i'm holding you closer than most (Hotch/Emily, Criminal Minds)
Title: i'm holding you closer than most
Author: duchessofavalon
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, mentions of Jack Hotchner
Rating: PGish
Summary: In which Hotch admits that he's glad Emily's home.
Authors Notes: One of abvj's requests for my middle of the fic meme, although this one sort of turned into "the beginning to what could potentially turn into an actual fic but currently I'm too lazy to make it one". Takes place after Wednesday's episode, "Painless".
Emily finds herself on Hotch’s couch at around ten that night. He’s tucked Jack in and sent him off to dreamland before pouring them each a glass of red wine. She’s curled up on one end, her feet tucked beneath her, and as he gets settled she takes the opportunity to just watch him for one long unguarded moment.
Profiler that he is, he knows she’s staring. She can tell, because the corners of his lips are twitching up into what usually passes for a smile from her Unit Chief (but he can do better, she knows it, she’s seen it, she’s caused it).
“Yes?” Hotch prompts as he finally sits, propping his socked feet on his coffee table. She chuckles.
He lifts his eyebrows in that expectant manner that’s so achingly familiar, and Emily catalogues that tiny moment in the way she’d done almost constantly her first week back, searching out every minuscule gesture that made her friends who they were-- the way JJ fiddles with the front of her hair when she’s doing paperwork; Morgan’s absent tapping of his pen or the way he’ll place his fingers on the back of her shoulder when they’re walking somewhere and he doesn’t think she’s moving quickly enough; each of Garcia’s smiles.
“Nothing,” she tells him with an impatient shake of her head. “It’s just nice, seeing you like this-- jeans, no shoes. Relaxed.”
“Ah. Well, I don’t want to scandalize you, but stick around long enough and I may get really crazy and take off my socks.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she drawls, her grin bright and genuine. That’s something that’s still a bit unfamiliar-- smiling and meaning it, having a real reason to do it.
“So who do you think’s going to win?” she asks.
“Win?”
“This prank war Morgan and Reid have started.”
Hotch briefly looks pained, and Emily tries her hardest not to laugh at him.
“Reid,” he says finally. “When it comes down to it, he’s just got more dogged persistence than Morgan when it comes to something like this.”
“That’s sort of what I was thinking,” she admits. “Can’t say I’m not going to enjoy watching Morgan try, though.”
“I just hope they don’t do anything stupid. Define ‘stupid’ as you will,” he adds, taking a long drink of his wine.
Emily reaches her feet out just a bit and starts a little when Hotch grasps her ankles and pulls her feet into his lap so that she can stretch her legs out full-length. He looks so content (which is not a word that she, or anyone, would typically use to describe him), though, that she doesn’t comment.
“So what is this?” she asks instead. It isn’t completely out of the ordinary for them to spend time together, or it wasn’t before the whole Doyle fiasco. Since Emily’s return, though, they’ve barely had a chance to speak, let alone hang out. Earlier this evening on the plane had been one of their first real conversations, she realizes.
“This is...me missing you. Talking to people isn’t something I’m very good at, but I can talk to you, and I missed that. Having you here again...it’s good. It’s very good,” Hotch admits, staring off into the middle distance rather than meeting her gaze. His free hand is still resting on her ankles.
“I missed you too.” Emily lets it hang there between them before she continues. “You and Jack both.” She laughs, settling more into the cushions as the combination of the wine and the company relaxes her. “There were two fantastic zoos in Paris, and I didn’t have anyone to go with. Not that I would ever take advantage of my friendship with your child, of course.”
Hotch is silent again, but this time he meets her eyes and there is an emotion in his that she doesn’t want to name, one that is likely being reflected in her own gaze.
This isn’t new to either of them. It’s been there, lurking just below the surface, for quite some time. Possibly even before Foyet.
There’s just been so much in the way.
Emily is the one to finally break the moment, turning her focus back to her wine and nearly draining the glass.
Hotch’s long, low sigh is another tiny familiar thing that she files away.
Author: duchessofavalon
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, mentions of Jack Hotchner
Rating: PGish
Summary: In which Hotch admits that he's glad Emily's home.
Authors Notes: One of abvj's requests for my middle of the fic meme, although this one sort of turned into "the beginning to what could potentially turn into an actual fic but currently I'm too lazy to make it one". Takes place after Wednesday's episode, "Painless".
Emily finds herself on Hotch’s couch at around ten that night. He’s tucked Jack in and sent him off to dreamland before pouring them each a glass of red wine. She’s curled up on one end, her feet tucked beneath her, and as he gets settled she takes the opportunity to just watch him for one long unguarded moment.
Profiler that he is, he knows she’s staring. She can tell, because the corners of his lips are twitching up into what usually passes for a smile from her Unit Chief (but he can do better, she knows it, she’s seen it, she’s caused it).
“Yes?” Hotch prompts as he finally sits, propping his socked feet on his coffee table. She chuckles.
He lifts his eyebrows in that expectant manner that’s so achingly familiar, and Emily catalogues that tiny moment in the way she’d done almost constantly her first week back, searching out every minuscule gesture that made her friends who they were-- the way JJ fiddles with the front of her hair when she’s doing paperwork; Morgan’s absent tapping of his pen or the way he’ll place his fingers on the back of her shoulder when they’re walking somewhere and he doesn’t think she’s moving quickly enough; each of Garcia’s smiles.
“Nothing,” she tells him with an impatient shake of her head. “It’s just nice, seeing you like this-- jeans, no shoes. Relaxed.”
“Ah. Well, I don’t want to scandalize you, but stick around long enough and I may get really crazy and take off my socks.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she drawls, her grin bright and genuine. That’s something that’s still a bit unfamiliar-- smiling and meaning it, having a real reason to do it.
“So who do you think’s going to win?” she asks.
“Win?”
“This prank war Morgan and Reid have started.”
Hotch briefly looks pained, and Emily tries her hardest not to laugh at him.
“Reid,” he says finally. “When it comes down to it, he’s just got more dogged persistence than Morgan when it comes to something like this.”
“That’s sort of what I was thinking,” she admits. “Can’t say I’m not going to enjoy watching Morgan try, though.”
“I just hope they don’t do anything stupid. Define ‘stupid’ as you will,” he adds, taking a long drink of his wine.
Emily reaches her feet out just a bit and starts a little when Hotch grasps her ankles and pulls her feet into his lap so that she can stretch her legs out full-length. He looks so content (which is not a word that she, or anyone, would typically use to describe him), though, that she doesn’t comment.
“So what is this?” she asks instead. It isn’t completely out of the ordinary for them to spend time together, or it wasn’t before the whole Doyle fiasco. Since Emily’s return, though, they’ve barely had a chance to speak, let alone hang out. Earlier this evening on the plane had been one of their first real conversations, she realizes.
“This is...me missing you. Talking to people isn’t something I’m very good at, but I can talk to you, and I missed that. Having you here again...it’s good. It’s very good,” Hotch admits, staring off into the middle distance rather than meeting her gaze. His free hand is still resting on her ankles.
“I missed you too.” Emily lets it hang there between them before she continues. “You and Jack both.” She laughs, settling more into the cushions as the combination of the wine and the company relaxes her. “There were two fantastic zoos in Paris, and I didn’t have anyone to go with. Not that I would ever take advantage of my friendship with your child, of course.”
Hotch is silent again, but this time he meets her eyes and there is an emotion in his that she doesn’t want to name, one that is likely being reflected in her own gaze.
This isn’t new to either of them. It’s been there, lurking just below the surface, for quite some time. Possibly even before Foyet.
There’s just been so much in the way.
Emily is the one to finally break the moment, turning her focus back to her wine and nearly draining the glass.
Hotch’s long, low sigh is another tiny familiar thing that she files away.