Another short piece, just for fun! I hope you like it!

I don't own these wonderful characters.

S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner wasn't going to read that last batch of emails because it was already five o'clock and Jack's soccer game was at five-thirty. He would make it just in time if he left right now. And just-in-time is what he aimed for these days, as opposed to early, because early gave Haley a few extra minutes to glare at him. She had been civil throughout the divorce ordeal, but now that it was over she stopped pretending and contempt seethed through her pores. Not that he blamed her. Twenty years of marriage down the drain, and for what? Not even he could understand why he let it happen.

But the email from Human Resources caught his eye because it had the name Emily Prentiss in the subject line. So he opened it and quickly read it through. She took the next two days off. Why? The personal box was checked off. Okay. He wondered if Thursday and Friday would be enough for her personal… whatever. He would make sure she got Saturday and Sunday off, as well. She wouldn't be called if there was a case. But then he had a vision of her at his door tapping her foot and asking in an exasperated tone, "Why wasn't I called in with the team? What the hell, Hotch?"

He couldn't avoid the smile that snaked across his features. She was a spitfire, that Emily Prentiss, though he didn't have the guts to tell her so. Aaron picked up the desk line, dialed, and said, "Hi, J.J."

"What are you still doing here? Haley's gonna kill you if you're late," warned the strawberry blonde. Hotch could hear the worry behind her motherly tone.

"Yes, I'm on my way out."

"Um-hum," she said with incredulity.

"No, really, look, I've got my suitcase and everything."

J.J. looked out her office window across the catwalk and smiled at him as he lifted his briefcase over his desk.

"So what's up?" she asked.

"I just got an email from HR about Emily. Did you know she took a couple days off?"

J.J.'s tone immediately softened, "Oh, yeah, her grandpa died."

"Oh, no, that's terrible. What happened?"

"I don't know, she didn't tell me much. But he was really old, like ninety-something."

"I'm surprised she didn't come talk to me."

"Yeah, me too. Maybe she was in a hurry. It's a five-hour drive to her grandpa's estate."

"Okay. So let's leave her alone if a case pops up over the weekend. Don't alert her, okay?"

"It's your call," she said smartly. "But Em's going to eat you alive when she gets back!"

"Well, let's just keep our fingers crossed and hope the serial killers behave this weekend."

Five minutes later the Unit Chief was hurrying down the stairs. By habit he glanced at his raven-haired agent's desk in the bullpen and felt a wave of apprehension. Something was amiss, and Hotch had very good instincts. Why did she go straight to HR instead of talking to him? And why didn't she tell the team about her loss? They would gladly have shown up at the funeral to hold her hand. Hell, this was Emily. Hotch himself would probably have baked something for the occasion, a lasagna or whatever funeral food Rossi suggested. Maybe he would call her after Jack's game. Yes, he would definitely call her after Jack's game.

Aaron tossed and turned in his bed. He reached over to Hailey's side and instead of her warm, soft skin he felt cold, empty sheets. It still surprised and shocked him to wakefulness. Frustrated, he finally gave up and turned on his night table lamp. His cell phone read 2:00 A.M. and still Emily hadn't called. The first time he called her, he hung up with the voicemail. An hour later when he called back he left a message saying that he and J.J. (coward, adding J.J.'s name made him feel braver) were worried, to please call him back. Maybe she did call back. Of course, she did: she called J.J. That's what happened. He was tempted to text J.J., but decided it was completely inappropriate due to the late hour. What would Will think?

He texted Emily instead. Lost track of time. More worried now than before. Are you okay? He felt like a stalker, and his message sounded needy, but he pressed send anyway.

Moments later, his text message alert beeped and he immediately read it. Emily responded: Sorry for not responding. It's been a hard day, but I'll be okay. Appreciate your concern.

A generic message. But she slipped: she said she will be okay, as in the future tense. So she wasn't okay now. He knew it –he had been right to worry. Aaron wondered if he should respond. But he didn't have to wait long. She sent him another text message: Can I call you now?

He nearly fell off the bed. He typed: Of course you can. Please do. And he nervously raked his fingers through his disheveled hair combing it, as if she would be able to see him. Moments later the Imperial March filled his room. Aaron immediately thought of Jack. He had been messing with his settings and he obviously programmed his new ring tone. "That little rascal," smiled Hotch and then he answered, "Hello, Emily, I'm so glad you called."

Okay, so a warning to the readers: This piece ends next chapter, and it is NOT going to end as you would expect. And that's all I'm sayin'.