teeth and closes his eyes before he turns to look at the man behind him, “Can we have a couple of minutes alone please?” 

He nods and leaves them alone, standing just on the other side of the door, an apologetic look on his face that tears through them both. 

“How am I supposed to just walk away, Em?” He asks, pleading with her, “How do I just…leave you here to die?” 

She doesn’t have an answer, because she knows if their positions were swapped and he’d asked the impossible of her she’d struggle too. Their love for each other keeping them tethered together, a connection they’d sworn to never break. 

“Please tell Lily about me,” she says, ignoring his question on purpose, knowing she’d never answer in a way that would help, “And tell her that I love her so-”

“Emily,” he says, cutting over her, “Please, don’t-”

“And tell her that I’m sorry, that being her mom was the best thing I ever did with my life and that more than anything I wished I could have stayed,” her chest aches with the sobs she keeps trapped in it, terrified that if she let herself breakdown in the way she needed to she’d move, her body carrying itself forward towards him by some kind of instinct. She can’t stop the tears though, streaming down her face and making her cheeks and neck sticky as they run over tried tracks, “And tell Jack too, make sure he knows I love him just as much as I love her.” 

He clenches his teeth, angry at his wife in a way he hadn’t been before, the anger easier to feel than the preemptive grief climbing up his chest, his words rough as they tear themselves up his throat. “I’ll tell her. She’ll always know what an amazing mother she has.” 

“I love you so much,” she says, pressing her lips together as a laugh she can’t contain slips free, the sound as absurd as it was inappropriate, “I love you so much it makes me feel like I’m crazy sometimes, like I’ve turned into one of those women in the romance novels I hate. But I wouldn’t change a thing,” she smiles wryly, “Except maybe the stepping on a bomb thing.” 

He laughs, and it hurts, catching on a sob that had gathered around his ribs, “I love you too. More than I can say. I…” he drifts off, shaking his head at himself as he struggles to find the words, “You’re the love of my life Emily Hotchner. And my best friend.” 

She smiles shakily at him, “You’re mine too. You’re everything,” she looks past him at the guard they’d had looking at them through the window and she sighs, “You’ve got to go.” 

It goes against every instinct in him, forcing him to fight himself as he nods, “I love you,” he says again, wanting to make sure it was the last thing he said to her, that she would remember it. 

“I love you too,” she says, smiling at him before he turns away, looking back at her as he walks out of the room, his smile tight and unnatural before he disappears from view. She blows out a shaky breath and feels more tears burn down her cheeks, “I’m sorry.”

Her apology echoes around the empty room around her, bouncing around the space as she tries to figure out who it’s for.

___

The moment he steps outside he sees the team. Derek rushes over to him, his brow creased as he makes it to his side.

“Hotch, where is she?” 

He nods over his shoulder, “She’s in there, she made me leave-”

“We got the unsub,” Derek says cutting over him, his words filling Aaron’s chest with something close to hope for the first time in hours, “We got the plans for the bomb too, Garcia sent them to the bomb squad.”

“How long will it take?” Aaron insists, the thought of being able to save her but not having enough time almost worse than not being able to do anything at all.

“How long have we got?” Derek asks, looking back and forth between Aaron and the building behind him. Aaron checks his phone, the countdown he’d put on there staring back at him.

“Ten minutes.”

Derek nods, “Then I guess it will take ten minutes.” 

Time moves like syrup as they wait for the bomb squad to get in touch, and Aaron can’t help but pace back and forth, impatience and anxiety forcing him to move. If he stood still, if he stopped even for a second, he’d run back into the building to be with her, breaking his final promise to her. 

He freezes when he hears the crackle over the handset in Derek’s belt, his whole world narrowing down to the voice he’d never heard before, “We’ve got it. The bomb is disarmed.” 

Aaron feels his body sag, relief making him briefly lose his footing, “It’s done?” 

“It’s done.”

___

Emily blows out a steady breath as she closes her eyes, counting down seconds, her chest stuttering every time she tries to suck in air. 

She wonders if in another situation, in another world, if she’d find some kind of peace in this, but she can’t. The thought of everything she was leaving behind, everything she was going to lose, was too much to bear. She’d spent so much of her life alone, so many years purposely not making connections with people because they hurt too much. People had always let her down in the end until she fell in love with Aaron, his loyalty something she still wasn’t quite sure she deserved. 

She jumps when she hears a loud noise, her body getting briefly tense as she realises she’s moved, and she opens her eyes, her breath catching in her chest when her gaze lands on her husband.

“Aaron?” She asks, fury burning at her insides, anger that he broke his promise and made this the last thing he would do for her flowing through her, “What are you-”

“They disarmed the bomb,” he says, cutting over her anger. He suppresses a smile as she frowns at him, her eyebrows creasing together as she shakes her head. 

“What?” She stutters, staring at the ground, the place she’d stood for hours, “No. They said…”

He walks towards her, crossing over the line that had been drawn around her and he stands just in front of her. He reaches out and touches her cheek, revelling in the ability to do so after thinking he’d touched her for the last time.

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers, “It’s over.” 

She collapses into him, her legs giving out as she wraps her arms around him and lets her take her weight. She sobs with relief, her face pressed into his neck as she squeezes him tighter than she thought she’d be able to.

“It’s over,” she sobs, her words muffled against his skin as she grasps at his shirt, needing to touch as much of him as possible, “It’s over.” 

He kisses the top of her head as she continues to repeat the words to herself, as if she still doesn’t quite believe them. He lets her take all the time she needs, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as he enjoys holding her close, his lips against her forehead. 

“Can we go home?” She asks eventually, her voice quiet and gravelly, everything she hadn’t allowed herself to feel all day finally set free, “I really want to see Lily and just…I need to see her.” 

“Of course,” he says, pulling back to look at her, stamping a kiss to her lips that has an edge of desperation to it, “We’ll go home,” he takes a step back and she stumbles, her legs unsteady, and he wraps his arm around her waist, “Do you need me to carry you?” 

“If you try I’ll kill you,” she grumbles and he laughs, kissing her temple as he lets her lean on him, most of her weight against his side. 

They slowly make it outside and he feels his wife tense against him as the others all rush over. She’s overwhelmed, sensitive to the bright sun after being trapped inside for most of the day, and sore, her entire body aching like she’d been in a fight. He doesn’t step away from her, both because he doesn’t want to and because he knows she wants him to stay, so he gets caught up in the hugs that she’s pulled into. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay, princess,” Derek says, wrapping an arm around her quickly, “I know I said I missed working with you, but I didn’t mean I miss saving your ass.” 

“Thanks, Derek,” she replies, smiling tightly at him as he pulls back, “Trust me, I haven’t missed that part of it either.” 

“Garcia mentioned going for drinks,” Spencer says, stepping closer to the group, “She said it’s tradition.” 

Emily laughs tightly and she shakes her head, “I just need to go home,” she says, not missing the disappointment on their faces, “I want to see Lily and just…lay down quite honestly.” 

JJ is the first to nod understandingly and she hugs her friend, “I’ll run interference with Pen and make sure she doesn’t call you a thousand times,” she says, squeezing Emily’s shoulder as she pulls back, “I know how insistent she can get.”

Emily smiles and nods, “Thank you,” she looks up at Aaron and she squeezes his hip, “Can we go?”

He nods and pulls her closer, “Let’s go home.” 

___

Emily sighs as she settles into bed, her muscles more relaxed now she’d had a bath. Aaron had, as promised, done it for her - all of her favourite salts in the water to help soothe her sore body. He’d sat on the edge of the tub to keep her company, sensing without her needing to tell him that she didn’t want to be alone. 

She knew it would take a long time for her to process what had happened today, how she’d come so close to dying, to accepting that she was going to die. The thought of leaving Aaron, Lily and Jack behind had been enough to break her, and now it hadn't happened, now she’d survived, it felt all the more awful to think about.

Jack would have had some memories of her, moments of their time together attached to things she’d bought him and events. Hazy pictures brought to life by stories Aaron would tell him once it was no longer too painful to talk about. Lily wouldn’t have remembered her at all. It’s the thought she can’t get away from - that she could have died today and her daughter wouldn’t remember how much she loved her, or the sound of her voice. The warm touch of her skin against hers as she comforted her when she was sick or sad. 

It makes her wonder if she’s doing it all wrong, if the changes she’s made to avoid becoming her own mother were radical enough. She had no need to work financially, but she still chose to. She wanted her children to be proud of her, to know she had done something that made a difference, but if they hadn’t been lucky today, all Lily would know as she got old enough to understand was that Emily had made a choice to put herself in that position. 

She blows out a steady breath and wipes tears from her cheeks, shaking her head at herself as if to physically get rid of those thoughts. She looks up as the bedroom door opens and she smiles at her husband and their daughter, the little girl dressed in her pjyamas and happily sitting on her father’s hip. 

It was strange to think it was just this morning she’d seen them like this. It felt like a lifetime ago, the time that had passed whilst her daughter happily played in daycare some of the longest hours of her life. 

“Here she is,” Aaron says, walking over and handing Lily to her, the baby willingly going into her mother’s arms, “One adorable baby girl in a fresh diaper.” 

“Did Daddy help you get all cleaned up,” Emily says, laying Lily against her, the weight of her daughter on her chest easing some of the residual anxiety that remained there. She smiles at her husband as he settles into bed next to them, “He helped me in the bath earlier too.” 

“Helped. Observed,” he says, winking at her as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, tugging both her and Lily into his embrace, “Two sides of the same coin really.” 

She chuckles lightly and rests her head against him, her eyes fixed on Lily as she watches her fall asleep, her cheek pressed against Emily’s t-shirt. 

“Today was…” she drifts off as her voice catches, blowing out a breath in an attempt to calm herself down, “I don’t even know what it was.” 

He feels the same way. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions and he felt like he was still on the ride doomed to go round and round again and again until he was sick. He can’t put it into words either, can’t explain the fear he’d felt, the grief he was still grappling with at having to say goodbye. 

It would take a while for them to get their heads around it, to talk about what needed to be talked about, but for now he was content to sit here with her and just enjoy the fact that he could. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but checking anyway.

“God no, not yet,” she replies quickly, turning her head to kiss his cheek, “But soon. I promise,” she smiles softly as he rests his cheek on the top of her head, desperate to be as close to him as possible, “A little birdy told me you threatened Carson, and that you pushed him up against a wall.” 

He freezes for a moment before he hums, “Does this little birdy happen to be Italian with a love for gossip that rivals Garcia?”

She smiles as she looks up at him, “Maybe,” she says, biting her lip as she tries to suppress her smile, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yes I did,” he says, “If you’d…” he drifts off and holds her tighter, his heart aching as she reaches out and squeezes his hand, a gentle reminder that she was there with him, “I would have made the bastard pay.” 

She cups his cheek and makes him look at her, her thumb tracing back and forth over his skin before she pulls him in for a kiss, “I love you.” 

It isn’t lost on either of them that the last time she’d said it was when they were standing in a room they thought she’d die in, and it weighs heavily between them for a moment. He lets it pass, reminds himself that they are in their bed, in the home they got together, their little girl fast asleep on Emily’s chest. 

“I love you too.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Fic request🤭 im obsessed with the thought of Hotch letting it slip that him & Emily are dating by accidentally calling her Em while presenting a case/profile 😩😩

Hi bestie <3

As always, this got massively away from me. I really hope you like this and that it's what you were looking to read <3

-x-

Misdemeanour

/ˌmɪsdɪˈmiːnə/

noun.

a minor wrongdoing.

a non-indictable offence considered to be less serious than a felony

AKA the one where Aaron accidentally reveals his and Emily's secret relationship to the team

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 4.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily checks her watch as the elevator continues its journey to the ground floor and she groans at the time.

 6 am. 

There was a time when she would have skipped breakfast when they were on a case, desperate to sleep as long as she feasibly could before she’d meet the team in the lobby just as they were leaving for the precinct. It was something Dave in particular would always make fun of her for, especially when her hanger would kick in just around lunchtime, or she’d snack on cookies given to them by the locals. 

Although she couldn’t deny that eating breakfast gave her more energy in the morning, it wasn’t the food that pulled her out of bed. It was Aaron. 

No one on the team knew about them yet, the 8 months they’d been together was something just for them. Only Jack and Jessica knew, and keeping the secret had become part of the fun. She loved sneaking around with Aaron, loved that their relationship was untouched by outside influence or the opinions of others, but she knew it couldn’t last forever. She wanted everything with him - a house, marriage and hopefully a couple more children, and she knew for that to happen they’d have to let the others in. 

The thought of it made her anxious, the feeling crawling through her chest anytime they discussed when to tell everyone. Change was something that never settled well with their friends, especially since her return from Paris almost a year ago, and she didn’t want to disturb the relative peace they had all found after so much upheaval. But she was looking forward to being able to love him in public, to hold his hand in front of their friends and feel the press of his lips against her cheek when they were somewhere other than one of their apartments or hotel rooms. She knew Aaron would tell their friends in a heartbeat, that he wanted everyone to know they belonged to each other, that it was her anxiety holding them back. He was endlessly patient with her and frequently assured her they’d take it at her pace. 

She blows out a breath as she leaves the elevator, leaving any thoughts about anything other than having breakfast with her boyfriend behind. 

She smiles as soon as she spots him in the restaurant. He’s sitting alone in a large booth, clearly having asked for a table big enough for the whole team. She gives her room number to the waiter and walks over, smiling at Aaron as she slips into the booth, moving around until she sits next to him. This had become a tradition of sorts for them almost as soon as they got together. They’d meet for breakfast before anyone else came down from their rooms, both of them desperate to have as much time together as possible, the thought that they’d already lost so much time over the years never too far away, always lingering the back of their minds with a tinge of regret. 

“Morning,” she says, as if she hadn’t snuck out of his room just 30 minutes ago, the taste of his kiss still lingering on hers as she walked back to her room, the chill of the hallway replacing the warmth of him pressed against her skin. 

“Morning,” he replies, smiling at her softly, nodding towards the cup of coffee and plate with two pastries on it in front of her, “I got you some coffee and something to eat.” 

If he was anyone else she knows it would irritate her. She’d been on dates before when the guy she was with would order for her without even asking, a smug smile on his face as he handed the menus back to the waiter as if what he’d just done was something close to charming. 

With Aaron it was different, he ordered her things he knew she liked. He knew she drank coffee first thing in the morning despite still mostly preferring tea, and he knew she liked to start the day with something sweet to eat. It was one of the many subtle ways he would show his love for her and she adored it. He was the only person in her life she trusted to take care of her, the only person she’d allow to do so, and she wanted nothing more than to let him for the rest of their lives. 

“Thanks, honey,” she says quietly, letting the nickname slip free because they were alone. Her prize is a widening of his smile, the appearance of the dimples in his cheeks that she loves to press her thumbs into when she kisses him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, placing his hand on her thigh, the move hidden by the table, and he squeezes tightly for a moment before he strokes his thumb back and forth, the heat of his skin warming her even through the material of her pants. He smiles when she yawns as she reaches for her coffee, “Tired?”

She hums, narrowing her eyes at the sparkle in his, the soft, funny side of him she would have once thought he wasn’t capable of, “I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” 

She can’t help but smile when he tightens his grip on her leg, purposely pressing his fingers into bruises he’d sucked into her skin the night before, “Me neither.” 

They sit and eat breakfast together, talking about Jack and their plans for when they get home. For her, home was wherever Aaron was. She spent most of her time at his place these days, his closet half full of her clothes and her favourite book on the nightstand on her side of his bed. On the nights she did go back to her apartment it felt empty, quiet in a way she would have once found peace in but now found suffocating. She hadn’t even completely unpacked yet, a couple of boxes of her things still stacked in the home office. Aaron asked her every time he was over if she wanted him to help unpack them for her but she always said no, distracting him with a smile and a kiss, because unpacking felt pointless. Especially since she was sure she’d officially move in with him soon, the moment their friends knew about them the final catalyst they’d need.

She turns to look at him, to sneak a peek of the slope of his nose, the sharp edges of his jaw, and her eyes meet his. Every time she looked at him, he was already looking at her, adoration leaking from every pore in a way that made her fall even more in love with him. 

“What?” She asks, her cheeks warm with a tinge of embarrassment as his smile gets wider. 

“Nothing,” he says, his eyes flicking towards the restaurant entrance, leaning back a little when he sees the rest of the team walking towards them, “You’re just beautiful, that’s all.” 

She doesn’t have time to respond before the others sit down, bringing her alone time with Aaron to an end until they either solve the case and go home or come back to the hotel that evening. 

“Good morning,” Dave says as he sits down, sliding into the booth next to Emily, followed by Derek on his other side, “How did everyone sleep?” 

“Like a baby,” Aaron says, hiding his smile behind his coffee as runs his thumb up the inseam of Emily’s pants. She glances at him through the side of her eyes and places her hand over his on her leg, her nails digging into his skin a little, something that only seems to encourage him more, “What about you, Prentiss? How did you sleep?”

“I slept okay,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “My bed was comfortable. A little too warm though.” 

He shakes his head at her subtly, something only she picks up on, and she presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling. She picks up her coffee to take a sip, distracting herself with the warmth of it.

“You guys are lucky,” JJ says from the end of the table, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting next to her, “Someone on my floor sounded like they were filming a porno in their room,” she says, “I’m surprised you didn’t hear it Hotch, you’re only a few rooms down from me.” 

Emily coughs, choking on the coffee she was swallowing, and everyone looks at her. Aaron pats her on the back, his touch simultaneously helping clear her chest and putting her more on edge. 

“You ok, Prentiss?” Aaron asks, concern slipping into his expression.

“I’m fine,” she wheezes, reaching for a glass of water, “The coffee just went down the wrong way, that’s all.” 

“Maybe this is why you never used to have breakfast with us, Bella,” Dave says, a smirk spreading across his face, “You can’t even drink a cup of coffee correctly first thing in the morning.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, “Shut up, Dave.”

___

He’d once convinced himself he’d never find love again. 

He told himself he didn’t deserve another chance, that Haley had been his one shot and he’d messed it up and that he’d have to spend the rest of his life alone. It was a thought that was only solidified when he’d been unable to save her, her death something that he carried on his shoulders everywhere he went, the weight of it sometimes insurmountable as he watched Jack grow, something Haley would never be able to do. 

He was somewhere close to content with it. The loneliness he’d feel a penance of sorts, a punishment he deserved for not being able to keep his family together and safe.

Then Emily happened. She came back from Paris, fragile in a way only he seemed to be able to see. Everyone else wanted her back as who she was before, their own trauma around what had happened to her, the loss they’d experienced when they thought she was dead, clouding their judgement when it came to how she was doing. 

Aaron knew he was in love with her the moment he sent her away. He’d visited her in the hospital, still wearing the suit he’d worn to her funeral, and apologised to her even though she was unconscious, sedated so she didn’t feel the immeasurable pain her body was in. It was the first time he’d held her hand, her skin colder than he now knew it usually was, and he’d struggled to let go. 

He hadn’t wanted to lose her again, so he’d told her to tell him when she was having a bad day, initially under the guise of needing to know as her boss, a weak excuse that fell away the first day he showed up on her doorstep, Jack by his side, as he insisted she came with them to the park. Things between them had developed quickly, the friendship they’d had before Ian had come into their lives back on track before that itself transformed into something new. He’d felt the shift between them, always caught her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, but he’d held back, not wanting to force her into a situation she wasn’t comfortable with when she was still trying to recover.

She’d kissed him first. Her lips soft against his one evening as they sat together on his couch, his life shifting on its axis again just mere feet away from the last time it had, the outline of where he’d almost bled out on his apartment floor by Foyet’s hand still visible to him occasionally in the dead of night. 

After that, he couldn’t believe he’d once convinced himself he could live without love. Being loved by Emily was something he now couldn’t live without. She always had been a woman of contradictions, and the way she loved was no different. She was subtle about it - leaving him little notes or drawing hearts in the steam on the mirror after she’d showered. She’d make sure he ate at work and switch his coffee to decaf halfway through the day so he’d have some chance of sleeping. She helped Jack with his homework, or played video games with him, purposely losing at MarioKart at the last second so the little boy would win.

She was also loud about her love for him. She’d tell him all the time, the words she’d initially struggled to set free escaping all the time, pressed against his lips each morning as they got out of bed, or his neck as she drifted to sleep at night. She was tactile, finding ways to touch him all the time, even in front of their friends as she let her fingers linger over his when she passed him a case file or a cup of coffee. She spent money on him like it was no issue, which he knew it wasn’t for her, leading to an argument once over her buying him a $15,000 watch when he broke his one morning. 

He hoped more than anything that she felt as loved as he did, that she knew how precious she was to him. How much he treasured her. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to tell everyone how much he loved her, and he knew he would be able to soon, when they finally told their friends they were together. He could wait as long as she needed him to, but he could tell she was close to feeling comfortable with it - her desire to move forward with him, to move in officially, finally outweighing her anxiety around the team's reactions. 

He smiles as he hears her laugh across the conference room they’d set up in. He looks up to find her talking to Dave, a smile on her face as the other man rolls his eyes, clearly at the expense of whatever joke she’d told. He loved her smile. It always lit up whatever room she was in, her beauty drawing in those around her. She looks over at him as if she could sense him looking, and he sees the familiar love sparkling in her eyes. It was the same way she looked at him when they were spending a casual Saturday with Jack, or the way she would look at him when he woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, the ghost of Foyet’s knife hot in his chest. She’d sit up with him, her hand on the back of his neck and her forehead against his until his breathing slowed down, and then she’d pull back and look at him, her eyes full of love and affection as she talked to him about anything and everything as he came back to himself. 

Aaron clears his throat and the team falls into silence as they walk over and sit down he doesn’t miss the flash of amusement that flits across Emily’s face as she takes her seat. She made no secret of the fact she enjoyed it when he commanded a room without even speaking. 

“There was another attack overnight,” he says as he sits down too, “Dave, I need you and Reid to go to the crime scene, see if you can pick up on anything that the locals missed,” he waits for them to nod in confirmation before he turns to Emily, “Em, you and Morgan should go to the hospital - talk to last nights victim.” He frowns when Emily’s eyes go wide, a reaction shortly followed by everyone else tilting their heads at him curiously, looking back and forth between him and Emily, “What?” 

“You called her Em,” Dave says, his eyes narrowing as he looks between them, and Aaron curses himself internally, swallowing thickly as he looks back at Emily who was staring at the table to avoid eye contact with everyone, “Oh my god.” 

Spencer frowns, “I’m confused.” 

“They’re sleeping with each other,” Derek says, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his jaw tense. 

JJ chuckles and leans back in her chair, “Pen was convinced you were seeing someone and I thought she was being crazy.” 

“I’m still confused,” Spencer says, his eyebrows creasing together, “Why does Hotch calling her Em mean they are sleeping together?” 

Dave rolls his eyes, “Because he never calls her anything other than Prentiss. Emily would be weird enough, Em is a whole new-”

“That’s enough,” Aaron says, finally finding his voice, cutting over any further conversation. He looks at Emily and she’s already looking at him, and she nods ever so slightly, silent permission to carry on, “Yes, Emily and I are together,” he holds up his hand to stop them from talking again, his expression stern as he keeps them quiet, “But we are at work and there is an unsub to catch. This can wait.” 

He knows they aren’t happy, a mix of irritation and amusement painted across their faces, but they nod, each of them standing up and ready to go. He gets Emily’s attention, his hand around her wrist in a display of affection he’ll allow himself this once. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, swallowing thickly against the guilt that climbs up his throat, “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” she replies, placing her hand over his as she smiles at him, “I know you didn’t mean to,” she looks over her shoulder and sees their friends looking at them, apart from JJ who was furiously texting, “They know now at least.” 

Aaron looks at Derek, the tension in the man’s frame clear from across the room, “Do you need me to talk to him?” 

Emily smiles lovingly at him and shakes his head, “I can handle Derek,” she frowns as her phone vibrates in her pocket and she rolls her eyes as she opens a text and turns her phone to show him, “Pen knows.” 

YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH THE BOSSMAN?! CALL ME NOW. 

He groans, “It’s going to be a long day.” 

She hums, “So long.”

___

Emily groans as she sits down on the couch in Aaron’s office, “Do you think you could ban them from talking about our relationship ever again?” 

He smiles as he kisses the top of her head before he walks to his desk, putting down the case files in his hand, “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think the president himself could stop them.” 

She scoffs jokingly and narrows her eyes at him, “What is the point of sleeping with the boss if he can’t intimidate your friends for you?” 

She was grateful that they’d finished the case as quickly as they had and that they were home. She hadn’t been able to face the idea of heading back to the hotel with them tonight knowing that the team would be aware they’d be heading to the same room. The flight home had been long, an endless barrage of questions about their relationship, about why they’d kept it secret for 8 months. Overall, it had gone better than she’d expected. They were curious, maybe a little hurt that they’d kept a secret, but they were also happy for them, able to see even only with the small amount of context they had that Emily and Aaron were good for each other. 

Derek had, however, reacted exactly as she thought he would. He’d been off with her all day, only speaking about things related to the case, and had been more passive-aggressive with his questioning than the others. He’d implied things she hadn’t fully understood, her confusion only deepening when Aaron had reacted in a way that seemed over the top, his protective instincts kicking in before he could fully stop them. 

“It’s disappointing I know,” he deadpans, walking back over to sit next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The rest of the team had gone home straight from the jet so it was just the two of them. 

“Can I ask you something?” She says, tilting her head to look at him, and he nods, running his fingers up and down her arm. 

“Anything, you know that.” 

She smiles at him, “What do you Derek meant when he said it was typical for me to sleep with you?” 

He has to cover a growl, the fury he’d felt on the jet coming back in full force as he thinks about it. He’d never told Emily about what Derek had said when she was on the run from Ian, when emotions were running high and everything they’d ever known about her was unravelling right in front of them. He’d been angry at the time when he’d found out about it but had kept it to himself, not wanting to hurt Emily anymore than she’d already been hurt or to fracture her friendship with Derek anymore than it already had been. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, trying to push past it, and she raises her eyebrows at him, her hand reaching for his as she links their fingers together. 

“Aaron, please,” she says, “You almost yelled at him, you looked angry. You clearly thought he was talking about something specific,” she looks at him and waits for him to say something else but he doesn’t. “We don’t lie to each other.” 

He sighs and nods, pulling her slightly closer, “When you were on the run from Ian and we found out about everything, about the nature of your relationship with him, Derek…he said some things,” he says carefully, his heart cracking in his chest when he sees the look on her face, the pieces all falling into place for her.

“Oh,” she says, clearing her throat to try and push her emotions back down into her chest, a mix of anger and sadness burning her from the inside out, “I see.” 

“You know what he’s like, sweetheart,” he says, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek, “He lashes out when he doesn’t know what else to do. It doesn’t excuse it, but it’s what he does.”

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she blows out a steady breath, “Yeah,” she says, smiling tightly at him. A thought occurs to her that makes her nauseous, her stomach rolling as she looks back up at him, “It’s never bothered you, has it?” 

He frowns, looking at her like she is crazy, and he shakes his head, pulling her in for a kiss as if to prove his point, before he looks at her, a hand on each of her cheeks as he holds her in place, “There isn’t a single thing you could ever do that would make me any less in awe of you.” 

She chokes on a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she shakes her head at him, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, his lips just shy of hers when there is a squeal at the door, pulling them both apart. Aaron sighs when he sees Penelope standing in the doorway, “Hi Garcia.”

“Hi,” she says, frozen to the spot, her body tense with what they both knew was excitement, as if moving would make her explode, “This is adorable.” 

Emily has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing at how uncomfortable her boyfriend clearly is. She squeezes his hand, forcing his attention back to her. 

“Honey,” she says, more for Penelope than anyone else, smiling when her friend squeals again, “Why don’t you give us a few minutes?” 

He frowns at her, “This is my office,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow at him. He shakes his head and stamps a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

“Thanks,” she says, watching as he awkwardly nods at Penelope as he walks past her, forcing her to smother another laugh. She smiles at her friend the moment they are alone, “Okay, let me have it.”

Penelope moves faster than Emily thought was possible, already next to her on the couch and talking at the speed of light, “How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell us? JJ wouldn’t tell me anything you told them.” 

“I asked her not to,” Emily explains, “We’ve been together 8 months, and we just…wanted it to ourselves for a while.” 

She knows it’s not a great explanation, that it sounds close to pathetic when said outloud, but it’s the only way she can describe it. She knew on some level she’d miss the secrecy, the way it allowed her to protect something so precious to her for so long, but she was also excited to move forward.

Penelope hums and narrows her eyes, “I’ll accept that for now, but if you think you’re getting away with that answer on the next girl’s night you have another thing coming.” 

Emily laughs and nods, “I’ll have to warn Aaron that you’ll be asking all sorts of questions about our sex life.”

“Bossman does look like he’s got some moves,” Penelope says, “It’s always the quiet, broody ones.” 

Emily hums, “You have no idea.” 

Penelope pulls her into a hug, “I’m so happy for you, Peaches,” she says, squeezing her tightly, “I thought you must have been with someone, you’ve just seemed…lighter recently. I never would have guessed it was Hotch though.” 

She smiles as she pulls back from the hug, “He’s…” she drifts off, not sure how to put it, how to explain just what Aaron was to her, and she sighs, not letting herself overthink it, “Everything.” 

Her friend's eyes go wide and she grasps her hands tightly, “Oh just look at you,” Penelope says, “I’ve never seen you this happy. What did the others say?”

“They were shocked, but happy too,” she says, her smile faltering slightly, “Mostly.” 

Penelope frowns, “What do you mean mostly?” 

Emily sighs,  Aaron’s admission still floating around the back of her mind. She knew she’d have to talk to Derek about it eventually, have it out with him, because she couldn’t let the way he’d spoken about her stand. She wouldn’t let him compare her relationship with Aaron to what she’d had with Ian, wouldn’t let him minimise what she’d fought so hard for. 

“Derek was…being Derek,” she says, scrunching her nose up slightly, “He wasn’t exactly pleased.”

Penelope hums disapprovingly, “You leave him to me, I won’t let him ruin this for me.” 

Emily presses her lips together as an amused smile breaks out across her face, “Don’t you mean you won’t let him ruin his for me and Aaron?” 

Penelope waves at her dismissively, “That too.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

🏆<- for Aaron

Buy the Promises - Chapter 4

It gets harder to keep the promise as time goes on, as Emily goes from his girlfriend to his fiancée to his wife. He wants nothing more than to put Elizabeth in her place, to stop her from hurting her daughter in a way that only she could. 

AKA The three times Aaron doesn't tell Elizabeth off, and the one time he does

Chapter 3/4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

-x-

Hi friends,

Here we are - the one where he DOES tell Elizabeth off. Sorry for the slight delay on this, I've not been well and my internet went down last night.

I hope you like this and please, as always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: brief mentions of labour

Words: 3.7k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron rolls his neck as he climbs out of the car, mentally making a checklist of what he wants to get done over the weekend. It was a habit Emily always gently made fun of him for, a wry smile on her face as she told him not every second had to be accounted for. 

He smiles as he steps into the house, pleased to see that the box that contains the crib is just inside the door. As soon as he saw the email confirming it had been delivered he’d text his wife to say he would take it upstairs to the still partially decorated nursery when he got home. Part of him had imagined he’d walk in the door to find it already up there, Emily’s need for independence one of the many things he’d always loved about her. 

She’d been more willing to take a step back and let him help her since they found out she was pregnant. It had surprised him at first. How she agreed to everything the doctor told them about her taking it easy without argument. She’d stopped going away on cases when she was just over 5 months pregnant, a spike in her blood pressure enough to make her doctor ground her. Aaron had said to her one evening when they were curled up in bed, both their hands on her belly as they waited to feel their daughter move, that he was proud of her for how she’d taken it all in her stride. She’d whispered back, as if scared speaking too loudly would jinx something, that she had waited so long for this, had convinced herself it would never happen, that she didn’t want to risk anything. 

She was close to 7 months along now the due date they’d been given at Emily’s first scan that had once felt so far away feeling within reach. He was looking forward to seeing her, to spending time with her and Jack, after a few days away on a case. 

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” he calls out, dropping his go bag on the floor as he walks further into the house, furrowing his brow when she doesn’t respond. It doesn’t take him long to find her, but he frowns when he does, his concern rising as he immediately picks up on the fact she’s annoyed. 

He approaches her carefully, her fury rolling off of her in waves as she paces back and forth in the living room. He’d never dare tell her, but she looked adorable. She’s wearing a t-shirt that used to be his, the material tight around her bump, and a pair of leggings, an outfit she often wore at home now - changing into it from her work clothes the moment she stepped into the house. 

As he gets closer he realises she’s muttering to herself, her eyes slightly wild as her jaw flexes, her irritation clear. 

“Sweetheart,” he says as he steps into the living room, his presence finally registering as she stops pacing and looks at him. 

“Hi,” she says, clearing her throat as she looks at him, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, “When did you get home?” 

“A couple of minutes ago,” he says, not mentioning that he’d called for her when he opened the front door, “Is everything okay?” 

She huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes, “I spoke to my mother.” 

He berates himself for not thinking about it the moment he walked in and saw her pacing. There was only one person on earth who could get to Emily to the point where she was physically irritated. Even with her pregnancy hormones, which had given her more of a short fuse than normal, she was mostly able to keep it together - apart from the one time Derek unknowingly ate her snack one morning in the office. Elizabeth had this ability to undo Emily, to pull apart the walls she’d built around her brick by brick. 

He clenches his teeth and gives himself a moment to get through the immediate irritation that rushes through him whilst he wonders what his mother-in-law has done this time, “What happened?” 

“She called and we talked about the baby,” she rubs a circle on her belly, “And she said she wants to be there when I give birth.” 

It’s the last thing Aaron expects to hear and it makes him furrow his brows, a laugh escaping him before he can stop it, “She wants to do what?” 

“We’re talking about the woman who didn’t even come with me to the hospital when I was 7 and had to get my tonsils out, but this she wants to be there for? When I have a person tunnelling out of me?” 

Aaron frowns, finally interjecting into her rant, unable to stop himself, “She didn’t go with you to the hospital when you had your tonsils out?” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes, her arms crossed and resting on the top of her bump, “The nanny came with me,” she huffs out and she shakes her head, “And that’s not the point I was trying to make. I don’t want her there,” she shrugs, “I don’t even know if I would if we had a ‘normal’ relationship.” 

“Em,” he says, stepping closer to her and placing his hand on her back, smiling at the press of her stomach between them, “It’s your decision. If you don’t want her there I won’t let her attempt to guilt you into it.” 

She smiles, pressing her lips together in an attempt to hide it, and she raises her eyebrow “You won’t let her?” 

“I won’t,” he says, kissing her again, “How did you leave it with her?”

She groans and rests her forehead against his, “I told her I’d think about it, even though I don’t have to,” she pulls back to look at him, “I just want it to be you.” 

He nods and runs his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he holds her in place, “Then it will just be me, you, and her,” he says, placing his hand on her stomach, smiling when he feels the baby kick, “She’s kicking a lot.”

Emily hums and places her hand over his on her belly, shifting it to where she can feel the baby moving even more, an elbow sticking into her ribs as if the little girl was begging for attention.

“She missed her daddy,” Emily replies, “I missed him too.” 

“I missed all of you,” he says, dropping a kiss on her forehead before he leads her over to the couch, “Where’s Jack?” 

She grunts as she lowers onto the couch, the movement forcing the air from her lungs, “Jess picked him up from school and took him for dinner, he’ll be home soon.” 

“Have you eaten?”

She shakes her head and rests against him, wrapping her arms around one of his as she feels him start to move, intent on making sure she ate something before he ever truly relaxed on the couch, “No. But let's sit here for a bit, then I’ll eat whatever healthy crap you pull together for me and baby girl.” 

He smiles against her hairline, “Even even if I put brussell sprouts in it?” 

She scrunches her nose and looks up at him, her disgust clear, “Don’t push your luck honey.”

___

Two Months Later

She feels nervous. It’s shifting around under her skin, making her restless, itching at a scratch that doesn’t exist as she looks at the time and huffs out a breath. 

“There she is Mia,” Aaron says as he walks back into the living room, their 5-day-old daughter against his chest almost impossibly tiny in his hands, “Mommy is right where we left her.” 

Emily immediately feels a little calmer the moment she sees her baby, and she playfully rolls her eyes at her husband as he passes Mia over, “Because Daddy told me to stay here whilst he changed your diaper.” 

He sits next to them, his smile wide at the sight of his girls together, “You had major surgery 5 days ago, sweetheart,” he says, carefully looping his arm over her shoulder before he pulls her towards him gently, “I’m going to look after both of you.”

She smiles softly and kisses the top of Mia’s head, holding her closer at the mention of her birth. Things hadn’t gone the way she planned at all, and in the end, after a very long labour that ended up stalling, her doctor decided a c-section was the safest thing for her and her baby. It hadn’t been what she wanted but as soon as she was handed her little girl the fear and disappointment disappeared. It was a moment she’d been waiting for much longer than the almost 9 months she’d been pregnant. 

She looks up at Aaron and feels her heart clench at the barely concealed fear that still lingers in his eyes. He’d been her rock during labour, the support she’d needed at every awful turn, but she knew him well enough to know he’d barely held himself together at times. Seeing her in pain had always been his Achilles heel. He’d been treating her like she was made of glass ever since, like she was fragile, and she was letting him - partially because she felt like she was. Like she could shatter at the tiniest thing, physically and emotionally exhausted in a way she’d never felt before. She’d let him look after her like this until she felt more like herself again. 

Or, at least until Mia was the only one wearing a diaper. 

“My mother will be here soon,” she says, resting her cheek on top of Mia’s head, the thought of it making her blow out a shaky breath. Her mother could pick at her insecurities easily when she was at her best, but right now she could barely stand up without needing help from Aaron. He knew she needed the support for this, even though she’d never ask, so he’d made sure Jack was out with Jessica for the afternoon so his attention could be solely on his wife and what she needs. 

“Are you okay, Em?” He asks, stroking her cheek, protectiveness sparking in his belly.

She sighs, “Yeah,” she says, smiling tightly at him, “No. I don’t know,” she chuckles humourlessly at herself, “She’s criticised everything I’ve ever done. My degree, my career…marrying you,” she pauses as they exchange a smile, “And I’ve always done my best to take it in my stride. But…if she says something about Mia I don’t think I could take it,” she looks down at the baby contentedly sleeping against her, “I mean look at her Aaron. She’s perfect.” 

“I know she is,” he says, kissing Emily’s temple, “She’s just like you,” he adds, and she chuckles and shakes her head at him, “Em, she’s coming to meet her granddaughter,” he says, pushing some of her hair from her face, “She’ll behave.”

She hums and smiles at him, “Why does that kind of sound like a threat?” 

He’s cut off from responding, his comment that it absolutely was a threat on the tip of his tongue, as the doorbell rings. He feels Emily tense against him and he kisses her before he stands up, winking at her before he leaves the room. 

“You two stay there and look pretty, I’ll be back,” he says as he walks towards the front door. He gets to the door quickly before Elizabeth can ring the doorbell again, not wanting Mia to wake up. He takes a steady breath as he pulls the door open and smiles at his mother-in-law as his eyes meet hers, “Elizabeth, good to see you.” 

“You too, Aaron,” she says, stepping into the house and past him, “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you,” he replies, closing the door and leading the way to the living room, “They are just through here.” 

He pauses in the doorway when Elizabeth steps into the room, giving them a moment alone but lingering just on the perimeter. In any other situation, if his mother-in-law was anyone else, he’s sure this would be a moment full of nothing but joy. A mother watching her little girl holding her own little girl. He had more time than he cared to admit wishing Emily had the mother she’d deserved, but he also knew if she had, if Elizabeth had been who she needed, then Emily wouldn’t be who she was. In a way that felt endlessly selfish, he was glad for it. Grateful Emily’s life had led her straight to him. 

He couldn’t imagine his life without her. 

“Hi Mom,” Emily says, smiling up at her, her chest warm at the look on her mother’s face, a tender look she had only ever seen a handful of times throughout her life, “This is Mia.” 

Elizabeth pauses before she sits down, her breath catching in her chest for a moment before she sits next to Emily, “Hello Mia,” she says, smiling up at Emily, “Can I hold her?”

Emily nods and shifts, covering a wince as she passes the baby over, “Careful with her-”

“Head, I do know how to hold a baby, Emily,” Elizabeth says, raising her eyebrow at her as she settles Mia into the crook of her arm. 

Emily throws Aaron a look and he walks over, slipping in next to her on the couch, letting her relax against him. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it tightly, linking their fingers together as she feels herself itching to grab her daughter back from her mother, the need to have Mia with her at all times was something she was still getting used to. It felt instinctual, like something deep inside of her that overtook any time she was separated from her daughter. 

She wondered if her mother ever felt the same way. If Elizabeth ever looked down at a tiny newborn version of her and felt the need to pull her into her arms, to just sit there and look at her and wonder at the fact she had come from her. 

“She’s so big already,” Elizabeth says, and Emily clenches her teeth, her grip on Aaron’s hand increasing. 

Emily knew it was a dig, that it was a comment aimed at the fact she’d put her foot down and said she hadn’t wanted her mother in the hospital when she had Mia. It was a decision she’d only felt more sure of when everything went wrong. 

“She’s 6lbs, Mother,” Emily replies, her smile tight, “She’s tiny. She’s actually lost a little weight since she was born.” 

It was normal, she knew that, but it didn’t make it any harder to take, especially since nursing Mia hadn’t come easily to her yet. Aaron had, more than once, found both of them crying as she tried to feed her, his reassurances that it was normal, that no matter what they’d be fine, feeling less than helpful when she was half convinced she was failing her daughter. 

Elizabeth hums and looks back down at Mia, pulling the blanket wrapped around her back just enough to look at her face properly, “She looks just like you, Emily,” she says, “Right down to your nose, poor thing.” 

Emily chokes on a laugh, the sound catching in her chest, as she realises what her mother has said. She doesn’t have a chance to respond, doesn’t have a moment to think about what she would say in response, because Aaron does instead. 

He feels his patience snap. His barely there control over it, frayed by the lack of sleep that came with having a newborn and the lingering fear over how Emily’s labour had gone, disappears in a second. Her words from almost a year ago, before she’d fallen pregnant, ringing around his head as he carefully eases her up from him as he stands. 

“If we do have a baby, and she ever says anything remotely mean about them or Jack you have my permission to break your promise.”

“You need to leave,” he says firmly, easing Mia out of Elizabeth’s embrace, his back turned to her as he passes the infant back to Emily causing him to miss the confusion that flashes across the older woman’s face.

“Aaron, it was just a joke-” She scoffs, as if he’s being ridiculous, and it just makes him angrier. He turns to look at her and clenches his jaw, his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. 

“No,” he says, cutting over her, “You need to leave. I have stood by and let you be rude to Emily because she asked me not to say anything,-”

Emily sighs, wincing as she shifts forward enough to reach out for him, her hand on his arm, squeezing his wrist as she holds Mia to her chest with one hand, “Aaron, honey, it’s okay-”

“It isn’t okay, Em,” he says, his voice softer for a moment as he addresses her, “It’s never been okay but I am done just sitting down and not saying anything,” he turns to look at Elizabeth again, “So you need to leave.”

Elizabeth stands up, her brow furrowed as she crosses her arms over her chest, “I am her mother-”

“Then start acting like it,” he says, his teeth clenched as he tries to keep his voice down, still aware that Mia was in the room, that he never wanted her to see him angry even when she was only a few days old and far too young to understand it, “Otherwise as her husband, I’m not letting you in this house until you do.” 

For a moment, he thinks Elizabeth is going to argue with him. He can see familiar anger in her eyes, he’d seen it in Emily’s before, burning and wild and cracking through the walls built tightly around her. Whatever she was going to say, she thinks better of it, instead she clears her throat and grabs her purse, her eye flicking between Emily and Aaron as she steps away.

“It really was a joke,” she says, her lips pressed together and she looks at Emily, “We’ve always joked about it.”

“No, you always have,” Emily says, feeling bolstered by Aaron’s defence of her, his love a foundation she could build her strength on until she could do it by herself again, “I never have,” she swallows thickly, any hope she’d had that this could be nice, that her mother would be who she wanted just this once, gone as quickly as it had appeared, “Aaron’s right, you should leave.” 

Elizabeth sighs and shakes her head, her grip on her purse tighter as she walks out of the room. Aaron follows, acting as her shadow as he makes sure that she leaves. He closes the front door behind her and sighs, pressing his palms on the door whilst he breathes in and out slowly, desperate to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders. He gives himself a moment before he heads back into the living room, his hands in his pockets as he avoids eye contact with his wife, any confidence he had that he’d done the right thing gone. 

“Well,” Emily says, breaking the silence, “That went as well as I expected it to.”

When he looks at her she’s got a wry smile on her face but he can see the hurt behind it. He walks over and sits on the couch next to her, he places one hand on her thigh and the other on Mia’s back over hers, “I’m sorry sweetheart.” 

She hums and looks down at Mia, her eyes flicking over facial features she loves, especially the ones she’d never liked on herself, “For what? Breaking the promise you made or for the fact I have a shitty mother.” 

He sighs and rests his forehead against her temple, “Em, I’m sorry-”

“No, you don’t have anything to apologise for. I’m glad you said something. Mia’s only five days old and my mother is already starting…being herself. I’m not going to expose my daughter to that.” 

He nods and then kisses the side of her head, running his thumb back and forth on her leg, the material of the leggings soft against his skin, “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly, “I need some time to think,” she rests her head on his shoulder, “Thank you for sticking up for us. No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before.” 

He chuckles and pulls back to look at her, “You never have to thank me for that.” 

She smiles at him, her words trapped in her chest. There was so much she wanted to say but she also just wanted to sit here with her husband and her newborn daughter and enjoy the moment, to sit in the love and joy she’d found and curated all by herself. 

“It was really hot,” she says, her smile turning to a smirk as she purposely moves on from the seriousness in the air. He catches on, as he always did, and he smiles wildly, the same smile Jack had - the one she hopes their daughter will have too. 

“Yeah?” He asks, raising his eyebrow at her.

She nods and bites her lower lip, looking up at him, “Yeah,” she kisses him, “But I’m sleep deprived and your daughter’s own personal dairy cow right now to store this away for blowjob points. So you’re going to have to remind me of this in approximately five weeks and two days, okay?” 

He kisses her, his hand on her cheek as he kisses her again, “I’ll remind you,” he says, smiling before he leans in again, his words lost against her lips, “I promise.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Buy the Promises - Chapter 3

It gets harder to keep the promise as time goes on, as Emily goes from his girlfriend to his fiancée to his wife. He wants nothing more than to put Elizabeth in her place, to stop her from hurting her daughter in a way that only she could. 

AKA The three times Aaron doesn't tell Elizabeth off, and the one time he does

Chapter 3/4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

-x-

Hi friends,

Thanks so much for the love on this fic so far - as always it means so much to me!!

This is the last chapter where our dear Aaron bites his tongue...in the next one he will finally tell Elizabeth off.

Please let me know what you think &lt;3

-x-

Warnings: Infertility, struggling to conceive

Words: 3.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily is just leaning in to check her reflection in the bathroom mirror, double checking that her hair and make-up look good, when the alarm she’d set on her phone just three minutes ago makes her jump. 

She turns it off quickly, well aware that her husband would have heard it too, the brief pause in his footsteps around their bedroom all the confirmation she needs. 

The mix of hope and anxiety as she approaches the counter she’d laid the pregnancy test down on is familiar. A feeling that had become commonplace ever since they’d started trying a year ago, quickly followed by the searing disappointment every month when the tests would come back negative, her period often following only a few days later, a cruel reminder from her body that she didn’t have what she desperately wanted. 

They’d gone to her doctor before they’d started trying. She’d been told in Paris that her fertility had a question mark over it, that whilst the table leg Ian had driven through her hadn’t done any specific damage to her uterus, the overall trauma to her body meant she might struggle to conceive. At first, it had been a blow but it was one of many at the time. She was dead to almost everyone who knew her, forced to hide away as Ian was still at large. Then when she came home she thought about it a little more, but it felt like a moot point if she didn’t have someone to have a baby with.

Then Aaron happened. 

He’d been the first to mention having another kid. It had been a random Thursday evening at his place, just before she’d moved in, and he’d watched her as she helped Jack with his homework. Once the little boy was in bed Aaron had asked her if she ever thought about having a child, citing how good she was with Jack, how much he wanted to see her with a child that was half him and half her, and it had left her breathless. For a moment she’d struggled to explain just how much she wanted it, how she’d been thinking about it since the moment it became clear Aaron was just as in love with her as she was with him, but the doubt that it could ever happen was a mark on the future she imagined with him.

He’d, of course, been nothing but understanding as she told him what the doctors had told her in Paris, and he’d gone with her to all of her appointments she had to have to try and find an answer. He’d held her hand through all of them, assured her afterwards when her anxiety was at an all-time high that he didn’t need another kid to be happy, and he’d shared in her joy when her doctor confirmed she saw no reason why Emily wouldn’t be able to get and to stay pregnant. 

They’d started trying immediately, and since then they’d got engaged, moved into the house they were now living in and got married. Her life was what she once thought it wouldn’t be, full of love and joy but the disappointment that she hadn’t become pregnant yet lingered at its edges. Her hope dwindled with every negative test, and the feeling that she was doing nothing more than letting Aaron down only increased. 

She blows out a breath as she looks down and she shakes her head at herself when there is only one line staring back at her, the treacherous hope that had lingered in her chest turning to anger, bitter and burning as she berates herself for getting her hopes up again. She closes her eyes and clears her throat, giving herself a moment before she opens them and throws the negative test into the trashcan. 

“Sweetheart…” Aaron says as he walks into the room, he drifts off as he looks at her, the expression on her face all too familiar. He looks down at the trashcan and sees the empty pregnancy test box and the negative test on top of it. He allows himself to feel his own disappointment, his own sadness, for a second before he pushes it down, her feelings far more important to him than his own, “Em-”

“We need to go,” she says, cutting him off and walking past him into the bedroom, “Otherwise we’ll be late,” she forces a smile at him, “We both know how my mother feels about tardiness.” 

He sighs as he looks at her, the anger and irritation at herself thrumming under her skin, making her practically vibrate with it as she picks jewellery from her dresser, a barely discernible shake to her hands as she slides a bracelet he got her for her birthday over her wrist. 

“We don’t have to go, we can just stay home.” 

She chuckles bitterly and shakes her head, wishing that it was that simple, that her mother would accept them cancelling at the last minute with a feeble excuse of not feeling well. 

“No, we can’t,” she says, looking at him desperately, “Because then she’d ask why and…I don’t want to get into this with her.” 

He wants to argue, wants to tell her that he’ll call her mother and say they weren’t coming, but he knows that won’t help. Instead, he nods and crosses the room to pull her into a hug. She melts into it, her grip on his back so tight he idly thinks about the creases it will form in his jacket. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” he says, knowing she always needed reassurance after a moment like this, and he’d always be willing to give it to her. 

“I love you too,” she says, pulling back and looking at him with a shaky smile, “We should get going.”

He nods and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her jaw before he pulls away, “Come on, I’ll take you to any drive-thru you want on the way home,” he says, kissing her forehead before he pulls away, linking his arm through hers as he leads her out of the bedroom, “We both know you’ll be complaining that the food she serves doesn’t fill you up.”

She squeezes his arm, grateful that he loves her enough to change the subject, to try and distract her, and she scoffs lightly, “It wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Sergio, honey, and you know it.”

___

In a strange way, she’s almost glad they’d already agreed to go to her mother’s for dinner. 

She feels her walls go up as soon as they park up on Elizabeth’s driveway, and the automatic reaction Emily can’t remember life without. A reaction that was planted in her childhood and then cultivated throughout her adult life, protection of herself against her mother and the way she always knew how to press her buttons. 

She’s grateful for Aaron, for how he sits by her side through dinner, his hand on her knee as he laughs and jokes along with everyone else as if he’d been born into this life. It makes her love him even more, how he accepted this part of her, the part she couldn’t escape despite years of trying to. He’d always say it was his job that made him good at it, that politics was so deeply ingrained in his role that it came naturally to him now, but she knew it was more than that.

It was because of the same reason he would practically vibrate with fury every time her mother upset her, his shoulders tense like he was a caged animal of sorts, the promise he’d made her a muzzle that kept his need to protect her from the one person who should truly love her back in his chest. 

He loved her, thats why he did all these things, and all she could ever do was hope that he knew she loved him back just as fiercely. 

She feels Aaron squeeze her knee a little tighter, and she realises she’s drifted off. Lost in her own thoughts about the negative pregnancy test in the trash and the box of ovulation tests in the cabinet that never seemed to do her any good. She looks up at him and he nods over to her mother, whose eyebrow is raised at her, a look she would have once gotten for scraping her knee just before she had to be at an event of some sort.

“Sorry,” Emily says, clearing her throat, “I was miles away.”

“Margaret was asking you a question,” Elizabeth says, and Emily turns to her mother’s friend, a woman she’d met countless times who always seemed the strangest mix of overly interested and completely bored by everything. 

“Elizabeth tells us you got married recently,” Margaret says, her smile as fake as the veneers that sat behind it. 

“Six months ago,” Emily says, flashing her eyes to her mother’s, “It was lovely. It’s a shame it clashed with one of Mother’s assignments.” 

Aaron coughs from next to her and she shares a quick smile with him when she realises it was so he could cover a laugh. She feels a sense of satisfaction when she looks at her mother and sees a flash of irritation passes over her face. 

“Well, what about grandchildren,” Margaret says, clearly trying to change the subject, “When are you going to make your mother a grandmother.” 

It feels like a punch to the gut and it briefly does take her breath away, her mind immediately back on her bathroom and the negative test and all the ones that had come before it. She places her hand over Aaron’s on her knee and links their fingers together, squeezing so hard she’s sure if she could see their hands their knuckles would be white. She opens her mouth to speak, to say something, anything, to move the conversation along.

“We have Jack already,” she says, smiling tightly, “He’s Aaron’s son from his first marriage and we’re raising him together.” 

Margaret reaches for her wine glass and smiles, “I mean a child of your own.” 

She can feel Aaron’s hand grip her knee even tighter, his irritation forcing his shoulders tighter together. She’s about to say that Jack is her child, that blood has nothing to do with what makes a family, but she’s cut off by her mother.

“Oh, Emily is far too interested in her career to have a baby,” Elizabeth says, chuckling softly, wholly unaware of how her words felt like a dagger to her daughter’s chest.

Emily isn’t sure whether it’s the irony, the fact her mother of all people was saying she was too focused on her career to have a child, or the fact she’s so determined to not cry that causes her body to force out a laugh. It’s wry, and tastes bitter on her tongue, something she chases away with a sip of wine before she stands up. 

“Excuse me,” she says, clearing her throat, “I need the bathroom.” 

She’s up and out of the room before Aaron can react, his hand slipping from her leg down to his side. If he thought he’d been angry at his mother-in-law before he was wrong. This was a new type of fury, one that he hadn’t experienced in years, that made him feel a little bit too much like his own father. He has to remind himself that Elizabeth doesn’t know, that she has no idea that having a baby was something they’d wanted for so long, but he knows that’s also her fault. Emily never spoke to her about anything like that because she didn’t trust her, because their relationship simply wasn’t a typical mother-daughter one. 

He almost says something, a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue before he reminds himself of the promise he’d made, and the fact he wouldn’t be able to say anything without telling Elizabeth, and her friends, the very thing Emily hadn’t wanted to share with even their close friends. It was something just between the two of them, something they shared and grieved together every month when it didn’t happen. He’d encouraged her to tell someone, especially since Penelope kept on asking them when they’d have a baby, but she’d refused. A sad smile on her face as she shrugged and said her best friend already knew because he knew. 

He clears his throat and he stands up, throwing the napkin in his lap down onto the table with more force than necessary, and he looks at Elizabeth, hoping he’s somewhat able to keep a neutral expression.

“Excuse me,” he says, leaving the room without any further comment. He walks quickly to the bathroom and knocks on the door, “Em? Sweetheart, it’s me.” 

The lock unclicks and he pushes the door open, his heart aching as he sees her leaning against the counter tears she won’t shed here shining in her eyes. He purposely keeps his distance, not wanting to touch her and send her over the edge, to force tears to breach the dam she’d kept them behind with nothing but a comforting hug. 

“She really does have a knack for pushing my buttons,” she says, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, “Even the ones she doesn’t know are there,” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, “It’s quite the skill.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to go home?”

She nods, “Yeah, I do. I don’t think I can sit there through dessert. I might just say I feel sick,” she smiles wryly at him, “It wouldn’t be a total lie.” 

“We’ll go home then,” he replies, and he reaches for the door, ready to go out and tell his mother-in-law in no uncertain terms that they were leaving. 

“Aaron?” Emily asks, drawing his attention back to her and she bites the inside of her cheek, “This might sound juvenile, but can I have a hug before we go back out there?”

He’s across the room in seconds, enveloping her in his arms as he kisses her forehead, “It’s not juvenile,” he says, kissing her forehead again, “The only reason I didn’t is because I didn’t want to make you cry.” 

She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “Not here,” she says, resting her cheek on his shoulder, “Maybe when we get home though.” 

He pulls back and smiles at her, and he wipes away a stray tear, not acknowledging it any further, “Good thing I stocked up on Kleenex and your favourite candy.” 

___

She gets into bed as soon as they get home.

Aaron gives her some space and takes some time to put away some dishes and do some laundry, purposely going slowly. When he makes his way upstairs and into the bedroom he’s quiet as he walks into the room just in case she’s fallen asleep, but she’s lying on her side, his pillow cuddled to her chest as she stares at the wall. 

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asks as he sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and placing his hand on her waist, his thumb stroking at the base of her ribcage, “I have paperwork I could do-”

“No,” she says, shifting her gaze so she’s looking at him, “I don’t want you to leave me alone.” 

He feels relief in a way he can’t really explain and he nods, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before he stands up, “I’m just going to get changed and then I’ll be back, okay?”

She hums, “Okay.” 

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten ready for bed faster. His clothes barely make the hamper, and he just about brushes his teeth. By the time he climbs into bed with her, she’s put his pillow back, and she curls around him the moment he’s settled down. He doesn’t say anything, knows that there is nothing he can say, and he simply pulls her closer.

“What if it never happens for us, Aaron?” She says eventually, her words quiet in the darkness of their room, “I want a baby with you so much but…what if it just doesn’t happen because there’s something wrong with me?” Her voice cracks at the end of her sentence and he feels hot tears fall onto his t-shirt, her sadness burning him

“There is nothing wrong with you, Emily,” he says, kissing her forehead fiercely, wanting nothing more than to be able to press his love into her skin, “We can go back to your doctor, figure things out. I’ll get tests too - it could be me.” 

She scoffs and pulls back to look at him, “You have a son, Aaron. We both know it’s not you.” 

“We don’t,” he says, cupping her cheek and wiping tears away with his thumb, “I’m eight, almost nine years older than I was then. And my body has been through a lot. These things change,” he says, and she shrugs, totally unconvinced and he sighs, “Em, I want you to know even if this doesn’t happen for us…” he drifts off as she stiffens in his embrace, her eyes immediately shinier, “Even if it doesn’t, nothing will ever change how I feel about and our life. I love you.” 

It’s something she hadn’t realised she needed to hear. It would devastate her if she was never able to have a child with him, but she knew that they’d move past it together. That they’d love their life no matter what direction it took them in. 

“I love you too,” she replies, leaning forward to kiss him quickly before she rests her head back on his shoulder, “How close did you come to yelling at my mom?” 

He hums, turning to kiss her head before he answers, “Closer than I did after the wedding dress incident.” 

She shakes her head at him, “If we do…” she clears her throat, pushing down the emotions that start to climb up it again, before she continues, “If we do have a baby, and she ever says anything remotely mean about them or Jack you have my permission to break your promise.” 

He hauls her closer and runs his hand up and down her back, his chin resting on top of her head as she settles further into him. 

“Noted.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Haze

Their toddler is sick and sleeping in their bed, so Aaron and Emily have some...alone time in the shower.

-x-

Hi friends,

It's been a little while since I wrote some smut so here we are. This is very much a combo of smut and family/domestic fluff - so I hope you enjoy it <3

This is a little gift for my bestie @cloudlessly-light!

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Smut, 18+, their kid throws up but it's not in any detail

Words: 3.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron steps out of the ensuite into the master bedroom and smiles when he sees his wife and youngest son snuggled together in bed. Emily smiles up at him as she runs her fingers through Elliot’s hair, slowly lulling the two-year-old to sleep.

“He still has a fever,” Emily says, briefly pressing her palm against Elliot's head and wincing at the temperature of it, “The Tylenol helped, but he still feels rough,” she presses her lips together and sighs sadly, her heart aching as it always did when one of the boys were sick, “He told me his stomach feels icky.” 

Aaron smiles as he climbs into bed with them, “When I spoke to his teacher at Daycare she said it’s been going around for a few weeks,” he says, leaning in to stamp a kiss against her lips before he pulls back, settling onto his side of the bed, “He’ll be okay in a couple of days.” 

“I know,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek as she looks down at her son, the sight of his flushed skin making her stomach churn, “Doesn’t make it any easier to watch.” 

He shifts closer, careful to not disturb Elliot as he loops his arm around Emily’s shoulders. He remembered the first time Jack got sick after they got together, how she’d immediately become his son’s place of comfort. It had always been the case with Elliot too, the little boy had always been all about his mother since the moment he was born. Aaron couldn’t blame his sons for it, he knew it was one of the many things they got from him, her comfort and embrace something he craved, something he can’t remember living without. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says sympathetically, “but he’ll be back to his normal self in-”

Aaron is cut off as Elliot suddenly sits up, just lifting his head from Emily’s chest far enough to throw up, taking him and both of his parents by surprise. Emily grimaces as it gets all over the sheets and she feels some of it land on her t-shirt, but she puts her own discomfort aside and rubs her son’s back as Aaron stands up and quickly steps into the bathroom to grab the trashcan and he brings it back out, placing it in front of his son.

“You’re okay, sweet boy,” Emily says, rubbing his back as he finishes, sniffing as he looks up at her, his face sticky with tears, “You all done?”

“Sorry, Mama,” he says as he nods, his eyes shining as his chin trembles. 

“Oh, it’s okay baby,” she says, smiling up at Aaron as he nods in agreement with her, “You didn’t mean to get sick. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” 

Elliot nods and she smiles at him, cupping his cheek for a moment before she stands up and lifts him onto her hip. She turns to look at Aaron and sighs gratefully when she sees he’s already got fresh bedding out, that she was lucky enough to be married to someone whom she didn’t need to ask to help. 

“I’ll take the opportunity to give him a lukewarm bath,” she says, walking towards the ensuite, “Try and get his fever down a little more.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he replies, “I’ll get everything sorted in here,” he can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was barely holding herself together because their little boy was sick. The kids had always been her Achilles heel, the chink in her anchor. He smiles at her, “Remember when we used to change the sheets before bed for fun reasons?” 

She laughs, shaking her head at him as she does so, “Feels like a long time ago right now.” 

He winks at her, “We still have a lot of fun.”

She smiles gratefully at him for cheering her up a little, for knowing her well enough to know how to. 

“We can have some fun when someone is back in his own bed,” she says as she turns into the bathroom and places Elliot down on the closed toilet seat. She kneels in front of him and smiles encouragingly as she starts to help him out of his pjyamas. “You’ll feel better after a bath, Eli,” she says, pulling his pyjama shirt over the top of his head and tossing it towards the hamper, “And then we’ll get back into bed.” 

“I made mess,” he says, his eyes still shining up at her, and she swears she can hear her heart break. She wishes she could make him feel better, that she could take the sickness away from him and endure it herself, but she settles for what she can do - provide the comfort he needs.

“It’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose,” she says, repeating what she’d said in the bedroom as she stands up and starts running a bath, “And Daddy is cleaning it all up,” she smiles as she leans down, making a point of winking at him to try and make him smile, “He’s always clearing up my messes.” 

Elliot giggles, the sound briefly warming her chest until it turns into a cough. She lifts him, carrying him over to the bath and gently lowering him into it. She gives a bath, smiling to herself as he starts to get sleepy even though he’s sitting in lukewarm water. By the time she’s done and wrapping him up in a fluffy towel the door to the bathroom opens and Aaron pops his head in, smiling softly at Emily.

“The bed is all done,” he says, stepping into the room, “And I got some fresh pjyamas for him out of his room,” he watches as Emily lifts Elliot onto her hip, the toddler snuggled up in the towel she’d wrapped him in. Emily had always been beautiful to Aaron, even long before he had a right to think it back when he was married to someone else. She’d only got more beautiful over the years, impossibly more gorgeous to him as time went on. He’d seen her in designer dresses and tailor-made suits, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her more beautiful than she was right now - standing in their ensuite, their youngest son wrapped up in her arms and vomit stains on her t-shirt. He smiles as he steps towards them, his arms offered out towards Elliot, “Want me to take him? I can get him ready for bed and you can jump in the shower if you want,” the corner of his lips turn up into a smile, “You definitely got the worst of it.” 

She nods, the feel of her t-shirt sticking to her skin was driving her crazy, and she knew she couldn’t get back into fresh sheets without washing her hair. She presses a kiss to Elliot’s head before she passes him over.

“You go with Daddy, okay?” 

She’s grateful when the toddler doesn’t argue, simply resting his head against Aaron’s shoulder in a way that lets her know he’ll be asleep in minutes. She blows out a breath as she walks towards the shower, stripping herself of her pyjamas and dumping them in the hamper alongside Elliot’s. 

She relaxes as soon as the hot water hits her skin, immediately easing some of the tension in her back and shoulders. She washes her hair twice, humming softly to herself as she does so. She smiles when she hears the door to the bathroom open again, and she peers out of the shower, her smile getting wider as she watches Aaron close the door behind him. 

“Is he okay?” She asks, and Aaron nods in response.

“Already fast asleep,” he replies, the heat of the bathroom cloying, the steam flowing through the room letting him know his wife had the temperature up high just like she always did. He can’t bring himself to care as he watches droplets of water running down the soft valleys of her skin, freckles and scars and curves he was intimately familiar with almost shining in the low light of the room. He feels his sweatpants get a little tighter and he steps towards the shower, already taking his t-shirt off as he speaks,  “Need help in there?” 

She chuckles as she turns to look at him, her expression turning incredulous as she sees that he’s serious, standing in front of her as he reveals that he’s already half hard as he takes off his sweatpants.

“Are you serious?” She asks, shaking her head at him, ignoring how she can feel the heat building in her belly, “I’m literally showering because I had to get our kid’s vomit out of my hair.” 

He smiles at her as he steps into the shower, “When will you learn I always want you?” He asks, his voice rough, choked full of desire in a way that makes her stomach flip. Her mouth goes dry and she licks her lips, her gaze fixed on his as he stares at her.

“Maybe you should show me again,” she says, all pretence that she didn’t want this too gone in a second as he steps even closer, guiding her out of the stream of water and pressing her against the wall. It makes her whimper, the contrast between the heat of the air and him sharp in comparison to the cool tile wall, “Remind me.” 

He’s kissing her before she’s even finished speaking, his hard firm on her jaw as he holds her in place. She moans and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth as his other hand drifts to her waist, pulling her closer as they continue to kiss. She pulls away when the need to breathe takes over and she smiles at him, her eyes glazed over and her lips already swollen. 

“We’ll have to be quick,” she says, licking her lips to chase the taste of him, “There’s a toddler in our bed.” 

He smirks at her, leaning down to press his lips against her ear, sending goose pimples across her skin, “I think we both know I don’t need much time to take you apart, sweetheart.” 

She narrows her eyes, a challenge already on the tip of her tongue that dies as he reaches between them, his thumb delicate and fleeting against her clit. She grasps his arms, her short nails digging into his skin as he smirks against her neck. He starts to rub circles against her and she groans, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder. He kisses along her neck, licking droplets of water from her skin as she tightens her grip on him. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, his name trapped in her throat, “I need-”

He already knows what she needs, he always did, and he slips his hand between her legs, encouraging her to widen her stance as he slips two fingers inside of her, pride flashing in his chest as she immediately clenches around him. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, kissing down her chest as she rests her head back against the wall of the shower, “Let me make you feel good,” he licks over one of her nipples, smiling as she involuntarily thrusts her hips against his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

“Holy fuck,” she grits out, rolling her hips against his hand again, silently asking for more. She trails her nails down his sides, taking some satisfaction in how he shivers when she reaches his hips. 

He wraps her hand around him, smirking as he groans against her breast as she starts to pump him up and down. He kisses his way back up to her mouth, swallowing the moan she lets out as he changes the angle of the fingers he has pumping inside of her, his palm pressed against her clit. She clenches around his fingers and he feels her thighs start to shake. He pulls away from her lips, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her jaw, his words muffled against her skin. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he says, nipping at her throat as she does just that, her hands shifting to his back as she pulls him closer, fire burning through her veins as she leaves red trails on his skin, “That’s it,” he croons, “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

She pulls him in for a kiss, desperate to feel his lips against hers as she comes down from her high, every nerve ending sparking as she sighs into his mouth. He places his hand on her hip, his skin slippery from her and the water still falling around them and he pulls back from the kiss, his forehead against hers as he smiles.

“Turn around,” he says, kissing her again, his teeth briefly sinking into her lower lip as she nods. 

He helps turn her, his skin hot against her skin, making her shiver as he presses her against the wall, her breath catching in her chest as her nipples press against the tiles. He’s warm and pressed right up against her, the feeling overwhelming as he reaches between them, guiding himself into her. 

She gasps at the familiar stretch, her palms against the smooth wall as she tries to grasp at something. Aaron places his hands over hers, linking their fingers together as he rests his forehead against the back of her neck, grinding his teeth at the tightness of her, at the way she clenches around him. 

“You feel so good, Em,” he chokes out, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, “So fucking good.” 

“You do too,” she replies, breathless, feeling so full, so surrounded, by him that she can barely breathe, “You need to move, please move.” 

He’d never been able to deny her anything, so he starts to move, slowly moving his hips back and forth, purposely dragging pleasure out of her, well aware that it drove her crazy when he took her like this. She pushes her hips back against him, chasing him, silently asking him for more. He was huge, stretching her almost to her limit every time. 

The first time they’d done this, years ago now, he’d put off sleeping with her for weeks, eventually leading her to yell at him, her own insecurities peeking through until he admitted he was worried he’d hurt her. He was always exactly what she needed. Desperate and rough when she needed release that way, or soft and gentle, hands delicate on her skin, when she needed to be reminded of how much he loves her. 

The angle of him combined with the press of him behind her, the steam in the air that makes it harder to catch her breath, makes her orgasm build up quickly. She’s not even sure she came down from her first one entirely, her body still twitching against his. 

“I’m close,” she grits out, and he smiles against her cheek, encouraging her to turn her head enough to look at him. 

“I can tell,” he says, kissing her fiercely, “You get so tight when you’re like this,” he says, moving one of his hands down, gently circling her clit, knowing it was the last push she needs, “Come for me again, sweetheart.” 

She kisses him as she tips over the edge, her scream of his name muffled against his lips, something she’s grateful for because she’s not sure the sound of the shower would have covered it. 

He isn’t far behind her, his hips starting to stutter against hers as she rests her forehead against his temple, encouraging him with soft and filthy words as he tips over the edge, coming deep inside of her with a growl. 

They still for a moment, content in their embrace against the wall in silence until she chuckles and shakes her head, “You really are insatiable.” 

He laughs and kisses her again before he pulls back, raising his eyebrow at her as she turns to look at him, “You’re one to talk.” 

She narrows her eyes at him but kisses him quickly before she steps back into the stream of the water, “Come on, we actually should shower now.” 

They wash each other, hands soft and gentle where they’d been desperate and grasping only minutes before. She laughs as he carefully lathers her soap on her skin, pressing his lips against her shoulder as the bubbles wash down the drain.

He steps out of the shower first, reaching for a towel for her and passing it to her before he gets one for himself. 

“I got some clean pjyamas out for you,” he says, kissing her cheek as he wraps his towel low on his hips, watching intently as she starts to dry her skin, “They’re just on the bed in there.” 

She groans appreciatively and walks over to kiss his cheek, “You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he replies, kissing the corner of her lips, catching the chuckle she lets out, “I’ll meet you in there.” 

He makes quick work of changing back into his pjyamas, and he picks up the clothes from the floor that had missed the hamper and places them in there, making a mental note that he’d add them to the washer in the morning once the bedding was clean. 

He walks into the bedroom and smiles when he once again finds Emily and Elliot cuddled up on her side of the bed. 

“He didn’t even wake up when I moved him to get into my side,” she says quietly, “Poor little thing.” 

Aaron climbs into bed and kisses her before he kisses his son’s forehead, “His fever is down a little though, so the bath helped.” 

She hums, the sound turning into a yawn as she looks at him, “I guess being thrown up on does have its advantages.” 

He scoffs, faking offence as he shakes his head at her, “I thought what just happened in the shower was an advantage.” 

She smiles, but is cut off from saying anything when there’s a knock on the door before Jack walks in, a slightly dazed look on his face as he walks in, clearly half asleep. 

“Mom, Dad, I feel sick.” 

They both sigh internally and exchange a look, having a brief and silent conversation before Aaron lifts the covers on his side of the bed, “Come on buddy, come sleep with us.” 

Jack crawls into the bed and gets in between them, curling his arm over his little brother, “Love you guys.” 

“We love you too, honey,” Emily says, reaching out and pushing some of his hair off his forehead, smiling when she sees he’s already half asleep again. She looks up at her husband, “We’re never going to sleep in here alone again, are we?”

He shakes his head, “No sweetheart, we aren’t,” he smirks at her, “But at least we’ve got the shower.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

You Could Stay

He showed her that he loved her every day, and she thought that would be enough for her. But when it came down to it, it wasn’t. She wanted to hear it, to have the confirmation she hadn’t known she’d needed until she didn’t get it. 

Emily tells Aaron that she loves him, but he doesn't say it back.

-x-

Hi friends!

This is based on a prompt the lovely @eobangingwhen sent me! I really hope you enjoy this bestie <3

This is pure idiots in love stuff with a pinch of angst thrown in for flavour. Perfect Friday night stuff!!

Hope those of you who went back to work this week made it through it is...tough out there!!

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It’s late when Aaron makes it back to the hotel.

He’d sent everyone back for the night hours ago but stayed at the precinct at the lead detective’s request for help with the paperwork. He sighs as he puts the keycard in the door and pushes it open, determined to go to bed as soon as possible. He frowns as he steps into the room and a white rectangle on the carpet gets his attention. He lets the door close behind him before he reaches down to pick it up, smiling when he realises it’s a keycard with a Post-it note stuck to it, his girlfriend's familiar handwriting scrawled across it. 

Come to my room when you get back - no matter how late. Can’t sleep without you. Em x 

He places the note in his pocket and then makes quick work of his nighttime routine, wanting nothing more than to go see Emily, to have some alone time with her after spending the day pretending she was no more than a member of his team. 

They’d been together for two months now. It had been eight weeks of happiness he never thought he’d have again, of peace he found in her smile and her presence. She brought him, and Jack, more joy than he thought possible and much more than he thought he deserved. 

He loved her. He’d known that for far longer than they’d been together, the name for what he’d been feeling for years finally coming to him when he stood over her empty grave. He’d gone to Pakistan because he couldn’t bear to live surrounded by the what-ifs, haunted by the fact he hadn’t been able to save her. He’d told himself for months that if he saw her again he’d tell her how he felt, that he’d ask her out, but he hadn’t been able to. The words caught in his throat whenever she was near, fear that she’d say no always stopping him.

In the end, she was the one who started things. She’d leant forward and kissed him, a sparkle in her eyes as she pulled back that still made him smile if he thought about it. She’d said that she’d wanted to kiss him for years, that she couldn’t stop herself from doing it anymore, and his response had been to kiss her again, his lips firm against hers as he curled his hand around the back of her head. 

He’d almost told her he loved her then but stopped himself, his request to ask her out to dinner escaping instead, her immediate acceptance enough to make his skin tingle. He’d almost told her several times since then, the words always on the tip of his tongue, buried against her collarbone as they had sex or held back as she straightened his tie for him in the morning before they left for work. 

The same thing stopped him every time - the thought that she deserved better. 

For someone who had always prided herself on compartmentalising, she had so much love to give. She showered him, and his son, with it. Even though she hadn’t said the words yet, he felt it. She let him know without saying it. She was tactile - something he’d always known about her but hadn’t been on the receiving end until they were together. She was always touching him. Her hand on his arm or shoulder, a soft kiss against his cheek as she stood up to get more snacks when they were watching TV. She even made a point of making her fingers linger over his when she passed him coffee or a file at work, a gentle reminder that told him she was there.

He didn’t feel worthy of her love, of how freely she gave it to him. He found it more difficult to express it, years and years of repressing how he felt, taught from an early age that emotions made him weak, too much to fight against. He hoped she felt loved, that she knew how precious she was to him, but he feared the day she’d figure out she could do better, that she deserved to be with someone who could love her the way she loved them in return. 

He’s quiet as he walks down the hallway to her room, keen to make sure he doesn’t wake any of the team up as he walks past their rooms. No one knew about them yet, but they’d decided to tell them soon, something that he and Emily had agreed on. 

He lets himself into her room, his smile soft when he sees her sitting up in bed, her book on her lap and her eyes sleepy as she looks up at him.

“Hi, honey,” she says quietly, immediately closing her book and placing it on her nightstand, unsure if she’d even read anything in the last 20 minutes or so as she waited for him, “You were there late.” 

He hums as he toes his shoes off at the door and walks across to the bed, “We went over a lot of the paperwork,” he says, stamping a kiss against her cheek as he sneaks under the covers next to her, “We’ll have less to do tomorrow at least.” 

She smiles as she cups his cheek and drags him in for a kiss. She nuzzles her nose against his as she pulls back, “Did you eat?”

He feels warmth spread through his chest at the soft question, his lips pressed together as he nods, “Yeah, I grabbed something,” he encourages her to lay down and lays down with her, gathering her against his chest before he turns to switch off the lamp on the nightstand. 

She yawns as she settles against him, her head on his shoulder as she throws her leg over his waist, “I’m so tired.” 

He kisses the top of her head and runs his hand up and down her back, allowing his fingers to sneak under the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, one that used to belong to him, “You could have gone to sleep, sweetheart.” 

“Can’t sleep without you,” she mutters, turning her head to kiss his throat, “You’re warm and comfy.” 

He chuckles, his hand still rubbing circles on her back in a way that he knows will send her to sleep, “Good to know that’s why you keep me around.” 

She hums, “You have other uses I guess.” 

Aaron shakes his head and kisses the top of her head again, “Goodnight, Em.” 

“Night,” she says, sighing contentedly, “Love you.” 

He tenses momentarily as she says it, his grip on her tighter for a second as her sleepy words wash over him. He waits for a follow-up, for her to say something else, but nothing comes. He looks down at her and sees that her eyes are closed. 

She’d fallen asleep, she probably wasn’t even aware she’d said it. That she’d uttered the words they’d been talking around for weeks. 

He blows out a breath and kisses the top of her head, his eyes closed as he breathes her in, the scent of her calming him for a moment before he pulls back. 

She loved him, but he knew she deserved better.

___

He hadn’t said it back.

It’s all she can think about from the moment she wakes up the next morning, still tangled up in his arms. 

She hadn’t meant to say it, not then anyway. The words had escaped without any thought. Simply being with him, safe and content in his embrace after a day of pretending he was just her boss, had been enough to make them slip free. She’d frozen when she realised what she’d said, his own tension as her words registered enough for him to miss how her back had straightened. She’d closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, hoping that she’d hear some kind of response but he didn’t say anything. He’d kissed her forehead and kept his arms around her, his hand moving up and down her back still until she eventually drifted off into a restless sleep. 

She’d purposely put distance between them all day. Irritation and hurt bubbling under her skin every time she looked at him because he hadn’t said it back. 

It’s not that she didn’t feel loved by him. He had never been a man of many words, but a man of action. He loved her by looking after her, something she’d never let anyone else do for her. He had bought her favourite shampoo and conditioner and placed it in his shower caddy so she had something to use when she was over. He had her favourite wine at his place and left candy on her desk because he’d ‘seen it in the store and thought of her.’ He showed her every day, and she thought that would be enough for her. 

But when it came down to it, it wasn’t. She wanted to hear it, to have the confirmation she hadn’t known she’d needed until she didn’t get it. 

Even though they leave the precinct at the same time that day she goes to her room alone. She turns down the team's request for a drink in the bar and heads to her room, her shoulders sagging as soon as she is alone. She changes into her pjyamas, cursing herself for only packing t-shirts that she’d stolen from him, and she climbs under the over-starched sheets of her bed. 

She’s not sure how long she lies there before she hears the beep from the door that indicates a keycard has been inserted. She sits up in bed immediately and forces a smile as she looks at him.

“Hi,” she says, clearing her throat as she throws the covers off of herself, climbing out of bed and towards the mini-bar, “Want a drink?” 

“No,” he replies, purposely keeping a distance from her because he can sense that’s what she wants, “I had one with dinner.” 

She nods and presses her lips together as she pulls out a mini bottle of scotch from the bar and pours it into a glass, “Has everyone gone to bed now?"

“Yeah,” he replies, stepping towards her, frowning as she puts more space between them, “Em, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head as she drinks the scotch in one go, the burning of it down her throat a desperately needed distraction from the ache in her chest, “Nothing is wrong.” 

The obvious lie makes his shoulders tense, memories of the last time she’d been evasive with him, of when she’d died so she could survive, hitting him square in the chest, briefly making him breathless, “That’s not true.” 

She rolls her eyes, the irritation she’d felt at him all day sparking in her blood, “Aaron-”

“Please don’t lie to me, Emily.” 

She sighs and she crosses her arms over her chest, holding herself together in a way she’d recently learnt to allow him to. She presses her lips together as he looks at her earnestly, and she feels a flash of anger that he doesn’t get it, that he didn’t know what was wrong. 

“I told you that I love you and you didn’t say anything back,” she says, clicking her tongue before she laughs bitterly, “You just…you didn’t say anything back.” 

He clenches his jaw, irritation aimed only at himself rolling through him as he realises she had been awake and that he’s done what he promised himself he wouldn’t - he’d hurt her. He knew he owed her an explanation, that he should say something, but he still felt paralysed. 

“Em-”

“Oh God, what the fuck have you done to me,” she says, cutting him off, talking to herself more than him. She turns away, her hand covering her eyes as she blows out a slow breath and she shakes her head as she turns back to look at him, “This is so fucking high school. This isn’t who I am. I’m not someone who gets like this but you’ve made me…you’ve ruined me,” she swallows thickly and she feels tears press at the back of her eyes, and she knows he has to leave, that she won’t allow herself to break down in front of him. She clears her throat, “You should go.” 

“Em, sweethear-”

“Go. Please,” she says, her voice thick as she avoids looking at him as she stops him from calling her the nickname that meant more to her than she thought it should, “I think I need to be alone tonight.” 

He wants to argue, wants to tell her it’s not what she thinks, that he loves her so much it makes him ache, but he can’t. The words die in his throat as they have so many times before and he nods, deciding if he can’t give her what she deserves he can give her what she has asked for. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, and her only response is to nod, her eyes fixed on the floor as she refuses to look at him. 

As he steps out into the hallway he hears the second lock on her room click, taking away his ability to get back in with the keycard still clasped in his hands, and he curses under his breath. He shakes his head at himself and walks back towards his room, regret and self-hatred he was all too familiar with making his skin itch. 

He digs through his pocket to find his own keycard when he comes across a folded-up piece of paper. He pulls it out and blows out a breath when he realises it’s the note from Emily that she’d left him the day before. Her handwriting, the admission that she slept better with him, something she would have once considered a weakness, staring back at him. 

“Damn it, Aaron,” he says to himself, his palm flat against his hotel room door as he leans on it, his teeth clenched as he berates himself. 

She’d been brave so many times throughout all of this. She’d kissed him first. She’d given herself so many parts of herself, tiny puzzle pieces of her past he knew she’d never shared with anyone else, so he could know her better. 

She’d told him she loved him. 

It was his turn to be brave. 

He turns around again, a determination in his step as he walks towards her bedroom again, knocking on the door the second he’s in front of it. 

“Emily. I need to talk to you.” 

“I said go away.” 

Her voice is muffled by the door, but he can hear the thickness of it, how she was clearly holding back tears, and it just makes him more determined to fix what he’d done. 

“Please, sweetheart,” he says, his hand flat against the door as he rests his forehead on it, “It’s not that I don’t love you…of course I love you. You’re you. I’d be a fool not to. It’s just…you deserve so much more than me, Em.” 

The silence that follows makes him nervous, his heart beating so loudly he can hear it. He hears a throat clearing from behind him and his eyes go wide as he turns. 

The team were all standing in the doorways of their rooms, a mix of confused frowns and smirks staring back at him as they step out into the hall. Derek looks surprised, his eyes slightly narrowed as he looks at his boss, and Spencer just looks confused, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks back and forth between Aaron and Emily’s door. JJ and Dave both look amused, a knowing glint in the older man’s eyes that makes Aaron roll his, and a smile on JJ’s face that lets him know she’s putting together a few things in her head. 

“Well isn’t this interesting,” Dave says, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans on the doorframe of his room, “Are you declaring your love for all of us one at a time, Aaron? Or is Prentiss special in some way? 

“Dave, I swear to-”

Aaron’s response is cut off as Emily’s door opens, her eyes widening as she takes in the audience they have as she appears in the doorway. She looks at her boyfriend, his eyes seeping desperation as they meet hers, and she steps back.

“You’d better come in.” 

He smiles gratefully at her as he steps past her into her room, and she stares at their friends for a second before she makes a point of closing the door a little too hard behind them. She blows out a breath as she turns to look at Aaron, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Well,” she says, clearing her throat, “That was one way for them to find out.” 

He chuckles, the sound catching in his chest, painful as it pushes past his ribs as he watches her face, hating the fact he can’t read her, “Not ideal, but it saves a conversation I guess.” 

She laughs, “If you think they’ll let us get away with that you’re kidding yourself,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek as she watches him carefully, “And then there’s Pen to deal with.” 

He smiles at her but it fades, the weight of what they hadn’t spoken about heavy in the air around them. He steps towards her, itching to touch her, to pull her into his arms, “Em-”

“What did you mean when you said you think I deserve better than you?” She asks, tilting her head as she looks at him, her eyes full of nothing but love and curiosity. 

He sighs and scratches the back of his head as he sits down on the edge of her bed. He rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, shaking his head at himself as he tries to put everything he’d been feeling for weeks into words. 

“I’m not any good at this,” he says, his gaze fixed on the floor, “I was a terrible husband to Haley in the end, I didn’t love her like I should have. I’m doing my best every day to be better for my son and now you but…it still doesn’t feel like enough. I’m broken, Em. And I don’t think I can be fixed.” 

He jumps when he feels her hand on his shoulder, unsure when she had joined him sitting on the bed, and he looks up at her. He’s not sure what he expected when his eyes meet hers, but all he’s met with is understanding.

“Honey, I’m broken too,” she says, smiling when he tries to correct her, squeezing his hand tightly in a silent request for him to stop, “I think it’s why we work. We understand each other in a way no one else can. We know how hard it is to try and pick up the pieces and start again,” she reaches out and cups his cheek, gently stroking her thumb back and forth over his cheek, “And as for Haley, you’re loving her in the best way you can now by loving and raising Jack. It’s what she wanted and you’re honouring that. It’s one of the many, many reasons I love you.” 

It’s a redo of the moment from last night, a second chance for him to get it right, and he takes it with both hands, “I love you too, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in so his forehead is against hers, “So much.” 

She smiles and stamps her lips against his, the kiss turning fiercer as she shifts her hand from his cheek to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. They get momentarily lost in each other, in this moment that they once both thought they’d never have, and they let themselves enjoy it. Each of them aware this was the last ‘first’ I love you they’d ever have. 

They pull away when the need for air becomes too much and she smiles, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries and fails to contain it. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “I should have just spoken to you about it instead of being an idiot.” 

She shrugs and leans in to kiss him again, “It’s okay, we’ll just take it in turns being idiots,” she says, her smile wry, “It will be my turn when you ask me to move in with you and I freak out for one reason or another and you’ll have to be the sensible one.” 

He laughs, his normal, full-bodied one that never failed to make her heart sing, and he nods, “It’s a date.” 

She rests her forehead against his and sighs contentedly, enjoying every possible second of this moment, of the peace and joy she spent the last several years thinking she’d never have. 

“Do you think they are still out there?” She asks quietly, her eyes flicking towards the door, and he smiles. 

He opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by a voice coming through the door.  

“Yes, we are.” Dave says, an edge of amusement to his voice, “And you two better come out here and explain yourselves.” 

Emily groans and presses her forehead into his shoulder, “Do you think if we ignore them they’ll go away?” 

“I wouldn’t bet on it, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head. 

“Don’t make me call Pen to unlock your door remotely,” JJ threatens and Emily rolls her eyes even though her friend can’t see her, “We both know she’d do it.” 

“We’d better go face the music,” Aaron says as he stands up, offering her his hand and winking as she takes it, pulling her upwards so she’s standing next to him. 

“Together?” She asks, wrapping her hand around his, smiling as he squeezes it and nods. 

“Together.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

‘Just like home’ 😭

Fire & Ice - Chapter 2

The case was over, the danger was gone and they could go home and finally celebrate Christmas.

The case was over, so she'd let her defences down, not knowing that the worst was to come.

Chapter 1 can be read here

-x-

Hi friends,

Thank you so so much for the love/yelling on chapter one - it genuinely means the world. Really hope that you enjoy this chapter and I'm excited to know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Canon typical injury

Words: 3.7k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He wakes up suddenly.

It takes a moment for everything to register, his mind blank as he tries to remember falling asleep in the first place. It all comes back at once.

The patch of ice he hadn’t seen until it was too late. The pain in his head from where it had hit the steering wheel, the ache in his ribs from where the seatbelt had held him in place as the car span out of control and hit a tree. 

He groans as he blinks repeatedly, trying and failing to clear his vision, to lessen the ache in his head. He slowly turns his head to look at Detective Rooney, to check in on the man who had been with him, but his eyes widen when he realises he’s not there, the empty seat and space where the passenger door should have been staring back at him. 

He grunts as he undoes his seatbelt, his instinct to find the other man, to make sure he is okay, overriding any concern about his own injuries. He tries to push open the door on his side of the car but it’s jammed, crumpled shut, so he climbs over the centre console, his body burning with pain in protest and he steps out onto the snow-covered ground, the sound of it crunching below his unsteady feet. 

It was dark, his eyes straining as they adjust so he could see. He opens his mouth to yell out Detective Rooney’s name, chastising himself internally as it takes a second for the other man’s first name to come back to him.

“David,” he yells out, looking around, walking carefully further down the bank they’d crashed into, “Dav-”

He stops as he spots him lying in a creek, and he comes close to losing his footing as he speeds up, almost falling over as he makes it to the other man’s side. He thinks nothing of it as he slips into the water, the shock of the cold stealing the breath from his lungs as he reaches for Detective Rooney, the pain in his ribs only increasing as he lifts him out of the water, laying him down on the snow-covered ground.

He collapses next to him, any adrenaline he had fading, his breath stuttering as his wet clothes stick to his skin, the cold seeping into him. He thinks of his phone still in the car, cursing himself for leaving it behind in his attempt to find Detective Rooney. 

He slips into unconsciousness again, the cold and his injuries finally catching up with him.

___

Emily blows out a breath as she checks her watch again, nerves starting to spark in her stomach, the feeling switching from impatience to concern as more time passed, “What’s taking so long? And why isn’t Aaron answering his damn phone.”

They’d been gone almost twice as long as Aaron said they’d be. The team had finished packing everything up and were just waiting to go home, something they were all keen to do as soon as possible. She’d tried to call him more than once and sent a few texts that had remained unanswered.

“They probably just got caught up at the jail, Detective Rooney did say that there was barely any cell service on route,” Dave says, his smile wry, “You’ll get your boyfriend back soon enough.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, but any response is cut off as JJ stands up, her own desire to get home clear, “I’ll call the county jail,” she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “See what’s going on.” 

Emily smiles at her friend as she walks away and she checks her phone again, sighing at the time before her smile widens at the picture of her and Aaron that she had was her wallpaper. She’d changed it from a picture of Sergio when they told the team about them, an urge she didn’t fully understand to put their relationship, their love, on display forcing her to switch it. It was a selfie she’d taken of the two of them on a recent date night, their cheeks pressed together and wide smiles on both of their faces. 

“Never took Hotch as a selfie kind of guy.” 

She smiles tightly at Derek as she looks up at him. At first, she thinks he’s being snarky again, but she can see the soft look in his eyes, the half he’s offering her. It was an olive branch, the first sign of recognition that he’d been unfair to her. 

“Well,” she says, locking her phone and slipping it back into her pocket, “I have my ways to convince him,” she raises her eyebrows at him, and he grimaces, something that makes her chuckle, “He is my boyfriend, Derek - we do have se-”

“We’ve got a problem,” JJ says as she walks back over, her shoulder tense, and Emily feels the spark of worry in her stomach catch fire, making her belly roll. 

“What’s wrong?” 

JJ sighs as she grips her phone, her eyes full of sympathy that makes Emily angry in a way she knows her friend doesn’t deserve, “They left over two hours ago,” she says, “They should have been here by now.” 

It feels like the earth shifts beneath Emily, making her glad she’s sitting down, all the worst case scenarios briefly overwhelming her, “Wh…what? Then where the hell are they?” 

She’s never been more grateful for Derek’s ability to take over a situation, the man passing out instructions to everyone. He tells JJ to call Penelope so she can track Aaron’s phone, he tells Dave to try calling him again and gets Spencer to look over the route they would have taken on a map. 

It’s only when Derek places his hand on her arm and squeezes that she realises she’d been frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the wall ahead of them. She snaps her head to look at him, the kindness in his smile enough to make her want to yell at him. 

“Everything will be fine, Princess,” he says, squeezing her arm again, “They probably just got stuck in some snow somewhere.”

She nods, not quite sure she believes him, because life had never been quite that kind to her, “Yeah,” she replies, swallowing thickly, “Everything will be fine.”

She doesn’t think she’s ever been so terrified when Penelope calls back and confirms Aaron’s phone hasn’t moved for over an hour. 

___

Derek refuses to let her come at first, a stern look on his face as he tries to stop her from getting in the SUV with him and Spencer. She makes it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she is going with them, her winter jacket already on as she climbs into the passenger seat. 

The journey is tense, quiet, and every mile stretches out ahead of them as Derek drives. 

“Can’t we go any faster?” She asks for the dozenth time, picking at her thumbnail, the sting of it distracting her from everything else, from the fact she didn’t know what had happened to the man she loves. 

“Not in these conditions,” Derek replies, his patience with her irritating. 

“The place where Penelope tracked Hotch’s phone is just around this bend,” Spencer says from the back of the car. 

Derek frowns, “Are you sure, there’s nothing out here?” 

“I have an Eidetic memory,” Spencer quips as the car comes to a stop, “That’s why you had me look at the maps and brought me along-”

“Guys,” Emily says, already unbuckling her seat belt as Derek parks up. She frowns as she sees something metallic, the headlights of the SUV catching it before they switch off with the engine, “I think I see something.” 

She grabs her flashlight and is out of the car in seconds, Derek just behind her as she spots the car Aaron and Detective Rooney had left the precinct in earlier. She gasps at the sight of it, the metal wrapped around a tree, and she barely registers Derek calling back to Spencer and asking him to call for backup and an ambulance. She gets closer to the car, ignoring Derek’s insistence that she’s careful. She shines the flashlight in the car and swallows thickly when she sees that it is empty. 

“They aren’t here,” she says as she turns back to Derek. Her chest feels tight, anxiety she can barely hide anymore filling her lungs, “Where the fuck are they?” 

“They can’t have gone far,” Derek says, he shines his flashlight down the hill next to them, and he stops, his eyes going wide as he spots the two men next to the creek, “Em…”

She turns, and her breath catches in her chest, her ribs aching with it as she tries and fails to breathe back out.

“Aaron.” 

“Hotch.” 

She and Derek yell out simultaneously, the sight of him lying on the ground, just a few feet from Detective Rooney, enough to make them briefly freeze on the spot. She almost loses her footing as she slides down the small hill, and she grazes her hand on the ground as she puts it out to steady herself, but she doesn’t feel the sting. 

Emily kneels next to him, the cold wet feeling of the snow beneath her not registering as it seeps through her pants. She reaches out for him, hesitating momentarily before touching his neck, mentally preparing herself to feel nothing, preemptive grief filling her lungs. She feels a faint pulse, too faint, and gasps at how cold he is, the temperature of his skin enough to make her pull back in shock like she’d been electrocuted.

He was usually so warm. 

Derek checks on Detective Rooney and curses under his breath as she shakes his head, “He’s gone,” he says, looking up at Emily, “Is Hotch-”

“He’s alive,” she says, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence, not wanting to even put the words out there. She shrugs her thick winter jacket off her shoulders as she lays it over Aaron, “He’s freezing cold,” she looks around, “Where the fuck is that ambulance?” 

“It’s on its way, Em,” Derek says, watching her carefully as she shifts closer to Aaron, pulling his head into her lap as she does her best to stay calm. Derek unzips his jacket and lays it over her shoulders, smiling softly at her as she jumps slightly, her hands already moving to shrug it off and lay it over Aaron. He stops her and shakes his head, playing his hand on her shoulder, “Keep it on, we both know he’d kill me if you have hypothermia when he wakes up.” 

She nods, knowing he is right, that Aaron’s first priority is never going to be himself. She reaches for Aaron’s hand, clenching her teeth to stop herself from crying at how cold he is, and she sandwiches it between hers, rubbing her skin against his to try and get some warmth back into him. 

“Don’t do that,” Spencer says, appearing out of seemingly nowhere with a blanket he’d pulled from the trunk of the car, “Trying to warm someone's limbs like that can cause stress on the heart and lungs, he could have a heart attack.” 

Emily drops Aaron’s hand like she’s been burned and she chokes on a laugh, her breath visible as it is forced out of her chest, “What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?” 

Spencer nods, “The hospital isn’t far from here,” he says, “The ambulances should be here soon,” he looks past Aaron to Detective Rooney, “Is he…”

Derek nods, “He’s dead,” he confirms, “I’m not sure how they ended up down here.”

Emily runs her fingers through Aaron’s hair, pulling out snowflakes as she goes, “I’d put money on Aaron doing something stupid and heroic,” she says, shaking her head, a tear finally falling onto her cheek as she hears sirens in the distance, “He never thinks of his own safety.” 

If Derek and Spencer have something comforting to say, they don’t say it, and she’s grateful, unable to cope with platitudes as she sits on the cold, wet, ground, cradling the man she loves in her lap.

When the ambulances arrive, Derek has to physically pull her away from Aaron, his grip on her tight as the EMTs do their job.

___

She keeps her eyes fixed on him, the rhythm of his heart rate on the monitor a reassurance she desperately needs. 

She’d sent the others back to the hotel. In the morning they’d likely go home, something she knows Aaron will insist on when he wakes up, but she’d stay as long as he was here. The thought of leaving him here something she wouldn’t even entertain, no matter how much he tried to convince her. 

She holds his hand, his skin warmer now than it had been earlier but still cooler than usual. She hooks her fingers around his wrist, the feeling of his pulse another reassurance she needed, the thready, slow pulse she’d felt earlier still haunting her. The press of it permanently tattooed into her skin. 

If they’d been any later, she could have lost him. That’s what the doctor had told her. If he’d been out there for much longer than he had been he would have died. 

The thought alone is enough for tears to press at the back of her eyes as she stares at their linked hands. She knew in the grand scheme of things she hadn’t been with him for long, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him. 

“Em?”

She looks up so quickly that her neck pulls, something she barely feels as her eyes meet his, a relieved sigh escaping her as she squeezes his hand.

“Hi,” she says, “How are you feeling?” 

He clears his throat, “Sore,” he says, his ribs aching in a way that was familiar from injuries in the past. He shivers, cold seemingly having settled in his bones, even though he was under multiple blankets, “Cold.” 

She smiles and stands up, perching on the edge of the bed, needing to be as close to him as possible, “That’s not surprising,” she says, leaning in to stamp a kiss against his lips. When she pulls back she adjusts the cannula delivering him oxygen, making sure it’s straight as she carries on, “You did go for a swim in a creek when it was snowing,” she tries to joke, but it falls flat and he squeezes her hand, “What the hell happened?” 

“I lost control of the car,” he says, shaking his head like he’d done something wrong. He frowns as Detective Rooney comes to mind, Emily’s presence - her warmth - having distracted him so far, “Did Rooney…”

He trails off and she sighs, running her thumb back and forth over his wrist, “He didn’t make it,” she says, shifting closer when she sees the guilt flash across his face, “I’m so sorry honey.” 

“He had his seatbelt undone,” he says, swallowing thickly, guilt bitter on his tongue, “He was thrown from the car. I found him in the creek,” he says, shivering as if the mere mention of the water makes him cold again, the memory of it, of his wet clothes stuck to his skin, making him tremble, “I tried to save him.” 

She sighs as he unknowingly proves her right, and she leans down, resting her forehead against his, “When you’re better,” she says, stamping her lips against his, “We’re going to have a conversation about you putting yourself in danger like that.” 

“He has…had a family.” 

“And you have one,” she says, her eyes stern as she pulls back to look at him, “How do you think Jack and I would cope if we lost you.” 

He smiles at the way she casually refers to herself as his family, and it takes everything in him not to ask her to move in with him on the spot. 

“So,” he says, smiling softly, “When can you break me out of here?” 

She knows he’s changing the subject so he doesn’t have to talk about it, and she knows they’ll talk about this again. Talk about the guilt he feels about Detective Rooney, and her irritation at him putting himself in a situation where he could have died in order to try and save him. Now wasn’t the time. She’d wait until the were home, when the cold chill that had permeated his skin had gone completely. 

She shakes her head lovingly at him, “Between your grade 2 concussion,” she says, pushing his hair out of his face to see the bandage on his forehead, “Your hypothermia and your four cracked ribs, I think you’ll be here for a while, baby,” she smiles as he groans, and she cuts him off before he can reply, “And no, I am not taking you home against medical advice.” 

He sighs, but he knows he’d do the same if their positions were reversed, “Well, if you won’t take me home, you should at least get into bed with me,” he says, smiling softly at her, “Warm me up.” 

She hesitates, because she doesn’t want to hurt him, but she nods, wanting nothing more than to snuggle up to him, to feel him breath against her. She kisses him once more before she shifts so she can join him in the bed. She’s careful not to jostle him as she pulls him into her side, his arms wrapped around him as she kisses his cheek. 

“Better?” She asks quietly and he nods against her, his forehead against her neck.

“Much better,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, “I’m sorry we’ll have to delay Christmas again,” he says, tilting his head to look up at her, “And New Year. I know the holidays are important to you.”

She holds him even tighter, “Not as important as you,” she says, kissing his forehead, smiling against his skin, her lips on the edge of the bandage there, as he yawns, “You should get some rest, sweetheart,” she says, pulling back to look at him, “I’ll be right here.” 

“Love you,” he says, closing his eyes, his exhaustion taking over. 

“Love you too.” 

She plays with his hair as he falls asleep, something she knows always helped him relax, and she sighs in relief as he gets heavier against her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and types out a text to Jessica, hesitating for only a moment before she presses send. 

I’ve had an idea. If I book a flight for you and Jack how quickly could you get here?

Only a couple of minutes pass before she gets a reply, the message making her smile wildly. 

I’ll start packing!

___

“Daddy has been sleeping a long time.” 

Aaron frowns in confusion as he starts to become aware of his surroundings, sure he must still be dreaming if he can hear Jack’s voice. They’d been here for a couple of days now, his release from hospital still several days away, and he missed his son. He’d tried to send Emily home but she’d refused, stubborn in her refusal to barely leave the hospital, let alone the state. 

He hears Emily chuckle, “That’s because he needs the sleep to get better, sweet boy,” she says, her voice quieter than Jack’s.

Aaron opens his eyes, his confusion only deepening when he’s met with the sight of Emily sitting on the chair next to his bed, Jack contently curled up in her lap, his focus on a toy that she’d given him to keep him entertained. It makes a tension he hadn’t realised he’d been carrying around in his chest ease, his two favourite people in the world always enough to make him feel better. 

“Jack,” Emily says, smiling as her eyes meet Aaron’s, her cheeks warm as he looks at them both with so much love she thinks she could cry, “Look who’s awake.”

Jack looks up, his smile wide as he tries to climb out of Emily’s lap quickly, “Daddy!”

“Careful, Jack,” Emily says, grabbing him and placing him softly on Aaron’s bed, her smile soft as Jack is immediately gentler, “Remember what we said, Daddy will be sore.” 

He nods and settles next to his father, “Hi Daddy.” 

“Hi buddy,” he says, hugging his son, wincing slightly at the pull in his ribs, “What are you doing here?” 

Jack pulls back and smiles at him, “Me and Aunt Jessie flew here today! Emily paid for our flights - I had a huge seat,” he says, his enjoyment of his flight something he hadn’t stopped talking about to Emiyl since he arrived, “We surprised you!” 

Aaron chuckles and looks at his girlfriend, “I’m definitely surprised.” 

She feels a mix of joy and embarrassment warm her from the inside out, “Jess is at the hotel,” she explains, “Jack wanted to stay here with you and me.” 

He smiles at her as he hugs his son, “What made you decide to do this?” 

She shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if she hadn’t given him what he himself hadn’t realised he needed, “We missed Christmas together, but we didn’t have to miss New Year together,” her smile soft, “Even if we do have to spend it in a hospital.” 

He smiles, everything he wants to say trapped in his chest as he shakes his head in disbelief at how it feels to be loved like this. Something he thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to prove to himself that he deserves. 

“Jack,” he says, looking down at his son, leaning in like he was sharing a secret, “I think Emily should come over and snuggle with us, don’t you?” 

She rolls her eyes as Jack nods enthusiastically, “Just like at home!” 

“Yeah,” Aaron says, looking back at her, unwrapping one arm from around Jack and offering it out to her, She shakes her head and takes his hand, letting herself be guided towards the bed, climbing in on Aaron’s other side, the three of them squished together, the pieces of the family that they were building slotting together perfectly, “Just like at home.”

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Oh we’re gonna fight

Fire & Ice

The case was over, the danger was gone and they could go home and finally celebrate Christmas.

The case was over, so she'd let her defences down, not knowing that the worst was to come.

-x-

Hi friends,

I actually have no idea where this idea came from. It was meant to only be one part, but me being me I got carried away and it is now two parts. Second part will be up in the next couple of days!

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Canon Typical Injury, Aaron Hotchner Whump

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She had felt nothing short of an exhibit in a zoo for days. 

Every interaction she had with Aaron, no matter how small, was observed carefully by their friends. The two of them watched by everyone in the team with a critical eye, the news of their relationship still fresh to the people they considered their family.

It had ultimately been her decision to tell them. Keeping it a secret had been practical at first, it helped them navigate the journey from friends to more, but then they realised they liked it. Both she and Aaron had enjoyed the peace that had come with the secrecy of the first 6 months of their relationship, the lack of involvement from anyone other than Jack and Jessica something they had both treasured. 

She knew Aaron had wanted to tell their friends sooner than she had, his desire to share his love for her with the world clear in his eyes whenever he looked at her, but she’d been hesitant. It had taken a long time to feel like she was on even footing again after Paris, something she’s sure she would have never found if it wasn’t for Aaron, for his gentle but strong love as she came back to herself, and she didn’t want to shake the foundations again, to change the dynamic of the team once more. 

In the end, it was the idea of not being able to spend Christmas with him and Jack without it raising suspicion that had pushed her towards telling their friends. She’d always loved the holidays, a fact that had surprised Aaron when she’d talked him into decorating his apartment much earlier than he usually would, her knowledge of him and the fact he could never say no to her, especially when she was naked, something she had used in her favour. 

They told the team a few days ago, using the annual party that Dave threw as the perfect opportunity. It had gone exactly how she thought it would. 

Dave had insisted he’d known for months, JJ had smiled knowingly, Penelope had asked intrusive questions and Spencer had avoided eye contact with both of them. It was Derek whom Emily had been most worried about, his dislike of any major change and desire for the truth were two things that made her nervous.

He’d been standoffish, a tension in his frame that she’d expected but had still hurt. He’d barely spoken to her since and it made her ache. 

Ultimately, it had been for nothing anyway. They’d got a call for an urgent case on December 23rd, pulling them all out of their homes and the holiday atmosphere they’d fallen into, and they found themselves hundreds of miles away, helping a team of local detectives hunt down a serial killer who was haunting a town. The unsub was devolving at speed, which meant they knew it couldn’t wait until after the holidays. 

She was furious about it, wanting nothing more than to wake up on Christmas morning with Aaron, snuggled up against his side as Jack burst into the room, his excitement forcing him out of bed earlier than normal. Instead, they’d spent the day in a cold police station in the mid-west, sneaking away to speak to Jack on the phone instead, once again promising him they’d have Christmas when they got home. 

As annoyed as Emily was about the disruption to her plans, she knew Aaron was more upset. He always worried he was letting down his son, that Jack would look back at moments like this and feel like he’d come second to everything else. So she’d pushed her own feelings down, let them roll in her stomach, and tried to help him instead, making a point of making him smile whenever she could, of encouraging him back to their hotel room with the lumpy bed every night so they could have some time together. One advantage of everyone knowing they were together now was that they could share a room officially. He no longer had to sneak back to his room at dawn, and she could take advantage of every possible moment in his arms. 

She groans as the alarm goes off, and she screws her eyes shut, desperate to steal a few more moments of sleep. Aaron chuckles from behind her and presses a kiss to the back of her head as he leans over her to turn off the alarm.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. She loved how he sounded first thing in the morning, it was a part of him that was just for her, a part of her Aaron that she could have before he slipped on his Hotch mask for the day. 

“Let’s just stay in bed,” she replies, turning in his arms and pressing her face into his chest, hiding her smile when she feels his laugh more than she hears it, the rumble of it passing from his chest into hers, “No more work.” 

“I wish we could, Em,” he says, kissing her head before he encourages her back to look at him, his fingers tangled in her hair, “But the sooner we finish this case, the sooner we can go home and have our Christmas.” 

She hums and smiles sleepily as she looks up at him, “True,” she says, placing her hand on his cheek and tugging him in for a kiss. She sighs as she pulls back, her forehead against his as she thinks about leaving this room, the strange sanctuary they’d found between over-starched sheets and faded art on the walls. The second they were with the team again they’d be under the microscope, every little thing they did or said around each other scrutinised, “Think you can yell at the others for staring at us?” 

He laughs and kisses her nose, his smile only getting wider as she scrunches it up at him, “I think that might be an abuse of my power,” he says, stamping a kiss against her lips.

She rolls her eyes playfully, “What is the point of sleeping with the boss if he won’t yell at your colleagues for you?” She says, the end of her sentence lost to a yelp as he rolls them on the bed, his body over hers as he presses her into the mattress. 

He kisses her fiercely, his hands sneaking under her, slipping under her t-shirt that used to belong to him, his hands on her as he pulls her closer, his palms warm against her lower back, his touch something she now couldn’t live without. She kisses him back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she wraps a leg around his waist, her heel against his ass as he pulls back. She hums thoughtfully, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. 

“I guess you have your uses,” she says playfully, pushing his hair out of his face, and he shakes his head at her. 

“They aren’t that bad, Em,” he replies, his smile crooked as he looks down at her, and she raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s easy for you to say, you aren’t the one Pen sends a daily sex update request to.” 

His eyes go comically wide, “She does what?” 

She chuckles and stamps a kiss against his lips as he pulls away, sitting up next to her as she sits up too, yawning as she rolls her neck. 

“I wish I could say I’m joking,” she says as she stands up, stretching her arms over her head, smiling to herself as he watches her walk to the bathroom, his eyes fixed on her thighs, on the soft skin he’d sucked a bruise into the night before. She turns to look at him and winks as she switches on the bathroom light, “If it helps, I’m always incredibly complimentary.” 

She closes the door before he can reply, his words muffled slightly when he responds. 

“I think you know that does not help.” 

___

She’s sure she’s never seen the team quite so relieved to catch an unsub. There’s a collective sigh of relief when they get a confession, all of the work of the last few days, the time they’d all lost with their families, had at least led to something. 

She sighs as she starts to take pictures down from the board, carefully piling them in a file so they can be handed over to the prosecutor. She smiles as JJ walks over and joins her, the tension that had been in her friend's shoulders since they’d arrived nowhere to be seen. 

“What did Will say when you called?” Emily asks, her smile getting wider as JJ’s does. 

“Henry was already in bed,” JJ says, looking at her friend, “But Will said he was going to make cookies so we could ‘have a proper Christmas’ the moment I get home,” she chuckles and tilts her head at Emily, curiosity shining in her eyes, “How about Jack? Has Hotch called him?”

Emily nods, “He’s speaking to him now,” she smiles as she thinks of the little boy, her love for him nothing short of overwhelming, “I have a feeling I’ll also be talked into making cookies,” she rolls her eyes when JJ raises an eyebrow, “Fine, I’ll watch them make cookies and be the test taster.” 

JJ laughs and looks past Emily, nodding when a uniformed officer they’d been working with beckons her over. She pauses briefly next to her friend and places her hand on Emily’s shoulder. 

“You both seem really happy, Em,” she says, squeezing her shoulder, “If there’s any two people who deserve that it’s the pair of you.” 

Emily presses her lips together, a failed attempt to hide her smile, and she places her hand over JJ’s, briefly squeezing it, “Thanks JJ, that means a lot.” 

She was happy. Happier than she had ever been in her life. There were moments when it didn’t feel real, when the simplicity of the life she’d found herself felt like it was too much, like it would be snatched from her the moment the universe realised she didn’t deserve it. Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep, she’d watch Aaron sleep, her eyes fixed on the peaceful expression on his face, another part of him just for her, and she’d feel nothing short of unworthy. 

She’d told him that once, her insecurities catching up to her and forcing her to start an argument with him that she’d regretted immediately, her instincts to ruin something before it could be ruined for her still going strong. When she’d admitted that to him, tears she’d refused to shed shining in her eyes as she told him she felt like she didn’t deserve him, all the fight had drained out of him. He’d pulled her into a hug before he cupped her cheeks and held her in place as he told her in no uncertain terms how wrong she was, how much he and his son loved her, how she had been the missing puzzle piece they’d been looking for. 

She was still learning to trust being this happy, to allow herself to feel it, but day by day it was getting easier. She saw everything with him. A house. Marriage. More kids. 

She wanted it all. 

She continues packing away all of the casework and she looks up from the board when she hears footsteps, her smile turning tight when Derek joins her, the tension immediately palpable. 

“Hi,” she says, clearing her throat as she looks back down at the papers in her hands. 

“Hi,” he replies, barely looking at her as he helps her break everything down. She sighs and shakes her head, her patience with her friend, one of her best friends, fraying after days of him barely speaking to her over nothing more than the fact she’d fallen in love. 

“Look, Derek-”

“Morgan, Prentiss,” Aaron says as he walks over, his hands on his hips as he blows out a breath, “I’ve got to go with them to book the unsub at the county jail.” 

Emily frowns as she crosses her arms over her chest, “But that’s an hour away,” she says, sighing as she steps closer to him, unable to stop herself even though they were working, “Why can’t Detective Rooney do it himself?” 

Aaron’s jaw tightens at the mention of the lead detective they’d been working with since they arrived. He was a good man, but in over his head, the serial killer that had torn through his hometown at Christmas the biggest case he’d ever handled. 

“He’s asked for my support,” he says, a wry smile flashing across his face. She sighs, the thought of being here, of delaying going home for any reason, enough to make her chest feel tight again. Aaron notices, because he always noticed everything about her, determined never to let anything slip by him again, her fake death something that still weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he steps forward. He doesn’t touch her, won’t cross that line here, but he does get close enough that she can smell him, his presence enough to ease some of the tension that had started to build back up. He smiles at her, a soft thing reserved for her and Jack, “It’s only another couple of hours,” he says, “Then we’ll be on our way home, I promise.” 

She nods, biting the inside of her cheek as she fights a smile, “Yeah,” she replies, tightening her hold on her triceps so she doesn’t reach out and touch him, “We’ll be home soon,” she says, smiling at him before she steps back, “Be careful, the roads will be icy.” 

“I’m always careful,” he replies, winking at her before he turns away and she shakes her head at him. 

She only looks away when he’s out of her sight and she freezes when she sees Derek staring at them, a stern expression painted across his face. She shakes her head and clenches her teeth as she steps towards him, avoiding eye contact as she goes back to her task. 

“I get it was a shock,” she says, not looking at him as she finishes up packing the first of the boxes, “And I’ve put up with you being standoff-ish for days,” she looks at him, her eyes fierce “But I’d like it if you could get your head out of your ass soon, and just be pleased that your friends have finally found happiness after everything,” she lifts the box off of the table between them, “This isn’t some fling, I love him. He loves me, so get over yourself.”

She walks away, and she makes a point of not looking back.

___

Aaron sighs as he checks his watch, any hope of getting home before the sun rises fading with each passing second. They were on their way back from the county jail, the unsub successfully handed over, and the drive home was dragging out longer than the drive out there had. 

“Keen to get home?” 

He smiles tightly as he turns to look at Detective Rooney and then nods as he looks back at the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel, the bad weather making it harder to drive than usual.

“Yeah,” Aaron replies, a smile flicking onto his face as he thinks of his son, “My son, Jack, said he’d wait to open all his presents until we got home, he’ll be so excited he’ll be bouncing off the walls.” 

“We?” Detective Rooney asks, his eyebrow raised, and Aaron fumbles for a second, realising he’d slipped up, before the other man laughs, “We all knew you were with Agent Prentiss the moment you scowled at one of my men for flirting with her.” 

Aaron clears his throat, trying to push his embarrassment back down, “Well, I appreciate you not saying anything when we were working the case, we try our best to be professional,” he says, his smile tight as he tries to change the subject, “Do you have a family?” 

Detective Rooney smiles widely, “A wife and three girls,” he says, patting his pockets to try and pull out his wallet, “I have photos somewhere, our youngest is only just a year old so this was her first Christmas,” he looks in the back seat and sees where he’d thrown his wallet when they got back in the car, “There it is,” he says, unhooking his seatbelt as he leans back to get it, “My wife was furious I was working, but I told her this is the kind of case that makes or breaks a career-”

His words are cut off by the screech of the tires, the car moving of its own accord as they hit a patch of ice. 

It takes a matter of seconds, but it feels like an eternity, everything slowing down around them as Aaron does his best to gain control of the car again. It feels like it’s floating, any grip the tires may have had long gone as the car spins out of control. 

The car leaves the road and goes down a hill, time only speeding back up as it hits a tree, the bonnet crumbling around wood as if it was made of paper. 

Aaron hits his head hard on the steering wheel, his world narrowing down to the pain in his forehead, the way he feels immediately dazed.  His last conscious thought is of Emily and Jack, and of the promises he might not be able to keep. 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Waiting Room - Chapter 5

Everything had changed so quickly, her life torn out from under her in a matter of seconds, the trajectory of what it would look like going forward permanently altered. 

Emily's life changes forever when her parents are killed. Aaron just needs a job after his marriage breaks down and he answers an ad for a private security guard. If only the young woman he'd been hired to look after wasn't entirely resistant to his presence.

A Young Hotchniss AU

-x-

Hi friends!!

I think I've said it with every chapter, but I am so blown away by the reaction to this fic!! AU's are always a bit nervewracking because people don't always love them - but I am SO pleased you have all enjoyed this!!

This was a lovely way of marking my 3 year writing anniversary...here's to the next 3!!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings on the Master List

Words: 4.7k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She almost turns back. 

She fights against every instinct to go back to Aaron knowing that he wouldn’t want her to. She can feel his blood on her hands, the crashing of her past into her present almost too much to bear. 

She blows out a breath, giving herself a moment to calm down, and then she heads down the stairs. In a previous life, before she knew the sharp sting of loss, the confusion of grieving people she never had a good relationship with, she learnt how to get down these very stairs without being detected. She knew which floorboards creaked, and which corners would have indicated to her parents that she was sneaking out.

Now it’s knowledge that might just save her life. 

She’s almost at the front door when she hears a dark chuckle and her blood runs cold. She turns slowly, Aaron’s gun in her hands, and she comes face to face with the man who had haunted her nightmares for years. She clears her throat and raises the gun, pointing it directly at the chest of the man who had been nameless to her this time yesterday. 

“You should leave,” she says, pressing her lips together to cry to stop them from trembling, “The cops will be here soon.”

Ian smiles at her, his grip on his own gun loose, as if he didn’t see her as a threat, “Look at you,” he says, his blue eyes burning into hers, “All grown up.” 

“Leave,” she says, her voice fiercer now, “Or I’ll shoot.”

He smirks as if she hasn’t spoken, “You have your boyfriend to blame for me being here. As soon as the FBI started to look into what happened again I knew I had to tie up the loose ends I left in that alley,” Ian says, looking her up and down in a way that makes her internally shudder in disgust, “I was a little more…careless back then.”

She tightens her hold on the grip of the gun, “Some might say you still are careless,” she says, proud of herself for the fact her voice doesn’t shake, “They know who you are now. They’ll know you’re the one who broke in here.”

Ian chuckles and steps closer to her, “How do you think I found out the FBI was snooping around anyway? I’ve got guys everywhere,” he smirks as he gets even closer, his eyes flicking down to her hands, how her finger lingers over the trigger, “In another life, I think we could have had some fun.” 

She sneers at him, ignoring his comment entirely as he steps towards her again, forcing her backwards, her back against the wall, “Don’t come any closer.” 

He smirks at her, “Oh love, I think we both know you aren’t going to shoot-”

She pulls the trigger as he reaches out to touch her, cutting him off before he can finish. It feels like time slows down as he stumbles backwards, his hands coming up to his chest, blood slipping out from under his fingers as he falls down, his head cracking against the floor as he hits it. She stands there, unable to move, her hands so tightly wrapped around the gun her knuckles are bleach white. She keeps the gun trained on him, her breath unsteady as it forces itself out of her lungs, as she watches his chest go still. 

It felt strange that it was that simple. That her monster, the one she’d seen in every shadow in the last five years, who had changed the trajectory of her life, was gone in an instant. It’s like a transformation in front of her, the way he shifts from a phantom to nothing more than a man. 

“Em.” 

She jumps, torn out of her trance as she turns, the gun still in a tight grip in her hands, and a shuddering breath escapes her as she sees Aaron. He was barely standing, his hand against his side as blood dripped to the floor through his fingers. He’s halfway down the stairs, supporting himself against the wall, every step clearly a struggle. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, dropping the gun to the floor as she runs over to him, “What are you doing? You’ve lost too much blood.” 

She makes it to his side, slotting herself between his good side and the wall, taking his weight onto her shoulder as she gets him to the bottom of the stairs. She usually loved the weight of him, found it comforting, her favourite way to sleep in recent weeks was half under him, but now it was a hindrance. The almost dead weight of him too much once they no longer have the wall to steady themselves against and they stumble to the floor as soon as they make it to the main foyer. 

“I heard a shot,” he grunts, wincing in pain as she lowers him to the floor, positioning them so he’s in her lap, “I thought…” He doesn’t have to say it, doesn’t have to say what the sound of the bullet had made him think. It had caused a surge of adrenaline, enough to push him onto his feet and seek her out, immediately replaced by relief when he saw her standing there, his gun in her hands. He lifts his head, groaning when he does so, when she presses even harder on his wound, “Is he dead?” 

She nods, “Yes,” she says, smiling tightly at him when he looks back at her, “He’s dead.” 

Aaron chuckles, not feeling the ache he thinks he should when his chest rumbles with it, “You’re a good shot,” he says, reaching up to touch her cheek, pressing his blood onto her skin, leaving behind a fingerprint he thinks might outlast him.

“Well I have a good teacher,” she says, pressing down on his abdomen, “Sorry if this hurts,” she says, relieved when she hears sirens in the distance, “Help is almost here.”

“Doesn’t hurt,” he replies, his eyelashes fluttering in a way that was familiar, a sign that he was falling asleep, and it fills her lungs with terror, her chest tight with pre-emptive grief. 

“You have to stay awake, sweetheart,” she says, the nickname he usually used for her slipping free, “Please stay awake for me.” 

He smiles up at her, “You called me sweetheart, I like it.” 

She chokes out a noise, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, the memory of when he’d first called her sweetheart almost overwhelming. His eyes drift shut again and she shakes him, but he doesn’t wake up. 

“Please, Aaron,” she half sobs, the sirens so close now they were overwhelmingly loud, her words quiet even to her, “I can’t lose you too.” 

___

Tick

The clock on the wall is loud. It’s all she can hear, all she’d allowed herself to hear ever since they’d arrived at the hospital, the only thing she can concentrate on so she doesn’t think about how she could lose Aaron. 

She’d travelled in the ambulance with him. His heart had stopped on the journey, something that had made the tears she’d held back since she’d found him in the hallway finally break free. 

Tock

He was in surgery, he had been for a couple of hours already. The police had spoken to her in the waiting room she was currently sitting in, had asked her questions she’d already forgotten and told her they’d be back in touch. She did know that she couldn’t go home tonight. The house was a crime scene, the body of the man who had killed her parents lying just inside the front door. The body of the man she’d killed. 

She killed someone. 

Tick 

She looks at her hands, washed clean and bright red from where she’d scrubbed them in the mirrorless accessible bathroom a kind nurse had led her into. She clenches her fists, digging her nails into her palms to try to and feel anything other than Aaron’s blood on her hands. 

He had to live. She couldn’t lose him. 

She’d survived her parent’s murders. She’d got through it, waded through the complex emotions and grief that had come with it, and recently she’d started to live again. To enjoy her life, to consider her future. And she knew that was because of Aaron. From the start, he’d helped bring her back to herself. He helped her feel safe and gave her the tools to protect herself - something that may have ended up saving both of their lives. 

Part of her hated that she’d met Aaron the way she had, that if she hadn’t lost her mother and father she likely wouldn’t have met him. A cruel twist of fate that she wasn’t even sure she believed in. Now she wasn’t sure how she’d live without him, how she’d survive his loss if he didn’t make it. 

He had to live, because somehow she’d fallen in love with him and she needed him to know that. 

Tock

“Emily?” 

She looks up from where her eyes had been fixed on the ground, her breath catching in her chest as her eyes meet Dave’s. She’d called him about 20 minutes ago, no longer able to stand being alone, and whilst she didn’t remember what she said to him the panicked look on his face lets her know it had spooked him. 

They hadn’t spoken since the argument almost a month ago, and it was the longest they’d gone without talking since her parents died. She can tell he isn’t sure what to do, a tension in his shoulders that she hadn’t seen before and she sighs, forcing a tight smile on her face. 

“Hi,” she chokes out, her voice not sounding like her own. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks, finally sitting next to her, his eyebrows furrowed together. She shakes her head, screwing her hands together in her lap, her cuticles torn to pieces. 

“No,” she shakes her head and sees how he looks down at the pjyamas she was still wearing, the dark patches of what was obviously blood standing out like a grim pattern, “It’s not my…it’s Aaron’s. He was shot.” 

Dave reaches over and squeezes her shoulder, his smile soft, and reassuring. A little too close to the way he looked at her on the day she buried her parents, “What happened?” 

She blows out a breath, her ribs aching as it escapes, “Ian Doyle, the man who killed Mom and Dad, he broke into the house. He and Aaron had some kind of altercation, the gunshot woke me up,” she wipes a tear from her cheek, “I found Aaron and then he gave me his gun, told me to go. I came across Doyle and…he came at me and I shot him,” she looks at Dave, her eyes wide as they meet his, “I killed him.” 

Dave pulls her into a hug, something she gratefully returns, “What about Aaron?” 

She sighs as she pulls back and she shrugs, “He’s alive and in surgery,” she says, pressing her lips together, “I…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.” It’s only after she’s said it she realises it’s the first time she’s spoken about her relationship with Aaron to Dave without shouting at him. She sighs again, guilt briefly overtaking her anxiety, “I’m sorry for what I said.” 

He smiles softly at her and pulls back, reaching into his pocket to take out his handkerchief, gently wiping her cheek, “You don’t have to apologise. I overreacted, and you’re not wrong,” he says, pulling his handkerchief away, a flash of blood on it, Aaron’s blood that had stained her cheek, enough to make her shudder, “I’m not your father,” he smiles wryly, “No matter how much I like to think I am sometimes.” 

She smiles softly at him, “Well, sometimes I like to think you are too.” 

It was something she’d wished more than once when she was young. Dave had always been more patient with her than her parents had been, more aware of the fact that she was a kid and would act as such. 

They fall into a brief silence and he reaches out for her hand, squeezing it gently, “Does he make you happy?” 

She nods, not having to think about it, “Yeah,” she says, laughing humourlessly, “He really does.” 

“Then that’s all that matters,” Dave says, a wry smile on his face, “Just promise me something.” 

She raises her eyebrow at him, “What?” 

“When you marry him, make sure you invite me.” 

She chokes out a laugh, something that feels out of place given the circumstances, and she shakes her head, “You didn’t even want me seeing him and now you’re marrying me off to him?” 

He shrugs, “I knew from the start there was something between you.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Oh that is such bullsh-”

“Is anyone here for Aaron Hotchner?” 

Emily freezes at the doctor's voice and she turns to look at him, swallowing thickly as she tries, and fails to find her voice. 

“We’re here for him,” Dave says, squeezing her hand before he stands up, “How did the surgery go?” 

“He made it through surgery,” the doctor says, a soft smile on his face and the relief is palpable, almost making Emily trip over as she stands up, “You can go see him if you’d like, one at a time though.” 

She nods as Dave encourages her forward, his hand on her shoulder as she turns to look at him, “I think we both know it’s you he’ll want to see when he wakes up,” he says, smiling softly at her, “I’ll wait here.”

“Thank you,” she says, smiling at him once more before she lets the doctor lead her out of the waiting room. 

She follows him down a hallway, trying but failing to listen to everything he was saying, her mind focused on nothing but seeing Aaron again and the relief that he’d made it. When she walks into his room a nurse is checking his vitals, a blonde woman with a kind smile who introduces herself as JJ before she leaves them alone, letting Emily know she would just be right outside if she needed anything. 

Emily walks over and sits in the chair next to Aaron’s bed, and she blows out a slow breath as she looks him over. He almost looked like he was sleeping, the usual slack expression on his face that she’d seen so many times before, but he was pale, the bags under his eyes pronounced by the pallor of his skin, and it makes her ache. She reaches out for his hand and jumps at the cool touch of it, something she knew was due to blood loss. He was usually so warm, her own personal furnace, and she cups his hand between both of hers, hoping that she can somehow press her warmth into his skin, that she could do for him what he’d done for her countless times. 

She isn’t sure how long she sits there intently watching his face, looking for any slight change, any flicker, that would indicate he was waking up, when she spots his lashes twitch. She stands up, one of her hands leaving his as she runs her knuckles down his cheek, her touch soft as she hopes to pull him back into consciousness. 

“Aaron,” she says quietly, her eyes searching for another sign he is awake, smiling when his eyes start to open, a relieved sob catching in her chest when his eyes meet hers, “Hi.” 

He blinks a few times, his vision blurry until she comes into focus, her smile the first thing he sees. 

“Hi.” He says. His voice is rough and she reaches for the small cup of water on the side table without prompting, offering him the straw so he can take a sip, the tepid drink soothing on his throat. “How are you?” He asks as she places the cup back down and she chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

“You’re the one who was shot,” she says, wrapping her hand around his again, tears pressing at the back of her eyes when he weakly squeezes back, “I’m fine.” 

“You shot someone, Em,” he replies, gently encouraging her to sit on the edge of his bed, “I know what that costs a person.” 

She sighs and she reaches out to run her fingers through his hair pushing it from his forehead, “I think I’m still in shock,” she says honestly, her lips pressed together as she shakes her head, “I can’t believe after all this time he’s just...gone. No longer a threat. I’m sorry you got hurt.”

He frowns at her, “It’s my job,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow at him, “Not like that. Well…not just like that,” he adds, the medication in his system and the pain making it difficult to make sense of his thoughts, “I love you. You’re supposed to protect the people you love.” 

She presses her lips together in a failed attempt to hide her smile, his casual confession washing over her, unfurling the last of the tension in her chest, “I love you too,” she says, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, “And I’ll say it again when you wake up in the morning and can’t remember this.” 

He frowns, not quite understanding what she means and he groans as he shifts in bed, pain radiating up his side, “We might have to get in touch with Dave and tell him I’ll be out of action for a while.”

“No need,” Dave says from the doorway, a smirk on his face when Emily turns around that lets her know he’s heard more than she would have liked him to.

Emily narrows her eyes at him, “I thought the doctor said only one visitor at a time.” 

He shrugs, walks in and takes a seat, “I charmed that lovely young nurse outside.” 

“You mean you annoyed her into letting you in here.” 

“Anyway,” he says, acting as if Emily hadn’t spoken, addressing Aaron as he leans in closer, “There isn’t a threat anymore, so your services are no longer required.”

Emily rolls her eyes, “Dave-”

“Are you firing me?” Aaron asks, tilting his head at the older man whose smirk only gets more mischievous. 

“Yes.”

“Well, you can’t fire me,” Aaron says, “Because I quit,” he smiles when Emily turns to look at him, a curious look on her face, “Once I’m better I’m taking my girlfriend to Paris.” 

She smiles and squeezes his hand, the thought of going somewhere with him, of being anywhere other than the house that had never really been a home, overwhelming. “I think I’d like that.” 

___

Two Years Later

“God I hate flying.” 

Aaron smirks as Emily yawns and leans further into his side, the luggage carousel seemingly intent on never pulling their suitcases around. He leans in to kiss her cheek, smiling when she turns at the last second, the kiss landing on her lips instead. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her once more before he pulls back, “You’ve said that approximately every five minutes since we left Paris 9 hours ago.” 

She narrows her eyes at him playfully, “You’re the one who asked me to marry you,” she says, smiling as she looks down at her left hand, the engagement ring he’d placed there just a few months ago shining in the bright lights of the airport, “That means you have to put up with my complaining for the rest of our lives.”

He smiles and kisses her again, fiercer this time, pulling back only when she moans, the sound reminding him that they are in a very public place. His smile gets wider as she chases him, her eyes still closed. 

“It’s my honour to do so,” he says, kissing her forehead when she pouts at him slightly. He looks over her shoulder and spots their cases finally coming around the corner, “I’ll grab the cases, you wait here.” 

She does as he’s asked, knowing from experience that if she tried to help he’d simply glare at her. He liked to look after her and, as much as she sometimes hated herself for it, she liked to let him sometimes. 

They’d been in Paris ever since they’d left the US when Aaron was told he was fit to fly after the shooting. Emily hadn’t felt comfortable in the house anymore, any comfort she had once found there gone because of what had happened there. She swore sometimes she could still hear the gunshots echoing the hallways, or see where Aaron’s blood had stained the floor even though it had long since been cleaned up. She’d see the spot where she’d killed Ian and almost hear his laugh, a sound she knew she’d never escape. 

Paris had been their refuge, a place she’d always loved as a kid, a place that held some of her happier memories with her parents. It was nice to see it afresh through Aaron’s eyes, to take him to places he’d only ever read about in French class, to see the beauty that she’d once thought was lost forever because he saw it. It made sense to not move back to the US, at least not for now, and they were only back for a visit. 

Because of a promise she’d made in a hospital waiting room, when she wasn’t even sure Aaron was going to survive. 

“Ready?” 

She looks up and smiles at Aaron, nodding as she adjusts her hold on her purse, “Ready.” 

___

She looks herself up and down in the mirror, turning to check her profile and the back of the dress. It was simple, or at least more simple than any dress she’d ever imagined she’d wear at her wedding. It was white and off the shoulder, an a-line dress made of satin that ended at her knee. She’d curled her hair so it rested over her shoulders, contrasting nicely with the colour of the dress. 

She leans in closer to the mirror to check her make-up and hears a slight knock on the door, “Come in.” 

She hears a gasp behind her and smiles as she turns, not missing the glassy look in Dave’s eyes. 

“Bella, you look…well, bella,” he smiles, walking over and pulling her into a hug, “Thank you for coming back to do this,” he says as he pulls back to look at her, his hands still on her shoulders, “I know flying internationally it goes against wanting to keep it short and sweet.” 

She chuckles, “Well you are our only guest,” she says, pressing her lips together to stop them from trembling, her emotions catching up with her, “And I did promise.” 

He nods and leans forward, stamping a kiss on her cheek, "Your mother would be proud of you," he says, squeezing her shoulders.

She exchanges a tight smile with him and shakes her head. "No she wouldn't be," she says laughing, "She'd be furious I was getting married in city hall," her smile turns wistful, "I'd have agreed to a big ceremony just to shut her up, and then dealt with months and months of conversations about 'chicken vs salmon' and 'peonies vs calla lilies," she presses her lips together, "The only thing I wouldn't have given in on would be the dress."

"And the groom," Dave says, smiling at her knowingly, and she chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat.

"Yeah," she says, her lower lip trembling slightly, love for the man getting ready just down the hall blooming in her chest, "And the groom," she wipes a stray tear from her cheek, "I miss them," she says, blowing out a steady breath, "Is that ridiculous?"

"Of course not, Bella," he says, pulling her in for a hug, "No matter what, they were still your parents."

“Yeah, they were,” she says, hugging him back, resting her cheek on his jacket, “And so are you.” 

He holds her even tighter for a moment, “Promise me something?” 

“Still working on the last promise I made you,” she says, smiling softly at him as she pulls back from the hug, “But it depends on what you want.”

“I’m too young to be a grandfather,” he quips, taking delight in the way her eyes go wide, the way her mouth falls open, “But if you do decide to one day, please move back here and do it. I hate flying.” 

She chuckles and shakes her head at him, “I’ll see what we can do, Dave.” 

There’s another knock at the door and she smiles at Dave before she calls out, knowing it could only be one person, “Come in, honey.” 

Aaron walks in, adjusting the cufflinks she’d bought him for the day, “We should get going…” he drifts off as he looks up, his eyes fixed on her, “You look beautiful.”

She walks over and kisses him, straightening his tie as she does so, “You look pretty damn good yourself.” 

“Okay kids,” Dave says, breaking the moment and walking over, a hand on each of their shoulders, “Before you get too lost in how much you love each other, let's go get you married.” 

Aaron nods and looks at his fiancee, reaching out to squeeze her hand, “Let's go get married.” 

___

The clerk at the check-in desk is enthusiastic, to say the least, when she takes their paperwork from them, filing it next to a series of troll figures on her desk, her smile wide and as bright as her pink-framed glasses, as she tells them congratulations and directs them to a waiting room just outside of the judge's chambers. 

Emily and Aaron sit next to each other, their hands linked on her lap, and Dave purposely sits apart from them, giving them space he knows they need. Emily sighs as she rests her cheek on Aaron’s shoulder and he turns to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She hums as she tilts her head to look up at him, “More than okay,” she says, smiling reassuringly at him, “I just…” she drifts off, unsure how to put it into words, how to explain that every event like this was marked by the fact her parents couldn’t be here. 

“You’re thinking about your mom and dad,” he says softly, squeezing her hand, and she nods, grateful that he knows her so well. 

“It’s weird,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek, “If I hadn’t lost them like I did, I wouldn’t have met you, and that feels…” she shakes her head at the thought of it, “I don’t like to think about that, but it makes me feel awful at the same time. Like I’m grateful for them being gone because it brought me you.”

He knows there's nothing he can say, that no matter how much he wants to he can’t take this pain away from her. He leans in and stamps a kiss on her lips, a gentle thing that’s barely there. 

“It’s okay to be happy, Em,” he says, a mantra they’d had ever since they’d got together, “And, I like to think in every universe we would have found each other somehow.” 

She smiles at the thought of it, love and joy spreading through her chest, making it ache in a way that she never wanted to live without, “I could have worked for you at the FBI.”

He makes a show of fake shuddering at the thought, “God, you would have been a nightmare,” he says, fighting a smile as she scoffs, “You would have gone against my orders all the time.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, “You would have loved it.”

He nods, “I would have,” he says, kissing her softly, “I love you.”

She rests her forehead against his, “I love you too.” 

“Applicants Prentiss and Hotchner?” 

Emily pulls back and smiles at her fiance, the man who will be her husband in a matter of minutes, and he squeezes her hand. 

“Ready?” He asks and she nods, her heart hammering in her chest, nervous excitement thrumming under her skin. 

“I’ve never been more ready for anything.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

…whut

Waiting Room - Chapter 3

Everything had changed so quickly, her life torn out from under her in a matter of seconds, the trajectory of what it would look like going forward permanently altered. 

Emily's life changes forever when her parents are killed. Aaron just needs a job after his marriage breaks down and he answers an ad for a private security guard. If only the young woman he'd been hired to look after wasn't entirely resistant to his presence.

A Young Hotchniss AU

-x-

Hi friends!!

I am genuinely blown away by the reaction to this fic - it means the absolute world to me - much more than I could ever put into words (and that's saying something for a gal who has written 1.8 million words in 3 years haha)

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Just two more to go after this! (Chapters 4 and 5 will be posted on Monday and Tuesday.)

Please, as always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings on the Master List, but this chapter does have smut

Words: 4.4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

They don’t talk about it. 

They don’t stop, but they don’t talk about it. Neither one of them acknowledges the fact he’d slept in her bed every night since then. Weeks giving way to a month and then almost two. The shift in their relationship, something neither of them wants to name, is something just for them. Kept safe behind the closed doors of a home she once considered her prison. 

He made everything better. As if she’d been sitting in the dark for years and he’d helped her find the light. 

She didn’t want to ruin it, to dull the spark of happiness she’d found in the most unlikely of places. She wanted to make it last as it possibly could.

If anyone knew that nothing lasted forever, it was her. 

“Are you awake?”

She groans as she rolls towards him, pressing her face into his neck as she blocks out the light in the room, “No.” 

Aaron chuckles and holds her closer, his arm tight around her back, his hand against her bare spine as he kisses the top of her head, “That’s odd,” he says, his smile so wide his cheeks ache with it, “I didn’t know you talked in your sleep.” 

She lightly slaps his back, hiding a smile as he squeezes her, “Shut up,” she says, pulling back to look at him, “It’s early.” 

“It’s 11 am.” 

She narrows her eyes at the teasing tone in his voice, “Do you have somewhere more important to be?” 

He shakes his head, the thought of being anywhere but here with her almost unbearable. He knew this was a bad idea, he’d known that since before that first night, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t bring himself to not be with her in whatever way she would let him. 

He could count on one hand the number of times in his life that he’d let himself have what he wanted, and this time he wasn’t going to get in his own way. 

“No,” he says, stamping a kiss against her lips, “I don’t,” he leans in to kiss her again but his cell phone rings on the nightstand. He rolls over to grab it and his teasing smile slips from his face when he sees the name on the screen, “I do have to get this though.” 

She grumbles and tries to pull him closer, “No, stay. You’re warm.” 

He stands up, easily extracting himself from her hold, and he leans down to kiss her, “Go start the shower,” he says, picking up his phone and walking out of her room, reaching for his sweatpants as he goes, “I’ll join you as soon as I’m done,” he pulls the door closed behind him and walks far enough away so she won’t hear him before he answers, “Derek, thanks for calling me back.” 

“Long time, no speak, Hotch,” Derek says, a tone to his voice that lets Aaron know exactly how amused he is at his expense, “How is private security treating you?” 

“It’s good,” he says, “I need a favour.” 

Derek chuckles, “Missing your access to everything the FBI has to offer?” He asks, and there’s a brief pause, “How can I help?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder back towards Emily’s room, the sound of the shower starting from the ensuite filtering out from the slightly open door. He knows she wouldn’t thank him for it, that she’d hate the interference, but he wants to help. He wants to help her find the freedom she’d been long since denied. 

Even if it meant she didn’t need him anymore. 

“You remember those ambassadors who were murdered a few years ago?” He asks, lowering his voice. “The case went cold.” 

“The Prentiss’s,” Derek confirms, “Their daughter was with them.”

“Is there any way you can look at the case for me? See if there is anything the original team missed.” 

“Can I ask why?” 

“Their daughter? Emily. I’m her private security.”

There’s a pause, a long drawn out moment of silence before he hears a chuckle, “Oh man, you’re sleeping with her aren’t you.” 

“Derek.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, “I’ll look at your girlfriend’s case for you.” 

“It’s not her case, it’s her parent's case.” 

“Interesting that you didn’t say that she’s not your girlfriend,” Derek says, chuckling and Aaron sighs. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says, correcting himself a little too late. He sighs when Derek laughs at him, irritation settling in his gut, “Derek, please-”

“Calm down, Hotch,” he says teasingly, “I’ll look at the case for you. See if I can find anything.” 

“Thanks,” Aaron says, looking back towards Emily’s room, “I should go.” 

“I’ll call if I find anything,” Derek promises, “And, Aaron? I’m happy for you and your not-girlfriend.” 

Aaron shakes his head and huffs out a laugh, “Thanks.”

Once he’s hung up he wonders if he’s done the right thing, if he should simply call back and tell Derek to forget it, but he’s stopped when Emily calls out for him, her voice muffled by distance and the rushing water around her. He blows out a steady breath and walks back into her room. 

“Coming, Em.”

___

Dave lets himself into the house.

He’d had keys for years, long before Elizabeth and John were killed. He’d always been a frequent visitor, in the house almost as often as the family who lived there. There was always a different feeling in the air whenever Emily was around, filled her sense of humour and attitude that had always amused him, and driven her parents crazy, from when she was a young girl who fell asleep during parties. 

She was changed by what happened to her parents. Her sparkle dulled by it, some details of which she’d never told him. He knew no matter how long he lived he would never forget the look on her face when he met her in the police station waiting room. Her eyes wide, dark and full of shock, and dried blood cracked under her fingernails.

There had been a chance in the last few weeks again. He could see more of the old her coming back, peaking through fractures in the facade she’d carefully constructed around herself the last several years. He was curious about it, but didn’t want to pry, and he tried to ignore how Emily and Aaron would look at each other when he was around. 

He can no longer ignore it when he walks into the living room to find them wrapped tightly around each other and fast asleep on the couch. Aaron was lying on his back and Emily was on top of him, her face half pressed into his neck and her hand under the neckline of his t-shirt. His arms are around her, his fingers just barely under the hem of her sweatshirt. 

It’s clearly an embrace of two people who know each other intimately, and Dave clenches his teeth as anger floods his veins, his body almost vibrating with it. 

“Emily.” 

They both wake up suddenly at the stern way Dave says her name. Emily groans as she bangs her forehead against Aaron’s, immediately rubbing the skin that had connected with his. Her eyes go wide as she sees Dave standing in front of them, his hands on his hips and his expression furious. She stands up, extracting herself from Aaron’s embrace, and he stands too, purposely putting space between them as if his boss hadn’t just found him asleep with his hand up the shirt of the woman he’d hired him to protect. 

“Dave,” she says, clearing her throat, “What are you doing here?”

“I came over to say hi,” he replies, looking back and forth between them, “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Dave says, cutting her off, “How long has this been going on?” 

Emily sighs and looks at Aaron who nods and then she looks back at Dave, “Two months.” 

“Two months?” He asks incredulously, he scoffs and looks at Aaron, “You’re fired.”

Emily chokes on a laugh and shakes her head, stepping between Aaron and Dave, “You can’t fire him,” she turns to Aaron, “You’re not fired.”

She’s sure in any other circumstances she would enjoy the irony of this moment, the way it mirrored the moment she first met Aaron. She hadn’t wanted him around, had baulked at the idea of having him near her, but now the mere idea of him being gone makes her freeze, her chest tight with something she knows has nothing to do with the fear of what could happen to her without security. 

She just wanted him. 

Dave shakes his head, “He is here to look after you. Not sleep with-”

“Dave,” she says, shouting over him before he can continue, her irritation mounting by the second, “You have got to stop. I get that this was a shock, but-”

“A shock? You didn’t even want him here and now, what, you’re together?” He asks, shaking his head, “Do you even know how much this could put you in danger? How this could compromise his decision-making?” He says, his fury and concern for her driving him forward. He didn’t want to lose her too, she was the closest thing to family he had left, “How could you be so stupid-”

“Hey,” she shouts, cutting him off, her eyebrows furrowing, “You do not get to speak to me like that. This,” she says, pointing between herself and Aaron, “Is none of your concern.”

It’s naive and she knows it, but hearing Dave minimise what she knew was growing between her and Aaron was more upsetting than she thought it would be. It was one of the reasons she’d hid this from him. 

She knew he wouldn’t like it, his own grief over her parent’s death further keeping her stuck in place. 

“Your safety is my-”

“You are not my dad,” she half shouts, and he freezes, looking like he’s physically received a blow as he stands back, but she can’t stop now she’s started, every unkind thought she’d had for years, things that would show their face whenever she was irritated at him, “You are not him. He’s dead. I watched him die. And for the first time in years I’m doing something without….thinking about it. And I’m not letting you ruin it for me.” 

There’s a moment of silence, long and drawn out and bitter, and Dave clears his throat, shaking his head before he speaks, “In that case, I think I’d better leave,” he looks at Aaron, “If you think I’m finished with you, you’ve got another thing coming. 

Dave looks at Emily one more time before he leaves, and she sighs as the front door closes, more force in the slam than necessary. She blows out a breath and turns to look at Aaron, the anger in her chest immediately dissipates at the barely concealed concern she can see in his eyes. No matter how she might feel, how furious she is at Dave, it was Aaron’s job that was now on the line. Guilt licks at her insides as she blows out a steady breath. 

She’d done it again. She’d hurt someone she cared about by simply getting close to them. 

She walks over and grabs his hand, linking her fingers through his. She smiles when he looks at her, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

“We’ll figure something out,” she says, “I’ll talk to Dave when we’ve calmed down a little,” she pulls him closer, encouraging him to wrap his arms around her, returning the favour by looping her arms around his neck, “And if he’s still insistent I’ll start covering your paycheck.” 

He appreciates her attempts to cheer him up but he scrunches up his nose as he runs his hand up and down her back, “Wouldn’t that make me some kind of concubine?” 

She chuckles and leans forward to stamp her lips against his, “Well you are incredible in bed,” she was jokingly, waggling her eyebrows suggestively at him. 

He smiles, everything he was worrying about disappearing the moment she laughs - a sound he thought was the most beautiful thing in the world. His touch becomes firmer, more insistent, his palm against her lower back as he pulls her closer.

“Just incredible?” 

She smiles and sinks her teeth into her lower lip, looking up at him through her long lashes, “You might have to give me a little reminder of just how good you are.” 

For a split second, he hesitates. He can see she’s still upset, regret for the way she’d yelled at Dave, the man she’d once told Aaron was the best parent she’d ever had, painted all over her face. But he can also see desperation in her eyes, a need for him in the dark, deep depths of them and he can’t help himself.

He’d been pulled in by her the moment they met, her stubborn attitude clearly a cover from the start. The more he’d learnt about her the more he was pulled in. She was beautiful in every way/

He leans in and kisses her, his lips fierce against hers, and he knows he’s made the right decision when she moans into the kiss. She grasps at his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp as she pulls him closer. His hands skate down over the globe of her ass, squeezing for a moment before he grasps the back of her thighs. He pushes upwards and she jumps as he lifts her, their kiss not breaking for a moment as she wraps her legs around his waist and he secures her in place. 

She gasps as she pulls back from the kiss, breathless as he immediately starts to kiss her cheek, then her jaw and neck, licking across her skin as he starts to walk them towards the stairs. She chuckles breathlessly as he takes the first step, her told on him tightening. 

“Don’t drop me,” she says, and he stops his assault on her neck, pulling back just enough to speak, making her shiver as his breath skips along her skin damp from his attention.

“Trust me,” he says, tightening his hold on her, his grip on her thighs pressing into bruises he’d left the day before. Tattoos of his fingerprints on her skin that she never wanted to fade. She nods and kisses him, her lips briefly against his before she kisses his jaw, nipping at his skin in a way that makes him hold her even tighter. 

When they make it to her bedroom he lowers her to the bed, only slipping his hands out from under her when she’s lying down. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down her legs in one go. He growls as he looks back up at her, not missing the smug smile on her face as she rests on her elbows.

“No underwear?” He asks, disposing of her leggings over his shoulder, paying no attention to where they land as they softly thump against the floor

She shrugs, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as he trails his hands up her legs, a trail of goose pimples following his touch, making her shiver, “Seemed pointless,” she says, barely biting back a groan as he pushes her thighs apart, “You’ve ruined enough of them.” 

He feels a sense of pride surge through him, warming him from the inside out as he grasps at her thighs again, pulling her closer as he kneels at the end of the bed, hauling her legs over his shoulders. He turns his head to kiss her thigh, sucking a bruise onto it, adding more to the pattern he’d already left against her skin. He growls against her when she shifts her hips. 

“So beautiful, baby,” he says, pressing a soothing kiss to the fresh bruise he’d just left, “So fucking beautiful.” 

She clenches her thighs, so desperate for some friction that she can almost feel it thrumming under her skin, “Aaron…please-” Her plea is cut off as he licks through her, matching moans escaping them as her elbows give way from underneath her, “Fuck, yes. That’s it.”

She grasps at his hair, holding on so tightly he briefly thinks she might pull it out, but then he’s distracted by her. The taste of her, the feel of her, the sounds she is making as he builds her up, an expert on her and what she liked by now. He continues to push her towards the edge, his tongue insistent on clit as he moves just enough to slip two fingers inside of her, smirking against her when her moans turn guttural. 

She comes. Hard. Her entire body shaking as he has to place his palm on her belly to keep her in place, continuing his ministrations as she comes down, a shaky laugh escaping her as she presses her heel into his back to get his attention. He pulls back to look at her, a grin on his face that she’s sure should annoy her, but it doesn’t. 

“Take off your clothes,” she says, pulling her sweater over her head, winking at him when she reveals that she wasn’t wearing a bra either. He nods and stands up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand in a way that makes her blush and push her thighs together, her need for him not diminished by the orgasm that was still making her skin fizz. He sheds his clothes quickly, letting them join hers on the floor, and he crawls onto the bed, placing himself on top of her, his nose bumping against hers as he pins her down. 

She pulls him into a kiss, groaning at the taste of herself on his tongue. She rolls them, smiling as she ends up on top of him, his hands firm on her hips as she grinds against him, his groan breaking their kiss. 

“Fuck, Em.” 

“I should hope so,” she jokes, kissing him quickly again, grinning as he chases her. She reaches between them, her smile turning into a smirk when he releases a punched out groan as she pumps him a couple of times before she guides him into her, both of them moaning at the now familiar stretch. She sinks all the way down on him, her breath stuttering in her chest as he bottoms out, “Fuck you feel so good.”

He moans as she rolls her hips and he sits up so they are chest to chest. He pushes his hips up into hers, tasting the sigh she releases as he kisses her. She pulls back from the kiss when she has to and rests her forehead against his. He holds her in place, his hand on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. 

They maintain eye contact as they move in tandem, a dance they’d perfected weeks ago, something she was sure was somehow perfect the very first time they’d done this. It feels weirdly more intimate than the sex itself, her forehead against his as she moves her hips against him, breathless moans escaping both of them as they both get closer to the edge. 

He isn’t sure how much time passes before her thighs start to shake around his waist, the first sign that she is close. He can feel the familiar pull low in his gut, signalling the end of his own control, and he reaches between them, rubbing gentle circles over her clit until her hips start to stutter. 

“Come with me, sweetheart,” he says, the nickname that had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks finally escaping, floating on the air around them as they both come, pulling the other in for a kiss, the action lost to their groans. She buries her face in his neck, her body shaking against his. 

They stay like that for a moment before he cups her cheek and guides her backwards just enough to smile at her, his thumb gentle on her skin as he stamps a kiss against her lips. She smiles as she pulls back, biting the inside of her cheek as she attempts to control it. She reaches up to push some of his hair from his forehead. 

“Did you call me sweetheart?” 

He clears his throat, embarrassment flooding his chest and tinting his cheeks pink, “Yes, I’m so-”

“I liked it,” she says, pressing her lips together as she cuts him off, stopping him from spiralling, “I…wouldn’t be against you calling me that again.” 

It’s dangerous territory and they both know it, a move towards something neither of them quite has the courage to name, but he smiles and nods, stamping another kiss to her lips before he encourages her off his lap. He pulls the covers back just enough for them both to slip under it, his grip on her never diminishing as he slips his arm around her, pulling her into his side. She’s quiet, contemplation painted across her face as she draws mindless patterns on his chest. 

“You ok…sweetheart?” 

She smiles softly at him as she tilts her head to look at him, her fingers never stopping stroking across his skin, “I know I was hard on Dave,” she says, sighing as she shakes her head, “He’s always tried his best…but he doesn’t get it. He wasn’t there,” she clenches her teeth and clears her throat, pushing away emotions she’d never really allowed herself to deal with, “It’s so hard to grieve people you didn’t have a great relationship with in the first place.” 

He hums as he thinks of his own father, of the violence that had eroded through every aspect of his life, including the damage he did to his own body with alcohol. Aaron was young when he died, but old enough to understand he didn’t miss him in the way he should. 

“It’s difficult,” he says, kissing her forehead, “Even more so because you were there.” 

He saw her trauma in almost everything she did. The way she was careful in a way that seemed unnatural when compared to everything else about her. It makes him feel even more sure he did the right thing by having Derek look into the case. He wanted nothing more than to help her set herself free. 

“Before they died I had all these plans,” she says, sighing as she closes her eyes, “I was going to do my masters. Work abroad. At one point I wanted to get into law enforcement,” she smiles sadly, “Although my therapist says that one was mostly to piss off my mother,” her smile fades and she swallows thickly as she looks at him, “Now I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m stuck, like my life stopped in that alley and now I don’t know how to restart it,” she looks away so he doesn’t see her eyes start to shine, the tears she never shed pressing at the back of them, “I know what you’re thinking,” she says, her gaze fixed out of the window, her hand finally stilling on his chest, “Poor little rich girl. Has all these opportunities and all this money, and she doesn’t know what to do with it all.” 

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

She raises her eyebrow as she tilts her head up to look at him, a laugh catching in her chest, “Well, then you’d be the first.” 

Aaron reaches out for her hand, linking their fingers together as he squeezes, wishing more than anything that he could make her believe that she was worth more than she thought she was, “I was thinking that it must be hard to start again from scratch.” 

She stares at him, wondering if she’ll catch him out in a lie, but she doesn’t. She smiles softly, “Well, I think you probably know how that feels more than most.” 

He laughs as he nods, looking down at his left hand, at the place his wedding ring used to sit, “That’s true. Although,” he says, sitting back in his chair, “Some people might say I’ve landed the perfect job.” 

She laughs for real this time and shakes her head at him, “What? Watching a 25-year-old woman all day every day in case someone tries to kill her?” 

He shrugs, his words escaping before he can think better of them, “Working with someone as interesting and as beautiful as you,” he offers her a half smile, a hint of a dimple that drove her crazy. He knew she hated feeling vulnerable, that this kind of conversation made her feel uncomfortable, so he offers her an out, “Not to mention the fact you’re incredible in bed.” 

Emily fakes offence, fighting a smile at his repetition of her earlier joke, and shakes her head as she looks up at him, “Just incredible?” 

He smiles as she climbs onto his lap, his hands on her waist as he steadies her. He hums like he’s thinking about it. 

“Wonderful?” He tries, and she narrows her eyes, shifting her hips against his, smiling when she curls her arms around his neck, leaning in so her nose bumps against his, “Mind-blowing?” 

She leans in to kiss him, stopping when her lips hover in front of his, just enough space for her to speak, “Better.” 

He pulls her in, his lips fierce against hers and his hands on her back, holding her as close as he can, smiling as she moans into the kiss. They lose themselves in each other, the world around them disappearing, both of them drowning in this situation they found themselves in, consequences be damned. 

They are both fast asleep, wrapped around each other like vines, when the porch light comes on. The sensor brought to life by the man whose name Emily didn’t know but whose face had haunted her nightmares for years. 

By morning, the delicate purple freesia left on the doormat had blown away in the wind, a missed warning sign that they wished they’d seen in the days to come. 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

Ouch, so fluffy it hurts

Can I make a request. Can you please write a fic where Emily and Aaron on the bed cuddling and discussing everything. How they fell in love how they thought they’ll never get a chance and how admired each other from distance. Fic where they just remember everything 🥰 thank you 🫶

I love this idea! <3

This came out REAL fluffy haha, so I hope you enjoy it bestie!

-x-

Our Story

Aaron tells a story to try and lull his newborn daughter to sleep.

If only his wife would stop interrupting him.

-x-

Warnings: so incredibly fluffy so please floss afterwards

Words: 2.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contentedly as she stands under the stream of hot water, her eyes closed as she lets the last of the body wash slip away from her skin. She was exhausted, so tired she thinks she might actually fall asleep standing up if she stayed in the shower too much longer. As she turns off the water, the white noise gives way to the sound of crying from the bedroom and the deep timbre of her husband’s voice, and she blows out a breath. 

Violet was six days old, a tiny little thing who hated sleep and loved to be held by one of her parents - her mother if she had her way, which meant that the five minute shower Emily had just had was nothing short of a luxury. Aaron had gently nudged her towards the bathroom, Violet tiny and safe against his chest as he shifted back and forth on his feet, trying to lull their newborn to sleep. He was exhausted too, insistent on being there for the baby as much as she was, bringing her snacks and water whenever she had to nurse, keeping her and Violet company in the middle of the night even when she told him he could go to sleep.

Even though they’d barely slept since their daughter was born, and a few weeks prior because of how uncomfortable Emily was at the end of her pregnancy, she knew they’d never been happier. It was a life she’d always wanted, one she’d never dared to dream she’d ever get. Her happiness so intertwined with Aaron, Jack and Violet’s that she knew it could never be untangled, the four of them stitched together like the world's finest tapestry. 

She groans as she pulls on her pjyamas - a pair of Aaron’s sweatpants since hers still didn’t fit, and a nursing t-shirt and bra - her body still sore and aching from labour. She grimaces as she wipes steam from the mirror, her reflection making her recoil slightly. Her hair, which she hadn’t had the energy to clean, was piled on top of her head in a bun, and the bags under her eyes were so dark she knew if she even bothered to put make-up on they wouldn’t be covered. 

“Well,” she says to herself, plucking at the material of her t-shirt, scrunching her nose up at how it gathered around curves she still wasn’t used to, “That’s as good as it’s going to get I guess.” 

She stretches, grimacing again at the way her whole body feels like it hurts, and yawns again before she takes a deep breath, called towards the bedroom by her daughter’s cries, an ever present ache she seemed to have in her arms these days when she wasn’t holding her. She smiles as she opens the door and her eyes meet Aaron’s.

He’s pacing back and forth in their bedroom, talking softly to Violet, his lips against her dark hair as he whispers things only she can hear. He’s got her secure to his chest, his hand bigger than her back, and Emily thinks she has never loved him more than she does in moments like this. 

“Look Vi,” he says, smiling at Emily as he talks slightly louder so she can hear him over Violet’s cries, “Mommy is back,” he turns his attention to his wife, “You could have stayed in there longer, we would have been fine.”

She smiles and walks over, resting her head on his shoulder to look down at her little girl as she wraps her arms around her husband, “I know you would have been,” she says, kissing him through the material of his shirt, “But I think if I stayed in there any longer I would have fallen asleep.” 

Aaron chuckles as he turns his head to capture her lips in a kiss, smiling as he pulls back from her, “You look beautiful.” 

She presses her lips together as she blushes, shaking her head at him, “Usually I’d be mad at you for lying to me,” she says, trailing her fingers through his hair, “But right now I think I love you for it.”

“Not a lie,” he says, kissing her again, “You’re always beautiful,” he insists, and she rolls her eyes, but she’s cut off by Violet crying sharply, seemingly fed up about still being in Aaron’s arms when Emily is right there, “Okay, princess,” Aaron says, kissing the baby’s temple, “I get it, Mommy is back so you want to go back to your favourite person,” he looks at Emily, “Want to get into bed and I’ll hand her to you?”

She nods and walks over, groaning in discomfort as she climbs under the covers and rests her back against the headboard. She smiles lovingly at Aaron as concern splashes across his face. He’d never been any good at seeing her in pain, and he’d been a wreck when she was in labour, no matter how much he tried to hide it from her, but he’d never wavered. Always exactly what she needed him to be - both her physical and mental support as she brought their daughter into the world. 

“I’m fine,” she says, reaching out for Violet, smiling as he passes her over, “I had a baby less than a week ago.” 

“I know,” he replies, climbing into bed next to her, smiling at the sight of his two girls together, “I was there - I’m the one whose hand you almost broke.” 

She shakes her head at him and rests Violet against her chest, making sure she’s as settled as she can be. She’s stopped crying now, but she’s awake, stubborn in a way both of her parents would spend their lives insisting was the fault of each other. 

“It’s going to be a long night,” he says, looking down at Violet, and Emily hums in response.

“You should carry on talking,” Emily says quietly, “Your voice settles her I think,” she looks up at him, smiling softly as their eyes meet, “Or at least it always did when she still lived inside of me.” 

He smiles at the thought of it. He’d spent months talking to her belly, laying his head level with Emily’s bump as she sat up in bed and read her book. He’d tell Violet about anything and everything, and Emily always swore she moved less when he was talking, as if the deep timbre of his voice soothed her. 

“What should I talk about?” He asks, shifting closer and resting his arm over his wife’s shoulders, letting her lean against him. 

Emily shrugs as she tilts her head to look at him, a yawn escaping her as she replies, “Don’t ask me I think my brain is shutting down from lack of sleep,” she says, smiling when he kisses her, “What were you talking about before I came in?” 

Aaron clears his throat, something close to embarrassment flooding his chest, which is only enhanced when his wife tilts her head at him curiously, “I was telling her about us.” 

Even if she wanted to, Emily wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from smiling. There were moments when he’d still surprise her, when this soft side of him that belonged to her and their children would come out and it would take her breath away. It was a type of affection she would have once thought he wasn’t capable of, a part of himself he would only allow to be seen by those he trusted and loved the most. A type of affection she knew he would always partially see as a weakness, the blood of the man who had taught him as such running through his veins. 

It was a privilege to be loved by him and a privilege to love him, and she knew she’d spend the rest of her life trying to be worth every second of it. 

“What about us?” She asks, her voice soft as she makes it clear she isn’t making fun of him, that she genuinely wants to know. He sighs and kisses her temple, giving himself a second to breathe her in before he speaks again.

“About how we met, how we fell in love and had her.” 

Her smile gets wider as she looks down at Violet, the baby awake but quiet, and then she looks back at her husband, “Did you tell her that you hated me at first?” 

He rolls his eyes as he always does when she says that, “I didn’t hate you, Em,” he says, placing his hand over hers on Violet’s back, “I never hated Mommy.” 

“He just didn’t trust me.” 

He raises his eyebrow at his wife, “Are you going to let me tell the story or not?” 

She presses her lips together to stop herself from laughing and she nods, “Of course, honey. Sorry.” 

He shakes his head lovingly, “Now where was I before Mommy came out here and interrupted us,” he says thoughtfully, reaching out to run his knuckles over Violet’s soft cheek, “Oh yes, so Mommy came back from Paris, and she was sad because she’d missed the team-”

“You got to Paris already?” She asks, interrupting without meaning to as she furrows her brows, “I was only in the shower for five minutes.” 

“I had to skip over a lot of it,” he says completely seriously, as if Violet had the means to understand anything they were saying, “It’s too much violence for a 6-day-old.” 

She nods, understanding his reasoning and she snuggles back into his side, her head against his shoulder. It was a part of their history that she wanted to forget anyway, no matter how much it had brought them together. The similarities of what they had experienced painful and difficult, and she knew if she could she’d go back in time and save him from any of it - even if it meant she didn’t have him now. 

She knew he’d do the same for her, that they loved each other enough they’d sacrifice their own happiness if it meant the other had never been hurt in the way they had. 

“Mommy came home from Paris,” he says, starting again, “And she was sad but wasn’t hiding it very well, at least she wasn’t hiding it from me. So I asked her to tell me when she was having a bad day and that I’d help.” 

“When Daddy says ‘asks’ he means ‘told’, sweet girl,” Emily says, kissing the top of Violet’s head, “Keep that in mind for when you’re older and he ‘asks’ you to be home by your curfew.” 

“Then she started to spend more time with Jack and I,” he says, carrying on like she hadn’t interrupted. “We went to the park, to the zoo, your brother loves the zoo, princess, so I hope you’re ready to spend a lot of time there. And then one evening, after Jack went to bed and Mommy and I were having dinner in my old apartment - she kissed me.” 

“You kissed me!” She exclaims, her outrage briefly overtaking her desire to settle her little girl down, her mouth hanging open as Aaron dares to smirk at her.

It was something they’d bickered over ever since they told the team they were together. Penelope asked who kissed who, which one of them had finally made the move they’d all seen coming, and they’d both demanded it was each other. She smiles as she shakes her head at him, both of them secretly aware it didn’t matter. 

That kiss had changed both of their lives for the better. 

“We’ll continue to agree to disagree on that one,” he says leaning in to kiss her almost as if to prove his point. He smiles as he looks down, spotting that Violet is now mostly asleep, her tiny fist wrapped tightly in the neckline of Emily’s shirt. He knows he can technically stop now, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to finish telling their story, “After that, we realised how much we love each other. So Mommy moved in with me and Jack, and then I asked her to marry me and she said yes,” he smiles as Emily kisses his jaw, everything she didn’t quite have the words first the moment in the tender affection, “Then we got married in Uncle Dave’s backyard. It was one of the best days of my life.” 

“One of the best days?” Emily asks teasingly, tilting her head to look up at him, her eyebrow raised. He carefully removes his hand from Violet’s back and cups Emily’s cheek, leaning in to kiss her, smiling into it as he presses his forehead against hers. 

“Tied in top place with when Jack was born and Vi,” he says, talking to her directly now, “And when you called me at work to tell me we were having her,” he turns his attention back to a now fully sleeping Violet, “Mommy doesn’t cry a lot,” he says, smiling as Emily somehow finds a way to pinch his side even though she’s holding Violet tightly, “But I had to go to work early and she was here. She took a test and she called me in tears, she didn’t make any sense. I rushed back here thinking she was hurt and then she told me about you.”

“You should have seen him sweet girl,” Emily says, kissing the top of her head, “He was so out of breath I thought he’d run all the way home,” she looks at her daughter, smiling when she sees her mouth slack open, “She’s asleep.”

“I know,” Aaron says, running his hand up and down Emily’s arm, “Want me to put her down in her bassinet? Let you get some sleep?” 

She hums, tightening her hold on her daughter. Even though she was exhausted she didn’t want to let her baby go - even just to let her husband lay her down just a few feet away

“In a minute,” she says, closing her eyes as she rests her head back on his shoulder, “I just want to sit here for a minute.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, “Whatever you want.” 

They fall into a peaceful silence, a rare commodity in their home these days, and they enjoy it, letting it lay over them like a warm blanket.

“Aaron?”

He turns to look at her, keeping his voice as quiet as she had, not wanting to disturb their sleeping baby, “Yes, Em?”

“Our story is my favourite.” 

He smiles so widely she thinks it must hurt, and she does the same, her cheeks aching with a type of happiness she thought wasn’t real. The stuff of stories and tales told to children to make them seek it out, only to be disappointed when they grew up. But she had it right within reach, wrapped around every single part of her life. 

He leans in and kisses her, pulling back just far enough to speak.

“It’s my favourite too.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

They’re idiots in love your honor!

Waiting Room - Chapter 2

Everything had changed so quickly, her life torn out from under her in a matter of seconds, the trajectory of what it would look like going forward permanently altered. 

Emily's life changes forever when her parents are killed. Aaron just needs a job after his marriage breaks down and he answers an ad for a private security guard. If only the young woman he'd been hired to look after wasn't entirely resistant to his presence.

A Young Hotchniss AU

-x-

Hi friends!!

I am blown away by the reaction to chapter one - I love you guys so much and cannot wait to know what you think of this chapter.

And something that I am sure will surprise no one, this fic is now 5 chapters instead of four.

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings on the Master List, but this chapter does have smut

Words: 5.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She doesn’t understand it. 

She’s spent years avoiding making genuine connections out of fear of getting hurt, something she’s done her whole life if she was honest with herself, but she finds herself drawn to him after their conversation in the kitchen. She was fascinated by him, wanting to know more than the few bits and pieces she’d learned about him last month. She has a desire she doesn’t quite understand to mess with him, to ruffle his feathers and to make him smile, the dimples in his something she quickly learned made her stomach flip. 

She looks up from her book, bored of studying and research and smiles to herself as she watches him. He was sitting at the table with her, occasionally looking around the library, always focused on the lookout for potential threats. She knew he had a gun on him, ever present on his hip just in case he needed to use it. The thought of it made her shiver, and not with the anxiety guns had always caused her since that fateful night in the alley. 

She had to pull herself together. 

She tenses when he looks at her and their eyes meet, and she clears her throat, looking back down at the same page she’d read countless times, the information never quite registering. 

“What?” He asks, a half smile carving out one of his irresistible dimples in his left cheek. She looks back up at him, attempting to look nonchalant as she shrugs. 

“Nothing,” she replies, tapping her pen against the edge of the table. A moment of silence passes between them as she tries to get back to her studying, but curiosity wins out and she looks at him, “Can I ask you a question?” 

He smiles, “As long as I can ask you one afterwards.” 

It was a game of sorts that they’d started to play ever since their conversation in her kitchen. It was a way to get to know each other, to learn more about each other. They’d stuck to simple, unimportant things so far. He’d laughed when she told him her favourite artist was Siouxsie and the Banshees, and she’d done the same when he admitted that his was The Beatles. He’d smiled when she said her favourite colour was green and he told her that his was red.

Ever since he’d told her she’d found herself wearing more red clothing, a sense of pride rushing through her whenever he’d stare at her a beat too long.

She wanted to know more. Wanted more than the tiny inconsequentia facts they’d shared, or what she’d picked up on just by observing him. She wanted to know more, even if it came at the expense of revealing a little more about herself. 

“Of course,” she replies, waiting for him to nod in agreement, “Why did you take this job?” 

He tenses, his smile slipping off his face as he clears his throat. They’d stayed away from anything serious so far, purposely keeping it surface level, and he wonders what has changed that, what has made her break their unwritten rule. She tilts her head at him, curiosity painted across her beautiful face, and he sighs, finding the answer slipping past his lips, the taste almost bitter on his tongue as he speaks. 

“I got divorced,” he says simply, his hands clasped in front of him, “I needed a new start,” he smiles humourlessly, “And somewhere to live.” 

She curses herself internally, blowing out a harsh breath, “Shit, Aaron I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

He shakes his head, finding her so far uncharacteristic embarrassment endearing, “It’s fine, Emily,” he says, “Her name is Haley. We were childhood sweethearts, we got married young. It didn’t work out.” 

He hoped that one day he’d be able to think of Haley without being sad. That he’d remember the good times they had, how they helped each other escape the lives they’d once felt trapped in, without it all being marred by what they’d become. He’d always love her, but they’d grown apart. Growing sideways as well as forward, destined to drift away from each other, pushed apart by the things that had once brought them together. 

“I’m sorry,” she says again, smiling softly at him, “If it helps, from everything I know so far it’s her loss,” her smile gets wider as he smiles too, shaking his head softly at her, “Even if your taste in music sucks.” 

He laughs properly for the first time since they’d met, the sound loud, different to what she’d expected. Suddenly his dimples are her second favourite thing about him, and she resolves to hear it as much as she can. 

“Says you,” he replies, raising an eyebrow at her, and she bites the inside of her cheek, desperate to try to hold her smile back as much as she can. 

“Your turn,” she says, “And feel free to ask whatever you want.” 

He waits as he tries to pick what question to ask, to figure out what part of her mystery he wants to unravel first. He looks down at the books in front of her and then back up, “What made you decide to do a PhD in linguistics? I would have thought you were as good as a person could get at other languages.” 

She nods and clears her throat, “Well, for a start, linguistics is more than just being able to speak other languages,” she says, her smile fading as she sighs, “And it just felt like the easiest thing to do. When my parents…” she trails off, her gaze shifting back down to the book in front of her, “I was still doing my masters. After they were gone and everything changed I hung onto the one thing that felt familiar.” 

“School?” He asks and she nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. 

“Yeah,” she replies, “That and making Dave age prematurely.” 

He laughs again and she feels her stomach flip, her cheeks warm as he calms down, his expression turning serious, “Thank you for telling me that.” 

She shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if she hasn’t just admitted to something her therapist had taken years to get out of her, “Thank you for telling me about Haley.” 

Aaron smiles politely and looks at his watch before he looks back at her, “If you’re done with studying, I wanted to show you something.” 

She furrows her brows, already closing her books, making no attempt to pretend she had any intention of doing any more work, “Show me what?” 

He winks at her as he stands up, “C'est la surprise.”

She swallows thickly at the way he speaks French, his accent a little clunkier than hers but still good enough to make her body tense, everything so tightly wound she thinks she might explode. 

“I hate surprises.” 

___

He doubts himself the moment they arrive at the gun range. 

She freezes outside, her shoulders tight as she looks at him, her eyebrows knitting together as she swallows thickly, “What are we doing here?” 

Aaron steps towards her, concern and something close to guilt churning in his gut when he can practically feel the nervous energy flowing off of her, “When we met you told me you wished you knew how to protect yourself,” he says, nodding towards the gun range, “I thought, if you wanted me too, I could show you how to shoot,” he suggests, feeling nervous in a way he doesn’t entirely understand. The silence that follows drags out, every second feeling like an eternity as she goes back and forth between looking at him and where he’d brought her, and he eventually can’t stand it anymore, “If this was a bad idea, I can just take you home.”

“No,” she says suddenly, hardly waiting for him to finish before she looks at him, familiar determination in her eyes, “I’d like to learn how to.”

He places his hands on his hips and looks at her, waiting for any sign that she was just saying it to please him, even though nothing he’d learnt about her so far would indicate that she would do so. 

“Are you sure?” 

She nods, clearing her throat and forcing out some of the tension that had gathered in her chest, any fear replaced by amazement that he’d remembered her saying anything about this at all.

“I’m sure.” 

He leads her inside, his hand hovering behind her back as she steps into the otherwise empty gun range. She frowns as she turns to look at him, the lack of other patrons confusing her, and he smiles softly. 

“I know the owner, they agreed to let us have the place to ourselves for a couple of hours,” he explains, “I thought the less sudden noises we can’t control the better.” 

“Oh,” she says, nodding, her chest warm with the knowledge of how much he’d thought about this, how much he’d thought about her and a throwaway comment she’d made the first time she was nice to him. “Thanks.” 

Any response is cut off when a tall skinny guy, whom Emily thinks looks no older than a teenager, greets Aaron with a nervous smile and a handshake. He tells them the space is theirs and leaves them to it disappearing back into the office where he came from. Emily watches him curiously as they walk past the desk and back to where the range is, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks at Aaron.

“Is that kid old enough to own a gun, let alone work here?”

Aaron chuckles and hands her some ear defenders, removing his gun from his holster before he puts defenders on his own ears, “Spence’s parents own this place,” he says, smiling at her, “When I was still in the FBI he was arrested for card counting at a casino the age of 16, I helped him strike a deal. His parents told me they owed me.” 

She doesn’t know how to feel about the fact he’d traded in an offer like that just to help her, so she does what she does best - she ignores it. Pushing the emotion down with the growing feelings she had for him, hiding them in a box she didn’t dare open, afraid he’d somehow get hurt in the long run.

Everyone who got close to her did eventually. 

She nods towards his gun, “Show me what you’re made of then Agent Hotchner.”

He turns and points his gun at the target in the distance, firing off two shots in a row, both of them going through the same spot on the bullseye. She jumps despite the ear defenders, her body tense in a way she feels ridiculous for. She shakes it off before he can turn back around, not wanting him to worry he was doing the wrong thing. 

“Impressive,” she says, stepping towards him, “My turn?” 

He nods and hands her the gun, stepping behind her as she points the gun towards the target, “Now you want to make sure-”

“It’s shooting a gun Aaron, how hard can it be?” She says, hesitating for a moment before she pulls the trigger, the pushback of the gun stronger than she expected it to be. She frowns as she misses the target entirely and she turns to see Aaron trying to hide a smile, “What are you laughing at?”

He steps towards her, “I think you’ve seen one too many movies, Em.”

She barely has time to register the nickname before he places his hands on her hips, straightening her stance with palms so warm she can feel them through her clothes. Her breath catches in her chest as his hands trail up her back, resting on her shoulders to help get them into position. She can feel his breath on her cheek as he leans forward to talk to her. 

“You’ve got to have both hands on it,” he says, reaching for the one still by her side and raising it to steady the gun, “It gives you more control.” 

She turns her head to look at him, and her breath skipping over his skin is what makes him realise how close he is to her. His eyes go wide, and his senses are immediately overwhelmed by her. The smell of her perfume, how soft her skin felt beneath his palms, the scatter of freckles across her nose that he’d never noticed before. 

He steps back and clears his throat, “Try now.” 

She nods, her tongue sticking out to wetten her lower lip, and she looks back at the target. She pulls the trigger again, with less hesitation this time, and she hits the outer ring of the target. She huffs out a laugh, a sound of disbelief caught in her chest, and she turns back to look at him. 

“You’re a fast student,” he says, clearly impressed. 

“Maybe I’ve just got a good teacher.”

They stare at each other for a beat too long, and they both wonder if the other realises how much trouble they are in.

___

“We’re late.” 

“Emily,” Elizabeth sighs as she climbs out of the car, smiling her polite thanks at the driver before she looks back at her daughter, her frown slipping back into place, “You’ve seen this movie a hundred times. You know what happens.” 

“That’s not the point,” Emily says, her fingers digging into her own arms so she doesn’t start a fight, not wanting to argue with her mother when she’d come into town to celebrate her birthday, albeit a week early.

“I had important work to do,” Elizabeth says, stepping past her daughter, “Everything doesn’t just stop because you come into town.” 

Emily clenches her teeth and tries to settle herself down, raising her eyebrow as she looks over at her father. He smiles at her, squeezing her shoulder as he steps past her. 

“Don’t mind her pumpkin,” he says, winking at her, “She’ll settle down once the show starts.” 

Emily blows out a breath and carries on walking, “Come on, I know a shortcut.” 

She leads her parents through an alley that leads to the theatre, hiding a smile as she hears her mother complaining about the smell. 

“Ambassador Prentiss?” 

Everything slows down when a stranger's voice follows them down the alley, purposeful and familiar, an edge of assurance and curiosity to it. 

Her father has barely turned around when the first bullet fires, knocking him off his feet, his eyes glazed over as he hits the ground, the resounding thud quickly followed by her mother’s scream. Emily stands frozen in place, unable to move, unable to make a sound, as she hears another shot, barely flinching this time. She looks at the two men standing a few feet away from her, one of them staring right at her, his eye piercing as she shivers. 

She waits for another shot, but it never comes, a commotion drawing the men away as soon as they’d appeared. 

“Emily.”

She’s on the floor, her eyes wide as she shifts towards her mother, the same dark eyes she looked at in the mirror every day staring up at her. 

“Emily, you’re okay. I’m here.”

“Mom,” she chokes, reaching out, her hands sticky before she even touches her mother’s chest. 

“Emily wake up.” 

___

She sits bolt upright, gasping as she desperately tries to suck in air, her lungs stuffed full of grief and fear as she struggles to breathe.

“Emily.”

She snaps her head towards him so quickly it hurts her neck, and she jumps, not entirely aware that she isn’t alone until she finds Aaron sitting on the edge of her bed. “Aaron?” 

The croak in her voice, the pain laced in his name, makes him ache, and he has to clench his fists not to reach out for her, “It’s me,” he says, smiling in a way he hopes she finds reassuring, “You were having a nightmare I think.” 

She nods, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she laughs bitterly, “Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat, “I was. I didn’t wake you up did I?”

He shakes his head, “I was going to get a drink from the kitchen and I heard you yelling,” he says, hating how she looks embarrassed, like her past and her trauma were things to be ashamed of, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

She stares through him, a shuddering breath escaping her as she closes her eyes and sees it all again. Bright red against a satin jacket she knew the cost of, a grim pattern she’d never stop seeing. The glassiness to her father’s eyes, the spark in them that she’d loved but also hated, a cheekiness he never used to stop her mother from berating her, gone forever. 

“I was there when it happened,” she says her gaze fixed on the wall behind him. He knows she was, it was part of the brief for this job, and he remembered seeing it in the news at the time, but he simply lets her carry on, lets her open up in a way he assumes she hasn’t in years, “My dad he…he died straight away. I could tell he was gone, he just…was there one second and wasn’t the next,” she swallows thickly and looks down at her hands, her right thumb rubbing firmly at the heel of her left palm, as if she was wiping away blood that wasn’t there, “But my mom…” 

She drifts off, the words heavy in her chest as they refuse to come out, stuck somewhere in between her ribs, making each breath painful. 

He clenches his hands to stop himself from reaching out for her, his need to comfort her a pull he doesn’t quite understand something that he ignores, well aware he came far too close in the gun range, “Emily, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” she says, smiling tightly at him as she cuts him off, “I’ve just never told anyone this,” her smile turns sad as she looks back down at her hands, “Even Dave,” she says, her eyes flicking back up to him as he nods in response, “My mom was still alive, the men who cornered us aimed their guns at me and then a group of people entered the street and they ran. I remember trying to stop the bleeding. I had my hands on my mother’s chest. I…I felt it when she stopped breathing,” she looks up at him, tears shining in her eyes, “I felt it when she died.” She shakes her head at herself and wipes away a stray tear that had fallen onto her cheek, “My mother and I were never close, we were never what each other wanted, but part of me always hoped one day we could be. Now that can never happen,” she sighs at the look on his face, the sympathy she can see painted across it, and anger she knows he doesn’t deserve flickers in her chest, “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” 

Aaron finally reaches out for her, no longer able to hold it back as his hand lands on her shoulder, touching her for the first time since the gun range that morning, and he squeezes tightly, “I don’t feel sorry for you,” he assures her, wondering how someone could be so beautiful even in their grief, “I was just thinking that you must be the bravest person I’ve ever met.” 

Her expression softens, and she feels her cheeks go warm, feelings she’s been trying to stuff into a box since she’d first met him cracking through its exterior. She presses her lips together and averts her eyes to break their contact with his.

“Well,” she says, clearing her throat, “I don’t think that says a lot for the agents you used to work with at the FBI.” 

He smiles, “I guess not,” he says, “Do you have nightmares a lot?” 

She shrugs, shifting so she hugs her legs to her chest, her arms tight around them as she rests her chin on her knee, “Less than I used to. I think the gunshots today triggered it.”

His eyes go wide, and he immediately feels guilty, any assurance he’d given himself that he’d done the right thing gone, “Em, I’m so-”

She reaches out and grabs his hand, wrapping hers tightly around his as she squeezes, “Please don’t apologise for the nicest thing anyone has done for me in years,” she says, smiling softly at him, “Do I strike you as someone who would do something she didn’t want to do?” 

He feels some of the tension in his chest ease and he shakes his head, all of his focus on her warm hand around his, how soft her skin is, “I guess not.”

“Exactly,” she says, squeezing his hand again, “I want to learn to look after myself. Sometimes I feel like I’m still stuck in that fucking alley, and I think if I ever want to find my way out I’m going to need to start somewhere.” 

“I’d like to help you with that,” he says, his eyes locking with hers when she looks at him, “If you’d like me to.”

She doesn’t think she can tell him that he’s already helping, that she feels more herself than she has in years when he’s around, so she simply nods. She swallows thickly, her breath still shaky, the images of her nightmare still vivid every time she so much as blinks. 

“This is going to sound stupid, but can I have a hug?” She asks, hating how her voice shakes. She waits for him to say something, but he doesn’t, he simply shifts toward her, tugging her into his arms as she unfolds her arms from around herself and wraps them around him.

“You never have to ask,” he says, ignoring how good it feels to have her against him like this, how right it feels. He makes sure to keep his hands in a respectable place on her back paying close attention so they don’t drift, “I have it under good authority I give good hugs.” 

She huffs out a laugh against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him - a cologne she doesn’t know the name of and something she knows is distinctly him. It relaxes her, helps the last of the tension seep out of her body, and she pulls back to look at him. He’s close, his nose bumping against hers as she withdraws from his embrace just enough to meet his eyes, and she nods. 

“Very good hugs.”

Her breath skips across his face, the taste of her so close to his lips that he feels his heart stutter in his chest. He’s not sure who leans in first, who closes the tiny gap between them, but he sighs as soon as her lips are pressed against his. 

She loses herself in him, letting the feel of him pressed against her distract her from everything other than him. She holds him close, her fingers tight in his hair as she deepens the kiss, her tongue pressing into his mouth. 

He pulls back, his eyes glazed as he clears his throat, desperately trying to come to his senses, “Em…”

“You called me that earlier,” she says, her eyes fixed on his lower lip as she presses her thumb into it, testing the plushness of it, every part of her itching to taste it again, “No one’s called me that in years.” 

“This…this isn’t a good idea,” he says, grasping onto her sides, unable to let her go despite his words, his protest sounding weak even to him.

“Probably not,” she says, shifting closer, pressing her chest against his, looping her arms around his neck, “But that’s never stopped me before.” 

He half-growls, his hands tighter on her hips, “Are you sure?” 

She smiles, leaning in to stamp her lips against his, “What was it we were just saying about me not being someone who does things she doesn’t want to do?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, moments that feel like they last an eternity to her, want thrumming her skin that he’d ignited with nothing more than a kiss, but then he leans forward his lips against hers as he gathers her against him. She groans, immediately deepening the kiss as she straddles his lap, letting herself get lost in him. 

Despite her desperation and the desperation she can feel in his touch, they take it slow. Stripping each other of the clothes they are wearing, his hold on her bruising as he lays her down on the bed, his gaze nothing short of intense as he pulls back to look at her. He takes his time with her, his fingers and lips and tongue tracing her edges, committing them to memory in case this is the only time they do this.

He knows this should be the only time they do, that this in itself was foolish, but as she moans his name, the sound catching in her throat as he licks across her nipple, he knows he doesn’t want to stop. He works his way down her body, planting soft kisses as he goes, smiling into her skin as he reaches her thighs and her hips jerk towards him. 

“You’re so beautiful, Em,” he says, kissing her thigh before he pushes them apart, looking up at her from his place between her legs, “So fucking beautiful.” 

She feels frozen in place as he takes her apart, his fingers inside her and tongue against her clit working in tandem, pushing her towards the edge so quickly it was almost as if they’d done this before. She barely has to direct him, she merely encourages him, the pitch of her moans and groans enough to let him know that he was doing the right thing. 

When she comes, she feels like she’s broken free, finally out of the prison she’d trapped herself in, too afraid to step out of it. Even when her vision goes black, every nerve ending on fire, she knows it’s not just the sex, the best she’d had in a long time by a mile, not just the orgasm that was still tearing through her, but it was him. It was because he cared enough about her to let her be herself again.

She blows out a breath, not wanting to think too much about it, to talk herself out of something she doesn’t want to end. She lifts her head and smiles at him, chuckling as she reaches for him and she tugs at his hair, encouraging him upwards, sighing contentedly as he lays over her. 

“Okay,” she says, rolling her hips against his, smirking when he groans and rests his forehead against her collarbone, “An excellent marksman and you’re incredible at foreplay,” she jokes, wrapping her leg around his hips, matching groans leaving them as he notches against her, “Is there anything you can’t do?” 

He smirks as he kisses her, the taste of her on his tongue as he swipes it through her mouth, “I suck at baking.” 

She laughs and pushes his hair from his forehead, “I’ll teach you. It’s the one skill I have in the kitchen.” 

“Deal,” he says, stamping his lips against hers again, “You ready?” 

She nods, her nose bumping against his, and he pushes forward, his teeth clenching at the tight heat of her, his groan pressed into her skin as he rests his forehead against her neck. She moans at the delicious stretch of him, the pleasurable sting as he seats himself completely inside of her, and for the first time in years she’s completely unaware of everything other than this exact moment. 

“Holy shit,” she grits out, her head falling back against the pillow, “You feel so fucking good.” 

“You’re perfect,” he says, kissing her neck, nipping at her skin in a way she knows will leave marks in the morning, a souvenir from something she knows should never have happened, “So fucking perfect.” 

It’s slow and gentle, and everything sex had never been for her but had always been for him. He links their hands next to her head and rests his forehead against hers, both of them too breathless to kiss. When she eventually feels her hips start to stutter, her orgasm just out of reach, she doesn’t have to say anything. He reaches between them, unlinking one of his hands from hers, and he gently circles her clit, whispering words of encouragement against her cheek as she comes for a second time, her nails digging into his back. 

He starts to lose his rhythm, his hips slightly rougher against hers, losing his control now he’d looked after her, “Where?” He grunts out, and she wraps her still shaking legs tightly around his waist. 

“In…in me,” she says, gasping as he does just that, the heat of him inside of her enough to make her sigh happily.

They lay like that for a moment, his head against her collarbone and her limbs wrapped around him, the air cooling in the room before he pulls back to look at her, a tender look in his eyes she doesn’t want to name. 

“Is this a good idea?” He asks, pushing hair out of her face, and she smiles, the irony of the repetition of his question from earlier not lost on her as he leaked out of her onto her bed. 

“Probably not,” she says, repeating her earlier answer as she makes no attempt to let him go. 

“Do you want to forget this ever happened?” He asks, his tone steady and even. 

“No,” she replies, her smile soft as he is unable to cover his relief, “No I don’t want to do that.” 

He leans down and kisses her, the action strangely more intimate now they’d already had sex, his arms tight around her as he rolls off of her, pulling her into his side, “You want me to stay?” 

She rests her head on his shoulder and reaches for his hand, linking her fingers through his, admiring the strength in them, the power he could wield but chose not to. She swallows thickly before she gives him the only answer that seems right, the only one she wants to give. 

“Yes. I want you to stay.” 

-x-

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[rawr-jess]

CUTIES 🥹❤️

No One Else

Emily and Aaron are on a well deserved vacation before their baby arrives.

When someone flirts with her on the beach, Emily refuses to let it ruin the rest of their stay.

-x-

Hi friends!

Just some good old jealous/insecure Aaron content that leads to smut. Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 4.7k (this really got away from me we all know i can't help myself with the world building)

Warnings: Pregnancy, Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Mama don’t go!”

Emily feels her heart ache as her little boy snuggles deeper into her side where they are cuddling on the couch, the two-year-old’s face buried in her chest as she holds him close. Even after all this time, almost five years since she’d stepped into a maternal role in Jack’s life, she still wasn’t used to the specific kind of guilt that came with being a mother. A heavy weight on her chest whenever she made a decision, even something as simple as going on a well-needed vacation with her husband. 

“Sammy, honey, it’s just for a few days,” she says, pushing his dark hair out of his face, smiling when it flops back onto his forehead, “And you’ll have so much fun with Jack and Aunt Jessie.” 

Samuel frowns as he pulls back, the expression making him look so much like Aaron she finds herself having to suppress a smile, “Baby sissy’s going.” 

Emily presses her lips together as she looks at her son, her other hand drifting to her rounded stomach, “That’s because your sister lives inside of me sweet boy,” she says, her smile finally breaking free, “She has to go wherever I go.”

Her pregnancy was one of the main reasons she and Aaron had decided to go away on vacation, both of them well aware their life was only going to get even busier in three months when their daughter was born. She was excited to spend some time with her husband, to soak up alone time with him and have a few days where they were just Emily and Aaron, not Mom and Dad or Prentiss and Hotch.

It also didn’t hurt that they’d chosen to go to Barbados, the chance to soak up some winter sun almost as appealing to her as spending the next several days watching her husband walk around in swim shorts. 

Samuel sighs and snuggles in closer to her again, making sure he’s as close to her as he can be with her bump in the way, “Miss Mama.”

She presses a kiss to the top of his head and holds him tightly, burying her face in the top of his head and smelling the scent of his shampoo, “I’ll miss you too, baby,” she says,” kissing the top of his head again, “But we’ll call every day.”

Any further conversation is cut off as Jack comes bounding into the room, the sound of Aaron dragging suitcases through the hallway following shortly behind him.

“We’re ready!” Jack says as he sits next to Emily on her other side, his smile wide, “I helped Dad pack.”

Emily smiles as she wraps an arm around him, tugging him closer. She knew his keenness to help out often outweighed how helpful he was, but he was insistent on helping to get the bags packed, especially since Aaron had refused to let Emily help.

He liked to claim it was because she was six months pregnant and needed to rest, but she distinctly remembered him refusing her help for their honeymoon too and she wasn’t pregnant then. He often said she couldn’t pack to save her life, something even she could admit was true, and he’d pack her go-bag for cases too back when she was still in the BAU before she switched departments when Samuel was born. Dave always joked that the first inkling he had that something was going on between them was the lack of wrinkles in her clothes, the fact they’d clearly been packed with a level of care she rarely had the energy for as she stuffed her go-bag whenever they got a call. 

“Thanks for being so helpful, sweetie,” she says, kissing Jack’s temple and smiling when he tries to shift away from her, on the edge of being a pre-teen, the first signs of finding his parents embarrassing starting to make themselves known. She winks at him as she pulls back, “I was just telling Sammy how much fun you’ll have with Aunt Jessie whilst Dad and I are on vacation.” 

Jack smiles, catching on to the fact that she wants his help to convince his little brother that everything will be fine. He leans forward to look at Samuel, a look on his face that Aaron would say was all her. 

“Sammy it’s going to be so fun,” he says enthusiastically, “And Aunt Jess will make cookies for us.” 

Samuel’s eyes light up for the first time since she’d sat down with him on the couch, “I love cookies.” 

Emily hears a chuckle from the doorway and turns to find her husband standing there looking at him, a smile on his face that never failed to make her stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with their daughter rolling her belly. 

“First smile all morning and it’s because of the thought of cookies,” he says, winking at her as he walks over, leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to her lips, “He really is all you.” 

She playfully narrows her eyes at him, fighting a smile as Jack laughs and Samuel joins in, even though he doesn’t understand, “Careful, honey. You’ve got to be nice to me or I won’t be nice to you.” 

His smile only gets wider as he stamps another kiss to her lips before he stands up straight, “Ready to go, sweetheart?” 

She nods, pulling her sons closer for a moment, enjoying the feeling of them against her for the last time in a few days. 

“So ready.”

___

Emily sighs contentedly as she settles onto the sun lounger, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin and the shift of her daughter in her belly. She places her hand on her bump and rubs a circle over it, the soft material of her black swimsuit warm against her palm. 

“This is much better than the freezing cold at home, huh sweet girl?” She says, her smile widening when she feels a kick in response. She looks up, pressing her lips together as she watches Aaron walk back towards her from the shoreline, water glistening on his skin from where he’d taken a dip in the ocean to cool off, “The view is much better here too.” 

Aaron smiles at her as their eyes meet and he starts to walk quicker, kicking up some sand as he makes it to her side, always keen to be as close to her as possible. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over her, his gaze lingering on her bump and curves accentuated by pregnancy. He knew she was somewhat self-conscious of her appearance these days, somehow more aware of it this time around than she had been when she was pregnant with Samuel. She always rolled her eyes when he said she looked beautiful, or when he stared at her a little too long, but he didn’t think he’d ever loved her more. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him as his eyes meet hers. 

“I can’t help myself,” he replies, leaning down to kiss her, smiling into it when she hooks her hand around the back of his head, holding him closer as she tastes the salt water on his lips. He pulls back, “You know you in a bathing suit is my weakness,” he says, sitting on the edge of her sun lounger, careful not to overbalance it. He places his hand on her thigh and squeezes, barely hiding a smirk when she shivers, something they both know has nothing to do with the cool water transferring from his skin to hers, “You remember our honeymoon right? We had Sammy 9 months later.” 

She shakes her head and laughs at him, “I remember I wore a lot of barely-there bikinis in our private villa,” she says, sighing as she looks at her bump, running her hand over it again, scrunching her nose up at the sight of her one piece, “Not this…tarp of a one piece.” 

He’s careful not to laugh, clearing his throat to stop the sound from escaping as he shifts his hand to her stomach, smiling as he feels their daughter move.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, leaning down to kiss her bump, both of them laughing when the baby kicks a little harder than usual, “You’re beautiful too princess, don’t worry,” he says to the bump before he sits back up, smiling at his wife as their eyes meet, “Do you need me to go get you anything?” 

She hums as she thinks about it, her mind drifting to the delicious, but sadly alcohol-free, cocktail she’d had when they first arrived at the beach. It was frozen and sweet and exactly the kind of thing she was currently craving. 

“Maybe a drink?”

He smiles and leans down to kiss her before he stands up straight, “That overpriced juice they put in a blender and have the nerve to call a cocktail?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. 

She smiles and reaches out for his hand, squeezing it tightly, “You’re the best baby daddy.” 

He rolls his eyes lovingly as she lets go of his hand, “Don’t call me that, I’m your husband.” 

She chuckles as he walks away, her enjoyment at winding him up never dulling even for a second. She lays there, eyes closed as she idly thinks about how they’ll need to top up their sunscreen soon, when she senses a shadow loom over her, blocking the sun. 

“That didn’t take long…” she trails off as she opens her eyes and sees a man who definitely isn’t her husband standing over her, a smile on his face. He’s tall and blonde, and his smile lets her know he’s far too sure of himself. She sits up a little, her band against her bump protectively as she does so, “Can I help you?” 

He sits down on Aaron’s sun lounger, clearly not picking up on her immediate defensiveness, “Hi, I’m Dan.” 

She presses her lips into a firm line, “Hi Dan. Can I help you?” 

He smirks and she raises an eyebrow at him, “You can start by telling me your name.” 

It’s one of the rare occasions when she’s grateful for how she was raised, how she can control her facial expressions, how she can stop herself from scrunching her nose up in disgust at this man who was flirting with her. Not only was she visibly pregnant, but she and Aaron hadn’t exactly been shy in their affection for each other since they’d arrived at the beach a few hours ago. They rarely had the opportunity to be this affectionate with each other outside of their home, both of them so intensely private that they wanted to keep them for themselves. Largely out of view from their friends who still found their relationship fascinating even after all this time. 

Here it didn’t matter. No one knew them. They were just a couple on the beach like so many other people, taking the opportunity to seek out the sun in winter. 

She forces a polite smile on her face, “Look, Dan. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I’m really not interested.” 

His smile doesn’t falter his he runs his hands through his hair “Come on, I’m sure you’d have a lot more fun with me than with Mr Serious who you’re here with.” 

Her polite smile fades, and she glares at him, her shackles rising at the way he was, admittedly gently, making fun of her husband. She liked to point out how serious Aaron was sometimes, softly smiling at him when he was particularly stern, but he was her person to make fun of, no one else’s - something that Derek and Dave had come up against more than once. 

They still brought up the time she’d locked them in a supply closet for joking that Aaron needed to lighten up after a prank gone wrong.

“Firstly, that man is my husband,” she says, raising her left hand so he can see her rings, her bump clearly not enough for this man to leave her alone, “Secondly, he’s an FBI agent. We both are actually.” 

She watches as Dan’s eyes go slightly wide, his smile slipping away slightly, but before she can say anything else they are interrupted.

“Thirdly, he’s standing right here.” 

She turns to see Aaron standing just a few feet away from them, his glare nowhere near diminished by the fact he has a brightly coloured cocktail in each hand, the tiny umbrellas sticking out of them almost shrinking under his sternness. She can tell by his expression that he’d heard more than she would have wanted him to, a flicker of hurt in his eyes that makes her even more irritated at the man who had decided to interrupt their afternoon. 

Dan stands up, all of his confidence gone as he clears his throat, muttering an apology under his breath as he stalks away without looking back. 

Emily looks at Aaron again and watches carefully as he stands frozen in place. She gives him a second to move and when he doesn’t, she gently prompts him, “Please tell me one of those drinks is for me?” 

He looks at her and nods, smiling tightly as he passes her the drink intended for her, “I decided to get one too,” he says, sitting down on his sun lounger, his eyes drifting back to where Dan had wandered off, “Although mine has tequila in it.” 

She groans, enjoying a taste of the frozen drink as she smiles at him, “Lucky,” she blows out a breath, desperate to relieve some of the tension, “It’s good you arrived when you did, he really didn’t take a hint,” she has another sip of her drink, “Who hits on someone who is not only visibly quite pregnant, but also obviously here with someone?”

He smiles tightly at the incredulous tone of her voice as he looks back at her, “What did I tell you, sweetheart,” he says softly, “You’re beautiful.” 

Despite the compliment, she can see the sadness still lingering in his eyes, and she has half a mind to find Dan on the beach and give him a piece of her mind.

___

Despite his attempt to hide it from her, he’s grumpy for the rest of the day. 

Not with her, never with her. He’s soft and kind and loving as he always his, his hand on her lower back as he guides her into the hotel’s restaurant, his smile soft as he pulls her chair out for her. 

He’s grumpy with everyone else. An edge to every look he throws to anyone who interacts with her, a tone in his voice when the waiter who has served them the last couple of nights brings the drink she always orders without asking. 

She lets it go, deciding not to mention it until they get back to their suite. Her final straw is when she shows him a picture of the boys playing in the snow in Jessica’s yard on her phone and it fails to lift his mood. Emily sighs as she sits next to him on the couch, her hand on his thigh as she squeezes it.

“Okay, honey. Talk to me,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him when he frowns, turning to look at her with confusion in his eyes. “Look, I’m usually happy to let you wallow as long as you need to, but we’re only here for another couple of days and I’d like to enjoy the rest of our time here without you glaring at anyone who interacts with me.” 

Aaron sighs and he closes his eyes, shaking his head at himself as he gives himself a second. He places his hand on hers on his leg and links their fingers together. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, opening his eyes and looking at her, guilt licking at his insides at the concern that was shining in her eyes, “I just can’t stop thinking about the guy on the beach.” 

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes and she actively ignores how she feels her cheeks start to heat up. They were both prone to jealousy from time to time, and she knew she wasn’t completely innocent, but it feels even more ridiculous than usual. 

“Aaron,” she says softly, cupping his cheek and making him look at her, her thumb tracing back and forth on his sun-kissed skin, “You have nothing to be jealous of,” she says, “Nothing at all. Your third kid is currently using my organs as punching bags,” she smiles at him, “I think that should count for something.” 

He turns his face and kisses her palm, “It’s not that I’m jealous,” he says, and she raises both brows at him, her disbelief painted across her face and it makes him choke out a laugh, “Okay, it’s not only that. I…it’s just you could do so much better than me. That’s all.” 

It was something he’d grappled with since they got together. Emily was everything. She was beautiful, smart, kind and for a reason he’d never quite been able to figure out - completely in love with him. It wasn’t that he doubted, not for a second, but he didn’t understand why. 

She could do better than him, and everyone knew it. 

She frowns, choking on a disbelieving laugh as she shakes her head at him, “Honey, that’s not true.” 

“That guy was right. I’m too serious, even when I don’t mean to be. We were on the beach on vacation and a stranger was still able to pick up on it.”

Emily stares at him and she leans forward, resting her forehead against his, “I love that you’re serious. I love that the boys are too,” she pulls back to look at him and she moves their joint hands to her bump, “I hope she’s serious too, something is going to have to be to counteract the fact she’s half me.” 

He huffs out a laugh, “Em.”

“I mean it,” she says, stamping her lips against his, “I love you,” she kisses him again, firmer this time, smiling into it when she feels his hand shift to grab at her hip, “I’m all yours.” 

He groans, tightening his hold on her hip, “All mine.” 

“All yours,” she whispers, kissing him again, licking her tongue over the seam of his lips, sighing contentedly when he gives her access, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss. They lose themselves in each other, hands drifting under clothes, grasping at familiar skin. She pulls back breathlessly, her teeth digging into his lower lip as she pulls at it gently. She smirks as she puts some space between them. She stands up, her smile turning soft as he immediately stands with her, his hands on her hips as he guides her up. She links a hand through his and tugs him towards the bedroom. “Come with me.”

He kisses her as they walk, paying close attention to her throat, his hands drifting down her sides as they go, “So beautiful,” he says, any insecurities seemingly gone for now as he grasps at her skin through the floating material of her dress, “All mine.” 

She turns in his arms when they reach the foot of the bed and she kisses him fiercely. Her hand drifts down his abdomen, and she smiles when she palms him through his pants, tasting his groan as he subconsciously thrusts towards her, half hard and already straining. 

She pulls back to look at him, gazing up at him through her long lashes, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she unbuckles his belt, “Usually I’d get down on my knees for you,” she says, stamping her lips against hers, her bump pressed between them, “But I think I’d never get back up,” she lets his belt fall open and then unzips his pants, stepping backwards to sit on the edge of the bed, her face level with him as she pushes his pants and boxers down past his hips, “So this will have to do.” 

Aaron grunts as she wraps her hand around him, pumping him up and down a few times, her thumb spreading a bead of pre-cum over the tip of him, “Em-”

Anything else he was going to say is cut off as she leans forward, taking him into her mouth. He grunts, his hands automatically finding her hair and threading his fingers through it, thrusting slightly against her face. 

“Jesus, baby,” he says, closing his eyes as she swallows around him, her nose against his pubic bone before she pulls back, sucking in a breath as she looks up. Her eyes are shining and a trail of spit is connecting her lower lip to the tip of him, and she’s never looked so beautiful, so his, “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

She smiles and sucks in another breath, leaning in again and taking him back down her throat. She bobs her head up and down, using her hands to pump him in tandem, as familiar with his body as he was with hers. His grunts and grip on her hair spurs her on, his words strained as they fill the air around them. 

“Em. Fuck. Mine.”

She can feel him start to lose control, his grip on her tighter, his thrusts stronger. He pulls back from her, leaning down to kiss her, smirking at the disappointment he tastes on her tongue, only partially masked by the taste of himself. 

“I was having fun,” she grumbles breathlessly, and he chuckles, kissing her again before he pulls back, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Take off your clothes,” he demands, and she nods, shedding herself of her dress and underwear as quickly as she can, watching him as he gets rid of his pants entirely. When he's done he looks at her, barely suppressing a growl at the sight of her. She was gorgeous, her eyes wide and hazy with arousal as she stares back at him, her stomach rounded with their child, her breasts bigger than they usually were, “Turn around.” 

She smiles, the wave of arousal that floods through her at the instruction making her shiver as she does as he’s told her to. She turns and rests on her hands and knees, one of her hands briefly on her stomach as she tries to get comfortable, desperate to ease some of the pressure on her back. Before she can think about it any further Aaron is there, a pillow that he’s somehow grabbed from the top of the bed in his hands as he slides it underneath her, allowing it to take the weight of her belly. He kisses her cheek, the action tender, soft. Intimate in a way she’d never experienced with anyone other than him. She turns her head to kiss him, capturing his lips against hers, and she smiles softly when he pulls back. 

“You okay?” He asks, voice rough with want as he controls himself for a moment, her comfort always his priority, and she nods, stamping her lips against his for a moment. 

“Yes,” she replies, “Please, Aaron. I need you.” 

He kisses her, fiercer this time as the brief moment of tenderness disappears, and then he’s gone, his warmth shifting from her side to behind her. She grasps the sheets in her fists as she waits, the anticipation making her blood fizz under her skin. She almost screams when he licks through her from behind, her fists impossibly tighter around the sheets as her head falls forward. 

“Fuck, Aaron,” she says, her hips twitching as he pulls back, a chuckle pressed against her lower back as he kisses it. 

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he says, lining himself up with her, trailing his tip through her teasingly, “And I’ve barely touched you.” 

“Please,” she repeats, on edge already, her heightened hormones making her usual desire for him almost ridiculous, her body almost shaking with it. 

When he pushes forward they both moan, the familar stretch of him enough to make them both pause, taking a desperately needed moment to try and gain back some control. He presses his body against hers, his chest draped over her back and his hands over hers, his fingers locking with hers on the mattress.

“You feel so good, Em,” he mutters, his forehead against the top of her head, “Like you were made for me.” 

She grunts, clenching around him as he stays maddeningly still, every nerve in her body poised to catch fire as she tries to encourage him to move. She tilts her head upwards, his forehead now against hers, his harsh breath skipping across her face, and she smiles at him. 

“Show me,” she says, pushing her hips back into his, “Show me how I’m all yours.”

It works just like she knew it would, pushing him to start moving his hips against hers, any teasing forgotten as he does exactly what she’d asked of him. It’s hard and fast and everything she wanted, driving her embarrassingly close to the edge already. 

“You’re mine,” he grunts, his skin slapping against hers as he continues to push his hips into her. He moves one of his hands between them, circling her clit, smirking against her as she gets impossibly tighter around him, her hips stuttering as she gets closer, “Come for me sweetheart,” he mutters, his touch getting firmer, “Cum for me and then I’ll fill you with even more of me.” 

His words, combined with his palm on her belly, tip her over the edge. She comes with a scream, something she tries and fails to muffle as she collapses forward her arms giving out from under her as she presses her face into the bedding. 

He comes seconds later, both of them groaning as he does so, and he slows his hips against hers, dropping a kiss to her temple as he tries to catch his breath. He stays there, still leaning over her for a second before he kisses her cheek, then her jaw, before he pulls back. 

“Wait there a second,” he says, walking towards the ensuite bathroom. 

He makes quick work of cleaning himself off and then reaching for a fresh towel before he walks back into the bedroom. He smiles to himself when he sees she’s still lying exactly as he left her, and he sits next to her on the bed, his smile turning into a smirk when she jumps slightly as he cleans her off, a smugness to his expression that has her rolling her eyes as she turns to look at him. 

“You okay?” He asks again, throwing the towel across the room before he lays down next to her, helping her adjust the pillow so she can lay on her side and he can curl up behind her. 

She hums and nods, tilting her head to kiss him, “I’m perfect,” she says, kissing him again, “So are you.” 

Aaron shakes his head lovingly at her and places his hand on her bump, smiling against his wife’s cheek as he feels the baby moving, “She’s kicking a lot.”

Emily smiles as he looks at him over her shoulder, placing her hand over his on her stomach, “She always moves like crazy after you make me cu-”

“Em, please,” he says, cutting her off, his eyes wide, “You know how I feel when you say that.” 

She giggles, capturing his lips in a kiss, “This is the second time I’ve been pregnant,” she says, squeezing her hand in his, “When will this stop freaking you out?” 

He kisses her, content to have her in his arms, pressed up against her like this. Any concerns he’d had earlier, that he knew would return again, as they always did, were gone. Vanquished because of her, his balm for any worries like she always would be. 

“I guess we’ll just have to keep going until we find out.” 

She smiles as she kisses him, and they forget about everything other than each other. 

-x-

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