FOURTEEN DAYS

(For proper reading order, check my profile. This story falls right after Apocalypse Now.) Please REview!

Hotch gave Emily two weeks after the end of my fic "Apocalypse Now", to decide if she wanted a relationship with him. Those two weeks are up during my fiction "Hope". But what happens in the meantime?

How does Emily make her decision? How does Hotch pass those two weeks?

Here goes…

DAY ONE

She carried her bag off the plane, slung over her shoulder, her injured hand resting gingerly on the black leather. Derek walked at her side, teasing her about giving him a ride home. Hotch watched, longingly, a few yards behind her, wishing it was him that would be leaving with her instead of Derek. But he knew she needed her space, despite how he wanted to be with her every second of the next few days.

Rationally, he knew it was best for both of them to take a break from each other. Knew he needed to see Jack and unwind. To process the changes in his life over the last few days. Give her the same opportunity. A strategic retreat.

Hotch walked immediately to his office, to check his messages and drop off his paper work. He'd have Jack all weekend and wanted no distractions—not even one file. He felt a thrill of excitement knowing he'd have his son for two uninterrupted days. The only thing that would make it better was if Emily was there with him, too.

Of course, she'd probably think it was too soon for that.

Aaron knew how he felt—hell, he'd been trained to observe and understand every aspect of human behavior—and that translated into knowing every aspect of his own behavior. And he knew what he wanted.

He drove the miles to his apartment—ironically, it was less than a mile and a half from Emily's Annandale townhouse. He passed her complex everyday on his way to work. For the last three weeks, it had been harder and harder not to drive by her building. Just to make sure she was safe.

Once again, he realized his behavior sounded a bit like an obsession. As he rolled past the entrance to her complex, he caught sight of her BMW as it whipped into the space in front of her place. She always drove so fast—it was why he'd never let her drive on a case—unless they wanted to get somewhere incredibly fast. He idly questioned whether a BMW sports car was the appropriate vehicle for her. The way she drove—she'd be better off in a tank.

He returned Hayley's call as soon as he walked into his apartment, listening with half an ear to her various demands. "I'll pick him up this evening around six. I just walked in the door, Hayley. I haven't even sat my bag down."

"I just need to know that you're not going to go rushing off on a case and need me to pick him up, Aaron. I won't be here. You understand that right?"

"Listen, I understand you and what's his name, Richard, are going out of town. Have fun. I put in for personal time for this. Jack will be fine. I have kept him before, remember. But it's not that you're worried about, is it?"

"Don't profile me, Aaron."

"Look, I have to go. I need to get some sleep before I pick him up, and I have to go to the grocery store to get some macaroni and cheese. Good bye, Hayley."

He never would have imagined hanging the phone up on Hayley would be one of his life's perverse pleasures.

Of course, he'd never imagined they'd be divorced, either. Rossi'd said it best when he told Emily that life was a terrible thing to have happen to a person.

But Aaron was dealing with this. His life went on. He'd make the best effort he possibly could to be there for Jack, but he had come to the realization watching his friend suffering in the hospital just a few short weeks ago, that he needed something different than Hayley. Now he just had to wait fourteen days to get it.

KURTTHECATKURTHECAT

Kurt was hogging the pillow—again. Emily sleepily pushed him aside, ignoring his merow of indignation. The big yellow cat was very expressive—and complained often. She just ignored him. It worked better for her that way.

Still, she had to admit, she'd missed him while she'd been gone. He always made her feel needed and loved. Except when he pouted because she'd left him alone for several days on end. Never mind that she paid the teenager three doors down to come over and check on him every morning before school.

To Kurt, it just wasn't the same. For Emily, either.

But she had two whole days to make it up to him. And she was looking forward to every moment of it.She had nothing to do but be with the cat, and think about Hotch's ultimatum. How was she supposed to decide? Choice A, have a flaming affair with her supervisor, the man she'd likened to a frozen, unemotional robot, or Choice B, tell him no? Did she want either?

Hotch wasn't a cold, unemotional robot, she'd seen that in the days since Rossi'd nearly died. Hotch just chose to bury his feelings deep. And he'd all of the sudden developed feelings for her. It freaked her to her toes.

But she had to admit, when it came right down to it—had she ever truly trusted another man the way she did Hotch? No. She didn't think so. Did any other man make her tremble, make her breathless the way Hotch suddenly could? No. She didn't believe so. But could she handle the high stakes of being involved with him? She just didn't know.

The Nortan Springs case had been a tough one, and it had proven to her one thing—Hotch's feelings were running deep, deeper than she'd ever imagined they could. And they were directed right at her. He'd made her feel so safe in California, yet he'd trusted her, as an agent and a woman, as well. It was a unique experience for her. One she wouldn't mind repeating.

But Emily Prentiss never rushed into things like this. Never, especially with something that had such great consequences. For the last year and a half, she'd known she didn't like him. Couldn't stand him. He'd made her long for Chicago. Made her want to quit and run.

But Prentiss's didn't quit. And they definitely didn't run. They stood their ground, and never let anyone see them sweat. That was a lesson she'd learned early, and one that had served her well in her career.

But she had a feeling, Aaron Hotchner could redirect her in more ways than anyone else ever could.

And that was what terrified her the most.

And if she was brutally honest with herself. That was what excited her more than she'd ever been excited.

Now she just had to decide what to do about it. Somehow.

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Emily's neighbor proved to be a big enough distraction that she didn't spend the entire day worrying about Hotch. Instead, she kept an eye on the little girl as the child played in the sandbox near Emily's feet.

She'd never seen a three-year-old so determined to get to the bottom of a wooden box of sand before. But little Katie's determination was amusing.

Emily often babysat the little one when her mother—Emily's neighbor to the right—was called in to work on the weekend. Corine was a social worker, and a single mother, and was highly dedicated to both Katie and the job. Watching Katie occasionally helped Emily considerably when cases got too bad. The child reminded Emily of why she did the job she did. So Katie could safely sit in a box of sand on a pretty Saturday afternoon, and not have to worry about the monsters surrounding her.

That was Aunt Emmie's job.

JACKHOTCHNERJACKHOTCHNERJACKHOTCHNER

Jack insisted on the park, and Aaron had prepared for that very inevitability. He'd scouted out all the parks near his apartment, looking for the safest place to take Jack, before he'd even picked the child up.

What he'd found was a nice, clean, family-friendly place about halfway between his and Emily's places. It catered mostly to younger children, with play equipment safe and suitable for children six and under, and Hotch knew Jack would enjoy it immensely.

The little boy was clamoring from his car seat, ready to run wild all over the park. Hotch pulled him up onto his hip, wise to his little games, and ruffled the boy's dark hair. "Ready, buddy? What first?"

"Dirt! Dirt box. Trucks dig! Daddy!" He held his little green shovel in one hand, the bright blue bucket in the other. He loved to dig, and Hotch had promised him they'd definitely hit the sandbox at the park. "Let's go. Hurry, hurry, hurry."

Hotch laughed at his son's enthusiasm. Even at three, Jack Hotchner knew what he wanted, and was determined to get it. "Patience, Jack-Jack!"

Hotch was an agent first, and his eyes scanned the park's occupants, cataloging any and all patrons. The family with the twins by the slides, the single dads near the monkey bars, talking and laughing, watching the single mothers by the teeter-totters, the dark-haired woman by the sandbox that looked like Emily, with the little blonde girl at her knee.

The dark-haired woman who was Emily. What was she doing there? Who was the little girl?

Hotch felt a smile stretching his lips as he hastened his steps, to the delight of the little boy on his hip. Could the day get any better? He thought, Being with both her and Jack on a beautiful summer day?

Emily was laughing at Katie's perplexed expression as she tried to lift the bucket of sand. "Sweetie, it's too heavy. Take some sand out."

"No. Me can do it!" The towheaded child was one of the most stubborn individuals Emily had ever met, and it was one of the kid's charms. "Aunt Emmie, me do it!"

"Ok, I don't doubt you can!" Emily laughed again. She missed the sound of footsteps coming up behind her. When she felt someone looming above her, she turned quickly, one hand reaching for the little girl.

It was instinctive. She was an agent first and foremost, and it was hard to ignore years of training. She instantly relaxed and tensed seeing the man and boy standing behind her.

"Hi, Embully!" Jack yelled. He'd met the lady who smelled like strawberries before. She'd played Frisbee with him and carried him around, calling him a Jack Monster. "We come to the dirt, too!"

"Hi, Jack-Monster!" She smiled at the little boy, before looking at his father. "Hotch."

"Hi. I didn't expect to see you here." He smiled softly. "Who's this?"

"This is my neighbor, Katie." The little girl stood up at her name and moved to hide behind Emily's leg. She, too, was going through a shy stage with anyone she didn't know real well. Her and her mother were transplants to the DC area, and they actually knew very view people—at least people Katie's mom felt comfortable enough to leave the girl with. "Katie, this is my friend Mr. Hotchner, and his little boy Jack. Can you say hi?"

"Hwello." She eyed the little boy from suspicious green eyes.

"Hi. Me pway in dirt, too. My buctet is blue." Jack might be shy with certain adults, but he'd never met a child he didn't like. His daddy placed him in the sand beside the little girl, and he immediately began shoveling sand into his own bucket.

Hotch sank on to the rim of the sandbox, uncaring that he'd be covered in the grit when he returned home. "So you come here often?"

She laughed at his grin. "That line work for you often?"

"I don't know, does it work with you?" He teased her in a way he'd not felt free to in the past.

"I'm here a lot." Emily admitted. "My neighbor doesn't have any family or close friends she feels comfortable enough to leave Katie with."

"So how often do you watch her?" Hotch had to admit he'd noticed before how children seemed to be drawn to her. How she seemed to be a natural at setting them at ease in some of the most truly horrifying situations.

"Her mother is a social worker, she gets called in a lot on weekends. If I'm free, I take Katie. If not, the older couple on the other side watch her. She's a wonderful child—extremely stubborn, but very bright." Emily smiled at the child in question, as the little blonde instructed the slightly older boy in the proper way of shoveling sand. "Bossy, too."

"I don't think he minds." Hotch said, watching the toddlers. "He's just happy to have her near."

"So how come we've not seen you here before?" Emily asked, having heard he'd moved somewhere near her.

"We usually go to the park a mile away from here, but they've been doing construction." Hotch said. "This was our second choice, as it's a bit further out."

"Ah." Emily acknowledged, as another man settled his little boy near Jack. He was about Emily and Hotch's age, and his boy a little older than the two toddlers currently playing at the dark-haired couple's feet. Emily smiled politely, not recognizing the man from her previous visits. The man smiled at her, a little more than politely, and Hotch frowned.

He moved one arm to rest behind Emily, and she didn't protest. He'd done similiar before. In much tenser situations. She'd grown used to him touching her frequently during the last month or so. His casual touches felt so right.

"How's your arm?" Hotch asked, softly, motioning to the air cast covering the hand and wrist she'd injured falling through Corison's roof. He covered the cast with the hand not resting behind her, on her waist.

Made it clear to whomever was watching that they—and the two children at their feet—were a unit.

"Sore. But the swelling has gone down." Emily said, the injury had looked worse than it was. "So how long do you have Jack?"

"Until Monday morning." Hotch smiled at the boy as he called for his daddy to look at his bucket. "His mother's gone out of town. So I've got him for two whole days."

"Good for you. Big plans?" Emily asked, leaning into him slightly. Neither paid much attention to the other man, nor any of the other parents in the park. They were focused on the children in their care and on each other. "Male bonding?"

"If you can bond with a three-year-old." Hotch said, ruefully. "And have him remember it, that is. Tonight—movie night. Rugrats in Paris—whatever that is. We also have a Fraggle Rock movie. But I doubt we'll make it through both."

"On our marquee we have The Princess Bride, and a Disney Princess movie. I'm not sure which one." Emily admitted. "And a promise of manicures and curly hair, of course. She's a very traditional little girl."

"We'll probably eat macaroni and cheese and have a popcorn war." Hotch laughed, thinking of the differences between a three-year-old boy and a three-year-old girl. "Far cry from chasing down the Apocalypse, huh?"

"Yes. Thank God." Emily breathed, watching as Jack moved to help Katie lift her bucket. The little girl had steadfastly refused to dump so much as a grain of sand out. "She reminds me of why."

"Yes. Exactly." Hotch agreed. "It's for them. The nightmares, all of it."

"The broken bones, the collapsing roofs, the haunted hotels." Emily added, as Katie batted her eyes at Jack. "It's for this."

"I think he's in love." Hotch said, suddenly changing the subject.

"Oh?" Emily said, watching the children.

"All his playmates are little boys." Hotch said, smiling fully. "Wonder if he'll be attracted to green-eyed blondes when he's older, now?"

"I think she's just happy to have a willing slave to do her dirty work." Emily said, as Jack struggled and strained to move the little girl's bucket. "And they just empty it and refill it. Over and over."

"But at least they are playing together, instead of in parallel play." Hotch said. "I love watching him think."

"Oh?" Emily smiled, looking at him.

"It's so natural and uncomplicated." Hotch began absently running his palm up and down her spine. "Simplistic."

"Open." Emily said, arching into his touch slightly, knowing exactly what he meant. "No societal imposed checks and balances. No classically trained A to B equals C? Just this is so because. It's beautiful."

"Yes it is." Hotch said. "That's how you think, you know. When you are on a role. I like watching you think, too."

"You've given this a lot of thought?" Emily's brows rose. "Done a lot of watching?"

"I think about you more than you can imagine. Especially at night." Hotch lowered his voice, whispering the words against her ear, as she watched the children. "I think about you doing things. I think about watching you do things."

"Hotch!" Emily said, gasping at his meaning. She'd never expected him to say things that openly. But then again, she'd never imagined he'd touch her so freely, never imagined sleeping beside him, either. But things changed quickly. No one knew that better than her. "This your idea of giving me time?"

"I said I'd give you fourteen days—and I'd do whatever I had to, to influence your decision. Remember. Of course, I didn't plan on seeing you today. But we Hotchners know how to take advantage of any situation." He nodded toward his son, and Emily laughed when she saw what he had. "And we get what we want."

Jack was standing, pulling on the little girl's hand. Trying to get her attention from the other little boy in the sandbox. Trying to focus her back on him. Which he did; the little couple stepped over toward Emily and Hotch, ready to list their demands. Which the adults immediately moved to satisfy, relocating their little unit to the swings.

"Remember, Emily." Hotch said, as they each stood pushing a three-year-old on a swing. "Hotchners get what they want. No matter what."

Emily shivered, swallowed, turned back to the little girl in her care, thinking all the while, this is going to be harder than she'd ever imagined.

Hotch was determined to get her. And part of her wanted to let him.