Family Ties

Disclaimer: I never have, nor never will own Criminal Minds.

Summary: An adventure of a very pregnant Emily versus the washing machine...

A/N: This really is the final chapter in this series, it was a short prompt.

Thanks for reading, don't forget to leave a review.

"Family is just accident... They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are." Marsha Norman

Emily groaned as she bent over picking up the discarded clothes of the little boy she loved as her own.

"God, what the hell is that smell?" she muttered, shoving the dirt stained soccer uniform into the laundry basket, "Oh boy."

Looking a bit green as she kneeled down to pick up discarded sock after sock, she placed her hand on her protruding stomach, "Promise me, baby, promise me."

"Promise what?" Hotch asked, leaning on the door frame watching as the messy bun of brown hair turned to look up at him, "Honey what are you doing?"

"Picking up Jack's dirty clothes," she answered matter-of-factly, "Let me tell you one thing, sweetie. I love that boy more than anything on Earth but he's a little stinker."

"How so?" he asked, walking over to help up the pregnant brunette.

"Jack is a boy," she told him while he moved a strand of her messy hair behind her ear, "And boys are pigs."

"Well he is seven" he chuckled leaning down to give her a kiss, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?"

Looking down at her messy attire, "Oh yeah, I'm smoking hot with the added baby weight and I look like I haven't showered in about a month."

Hotch gave her a dimpled smile, "You are the most beautiful mother-to-be I have ever seen," he watched as she blushed, biting her lower lip, "Even with toothpaste in your hair."

"Toothpaste in my..." her free hand reaching up to the bun, "Ugh, that's just great. How long has that been there?"

Shaking his head, she pursed her lips ready to let him have it. After all, how long had he known that there had been toothpaste in her hair and hadn't informed her of that little embarrassment.

"Honey, you really shouldn't be doing all of this," he told her leaning over to pick up the green laundry basket, "I told you, you're only job now is to rest."

"Rest?" she repeated with a raised eyebrow, snorting at that, "Honey, I haven't had any rest since the second I hit third trimester. I'm always tired, I'm always hungry and I'm not going to bring our baby home to a pigsty."

"Which is all the more reason to let me hire a temporary maid until the baby comes," he told her tightening his grip on the laundry basket, "Emily, you should rest, not be up on your feet."

Looking down at the flats, "I know my ankles must like the size of watermelons," sighing, "If I could see them that is."

Hotch smiled at that, placing his finger under her chin, "Honey, you are still as gorgeous as you were the first time you came into my office."

Rolling her eyes at that, "Then let me at least do the laundry, it calms my nerves."

"How does it calm your nerves?" he queried.

"I don't know," she murmured, "It just does. Why don't you go and pick up Jack from Jessica's, it's almost time, while I finish up the laundry then make lunch?"

"Hmm?" he hummed.

"Fine, I promise to think about letting you hire some extra help," she promised, "Just as long as it isn't Garcia."

He smirked at that, "Because you're afraid she'll redecorate the place?"

"That," she commented, "And add to the fact that she'll never want to move out, and keep our kids."

He paled at that thought, "Promise."

Once Hotch had left, Emily quickly gathered the rest of the laundry, separating them into three piles and set them aside starting with Jack's first since it was the least amount of the three.

As the brunette started the white washer, she maneuvered over into the kitchen to prepare for a quickly made lunch for her two favorite guys.

"Oh," the brunette winced, placing her hand on her heavy stomach, "You sure like to kick the crap out of my insides huh, baby?"

It wasn't as though she didn't love being pregnant, but their were just certain things she didn't appreciate. For one thing there was the weight gain, another happened to be the pain in her back.

But the worst thing? That had to be the fact that if she didn't always feel so tired she'd be antsy with the urge to jump Hotch.

Yes, she was always in the mood. And that wasn't necessarily always a good thing. Not when she had an inquisitive seven year old running around the house, especially when she was about to pop at any moment.

As the baby kicked up a storm, Emily shoved the last of the smelly clothes into the washer. Turning the dial until she hit the normal setting she poured the detergent in, she closed the lid and rest against the machine.

Instantly closing her eyes, she felt the smooth churning from the white machine vibrate against her back. Rocking her gently as a wave of emotions ran through her hormonal body. Lulling her into comfort, something that she got from Hotch but hadn't really felt in her emotional state for a while.

The brunette's dark eyes opened, reaching down for the step-ladder she carefully stood up and climbed up on to the spinning machine. With her back against the wall, her eyes automatically closed as the whirling sensation rocked her to a peaceful content of sleep.

Hotch stood in the doorway to the laundry room a smirk on his face when he saw Emily's head tilt to the side as the washer stopped.

Slowly walking over to the snoring brunette, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, his thumb tracing over her pink pouting lips.

"Emily?" he murmured, leaning down to kiss the sleeping woman, "Wake up."

"Hmm?" she grumbled, wondering who was waking her from her peaceful sleep, "What?"

"Honey, you really need to get off the washer," Hotch told her, "If you thought the recliner was bad, I think that the washer would be even worst then that."

"It's not that bad," she mumbled waking up then wincing, "Ok, so maybe it is. I just needed..."

"Needed what?" he asked, helping her carefully down, "Honey, why were you sleeping on the washing machine?"

As the brunette sat down on the step-ladder, she let out a frustrated sigh, "You're going to think this is stupid, or insane. Hell it is."

"What?" he asked, kneeling in front of her one hand on her cheek, tenderly stroking it the other on the wall beside him to keep himself balanced, "Honey?"

"I get comfort from the vibrations from the washer," she admitted embarrassingly, "I'm sorry if that sounds weird."

Hotch couldn't help but smile as the flush of pink from the embarrassment tinted her cheeks, "Emily?"

"I mean it's not a sexual thing or anything," she shook her head, "Maybe it's insecurities or whatever, and I'm sorry for being sneaky by doing this behind your back but I don't want you to think that I find more connection to a machine and not you..."

Hotch couldn't hold in the chuckle, he put on a serious look on his face when Emily flashed him an annoyed look, "But? I know there is a but coming."

"Yeah there's a butt," she muttered but cleared her throat, "Aaron, it just helps me relax. I don't feel like I'm this beached whale that has everyone looking at her like she's going to pop any moment..."

"Emily," he murmured, grasping on to her elbows pulling her close to him, "You are not some beached whale, you're a beautiful, pregnant mother-to-be."

"But..." she interjected only for him to place a finger over her mouth.

"It's alright," he assured her, "If sitting on top of a washer helps you relax, then so be it. I honestly don't understand why you would think I'd be mad, because I'm not" he kissed her forehead, "I actually think it's cute."

"Cute?" she repeated in disbelief, "You think it's cute that I'm an emotional basket case? Or that I like to pass out on the washer?"

"Well," Hotch slowly answered, his hands rubbing the inside of her arms, "Yeah, yeah I do."

"That's not funny, Aaron" the brunette retorted dryly, "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what, sweetie?" Hotch asked, "Honey, this is all new for you. You're body has been through a major change after another, not to mention that you're constantly chasing after a seven year old and to top it all off you're not more active on the job only sitting behind a desk. Emily, honey, look at me."

The frustrated woman turned her gaze upon the soft features of her partner, "You're only human. No one expects you to be Wonder Woman."

"Garcia does," Emily offered lamely.

"Well, as lovable as she is," Hotch told her with a smile, "She's an idiot."

As Hotch helped Emily stand up, he wrapped an arm around her walking her into the dining room to sit down at the table, and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Honey, you're just scared," he told her softly, "This is all new for you," Hotch ran his thumb tenderly across Emily's cheekbone, "I promise everything will be fine."

"We don't know that," she told him, exhaling, "I don't want to sound like a nag by harping on this Aaron but anything can happen..."

"You just have to trust in yourself and have faith," he told her, "You're only going to worry yourself into a frenzy if you keep picturing every worse case scenario."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, rubbing her temples, "I just can't help it, Aaron. I want everything to be perfect for all of us, and I have this big fear in the back of my mind that something's going to happen."

Hotch reached across the table to cup Emily's chin, "Honey, every first time parent has that fear. Believe me, I did before Jack was born. That's natural first time parent jitters. It will get better the second they put our baby in your arms, it will be worth it."

"Really?" she asked biting the inside of her cheek, "You're not just saying that, are you?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" he asked her, a hint of an impish grin appearing briefly which made her return his smile.

"Well you did once," she remarked offhandedly, surprising him, "You know, with that cooking incident?"

Hotch snorted at that, rolling his eyes, "I was being polite about your first time at cooking steaks, Emily."

"Nice way to deflect on my nearly giving you food poisoning, Aaron," Emily teased, her body relaxing as he stood up and came around the table to her, "But in all seriousness, are you sure everything will be ok with the baby? You're not afraid I'm going to screw up our daughter are you?"

"Well there might be a slight chance, you know with your mother being Elizabeth Prentiss," Hotch teased, pulling her up, "No Emily, I'm not afraid. You're already a great mother to Jack, I'm sure our daughter will be just fine."

"Good, now come on," Emily said pulling him towards the laundry room, "I've already agreed to getting extra help around here until the baby is born but there's one thing I really need your help on..."

"And what's that?" he asked standing in the doorway of the laundry room.

"Help me put Jack's clothes into the dryer," she told him, "Because if I get anywhere near that washer I'll never leave it."

Hotch sighed, moving to the now stopped machine, "You know I'm actually starting to think you like our washer more than you like me."

"Oh knock it off Aaron," Emily said, opening the dryer, "It's not like I'd kick you out of bed for it."

"That's a scary thought," he muttered, glaring at the white machine as he loaded his son's clothes into the dryer, "God, what the hell is that smell?"

"Your son, honey" Emily laughed, "That would be your son."

"Our son," he corrected, "Ours."

Emily grinned as she felt her daughter kick, sighing as Hotch closed the dryer and started up the machine. A repetitive sigh escaping her throat when she felt a new lull of comfort from the whirring vibrations that made her wonder would Hotch be jealous of the dryer too.

"Some family trees have beautiful leaves, and some have just a bunch of nuts. Remember, it is the nuts that make the tree worth shaking." Author Unknown

THE END

This really is the last chapter in this series. Don't forget to leave a review.