Hotch was finishing his third cup of coffee by the time he rolled in to Manhattan a little before dawn. The nearest available parking was a long walk from Beth's apartment. He hunched his shoulders against the cold and took advantage of this time to think things through.

He wasn't impulsive. He rarely made important decisions without almost excessive forethought. Was he really going to do this because of something Emily had said? Emily, whom he hadn't seen in a year and a half? What say did she have in his life?

But these thoughts only sped up his footsteps. Thinking was laughable. He'd had the entire drive to think. And he hadn't even needed that.

He checked his watch and figured Beth would probably be getting up anytime now for her early morning run, from which inclement weather (such as the current subzero temperatures) never distracted her.

Beth didn't answer at the first buzz, so Hotch spoke the second time. "Beth, it's me. Are you home?"

"Aaron? It's five in the morning. What's going on? Is everything okay? Never mind—just—come up. I'll see you in a second."

"Hey," Hotch panted at Beth's open door, having climbed the eight stories rather than wait for the elevator.

"Okay, first of all, why didn't you use your key—"

"Didn't want to scare you. Listen, Beth…"

His girlfriend, already dressed for her run as predicted, forgot about tying her hair in a ponytail and eyed him with her mouth hanging open. "Aaron, what's going on? I didn't write down the wrong weekend, did I?"

Hotch shook his head. "We need to talk."

Beth frowned but led Hotch to the leather sofa all the same. They sat next to one another. "Okay…tell me what's on your mind." She reached out for his hand. He didn't snatch it away, but he didn't squeeze back either.

"I'm sorry I came barging in like this, but…"

Hotch wanted Beth to say it for him. He could tell from the subtle widening of her eyes that she already knew. But he hadn't done a manly thing since letting this relationship go on past the point where it felt right. He had to say it himself.

"Beth, I need you to understand that I care about you and I think you're an amazing woman, but…but I've realized—actually, I've known for a long time now—that I'm not happy with what we have. I'm content, yes, but not happy."

Beth took a deep, controlled breath and let go of Hotch's hand. "What makes you say that?"

It was Hotch reaching for Beth's hand this time, hoping against hope that with a simple touch, he could prevent the tears and accusations he figured were to come. She moved both hands from his reach, though, tucking them in between her knees.

"What about this doesn't make you happy? Is it the distance?" she asked when Hotch didn't answer.

"It's not the distance. It's the spark…it's just not there anymore. And I know that relationships aren't always going to be exciting, especially as time goes on, but I really feel like what we have is just filling a void for me. I don't remember the last time that coming to New York was the only place I wanted to be. I hope you don't take this the wrong way—"

"There's a right way?" Beth interjected. "We've been together for two years, Aaron! Our anniversary's next week, and here I am, wondering if you're going to propose, and instead you show up at my door before the sun even comes up so you can tell me you're not only not thinking about marriage, but you don't want to be with me anymore? Seriously, is there another way I should interpret this?"

Hotch winced. "Okay, no…but I just don't want you to think that it's anything you did or didn't do. It's just not there for me anymore. I don't know how to explain it."

Beth strode down the hall to her bedroom. Hotch didn't know what else to do but follow.

"A couple of my friends have bets going on how you're going to propose and when," Beth said, sniffling as she stuffed an empty canvas tote with any of Hotch's belongings she could find. "One of them thought it would even be cute if you got Jack involved with it. And I put down—no, you know what, I'm already embarrassing myself enough by crying over you when you don't give a damn about me."

"I never said I didn't care," Hotch sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "You mean a lot to me, you really do. I do want to know how you feel. Finish what you were saying. You put down what?"

Beth continued to fill the bag with socks, underwear, t-shirts, reading glasses, and a couple of picture frames. "I put down a deposit for a venue for the ceremony and reception. Because I'm an idiot. Or, if you want to put it nicely, I guess I'm just a hopeless romantic. You know, someone who's been in a long-distance relationship for two years and believes her boyfriend when he tells her he loves her."

Hotch hung his head. "I thought I did. And when I wasn't…on fire anymore, I thought maybe we were just in a funk or something, but the longer it went on…"

Beth began to pack another bag with Jack's odds and ends from the guest bedroom, though these items she didn't handle carelessly. She held a stuffed elephant close to her heart, as if saying goodbye to her own child. "Is there someone else?" she asked, finally putting the elephant away.

"We haven't done anything about it because I didn't want to cheat, but yes. I do have feelings for someone else."

"Well, maybe you should warn her that your feelings tend to fizzle out."

"There's no guarantee she'll even take me, you know," Hotch pointed out, growing tired of Beth's digs. "We fought, and she asked me if I was happy with you, and I didn't even answer. I just left. So who knows if I'll even have her. But this needed to happen. I know it hurts, but this is the right thing for us."

"Good job, Aaron," Beth said condescendingly. "Unfortunately, I'm all out of gold stars. My last one just went to your new girlfriend for ruining a two-year relationship with one fell swoop, apparently without even having to kiss you or sleep with you. She must be a real catch."

"Enough," Hotch cut in. "I told you, I've been feeling this way about you and me for a while. This other person didn't come back into the picture again until just last night."

"Again? What do you mean, again? Is she an ex?" Beth asked, digging through dresser drawers for any of Jack's clothing.

"Somewhat, but is it really necessary to know all the details? Wouldn't you rather know less about her so you can hate her more? Honestly. If someone were leaving me for someone else, that's what I would want. I wouldn't want a picture of that person in my mind. The less you know, the better."

"That might be the only smart thing I've heard you since you got here." Beth handed Hotch the two bags she had packed. "I'll ship the rest."

"What do I tell Jack?"

This turned Beth's eyes red and produced more tears than anything Hotch had said so far. "I don't know, Aaron. Maybe you should've thought of that before you ended this for something that might only last one night."

"Even if Emily turns me down, I still think—"

"Emily? Former colleague Emily? Faked her death Emily?"

Hotch sighed at his slip up. "Yes."

"So much for not having the picture in my head. Well, at least it's not some cheap bimbo. I just hope you don't hurt Jack again. Because you know full well what this is going to do to him. As for this time around, just blame me. And I mean that. He needs your love more than he needs mine. Tell him I'm the one who broke it off."

"You know what I think?" Hotch asked calmly.

Beth didn't say anything, just glared at him as if to ask why he was still in her apartment. They stood face to face in the narrow hallway.

"I think that somewhere in there, you feel the same way about us. I think that if you really thought this relationship was worth saving, you'd be fighting for us instead of packing up my stuff right away. I'm okay with either reaction—I have to accept the consequences. But I think if you really loved me, we wouldn't be having this kind of conversation. And if I really loved you, then obviously I'd be thinking about taking the next step. That's just…my two cents."

Without another word, Beth opened the door and showed Hotch out. To his surprise, she followed him into the hall. "Still going for my run," she explained when Hotch did a double-take. He watched as she squeezed past him in the hall and jogged down the staircase.

Three Years Ago

"Hey, Daddy, when's Emily gonna come over again?" Jack asked Hotch one night at dinner shortly after Emily's funeral. Of course, it had to be when Rossi was over.

"Emily, huh?" Rossi asked, looking at his best friend in puzzlement.

"I don't know, buddy," Hotch said, palming the top of Jack's head. "If you're finished with your dinner, why don't you go get your PJs on for me?"

Hotch's depression had rubbed off on Jack over the last week. Jack didn't even try to argue his way out of putting his pajamas on. He just sulked off to his room.

To Hotch's knowledge, Emily was still in the hospital. No one would tell him, and that was for the best. He couldn't compromise the situation by letting one of Doyle's spies see him visiting the hospital a few days after a funeral they had surely been watching.

"What's Emily been doing here?"

"She, uh…kept an eye on Jack for an hour or so a few weeks ago when Jessica and Jack's babysitter were unavailable. I haven't stopped hearing about her ever since. He really likes her."

"So you haven't told him?" Rossi asked, though Hotch could swear Rossi didn't even buy Emily's death, either. But Hotch clearly couldn't ask without risking blowing the secret.

"I don't know how to tell him," Hotch said under his breath. "I just don't."

"Jack didn't know her very well. And you're gonna have to tell him eventually."

"I know. Maybe I just haven't processed it enough myself."

—

Hotch never did tell Jack anything about a death or a funeral. He told him that Emily had had to go away suddenly for work and it didn't look like she would be able to come back anytime soon.

At least that was a disappointment Jack was used to.

For now, to hide the truth, Hotch decided to keep his son away from anyone of consequence, hoping that this didn't go on for too long, that Doyle would come out of hiding, be killed or captured, and Emily could come home.

When Jessica asked why Jack kept talking about Emily as if she were still alive, Hotch had just told her that Jack had had a hard time with the news and asked her not to mention Emily's death to Jack, as it would just upset him further. If Jack happened to find out from some other adult, perhaps a teacher who kept up on the news and overheard Jack talking about her, then Hotch would be in trouble. But he just hoped against hope that it wouldn't be an issue.

By some miracle, the awful plan worked.

Late that summer, when Emily came back into Hotch's life, he thanked God not only for her safe return but for the opportunity to let Jack see her. Jack had long ago given up on the prospect of his father getting a new girlfriend and had seemingly forgotten about the kiss he'd witnessed. But he was unreasonably ecstatic when he saw Emily.

Hotch never told the team that he had not lied to Jack about Emily, that he had let Jack go on believing she was still alive. Emily was in shock over being back and didn't read into anything Jack asked her about going away for work.

Hotch had known for a long time that Emily's return wouldn't mean picking up where they lad left off and going on a fourth date. So he waited. Waited for a sign that Emily was feeling back to her old self again.

That time never seemed to come, and then Beth came along, making Hotch feel as light as air again. Furthermore, Jack had stopped asking about Emily after not seeing her for so long.

Hotch had taken these things as signs that he and Emily weren't meant to be. After all, what normal person would be able to get over everything they'd been through? He even convinced himself that he deserved someone with less baggage, someone who would enrich his life without confusing it. As it turned out, he was sorely wrong. The two years he spent with Beth weren't entirely wasted, though. He had learned a lot about himself and even about Jack.

But not a day with Beth went by that Hotch didn't feel Emily's absence.

Present Day

Jack pouted in his room that afternoon. He had locked the door and wouldn't let his father in. He loved Beth as much as any child knew how to love a mother. Beth's moving to New York had been hard on him, but it was utterly devastating for him to hear that he wouldn't see Beth at all anymore. He didn't listen to his father's explanation that he and Beth had just fallen out of love and it that had nothing to do with Jack. The boy was losing a mother all over again.

It broke Hotch's heart to see Jack so distraught. So much so that Hotch was tempted to get in touch with Beth and see if she wanted to take Jack for a weekend. But that would only prolong the pain on both ends. The mood in the room during the breakup didn't bode well for the prospect of continuing contact. Neither did Hotch's current feelings. Being away from Beth and having Emily in his sight's again was freeing. The only downside was the collateral damage in the form of his unhappy son that complicated Hotch's next steps.

Not that Jack's reaction had surprised Hotch, but now he felt a new sort of trepidation about trying to move forward with Emily. If she would even have him, how would he be with her without risking Jack being robbed of a mother for a third time? Hotch wasn't a fan of this added sense of responsibility, but he kept it in mind all the same as he began to plan.

—

When Emily started at her new post at the D. C. Field Office on Monday morning, she was running purely on caffeine. She'd spent the entire weekend trying to get back on Eastern time and forget about her conversation with Hotch and how he'd walked away, but sleep had become a stranger.

"Agent Prentiss," an intern said, knocking on her office door while she was getting to know a little bit more about a couple of her agents, one male, one female. She could see the agents trying to hide awkward smiles as the intern placed a large arrangement of pink and red tulips on her desk.

"Boyfriend? Husband?" the female agent asked. Already, she reminded Emily a little bit of Garcia.

Emily was so exhausted that her brain didn't even realize the possibility that the flowers could be from Hotch. She plucked out the card and grinned. "My dad, apparently. Sorry about that. You were saying, Agent McLean…?"

The male agent continued telling Emily about his past experiences in the field. Emily had almost every bit of information about him that the Bureau did, but she liked to meet her team in person, not on paper.

She took the flowers back to the hotel that night to avoid any further awkward questions. Once in her pajamas and drinking wine from a travel coffee mug, she opened up her computer and continued her search for a house in the suburbs. Again nothing jumped out at her, but she got distracted a few minutes in when she got an email from her father.

"Emily, you called back instead of emailing. Are you feeling all right?" George Prentiss teased.

Emily laughed and sunk back into her pillows. "Hey, Dad. Your email actually reminded me—I wanted to call and thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful. Way to get my entire team whispering about my love life, though. Next time, try yellow."

George laughed nervously. "Honey, I'd love to take credit, but I didn't send you any flowers."

"Come on, Dad."

"Like I said, I'd take credit if I did. Now, about that email. Did you read it? Your mother wants to plan a welcome home dinner for you and you've been ignoring her calls."

"It's called screening calls because I'm at work," Emily said, rolling her eyes at her mother's behavior. "A dinner sounds nice. I miss you guys. How about Friday night?"

"Friday night sounds perfect. How's the new job?"

Emily indulged her father in a little more small talk before saying goodnight.

Who are the flowers from? she wondered.

And then it finally clicked. How can one person be that tired?

She hadn't let herself think much about him at work. It seemed to be a handy built-in defense mechanism that had allowed her to focus what little energy she had on meeting her new team.

She started to dial his number, one of the few she actually knew by heart, but she stopped herself, not sure of what she even wanted to say to him. Clearly, he was sending her a signal that he was ready to start over. So he'd broken up with Beth. But the way he'd walked out on Friday night still had her feeling humiliated. And why had it taken him two days to decide? Had he really had to think that hard about it?

She had to put her phone on the opposite nightstand that night to avoid the temptation of calling him. She succeeded. The next morning, after a good night's sleep that Hotch couldn't keep from her if he'd called her himself or had even come to her hotel room to tell her he loved her, Emily went back to work feeling a little more prepared for her day. She still hadn't decided whether to call Hotch or what she would say if she did, but at the very least she could be a better unit chief today.

But the same intern knocked on her door with more flowers from "Dad" that evening. No one was with her in her office this time, but she could still see other agents gawking through the window at the pink and red blooms—roses this time. Two dozen of them.

She shut her door before she dialed Hotch, ready to give him a piece of her mind about embarrassing her at work. But then she heard his voice.

"I was beginning to think I'd never hear from you again," Hotch said quite seriously when he picked up.

I have a team to run, Hotch. I can't have them guessing who my secret admirer is, she wanted to say. But the soothing tone of his voice, the honesty with which he spoke, distracted her from any yearnings to pick a fight.

"What exactly is going on?" she finally asked. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Have dinner with me tonight. I would say 'no pressure' but I'll be honest instead. I want to talk about us."

"That's probably a good idea," Emily said, her heart racing with such speed that her chest almost hurt. "There's no way I'm getting out of here before eight tonight, though."

"Same here. Jack is with Jessica for the night. How about the Taco Bell by your hotel?"

"Taco Bell? Really?"

"I've got a craving."

"All right…umm, I'll see you around eight-thirty, then. You're buying."

—

Emily didn't remember to tuck her ID badge into her purse until she saw Hotch standing outside the restaurant crawling with teenagers. He looked extremely out of place in a perfectly fitted suit.

"Hey," he said with a genuine smile.

She tried to smile back, but the knot of tension in her gut turned her smile into a grimace.

"I was kidding about Taco Bell. There's a nicer place across the street. Just wanted to see if I could get you to agree to fast food."

Emily laughed under her breath. "Nice. Let's go, it's freezing."

Together they crossed through traffic and arrived at a Thai restaurant.

"This is really not my week for catching on to anything," Emily muttered when she realized what restaurant they were in. If she hadn't tried to end one job and start a new one halfway around the world in the span of four days, if she hadn't been kept up all weekend thinking about Hotch, she would have had her head on straight and realized that right near her hotel, across the street from Taco Bell, was the Thai restaurant where they'd had their first date.

"Took you long enough," Hotch remarked, holding the door.

"I'm so out of it right now, you wouldn't even believe…"

The hostess seated them by the kitchen. Both parties were grateful for a little extra noise, given the nature of the conversation to come.

"So, uh, what was with the tulips and roses?" Emily asked, browsing her menu.

"Red and pink flowers, like what—"

"Like what you sent me after our second date, I know. But you didn't send me tulips or roses back then. You sent me calla lilies."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I remember those flowers like I got them yesterday. They sat on my kitchen counter until they were brown. Actually, I think they were still there when I left for Boston. I never tossed them."

"We'll, I'm sorry I didn't remember the specific type. I thought the color would be hint enough. Do I earn some points back if tell you that you're wearing the same dress you wore on our only other date here?"

Emily looked down at the simple black wrap dress that she loved because she could wear it all day without any seams digging into her body. She'd recycled almost her entire wardrobe over the last few years, but now she knew why she had kept this dress. When she looked back up at Hotch, she saw his hand sneaking across the table. She granted him one of her own to hold. "Yeah, you earn some points back. A lot of points, considering I didn't even notice."

Hotch chuckled. "Are you sure you're awake enough for this conversation?"

Emily swallowed. "We need to at least get through the basics."

A waitress came by to take their drink orders. Hotch showed no sign of letting Emily have her hand back. He stroked his thumb along the back of it, right on top of the table.

"Okay, the basics," Hotch said once they were alone again. "Number one…I ended things with Beth."

"I figured as much, but it's good to hear, all the same, just for my sanity's sake," Emily said, letting out a big breath slowly enough for Hotch to go on without noticing how relieved she was.

"It didn't go swimmingly, but it could've gone worse. She insisted I was walking away from something good, but I don't think she was as into the relationship as she thought she was. Anyway, I did it Friday night—well, early Saturday morning. I drove out there once I sobered up. I hope you don't think I sat on the decision all weekend."

"Actually, I kind of did think that until just now."

Hotch offered an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I wasn't happy with her, and I knew that long before you asked me. But she didn't do anything to deserve being dumped, so I had to do what I could to show her respect. I had to do things right. I had to end it in person, and I had to end it before things went one step further between you and me."

"So you didn't spend all weekend deciding whether you were going to send me the wrong flowers?"

"Very funny. That actually brings us back to the basics."

"Okay."

"Number two out of three. I want nothing more than for us to try again. I didn't sit on that decision, either. There's more to think about than just the two of us, but that extends beyond the basics, and that's why I had to take a couple of days to think it over."

Emily nodded, her mind not yet registering what Hotch was saying. She was experiencing a bit of a lag time despite the importance of the conversation. "Okay. And number three?"

Hotch licked his lips and brought his other hand to the center of the table. He studied the way Emily's hand disappeared between both of his, admired her slender wrist, and felt the torn up fingernails that told him she was indeed stressed. "You're biting your nails again."

"Number three, Hotch."

"Number three is…" Hotch stopped and took a big breath, making sure he had Emily's eyes on his. "Number three is that I love you."

Emily had expected the news of the breakup and that Hotch would want to get back together. She hadn't expected such a proclamation tonight, though. The sentiment didn't surprise her at all, as she loved him so much it had made her sick to her stomach to see him with another woman. She just hadn't foreseen him saying it. Not yet.

"I know it's really soon," Hotch said, already anxious from Emily's non-response. "But it's the truth. I owe you that. A lot more than that, really…"

Emily hated to draw attention to herself in public places, but she picked up her chair and moved it so that she sat next to Hotch instead of across the table.

The fatigue that wracked her body, mind, and heart was vanquished by the spine-tingling kiss she laid on his lips. She hoped that said enough for now. She knew if she were in Hotch's shoes, she would be sweating over not hearing the l-word returned right away, but she wanted to surprise him. It could wait.

"So you're not…upset with me for leaving Friday night?" Hotch wondered, taking a while to form his words.

"I would have preferred not to spend four days in limbo, but you did you had to do. It's over now. If this is going to work between us, then there's a whole lot of forgiving and forgetting that has to go on. I do have one question for you, though," Emily said, staying seated by Hotch and sharing his menu.

Hotch slipped an arm around Emily's back. "What's that?"

"How do I know I'm not just a rebound?"

"Easy," Hotch said without looking up. "Beth was my rebound from you."

"Well, that's very sweet, but how much basketball do you watch?"

"None. Why?"

"Rebounds aren't a one-time thing, Hotch. You can miss shot after shot after shot, especially if you're under too much pressure. Say something to convince me this isn't some spur of the moment thing."

Hotch could tell that Emily was in serious need of some reassurance right now, and with good reason. He respected this and took his time in formulating his answer. "Can I show you instead? This was actually part of another plan, but it can work for this, too."

"What other plan?"

"Remember when Jack crashed our third date and I told you I'd make it up to you?"

Emily nodded. "And then I started distancing myself and disappeared?"

"That, too. Well, I found a way to make it up to you. Hopefully."

Emily was still interested in knowing how Hotch planned to show her that he meant business, but she was already sure that by his side was right where she wanted to be. She weaved her arm through his. "Okay. But can you feed me first? I want one of everything."

—

Hotch drove down an unplowed suburban street. Ice and snow crunched underneath his tires. Emily sat in his passenger seat, watching the houses roll slowly by.

"So what's this all about?" Emily finally asked, covering Hotch's hand on the gearshift and letting her fingertips dance over his. "You've got me very curious."

"Well, how's the house hunting going?"

"Ugh. Don't get me started. I can't find anything in my price range. Anywhere nice with a reasonable commute is just as terribly priced as the city. And nothing has character."

"Not even this neighborhood?"

"This one's very charming," Emily admitted, "but there's nothing for sale in this area. I looked."

Hotch pulled over to the right, stopping in front of a two-story brick home with a crooked snowman whose bent arm waved for everyone to see. No one was home.

"I did a little searching for you," he said. "I know you're busy at work and finding the perfect house can be stressful. So I thought I'd help you out."

"There's no for-sale sign."

"It's not really on the market, but it's kind of complicated."

Emily took in the house for a few moments, then turned back to Hotch. "So this is supposed to not only make up for Jack crashing our third date, but also convince me that you're committed? I'm lost."

Hotch nodded. "It's really a bonus that you're so tired. I get to enjoy every reaction a little more because it takes you so long to get there," he said with a chuckle.

Finally, Emily's eyes opened wide in realization. "This is your new house," she said softly, turning away from him again to reevaluate it now that she knew what Hotch meant. She felt his chin on her shoulder, then his lips behind her ear.

"It is. But here's where I said things would get a little complicated. Jack is still understandably upset about Beth. My problem isn't that I broke up with her too easily, it's that I got too close to her too soon, and let Jack do the same. I really just took the first woman I could find after you. I have absolutely no doubt that you're it for me, that I'm not just settling again, but at the same time it's shaky ground."

Emily rotated again so she could see Hotch, so she could run a finger through his salt and pepper hair that he'd finally stopped dying. "You're scared of hurting Jack again."

Hotch let out a troubled sigh. "I am. I'm not afraid that you'll leave, or that I'll leave. But I'm afraid of confusing him by admitting to a new relationship so soon, if in fact you do agree to it. I don't want him to feel like his feelings don't matter to me. If and when I get to introduce you back into his life again, I want him to be stable and happy first. I don't want to add to the turmoil he's going through right now."

Emily nodded. "Of course. I completely understand. And if it helps to hear it from someone else, you did the right thing by Jack by breaking it off with Beth now rather than later. If you'd kept on going, you might've eventually moved in together here or in New York and gotten married, and it would have been a lot harder on him if you were to end it at that point in time."

"You think I would've married her?" Hotch said, surprised but not doubtful.

"We all do crazy things when we get in too deep and don't know a way out," Emily said with a shrug. "I slept with a terrorist. Can't get much worse than that."

"Fair enough," Hotch conceded. "Thank you. Not for that, but for understanding about Jack. I did kind of need to hear from someone else that I'm not the worst dad ever. He's certainly not going to reassure me of that anytime soon."

Emily smiled gently and gave Hotch a sweet hug. "He loves you. He'll come around soon, I'm sure. I'll do whatever it takes to help you make sure he's comfortable and safe. I can get an apartment for now, month-to-month, and we'll just see where it goes. I'm all in."

"So slow and steady is all right?"

"Slow and steady?" Emily said. "Hotch, you just told me you loved me after taking me on three dates and kissing me twice, all three years ago. I think we need to redefine the word 'slow,' for sure. Probably 'steady,' too, come to think of it."

A deep laugh rose from Hotch's belly. "I wanted to be honest. From here on out, though, no rushing."

"So I don't have to say it back?" Emily asked with a playful twitch of her eyebrow.

"You're back on your game and I'm not sure how I feel about that…"

Emily giggled. "I love…messing with you."

"Are we done here? Would you like a tour of the house?"

Emily nodded fervently and together they walked up the driveway, laughing over nothing.

She could picture herself in each and every room Hotch showed her—in the kitchen making breakfast in pajamas on a Saturday morning with Hotch, waking up next to him in what would someday be their bedroom, watching Jack and a potential family dog chasing each other around the living room.

"What do you think?" Hotch asked with open arms when the tour concluded in the kitchen.

Emily stepped into the space he'd left for her and pressed the tip of her nose to his. "I only have one complaint."

"What's that?" Hotch asked, sneaking a kiss.

"The orange on the kitchen walls is hideous. It's gonna have to go."

"I'm so glad you think so. We can paint it tonight if you want."

"I know you meant that as a joke, but really, if I'm being honest with myself, there's no way I'm sleeping tonight," Emily said. "Let's paint."

Hotch watched, still unsure of what had just happened, while Emily put her coat back on. "We're painting the kitchen."

"We're painting the kitchen," Emily confirmed. "Have any colors in mind?"

"I was thinking a really pale green."

Emily smirked and squeezed Hotch's cheek. "I've always wanted a green kitchen. Okay. I think I can finally say it with confidence."

Hotch waited with bated breath, soaking in Emily's deep, chocolate eyes. "Say what?"

"I love…this house." With that, Emily walked out the front door.

"I know I said you didn't have to say it back, but really…" Hotch trailed off as he locked up. Emily was crouched over by Jack's snowman, inspecting his shriveled carrot nose.

"Wondering how long I'm going to leave you hanging?" Emily teased.

"That would be a good way of putting it, I suppose."

Emily shrugged. "You kept me waiting Saturday through Tuesday, which would be four days. So I wouldn't hold your breath."

Hotch opened the passenger door for Emily. He paused before moving on, leaving room for Emily to say it.

"You really want me to say it, don't you?" Emily asked, getting back out of the car. She leaned against it, getting road salt all over her coat.

"If you say it, I'll let you pick the exact shade."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "You're a man. All pale greens look the same to you. I don't see how this is a sacrifice."

"I'll get you a Snickers at the checkout."

"Ooh, big spender. I love Snickers."

Hotch's nervous smile was beginning to look pathetic. "This is stupid. I don't know why I'm so hung up on it. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's endearing. Your insecurities humanize you. Some people do actually think you're a robot, you know."

"All right, all right. I don't know how this turned into bullying me, but let's get going."

"I love you."

When Hotch turned around and saw Emily standing there with a victorious yet serene smile on her face, everything was as right as it was the first time he'd ever kissed her. "Was that so hard?" he asked.

Emily shook her head. "Nope. Easiest three words I've ever said to anyone. I just like watching you squirm, remember?"

A/N: That's all, folks. Hope you enjoyed this and enjoy #200! Please leave a review. :)