INTERIM

(This fic occurs right after my fic "Count On Me", and tells of the gap between CoM and "Apocalypse Now". It seeks to explain how Hotch's feelings are changing, and how Emily—and Morgan!—become aware of the change…enjoy….

PSThis will definitely be rated Mature- because it's a CM fic, and Hotch might have some naughty thoughts)

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Rossi's office was eerily dark—a grim reminder of the events of three days ago. He was currently resting in a drug induced haze after being transferred to the best burn hospital in DC.

Monday morning, Emily had already been to the hospital to see him. He hadn't been awake, but she'd sat beside him anyway. Just to remind herself that he'd be ok, that he'd get through this.

But still, it hurt to think of him lying there so vulnerable, instead of finding him crashed out in his office, like she had on so many mornings in the past four months.

She was always the first one in the office in the mornings—a habit she'd developed early on in her time at the BAU. She'd never wanted to give Hotchner a reason to ride her case. She knew she was just there on sufferance at first, and she'd do anything not to jeopardize that.

Now it was just a habit, and she'd been the first to realize David Rossi often didn't go home at night. At first, she'd said nothing, not wanting to invade the man's privacy. Until she realized, that like her arriving early, his sleeping in his office was becoming a habit. A lonely one.

So she'd brought him coffee. Then bagels. First, only occasionally, then on a more regular basis. They'd began to talk about inconsequential things, things not case related. He'd told her about his family, his brother and nieces and nephew. She'd told him about her mother, and some of the baggage that existed between the two of them. Eventually, they'd became friends as well as colleagues.

After Hotch had gotten his divorce papers, he'd began staying at the office late at night, too. But Emily didn't bring him coffee or bagels. Didn't acknowledge that she knew. Neither she nor Hotch would have considered it any of her business. But she continued to talk to Dave. Until she'd realized one morning, that Rossi was one of the few people in the world to truly get her. One of the few people who truly understood her.

And now this—he was so lucky Hotch had been there. When she thought what could have happened, her breath backed up in her throat and she had to fight the tears.

But at least the case was over. At least Dave was healing.

At least Hotch had told her she was a valued part of the team. Even if she wasn't sure she believed he meant it.

This morning would be the first she'd seen him since they'd wrapped the case up the day after Rossi'd been injured. Since the day after she'd cried so hard on his shoulder.

Why couldn't it have been Derek that found her in the chapel? He'd seen her cry before, and always gave her her space. Always made her smile when she was finished. Always made her feel better.

Hotch had just made her feel awkward. She'd not been able to look at him the remainder of the night in that waiting room, instead staying with Dave's brother until everyone had trickled away—to rest, to find the bastards who'd made the bomb. To escape each other and be alone with their fear, grief, and rage.

She'd cried in the arms of the one member of the team she wasn't sure she liked, knew she didn't understand, and didn't want to ever see her weak.

Dammit. How awkward was today going to be?

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Hotch watched Emily as she settled in at her desk. His window blinds were closed, affording him the privacy he needed to compose himself for the difficult day ahead. Even with Rossi recuperating, the BAU had to go on. He stood by the door, looking around the edge of the blinds. Watching her, thinking.

People were depending on them. To catch monsters again.

Emily settled in at her desk, and he could almost feel the sigh she released as she looked up at Dave's office. He was aware that they often visited each other before the day began. That of all the team, Emily was probably the closest to Dave. Other than himself, that was.

It would naturally be hard on Emily to come in and see the office empty. She probably had come to depend on that early morning conversation.

He opened the door to his office, determined to make some changes in the way he did things—both personally and professionally, and headed down the stairs. "Good morning, Emily."

Emily looked up at hearing her name, surprise written on her face. He never spoke to her before the briefings. Never. "Good morning, sir."

"Rossi's down in Washington now." Hotch said, moving closer to her desk. "I talked to his brother yesterday."

"Steven called me yesterday morning, too. I was there when they brought Dave down." Emily admitted. "He thought it might be easier for Dave to have someone he felt comfortable with there, as well."

"Steven? Called you?" Hotch asked, surprised. She was on a first name basis with the man?

"Yes. He needed to know someone would be close by if Dave needed something, while Steven's home in Philadelphia." Plus, he'd wanted her number. She hadn't objected. The single father was a nice man, not as intense as those she worked with, but she thought she'd like that. "I volunteered. With his kids, he really can't be running back and forth between Washington and Philadelphia."

"That's right, he's recently divorced." Hotch recalled Rossi telling him a few months ago that his sister-in-law had just up and left her husband of ten years and their four kids. Hotch couldn't imagine it. Jack was hard enough to handle on the weekends by himself.

"Yes, he is." Emily said, confused by the whole conversation. "I went and sat with Dave this morning. They've got him drugged pretty heavily, so he wasn't aware I was there. But his color is looking much better."

"Good." Hotch said. "I planned to run over after work—if we don't get a case."

"Maybe he'll be awake then." She said, noncommittally as Derek strolled in, ready bag slung over his strong shoulder. Spencer was only a few steps behind him.

She'd never been more glad to see her friends. A casual Hotch was not something she was used to. Especially when it was just her and him.

"Maybe." Hotch said, smiling at her softly, before turning to greet Morgan.

Alternate universe, was all Emily could think of, as she sank into her chair and checked the pile of papers that had been delivered by the late night mail clerk. She'd woken up and found herself in an alternate universe.

She had to lay off reading science fiction before bed.

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The day was relatively uneventful, with nothing more than a few consults and a lot of filing. It gave everyone a day to breathe after the events of the past week.

It gave Emily a chance to go to lunch with Steven Rossi. He'd called her, a few hours into her shift, to let her know that his brother was awake, and there were no signs of infection.

Dave was very lucky.

Then Steven had asked her if she'd like to go to lunch at the little café near the hospital—so he could thank her for her help over the weekend. His voice had hinted at something more, and she hadn't minded in the least.

So she'd said yes, and she'd enjoyed herself. Steven was a nice man, funny, as articulate as his brother, a literature professor with whom she'd had an interesting time talking with. Who'd smiled and flirted with her and admitted he was nervous around a pretty girl. It was sweet.

What she didn't enjoy was Derek's annoying smirk when she returned from lunch five minutes late. To find her colleagues waiting around in the bullpen discussing the custodial interview that had cropped up while she was gone—and who was going to accompany Hotch.

Who was waiting at her desk. He looked at her intensely as she hurried in.

"Sorry, I'm late." Emily murmured, standing awkwardly next to JJ.

"We have an emergency custodial interview in Chicago. Spencer and Morgan both think they should get to go." Hotch said, severely, eying the two men. He couldn't blame them, things around the office were awkward, the darkness of Rossi's office shadowing every hour. Even a custodial offered a means of escape.

"I see, no taking turns, boys?" She smirked at Derek, hoping to divert Hotch's gaze. Why was he staring at her so intently? Did she still have a bit of salad in her teeth? Was he going to rip her over being a few minutes late—even though she'd never been late before?

"I think Emily should go." JJ said, suddenly. "Since Spence and Derek can't play nice."

"I've never done a custodial interview." Emily admitted. She didn't want to—but how could she tell Hotch that? Say, sorry, sir, but I don't want to go to Chicago alone with you? Morgan, Spencer, JJ—even Garcia, but not you! That would go over real well. It was bad enough taking a flight to Milwaukie with him months ago.

"It's settled then. Plane leaves at eight. I want everyone's paperwork on my desk by five." Hotch decided, just becoming aware that of the two dozen custodials the BAU had done in the past year or so—he'd never taken Emily. He'd never thought to. "JJ, make the hotel reservations for tonight. We'll do the interview tomorrow morning and be back tomorrow night."

"Yes, sir." The blonde said, smirking at Emily. She turned on the older woman. "So, a date with Rossi's little brother? How was it?"

"It was lunch, JJ. You know, soup and salads a block from the hospital. It's not like the man knows anyone else around here." Emily said, as Hotch started to walk away. She suddenly smiled, laughed softly--sweetly. "I like him."

"Good." JJ said, giggling like a teenaged girl, as Spencer and Morgan returned to their desks to finish paperwork—the latter listening to the girls with half an ear. Only Morgan noticed Hotch pause by the foot of the stairs, shoulders stiff, as he looked back at the two women—listening to their conversation. "So what did you talk about?"

"Dave. Literature. He's a professor of Modern American Lit. And his kids, mostly."

"How many and how old?" JJ demanded.

"Four." Emily said. "Three girls and a boy. All under the age of nine."

"Wow. Busy man." JJ said. "So…are you going to go out with him again?"

"I don't know. He's pretty busy with the kids. But he will be coming down at least on the weekends to check on Dave. I told him that we'd certainly keep checking on him during the week—when we don't have cases."

"Still…he'll be down on weekends?" JJ said. "That'll be nice. So if he asks, will you go back out with him?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Probably. Yes."

"Wow."

Morgan watched, surprised, as Hotch suddenly moved, stalking up the stairs, throwing an angry glance over his shoulder at the two women who stood still giggling over Emily's new friend.

What the hell was that all about?

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It took all of Hotch's inner control not to slam his door. He was unreasonably angry, and it was all he could do not to turn to her and demand answers.

It took him a moment to realize that he was actually jealous. Jealous that she'd gone out with another man—even for something so trivial as lunch.

He had no claim on her, why shouldn't she be free to date whomever she wanted? And if she was attracted to a recently divorced, single father—who was he to get angry at her?

He was a recently divorced, single father. That thought made him pause. Consider. Think about it, think about her. Think about him.

Steven Rossi was around Hotch's age, the same height, similar build. Similar coloring.

But Steven Rossi made Emily smile sweetly, made her laugh like a girl, when she thought about a simple lunch date. Aaron Hotchner made her nervous, made her catch her breath, made her wary. Made her doubt herself.

Was it any wonder she wasn't sure if she wanted him as a friend?

Why shouldn't she be excited about the literature professor?

He thought back to three nights ago. Thought back to how she'd fit against him as she cried. How he'd vowed then to actually get to know the woman in his arms. How he'd vowed to convince her to maybe take things a little further past friendship.

What he hadn't realized was that she might not be so keen on the idea. He'd have to think about that. First, though, he'd run over to the hospital and check on Rossi. Let him know he was only a call away if he needed anything. Let him know he was going to Chicago for a few days—he and Prentiss.

He remembered then what Rossi had told him only three nights ago. "If she'd look at me the way she looks at you, just once…I'd tell the bureau to screw it's fraternization rules and take her to Aruba."

It wasn't Aruba, and he didn't have the same purpose Dave had implied, but it was him she was traveling to Chicago with. Now he'd just have to see exactly how she looked at him. Him—and not Steven Rossi.

He'd have to use it to his advantage. Actually get to know whatever he could about her. Before deciding on his next step.