This is the Christmas chapter, and it's turned out to be more romantic than funny. I hope you don't mind. Because if warm fuzziness isn't appropriate for the holidays, I don't know when it is. This chapter is dedicated to all my loyal readers out there. Thank you so much for reading my fics throughout the year and for sending me your reviews. You have truly touched my heart. It has been a pleasure entertaining you, and I am so happy that you have all enjoyed My Dark Duke. Here's to more and hopefully bigger and better stories in 2014!

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

"Emily?" Hotch's voice was muffled through the door.

"Come in, the door's open!" Emily called out as she opened the oven door. The delicious fragrance of freshly baked gingerbread greeted her and she couldn't help but smile at the little brown figures on the baking tray.

"Something smells good."

After carefully setting the tray down on top of the kitchen counter, she turned to greet him, smiling when he bent to kissed her lips sweetly.

"Hi." His smile was broad, and the warmth in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Sure, they had really only been seeing each other for three months, but it wasn't like she was some young, wide-eyed girl. She'd known him for years, and more importantly, she was carrying his children. Three of them, for goodness sake.

"Hi," she replied, a little breathlessly, more a result of his proximity than the frenzy of cooking she had crazily decided to undertake. "I know, the gingerbread men smell awesome, don't they? And look how gorgeous they are!" She turned back to admire her efforts. They were definitely some of her best work. Uniformly perfect, they stood in military straight rows on the tray.

"Definitely gorgeous," he agreed. When Emily turned back to face him, though, she found that he was looking at her, his gaze frankly admiring.

She felt her cheeks heat and she shook her head at him. "I am not gorgeous, and you know it. I've been cooking for hours and I know for a fact that my face is shinier than a glazed donut and my hair is frizzy beyond all recognition."

Hotch turned her around and took off her oven mitts before pulling her gently toward him. "No one's allowed to say anything bad about the mother of my children, and that includes you," he said mock sternly. "Besides," he smiled, "I like glazed donuts. A lot."

"Mm hmm." She tried to give him a disbelieving look, but couldn't resist smiling back at him. Who could resist a smiling Hotch? Not her. Hell, she couldn't even resist an angry, frowning Hotch, so really, she was just a plain old marshmallow when it came to him. One look and she immediately became a huge, gooey mess. It was pathetic.

"I think you are beautiful, and you know I'm telling you the truth because I obviously can't keep my hands off you," he murmured. "Like last night, for instance."

Emily's smile widened and she slipped her arms around his neck. "Remind me again, what happened last night? You know, with my almost-mummy brain and all."

His eyes were knowing, and a familiar glint appeared in them, making her insides melt, just like she had predicted. "Well, I think it all began when I opened the front door and found you wearing nothing but a fur coat."

"Faux fur," she corrected, grinning wickedly when she felt his body responding. She squirmed a little in his embrace, feeling her temperature rise. Her horny pregnancy hormones were still in full force, and she would have been embarrassed by how much sex she wanted to have, if it weren't for his whole-hearted enthusiasm in meeting her needs. Of course, he got to get his rocks off too, so at least she didn't have to worry that he was just being polite and gentlemanly. Actually, that wasn't far from the truth. He always made sure the lady came first. And second and third and fourth. God, she was a nympho.

"What is it?" asked Hotch. "What are you thinking?"

Her smile was wry. "I give you one guess."

He chuckled, eyebrows lifting when she reached between them and started to unbutton his jeans. "Really? Now?"

She stepped back and quickly pushed her leggings and panties off while her mind ran rapidly through what she still had to do before their guests arrived. "I have eight minutes max before I need to take my rudolf pie out of the oven."

Hotch blinked but obediently backed up when she pushed him back gently until he was seated on one of the chairs around the breakfast table. "You cooked rudolf?"

She frowned at him even as she straddled him. "Of course I didn't cook rudolf. It's a Christmas shepherd's pie."

"I see." He hissed out a breath when she touched him. "That's good to know. Because I don't think I can make love to a woman who's just put my favourite reindeer into a pie." His voice had become huskier as she continued her ministrations.

"Well, Rudolf's not my favourite reindeer," said Emily, shuddering as his hands performed their familiar magic upon her.

"Who is? Prancer, Dasher, Donner?" he asked, his hands tightening on her waist as she began to move on him. "It's got to be Blitzen," he said, shooting her a grin.

"I'll give you a hint. I'm riding him right now."

Hotch made a sound midway between a laugh and a groan. "I'm a reindeer?"

"You're my reindeer," she said, breathless now for another reason. "And I can tell you one thing. What you have is sooooooooo much freaking better than a glowing red nose."

He was laughing so hard that she finally had to kiss him to shut him up.

"Hey, Hotch! Congratulations, man." Hotch smiled bemusedly as Morgan grabbed his hand and pumped it. "Eight minutes, huh? That's a new record, unit chief."

"Pardon?" Hotch felt his cheeks burn. What the hell? How did his subordinate know about what happened in the kitchen?

Morgan shot him a strange look. "The training exercise this morning. You completed the circuit and neutralised the targets in eight minutes. You even beat my personal best. Well done."

"Oh." He gave Morgan a weak smile. "Thanks."

Morgan arched his brows. "Why? What did you think I was talking about?"

Hotch shook his head. "Nothing. I was a bit distracted."

Morgan nodded. "Who can blame you? Dating Prentiss, triplets on the way, buying a new house, dating Prentiss." He grinned mischievously. "How's that going?"

"Fine." Hotch made his answer short, his tone inviting no further questions.

"It must be going well, judging by the smile on Emily's face," interrupted a familiar voice.

The two men turned to see Dave, who was busy hanging up his coat and scarf. After they shook hands and Hotch poured the newcomer a scotch, the trio sat down on the couch and armchairs that surrounded the tv.

"So," said Dave, eyeing his friend. "As I was saying, Emily's looking well."

"She is. She had her check-up yesterday and everything's on track."

Dave nodded. "I'm glad that it's all working out for the both of you."

Hotch sighed. "Yeah. We had no idea whether we'd, you know, be able to be more than colleagues, so what's happened has surprised us both. In a good way, of course."

"We're really happy for you," added Morgan, looking serious for once.

"Thanks, Morgan. It means a lot to us." Us, thought Hotch, turning the word over in his mind. That was what he and Emily was, an 'us'. It sounded right. More importantly, it felt right.

"Hey guys, you're all looking way too serious for a Christmas Eve eve dinner."

Hotch looked up to see the woman whom they were discussing come up and sit down next to him. She immediately snuggled up against him and he couldn't help the smile that started to form. In fact, his mouth had started to curve the moment he had heard her voice. He didn't know why he had been so blind not to have seen how perfect she was for him before that fateful night. But it didn't matter. He had her now. And conversely, he was hers. He hadn't asked her to marry him yet; he was waiting for just the right time, but he somehow knew that she felt the same way about him. The light that he saw in her eyes whenever she looked at him told him so. His arm tightened around her and she looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He just smiled at her, and she returned his smile, reassured.

"So, Emily. Tell us that Hotch has been helping you out with the cooking." Dave looked at her. "Otherwise I'm going to have to kick his butt."

"Woo. I'd pay to see that," said Morgan, laughing.

Emily rolled her eyes. "You'd pay to see anything. JJ and I made a killing when you paid for the privilege of watching us kiss."

Morgan grinned. "Best four hundred bucks I'd ever spent."

Hotch straightened. "What? When did this happen?" He frowned at the brunette by his side.

"Settle down, honey. It was only a peck. We would've included some tongue for the same price, but Morgan was a pathetic negotiator." Emily shrugged.

"What!" Her team-mate looked outraged. "Come on, that's not fair," he moaned. "Hey, JJ's coming for dinner without Will, right? I'll give you another two hundred to French kiss."

Before Hotch could answer, Emily shook her head. "Nah, that was when I was single. And drunk. And poor JJ was off-her-face drunk. I only kiss one person nowadays. And he's a pretty damn good kisser." She gave Hotch a wink and he shook his head ruefully at her. If they had been alone he would have hauled her to him to remind her just how good a kisser he was. "And Dave," she continued, "Hotch was very helpful in the kitchen." She emphasised the word very, and Hotch tried his best to look his usual impassive self. "I was really demanding and rode him hard, but he just kept his head down and did what he was told. Just like a really good reindeer."

Hotch cleared his throat when the other two men looked puzzled. He glared at the dark-haired vixen, his eyes promising retribution. She merely bit her lip and tried not to smile.

"I'm going to go get us the cranberry and soy sticky sausages to nibble on while we wait for the others to arrive." Emily started to get up, but Hotch held her back.

"Stay here, I'll get them." He leaned close to her ear and said softly, "You are so getting a spanking tonight."

"Ooh." She grinned up at him. "Am I on your naughty list, Santa?"

"You sure are," he murmured. Hotch glanced up, relieved to find Morgan and Dave talking. He turned back to Emily. Still keeping his voice low, he said, "But if you're lucky, I might give you a chance to get back on my nice list."

She pouted. "But nice girls are boring."

"Well, I'm definitely the luckiest guy on earth because you're the best combination of naughty and nice."

Emily smiled, looking mightily pleased with herself. "Really?"

"Really." A thought struck him and he just stopped himself from laughing. He put his mouth to her ear again. "Just prepare yourself. Because after I make my list, I'm shagging you twice, gonna find out if you're naughty or nice, then Santa Clause is coming to town."

Hotch stood up and walked towards the kitchen, a wide grin on his face as Emily collapsed on the sofa, howling with laughter.

"Oh my God! I've created a monster," said Emily, still laughing when the buzzer sounded.

"I'll let the guys in," volunteered Morgan, still looking bemused at the sight of his colleague with tears of laughter in her eyes.

As soon as Pen, JJ and Reid entered, there came a flurry of hugs and kisses and the handing over of gifts. Reid joined the other men who had re-seated themselves on the sofa while the females went into the kitchen to unpack the food that Pen and JJ had brought.

"Oh JJ, these are just adorable!" exclaimed Emily when she opened the Tupperware container which contained tiny little chocolate cupcakes decorated with melted chocolate and topped with golden stars. "Did they take long to do?"

"The decorating took a little bit of time, but only because they're so small. I didn't mind, though. I love my boys to bits, but it's been nice having a bit of time to myself."

"They're coming back from Will's parents tomorrow, aren't they?" asked Emily, popping a cupcake into her mouth, closing her eyes at the explosion of chocolate.

"Yep. If our case hadn't held us up I'd be there with them too. There wasn't much point going for just a night. What about Jack? Is he with Haley's parents?"

Emily nodded. "We're picking him up from the airport tomorrow. He's having an early Christmas with them, which has been really nice for all three of them." She looked at Pen. "What did you bring, gorgeous?"

"So, at the risk of exposing myself to SSA Rossi's criticism, I have made a double layered panettone and ricotta pudding." Pen lifted off the lid to her creation with a flourish.

"Wow! Well done Pen!" exclaimed JJ as they stared at the bowl-shaped dessert. "Just tell me you haven't put any tofu in it," she teased.

Emily laughed as Pen gave JJ a mock glare. "I have not," she protested. And then she grinned. "Well, I did think of it, but hey, it's Christmas. I think we can be naughty just a little bit."

"Ooh." Emily went still, putting her hand on her the gentle swell of her stomach. "I think the babies are showing their approval of their Aunty Jen's cupcake."

"Aww, honey, that is so sweet." Pen came and gave her a hug and rubbed her belly. "I can't even tell you how happy I am for you and Hotch."

"Me too," said JJ. "What I want to know though, is when he's going to propose."

"What?" laughed Emily. "We've barely been dating and you're marrying us off already?"

"Umm… I think you've already skipped a couple of steps," interjected Pen, giving Emily's tummy a pointed look.

Emily rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her sparkling apple juice. "I don't want Hotch to propose just because I was drunk and slutty and he just happened to be in the right place at the right time." She frowned. "Or the wrong place at the wrong time."

Pen grinned, mischief obvious in her gleeful expression. "Oh, judging by the fact that he's looking at you like you are the angel on top of his Christmas tree, I'd say you're safe."

JJ hooted with laughter at the double entendre while Emily groaned loudly. "No more Christmas sexual innuendo, please, I'm begging you."

"What do you mean?" asked Pen, looking at her with innocent, wide eyes. "That was my first."

"Yeah, that was at least the third of the night for me. And they didn't even come from Morgan."

JJ snickered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and chewed. "I'm so tempted right now to ask what the other ones are, but I'll restrain myself. Someone has to be a lady around here."

Emily snorted. "Lady, my ass. Like you won't be riding your own Yule log tomorrow night after you've tucked Henry into bed."

JJ gasped, going bright red while Pen giggled helplessly.

"Hey ladies!" hollered Morgan. "When can we eat? We're starving over here."

"Five minutes!" Emily yelled back. "Pen, can you get the salad and JJ, the anchovy and parmesan cheese toasts. I'll get the rudolf pie."

Pen opened her mouth.

Emily silenced her with one look. "Don't even start. Hotch already beat you to it."

Her friend's eyebrows lifted. "What did he say?"

The brunette SSA winked. "Not much after I blew his mind."

Dinner was a success despite the ribbing Emily received as a result of her rudolf pie, but she was ultimately vindicated when everyone had seconds because it tasted so good. Then came the exchange of gifts, where the recipient of each team member's gift had been drawn out of a hat a fortnight ago. Pen was stoked with her complete set of Game of Thrones Lego minifigures, or Throne of Bricks, as they were correctly called. Both Reid and JJ coincidentally received kindle e-readers, although each was preloaded with vastly different reading material. Dave was over the moon with his vintage Royal Quiet Deluxe typewriter which was apparently the same model as the one Hemingway used. Hotch was given a pile of books for expectant fathers which he accepted with good grace. Morgan received an electronic butt toning device, which sent everyone into fits of laughter – and which no one claimed credit for. To say he was not impressed was an understatement.

It was Emily's turn last and she opened the silver and gold wrapped medium sized box with anticipation. Her eagerness turned into a frown as she pulled out more and more crumpled up brown paper. "If this is a gag gift, guys, I am not going to be happy." The box was extremely light, so it was completely possible that there was nothing in there.

And then she saw the small dark blue box and stopped breathing.

With trembling fingers she took the box out and looked up at Hotch, who was watching her with an unwavering gaze. The room was completely silent and the air heavy with expectation. Hotch reached across and took the box from her suddenly nerveless hands and opened it.

Emily gasped. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Even under the subdued lighting, the princess-cut diamond shimmered and shone its rainbow hues, accentuated by a platinum band studded with small, round, brilliant-cut diamonds. She sat in stunned silence as Hotch removed the ring and, pushing his chair back, went down on one knee.

He looked up into her eyes, the intensity in his making her heart race. "Emily Prentiss, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? And yes," he admitted, "of course I want to marry you so that I can take care of you and the babies, and make sure that none of you could ever want for anything." Her heart clenched at that statement. He knew that it would have been her first thought, and had addressed it first. "But most of all, I want to marry you because I love you. You are my everything. You are all my Christmases to come." His voice had been deep and strong and sure until that last sentence, and the slight unsteadiness there told her of the strength of his emotions that he was holding in check.

She looked into his dear, familiar face and the love that blazed from his dark eyes and suddenly, all the anxiety and nerves disappeared. In the end it was the easiest decision she had ever made. "I love you, too. Yes," she said simply.

And as his mouth claimed hers amid the cheering and whistling of their dearest friends, she knew, even if she had not experienced the joy that filled her to overflowing, that this Christmas was going to be one that she would remember for the rest of their lives.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to my dearest readers. I hope the coming year is one that is filled with happiness, good health and prosperity for you all!