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the-queen-and-the-king · 1 day ago

Text

Pause

Summary: JJ enters the new BAU boss' office to offer her to take a coffee and discovers that she's not especially happy. This leads to a strange conversation about the one who were their boss before - and now Emily's husband - Aaron Hotchner.

Characters: JJ, Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner

Contents: this fic will talk about one of my major hc about Hotch: he's asexual. So it'll talk about asexuality and part of its spectrum. There's mention of non-consensual intercourse and Emily is on edge, so it's a bit angsty (but with a happy (spicy) ending. NSFW/Minors DNI

This text was supposed to be part of a series of very short fic (less than 1000 words, but it's too long). I wrote it for Pride month.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

When JJ entered Emily’s office, now director of the BAU, she immediately froze, paralyzed by the oppressive atmosphere of the place. Her colleague was staring at her screen with an evil look on her face and tapping angrily on the keys of her keyboard, as if she had a personal grudge against it. She dared to move forward when her dark irises swiveled in her direction.

“Why the long face?” she inquired, moving closer.

“Nothing,” growled the agency head, who had absolutely no desire to talk about the problem that was gnawing at her insides.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Already have taken it.”

“Okay,” puffed the former liaison officer as she sat down. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Without saying a word, JJ scrutinized her intensely, a sneer at the corner of her lips. Emily tried to ignore her, but it was impossible. One, she was too close to her to act as if nothing had happened. And two, she had the feeling that if she didn't talk, she was going to explode. She sighed and threw:

“It’s Aaron.”

“Is he okay?” worried the woman who had been his assistant for several years.

“Oh, him, yes,” she affirmed rising her eyebrows. “It’s another story for me.”

“Why?”

She hesitated. When she and her partner had had this conversation on this particular subject, there had never been any question of anyone else knowing. Not that they were ashamed of who they were, it was more that they both thought it was private. At least, too intimate to be exposed to the insatiable curiosity of their friends. So, she had to explain her concern, without going into details.

“… Aaron has… phases during when he… he’s not in the mood.”

“Because he’s asexual, isn’t he?”

Emily turned her head so quickly towards her colleague that her neck protested.

“What?” croaked JJ at her bewildered expression. “I started asking about it when, after four years without touching a woman, he didn't start killing everyone around him. It's not well documented for men, but it does exist.”

That was what had tipped her off too. Aaron had more or less confirmed it to her, though without any certainty, as other elements could have interfered in the equation (his shattered marriage, Foyet, Haley's death). But he ticked too many boxes for the hypothesis to be completely dismissed.

“… Yes, that’s it.”

“And he’s part of demi or grey-sexual? People who only want to under certain conditions.”

“Yes,” she agreed, surprisingly relieved to be able to talk about it. “And now he's in that period where it doesn't mean anything to him at all.”

One-night stands, anonymous affairs and impromptu happy hours weren't for Aaron. He needed a real emotional connection with his partner to be aroused. And even with that, he did indeed go through periods where, while he accepted hugs and kisses, the idea of making love didn't interest him in any way. He was even repulsed by it.

“For how long?”

“It's been four weeks,” she lamented in frustration.

“How long does it usually last?”

“I don’t know, it’s random.”

They'd been a couple for five years now, and she'd already had to deal with the phenomenon several times. Up to now, it hadn't lasted more than two weeks. The irrational fear that this would go on indefinitely gripped her chest. Aaron was a fantastic lover and she wasn't sure she could survive giving up his talents – even if she genuinely loved him. Not now. Not when he was still fully able to… She grabbed the armrests to cease to think.

“You'll have to bring out the toys.”

“Already done and it's not enough for me anymore,” she snapped, on edge. “I need him. His smell, his skin, his hair, his shoulders, his hands, his waist…”

“Okay, I get it!” stopped JJ, who didn't want to know any more. “And there's no way to speed up the process of... getting back?”

“I promised to respect these moments of calm.”

When he'd told her that he'd forced himself for Haley more than once (“because social conventions demanded it”), she'd been overcome by a rush of rage. Against his ex-wife, who hadn't been able to read him, but also against him, because he'd had intimate relations when he had no desire for it. She'd made him swear not to do it with her again, even though he could see she really wanted to. And she'd assured him she'd give in if he refused her. At the time, she hadn't imagined what a torture it would be.

“I'll burn a candle for you.”

That evening, Emily returned home, exhausted. She heard Aaron's voice coming from the office. He was on the phone, probably with one member of his family. She went into the bedroom to change and then to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She was fine-tuning the raw vegetable salad when he came to find her. He took her in his arms, pressed against her back, and kissed her nape. The young woman's smile stretched her lips, banishing the fatigue of the day.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

“Good evening, mister,” she replied, enjoying the sudden closeness. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I miss you.”

Without adding anything more, he slipped his hand under the elastic of her pajama shorts, sneaked under the lace of her panties and reached between her thighs. Emily gasped as his fingers brushed her bud. He was hard against her ass.

“Where’s Jack?” she asked in a breath.

“At a friend's place.”

She turned around on the spot and kissed him fiercely, her arms wrapped around his neck. The next day, when JJ entered Emily's office to bring her coffee, the mood was undeniably different.

“So, still fallow?” she said, putting her mug down by the files before taking a seat on the chair.

“No. Not anymore,” answered joyfully the head agency.

“Ah. Aaron has come out of hibernation.”

“Yes. And he was very hungry.”

“I have a feeling that you two haven't slept much.”

“You have no idea…”

___

I hope this text won't offend any of you. If it does, know that I'm truly sorry about that because that was not my intention (and remember that English is not my mother language). ^^;

___

I'll be in holidays for a few days next week, so I may won't be able to post anything next friday. :p

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #smut #jj #asexuality #pride month

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the-queen-and-the-king · 8 days ago

Text

On-call duty and celebrations

Summary: Emily and Aaron are together for some months and the end of the year is approaching. Emily wonders how her companion is enjoying Christmas, a celebration she cares a lot for.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss and Jack Hotchner

Contents: talk about religions (Aaron is Jewish, even if he doesn't believe nor he practice), guilt, angst, family issues, mention of Haley's death, and food.

This text was written for the Hotchniss Holidays Event challenge organized by @fuckyeahhotchniss

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

November was drawing to a close, and with the arrival of December came the festive season. Emily, curled up against Aaron's chest in the bed they'd shared for several months, suddenly realized she didn't know how her partner organized himself for this part of the year dedicated largely to family gatherings. She knew he had many cousins, aunts and uncles and other close relatives scattered all over the U.S. – she'd even run into a few of them during investigations with the BAU where they'd lent their support to the team – but that didn't mean he enjoyed the festivities.

Halloween was no problem for him, but Thanksgiving was out of his schedule and his birthday was just another day for him. For her part, she had always dreamed of attending these grand dinners surrounded by her family and friends when she was a child, and she imagined she could make her fantasy come true now that she was in a relationship with the agency director. Provided these dates mean something to him.

“Aaron?”

“Hm?” he did without rising his eyes from the book he was reading.

“Do you celebrate Christmas?”

His gaze fell on her on the spot, surprised.

“What?”

“Are you celebrating Christmas?” she repeated before clarifying her thought. “I know you're Jewish, so you'll probably be celebrating Hanukkah with your loved ones...”

The giant was Jewish by descent – because his mother was – but he was neither religious nor observant. He didn't even know how to speak Hebrew, although he was able to understand it. However, as all the members of his family were and followed many of the rituals, he complied with certain traditions so as not to be left out.

“Yes, indeed,” he confirmed. “Probably not the full eight days, but at least two or three. If the criminals want to give me some time off.”

Which didn't happen very often, it was true.

“But since you're not religious and Jack isn't Jewish,” she continued, “do you still celebrate Christmas?”

Because Haley had been a Christian, the little boy had not been raised according to Judaic precepts, and in particular had avoided the circumcision his father had undergone as a baby. Nonetheless, he had been immersed in both religions since his earliest childhood, with the exception of the year his parents divorced and the months he spent in witness protection. For all she knew, he was nevertheless as atheistic as his father. But, in fact, the twenty-fourth of December may have had a greater significance for him than for Aaron.

“Well… uh… yes and no,” answered the latter, patently ill-at-ease.

“Yes and no?”

She gave him a quizzical look. What that’s supposed to mean? He sighed, closed his book which he placed on the bedside table and took a breath before turning to her.

“In fact, with Jack, we're actually following some of the Christmas traditions. The tree, the apartment decorations, the Advent calendar, the cookies,” he unrolled before going on, “but he's really celebrating Christmas with Jessica and his maternal grandparents.”

“And you?”

“I’ll just drop him off and be on my way. I pick him up again a few days later.”

She frowned, puzzled.

“Where do you go?”

“Here,” he said in a tone of obviousness. “I’m on-call duty.”

Quantico, as the FBI headquarters, never closed. There were always on call agents, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And the holidays, whatever they were, didn't change a thing. Part of her wasn't surprised to learn that he volunteered to provide this constant presence. And, at the same time, given the number of times she'd heard him worry about how little time he was spending with his son, she couldn't believe he was knowingly passing up such an opportunity to be with him.

“Aren't you staying with Jack to celebrate Christmas with him?”

“No,” he replied without a hesitation.

“W… why? He'd probably like you to be there.”

“Maybe, but… I can’t.”

“Why?” she insisted.

She had to understand this mystery because, she was convinced, there was a reason behind this refusal. Aaron was a complex man, who'd had a complicated childhood that had left deep scars, and who hadn't been spared hardship in the last three years. All his behavior had been shaped around these traumas, which he took great care not to talk about. She was surely the only one he was willing to confide in, though not without some misgivings. Not because he didn't trust her, but because he hated nothing less than being in the spotlight.

He avoided her gaze and bit his lower lip, before taking a long breath.

“Roy – his grandfather – never appreciated me,” he began. “When Haley and I were still married, I went with her because it was the right thing to do, but it was already an unpleasant moment for me.”

Her lover did many things under the constraint of societal codes, even though this put him in more than uncomfortable positions. Since she'd become aware of it, she'd made him promise not to force himself on her. Obviously, he hadn't discussed the subject with the one who had been his wife for ten years. He went on:

“As soon as Haley was no longer around, he allowed himself some rather clear reflections on his thoughts about me. After our divorce, he stopped pretending, even in the presence of his daughter.”

She'd had a glimpse of Haley's father's morgue the day Haley had died, when Aaron had been keen to answer questions from his ex-in-laws. That day, she had blamed his attitude on pain, but she had to believe that the grievance between them was older.

“And... since her death, it's... I'll leave you to imagine.”

She could well imagine the recriminations the old man might have had, to which his partner would say nothing.

“And Jess and…?”

“Helen,” he continued naturally. “There's nothing to worry about with Jess and Helen is very nice, but I can't spoil everyone's holiday by imposing my presence when it's not wanted.”

She understood better why he was running away from this family reunion with which he had, in reality, no real connection; except for the guilt of having indirectly amputated one of its members. However, she couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness for the toddler.

“Does Jack know?”

“Of course not,” he revealed shaking his head. “He’s seven, it’s none of his concern.”

“And don't you think he wonders why his father doesn't celebrate Christmas with him?”

“Yes. He already did.”

“And what did you say?”

“That…” – he cleared his throat – “… that Quantico needed staff to work those evenings. And… since I'm not supposed to be celebrating Christmas, I... I have to be there.”

A half-truth of which he was undoubtedly not very proud. She gave him a reproving glance.

“What do you want me to do?” he snarled. “That I ruin everyone's festivities by being insulted for two days?”

“No. Of course not,” she assured in return. “It's just that... Jack would probably love to spend this time with you.”

She was aware of the intractability of the problem but couldn't bring herself to ignore the boy's probable disappointment.

“And I'd love to, too,” he affirmed, sincerely. “But since I killed his mother, it's complicated for me to be around that part of his family.”

He had made this assertion with such aplomb that Emily was flabbergasted. For him, there was no doubt about it. This nagging guilt was nothing new, alas, for the female profiler, but she had thought it had subsided since then. It seems that the prospect of the festive season made it stand out even more. And she didn’t like that at all.

“You didn't kill Haley,” she reminded him firmly.

“I didn't pull the trigger,” he conceded, “but if I hadn't provoked Foyet, she'd still be alive.”

“You don't know that, Aaron,” she hammered, as the tone rose between them. “What is certain, on the other hand, is that the real culprit is Foyet. Not you.”

“Curiously, Roy doesn't think so. Probably because if I hadn't decided to become an FBI agent, none of this would have happened.”

So, the reproaches dated back to the previous century – literally, the ex-prosecutor having left office in nineteen ninety-seven. The question was still whether they came from Roy, Haley or himself; the giant being a master of self-flagellation. But now was not the time to ask. He needed to hear that he shouldn't feel responsible for this disaster. He had done everything in his power to prevent the worst, but the serial killer had thwarted the BAU’s plans.

“Avec des si, on mettrait Paris en bouteille.”

“What?” he frowned on the spot.

Her companion spoke only one language: English. She had deliberately used the language of Molière – because the proverb came from that country, but, above all – to attract his attention and unsettle him enough for her to have time to argue.

“It's a French expression that emphasizes the fact that, with assumptions, we can push our reasoning very far. To the point of absurdity,” she explained, before bouncing back. “There's no guarantee that if you'd stayed on as a prosecutor, she'd still be with us. Maybe you would have divorced her too, and maybe she would have been in a car accident. We don’t know and we will never know, Aaron. What we do know, contrariwise, is that Foyet pulled the trigger. Period.”

He had listened to her from beginning to end without saying a word and without taking his eyes off her. His face had remained neutral throughout and was still closed now that she'd finished. Did it work? Was he finally accepting the idea that he could be as innocent on the subject? His brown irises swiveled in front of him.

“… In any case, I've already told management that I'll be there on December 24th and 25th.”

The debate was over. No matter what he thought of his lover's plea, he didn't want to talk about it anymore. Emily felt there was still room for discuss, but since this was the first time they'd raised their voices so much – against each other – since they'd been together, she abdicated. She hesitated to move away from him to give him space but changed her mind. She didn't want him to think she disapproved of his behavior and feel rejected. She didn't agree with him, of course, but she knew why he had such reasoning. And she wasn't about to let him face his demons alone.

“By the way, why did you want to know that?” he resumed, calmer. “Your mother invited us?”

The very idea made her break out in a cold sweat.

“Well, no. And even if she did, I'd find a good excuse to decline her offer,” she objected without hesitation.

A discreet chuckle tugged at the corner of her companion's lips. He knew all about the tensions between Elizabeth Prentiss and her daughter – which went far beyond those hovering over his own relationship with Ada Hotchner. Different reasons directed them, but the result was the same: they tolerated the presence of their progenitor in small doses. That said, it didn't answer his question, and no doubt he wasn't going to let her go until the mystery was cleared up. This annoyed Emily, who had not, indeed, made this request at random. She just wanted to keep her objective a secret.

“It was just... to see if... if I could prepare a little something,” she stammered, dodging his piercing gaze.

“What would you like to prepare?” he continued logically.

“I don’t know. A little diner for both of us, as Jack won’t be there. For example.”

In fact, she had a very precise plan of what she wanted for the evening. Anticipating the fact that Christmas was not part of the titan's activities, she had set herself the task of making him appreciate this special evening of the year. Just as he had integrated her into his family customs.

“If… if you like,” he said, cheerlessly.

“If it bothers you, we can just sit in front of the TV or...”

“No, no, I don't mind,” he countered immediately. “I… I want to.”

What she'd thought was discomfort was actually surprise. Just as when she worked alongside him, she always found it difficult to analyze his reactions. Although more expressive than at the office, he was still a rather unexpansive person, who kept a lot to himself and avoided being the center of attention at all costs. Which made him an unreadable companion, even for a former profiler like herself.

“Okay. Great!” she rejoiced, reassured.

“I'll be in Quantico during the day, but I'll be back here in the evening,” he clarified so she could get organized.

“Fine.”

Soothed, she returned to snuggle up against him. The mood had clearly relaxed.

“Does your mother know about us?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed inquisitively.

“Wouldn't you rather have a chapter to finish?” she asked, pointing to his bedside book.

___

On December twenty-fourth, Aaron was just about to shut down his computer when a new message arrived in his mailbox. As a matter of conscience, he looked to see what it was all about, especially as an “urgent” symbol topped the title. It was a request from a counterpart on the West Coast, asking him to analyze elements of an ongoing investigation in order to validate his theory. For political reasons, he needed an answer by midnight. Which was in six hours for his correspondent, instead of three hours for him. He rose his head to see through the window, in case a miracle had occurred in the meantime, but the bullpen was still empty. He sighed and took his phone.

“Is everything all right?” worried Emily without even greeting him.

“Yes,” he reassured her first, before continuing, “it's just that... I've just received an urgent request for a case analysis. I can't refuse it, and I'll be at least three hours.”

Which would bring him home after Santa Claus.

“Oh. Okay,” answered her companion, disappointed. “I won't start cooking the gratin just yet, then.”

The line of humor wasn't enough to erase his guilt.

“I’m sorry. I do as fast as I can.”

“Don't worry,” she urged him in a calm tone. “Do what you have to do, it's not going to fly away, and I assure you I wouldn't eat it all by myself.”

After the failure of his marriage, he had realized that it was essential for him to slow down if he wanted to build something with someone again. Admittedly, Emily was more aware than Haley of the importance of his work, but that didn't give him the right to abuse her benevolence. Especially that night that was so particular for her. He could see from watching her interact with Jack that she loved this time of year and hoped to drag him along in her wake. It was his duty not to spoil all her fun.

“I call when I leave.”

“Fine. Good luck,” she added cheerfully.

“Thank you. And sorry again.”

“I love you.”

He hung up with a smile and immediately set to work. He didn't have a moment to lose if he didn't want to arrive too late. To avoid being disturbed, he switched off his mailbox after retrieving what he needed and put his phone on “airplane” mode. A thick silence accompanied him throughout his reflection when, about an hour later, there was a knock at the door. He knew he wasn't alone in the building but widened his eyelids when he discovered who was on the threshold of his lair.

“Emily?”

“Surprise!” she exclaimed spreading her arms.

Her cheeks flushed with cold, she still wore her long coat, and her hair tied back in a ponytail. Apart from the bag slung over her shoulder, she didn't seem to have brought anything with her.

“What… what are you doing there?” he interrogated her, confused.

She then left the doorway, walked towards him, circled the desk and came to rest her lips against his. Now that they weren't working together, she didn't mind being caught on surveillance cameras.

“I figured there was also a table at Quantico where we could share our meal as lovers,” she explained, all proud.

“But there's no oven,” he pointed out, as he remembered the planned menu.

“Don’t worry, I handled it.”

“Do you need some help?”

“No. You can carry on working; I'll come and get you when everything's ready.”

“O… Okay,” he nodded, unsettled.

She kissed him again, then left the room, winking at him. Aaron watched her walk away, a smile on his face, before plunging back into his analysis, more serene. Now that his partner was here, he didn't have to worry about the clock ticking. She'd come and pull him out of his paperwork when the time came, and he could give himself an hour or two's break without it interfering with the deadline he still had to meet.

An hour later, Emily reappeared at the entrance to his den. She was swathed in a burgundy-red sweater dress, with sleeves that flared out from the elbow and stopped just short of the knees. She wore black tights that curved her legs, which were shoved into heeled ankle boots in a shade similar to her outfit. She had freed her dark hair and perfected her make-up. She was gorgeous.

“Is it ready?” he inquired, admiringly.

“Yes. If you want to come, you’re the only one missing.”

He smiled, locked his computer session and stood up. He had nothing more on him than his work suit, but it would do for the occasion. Slipping his hand into his partner's, they made their way to the meeting room. As well as the tree, which Penelope had insisted on putting up and decorating, there were also strings of lights and multicolored baubles on the ceiling, appetizing dishes on the table, plates of hors d'oeuvres and chocolate-covered cookies and, above all, there was...

“Merry Christmas, Dad!” exclaimed the little boy, popping up under his nose.

The toddler had donned a sweater on which his paternal grandmother had embroidered a T-rex eating snowflakes.

“J… Jack?” he stammered before turning to Emily. “But… Wasn't Jess supposed to pick him up?”

At least, that was what had been agreed three days earlier, and his ex-sister-in-law hadn't come back to him since.

“Yes,” confirmed her lover, “but she called to tell us that Roy had the flu, and that Helen didn't want anyone to get it.”

And Helen had had to wait until the last minute, crossing her fingers that her husband's condition would improve enough for her to see her grandson. His heart sank as he imagined the disappointment she must be feeling right now, even though this decision was surely the right one.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Aren't you glad I'm here?” chained his offspring, pained by his reaction.

“Yes! Yes, I am, a lot. It’s a great surprise,” he confessed, sincere. “Merry Christmas to you too, champ.”

He knelt down to take him in his arms and placed a kiss on his temple. He was truly happy to be able to celebrate that evening with him, now that he was old enough to really enjoy his gifts. The last time he had been with him on this date, the boy had been more interested in the paper and ribbon than the toys they contained. Since then, he had lived the event vicariously through the stories of Jessica and his son himself.

He stood up and met Emily's mischievous gaze. She was delighted to see the joy on his face.

“Thank you,” he said, moved.

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, my love.”

Affectionate little names were still a new activity for them, who had been used to calling each other by name for five years. He smiled and exchanged a kiss with her, a little deeper than the previous ones.

“And you prepared all this together?” he investigated, pointing to the pyramids of clearly homemade food.

“Yes!” Jack shouted happily. “And we didn’t even eat all the cookies!”

“Just one or two,” tempered the young woman. “To taste them.”

“And they were good?” he went on, amused.

“Yes! When are we going to eat?” asked the toddler, ready to climb onto his chair.

“Sounds like someone's in a hurry to get to dessert,” Emily quipped.

“And what’s after overall.”

With his chin, he pointed to the packages that had been stacked under the tree. They laughed and settled down in front of their plates. Aaron found himself at the end of the table, seated between the woman he loved and his son. They enjoyed their meal until midnight. Jack was the first to leap to his feet, rushing to the largest packed boxes that could only be his. His former subordinate narrowly saved a smaller wrapper from the childish frenzy. She gave it to him with a shy smile. It wasn't the first time they'd treated themselves, since their respective birthdays had taken place two months earlier; but this was their first Christmas together. So, the moment had to be something special.

“Is it for me?” he replied, stupidly.

“What do you think?” she reacted, with a sneer.

“Okay. Wait.”

He placed his surprise back on the table and left the room to return to his office. He had not come empty-handed either. He retrieved what interested him, walked back the way he'd come, then offered his own present to his companion.

“Is it for me?” she repeated, curious.

“What do you think?”

They laughed, touched nonetheless by each other's attention, and decided to unwrap their partner's purchase. In the long box, which could have held a pen, he discovered a silver bracelet on which his first name had been engraved.

“Look behind,” encouraged Emily, leaning over his shoulder.

He obeyed and saw an inscription saying, “I love you. E.”

“So, you won’t forget.”

A soft warmth spread through his veins. It was a very simple gift, but one that went straight to his heart. She knew how hard it was for him to believe that people could become attached to him – between his chaotic childhood and his disastrous marriage, it wasn't a thought that came naturally to him – so reading those words inscribed in hardness, forever, moved him. He smiled and looked into his lover's eyes. She had removed the paper from around her property but had not yet opened it.

Inwardly, he crossed his fingers that this would please her. It probably wouldn't be as valuable – psychologically speaking – as what she'd offered him, but he hoped to please her all the same. He owed her so much that he was never sure whether his actions could balance the scales between them. All his doubts vanished, however, when he caught sight of the delighted smile and sparkling eyes of this beautiful woman who had agreed to link her life to his for several months already. Between her fingers had been revealed a jewelry set – with necklace, earrings and bracelet – that she had spotted in a shop during a window-shopping session. She had remained in awe of the goldsmith's work, before finally giving it up to spend her pennies more wisely.

She raised her head in his direction et put her hand on his cheek.

“I love you too.”

They kissed tenderly, hand in hand.

“Hey!” cried Jack jumping beside them. “Look what I had!”

“Oh, my!” he feigned surprise as he recognized the toy. “A Batman action figure.”

Emily burst out laughing, he did too, and the boy followed them in their hilarity. Once decked out in their new finery, they helped the youngster open his last packages while nibbling on a few cakes. He nonetheless left them to complete his analysis while they tidied up the mess created by this impromptu dinner. Then, some times later, the three of them set off again, arms full, to return to their cozy nest.

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #jack hotchner #holidays #christmas #hotchniss holidays event

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the-queen-and-the-king · 15 days ago

Text

So many treats...

Summary: Spring is here in Virginia and Aaron has received chocolates as a gift to thank him for an investigation. In the mean time, Emily has received a bouquet of flowers. Presents that catch the federal agents attention.

Characters: BAU team

Contents: chocolate, flowers, jealousy, light angst, mention of cheating, self-esteem issues, but mostly idiots in love. :D

This text was written for the Hotchniss Spring Awakening challenge organized by @fuckyeahhotchniss

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

In the northern hemisphere, the arrival of spring often heralded many positive things. The days were getting longer, temperatures were rising, buds were appearing – promising colorful flowers and juicy fruit – and wildlife was awakening from its winter torpor. It was also the signal for many animals that the time had come for them to ensure the future of their species. To achieve this, the males adorned themselves in their finest finery, built shelters for their future litters and redoubled their efforts to attract the favors of the females, who in turn carefully selected their next partners.

A period full of effervescence, then, which must surely have given this inspiration to a young woman working in the US state of Virginia. A young woman lamenting the helplessness of watching a show that has been stalled for far too long. Things were so obvious to her that it was hard to imagine that the main people involved hadn't realized anything. They were smart – probably smarter than she was – they knew how to analyze each other's behavior and there was an undeniable complicity between them, and yet their relationship hadn't evolved one inch.

Using her knowledge of her friends, she had perfected a plan that she believed would inevitably lead them to reveal what they were so determined to hide. So it was that she knocked on her superior's door on that Monday in March.

“Knock, knock!”

The director raised his eyes from his screen and a discreet smile stretched his lips.

“Come in, JJ.”

“Hello, Hotch,” she greeted him joyfully. “Did you notice the bouquet of flowers Emily just received?”

“What?”

His bliss disappeared in half a second and he immediately left his chair to look out of his office window. The liaison officer restrained her urge to express her contentment. The giant reacted exactly as she had expected.

“Who sent it?” he asked then, turning to her.

This unexpected present upset him more than he should have, but his instinct overrode his usual self-control at this hour.

“According to the card, that would be Mick Rawson,” replied the mother, before advising a package that made her frown. “Is that a box of chocolate?”

Next to the perfectly stable stack of files on the branch manager's desk was a bright red square object a few centimeters thick, closed with a black fabric ribbon in which an annotated card had been slipped.

“What? Uh… Yes,” Hotch stammered, remembering what had been delivered to him a few hours earlier. “Agent Davis sent them to me.”

His gaze had once again swiveled towards the bullpen stretching out before him, and more precisely towards Agent Prentiss' workspace. A beautiful arrangement of flowers sat beside her keyboard, seemingly feeding the conversation between Spencer and its recipient. The smile that adorned her beautiful face twisted his insides. He had noticed the attraction this Rawson had for his subordinate, but he hadn't imagined that their relationship could have progressed to this point.

“Why?” JJ went on, intrigued.

“In gratitude for the help with the last case,” he explained, still distracted by what was going on below. “Do you know if he's ever given her any other flowers?”

“I don’t know. Just ask her,” she retorted with a mocking sneer.

Her plan was reaching that pivotal moment when she would have to play finely to get him to break out of his usual stoicism and finally dare to cross the limits he imposed on himself on a daily basis.

“I thought you told each other everything,” he reacted, turning back to her.

“Emily can be very secretive sometimes.”

However, this impromptu gift disrupted her organization. She hadn't expected another woman to join the party. She had a clear picture of the federal agent in question, who had asked for the BAU’s support in tracking down a serial killer who had chosen her city to settle down and perpetrate his heinous crimes. Blonde, harmoniously built, she had that sweetness tinged with irony that made her so much like the woman who had shared the giant's life for twenty-five years. A worthy adversary, therefore, that she couldn't ignore.

“You've certainly made an impression on Agent Davis if she's offering you chocolates. Especially these,” she said, recognizing the emblem printed on the lid. “They’re expensive.”

“A simple e-mail would have sufficed,” shrugged the titan. “Do you know if they've exchanged since... since the investigation?”

“Who?” hiccupped JJ, returning to the present moment.

Her interlocutor's uninteresting reply had reassured her, allowing her to redirect all her attention to her initial project.

“Rawson and Emily.”

The fact that he used the name of one and the first name of the second made her smile. She wasn't a profiler, but she'd obviously hit the nail on the head.

“Maybe. Ask her if that bother you that much.”

“I can’t ask her that.”

“Why?”

“Because until now, I've always made sure to respect my men's privacy.”

“There’s a first for everything.”

He hesitated. A little voice in his head nagged him to leap out of that room, grab hold of that out-of-place present and throw it out the nearest window. On the other hand, his brain reminded him that he had a role to play, a code of conduct to respect, and that he couldn't possibly behave in this way. After all, there was no law against a man – other than himself – giving Prentiss flowers. His subordinate was free of any commitment, and she had every right to go with whomever she wished. And if it bothered him, he had no one to blame but himself. After all, he'd had a thousand opportunities to talk to her about his feelings and had never taken advantage of any of them.

Perhaps this was the right moment to make a move. It was surely too late, as the Englishman had qualities that he didn't possess and that appealed more to the female sex than his uptight, stone-cold side; but he could always go out and test the waters to find out what was really going on. What would it cost him? He didn't need to reveal what was on his mind. Not today. All he had to do was show a hint of curiosity. The other members of the team are much nosier, so his questions should go down without a hitch. At least, he hoped so.

So, he left his office, ran down the stairs to the open plan where his men were working, and made his way to Emily's location. She came back to him with a cup full of coffee in her hand. She looked happy and his insides twisted at the idea that this joy was the result of this fragrant gift.

“Nice bouquet,” he said, trying to hide his annoyance.

“What? Oh, hello, Hotch,” she stammered, her smile growing even wider. “Yes, it… it's a little cumbersome, but that's always nice.”

“Do you know who sent it to you?”

“Why do you want to know that?” she retorted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Simple... curiosity,” he defended himself, fighting the urge to run away. “But you’re right, it’s not my place to ask. I… I let your work.”

He turned his back on her as a deliveryman stepped through the glass double doors of the BAU, flowers in his arms. The giant saw them out of the corner of his eye and froze in his tracks.

“Agent Prentiss?” exclaimed the newcomer, his eyes fixed on his tablet.

“It's me,” replied the interested party, placing her mug beside her keyboard.

“This is for you.”

Emily retrieved the bouquet, somewhat unsettled. It wasn't her birthday and Valentine's Day had already passed. And she wasn't concerned with either Grandma's Day or Mother's Day. Where did all these gifts come from? It didn't make sense, and besides, it drew all the attention to herself. Indeed, all eyes were now on her workspace, including those of the branch manager. If the others seemed amused by the scene, she saw, without a doubt, the pain it inflicted on him. His eyes shone too brightly for him to remain indifferent.

“Well, I'm going to need a second desk,” she joked, embarrassed.

“Who sent you this?” he wanted to know; his face closed.

“Wait, I’ll check.”

She placed the flowers where she could beside the others, retrieved the card tucked inside and read the few words written on it. Her eyelids widened in surprise.

“It’s this good old Viper.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought that this lunatic hadn't forgotten her first name.

“He's not in jail?” grumbled Aaron, snapping.

Upon hearing the name, a burning liquid surged through his veins in a heartbeat. He'd had the hardest time not putting the guy in his place when he and the team had crossed paths, and he'd had to take it even harder when it was agreed that Prentiss – and Agent Jordan – would be the bait. He'd overheard their entire conversation and, like when she'd been held up at Cyrus's farm – but for totally different reasons – he’d controlled himself from going over there and violently kicking his ass.

“No. He wasn’t our unsub, remember.”

“He should have been locked up for complicity,” he grumbled, irritated.

“Is this what you'd have wanted?” smirked Emily.

While she was off getting ready to tease this so-called seduction expert, Hotch had come to talk to her to make sure she didn't mind this strategy. It wasn't the first time she'd been used in this way to draw out the suspicions of a suspect, or to coax out a reluctant witness or accomplice. It was all part of the job, as painful as it could be at times. Some would say that this was unfair and sexist, but the majority of male criminals were heterosexual, so this role rarely fell to the males on the team. She knew it, he knew it too. In fact, his open concern for her that day had touched her. She'd reassured him, but he obviously still had a grudge against the man.

“How do you like receiving gifts from him?” he continued, aggressively.

“It’s the first one I received, but…”

Another deliveryman arrived at that moment and interrupted them by hailing:

“Agent Hotchner?”

“That's me,” reported the giant, confused.

“There. Sign here.”

The manager applied himself and found himself with a rectangular package in his hands. Emily stepped closer, inquisitive.

“What is it?”

“Chocolates,” he supposed without much doubt.

“Again!” shouted a voice behind them.

JJ had emerged from her supervisor's office and watched the scene with a puzzled expression. She no longer understood what was going on here.

“What do you mean, again?” bounced her colleague, in a drier tone than expected.

“He has received chocolates from Agent Davis.”

“Why?” she went on, feeling her heartbeat quicken.

“To thank me for the help we gave her,” he admitted factually.

Since his divorce, many women had shown a keen interest in the colossus. But up until now, they'd been content with strong glances, or offering coffee for the braver ones; all of them cooled by their target's obvious indifference. It was the first time they'd dared to go so far as to offer him something, and Emily wasn’t at all happy about it.

“And who are these from?” she asked, pointing to the box as if it were covered in garbage.

“From... Agent Swanson,” he said after turning over the card stuck in the ribbon.

“Who's Agent Swanson?” inquired JJ, still baffled by the sequence of events.

“A woman who works at the headquarter.”

He had crossed paths with her several times, since she was the assistant to one of the big shots based in the heart of Washington DC. He could see what she looked like but couldn't understand the sudden interest. They had vaguely exchanged a few courtesies, and he had no recollection of having more than a formal discussion with her.

“And does she often send you chocolates?” continued Emily, restraining herself from snatching them out of his hands and tossing them in the garbage can.

“No, it’s the first time…. Wait a minute.”

“What?”

He had stopped in mid-sentence and was now deep in thought. Then he turned his gentle gaze on her and said:

“Don't you think it's strange, this sudden avalanche of gifts for... no good reason?”

Silence fell as the duo pondered the question. With one accord, they turned to the main team quintet, who were watching them with great interest. Spotted, they tried to scatter in the greatest disorder, but Hotch thundered:

“Come back here.”

They stood still, their gaze pivoting on their shoes.

“Prentiss, show me the cards.”

“Here.”

He looked at the two squares and all the clues clicked into place.

“... I'm not familiar with Rawson and Viper's handwriting, but this way of doing the ‘r’ is characteristic. JJ wrote this card. And the other… it’s Morgan.”

The other was the bouquet from Viper.

“Very classy, Derek,” harpooned Emily.

The ex-policeman tried to hide behind Spencer, uncomfortable.

“Let me guess for the rest,” resumed the head agency. “The expensive chocolates come from you, Dave, and the others – which come from your neighborhood – are from you, Garcia.”

“Could we know why?”

JJ sighed loudly, rising her eyes to the sky.

“Fine, yes, it’s us.”

“Why?” repeated Hotch.

“Because you drive us crazy! It’s been month…”

“Years,” corrected Morgan, jaded.

“… that you’re head over heels in love with each other, but none of you seems to notice it.”

“What?” croaked Prentiss.

She crossed her fingers that her make-up would conceal the blush on her cheeks.

“Emily, Hotch is in love with you,” declared Penelope without any discretion.

“Not at all!” denied instantly the titan.

“And you, Sir, Emily is in love with you.”

“No! Never in a million years!” the young woman puffed up, avoiding meeting her neighbor's gaze.

“Please, everyone's seen it except you,” JJ pointed out, suddenly authoritative. “I thought that with a little help, one of you could finally take the first step. But... obviously, I'm not the only one who had this idea.”

She glanced in the direction of her team-mates, who didn't even pretend to defend themselves. Only Spencer seemed to be swimming in a fog. He hadn't noticed, and so hadn't participated in the romp.

“I'm not in love with her/ him!” they exclaimed in unison.

“Obviously...” ironized Rossi, a mocking sneer playing at the corner of his lips.

“Okay, listen. This whole thing has gone on for far too long,” Penelope snapped, stepping out of line and heading their way. “Both of you will leave this office immediately. Go and sit on a terrace, in a café, anywhere with a table and chairs; and you put things straight.”

“I've got a meeting in twenty minutes,” Hotch objected after looking at his watch.

“I'll take care of it,” Derek countered confidently.

“See! Then, go! And don't come back until you've kissed!”

In less time than it takes to say “phew!”, they were shoved into the elevator and Morgan pressed the first-floor button without asking their opinion. The doors closed before they realized what was happening.

“Where… where are we going?” asked Emily after the logical silence of astonishment.

“Not far away, my wallet and car keys are in my office.”

The former hacker's proposal was a pleasant one, but without a vehicle or a transport card, they couldn't leave the Quantico area, which was pretty poor in cafés and other eateries. And, even if they could have reached downtown Washington DC, he couldn't see himself putting their drinks on the FBI’s account.

“Same,” affirmed the young woman. “We… we could go to the cafeteria.”

“Under the watchful eye of cameras and agents from other units? There's nowhere more romantic.”

Besides, it was the best way for Strauss to find out about their tête-à-tête, which was best avoided.

“Okay. So… we could go for a walk.”

“If you want. Which do you prefer: the training center, the amphitheater or the shooting range?”

Emily rose her eyes to the sky. She understood his reluctance to stroll the alleys of Quantico, in the limelight of all the federal agents. She hadn't imagined their first date like this either – she'd rather despaired of the day – but circumstances had meant that their secret had been revealed and they were now up against the wall. She, too, was afraid of how this face-to-face meeting would turn out – openly evoking her feelings of love was not in her nature – but here they had a golden opportunity to do so and, perhaps, begin their life together. This possibility made her heart race.

“First, let’s walk. We'll see where that takes us.”

Silently, they made their way along the site's tree-lined avenues. The weather was mild, and pale pink blossoms brightened the new growth of the locust trees. The bulbs planted by the gardeners were gradually revealing their treasure trove of green leaves and colorful petals. The less cautious bumblebees visited the earliest corollas, starting the long work of pollination. A blackbird sang not far from them, chirping happily to attract the attention of nearby females.

At this hour, the vast majority of employees were bent over their keyboards, so they were perfectly at peace. Aaron was the bravest of the two.

“You… you stay in touch with Rawson?”

“He tried,” answered Emily with a smile. “But… I quickly made him understand that I wasn’t interested.”

“Why? I thought girls love bad boys.”

It was a bit of a cliché, but not completely. At one time, she wouldn't have said no to the advances of the British officer whose glibness and nonchalant appearance suited her type of conquests. But that was a long time ago, and her tastes had evolved since then.

“To a certain point, yes. Then there are other, far more important criteria to consider.”

“Like what?”

“Like being attentive, a good listener and... being composed, too.”

He raised his eyebrows, doubtful. This profile – perfect on paper – seemed to him to be utterly boring. It matched who he was – or, at least, who he thought he was – and it clearly hadn't been enough for Haley. Not content with having slept with someone else, she had then thrown him out of the house. So, in his opinion, he ticked all the boxes of the uninteresting partner to be shunned like the plague.

“And it’s enough to compensate the British accent?”

Emily sighed and stopped to catch his arm. She knew what he had in his mind. His divorce had shattered his image as the ideal son-in-law and shaken all his certainties about his potential assets. She finally got that if he hadn't mentioned his feelings for her, it was simply because he was light years away from thinking he could interest her. So, she had to put her cards on the table now.

“… Hotch, if… if I pushed Rawson away, it's because...” - her heart missed a beat – “because they're right.”

“Meaning?”

“I… I feel an attraction for you. You… I like you.”

“Why?”

The retort had been so natural that it left her speechless at first, before a flush of anger rose up inside her. A sudden urge to slap him crossed her skull. How could anyone be so clear-sighted about so many things, and yet so terribly stupid at the same time? Some might have argued that she wasn't really in a position of strength to make that kind of statement, except that she was aware of her charms. She knew she was attractive and, when she was in the mood, she took advantage of it. And she had been aware of her attraction to him; only she hadn't been able to read the tiny signs that had escaped the giant's control attesting to the reciprocity.

“What do you mean, why? I don’t know. That's just the way it is, you can't decide.”

“And you didn't say anything because you didn't want to create conflict within the team?” he analyzed warily.

“Yes. And also, because I… I didn’t know what you were feeling about me.”

He felt his cheeks ignite immediately. The T time was here. The one where he would have to expose what he had been stubbornly hiding for a very long time now. After what she'd just revealed to him, he should have been more confident than ever, yet his legs seemed ready to give way beneath him. He had the sensation of having gone back in time to the day Jessica had urged him to tell her sister the whole truth. He was eighteen again and felt like a weakling in a suit too big for him, on the verge of throwing himself over the precipice of life. When he was forty-five and had already married once.

“… Well… they may have been right too.”

“Is it true?” she couldn't help but retort, a smile reaching her ears.

“Yes. I… I can't explain it either, but what I feel for you is nothing like what I should feel for a colleague or a friend.”

“Oh,” she said before wondering aloud. “But… if we both have feelings for each other, why... why are we the last to catch it?”

“Because we are idiots.”

An assumption that didn't seem to bother him at all.

“… Or maybe we've been subconsciously hiding from each other because we both know it's against the rules,” she suggested instead, more comfortable with the possibility.

“Not if we're in two different units.”

“Really?” she hiccupped, taken aback.

She was totally unaware of this detail in the regulations.

“Yes. But it’d bother me a lot to stop working with you.”

Emily’s smile stretched. He'd said it in all sincerity, and she found it adorable. That said, she too would find it hard not to see him at the office every day. Her euphoria left her, however, when she realized that it was now time to make a decision.

“What are we doing now?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I wish… to try.”

It was the strangest way to ask someone out, but the whole situation was bathed in the unusual. Aaron didn’t think much of this formulation. This was another point that was bothering him.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Why wouldn't it work?” she bounced on the spot, pained by the possibility.

“I don’t know but, obviously, I’m not a great match.”

Emily’s shoulders slumped. She was right though. A little bitter against this woman who had done so much harm – involuntarily –, she replied:

“I'm not Haley, I'm aware of the demands and dilemmas of this job.”

“I’m a macho.”

This time, she glared at him squarely. She knew where this opinion came from and given the evolution of their relationship after that day, she highly doubted he still believed this assertion. Unlike JJ, who'd had to justify her thinking, Hotch hadn't asked her anything at all – a sign that he'd taken the information as an established, if completely erroneous, fact – but since then she'd done everything to make him understand that he wasn't so. And he was clever enough to catch it. That he would use this argument to justify their potential separation was absurd.

“Don’t push it. Why do you want so much for it to fail?”

“I don't want it to fail, on the contrary; but I'm not the sole decision-maker on this point.”

“So, let’s try.”

He lowered his eyes, shyer than ever. It might be surprising to see a big guy like him behaving like this, but he really had no confidence in his ability to please women. Not only had he not had much experience before crossing paths with Jack's mother; more importantly, he felt he hadn't ticked any boxes of the dream partner. When he saw on TV the profiles of the men selected to attract the public, he didn't find anything in common with them. And, more than his looks, it was often his behavior that didn’t fit. He was not funny nor relaxed nor sociable.

Yet Emily seemed determined to give him a chance and he couldn't pass that up. Kicking his lack-of-esteem ass, he proposed, not daring to stare at her:

“O… okay. Do… Would you like to start all over properly? By a dinner party with a real table and things to eat on it.”

“And wallets?” she bounced back, a grin at the corner of her lips.

“And wallets, yes.”

She smiled, butterflies twirling in her stomach.

“Yes, I do. When?”

“Tonight? No, wait,” he corrected himself on the spot, eyebrows furrowed. “I'll have to talk to Jessica first about keeping Jack. Is it okay if I discuss this with her first, and then suggest a date?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let’s do it that way then.”

They both smiled, their eyes plunged into each other's. He wanted to kiss her but restrained himself. It was probably too soon for that. Yes, it was best to wait until their tête-à-tête was over before venturing into this territory.

“We should go back,” he said, looking up to see how far they had to go to retrace their steps.

“Are you afraid Derek will mess up in a meeting?”

“Oh, no. He's doing very well and, what's more, the others love him,” he assured, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. “No, it's just that if Strauss finds out she's paying me to take a walk, she'll kick me out.”

“That would make it much harder for me to come to work.”

A brief burst of laughter lifted Aaron's ribcage and his subordinate's smile widened. It was very rare to see anything other than that scowl or neutral look on the agency director's face, and when his shell cracked to reveal that unsuspected softness, she immediately felt invigorated. Lightening the giant's load, if only for a few seconds, was a task she enjoyed doing every day. He was so handsome when he smiled. Even more than usual.

He subtly held out his hand and she agreed to take it right away. His skin was soft and his palm, gigantic next to hers, could have crushed her like nothing, but held her with an almost unreal lightness. She might have thought she was in a dream if the warmth emanating from him hadn't immediately enveloped her. He was there, by her side, his fingers intertwined with hers. Her inner voice squealed with contentment, jumping around as a kid at Christmas.

“Can I ask you when you knew?” she questioned him as they set off again. “That you’re feeling something for me.”

“When you were in Cyrus’s farm.”

“Ah, yes. Derek told me you've been ready to assault on your own.”

The ex-policeman had been very intrigued by this explosive reaction, a far cry from his usual stoicism. He put it down to the fact that he'd been tied hand and foot at the time and couldn't really do anything to help her, at the risk of jeopardizing the whole mission. But he hadn't been so agitated when Reid had been held hostage by that suspect who had tortured him on camera.

“Yes. I still don't know how Dave managed to convince me not to do this crazy thing.”

He still vividly remembered the almost animal-like impulse that had encouraged him to rush to her aid. He could have ripped his headphones from his ears and run straight for the building, bulletproof and weaponless, if his mentor hadn't brought him back to solid ground with a few well-chosen words. His whole body had been wracked with tremors and his heart had pounded violently against his ribs for a long time afterwards, before he managed to reason himself out.

“I’m glad you listened to him that day.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “And you? When you knew?”

“The day I saw that bloodstain in your apartment,” she replied, without hesitation. “When I realized you might be dead, my heart stopped beating.”

And she'd had the impression that it went on again when she'd found him, lying on that hospital bed, eyelids closed. She had wanted to take him in her arms, kiss his forehead and whisper reassuring words in his ear. And even more so when, later, he had to say goodbye to his ex-wife and son. However, she had to be content with watching over him in his sleep afterwards.

“Good thing it started again.”

“Yes.”

They laughed softly, not looking at each other but tightening their grip on each other's hands. They both reached the elevator that would take them back to the sixth floor and stepped into the cabin as the doors opened in front of them. It was only when they closed that Emily remembered the technical analyst's instruction.

Wait! Penelope said we shouldn't come back without kissing first.”

“Oh, yes!” he realized too. “Uh… how do we proceed?”

“What?”

They had let go of each other's hands and were facing each other, in a state of confusion and panic that was growing as the elevator swallowed up the floors.

“Do you initiate or do I?”

“I don’t know. It… it’s supposed to be something natural.”

“That is, I saw it in a different context.”

“Me too, but…”

She didn't have the opportunity to continue her sentence as Aaron's fingers grabbed her face and his mouth landed on hers. She gasped, caught off guard by this initiative, then relaxed. Her eyelids lowered and guided by instinct she moved closer to him. Embraced, intoxicated by these new and pleasant sensations, they prolonged this kiss without worrying about anything else. So much so, in fact, that they didn’t hear the distinctive bell-like sound announcing the opening of the doors. It was the cheers and whistles of the team that brought them back to reality.

“I… I think we've reached our floor,” Aaron stammered, putting his tie back in place.

“Apparently,” she said, readjusting her suit jacket.

Both disheveled, they blushed with equal intensity, unable to look up at their colleagues.

“I'm so happy for you!” exclaimed the luscious blonde as she threw herself at them.

She wrapped her arms around them, covered in colorful bracelets, pressing them against her with unsuspected strength.

“Garcia...” Hotch grumbled, regaining his boss-like confidence.

“Yes, sorry!” she snapped, pulling away from them with a smile up to her ears. “It’s so great! I’m so, so happy. You’re so beautiful!”

The other profilers and BAU agents watched them with the same amused expression.

“In the end, we're not doing too badly with our screwed-up plan,” Derek pointed out to JJ.

“Shouldn't you be in a meeting instead of me?” remarked his superior, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, yes! Shit!”

Yes, that's what spring was all about: the days grew longer, temperatures rose, buds appeared, wildlife came back to life and friends organized themselves so that a beautiful love story could finally begin.

___

To be honest, I'm not fond of this story, but I wanted to do something for the challenge anyway. So, here it is! :)

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #david rossi #hotchniss spring awakening

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the-queen-and-the-king · 22 days ago

Text

It's just a dream

Summary: Beth can't sleep, unlike Aaron who is fast asleep next to her. When she understands that he's living an erotic dream, she finds the situation funny until a name escapes his lips. And it's not hers.

Characters: Beth Clemmons and Aaron Hotchner (promise, it's still a Hotchniss fanfic)

Contents: anger, angst, arguing, sorrows... well, it's a break-up fic (and Aaron is an idiot)

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

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Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

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Beth couldn’t sleep. She had so many questions on her mind that her brain was like a beehive in springtime frenzy. Beside her, sound asleep, Aaron didn't seem to have any such problems, despite the drudgery of his job. He didn't tell her much about his day-to-day life, but she knew enough to suspect that he had more than just good memories. And yet, he was fast asleep.

No sooner had this thought finished beneath her skull than he began to stir. A whimper had passed his lips and his shoulders twitched. She prepared herself mentally to have to wake him up to shake him out of his macabre phantasmagoria. She'd already seen him having nightmares while dozing in her bed. He invariably ended up sitting up straight, eyes bulging, sweating. Sometimes he screamed, other times he simply opened his mouth in a mute cry. But he never told her what he saw. This was a source of frustration for her, who would have liked to help him ease his conscience, but part of her was also glad not to know any more.

He moved again and whined. His eyebrows were furrowed, his jaw clenched steadily and his fingers clutched at the sheets. She hesitated to shake him to interrupt the process. But her gaze was drawn to a surprising relief. Lower. At the birth of this legs. He had a hard-on. Caught off guard, Beth didn't dare make the slightest move. She wasn't unaware that men had erotic dreams, just like women, and that they often became erect during certain phases of their sleep; but there was something unsettling about witnessing the phenomenon live. And funny.

She smiled, thinking he had to replay the evening's movie. They'd slept together twice and had plenty of fun together. His breathing rate quickened and he grunted, still standing at attention. The replay of their lovemaking seemed to please him.

“Emily…”

A bucket of ice cubes tumbled into her stomach. Emily?! Was that the name she heard? Emily, like… Emily Prentiss? The one who had been his subordinate for years. He was fantasizing about one of his former employees. Brunette and polyglot, like her; a beautiful woman indeed, but one with whom he had no right to have a relationship. At least, that was the case when she was working with the FBI. What was she to deduce from this slip of the tongue? Had there been something between them – as she'd suspected for a while? Or were they repressed feelings that expressed themselves in his dreams? Could it be that, now that she was no longer working under him, their relationship had evolved?

Already unable to sleep with her previous questions, she was in for a sleepless night. Aaron groaned again, and she kicked him with her heel. Strong enough to move him on, but weak enough not to wake him up. She would have a word with him when it was light.

Later that morning, Aaron had to face the facts: something was wrong. Ever since he'd opened one eye, Beth had been elusive. She'd consistently told him she was fine when he'd asked about her condition, but it was all lies. Usually warm and prickly, she was cold and sullen. We’re all having off days, he mused, but he couldn't help feeling that he was surely responsible for this situation. If this hadn't been the case, she wouldn't have dodged his hugs, tensed up at every kiss and had that latent aggression behind every word she said. He'd been through this before and it hadn't ended well. He had no desire to relive it, so he tried to put things right before lunch. Opportunities to spend time with her were rare, and he wanted to avoid wasting them on trifles.

“Okay. What have I done?” he exclaimed as she busied herself in the kitchen.

She tensed up but didn’t turn herself to him.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you've been sulking since you got out of bed,” he remarked. “And if I've done or said something wrong, I'd just as soon know it so I can... I don't know, make it up to you.”

Beth sighed and put down the knife in her hand before facing forward. Leaning on the worktop, she gave him the most surprising reply he'd ever heard.

“Did you sleep well?”

Unsettled, he didn't answer right away, trying to figure out what it all meant. Confused, he finally retorted:

“Why? I snored?”

Normally, he was one of those rare men who didn't deprive their partners of sleep because of their snoring. But as he grew older, things changed.

“No, you dreamt.”

She couldn't have lost him more.

“What? I had a nightmare?”

It wouldn’t have been a first. It was something he always dreaded when sharing a room with someone. Because he knew that invariably, he'd wake up the other person and they'd demand an explanation. But just as he'd never told Haley about his bad dreams, he didn't intend to do so with Beth either. He didn’t want to scare her.

“No. You obviously had a very pleasant dream because you had an erection.”

Awkwardness washed over him without warning before he remembered that they were sleeping together and that this was definitely not the reason for the discomfort between them. In fact, he couldn't understand where her unmistakable annoyance was coming from.

“Well, those things happen,” he affirmed with a clumsy smile. “Are you jealous of a dream?”

“Honestly, I wouldn't have minded if you'd at least dreamt about me,” she spat, arms crossed over her chest.

“Maybe it was the case.”

He had no recollection of what his brain had come up with during the night.

“Judging by the name you pronounced, I'm sure not.”

“A name? Which name?”

“Emily.”

A bolt of lightning shot through his ribcage. He hadn't expected this and, at the same time, wasn't all that surprised. But the embarrassment he felt was suddenly more real. Because he suspected what she had in mind now. She'd already expressed doubts about his relationship with his subordinate when he'd introduced her to his team and, later, after JJ's wedding. He denied it every time, assuring her that she was just one of his agents. Like Garcia or his former liaison officer. He guessed he hadn't convinced her.

“You… you know, Emily is pretty common name. It could be the one from someone famous.”

“Okay. So, give me a celebrity named Emily.”

A heavy silence settled in his cranium. He searched his memory as best he could, but everything seemed to have suddenly disappeared. Emily Bronte’s name came up, but he rejected it immediately. He'd never be able to get her to believe that he was fantasizing about a nineteenth-century writer of whom we didn't even have any photos. The woman in front of him raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“Beth, it’s just a dream. It’s not something you can control and it doesn’t mean anything.”

She sighed and hesitated before she resumed. He crossed his fingers for her to believe him.

“Aaron, why did you agree to go out with me?”

He was going to nitpick at the use of such an expression given the fact that they'd been a couple for almost three years, but felt this wasn't the time to play semantics.

“Be… because you’re gorgeous, smart, funny… Jack loves you.”

He had run out of arguments much faster than expected. Unlike her.

“So, it has nothing to do with me hitting on you first?”

A shiver ran down his spine. What was he supposed to answer to that? He had the feeling that positive or negative feedback would be just as unfavorable for him. He chose a third solution.

“Beth, why are you asking me this?”

“Because I know that flirting isn't your thing, and I'm getting the impression more and more that I was just an opportunity you seized on the fly, rather than getting what you really wanted.”

“… What?”

“Penelope and JJ told me how reassured they were to see me on your arm,” she admitted, her tone less firm. “They explained to me that since your divorce and the death of your ex-wife, things had been dull for you.”

This he had confided to her before their first night together, for her to prepare mentally for the approaching catastrophe. Information she seemed to have accepted in good faith. She had even reassured and encouraged him that evening, and had offered no criticism or mockery when he had, logically, screwed up big time.

“Oh, not because nobody wanted you,” she continued, one arm still across her torso while the other waved to punctuate her speech. “No. According to them, there was a bunch of opportunities. The issue came from you. Obviously, you didn’t notice them.”

A blindness that Dave had already pointed out, without changing a thing.

“The question then arises as to whether you weren't seeing them because you're one of those men who aren't good at analyzing women's behavior, or because all your attention was focused on someone else.”

Given that he was a profiler, he imagined she was leaning towards the second option. He said nothing and she went on.

“Someone that the Bureau rules forbade you to have and who, curiously, is brunette, able to speak several languages, is roughly the same height as me and also has a sense of humor.”

He lowered his nose. All her reasoning made sense. What could he say to that, knowing that she was also right? Yes, he'd stopped seeing the candidates gravitating around him the second he'd realized he had feelings for her. Just as, once upon a time, the other girls had left his field of vision when he'd met Haley. Yes, he'd also realized that it was a losing battle: their relationship was forbidden and, in any case, his desire was probably one-sided. And yes, he'd given in to the easy way out for a multitude of reasons – each as unspeakable as each other – but above all he'd hoped to divert his brain from this unattainable goal. To no avail, clearly. He did, however, try one last run.

“Beth, she is on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, there’s nothing to fear about.”

“But I'm not afraid, Aaron,” she said serenely. “I just expected sincerity from you.”

Even without having taken the anthropology course, he knew how much he'd hurt her. She had to believe she'd been just a hobby to him, a toy to play with every other weekend. It was never his intention. He had truly believed he could move on by embarking on this adventure with her. But it was clear that he had done more harm than good.

“I… I’m sorry, I…”

Beth's cell phone rang briefly. She had received a message she looked at immediately.

“My boss wants to know if I've had time to think about his proposal.”

A month earlier, she had told him that she had been offered a job in Hong Kong. A difficult decision to make given her situation with him and Jack.

“I guess I can give him an answer now.”

“Beth, I’m truly sorry. I never wanted to…”

He paused as she passed him and stopped, one hand resting on his arm.

“Aaron, I know you're a good person and you don't deserve to be alone,” she added with disarming kindness. “So, here is my advice: If you love her, dearly, sincerely, tell her.”

She kissed him on the cheek and declared:

“Nice to have known you.”

Then she headed to the bathroom. In her own way, she was telling him that he had to leave: get all his stuff and disappear from her life. She was giving him back his freedom, and he felt a strange relief. One question remained: would he dare to follow her final recommendation?

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #beth clemmons

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the-queen-and-the-king · 1 month ago

Text

Under the skin

Summary: Emily and Aaron are into a secret relationship. They had met again the night before to have some fun and Emily wakes up under Aaron's soft gaze on her. He suddenly has some questions about her tattoos.

Characters: Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner

Contents: discussion about abortion, sexual content, dirty talk, heavy angst, mother issues, teen pregnancy, religious content... and still soft ending. 18+/minors DNI

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

She felt something brush past her. A delicate caress beneath the curve of her bare breasts, which strolled for a while over her exposed belly before rising again to wander in the hollow of her valley. She smiled. She knew whose intrusive hand it was, and opened one eye to meet the brown irises resting on her.

“Hello,” Aaron said with a tender smile.

He was lying on his side, leaning on his elbow, looking at her as if she were the most beautiful creature on Earth. Her cheeks flushed in spite of herself.

“Hi,” she replied in a sleepy voice.

He leaned over to kiss her, and she readily accepted his offer. It was a brief kiss, but soft and light. There was no intention behind it other than to demonstrate the affection they had for each other. They'd been sleeping together for several months, unbeknownst to anyone else, and while initially all their affectionate gestures had been driven by their desire to merge with each other; they'd now shifted into a phase where simple tenderness guided their movements.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his hand now resting on her hip.

She shook her head positively and enquired the same interrogation. He confirmed that he had also recovered well.

“For how long have you been awake?”

Unlike her, Aaron slept little and was an early bird. But regularly, he hung out with her in bed, even though she was still in dreamland. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd found him reading a book next to her, patiently waiting for her to come out of hibernation. He looked at his watch, which he wore like a right-hander, and turned to her.

“One hour.”

“Why didn't you wake me?” she exclaimed, unable to suppress a yawn.

“Because the night was short,” he retorted with a smirk.

They'd met the night before at her place and had barely touched their dinner when they'd already begun hostilities. She'd straddled him on the couch with an ardor that matched the anticipation. To prevent their relationship from being revealed too fast to their colleagues, they had set themselves a few rules: never during investigations, never during the week and never when he had custody of Jack. A wise protocol that led to a glaring lack of them. As soon as a window of opportunity presented itself, they fucked like rabbits. And that was what they have done that night. After they quickly came on the sofa, they drank a few sips of water, and then migrated to the bedroom without touching the dessert. What followed was a blur. They had kissed, caressed, and nested a number of times. And then, all this frenzy came to an abrupt halt when exhaustion got the better of them. They’d fallen asleep like a rock.

“Monsieur is a show-off,” she ironized, giving him a disapproving eyebrow raise.

“I'm not showing off, that's a fact,” he defended himself, sincerely. “The night was short for both of us.”

“But I need to sleep more than you, that’s it?”

“Obviously.”

Emily burst out laughing. As usual, her lover spoke with complete honesty, but she didn't know if he was aware of the innuendo in some of his answers. As she'd expected, he worried on the spot.

“What? You didn’t like it?”

“Considering the number of orgasms I've had, I'm going to have a hard time saying that,” she gestured, stroking his cheek before kissing him. “And for you, the question doesn't even arise.”

She placed another kiss on his lips and nestled against him. When she thought about it, it was strange to think that she knew how her boss reacted when he got off. She was the only one in Quantico with this secret and, despite her interest in gossip; it was the last thing she'd tell the other team members. That was between her and the principal concerned. Concerned, who suddenly seemed very absorbed in contemplating... something. Something on her evidently, since he was staring at her bare torso with intensity. And not the one he had last night when he was vigorously fucking her. She tried to catch his gaze, to no avail. She hesitated to pinch him back to reality when he opened his mouth again.

“What does it mean?”

To answer her mute question, he brushed his hand against her left flank, under her armpit. She immediately lost her smile. She should have prepared herself for the fact that he would ask her about it, but she was so used to seeing it in the mirror every morning that she forgot it existed. Aaron instantly noticed her confusion and pointed out:

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I can get that.”

She raised her eyes to him. He meant it. The giant was always keen to respect people's intimate boundaries, even those of complete strangers; so it was obvious that he would never overstep those of the woman he was sleeping with. An exaggerated politeness she found charming and soothing. It wasn't a subject she liked to talk about – she'd lied a lot to her previous partners – but with him it was different.

“Why wouldn't I want to talk about it?” she asked, tasting the water.

“Many people get tattoos to express their innermost thoughts, or to mark an important event in their lives, positive or otherwise. So talking about it isn't necessarily a pleasant experience.”

“Others also get tattoos of things they like,” she argued, her insides in knots.

“Is that the case?”

Her words died before passing her lips. And then, she wanted to confide to him. Because it was normal that he had questions about the two tattoos she had on her body. Not because he was a profiler, but simply because he wanted to know more about her. They shared the same cult of secrecy, which led them to keep many of their emotions to themselves and to lock away all the information they felt was theirs and theirs alone. But he had gradually begun to open up to her, a sign that he trusted her completely. It was her turn to return the favor, for she had no doubt that he would keep everything to him, without her even needing to demand it.

“No,” she murmured shaking her head. “The… I made that one when I was seventeen.”

From her vantage point, she could only see a vague line of meaningless dots, but she could visualize the word that was inscribed on her ribs.

“I lied about my age,” she confessed, anticipating his remark. “My mother had dragged me to France, ostensibly for holidays, but she continued to work, leaving me alone once again.”

The anger she'd felt back then was flowing through her veins again, with the same bitterness as before.

“I was fed up. Fed up with jumping from country to country, fed up with not having any friends my own age, fed up with having to follow her around just because I was underage,” she growled, no longer paying any attention to him. “It had been brewing for several years, but a few months away from finally coming of age, I couldn't take it anymore.”

She still remembered the perpetual urge to scream she had deep down inside. The mere sound of her footsteps, the mention of her name or the sight of a photo of her mother was enough to set her off. She had broken and torn many things during this period.

“So when I passed this shop in town, I wanted to get the tattoo of what I wanted most.”

Liberté. That was what was written under her arm. Which she translated to her lover, as he inquired what it meant.

“Why in French?”

“I thought it was prettier than in English.”

He vaguely nodded. He accepted her choice without understand it. Like many Americans, he only talked one language so was completely ignoring how this word was pronounced.

“I hear it hurts like hell to get a tattoo there. Why you didn’t do it elsewhere?”

“Because I didn’t want my mother to see it. So I did it where it would be systematically hidden by clothes; even in a bathing suit,” she explained, recalling how she'd emptied her entire wardrobe to find the perfect spot for Elizabeth Prentiss not to see anything. “But, I can confirm, I was in severe pain.”

She had been on the verge of turning a blind eye.

“And, at the same time, I told myself that this was the price I had to pay to get it.”

And then she hadn't hesitated for a second to put as much distance as possible between herself and her mother, in every sense of the word. Geographically, first of all, by returning to the United States; but also mentally, by behaving in exactly the way that her genitrix would never have wished. A state of mind that had greatly amused Penelope when she came across her college photos, but which had been a necessary passage for the profiler.

“And the other?” he continued, pulling back the sheet to reveal the offending ankle.

Emily raised her head just enough to see the dark shape overhanging her malleolus. Nausea overcame her. She suddenly felt cold when Aaron, against whom she was pressed, was a veritable human hot water bottle. He must have sensed her trembling as he pulled the blanket over her shoulder.

“That can wait for another day, you know,” he remarked, not fooled as to the reason for the shivering.

“No, it’s better for you to know now.”

Before their relationship became more serious and some questions were asked. The ones we used to bring out for every couple. If they had to get to that stage, she'd rather he knew about it so she wouldn't be alone in her discomfort. However, this meant talking about the most important event in her life. She'd already done it, sort of, once, with Dave and she'd felt terrible about it. All the memories had resurfaced with a sharpness she could have done without. The BAU co-founder was understanding and attentive. He hadn't passed judgment on her actions, and she certainly hadn't thanked him enough for that. But Rossi wasn’t the man she was sleeping with. From what she knew of the latter, she was confident he'd react the same way, but it was a sensitive subject and she didn't know what he'd think of her then.

“Do… do you remember the case with the exorcist priest?”

“Hard to forget.”

The investigation had taken place the previous month and the situation had led the agency manager to call the Vatican. A phone call you didn’t make every day.

“And do you remember Matthew?”

“The first victim? One of your childhood friends, right?”

“Yes.”

Against all the odds, the rest came almost naturally. The words lined up seamlessly, despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. She had gone into more detail than she had with the novelist: her growing loneliness, her desire to have friends her own age, her integration into this congregation, this group of young people who had accepted her, her first flings, her first times, her thoughtlessness and its consequences. That positive test she'd held in her pale, trembling hands. The repeated vomiting was as much due to anxiety as to her new condition. Her banishment from the band and the indifference of the culprit.

And then there were the words of this clergyman, shocking, aberrant, hurtful. She could still see the expression on his face when he'd said that. Serene, paternal, confident. The ex-prosecutor's muscles tensed as she repeated his words. She saw his fists clench. He was outraged. Like Matthew had been. The only one who had gone out of his way to help her. The only one who hold her hand until the end.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she underlined, relieved.

“No, I’m sorry to have been so harsh on you that day.”

She smiled, a gentle warmth spreading through her chest, chasing away the icy mist that had settled there.

“It’s okay, you were right. I was far too involved in this investigation,” she reassured him, stroking his chest. “And you didn’t know.”

He was silent for a few seconds, and then his gaze swung back to her foot. She resumed before he could say anything.

“I was fifteen. It took me ten years to find the strength to go to a tattoo artist to pay tribute to this... this part of me that I had to get rid of.”

She had almost said “this being” before remembering that it was then just a bunch of cells, with no real human form, no consciousness, and no memory. But even knowing this hadn't made the process any easier to live with or digest.

“What is it? A lotus flower?”

“Yes. I learnt that it lives only for a day, so I told myself that…”

She didn’t succeed to finish her sentence. Aaron hugged her, placing a kiss on her skull as he gently rocked her. Under normal circumstances, she would have rebelled, arguing that she wasn't a baby; but here, she appreciated the gentleness of his gestures.

“It’s beautiful, you did the right choice,” he hushed to her ear.

New tears escaped, rolling down her chin and falling onto his pectorals. He made no comment, tenderly kissing her hair for lack of access to other parts of her face.

“Does it bother you that I'm tattooed?” she questioned, once she'd calmed down.

“Not at all. I was just curious.”

“Good, because it would have been difficult to go back.”

He smiled at her joke and their gaze crossed. Their lips met again, delicately, calmly. His feelings for her didn't seem to have changed at all.

“You don't have a tattoo,” she noted, intrigued in turn.

“No. Still, there's something to be said for it,” he declared with surprising detachment. “But I don't have your resistance to pain, nor your courage.”

Her smile split her face with such force that her cheeks ached.

I wanted to write a text about Emily's tattoos. Here it is. :D

#hotchniss #criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #smut

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the-queen-and-the-king · 1 month ago

Text

Diary

Summary: Aaron offered to Emily to help her moving after her return from Paris and she agreed. Everything goes find until she finds him with her diary in his hands.

Characters: Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner

Contents: light angst with happy ending, mention of Haley's death, of loneliness and Emily's wounds, and, most of all, Aaron is an absolute idiot! XD

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

It was an exchange of courtesies, she mused, as she put her plates away in one of the kitchen cupboards. She'd been there for his move, after Foyet's attack on his home and after Haley's death, it was only natural – and logical – that he'd offer to help her move in. She'd just returned from France, Doyle had been put out of action and all the paperwork to resurrect her had been completed, so she was entitled to a proper home. And since the branch manager was the first to know – because he was part of the validation circuit – he naturally asked her if she needed a hand.

She had been tempted to say “no”. Like him after his divorce, she'd had the idea of accomplishing this task on her own. She loved the team, and had missed them all terribly, but circumstances had created a certain tension between them. Penelope, Dave and JJ would surely have been delighted to assist her on this mission, but the first two weren't necessarily the most efficient in the field and the third was swamped between her family life and her work at the Pentagon. And then he'd asked her, and she'd said “yes”.

She didn’t even think about it actually. The word had escaped her lips before she'd even had time to hold it back. Yes, she wanted him to be there. Why? She didn't know it, but when she saw his shy smile afterwards, she knew she'd given the right answer. So, there she was, within her new walls, with her boss, unpacking her boxes. And she was smiling like an idiot. Each time she caught herself doing it, she would pull herself together, remember their respective hierarchical positions and inhale deeply before regaining her seriousness.

Until next time.

She shook herself when this happened to her for the umpteenth time and left the kitchen to locate her sidekick for the day. Her boxes were empty, so she had to see how far along he was. He stood in the living room, an open book in his hand. Her heart tumbled in her chest.

“Hotch?" she managed to articulate, breathless.

“Oh!” he flinched. “Uh… it… it fell out of the box. Open.”

He had folded the book at the speed of light, his ears red. Maybe he was lying, but she believed him. His role had been to rebuild her library, and she couldn't for a moment imagine him leafing through all her books as he went.

“I… I didn’t know it was… it was your diary,” he stammered, nervous.

“You read it.”

It wasn’t a question. It was obvious he'd had a look. Her legs seemed ready to give way beneath her.

“A few words only. By reflex," he explained, before extending his arm. “Here.”

He returned her property to her, looking particularly embarrassed. She hurried to pick it up and pressed it against her chest, in an instinctive gesture of protection. She had the sensation of hearing her blood circulating in her eardrums.

“He… he’s lucky.”

This unexpected remark brought her back down to earth.

“Who?”

“The guy you were talking about,” he said, hesitating. “I… I hope he’s aware of… of the feelings you’ve got for him.”

Her heartbeat ran wild. What part of her writings had he come across? What did he read? What did he understand? Clearly, she had a soft spot for someone. For a man. And now he was waiting for an answer to his reflection.

“…No,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks flush.

She felt like she was fourteen again. It was horrible.

“You… you didn’t tell him?”

“No,” she confirmed, trying to calm the panicked beating of her heart.

“Is it because of me?”

“What?”

She hadn't expected this reply at all and immediately frowned. What did he mean by that?

“I made you leave everything behind overnight. Perhaps your ambition was to tell him how you felt about him.”

“Doyle had just escaped from jail,” she remembered him. “Do you really think I was in the mood to flirt?”

“It may have been from before.”

His reasoning made sense, but he was wrong. Kind of. She shook her head, thinking that this was surely her best opportunity to reveal the truth. He went on:

“Oh! It… it’s someone you’ve meet over there? Where you were hidden.”

“No, Hotch. It… - she gulped – it’s you.”

He recoiled slightly and his eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“… Me, what?”

The agency director was usually a very bright person – he might not rival Spencer, but he wasn't far behind – except in one area. He never noted the interest one might have in him and, obviously, even when it was openly mentioned, he still didn't conceive of it. For him, it was unthinkable that anyone would have feelings for him. A thought that gripped her chest. She had to open his eyes.

“… What exactly did you read?”

“’I miss him. His hidden sweetness, his endless patience, his sincere kindness.’,” he repeated without any hesitation.

“And what does that evoke for you?”

“He looks like a good guy.”

She sighed, dropping her arms to her sides.

“Ok. Let me read another part.”

The profiler picked up her diary again and turned the pages to return to the first annotations. When she was younger, she had written assiduously, putting down on paper whatever came into her head. Then she stopped for years, until she died. Virtually. Alone in her Paris apartment, suffering from her wounds, she had once again felt the need to take up the pen. She hadn't reread her words but remembered what had been on her mind at the time. She took a breath and began reading, taking care not to look up at her listener.

“’He’s afraid, I know it. He’s afraid that history will repeat itself. He has no other choice but to let me go but he’s afraid to not see me again ever. He's afraid he'll only find me lying in a pool of blood at home, dead, like Haley. But I won't let that happen because I owe him the truth. The truth about what I feel… for him.’”

She closed her notes, then raised her head. He stared at her, eyelids wide, mouth agape. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. She said nothing, waiting for him to digest what he'd just heard. What he’d just learnt.

“… You...” he began, flabbergasted. “You… you were talking about me.”

“Yes,” she admitted, a little chilled by his reaction. “… It… it seems that… that I was wrong about…”

Unannounced, his lips landed on hers. Surprised, she quickly let go, closing her eyes and savoring these new sensations. Soon, they were in each other's arms – she'd throw away her diary on the nearest piece of furniture – torso to torso, tongue to tongue. They parted only because the lack of oxygen was making itself felt for both of them, but they didn't leave each other's embrace.

“For how long...?” she asked, her cheeks reddening.

“Always,” he said, ecstatic.

She smiled and they exchanged another kiss, tender, passionate, fanning the embers of her lower abdomen. They took another step back to breathe.

“I feel terribly stupid all of a sudden," he pointed out, embarrassed.

“It’s okay. It’s part of the things I love in you.”

“What? Being stupid?”

“Yes. I've got a whole passage on that,” she confessed, her nose brushing his. “Do you want me to read it for you?”

“Later.”

He kissed her and imperceptibly pushed her towards the sofa. Her chest burned as she imagined what would happen next.

___

Yes, I'm currently working on the many one-shots I've written so far, before I find the courage to translate the multi-chapters stories (and write the long ones).

#hotchniss #criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst

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the-queen-and-the-king · 2 months ago

Text

The circle of life

Summary: Haley has just been buried, the team had to fly away for another investigation, leaving Hotch behind. The unsub arrested, Emily has one goal in mind, find Aaron back and confess her feelings. She tells the events after.

Characters: Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner and Jack Hotchner

Contents: grieving/mourning, mention of Haley's death, psychological trauma, angst with happy ending, friends to lovers, smut (with oral sex (f receiving) and more, but not very detailed), and it's a fist person POV. 18+/minors DNI

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

As soon as the investigation was over, I had only one thing on my mind: to find him. The return journey seemed interminable, as if we'd had to come back from the other side of the planet. And the drive from the airport to his home seemed just as long. A leaden blanket hung over my shoulders. I had the feeling that all I had to do was close my eyelids and I'd fall asleep instantly. But I kept them open because I couldn't wait to join him.

We'd had to abandon him in the middle of a funeral meal, surrounded by a hostile crowd that only exacerbated his already pronounced sense of guilt. Without exaggeration, we knew that he blamed himself to death for what had happened. He wished the situation between him and Haley had been reversed. We watched him like a hawk, careful not to say or do anything that might lead him to commit the irreparable. His life hung by a thin thread named Jack. He was up only because his son needed him.

A child he barely knew, to tell the truth, since he was only two years old when the divorce was ratified, and had seen him only in passing during the year that followed, before his ex-wife and their offspring were forced to disappear for almost as long. The baby he'd left behind had little in common with the little boy he'd picked up later, and he had to relearn everything about him. He also had to reorganize his whole life, even though getting up in the morning required considerable effort.

These months of waiting and frustration had eaten away at him little by little. I'd seen him lose weight, withdraw from the group, withdraw into his shell. I'd done everything I could to keep him afloat, to keep him from brooding, but I knew that those few evenings we spent together had only been bubbles of calm. Ephemeral moments whose effects dissolved the second I left his home. He'd never rejected me, never encouraged me to run away either. He instinctively accepted my presence, lowering all his barriers for me. And for me only.

I was privileged. What I saw and knew about him was unique. None of the other team members were aware of this. Not even Dave, who'd been around longer than I had. He trusted me blindly, completely, without any counterpart. We never discussed about it. It had come naturally between us, and I had returned the favor by revealing events from my past, emotions and feelings that I had never addressed with anyone. He knew who was Emily Prentiss and I knew who was Aaron Hotchner. And what we knew pleased us a lot.

It took me ages to understand what I was really feeling for him. It took me ages to accept this weakness for him. It took me ages, also, to realize that the attraction was mutual. Guided by the same desire not to make waves, not to destroy the fragile balance of our group, not to cross the line, we closed our eyes to what made our hearts beat. Imprisoned by our respective desire to control everything and wounded by our own disastrous experiences, we ignored the evidence. Until the reciprocal becomes too obvious to deny.

All that remained was to take the last step towards each other, and that's what I was about to do. The context was completely inappropriate, but I couldn't see myself waiting any longer. He had to know. I had to put my foot down and let him know that I was there for him, more than ever. That he was not alone to face this trial. That we would make this journey together, hand in hand. That he would, at last, receive the love he deserved.

It was late, but light was filtering through behind the closed shutters, proof that he was still awake. I knocked on the door, so as not to wake Jack in case he was already asleep, and Aaron quickly appeared on the threshold. He didn’t look particularly surprised to see me, there, in front of his place. He stepped aside to let me in and closed the door behind my back. We faced each other and I saw his eyes shine brighter than usual. He was moved to discover me here, of my own free will.

“Have you completed the investigation?” he asked me in his soft voice.

He was dressed simply in jogging pants and a T-shirt, and was probably on his way to bed. The first time I saw him without his usual suit, I was very unsettled, but then I got used to it, especially as he didn't look any less handsome without it. I nodded in response to his question.

“Good,” he affirmed with a sad smile.

I got closer to him, repressing my desire to touch him.

“Where is Jack?”

“He’s in his bed. For now,” he added in a clumsy attempt at humor.

The toddler was plagued by nightmares stemming mainly from the trauma he and his father had endured – and was still enduring. A normal but exhausting process for his sire, who was constantly on the alert as soon as night fell.

“Are you okay?” I interrogated him, already knowing the answer.

He could have lied, as he usually did. He could have taken shelter behind the high walls that protected him on a daily basis. But, once again, he gave himself up to me without hesitation. He shook his head and tears rolled down his cheeks. We embraced without a second thought. I offered him all my benevolence and found him the support he needed.

He rested his chin on my shoulder and gently wrapped his arms around my torso. I caressed his back and hair to reassure him. I said nothing, it wasn’t necessary. He understood that I wasn't judging him, that I didn't consider him a sissy because he cried and cried and cried. Because he was cracking, after months of gritting his teeth and putting on a brave face. Because his carapace was suddenly shattered, opening long-rusted floodgates.

Then he calmed down, caught his breath and moved away from me, without letting go. Our eyes met and I grasped his intentions. He leaned towards me, ready to kiss me, but I raised my hand between us and stopped him, two fingers on his lips. He moved back, hurt. I replied on the spot:

“Not now. Not like that.”

His eyebrows furrowed, I went on:

“I want it too, but it has to be a positive moment.”

He nodded silently and his forehead came to rest gently against mine. We stayed that way for a long time, in each other's warmth, as connected as it was possible to be at that stage of our relationship. Then he resumed:

“Are you hungry?”

“No. I’m exhausted,” I confessed, at my wits’ end.

Again, he accepted my implied request and, with his hand around mine, retrieved my travel bag which I had dropped in the hallway. Without further ado, we headed for his room, switching off the living room and kitchen lights on the way. In no time at all, we were snuggled together under his sheets. A new, strangely natural promiscuity. It was as if we'd been destined to end up this way. We sunk into sleep in no time.

Of course, Jack woke us up a few hours later and I had to share his father with him, but that didn't change what was then in motion. I loved Aaron, I took his son with him. Soon, I was spending more time at their house than at mine, moving my belongings from my closets to his and supporting him in his grief. He told me that he'd found a shrink in town who had no connection with the FBI. An announcement he made to me, embarrassed, because he feared I'd take it badly if he went and poured his heart out to someone other than me. I immediately reassured him, accepting that I couldn't carry or know everything about him. I managed the moppet during his sessions and afterwards, when the backlash finished him off.

Logically doubtful but not put off by the idea, I supported him in this sudden parenthood. Jack adored me and adopted me immediately, snuggling up to me on the couch while we waited for Aaron to come back from Quantico or his medical appointments, clinging to my clothes or slipping his hand into mine when we went for a walk, multiplying hugs at the first opportunity. Talkative and curious, he told lots of anecdotes and asked a hundred questions an hour. We chatted endlessly, never seeing the day go by.

Everything went well with the little one and with the big one too. We were both finding our feet, in this secret relationship that suited us very well. We were constantly seeking each other's touch, with a few crisscrossed fingers, with our shoulders brushing against each other, with our evenings intertwined on the sofa. We'd even get together during investigations – at the risk of being unmasked – soothing the tensions of the day by intoxicating in each other's scent. Our lips would sometimes land on a forehead, a cheek, a neck, a chest... anywhere but each other's mouths.

I wanted him more than ever. As he wrapped his arms around me, pressed himself into my back, his lips over my neck, his breath caressing my skin, I dreamed of feeling his fingers slip between my legs, of him kneading my breasts and taking me without restraint. But I was surprisingly patient, clear about the fact that this step required a lot from him. He had to come to terms with revealing his damaged body, with embarking on an intimate act he hadn't performed in a long time, with the fact that the woman he'd loved all his adult life was definitely out of his reach, and that another was taking over at his side.

We discovered our bodies slowly, gradually exposing the anatomy we'd imagined so many times. We were learning about its features, its flaws, its beauties, its reactions. Our gestures became more enterprising as the weeks went by, the caresses less chaste and the kisses more explicit. But our lips never crossed. They brushed against each other, opening and escaping at the last second. The time hadn’t come yet.

I had no clear idea of the conditions that would have made this moment better than any other for our first kiss. He neither. As for the rest, it happened without any warning, with disconcerting fluidity. Our bodies knew it was that day and no other. It was around eight o'clock, I'd just put Jack to bed and told him his story, and walked up the corridor with a sense of duty accomplished. Aaron was coming out of the bathroom. The same smile lighted up our face.

“Is he asleep?” he asked in a low voice.

The cub’s door was left open so that he could enjoy the brightness of the corridor and hear the comforting sounds of the house.

“I hope so,” I joked on the same tone.

“Thank you.”

Aaron repeated the word over and over, as if still struggling to conceive of anyone knowingly coming to his aid without asking anything in return. As if he couldn't believe that, in a couple, the two parties could do each other favors for the simple sake of the partnership. As if he was surprised to see me still there, by his side, when he had, from his point of view, nothing for himself.

“It’s normal,” I said stroking his cheek.

That's when he leaned towards me and pressed his lips to mine. Four months after Haley's death, we were finally kissing. And the sensations immediately drew us into a feverish ballet. With our eyes closed, pressed together, our hearts pounding in unison against our ribs, our kiss grew longer, more intense, a call for more. Without speaking, we entered the parent's bedroom, pushed the door behind us and began a thorough stripping of our clothes.

Four months after Jack's mother's funeral, we kissed. Four years after our stormy face-to-face in his office, we made love. Our first time together, after an interminable wait, we should have embraced with brutal energy. We should have hastened to the apotheosis that all lovers seek. We didn’t. We took our time, not skimping on foreplay. We seized the moment, aware that it would be unique. But that didn’t make it any less intense.

Skillfully, delicately, with his hands and mouth, he set my sleeping body on fire. He fanned the burning embers in my lower abdomen with another kind of kiss. His tongue performed a divine work, which could easily have made me cum if I hadn't ordered him to take me first. He obeyed, stopped his delicious work, lay on top of me and slid into me. The orgasm nearly caught us, but we resisted. Not for long. A few back-and-forth movements were all it took for an implosion to shake me from head to toe. So that he pressed himself against me and a rattle of relief escaped his lungs. That night, we have slept together. And we did it again, after diner.

It was the start of a new era, rich in lovemaking, laughter, cuddles, tenderness and demonstrations of love. We loved each other fully, sincerely and openly. Remaining hidden in plain sight was suddenly impossible. We wanted all our loved ones to know the truth, so that we could stand hand in hand in front of them. One of us had to make a choice, however: to leave the BAU. I left for anti-terrorism. My ability to speak several languages and my previous travels were an asset to this brigade, which looked beyond American borders.

Then, a year later, when we felt enough time had passed, we decided to expand the family. Jack was clamoring for a little sister, Aaron was feeling more comfortable in his role as a father and, since I'd met him, I was reconciled to the idea of becoming a mother. I wanted children. I wanted his children. So we did what we had to do, and a month later the miracle happened. I was pregnant. Nine months later, I gave birth to a marvelous daughter. A princess with black hair, hazel eyes, and a snub nose. The perfect mix of Aaron and me. A unique creation named Alicia.

Alicia Autumn Hotchner. Alicia, since that was the name Haley would have liked to give her daughter if she'd had one. Autumn, because her big brother had suggested naming her that (so that her little sister born in August would feel integrated with her autumn-born relatives). And Hotchner, because that was the family to which she and I now belonged.

___

Thanks to the members of the Hotchniss Discord server who help to find the right name for their baby girl! ^_^

#hotchniss #criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #smut #angst #jack hotchner #momily

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the-queen-and-the-king · 2 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 28 (end)

Summary: Morgan is now leading the BAU for two years and Emily has an announcement to make to him.

Characters: Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan (mostly)

Contents: good news and a tiny little arguing (because Derek still doesn't like Hotch).

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

Emily climbed up the ramp to the office that once belonged to her current fiancé. The space was now occupied by her colleague and friend, Derek Morgan. In their day, the two men regularly locked horns in it, the latter criticizing the former for being far too harsh on unimportant points and keeping things to himself that he should have shared with his team. But it turned out he wasn't so different from Aaron after all. He, too, would nitpick over trivial matters and hide certain information from his peers so as not to worry them. She'd always thought they'd had trouble cohabiting because they were too similar in character, and this was proving true every day.

However, the female profiler moved towards the door with an amused smile. She had some news to break to her superior, and she knew he wouldn't like it. Not because he would resent her, but because he would project his resentment onto her companion. Despite the passage of time and the fact that all the signals were right for the couple, he persisted in thinking that she deserved better. His morgue towards the former director still ran under his skin, and he sometimes had very epidermal reactions when one of them dared to compare him to his predecessor. As if he hadn't, in spite of everything, taught him a few tricks for leading a team without perpetually bullying its members. Something his pride would prevent him from admitting, even under torture.

She knocked on the door and Derek looked up from the mail he'd received. A warm smile instantly appeared on his face.

“Can I bother you for a moment?”

“Please, go ahead,” he urged her, pointing to the chair in front of him.

Emily sat in, noticing for herself that, curiously, he hadn't changed much of the original decor. Unlike Dave, who had turned Jason Gideon's entire office organization upside down, the ex-policeman had contented himself with modifying the photos, displaying his own awards and – she knew – keeping some of Penelope's colorful, heartwarming gifts in a drawer. Everything else was strictly identical to what her companion had left behind.

“You want to tell me something?”

“Yes,” she confirmed nodding.

She had rehearsed countless times in her mind what she had to tell him, and tested different approaches, but the most direct way was the one she preferred. Even if it meant giving him an uppercut to the face.

“I’m listening,” he declared, unsettled by this sudden silence.

“Well, Aaron and I have decided to expand the family.”

He immediately looked up to the sky, dejected.

“Again?!” he exclaimed, outraged.

“Yes. At the same time, Lila is two years old, so we can't say we're chasing our tails either.”

The decision to take the plunge again led to further reflection on the part of the couple. Indeed, although everything was going well with their daughter, Jack loved looking after her and they were both reassured about their ability to raise a child despite their busy professional lives – her future husband was a university professor – the father was not as young as she was, and taking care of a baby and a child required a lot of time and energy. However, an external factor had helped them make up their minds. Haley had found the perfect match and given birth to a baby boy seven months earlier. This unexpected – but welcome – little brother was like a wake-up call for them.

Morgan sighed without discretion. The argument had hit the mark: there was nothing he could retort to that.

“Okay. Very well,” he abdicated, sitting back in his chair. “Just let me know when the... when the process starts. That I find someone to take over for you.”

Emily’s smile widened ostentatiously. She placed her hand to her stomach and continued:

“In other words, it’s already launched.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes. For three months,” she revealed, not without a certain pride.

Shortly after the arrival of Haley's second son, she and Aaron were quick to abandon all possible methods of contraception and do whatever it took to extend their line a second time. And despite the negative tests of the first few months, they persevered, multiplying their lovemaking whenever their princess would let them. Unknowingly, JJ and Penelope had contributed to their quest by babysitting the little girl a few evenings here and there. And then the miracle happened: her period stopped, and all the tests came back positive. But they hadn't really believed it until, at the first ultrasound scan, they saw that clear shape standing out in the half-light on the screen. A distinctive shape with a huge head and budding limbs, which had since morphed into miniature arms and legs.

Derek didn’t share her joy. On a contrary.

“Can’t believe it! Even when he's gone, he still manages to bug me.”

“You know he didn't make that decision alone,” she pointed out, uplifting an eyebrow reproachfully.

She really liked the man sitting opposite her, but she liked the father of her children even more. So, she tolerated attacks on him in small doses. Even more so when they were unfounded.

“Yes. Sorry,” he bent, holding up his hands. “I guess I owe you some congratulations.”

“Wait a little while for the little monster to show its face, and practice addressing them to Aaron too.”

“You’re the one doing the job.”

“True,” she conceded, “but in the meantime, Lila wouldn't be here without him, and neither would the tadpole doing somersaults in my belly.”

The fetus was too small for her to feel its movements, but it amused her to imagine it cavorting in the amniotic fluid. Morgan grumbled, reluctant to take that step forward on the path to peace. She decided to hammer it home.

“Anyway, you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that we're getting married.”

Derek’s jaw dropped. Emily restrained herself to laugh. No one knew of their engagement; Aaron having proposed shortly after her pregnancy became official. Whether influenced by hormones or the fulfillment of a crazy wish, she had said yes without a moment's thought.

“Is it true?” he managed to articulate, flabbergasted.

“Yes. But you've got a little time to get ready, as the ceremony is scheduled for after the birth.”

It was purely a question of logistics: she couldn't find the perfect dress with an abdomen that would triple in size in the coming months.

“Well, if you don't mind, I'll go and tell the rest of the team the good news,” she did, rising to her feet.

Derek didn’t react. He looked like he has been struck by a lightning. She left the office with an ear-to-ear smile. He had adopted exactly the attitude she had prepared herself for. Too bad she didn't have a camera handy to immortalize the moment.

“Can we know what you are so happy about?” JJ asked her from the bottom of the ramp.

Penelope was next to her, her octopus mug in her hand.

“Oh, yes!”

___

And this is the end! /o/ Feel free to post a comment if you like. I hope you have enjoyed the ride. :)

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #derek morgan

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the-queen-and-the-king · 2 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 27

Summary: It's time for Emily to give birth to the baby she made with Aaron. For the members of the team, one question runs into their mind: boy or girl?

Characters: the BAU team + Jack Hotchner and Jessica Brooks

Contents: pregnancy (remember, Emily is still pregnant... but not for long), very light angst, arguing and joy!

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

Penelope burst like a rocket into JJ's office, and she wasn't the least bit surprised by her sudden arrival.

“Did you get the message?!” she exclaimed, overexcited.

“Yes, I got the message,” replied her colleague calmly, amused by the energy she was showing so early in the morning.

Some people were walking to coffee, the BAU analyst was carburizing with good news. And the text message they'd both received augured, if all went well, excellent news.

“That’s it! It's the big day!” she continued to rave, waving her arms in the air – all her bracelets clanking violently. “Baby Hotchniss is coming.”

She had been dreaming of this announcement for weeks. She couldn't wait to see what the fruit of her two friends' union would look like.

“Hotchniss?” furrowed JJ, confused.

“Yeah. Hotchner plus Prentiss equal Hotchniss.”

Her colleague raised an eyebrow even higher.

“What?” growled the former hacker. “We don't know what it is or what they're going to call it, so we'll have to find a name for it in the meantime.”

It was true that from the start, the couple had maintained absolute secrecy about what Emily's womb harbored. They had tried everything to get the information out of them, but both were graves. Even the liaison officer, who thought she was in the good books of both, thought she could get a few crumbs, but to no avail. By now, they all knew the fetus by two names: tadpole or shrimp. Which didn’t help them any further. Garcia could have hacked into Prentiss's medical records, but a sudden surge of awareness had stopped her dead in her tracks. After all, as frustrating as the situation was, it wasn't worth invading the mother-to-be's privacy.

“Do you think Derek would let us go to the maternity ward?” she asked, a little less agitated.

“I doubt that,” winced JJ. “But you can always test the waters.”

From the outset, the new BAU director struggled with this relationship. He had great affection for Emily, with whom he'd always had an almost brotherly bond, but the same was not true of her companion. He didn't dislike Hotch, although the latter's behavior regularly got under his skin, but he didn't feel for him the way he did for the other members of the team. In fact, although he enjoyed seeing the young woman happy, he couldn't feel totally thrilled for her. Part of him stubbornly believed that she'd made a very big mistake by dating with him.

However, this did not dampen the enthusiasm of the computer expert, who entered his office without knocking.

“Derek, my chocolate angel…”

“No,” he cut her off without looking up from the report he was rereading.

“What ‘no’? I didn’t say anything yet.”

“Yes, but I received the same message as you and I know what you're going to ask me.”

His gaze locked with hers, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But Penelope had not said her last word.

“So?”

“The answer is no.”

“Why?” moaned the luscious blonde, tapping her heel on the wooden floor.

“Because we have no reason to go there at the moment.”

“But Emily's water broke!”

“Yes, and her baby won't be born for at least another fifteen hours. So, well after the end of the working day.”

His interlocutor wrinkled her eyelids, vexed that he should use factual information to spoil her fun.

“It can take a lot less time too,” she tried anyway.

“Yes, when there have been other deliveries before, which is not at all the case.”

His calmness in countering her arguments annoyed her even more than the words he used.

“Emily needs our support.”

“I don't think they'll let us all into the delivery room.”

Garcia sighed loudly and grumbled:

“You spoiled my groove.”

“Sorry,” he said, without seeming to mean it for a moment.

Her surprise guest turned around and left to find Spencer and JJ waiting for her in the bullpen. She dropped into the chair the parturient had occupied a few weeks earlier.

“Let me guess: he doesn't want us to go to the maternity ward,” her colleague advanced.

“No. He says, overall, we can go tonight, after work,” she mumbled, arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s not wrong. It easily takes more than ten hours to get the first one out.”

“Based on an average of seventeen hours, Emily should give birth around two in the morning.”

“I hate you both.”

The wiry blonde smiled; Reid frowned. The technician was boiling from the inside out, and seeing her colleagues take it so calmly only made matters worse.

“Do you realize that if we have a case falling on us, we're going to miss the first few days of the BAU’s third baby. And not just any baby!” she growled. “We’re talking about Hotch and Emily’s boy!”

“Or girl,” pointed out the youngest member of the unit.

“Well, all we can do now is pray that a case doesn't fall into our laps.”

Never had there been such tension on the sixth floor of Quantico. Every phone call, every e-mail received tensed the nerves of the agents, who felt their heart rate drop when they realized there was no emergency. Or that a simple oral or written notice was enough to solve the problem. A heavy silence hung over the team, who ate without uttering a word. Dave tried a bit of humor during the coffee break that followed, but to no avail.

From time to time, they received news from one of the parents, but nothing that warranted a trip to the hospital. The fetus was still snugly tucked away, reluctant to come out. Penelope sent them tons of encouragement to support them from a distance, but she felt terribly useless. She'd done all the updates she could on her computers, completed the tasks she'd set aside during the investigations, and didn't know what else to do to occupy her mind. It was almost five PM and it had been almost an hour since she'd received anything from either Emily or Aaron. Worried, she deserted her lair and entered JJ's alcove.

“Did you have some news?”

“Not since four PM,” revealed the mistress of the premise, tense.

“Do you think something happened?”

“This may be the labor that's begun.”

Which would explain why neither of them has the time to keep them informed.

“I’ll see Derek.”

And before her colleague had time to reply, she stormed down the corridor, pushed open the heavy glass doors stamped with the FBI seal, climbed the access ramp, and tumbled in front of her superior.

“It's been over an hour since we received any messages. JJ thinks Emily is in labor.”

The agency head looked down at her, waiting for her next thought. A sequel that never seemed to come.

“And?”

“Let us go!”

He rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat.

“Penelope, you're not supposed to leave the building for another hour and a half.”

“What do you want in the end?” she snapped. “That Hotch comes into the waiting room to discover that no one has shown up? That’s it?”

She glared at him, furious, and saw that her remark made him uncomfortable. Especially as he knew that his predecessor would have been much more forthcoming on the matter. He'd had proof of this with JJ, who'd had to make a hasty escape from Quantico well before the official schedule. He was even the one who took the cab to the maternity ward. Morgan sighed.

“Okay,” he conceded, defeated.

His subordinate raised her arms in the air victoriously, went around his desk to thank him with a kiss on the head and ran into the bullpen to spread the word. Less than two minutes later, the whole gang was stamping their feet in front of the elevator doors.

“I don't think I've ever seen them ready to go so quickly,” Rossi joked to the manager, who shook his head in disappointment.

Packed into two of their personal vehicles, they drove to the hospital as fast as the Highway Code would allow. It was not the time to be arrested. Luckily, they managed to park easily and then hurried to the reception desk.

“Lord! Tell us she hasn't given birth yet!” begged Penelope, taking the wind out of Derek's sails.

“Who?” replied the nurse logically, taken aback.

“Emily!”

“Prentiss,” clarified JJ, who envisaged that there could be more than one Emily within these walls.

“Ah, no. It's still in progress,” reassured the orderly. “But it won't be long now. You can move to the waiting room.”

They all thanked her, then ran down the corridor. When they reached the area where Hotch would meet them, they were cheerfully greeted by:

“Jack!” exclaimed the analyst, spreading her arms to receive him.

“Penelope!” he cried, jumping to her neck.

He waved just as energetically to the rest of the team before returning to his aunt's side, who had been watching the whole scene with a smile.

“Good evening, Jessica,” said the ex-policeman, giving her a brief hug.

“Good evening, Derek,” she replied warmly.

The same pattern was repeated with each of them, except Spencer, who simply raised his hand in her direction. She didn't insist, nor did she seem perturbed by his attitude. They didn't know much about Haley's sister, but it was obvious she knew things about them.

“Have you had any news?” questioned the liaison officer.

“Not since four PM. I only know that Emily is in the delivery room with Aaron and that everything seemed to be going well.”

She expressed herself with great serenity. In fact, she was clearly calmer than they were; probably because she was less emotionally involved in the event than them.

“Is Haley there?” Dave wanted to know after scanning the room in detail.

There was no evidence of anyone else's presence, but he preferred to make sure. A slightly embarrassed smile played across their interlocutor's lips.

“No, it’s… it's a bit complicated for her,” she said. “But Jack wanted to see his little brother or sister tonight, so here I am.”

“You don't know what it is either!” remarked Garcia, whom this secret had been nagging at for months.

“I don't think anyone knows except them.”

“It should be forbidden,” ranted the luscious blonde, who had raided the nursery departments of the stores, buying clothes in every color of the rainbow and with an array of unimaginable patterns.

Her friends and colleagues had contributed funds to keep her out to be up to her ears in debt, and had also made purchases of their own, in smaller quantities and more unisex designs. The parents-to-be had given no instructions, amused to see them trying to think outside the box to satisfy tradition without having all the cards in hand. This obstacle notwithstanding, the baby was going to be spoiled rotten no matter what.

“Hotch is on his way,” said Reid, whose tall stature helped him see over the crowd.

They all turned as one to see their former superior coming towards them, an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Daddy!”

His features immediately lit up and he knelt down to take his son in his arms. He was wearing a blue paper smock over his civilian clothes – which had little to do with his bespoke suits – but he'd got rid of his overshoes.

“How's it going, buddy?” he inquired, rising to his feet, Jack settled on his hip.

“Good. Where is Emily?”

The little boy, as impatient as the profilers, hadn't paused between his answer and his question.

“She’s all right. She’s in her bedroom. With the baby.”

If Aaron was aware of all the attention focused on him, he pretended very well not to be sensitive to it. His gaze was completely focused on his offspring, and he ignored the six pairs of eyes trained on him.

“Really?!” the toddler rejoiced, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, really. Do you want to know what it is?”

“We all want to know what it is!” exploded the computer expert, unable to hold out any longer.

Hotch, who hadn't even flinched at this outburst – unlike some of his former counterparts –, wore an expression that spoke volumes about the amusement he felt at this moment at making them languish like this.

“Okay. So, as you are very, very anxious to know,” he began without haste, “I invite you to follow me.”

“Where are we going?” worried Jack.

“See Emily. And the baby.”

“Yeah!”

With a total lack of discipline and discretion, the whole group moved to the front door of a bedroom, where Aaron knocked. Their colleague's voice gave them permission to enter. With their hearts beating wildly, they went into the room. The new mother was there, sitting up in bed, dark circles under her eyes and her hair still damp with perspiration, but with a radiant smile on her lips. In her arms lay a small form wrapped in a blanket. The only thing sticking out was the head, topped with a bonnet...

“I knew it! I've won!” exulted Penelope, glancing proudly at her comrades.

Dave was the only one who didn't feel targeted because he'd made the same bet as her.

“I knew I should have trusted the stats,” grumbled Spencer, who'd been swayed by JJ. “Nature always works in balance.”

“Yes, but you didn’t. Give me the money!”

“I hope we don’t bother you.”

The federal agents immediately forgot their accounts and got closed to the woman who had just called them to order, to offer her their congratulations, compliments, and encouragement for the weeks ahead. Throughout the procession, and despite the noisy outpourings, the infant remained asleep against the chest of the woman who had just given birth.

“Just look at this little marvel,” enthused Garcia, snapping photos from every angle. “I was right, though: you could only make beautiful children.”

“I want to see, too!” demanded Jack, still in his father's arms.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll leave it to you.”

The ex-hacker gave way and Aaron was able to approach in his turn. The kid opened his eyes as wide as saucers.

“It’s so small,” he observed, flabbergasted.

“Yes. But you were small too when you were born.”

“But Emily had a big belly!”

Everyone smiled at this reflection, even the principal, who had become accustomed to the boy's outspokenness.

“It was because there was a lot of water inside. So that the baby can do lots of flips.”

“Oh!” commented the toddler, fascinated. “What’s the name, then?”

All ears perked up in unison. It was a crucial moment.

“Emily, it's your turn,” urged her companion with a grin of satisfaction.

They guessed that all this had been carefully prepared in advance by the couple, but they refrained from making the slightest remark. They were too hung on their friend every word for that.

“Well, let me introduce you our daughter, Lila Jane Hotchner.”

___

One more chapter to go and it'll be the end of the story. :p

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next (and last) chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/788138199689084928/a-little-piece-of-paradise-28-end?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #penelope garcia #derek morgan #david rossi #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #bau team

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the-queen-and-the-king · 2 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 26

Summary: It's Aaron's last day as the director of the BAU and as an FBI agent, the time for him to say a few words about the people who worked for him all those years.

Characters: the BAU team

Contents: pregnancy (remember, Emily is still pregnant), angst, sadness, bad pun, mention of alcohol, but also pride and joy and smile.

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

Despite what Emily could tell, this week had flown by at the speed of light. Friday had finally dawned on him, and here he stood in this office he was about to leave, for the last time, in just a few hours' time. He had answered the last e-mails this morning before his entire mailbox was transferred to that of his successor. His weapons were returned to the federal armory, and his badge and plate were returned to the security center. In the days leading up to it, he'd already started clearing up, taking Jack's photos and creations home, his personal awards, a few trinkets, and the bottles he'd been given. Everything he now had to box up would go to a basement room dedicated to the belongings of agents who had left the department, before being destroyed: the plaque on his door, the display bearing his name on his desk, etc.

“Hotch,” called out a voice behind his back.

“Yes, I'm coming,” he said, turning to Derek. “All the current files are here.”

He pointed to the boxes piled up on the carpet, once stored in his cupboards, but whose arrangement he left to the free choice of the man who had just appeared behind him. It contained cases he'd handled jointly with Jason Gideon before they started recruiting other agents to help them. The co-founder of the BAU had disappeared without leaving any way of contacting him, so he was the only one left with a memory of these files.

“I put memos in all the ones where the suspect(s) are still at large. Same on the computer. The password is on the post-it under the keyboard and will have to be changed next week.”

“Hotch…”

“You'll see how to cross-reference your session with mine with the IT. All the passwords for all the platforms are in the directory there,” he continued, pointing to the object in question. “If you can't read my handwriting, ask Dave or Emily, they're used to it.”

“Hotch…”

“Ah, yes, the duplicate keys to the cupboards and boxes are in Penelope's office,” he remembered, barely. “There's so much junk in her place that I figured it was the best hideout in the world. Anyone would give up before finding anything.”

“Hotch, it's all right,” Morgan interrupted, putting a hand on his bicep. “Besides, you've already told me all this three times since this morning.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He had so much to think about and was so afraid of forgetting something essential in the rush to leave, that he was obviously harping on the same things. It had to be said, too, that there was nothing trivial about their profession, and his position remained a strategic one at the agency. Although JJ assumed his duties as a go-between for local authorities and journalists, he had kept the whole political and administrative side of the position to himself, and Derek couldn't do without it. As the man was not of the same character as himself, he had tried to slip in as many useful instructions as possible, so that he would not offend anyone, mistrust some or hesitate to lean on others. In short, that he doesn't fall into the traps in which he was once mired.

“I know everything's in tip-top shape, so I'm not worried,” assured the next manager, much more relaxed than he was. “And, just in case, I can give you a call.”

“Yes. And if I don't answer right away, leave me a message so I can call you back.”

“I know.”

“I already told you?”

“Yes,” he answered with a big smile. “Come to the meeting room, now. Everyone is waiting for you.”

While he worked out the final details, the rest of the team gathered in the conference room to organize their farewell party. Emily had gone to give them a hand and, looking at his watch, he grasped it had already been over an hour. An excruciating feeling seized his gut as he realized he'd never see this setting again for the rest of his life. He looked around and had the impression of discovering this office with a new acuity. It was as if he'd gone back six years and was setting foot here for the first time.

Then his brain reminded him that this place was only of secondary importance, that by quiting Quantico, he was losing even more. The vise tightened around his insides.

“… Derek, can I ask you a favor?” he began, fixing his gaze once again on his neighbor, who hadn't moved the entire time he'd maintained silence.

“To take care of them?”

“… Yes.”

A knot was blocking his throat. His men and women, who had worked under him for so long, were clearly dearer to him than he had thought; by leaving, he was abandoning them to their fate, and a terrible tearing sensation opened his chest. He knew, however, that Morgan was naturally protective and caring, so he would always keep an eye on them.

“That was the plan,” he confirmed.

“Be very careful with Penelope and Spencer, they're more...”

“Sensitive than the others, I know,” he cut him off again. “I’m a profiler too. And I'll keep an eye on JJ and Emily who think they don't need any help, and on Dave who still sometimes forgets to play as a team.”

Derek understood that he was trying to delay the fateful moment when he would have to leave this room and never return. By taking the wind out of his sails, he could have given the impression of wanting to kick him out, but Aaron thought instead that he was more concerned about the people standing a few yards away, who were probably wondering what he was up to.

“Meeting room. Now.”

The giant sighed, took one last look at his desk and, with a lump in his throat, walked out to the side of the man who would take his place. He progressed to the room where, all those years ago, he had sat with his kinds around the round table, analyzing photos, coroner's reports, police, and sheriff's reports; where he had listened to their first hypotheses and made crucial decisions that had saved lives or, on the contrary, sacrificed them. This time, he wasn't getting ahead of himself on such a serious subject, but anguish pulsed through his veins all the same. He wasn't afraid of what awaited him there, he was only stressed because every step he took brought him a little closer to the exit and pushed the heavy page of his story within the FBI.

When he entered, he was greeted by a shower of confetti and cotillions, as well as cheers and applause. The whole team was smiling, gathered under a large banner thanking him. Emily, more pregnant than ever, was the only one sitting on a chair, but she clapped her hands as energetically as the others. A wave of heat surged up his torso and his eyes burned instantly. His vision blurred for a moment, submerged by incipient tears. His lungs suddenly constricted. His companion must have noticed his confusion, for she rose from her seat, reached over, and slipped her hand into his. A familiar, reassuring touch that immediately eased his anxiety.

“Th… Thank you,” he managed to stammer, after a long breath.

“No, we wanted to thank you for everything you've done for us,” counteracted Penelope, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“For what? Putting all of you in danger every day?” he ironized, gradually regaining his composure.

“No, that's the job of sociopaths,” JJ grinned.

Derek had joined the rest of the group and they were all staring at him intently. This final reunion was a delicate moment for everyone, as they all knew that the next one wouldn't be happening any time soon – except on the day of the birth, which would take place in the coming weeks. So many memories and thoughts were running through the mind at the moment that it was difficult to untangle them all and extract what was important to talk about this day. The analyst was the quickest to jump in.

“Thank you for hiring us despite our strange resumes. Thank you for trusting us all these years. And thank you for looking after us for so long,” she finished, crying, her voice strangled.

He had to hold back to keep from hugging her. It would come, but he had to wait a little longer.

“We're going to miss you,” confessed Spencer, barely audible.

JJ and her neighbor nodded in unison in support of his words.

“I… I'm going to miss you too,” he said, struggling to control his emotions.

“I'll tell you all about it,” Emily declared, leaning towards him.

He smiled, amused. His partner's intention was to play down the situation, and this worked well enough to lighten the weight in his abdomen. Even with his past in the Bureau, she couldn't tell him the details of their investigations, which were all marked with the seal of confidentiality. On the other hand, she could expand on the hallway noises of the Quantico floors and thus keep him abreast of the latest gossip. Not that he was particularly fond of it, but it would save him from being completely left out when they next met.

He turned his gaze towards her, met her sparkling irises and warm smile, and was seized with a powerful urge to kiss her. But it was something they refrained from doing in public, even if the day's onlookers knew the nature of their relationship. Instead, he shook her hand briefly and she responded by imitating him. Then he turned his attention back to the group, more confident and ready to deliver the messages he'd prepared for each of his subordinates.

“… Thank you, all of you,” he began. “Thanks to you, JJ, for taking on half my work and for having the courage to face the pack of journalists all this time.”

The liaison officer immediately stiffened, and her eyes became misty. He tried to ignore it to get to the end of what he wanted to say.

“You… you do a terrific job and I challenge anyone to do it as well as you. Keep up the good work and take care of Henry and Will. The three of you will always be welcome at home.”

At first, the mother of the family tried to put on a brave face, as she was wont to do in front of the press, but tears quickly rolled down her chin. She stood straight as an I, but he guessed she wanted to hug him. But she knew he hated it.

“You're entitled to a hug, if you like,” he announced, aware that refusing it was cruel of him.

She rushed at him. Emily stepped aside to give her space and allow Aaron to have both hands free. JJ hugged him gently and whispered a “thank you” in his ear. A gentle warmth invaded him, and the unease that usually gripped his throat during this kind of embrace stayed in his corner, allowing him to enjoy the embrace to the full.

“Okay. You're all entitled to one hug each, no more,” he added nonetheless.

Everyone smiled, then JJ pulled away.

“This baby will be so lucky to have you for a dad.”

“We’ll see when they’re teenagers.”

The liaison officer laughed and stepped back to let him continue. His gaze fell on the youngest member of the assembly.

“Spencer, thanks to you for saving us hours of Internet research to find all the information you've got in there,” he said, pointing to his skull. “Thank you for your daily help and stay as you are. What you do is useful to society, don't let anyone make you think otherwise, even if you have the ability to do... whatever you want. And don't pay attention to anyone who might criticize your appearance or attitude. Tell yourself they're just jealous they don't have your brilliant mind.”

An expression of profound delight lit up Reid's youthful face as he straightened up. They'd spent so many evenings talking about everything and nothing before Emily came into his life that he knew these words would touch him and give him back the confidence he so desperately lacked. The big stile walked towards him but froze before doing anything. Neither of them enjoyed embracing – each for different reasons – but he spread his arms, offering him the choice of accepting or not. The multi-graduate finally gave in to temptation and snuggled up against his chest, taking refuge in his bosom as he had once done after being rescued from the clutches of Tobias Hankel. He even tolerated staying a little longer before breaking away from him and making room for the next.

“Penelope, you're probably the person I had the most trouble recruiting,” he admitted with a smile. “Not because I didn't want you, but because everyone above me talked me out of it. But I didn't listen to them...”

“Gosh!” said Emily, making everyone laugh.

“… and I insisted until they gave up,” he recounted, still remembering the interminable tug-of-war he had back then. “I guess they wanted to see me fail, but I was more than happy to prove them wrong.”

A smile of pride marked the ex-hacker's plump face, as happy as he was to have proved that appearances were not to be trusted.

“Over and above the fact that you're the centerpiece of the BAU, without whom our results wouldn't be as good as they are, you are... you're an incredible person. In every sense of the word. Everything you do is amazing and out of the ordinary, and I think that's why none of us has lost faith in humanity yet.”

A general burst of laughter followed his reply. However, he meant it. Given what they saw on a daily basis, they would naturally become more and more armored over time, until they were no longer capable of appreciating the beauties of the world, or worse, imagining that no human being was worthy of their help. But with her altruistic and benevolent demeanor, she regularly reminded them that not everything in their fellow creatures was worth throwing away.

“As Spencer, stay the way you are. Keep piling knick-knacks all over your office, keep pulling out totally unexpected stuff when you're called, keep disregarding the Bureau dress code and, above all, keep taking care of all those people.”

The fleeting thought that he would no longer see her waiting for him at the elevator exit when they returned from their mission to check that they were in one piece crossed his mind, squeezing his heart.

“Emily said the BAU would fall without me, but I think it's all down to you. I… I probably wouldn't be the man I am today if you hadn't been there to remind me how to smile and laugh. In my own way.”

Penelope burst into tears, unable to make a move in his direction. So, it was he who took the few steps that separated them to take her in his arms. He'd feared she’d be ready to drop every week, but she'd often proved much stronger than he'd expected and, more importantly, had more than once pulled him out of the slump he'd naturally fallen into. She'd been there when he'd had to leave behind the house he'd bought with Haley, she'd been there again when he'd taken in stride the realization that the suspects' profile resembled his own, and so on. She had taken better care of him than he had of her. And her wacky retorts – which horrified Strauss – had always been the breath of fresh air and lightness they needed to endure the drudgery of their daily lives.

“I love you so much,” she said, sniffing into his neck.

“Me too.”

“Keep smiling and laughing. In your own way.”

“Promise.”

She moved away from him, gave him a trembling smile as she cried some more, and rubbed his arm for a few seconds, as if to give him courage for what was to come. He then came face to face with Dave, who raised an eyebrow at him, his usual sneer at the corner of his lips. A curious sense of déjà-vu seized him. He hesitated and smiled.

“… Okay. It's a bit peculiar to tell you this when I've already done it a few years earlier when you were retiring.”

“It was a feint.”

Aaron laughed, in unison with the profilers around them.

“What I said then still stands, but I'll add that I'm glad you've joined this new version of the BAU. You'll be able to bring them the experience and cunning they're lacking.”

“I'll prepare a PowerPoint to train them.”

The group burst out laughing, more sensitive than ever to these humorous touches given the context.

“From now on, you're the oldest, and I'm counting on you to keep an eye on them.”

“Don't worry, I'll cover them in bubble wrap, so nothing happens to them.”

They laughed again, then both men fell into each other's arms, patting on their back. The manager thanked him in thought for not taking the moment too seriously. He had nothing to fear, however, as his mentor had taken care of him back then, in his own way, and would do so again with his cadets.

“Strauss is likely to be a little bored, so she'll be hanging around.”

“I've already planned to set wolf traps.”

“Perfect,” he commented, grabbing his shoulder.

Rossi distanced himself to allow him to continue his farewell tour. He came face to face with a visage he knew all too well.

“Agent Prentiss.”

“Agent Hotchner,” she replied with the same half-smile.

They watched each other for a long time, silently exchanging all the emotions they felt. There was undeniably a lot of love, but also tenderness and encouragement from the young woman. He also picked up on that characteristic little glow that suddenly motivated him much more to leave the premises.

“… We'll talk later,” he announced, his tone as neutral as possible.

“I can't wait,” she reacted, raising a mocking eyebrow.

“We're not disturbing you, aren’t we?” interjected Derek, grumpily.

“We’ll just talk. Right?”

“Absolutely,” confirmed Aaron, suppressing a smile.

The ex-policeman raised his eyes to the sky, triggering more laughter from his neighbors. The hilarity quickly subsided as everyone realized that it was now the next agency head's turn. The tensions between the two agents were no secret, and it was hard to know how the dialogue would turn out. The giant actually liked the officer a lot, more than he'd ever dare admit to him, and he had every confidence in his ability to take over; but he didn't know how he'd react to what he intended to confide in him.

“Derek…”

“Hotch.”

The Chicago native waited; arms folded across his chest. His neutral expression gave no clue as to what he was feeling at this hour. A deliberate impassivity that unsettled him somewhat.

“… Uh… I know we've never had an easy relationship.”

“Whose fault is that?” he growled; eyebrows furrowed.

“Derek,” Penelope lectured him, slapping him on the shoulder.

“What? He's the one bugging me to get my texts justified!”

“And he would have stopped bothering you if you had,” Emily pointed out, challenging him with her eyes.

“And I would have done it if it had served a purpose.”

“Say it if we're in your way,” he interjected, eager to get on with things.

“Sorry,” they apologized in unison.

He knew why his lover had come to his defense. She had asked him, out of curiosity, why in fact he demanded that the paragraphs of his subordinates' reports be aligned to the right as well as to the left – a rule not imposed by the Bureau. All his men had fallen into step, one after the other, except him. He was the only one, in a spirit of contradiction, to have disobeyed him through. But it wasn't that important in the end.

“Anyway, as I was saying, we've always, more or less – and rather more than less – had a very complicated relationship. Conflicting, even,” he clarified lucidly. “But I know that behind those muscles and kicked-down doors lies someone who cares deeply for those closest to him. So, I know I'm leaving the team in very good hands.”

He had to pause, suddenly overcome by emotion. Talking to Morgan wasn't just talking to one of the first agents he'd hired, it was passing the baton to his successor. So, it was hard. Very hard.

“You've got a great sense of humor, women really like you and you've got a lot of charisma, but you're also organized, square and straightforward. You don't like injustice and you'll fight every case with the same determination.”

His opposite’s shell cracked, weakened by his sincere words. Derek had always sought recognition for his qualities, and until now, for a reason he couldn't explain to himself, he'd refused it. But now it was done, and his target had been moved. The unit manager outbid him, touching on a crucial point for him.

“You'll watch over them until the end. They can rely on you as they did on me before. Perhaps even more easily than with me.”

“Hotch…”

“Nothing to do with the fact that I'm inexpressive, it's just that you're smaller. It’ll be easier for them to lean on you.”

Derek frowned, taken aback, and Aaron smiled at him.

“This joke sucks,” decreed his successor.

“Yes.”

They both laughed, as the others looked on moved and amused. He held out his hand and Morgan grabbed it to take him in his arms. The relief the titan felt spread to the spectators around him, and all the pressure that had reigned in the room a few seconds earlier vanished.

“Presents now!” exclaimed Spencer, ecstatic.

“Champagne first!” retorted Dave, serious.

“Don’t fight, we will take care of both,” he reassured them raising his hands.

And he put his words into practice, directing his attention to the center of the table occupied by a stack of wrapped packages. A bottle and some glasses stood by.

“That's my present!" trumpeted Penelope, pointing to the most colorful gift.

It was also the one with the most ribbon, the most glitter and heart stickers applied everywhere. He didn't know what was inside, but he had no doubts about its provenance.

“Yes, I… I guessed that,” he said repressing his urge to smile.

“We all did,” bounced Derek.

Everyone laugh, even the one concerned.

___

I always wanted Hotch to have a proper end and a real scene for his departure from Quantico. Now, it's done. :)

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/787501820109012992/a-little-piece-of-paradise-27?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #penelope garcia #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi #spencer reid #bau team

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the-queen-and-the-king · 3 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 25

Summary: Aaron's departure of the FBI is near and it's time now for him to put his resignation letter on Strauss's deck.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss and Erin Strauss.

Contents: pregnancy (remember, Emily is still pregnant), light angst, mention of alcohol.

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

Aaron walked down the corridor, his head full of a jumble of confused thoughts. He had his letter of resignation in his hand and was about to place it on his superior's desk. The emotions he was feeling at the moment oscillated between two poles. On the one hand, he knew he was doing it for a good reason: to ensure that his unborn child would have everything it needed for their well-being; but on the other, a nagging wrench was growing in his chest as the fateful date approached.

Despite its many drawbacks, he loved his job, he enjoyed his position, and he cherished his team. Finding the same fulfillment elsewhere seemed impossible, and he gradually resigned himself to spending five days a week, eight hours a day, doing a thankless job that gave him no satisfaction. He was also preparing to have to relearn everything from his colleagues, to force himself to apply what social conventions expected of him as a newcomer, and to pretend to ignore the suspicious glances and frowns of those strangers who would be unsettled by his weird behavior. He was going to have to memorize a new route, get his bearings back, re-establish his automatisms while managing an infant he would surely have to look after alone at times. And then he was going to unravel the ties he'd forged with his men, aware that they would naturally drift away from him as time went by, so that they'd only see each other once or twice a year.

These were all concerns he kept to himself, so as not to stress Emily, who still felt she should have been the one to leave. He reassured her that everything was going to be fine, that she didn't need to worry about it – her mind was already occupied with the impending birth – but he wasn't sure he could quite manage it. She knew him better than anyone and was not fooled by his lack of sociability and adaptability. He could see she was watching over him more than ever, spying on his reactions and constantly repeating that he was smart and good. Instead, he tried to divert her attention to their very near future, with varying degrees of success.

In fact, he wasn't feeling particularly serene at this hour, as the section chief's office loomed on the horizon. How was she going to react? He had imagined several scenarios, most of which involved her more or less ostentatiously savoring her victory, but anything was possible and, frankly, it didn't matter. All the steps had now been taken, and nothing she could say would change the content of this letter. The only thing that bothered him in the end was that he'd have to swallow his pride and take the glint of glee that would shine in her eyes. A scene he wished he'd never had to experience.

“Chief Strauss,” he greeted her, knocking on the half-open door.

She looked up from the document she was reading, raised an eyebrow and closed the pouch.

“Hotchner? What brings you here?”

“This.”

He stepped forward and handed her the envelope with her name written on it. She took it with her fingertips, cautious.

“What is it?”

“I leave you the pleasure of discovery. Have a nice day.”

He turned his back on her without further ado, ready to set off again.

“Aaron!”

The peremptory tone froze him in place, but he didn’t turn around anyway.

“Get back.”

Rolling his eyes, he obeyed and camped in front of her, stiff as a board. He had hoped to escape this face-to-face encounter. He wished he'd had time to go back to his own office, where he'd have known how to wait for her. Instead, he had to maintain his position in enemy territory and witness a spectacle that would displease him.

“What's this?” she asked, holding up the white rectangle as if it were covered in mud.

“Good news,” he replied with a mock sneer at the corner of his lips.

“But still?” she grumbled, not enjoying this guessing game.

He had no desire to make things easier for her, and even less to announce orally what he had already struggled to write.

“Open it and you’ll see. Let me reassure you, it won't do you any harm.”

She frowned and hesitated before finally trusting him. Grabbing a letter opener, she tore open the envelope, retrieved the letter it contained and read the subject of this unexpected correspondence. She immediately abandoned her reading and turned her gaze on him.

“Is that a joke?”

“No.”

She didn't seem at all pleased with the gift. On a contrary. Surprised, he tried not to show it.

“Why?” she wanted to know.

“I have found better elsewhere.”

It was a lie. He hadn't yet found anything to his liking, but the search was on. He was only keeping his fingers crossed that it would come to fruition before the baby was born. In any case, this was of no concern to the fifty-something, who continued dubiously:

“Better than the agency you founded!”

“Agents Rossi and Gideon founded the BAU.”

“Not as it exists today,” she pointed out, with good reason. “So, I ask you again: why?”

“I thought you'd be pleased,” he countered, evading the question.

“Pleased?” she repeated, confused. “Why should I?”

“You've been trying to kick me out ever since I took this job...”

“And you fought every time to stand up to me,” she rebounded, indignant. “Why give in all at once?”

Her astonishment was understandable – he would have had the same reaction as her if he'd been in her place – but he wouldn't give her the answer she was looking for.

“Maybe I'm tired of fighting every day just to do my job.”

“And you're ready to give up on the team you've been defending tooth and nail for years?”

“They're ground up, they can look after themselves,” he declared as his throat tightened.

She sat back in her chair, didn’t say a word for a moment and then, with wrinkled eyelids, said:

“And, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Agent Prentiss is due to give birth in a few weeks.”

“I don't see why there should be a causal link.”

“Are you kidding me?” she belched, sure of her deductions.

“No.”

She glared at him again and he didn't blink. Despite her great strength of character, she diverted her attention to an invisible point in front of her, and he observed some signs of unease in her. A situation he hadn't anticipated and didn't want to have to deal with.

“Can I go now?”

“Who will take over from you?” she asked, ignoring his request.

“It's not decided yet, but I know the names of at least two candidates. And, if it makes you feel any better, neither of them will make it easy for you.”

Strauss didn't appreciate the humor. Deep in thought, she remained silent for a long moment, biting the inside of her lip. For the first time since he'd met her, he saw her searching for words, undecided about what to do. Considering how aggressive she'd always been towards him he couldn't understand the origin of this sudden placidity.

“… Is there anything I can do?”

“For what purpose?”

“To make you give up this idea.”

He thought he'd misheard, but her expression was quite explicit. She seemed upset.

“Why would you do such a thing?” he inquired, not understanding her intentions behind the question.

She inhaled and sighed, leaning back on her desk in a position conducive to privacy.

“… Hotch, we've had disagreements, but I see your agency's results. Sure, you're expensive and your methods are off the tracks, but you're effective.”

“And this will continue to be the case after my departure. The good results didn't come from me, but from the team, and they'll stay in place,” he argued, confidently. “You don't need to worry about that.”

Clearly, this was not the answer she was hoping for from him. She looked even more defeated than when she started.

“Can I go now? I still have a bit of work to do before I leave.”

She nodded vaguely, not looking him in the eye, and he didn't linger. A little unsettled by the way the interview had turned out, he went back down to the sixth floor and to his own office. He immediately sent a message to Emily to tell her that he had accomplished his mission. He didn't even have time to put his mobile back on his desk pad before it started vibrating. It was his partner calling. He picked up the phone with a smile on his face.

“How did she react?” she questioned him at once, dodging all polite formulas.

“Not quite as planned,” he confessed, not knowing what to make of this face-to-face encounter.

“Why?”

“I thought she was going to break out the Champagne, but she looked... disappointed.”

He wasn't sure he'd found the right adjective to describe her attitude, but there was a bit of it. Except that he didn't see how she had a problem with him leaving, given all the dirty tricks she'd pulled on him since she'd been made branch manager.

“And yet it was what she wanted,” pointed out her companion, who had herself paid the price for this war of corridors.

“I think cutting her off was not what she had imagined. I guess she wanted to drag me out herself.”

It would have satisfied her ego like never before, that was for sure. By leaving on his own, he was depriving her of a pleasure she would have cherished for the rest of her life.

“Or maybe it was all a facade and she'll miss you,” Emily imagined.

“She's definitely going to have to find herself a new punching bag,” he continued, strongly doubting that she felt anything other than hatred or contempt for him. “But I'm not too worried about that, she'll find another one soon enough.”

His companion laughed briefly and asked:

“How are you doing?”

“I'm fine,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think I fully realize it yet. I… I'll do it at the end of the week, when I have to clear everything away for the next one.”

“I’ll be there to help you.”

“I'd like to remind you that you're supposed to lie still.”

From the outset, the profiler had argued that she would work until the end of her eighth month, even if it meant staying at Quantico, helping her colleagues from a distance as JJ had done when she was expecting Henry. But blood loss during the seventh month had prompted her obstetrician to arrest her and advise her, in the strongest possible terms, to remain bedridden for as long as necessary. Since then, she'd moved in with him – his apartment was on one level, unlike hers, which had a staircase between her bedroom and the living room – and spent most of her time commuting between bed and sofa, brooding over inaction. The weeks seemed interminable, and she did everything she could to escape this monotonous routine.

“As often as possible doesn't mean all the time. I could help you sort your pencils.”

“I can't wait to see you in action.”

Emily was an intelligent, beautiful, and empathetic woman, but in terms of organization and tidiness, she was his exact opposite. She easily left things lying around on the floor, piled up dishes in the sink for days on end, and accumulated documents randomly wherever there was room. He therefore had some difficulty visualizing her packing, especially with the imposing belly she now had. That said, he'd still appreciate having her by his side that day, if only so he didn't leave the office alone.

“Meanwhile, I can’t wait for you to come home. I’m bored.”

“Did you finish reading Spencer’s books?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” she scolded, not at all amused. “Especially from a guy who hasn't read them either.”

“At least, I tried.”

“I’ve seen that. And you slept very well on page two.”

He laughed and guessed her smile on the other end of the line.

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/786867638889545729/a-little-piece-of-paradise-26?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #erin strauss

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the-queen-and-the-king · 3 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 24

Summary: Aaron hasn't spoke to Haley yet about the fact that he's with Emily and even less that she's pregnant of him. It's now time for him to put things straight.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Jack Hotchner and Haley Brooks.

Contents: pregnancy (remember, Emily is still pregnant), arguing, mention of neglect, grudge.

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

For the first time they were together, Aaron was embarrassed to see Emily on his doorstep. Not that he didn't want her there, but the timing was pretty bad. Haley had to drop Jack off and she still didn't know about his romance with the female profiler. More than that, she didn't even know she was pregnant. Which was now more than obvious, her bouncing belly stretching the mesh of her tight top.

“What's the matter?” she asked logically, noting his lack of a smile.

He explained the problem and she retorted:

“Could be the right time to tell her, don't you think?”

“She’ll rip me off.”

“Yes, but it’ll be said at least.”

She challenged him with her eyes, and he sighed. She was right, this merry-go-round had gone on far too long. He'd had over a year to reveal to her that he'd gotten back together with someone, and he hadn't had the guts to do it. And now he had his back up against the wall and was going to owe her an explanation in the worst possible context. He felt his insides liquefy as the doorbell rang again.

“I won't be far away,” affirmed Emily, kissing him on the cheek before slipping away.

Aaron swallowed and headed for the door, his heart in his throat. The next few minutes were going to be difficult, but they were a necessary step in his new life with Elizabeth Prentiss's daughter. They couldn't fully pursue their journey side by side if they had to hide from his ex-wife. She gave him a friendly smile when he opened the door and greeted him as one would a local shopkeeper. He replied, trying to master the sound of his voice. Jack, strapped into his stroller, waved his arms in his direction, delighted to see his father again. To save a little time, he knelt down beside the toddler and kissed him on the forehead. The little boy took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his head. All under the impatient gaze of Haley, who didn't want to linger any longer.

“Is there anything I should know?” he asked, straightening up.

“Apart from a few stomach aches in recent days, nothing in particular. Avoid giving him anything too fatty or sweet to eat and he should be fine,” she added, planting her gaze in his.

She knew that he was a lousy cook and had no choice but to fall back on dishes prepared by others or ready-made meals for which he had no control over the fat or carbohydrate content. He nodded without retorting to this gratuitous attack.

“Is everything all right?” she then inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

He was about to reply that he had something to tell her when a noise behind his back caught her attention. One of the corridor doors had just slammed shut, perhaps sucked in by a draught, with the bedroom window open. But it couldn't have slammed like that if it hadn't been opened first. Perceptive, Haley realized it wasn't before she arrived.

“You're not alone, are you?” she questioned, in a stormy tone.

Despite the underlying threat, he decided to jump at the chance to reveal the whole truth.

“Well, I happened to want to talk to you about it,” he said, his heart thumping against his ribs. “I… I’m with someone indeed.”

“Someone you were planning to put in touch with Jack without telling me first?”

The reproach was obvious. He understood her concern, however, and didn't hold it against her.

“Well, he… he already has seen her, but…”

“Are you serious?!”

“There’s nothing to fear about, Haley. I promise.”

“I'll be the judge of that!” she spat, hands on hips. “Can I see her?”

“Yes.”

He flinched when Emily's voice answered for him. She had emerged from behind her hiding place and made no attempt to conceal her rounded belly. She was five months pregnant, and a loose-fitting top would have been enough to create the illusion, but she had decided otherwise. Haley immediately fixed her gaze on it and had the expression of one who had just been unexpectedly slapped.

“Is that a joke?” she growled at her ex-husband.

“Uh… no.”

Without warning, she turned her attention to the intruder and shouted:

“Are you aware that he's going to leave you to manage the baby on your own while he runs off to the other side of the country?”

This time, he couldn't ignore the spike and brandished an argument he hadn't intended to use, in order to nail her, at least for a few moments.

“I’m going to quit.”

She widened her eyes on the spot, speechless. Her irises leapt from him to Emily for several seconds, then she spoke again.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Language.”

She looked down at Jack, still secured in the stroller and listening to this exchange with a worried expression. The mother-to-be took the initiative and went to rescue the boy.

“Emily!” he exclaimed, jumping joyfully to her neck. “Why is your belly so round?”

“Because there’s a baby inside. But, come with me, we will talk about it in your bedroom. Your parents need to discuss together.”

And so, his son and his new companion deserted the battlefield. This didn't mean the two fighters could raise their voices, but they could agree on a less watered-down vocabulary.

“Haley…”

“Not only do you screw one of your employees, but you knock her up as soon as you sign the divorce papers!” she yelled, furious. “How long have you two been at it?”

Arms folded, she glowered at him. Up until now, she had always played the bad role in their relationship. She was the one who'd forced his hand to have a child, she was the one who'd taken advantage of his money, she was the one who'd had an affair and she was the one who'd asked to be separated from him; and he'd gotten off scot-free. Unless he, too, had a bit on the side.

“We are together for only a year.”

She raised her eyes to the sky, dejected. This clearly didn't dampen her anger, nevertheless, far from it.

“And what does she have that I don't have that makes you want to have a baby with her right away?”

“I didn’t accept on the spot…”

“Do you want me to remind you how many years I've been asking you for a child?”

A silence passed. The answer wasn’t in his favor. He therefore preferred not to insist on the semantics of her sentence.

“Look, I understand you're taking it hard...”

“Thank God for that!”

“… but Jack's arrival made me realize that, if I wasn't a good father, at least I wasn't who my father had been to me. I… I won't hurt Jack, just like I won't hurt the baby that's coming.”

Haley held back the remark that burned her lips. When he'd had to justify his reluctance to start a family, he'd told her about his unhappy childhood and painted a vitriolic portrait of Stanley Hotchner. His then-wife had insisted that he had nothing to do with his progenitor, but he had been unmoved by her words, convinced that they were motivated solely by his partner's desire for motherhood. She lowered her arms without taking her eyes off him.

“Okay. And… for her, you agree to quit the BAU, but not for me. Can you explain?”

She hadn't said too much when it was just the two of them, but when she'd started to round out, she'd started negotiating for him to ease up and be more present. Her arguments had become more insistent and offensive after the birth of their son, without having the desired effect. On the contrary, it had only poisoned the air in the home where he should have been looking to recharge his batteries.

“You said it yourself, she’s one of my employees. Our relationship is prohibited by Bureau’s regulation. If I wanted to recognize this child, one of us had to leave. The team made a choice and… she’s the one who stay.”

A glimmer of empathy appeared in his ex-wife's eyes. He had no intention of pitying her; it was just a matter of facts. The vote has spoken.

“And… what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” he confessed, still hesitating. “I could become a lawyer or take up a teaching post. It’s… maturing.”

Haley sighed, unsettled by the whole thing. He held back from hugging her to reassure her. She had stopped staring at him and was biting her lower lip, prey to an inner questioning.

“Where… where did I fail?” she wished to know, confused.

“Nowhere. It… it’s just simpler with her.”

Jack’s mother looked instantly outraged. He rushed to pursue his explanation.

“Wanting to protect you from what I saw and heard every day, I chose not to tell you. Because I wanted you to keep your joie de vivre and not be afraid to live your life. Because I... I needed your lightness.”

It might sound silly, but he'd loved discussing totally innocuous subjects with her on the way home from a mission or Quantico. It had been the breath of fresh air he needed for his mental stability.

“But, in doing so, it was made clear to me – afterwards – that you might have interpreted this as a lack of trust on my part or, worse, as a lack of consideration. As… as if you were too stupid to understand.”

She nodded imperceptibly.

“That wasn’t my intention, I’m sorry. I… I just wanted you to be happy.”

Looking back, he realized what a complete failure his venture had been.

“Emily knows what I go through every day, so I don't have to worry about keeping the truth about the world we live in from her. She knows it as much as I know it myself. That… that’s it.”

A new silence fell and settled for a moment. He stared at her, but she dodged his gaze, analyzing his words and thinking about what she was going to say. She finally nodded softly.

“When… when is it due?”

“In four months,” he declared, relieved to see her more relaxed.

“Jack is going to be thrilled. He keeps asking for a little brother or sister.”

He noticed the bitter note in her voice.

“What's stopping you from giving it to him? I thought you wished many children.”

She didn't answer right away, and he knew he'd put his foot in it. He wanted to signal that she didn't have to say anything, but she opened her mouth again.

“First of all, I'm not Emily's age and, secondly... not all men are as... honest as you.”

He guessed she was hurt and felt uncomfortable. He had sincerely hoped she would find someone who would at least allow her to realize that dream.

“You’ll find it,” he affirmed. “I’m sure of that.”

A pale smile played across her lips, and she exhaled loudly to keep her emotions under control.

“Congratulations to you both,” she said, without a hint of irony or sarcasm.

“Thank you.”

They looked at each other, smiling, a little embarrassed by this new situation.

“I… I'll go get Jack so you can say goodbye.”

“Yes,” she agreed, delighted that he'd changed the subject.

Aaron returned to the bedroom with a light heart. His mission had been accomplished and had gone much better than he had expected. Once again, he'd worried for nothing.

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/786233478229458944/a-little-piece-of-paradise-25?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #jack hotchner #haley brooks #haley hotchner

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the-queen-and-the-king · 3 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 23

Summary: This chapter directly follows the previous one.

Characters: The BAU team

Contents: pregnancy (remember, Emily is still pregnant), angst, sadness (yes, this chapter is not funny).

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

Emily accompanied her lover into the adjoining office with a lump in her stomach. What they were about to experience would mark a turning point in their shared history, and she couldn't stop her insides from twisting around each other. Aaron seemed sure of the turn events would take, she was far from thinking the same. She didn't know the BAU co-founder as well as her partner, but she couldn't ignore his cunning side, which made it difficult to predict his reactions. Nevertheless, she had no other solution to offer in exchange for resolving the problem that was consuming them and would continue to gnaw at them until it was solved.

“Dave,” his superior called out, knocking on the open door.

“Whoa!” he said, dropping his pen on the desk. “You're coming on strong, and I don't like that. What’s going on?”

As usual, he had a sneer at the corner of his lips, attesting to his serenity. She doubted he'd keep it at the end of their discussion.

“Aaron would like you... to do something for both of us,” she explained, trying to smile.

The elder squinted.

“O… okay. One asking for something for the other. So, you disagree with him.”

“Dave,” she growled.

This was no time to be a profiler. Not usually patient, she was even less so at this hour when the professional future of her partner and herself was at stake. And it went even further than that, since depending on the new position of the person leaving, the home they would acquire would not be the same, just like the neighborhood they would live in, the school their child would attend and the studies he or she would pursue. So much would be decided in the next few minutes that she couldn't wait any longer.

“Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“Dip your hand in there, grab one of the papers and tell us what's written on it,” Aaron declared, handing him the federal mug he held in his hand.

It was the only container they could find. Neither wore headgear nor drove vehicles requiring helmets.

“What? Are you hesitating about the baby's name?” smiled Rossi, amused.

“No, we've already established that,” assured Emily as the name passed through her mind.

“Have you established what is it too?”

“Yes.”

“Can I know what it is?”

“No,” replied the giant, who hadn't moved.

The whole team pestered them to find out whether the fetus was a girl or a boy, but they decided to remain silent, savoring this little secret they were still keeping to themselves. After the official announcement of their relationship, they had felt horribly exposed and had needed to rebuild the barriers between them and their loved ones to avoid the feeling of their intimacy being invaded. They had been forced to release some private information in order to recover some ballast but had carefully padlocked everything else. In fact, it was out of the question for them to pass up this opportunity to protect what was most precious to them. And it didn't matter if it drove their friends crazy.

“Tell me and I'll do whatever you want.”

“Dave,” annoyed Aaron, shaking the cup he was holding at arm's length.

“If that's not the baby's name, then what is?” questioned the interested party, raising an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction.

“Pull out a piece of paper and you’ll know.”

“Good thing you said he wouldn't make a fuss...”

“Emily, please,” he said, glowering at her.

He didn't like the situation any more than she did, and he wanted it to end as soon as possible. What's more, she was well aware that he was dreading having to change all his habits; his anxiety was already galloping through his veins at the prospect. It was a huge sacrifice he was willing to make for the sake of their baby.

“I refuse to do anything if I don't know what you're getting me into.”

Rossi crossed his arms over his stomach and waited, looking determined, for the explanations to sink in. She exchanged a glance with her companion, and they sighed in unison. As she'd feared, the former team member wasn't letting up. Aaron continued to watch her, hoping for a gesture from her.

“It was your idea,” she immediately reminded him.

He was more stressed than he cared to show, and she wasn't helping him by making him face up to his responsibilities, but the fact was that the plan came from him. He nodded, took a long breath in and out, then unrolled his reasoning in front of the man who'd hired him eleven years earlier. Dave's grin disappeared from his lips, as did his customary joviality, and his eyebrows furrowed as his cadet pursued his presentation.

“You're telling me you were going to stake your career on the name I would have drawn from this mug. That’s it?”

“… Yes,” he hesitated, sensitive to the novelist's firmer tone.

“Aaron, you can’t do this! How… how did you think I was going to react when I found out why I'd done it?” he exclaimed, flabbergasted.

His former disciple recoiled. He lowered his eyes, not knowing what to say to that. Emily had expected this reaction and totally understood it, but her lover hadn't analyzed the situation from this angle. However, she was moved by his pain and intervened to justify his act.

“We… we can’t make up our minds.”

“Yes, I understand that, and it's a difficult decision to make,” said Rossi, calmer, “but you can't go ahead like that, behind the backs of the whole team!”

“What do you want us to do?” asked the titan, bewildered.

“Let's ask everyone's opinion.”

“They’ll never want to vote,” she objected.

“Openly, no. But if we ask them to vote anonymously, they'll accept.”

“And how do you expect them to vote anonymously?” replied Aaron, perplexed.

“Give me a minute.”

Dave swiveled in his chair to face his computer again, opened a spreadsheet and entered their first name five times. He then started printing, got up to fetch the document and cut the sheet into ten small strips of paper. All this as the couple looked on in amazement, wondering why they hadn't thought of it themselves.

“Here it is. Now you'll gather everyone in the meeting room to explain and let them vote. We'll count the results when they've all gone through the ballot box.”

The parents-to-be looked at each other, chatted without opening their mouths, and shrugged their shoulders, realizing they had no better idea to propose.

“Okay.”

“I'll get everyone together,” said Emily, stroking her companion's arm before leaving the room.

The profilers, who had noticed the whole thing and were wondering what was going on, obeyed her injunction obediently, eager to be taken into their confidence. They were disillusioned, however, when Aaron revealed the problem they were facing and told them about the strategy he had put in place to remedy it.

“What? No!” Penelope refused immediately, her eyes shining. “There has to be another solution.”

“We've already thought of all the possibilities, and we'll only be able to hide as long as we continue to work together. Which isn't... ideal,” she concluded, restraining herself from taking her companion's hand in hers.

There were security cameras all over the building, so any sign of affection between them was to be suppressed. The manager's office was the only place on the floor that was spared, along with the toilets.

“I'm sure I can forge the birth certificate you give to HR. Like this…”

“Penelope,” interrupted her superior, “we don't doubt it for a moment, but I don't feel like doing anything illegal. If this ever got out, we’d all be fired.”

Including the technician, which would also complicate her life. It was unlikely that she would find a position where she would be allowed as much freedom as she currently had at the BAU. She could dress as she wished, decorate her den as she wished, indulge in words far beyond the bounds of propriety without being reprimanded and, notwithstanding the fact that she saw horrible things every day, she did what she loved to do.

“But who would take your place?” worried Spencer.

“Someone appointed by the Committee,” answered Aaron. “Or one of you, if one of you is motivated to take the job.”

“If so, would he or she have your recommendation?”

“Derek!” lectured JJ, slapping his shoulder.

“What?”

Morgan had reacted with a smile, as if his question shouldn't be taken seriously, but Emily knew that this official recognition of his qualities by her companion was important to him. When he was offered the position of New York branch manager, he didn't appreciate Hotch's failure to send a letter in support of his candidacy.

“Of course,” nodded the unit leader. “Listen, if the result of the vote was to make Emily the winner, I wouldn't blame you at all. All I ask is that you take good care of her.”

This remark cast a chill over the assembly. That he should take for granted the fact that no one wanted him made them uncomfortable, and she felt like counterbidding with a similar speech to counterbalance, but the luscious blonde cut her off.

“I can't do this,” she insisted, shaking her head vigorously.

“Penelope, it's an anonymous vote,” her colleague reminded her. “No one will know who voted for whom.”

“But we’ll know!”

“You’ll know for you. You don't have to discuss your choice afterwards,” stressed the man without whom she could never have joined the FBI. “And, once again, I wouldn't blame you.”

They all exchanged anxious glances. It was an uncomfortable situation for the whole team, but none could see an alternative that would allow their counterparts to stay in their place without jeopardizing their relationship as a couple.

“And… you… when would you leave?” stammered JJ, whose eyes were also shining.

“A month before birth. For both of us.”

Very quickly, the calculation was made in their heads, and they realized, shocked, that only four months separated them from the new face of the BAU. It was as if he or she had just announced that they were leaving tomorrow.

“You have the day to make your decision.”

To illustrate his point, he placed an urn made from archive cardboard in the middle of the meeting room table and handed out two tickets with their names on them. He left the room first to return to his office, and Emily watched as her peers gradually left to return to their own seats. She sat down again a little later, but not without glancing at the empty box that would decide their fate for them. She couldn't help but observe the surroundings as if she wanted to imprint as many memories of this place as possible before she had to say goodbye. With one hand on her belly, she prayed for a miracle.

Silence hung over their heads in the open-plan office all day. A reassuring thought crossed her mind when she realized that none of the group was taking this decision lightly. Dave was the first to cast his ballot, but it took almost two hours before the next one came forward. The last was the analyst, and she cried as much on the way out as on the way back. She heard her mumble that it was unfair and rude. Then evening fell, and while much of the floor had already emptied, they gathered in the conference room for the countdown. Tension was palpable. Aaron took it upon himself to open the box. She stood beside him, her heart pounding against her sternum.

“Good. Let’s start. Let's see the first vote...” - he picked up a piece of paper without looking and immediately unfolded it, before saying: “Hotch.”

She smiled, relieved to hear there was at least one voice for him. She had been so afraid that everyone would gang up on her partner – confirming his assumption that no one liked him – that she was glad he'd been wrong. Her colleagues spied on each other out of the corner of their eyes, surely trying to guess who had made this choice. Their superior paid no heed and continued.

“Next. Let’s see… Emily.”

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She scratched her neck nervously, mentally crossing her fingers that all the other votes wouldn't be in her name.

“Then… Emily.”

“Guys...” she began, fixing her gaze on the troop.

“Emily, it's all right,” assured her companion, picking up another piece of paper. “Here, look, it balances out. Hotch.”

He showed her the note to prove he wasn't lying, to cheer her up. But she only managed to produce a strained smile in return. A knot tightened in her throat, and she felt nauseous. Her legs trembled, threatening to buckle under her weight.

“It's a good thing there are five of you, otherwise the problem still hadn't been solved,” joked Aaron.

“We want to keep you both,” retorted the luscious blonde, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I know. But that's impossible,” he said, his tone almost too cheerful. “Let’s see the last one…”

He retrieved the paper in question, unfolded it and gave a discreet sigh as he lowered his head. Emily hadn't dared glance over his shoulder to see, anxious to discover the final verdict. He turned slightly towards her and handed it to her. When she read her own name, she immediately began to cry. Hurt by the rejection of her partner – who could no longer speak to announce that he was leaving – she wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss on his cheek. He didn’t react, his gaze turned inward.

In other circumstances, she would probably have savored her victory, but there was nothing festive about what had just happened. She blamed herself terribly for having been privileged at Aaron's expense, for being the one left behind. So much so that she had the sudden urge to follow in his footsteps, to leave with him, to accompany him in this upheaval of their daily lives. But she knew he wouldn't appreciate the gesture: he'd understand her reasons, but he'd refuse to let her jeopardize their financial equilibrium in this way when they were about to become parents. And he wouldn't stand up against the collective will to see him no longer in charge of the unit.

The voters understood the result and moved closer to the loser. Dave, Penelope, and JJ locked him in their arms, ignoring his usual startle. Spencer came up to him too, but his phobia of germs and natural aversion to contact kept him at a distance. Still, he gave a contrite smile to the man who had trusted him so far, despite his physical shortcomings and his difficulty in aiming his firearm accurately.

Derek, biting his lower lip, remained in the background throughout the effusions, fists on hips. Emily guessed that he was one of those who had voted for her. Despite the sadness she felt, she held out her hand to encourage him to join in the general embrace. He probably regretted his choice, seeing its consequences first-hand, but she knew he hadn't made it on a whim based solely on his affinities. So, he had nothing to reproach himself for. Aaron was just a victim of chance.

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/785599282249154560/a-little-piece-of-paradise-24?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #bau team #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia

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the-queen-and-the-king · 3 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 22

Summary: After an unexpected visit of Strauss, Aaron realized that he can't continue his relationship with Emily like he was doing until then. A decision has to be taken.

Characters: Erin Strauss, Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner

Contents: pregnancy, arguing (they're not yelling at each other, they just have a disagreement on some points), angst.

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

Aaron was trying to make sense of an e-mail full of spelling and grammatical errors, when a voice burst out next to him:

“Hotchner!”

He turned his head to discover who had just entered his office without knocking, and his eyebrows furrowed further.

“Chief Strauss?”

His superior squinted evilly, and he immediately noted her clenched fists. She was angry, but it remained to be seen why.

“When were you going to tell me that Agent Prentiss was pregnant?”

So that was it, he thought, turning his attention completely away from the screen to focus on her. That very morning, Emily had gone downstairs to the HR department to announce her pregnancy and launch the recruitment process to replace her during her maternity leave. As it could take months to find the right candidate, it was essential to plan ahead. And four hours later, the result of this procedure was revealed before his very eyes. He had expected her to arrive earlier but blamed her delay on a staff meeting that had prevented her from making her scene beforehand.

“I didn't know it concerned you,” he said, unrolling the strategy he'd devised for this moment.

“Prentiss is part of the BAU, which is one of the agencies I'm in charge of,” she reminded him sharply. “So, yes, it concerns me.”

“And, obviously, you already know all about it.”

“No thanks to you!” she thundered, coming closer.

The door was still open, and the blinds were up, so anyone in the bullpen office could hear or see what was going on, but that didn't seem to bother her too much. Very calmly, he settled back in his chair.

“It’s not my place to tell you. In my opinion, it's up to the main person concerned to do so.”

“As if you weren't concerned too,” she grumbled, resting her hand on her desk.

She had spoken much more softly, aware that all ears around her were pricked in her direction. A toothy grin stretched her thin lips. He didn't let this throw him off balance. His partner was four months pregnant, and their two salaries were more than enough to buy what they needed to welcome their child in the best possible way. He couldn’t afford to be fired now.

“I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“Don't play games with me, Hotch,” she replied, shaking her head. “You were seen leaving the building together on several occasions.”

“Prentiss is not recommended for driving. In turn, we take her home.”

“I didn’t specify when.”

Painful as the section chief could be, she was nonetheless an intelligent woman, and she'd obviously anticipated this response from him. He didn't know how good she was at chess, but she had just devoured one of his pawns with disconcerting ease.

“What are you getting at?” he asked, controlling the sound of his voice.

“Do you know who the father is?”

The attack was deliberately frontal. She was trying to disconcert him so that he would make a mistake and open a crack in his defense. She hoped to be able to insinuate herself into it to obtain the victory she had coveted since he had been in this position.

“Agent Prentiss wishes to keep this information private, and I respect her choice.”

“Of course,” she agreed, straightening up.

She lowered her voice again and turned her blue irises on him.

“So let me get straight to the point: if ever, on the birth certificate that Agent Prentiss has to provide to HRD after giving birth, the line for the father is blank, I'll assume it's you. I'll leave you to ponder the implications.”

Which he didn't need to do, since he'd already thought of it, countless times since he'd attended the first ultrasound. Management would have no trouble sacking him. Not only did the brass share Strauss's view of the way he was running the agency, but even if he denied having any connection with the new baby, all they had to do was demand a paternity test to reveal the plot. In truth, Emily wouldn't even need to do it for their lie to collapse, the mere fact of refusing to do it would say more than the test itself.

“Have a nice day, Hotchner,” said the fifty-year-old with a sly grin.

“Have a nice day, chief Strauss.”

His adversary left the room and then the floor, he imagined, with conquering strides. He felt despondent. From the moment his lover had expressed the wish to start a family with him, he had known they were on a slippery slope. Relationships between agents were prohibited, and there were no special privileges granted. Even less so when the two people were not of the same rank. Add to this the fact that he had virtually no allies above him, and he could already consider himself out.

It was a scenario he had considered, however, and he wasn't surprised that Strauss was so attentive to the administrative documents the future mother would provide. It was a particularly delicate situation for which he had found only one solution. He didn't like it, and his partner wouldn't like it either.

“What did she want?” questioned the latter, appearing in his office in turn.

“To know who the father was,” he declared, unsurprised to see her there too.

Emily frowned, then retraced her steps to close the door. She then returned to the chair opposite him.

“… And what did you say?”

“That I didn’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“Why did she ask you that?”

“Because we've been seen together.”

Panic immediately flashed through her dark eyes.

“… Wh… what does that supposed to mean?”

“We were seen leaving Quantico together. But I don’t know by who and I don’t know when.”

She raised her eyes to the sky and swayed her head.

“These are just rumors, what do you want her to do?”

“She said that if there was no father's name on the birth certificate, she would consider it to be me.”

The profiler immediately froze in her seat, losing the confidence she had briefly regained. She must have felt, as he did, that a knot was gradually closing around their necks. They had played with fire, and now it was time to pay for their effrontery.

“… Are you kidding?”

“She didn’t seem to be joking.”

“And…” - she hesitated, searching for words – “didn't it occur to her that I might have slept with a guy, without protecting myself, and that he left before even knowing I was pregnant?”

“A lovely portrait of you.”

“These things happen every day, Aaron.”

True, but he didn't like the idea of her spreading such a rumor about her. There was no denying that this kind of gossip would travel far beyond the human resources floor. She would quickly become the debauched, irresponsible woman behind everyone's back. Which he would find hard to bear, so far from reality.

“I didn't really have time to argue,” he revealed with a sigh.

Emily stood up, lowered the blind in line with his desk and settled onto his thighs. She wrapped her arms around his head and kissed him on the cheek. He could have girded her in turn, but his mind was absorbed by what was taking shape beneath his skull.

“Listen, don't worry about it,” tried to reassure her partner. “She's not going to kick you out based on gossip.”

“Did I ever tell you she hates me?”

“Aaron, she's not the only decision-maker,” she stressed, taking his face between her palms.

“If she can get the Committee to hear that I'm sleeping with you, they'll side with her, and I'll be out of here before I can pack.”

“Well, I'll talk to her,” she said, stiffening. “I'd say I've had a bit of a night out and...”

“No.”

She looked at him, intrigued. His tone had been particularly firm. More than he would have liked, but he'd gotten what he wanted: her attention.

“Why, no?”

“Do you realize that I can't recognize our child?”

“You'll do it later,” she shrugged.

“When? When I retire? It’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

Federal agents were required to turn in their badges at the age of fifty-seven – how Dave had managed to rejoin the ranks of the Bureau was a mystery he couldn't explain. He was about to enter his forty-fifth year, which meant he had twelve years to wait before he could officially declare the fetus his own. It was an eternity, and tons could happen in that time.

“Aaron…”

“Emily, you realize that if something happens to you in the meantime, I will have no legal rights to our child. It’s your mother who’ll be in charge. If she wants to.”

This was no easy task either, as Elizabeth Prentiss was still an active ambassador who traveled the world all year round. She hadn't particularly cared for her daughter in the past, so it was hard to imagine her taking care of a child that wasn't hers. Which his companion knew as well as he did.

“… I don’t have to let anything happen to me.”

“Emily…”

Their job was dangerous. Any member of the team could be targeted by one of the suspects they were tracking. Even Penelope, whom he'd thought safe in her lair, had taken a bullet to the chest because of what they accomplished on a daily basis. His neighbor's shoulders slumped as she completed her reasoning.

“… What do you want to do?”

“One of us has to leave.”

“What?” she outraged. “No, that sucks!”

He noticed the tears that had begun to form at the edge of the eyelids of the woman he loved. She was hurt, shocked by this suggestion and, as he had predicted, rejected it outright. But it was the only way to solve the problem. They couldn't risk sending a forged birth certificate to the HRD; after what Strauss had just told him, no doubt she herself would phone the town hall to compare this document with the one that had been officially registered. Once the fraud was uncovered, they would both be out of work. Which wasn't ideal with an infant on their hands.

“I know, but we don’t have much choice. Our relationship is forbidden by the rules.”

“But… can’t we get an exemption? Something?” she inquired, obviously worry.

“No, Emily. There’s no entitlement here.”

“As if we were the only ones,” she grumbled. “Let me remind you that Penelope is banging the fourth floor's IT guy.”

“I know, but we are the only ones to know it. And if they want to go further, they'll be as stuck as we are.”

Her dark irises swiveled to the side, searching for a new argument she could use against him. He saw her instinctively bring her hand up to her mouth to chew her nails, before pulling herself together without him needing to do anything. Instead, she placed her fingers on her belly and her eyebrows furrowed even more. He could almost see the wheels of her brain turning at full speed, proposing a whole range of alternatives, each as unviable as the next. He knew because he'd been there before.

“… But I want to keep working with you,” whimpered Emily, who had reached the end of her thoughts.

“Me too,” he said, wrapping his arms around her chest, “but... I can't recognize this child, I can't claim responsibility for them if something happens to you, I can't bequeath them anything if something happens to me, and it'll be the same for any other children we may have. And we can’t get married.”

“You want to get married?” she bounced right back, flabbergasted.

When he'd started looking for a way around the problem that stood in their way, he'd first thought of the being building inside his partner's womb. Then he realized that this would also apply to other possible stages in their life. The wedding was one of them since it was a piece of information the HRD liked to know.

“Not… not right away, but... if we feel like it, we won't be able to do it,” he stammered, understanding her surprise. “Not officially. It’s… Is that what you want?”

“… No,” she confirmed after a long pause.

“So, one of use has to leave.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Who?”

“I was thinking of doing it.”

It wasn't a conclusion he'd come to light-heartedly. He loved the work, even if the physical and psychological repercussions were damaging. His profession was useful to the society in which he lived and in which his children would live in the future. It helped save lives, lighten the burden of victims, and allow families to grieve. It would have been a lie to say that what he saw and heard every day was getting to him, but keeping in mind that he was acting for the good of the community meant he didn't flinch.

By joining the BAU, he'd been able to feel that sense of accomplishment that eluded him when he was a prosecutor, and he was certain that by leaving the FBI, he'd lose it again. Unless he became a policeman, but his missions would be less exhilarating than those he followed with his team, and he wouldn't have the free rein he managed to get in his current position. He would be subjected to pressures and protocols that would eat away at him faster than the backlash from his Bureau investigations. He'd have to relearn how to live his life, which was no mean feat for him, but at least he'd have a clear conscience about his unborn baby.

“No! Why, you?” she rebelled immediately. “Why you more than me?”

“I'm the reason all this is happening.”

“It was I who kissed you first.”

“And I said I loved you right before.”

“Insisting that it was okay if I didn't feel the same way.”

Clearly, he hadn't forced her hand or multiplied his advances to get her to agree to go out with him. It was a decision she'd made in her soul and conscience, and he simply hadn't put it off. Because he didn’t want to. He'd loved her, for a long time, and he'd been happy to find that the reciprocal was true. Still, if he'd wanted to do things by the book, he should have asked her to leave his office that evening and made sure they didn't work together anymore. But that wasn't what he'd done. He'd asked her for another kiss and taken her home to sleep with her. And they had repeated their deed the next day and in the days, weeks and months that followed, until they had reached the point where they were now up against the wall. In any case, given his status and gender, he was sure all the responsibility would fall on him, no matter what Emily would say in her defense.

“Aaron, why do you always have to be the one to sacrifice yourself?” she questioned, taking his face in her hands again.

“The team needs you. You have skills that nobody else has.”

“And we need you too.”

“For what? To force you to submit your reports on time?”

“No. But you have a past as a prosecutor. Your legal knowledge is higher than that of any other team member.”

“And when has it ever been used?”

She opened her mouth to retort but changed her mind immediately. Logically, she had no idea since there was no example to cite. Yes, he knew the laws of the country and regularly kept abreast of their evolution, but even when called to the stand to intervene in the judgment of one of their suspects, this knowledge was useless. When…

“Emily, your language skills, cultural knowledge, and diplomatic connections are far more useful to the unit than all my knowledge of the Law. I mean... everything I know is written in there,” he assured, pointing to the shelves behind him, cluttered with Law books. “All you have to do is turn the pages.”

“It’s still faster if we ask you.”

“For what we do, any of you already knows what it takes.”

It was the truth. Until then, he'd never needed to brief his men before a trial; they'd always made do with the lawyers' instructions and their own common sense.

“But you are the director of this agency. You hired us, you brought us all together, you're the reason Quantico hasn't gone up in flames because of our stupidity.”

“Like I said, I'm here to bug you.”

“No, you're here because it takes someone to keep this place standing. If you leave, everything will fall apart in no time. “

He understood exactly what she was getting at. Only, up there, it had no value. His superiors would never agree to let him stay at his post just because he was magnanimous with his subordinates and took the damage for them. It was exactly what the bigwigs didn't want him to do.

“Emily, this team really doesn't need a manager to function. A simple bureaucrat will be more than enough to sign your cheques at the end of the month.”

“But a bureaucrat won't let us work as freely as you do. JJ and Spencer told me how it went when Strauss took over and it was a disaster. She had everyone on edge in no time.”

When she had laid him off and strongly suggested that he be transferred to another agency, the section head had the curious idea of accompanying the team into the field. The aim was surely to spy on the profilers and tighten the screws he'd never bothered to tighten. The result was not at all what had been expected.

“They rejected her presence even before they took the jet.”

“I'm not just talking about us. I'm also talking about the police officers who asked us for help.”

Where he had always taken care not to impose the presence of himself and his men on the local authorities, waiting for them to be officially requested and following the procedures in place in the area, Strauss had arrived on conquered ground, forcing the forces of law and order to obey her directives. Directives which, moreover, made no sense.

“Bureaucrats don’t belong in the field. The next one will just have to stay behind his desk, and you'll carry on working as you always have.”

“You know very well it won’t work that way.”

There was little chance of that, indeed. Traditionally, decision-makers – rarely aware of the realities in the field – observed the results of their units, focusing only on the financial aspect. How much did it cost them? How much had they earned? All the rest: the time spent, the resources deployed, the personnel involved...; none of that mattered in the slightest. And when the gains didn't compensate for the losses, they made arbitrary decisions without regard to whether or not they would benefit the teams working out of the office. And while some agency heads stood up to support their subordinates, many folded without question, satisfying the egos of the brass who rewarded them accordingly. The former despised the latter, who thought no less of them.

So, he knew perfectly well that this suggestion wouldn't hold water with the way the BAU worked, but his original point still stood.

“I maintain that, of the two of us, you're the most useful to the agency.”

A silence passed over the room, during which they stared at each other, determined to stick to their guns. Neither of them wanted to leave, just as they didn't want to see the other quit either. They loved what they did, they loved the people they worked with every day, and the pace of life they'd gradually adopted suited them too. But they couldn't go on indefinitely, as their child needed the best guarantees to develop fully. However, solving this problem could only be done at the expense of the well-being of one of them.

“Okay. We'll have to find another solution.”

“There is no other solution, Emily.”

“I'm talking about a solution to decide which of us should leave,” she clarified. “The two of us won't be able to convince each other.”

It was very unlikely, given the stubbornness of which they were capable. This conversation was irrefutable proof of that.

“Let's ask the team to vote.”

“What? What's wrong with you?” she exclaimed, looking at him dumbfounded.

“What? At least it will be a collective decision.”

By asking everyone's opinion, they would be sure to meet the wishes of the majority, which always led to less tension than presenting a fixed conclusion without giving the people concerned the opportunity to express themselves.

“Aaron, we're not going to ask our friends to choose between the two of us.”

He had omitted this “detail” from the equation, but now that he thought about it, he realized that it might indeed trigger some reactions of total rejection of the protocol. To tell the truth, apart from Derek, who would surely vote to keep Emily without blinking an eye, everyone else was going to put the brakes on.

“What if I promise not to sulk if they choose you?”

“Aaron…”

His companion had a point. None of them – or almost none of them – would openly select one of them before their very eyes. Even if their affinity was necessarily towards one or the other, favoring one member of the couple would impact their relationship with the disqualified one. But there was a way around the problem.

“… Let’s leave it to chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let's put our names on two pieces of paper and ask one of them to choose.”

“No one's going to want to do that,” asserted his confident partner.

“We don't have to explain the purpose of the maneuver,” he objected, understanding that to explain the context was to make a choice between them.

“That's even worse!” declared Emily, appalled. “Can you imagine Penelope's state of mind if we told her that she'd just decided which of us would leave or stay on the team?”

The analyst's empathy was through the roof, and she'd cry her eyes out for days on end, or, conversely, go into a rage that would come back to haunt them. She would feel betrayed, wounded, hurt to the core of her being, and she could no longer trust them.

“Let’s not ask her. Let's ask which of them will be best able to take the news.”

“… And who do you have in mind?”

Spencer wouldn't take the information any better than the former hacker. He had a sensitive nature and was just beginning to stand on his own two feet. Making him make this choice would take him down every rung of the ladder he'd painstakingly climbed to build himself. JJ had as much sympathy for Emily as for him, especially since Henry's birth. She knew she could count on him to understand the worries she was going through as a family manager. And as the only two female members of the team in the field, the two women naturally stuck together. Morgan would have no trouble admitting his preference for his colleague, but the method would strongly displease him, and he would rebel against its principle. As for the latter, he was his mentor but regarded the profiler as his daughter, whom he watched over carefully. There was an emotional investment in him, but certainly not on the level of the others, and he knew how to stand back from the situation.

“Dave.”

His lover watched him, then looked away, thoughtful. With her hand resting on her belly, she in turn pondered the possibilities open to them and their implications for their immediate future and the balance of the unit.

“If you have another idea, I'd love to hear it.”

She took a deep breath and sighed sadly.

“… No.”

“Well, let’s do this.”

“This is not going to end well,” she moaned, worried.

“Don’t worry. Besides, it's for a good cause,” he added, placing his hand over hers.

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/784964479100338176/a-little-piece-of-paradise-23?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst #erin strauss

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the-queen-and-the-king · 4 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 21

Summary: Aaron has spend five days on the other side of the country for a meeting with all the agency managers and Emily is eager to finally spend the evening and the night with him. But the giant is not alone actually.

Characters: Emily Prentiss, Jack and Aaron Hotchner

Contents: pregnancy, nightmare and that's all, I think. The text is mostly fluff. ^^

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO

___

It was the weekend. Almost. It was Friday night and Emily didn’t want to stay alone. Aaron had spent most of the week in another FBI agency, for an annual meeting with all the other directors – the bigwigs apparently found it interesting to do it in a different place every year. This time, the meeting had been held in Los Angeles, and she had found it harder than ever to cope with the time difference. Why that country was so big?

Fortunately, he'd ended up back on the East Coast a handful of hours earlier, and she couldn't wait to hear the sound of his voice. He had sent her a text message on the phone she used only for their private exchanges, away from the prying eyes of the Bureau, but she was at a court hearing at the time and so hadn't been able to reply. And now that she was back home, she could hardly wait to melt into his arms. Five days without being able to look at him, touch him or listen to him was too much.

So, she dialed his number, and he picked up after just two tones.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Hello, Emily,” he answered in a very formal tone.

She frowned, surprised by the coldness of his welcome. She'd hoped to put a smile on his face after the endless week he'd spent on the task he hated most, but it was a failure.

“’You okay?”

“Yes, and you?”

His retort had been a hint more avuncular, but it had nothing in common with the way he spoke to her when it was just the two of them. Her brain came up with a hypothesis that might explain his attitude.

“Are you alone?”

“No, Jack is with me.”

“Ah, yes!” she remembered suddenly.

She'd been so focused on the fact that she didn't get to see him for a long time that she'd forgotten it was his weekend on call.

“Who’s it?” asked a tiny voice in the background.

“It’s Emily,” told his father, calmly.

“Hello, Emily!” shouted the little boy, probably from the other side of the room.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said in a reflex.

Aaron repeated her words and resumed their conversation.

“You’ve got something to tell me?”

“Moreover, I wanted to be with you.”

She refrained from adding that she didn't feel like waiting another two days to come and slip into his sheets. She'd missed him too much for that.

“Wait,” he did, before taking the handset away from his mouth. “Jack, will you be happy to see Emily?”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“She’s coming here?”

It wasn't the first time she'd been present at the same time as the toddler in the unit manager's apartment, and she had a very good connection with the little one, who looked at her with stars in his eyes. But officially, she was just one of the agents working for her sire. The child's innocence prevented him from understanding that there was anything more than a professional relationship between the two of them.

“Yes. She ran a pretty rough case and she needed to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because, when you've got a lot of thoughts running around in your head, it's good to talk to someone about them,” he justified peacefully. “You feel better then.”

Aaron always took the time to explain the behavior of the people around his son, without ever getting annoyed. He was extremely patient in the face of his offspring's many questions. She heard Jack agree.

“So, do you want her to come?”

Her lover never imposed her presence on his descendant, and she understood perfectly well why. She was not related to the boy, and her union with his ascendant remained unofficial. The little boy had every right to demand to be alone with his father. And, although she felt her heart tighten, she mentally prepared herself for his refusal.

“Yeah!” exclaimed Jack. “Emily is so cool!”

A soft warmth invaded the interested party's chest, and a delighted smile stretched her lips.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes. I’m on my way.”

“We are waiting for you.”

She hung up feeling like jumping up and down to let her joy explode. Instead, she rushed to her room to pack her bag. She froze in her tracks when she met her gaze in the full-length mirror of her closet. Her pupils immediately went down to her belly. The tight top she was wearing enveloped her nascent roundness. From the side, it was even more striking. But was it obvious to her because she knew about it? Or would it be obvious to the little boy too? In order to preserve secrecy, she changed into loose-fitting clothes that would give the illusion. She only hoped it wouldn't be too long before her partner told the truth. In a month's time, it would be difficult for her to hide it so easily, if she took into account the weight she was gaining every week.

In the car, she prepared herself for what was to come. As much as she longed to curl up against the chest of the man she loved, she knew that as long as Jack would be around, she'd have to resolve to keep her distance. Until he went to bed, she wouldn't be allowed to touch him, kiss him, or tell him how much she'd missed him. She would have no choice but to behave as if they were just colleagues. At this thought, she felt a movement in her abdomen. It had been furtive, nothing more than a trail of bubbles, but she had been identifying these signs of activity better and better over the last few days. The fetus was still just a shrimp, but it was already clearly expressing its opinion. A thought that made her smile.

“Emily!” exclaimed her tiny host, running over to her.

She crouched down to take him in her arms and placed a kiss on his temple. He responded with a peck on the cheek before declaring that he was so happy to see her. She assured him it was the same for her and rose to greet Aaron as formally as possible. He was surprisingly better at it than she was, despite his poor lying skills and disinterest in hypocrisy. But running an FBI agency for years, shaking more hostile than friendly hands, forged effective automatisms, aided by his diminished expressiveness and monotone. But she saw in his eyes a gleam that spoke volumes about his desire to be alone with her. Taking advantage of the boy's momentary inattention, she winked at her father.

As she had imagined, the whole evening was devoted to fulfilling the little boy's wishes. They ate what he had wanted to eat. They let him monopolize all the speaking time, commenting from time to time to allow him to bounce back. Aaron made a few corrections here and there, which didn't dampen his son's enthusiasm. Then he chose the film: Lady and the Tramp, which he watched leaning against the bust of his father. Emily was sitting on the other side, watching her miniature neighbor's reactions more than the screen. She felt sorry for him during the final chase, when he rolled into a ball in the giant's protective embrace. He had tears in his eyes, and she could see his body trembling with fear.

“Hey, everything is fine. It's all right,” soothed the tenant, stroking his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Is he dead?” he asked in a weak voice.

“No, look. He’s there.”

The boy dared to turn his head towards the TV to see the Saint Hubert reappear, limping but alive. His good humor returned to his face, and he detached himself from his father. She herself was overcome with relief. She didn't know if it was the hormonal changes or the strengthening of her relationship with her partner, but she was more sensitive than ever to Jack's emotions.

“Well, it’s time to go to bed,” noticed Aaron.

“No, it’s time for the story,” corrected the kid.

“True,” conceded his father. “But what we do first?”

“Teeth and wee-wees!”

“Exactly. Run to the bathroom, I’ll meet you there.”

The imp jumped off the sofa, said good night to his guest and cavorted through the other rooms of the apartment. His sire also got up without following him. He watched him rush down the hall to his room to collect his pajamas. Then he turned his attention to her, and her heart leapt in her chest. He leaned towards her, and they kissed tenderly. She would have liked the moment to last longer, but that was impossible in such a context.

“See you later,” he whispered, brushing her cheek.

She nodded with a smile and held his hand in hers for a few seconds. This simple contact had awakened the cruel lack she felt at not being able to have more at the moment. But she had no choice. Impatient by nature, she had to wait in the living room until the father-son duo had finished their ablutions, so that she herself could get ready for the night. There, she joined Aaron's double bed and forced herself to wait while he read his son's bedtime story. She herself tried to read, but the printed words soon made no sense. Inwardly, she stomped her feet.

She was therefore delighted to see her companion appear in the room. He instantly approached her and placed his lips on hers. She took hold of his face delicately and prolonged their kiss as long as possible. A delicious sensation rose from her lower abdomen. He moved away from her, and she reluctantly let him.

“Are you both all right?” he inquired, brushing against her navel.

“Yes,” she confirmed, delighted.

She'd been afraid that this pregnancy would tear them apart – just as Haley's had spelled the end of their marriage – but it wasn't to be. He took good care of her and regularly asked her about the embryo's health. A behavior that made her even more in love. He smiled, kissed her again and said:

“I’m back soon.”

“We are waiting for you.”

It amused her greatly to say this kind of phrase, and he found it just as funny, judging by his hilarious expression. However, he left the room to go to the bathroom, the toilet, check the lamps, the windows, and the front door, then came back to slip under the comforter next to her. They kissed, long and slow, renewing the bond they'd broken during those days apart.

“How are you?” she asked, as they stopped to catch their breath.

“Exhausted,” he confessed, sighing. “All this pointless blah blah is distressing.”

She ran a hand in his hair, smiling.

“Politics still not your thing.”

“And I hope it never does.”

Their mouths met again for a few moments.

“Do you mind if we don't do anything tonight? I've missed you a lot, but I'm not sure...”

“I don't mind,” she cut him off immediately.

She knew that this kind of event, which required pushing all the cursors of social codes to the limit, drained his energy at breakneck speed. She was surprised that his eyes were still open.

“You know what?” she resumed. “We'll even wait until Monday to get together fully.”

Aaron’s irises glowed intensely. He kissed her tenderly and added:

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, her cheeks burning.

It wasn't the first time they'd made this kind of confession to each other, but it was still very occasional, so this formula always held a form of magic for her.

“Oh, I've got to tell you,” Aaron announced, suddenly serious, “there's a good chance Jack's having nightmares tonight.”

“Because of the cartoon?”

“Yes. He mentioned it to me several times during the story. He's very concerned about it.”

She struggled to imagine what frightened children and what filled them with wonder, as the line was sometimes very blurred. She hoped to understand it before their baby was born, so as not to inadvertently traumatize them.

“Will you let him sleep with us?”

If her companion was mindful about respecting his son's boundaries, he was equally attentive about her own. And he knew from experience that spending the night with a child was no picnic.

“Yes, don't worry,” she agreed, sincerely.

In thought, she pointed out that she'd have to get used to it, since the fruit of their union would surely want to do the same with them.

He smiled, kissed her, and pulled his pillow closer to hers so that he could sleep with her against him. For an outwardly very non-tactile man – he dodged Penelope's hugs whenever he could – he constantly provoked physical contact between them. And it ranged from brushing her hand as he retrieved the object she was holding out to hugging her until the wee hours of the morning. This didn't bother her at all, since she slept better when he was around than when she was alone. Even more so since she was pregnant with his child.

She placed her book on the bedside table, turned off the light and curled up along his chest, intertwining her fingers with his. Then she closed her eyes and fell asleep almost as quickly. But as he had predicted, Jack woke up a few hours later. She didn't hear him call right away. She emerged as Aaron lifted himself off her and kissed her cheek. She groped for the light switch and took her time before opening her eyelids to get used to the brightness. Her lover returned the instant she dared open an eye.

A rush of empathy washed over her when she saw the little man clinging to his father's T-shirt, tears rolling down his red cheeks. With his thumb in his mouth, he looked as if he'd been through a terrible ordeal. Aaron lowered him gently to the ground and said:

“Go join Emily. I'll get you a story in the meantime.”

The toddler didn't negotiate and ran towards her. She greeted him with her most reassuring smile and lifted the comforter for him to crawl under. He nestled right away under her arm, his head on her breast. She just had the reflex to protect her belly so he wouldn't press on it unintentionally; but he just clung to her top and sniffed. She girdled him tenderly and kissed his forehead. His hair was damp; he must have been sweating from fear.

“Don't worry, sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” she affirmed, rocking him slowly.

She didn't know if she was making the right gestures, letting her instincts guide her in this area.

“Nightmares are bad! I don't like it,” grumbled Jack, stuck to her.

“No one like it. But that one's gone, it's not coming back.”

“Do you have nightmares too?” he asked, raising his brown irises at her.

“Yes, it happens. Like everyone.”

He looked disappointed. Perhaps he imagined that adults didn't have this kind of unpleasant experience. She couldn't lie to him about it, not even to appease him.

“It’s nothing, it’s not the reality. It's just your brain knitting together stories from everything it's seen and heard during the day. And sometimes it looks like nothing or it’s very, very ugly.”

A short burst of laughter erupted from the kid’s throat. Clearly, the vision of his brain armed with knitting needles amused him greatly. Just then, Aaron reappeared with a colorful little book in his hand. She recognized the cover of Elmer the Elephant.

“I bring you this, is it okay for you?”

“Yes!”

He held out his hands to retrieve it and his father gave it to him before going round to lie down on his side of the bed.

“Come over here so I can read it to you.”

“No, I want Emily to do the story!”

The two boys looked at her with the same questioning expression, their common spike ruffling their hair on the back of their heads. And then her partner would argue that he wasn't related to him, she mused, mentally shaking her head.

“Ok,” she replied, interested in the challenge.

“Cool!”

Jack curled up against her side, fully alert, while his progenitor put his face back on the pillow. Under the comforter, she felt his hand land on her thigh. And so, she set about reading about the adventures of this unusual pachyderm, his variegated skin standing out in the jungle where his gray fellow creatures looked at him sideways. As the story was relatively short and the listener was wide awake, she added new twists and turns to the text, which delighted her young audience. Conversely, her companion had fallen into the arms of Morpheus in no time at all.

“Shh,” she advised Jack. “Your daddy’s asleep.”

He chuckled, his hands over his mouth to hide his mocking smile. His nightmare was now far behind him.

“Emily?”

“Yes, sugar.”

“Would you like to be Daddy's girlfriend?”

She fluttered her eyelids, surprised by this out-of-the-blue question.

“Wh… why are you asking me this?”

“Because Mum says Dad can't live on his own. That he needs a girlfriend, so he doesn't get all sad. And I don't want Dad to be all sad.”

She'd only ever heard Aaron's version of how their separation came about, but clearly, despite her grievances against her ex-husband, Haley hadn't divorced him with a fierce hatred of her spouse – as sometimes happened. Emily rather understood that she could no longer bear to live in constant fear of not seeing again the man she loved every time he left for work. This fear had been exacerbated after the birth of their son, but her husband had failed to understand her pleas and to soothe her anxieties. However, she wasn't unaware that without help, Aaron was in more danger than ever. In danger of forgetting himself and slowly withering away. So yes, as hard as it was to conceive for a big guy over forty running an FBI agency, he needed someone by his side.

“And why should it be me?” she asked, curious.

“Because you already come here often, with us, and I love you very, very much.”

A wave of heat emblazoned her chest. Such a spontaneous statement from him brought tears to her eyes. She was smiling so hard it was hurting her zygomatic muscles.

“Well, you know what?”

“What?”

“I’ll talk to your dad tomorrow.”

“Great!”

She laughed, placed a kiss on his forehead and continued reading. She felt like she was living a waking dream.

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/784329519463088128/a-little-piece-of-paradise-22?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #jack hotchner

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the-queen-and-the-king · 4 months ago

Text

A little piece of paradise - 20

Summary: Emily is pregnant but she doesn't want the team to know. Hotch agrees with this decision and to keep the secret. But it's not an easy task when you manage the best team of profilers of the whole country.

Characters: JJ, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss

Contents: fainting, mention of pregnancy and pregnancy side effects, anxiety, a bit of medical talk (not that much because I'm no doctor).

This text will be an AU with a sudden canon-divergence. I wrote it when I was rewatching the show, so many chapters will be directly related to some episodes of season 4. There will be 28 chapters.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

___

“She's pregnant,” declared JJ, moving to Hotch's side.

The latter, facing the evidence board, scrutinized more closely the photos pinned under his nose, in particular those of the last victim whose body had still not been found.

“There is no proof of that. What makes you so sure?”

“I’m talking about Emily.”

Aaron froze and hurried to direct his attention away from the liaison officer. His companion was anxious to keep the information secret, and he had no intention of betraying her on this point. JJ rolled her eyes and resumed:

“You haven't worn perfume since we got here and you teamed her up with Spencer, who, of all of us, must have the least powerful perfume. She doesn’t drink coffee anymore, but tea. She didn't want to come to our girls' night out last Friday. And the other day, I saw her eating things she normally refuses to eat,” she listed with a wry smile. “Do I go on or it’s enough?”

“Please don't tell the others,” he replied, forced to abdicate.

“Why? It's great news,” she said, happy for the couple.

He looked at her knowingly and she understood.

“Emily wants to tell us herself.”

“Yes.”

She mimed a zipper on her lips, but her expression of joy remained. Since she knew he didn't like hugs, she simply touched his shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you two.”

“Thank you,” he reacted, blushing.

“Do you already know what it is?” she enquired, curious.

“Not yet, it’s too soon.”

“Does Jack know?”

“No,” he confessed lowering his nose. “Haley doesn’t… doesn’t know for me and Emily. If she finds out from Jack, she'll take it very hard.”

He knew he had to talk to her but hadn't yet found the opportunity or the courage to tell her the truth. Her reaction would undeniably be explosive. She had argued for almost twenty years to get him to have a child with her, and in just one year he had – voluntarily – impregnated his new partner. Since she wouldn't dare attack the mother-to-be, all her anger would fall on him, and rightly so. This prospect didn't enchant him, and consequently didn't motivate him to do what was necessary.

“I see,” commented JJ soberly, sketching a grin. “If you need anything, I’m there.”

“Okay.”

He thanked her with a nod, then they got back to work. An hour later, the other members of the team reappeared at the police station, discussing what they had discovered. Ideas and arguments flew back and forth between the profilers, and Hotch tried to stay attentive. Which he found very difficult to do, knowing that the secret of the woman he loved was out. JJ was behaving as usual, which avoided raising any red flags with her colleagues, but he couldn't help observing her doings, while spying on Emily's too. That's when he noticed that she wasn't feeling well.

Eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, she regularly rubbed her temple with her fingertips and her eyelids fluttered far too often. So, when she stood up – perhaps to fetch water – he was ready when her legs gave way abruptly under her weight. All the agents left their chairs in a hurry, but Aaron, who had remained standing by the blackboard to take notes, was quicker than them and broke her fall before her skull hit the floor.

“Emily,” he shouted seeing her unconscious. “Emily!”

He heard someone calling for help, his foggy mind unable to analyze the voice he must have known. Hands rested on his shoulders, and he was surely addressed, but his attention was so focused on his partner that he was now cut off from the outside world. He hugged her, holding her face to his chest, using his immense build to protect her from danger. He wasn't doing the right thing in such a situation, but the rational part of his brain had gone haywire the second he'd seen her collapse. Only his instincts spoke, and by now he was nothing but fear and anguish. He was so afraid of losing her that no logical or sensible thought passed through his head.

“Hotch, doctors are there,” we said. “Leave her.”

He flinched when someone tried to spread his arms. He abruptly snapped back into reality. Derek was kneeling beside him, visibly worried. Probably more for Emily's sake than because of his reaction, given their brotherly relationship. Aaron knew he took a very dim view of their relationship and only tolerated it because his friend was happy. He was on that short list of people who wouldn't appreciate learning about her pregnancy. Meanwhile, the BAU director obeyed and released the inert body of his companion.

The paramedics began to ask questions about the context of this loss of consciousness and, all together, they tried to inform them as best they could. It soon became clear, however, that they were missing a piece of information to explain this drop in blood pressure. She'd eaten, slept, hydrated, hadn't been exposed to the heat for long, and this case was no more stressful than any other. The giant had the solution to this mystery on the tip of his tongue, but the oath he'd made to Emily got in the way of his desire to help her. He didn't want her to feel any resentment towards him.

“She’s pregnant,” revealed JJ.

All eyes turned to her. She ignored those of the rescuers and her counterparts, interacting only with his own. She'd done the right thing, playing her intermediary role right up to this unprofessional situation. He smiled to her, thanking her silently. With all the cards in hand, doctors and nurses were able to do what was necessary to bring the young woman out of her catalepsy. They didn't take her to hospital, nevertheless, advising her peers only to make sure she lay down as much as possible that day and rested. With the emergency personnel gone, the agitated exchange that should have erupted following this revelation did not take place, with everyone respecting the doctor's recommendations for calm.

In their own way, they took the news in stride, contributing to her well-being. Spencer brought her a large pitcher of water and a glass; Morgan raided the candy dispenser and Dave fetched a blanket from the locker room. Emily, who had painfully reopened her eyes in the meantime, graced them with a murmured thank you and a faint smile. She was awfully pale, a sign that her blood pressure hadn't really risen to its original level. Finally, Hotch distilled his instructions for the investigation, and everyone scattered into the wild.

Alone with his lover, who stared at him grimly, he dared to ask:

“Are you okay?”

“You told JJ,” she harrumphed in a tone of voice that was surprisingly dry given her condition.

“I didn’t need to, she guessed all by herself.”

“How?”

He repeated her argument and she sighed, defeated.

“Inevitably, with her experience, she's one step ahead of the others,” she grumbled, vexed.

“Not anymore.”

“I so wanted to see their faces when I announced it,” she complained, disgusted at having to abandon the plan.

“You’ll make it up with the next one.”

She widened her eyelids in surprise, and he replied with a smile. It was a joke meant to cheer her up, but if things went well after the birth of this baby – and if she wanted it to – it wasn't out of the question that he'd let himself be tempted again. He felt much more serene than when Haley was expecting Jack. She smiled back and he felt like kissing her. He first checked that no one was looking in their direction, then knelt down beside the bench she'd been laying on and put his lips to hers. Their kiss lingered a little longer and they had to part. Aaron stroked her cheek and stood up. He was about to turn around and go back to the investigation when he saw her straighten up.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to help you. For the case.”

The gleam of determination in her eyes dissuaded him from arguing, but he found a parry.

“You don’t need to get up for that.”

“What?”

He collected all the documents spread out on the table and sat cross-legged next to her. He scattered the papers into neat piles and opened the first folder on his lap. All under Emily's appalled gaze.

“Do you want me to read it for you?”

They smiled in unison, and she lay back down. Soon, they found themselves hand in hand, exchanging views, their minds lightened by the secret they were still carrying that very morning.

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/771016298484334592/a-little-piece-of-paradise-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/783699680819380224/a-little-piece-of-paradise-21?source=share

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #angst

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