Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for; Ways To Say - 34. "That's okay. I bought two."

AN - This is an AU where Emily didn't have to go into WitSec - she got the jump on Doyle before he could stab her.

Word Count without AN - 1825

Undeniable

It was a slow realisation. It crept up on him so stealthily that he didn't notice until it was undeniable. He didn't know when it started, but it became habit for the words, "Prentiss, you're with me," to fall from his lips.

She was just… always there.

She took his anger and suspicion when she joined the unit, and kept the team's secrets even though it could have been detrimental for her own career, when she had no reason to be loyal to any of them.

She stood by his side, a silent support after Foyet's attack. She drove him to and from work without making a big deal of it, and she asked for nothing in return.

She didn't fuss over him after Haley died, but she was still there. Ready to be whatever he needed, whenever he needed it.

She was a large part of the reason he was able to get through those hardest of months following the funeral, and the transition back to unit chief.

And then, she wasn't there anymore. She was suddenly busy whenever he called her, distracted at work and even more closed off than normal.

He didn't know what to make of it, but he tried to give her space.

He'd thought that she'd come to him eventually with whatever was bothering him.

That was his mistake.

Emily sat in an interrogation room at the Interpol office, rolling her eyes at Clyde. He was reprimanding her for the fourth time for going after Doyle alone. Seriously, she'd got that he was pissed after the first lecture, the subsequent three were surplus to requirements.

Then again, she knew that when she finally got out of this holding pattern, she'd have to face the BAU team, and she really wasn't looking forward to that.

"Clyde," she murmured, interrupting him mid sentence. "Say something new, or hush up, would you? I've got a headache."

He sighed, sitting down at the table. "You know it was stupid, right?"

She shrugged, wincing then the movement made her t-shirt rub against the brand mark Ian had gifted her with before she'd got the jump on him.

"I got the job done, and I'm still alive. It might not have been the best way to do it, but I didn't have many options."

He nodded. "True enough."

"Are we done?" she asked. "I've given my statement, I've nothing to add."

"Eager to get back to the BAU?" Clyde asked, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"Not even close," she admitted. "I don't even know if I still have a job there. I've a feeling the team are gonna be pretty pissed that I went 'rogue.'"

"Hotchner isn't going to sack you," Clyde muttered, rolling his eyes. "He's been sitting outside since you got here."

Emily startled. "What? Why?"

"I imagine he wants to talk to you. The rest of your team were here as well, but they left when we hit the nine hour mark."

"Clyde… we've been here for seventeen hours. He hasn't been there the whole time?"

When Clyde nodded, Emily groaned. "Why didn't you send him away?"

"We tried. He's as stubborn as you are."

"Bloody hell. Are we done?"

"Yep. You'll have a commendation added to your private report for a take down well done," Clyde added as an afterthought. "As much as I've lectured you, it was a job well done, Em."

Sighing tiredly, Emily retorted, "Yeah. Tell that to the team that think I betrayed them."

He was waiting for her when she finally gained freedom from giving her report. He stood up wincing at the stiffness in his body, and she felt a wave of sympathy. The chairs weren't exactly made for comfort.

"I'd have called you when I was done," she offered quietly as she approached him.

"Would you?" he asked, and she hated that it was a genuine question. "Why didn't you tell me, Emily?"

She shook her head. "Classified information," she replied. That was the official answer, at least. "And… after Foyet… I couldn't put you in more danger of a personal assault. Ian is, was, dangerous, and you have Jack to think about."

"I'm your boss, Em, but more than that, I'm your friend. You could've come to me."

She nodded tiredly. "I know. But… I won't be the reason for you to be put in more danger than we're in because of our job. I won't, Hotch. I can't."

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping closer still. "Have you seen a medic?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Tired. Wired."

"Come on, Em. I'll take you home."

She followed him out to his car in thoughtful silence. She'd expected more reprimands than he'd given her, if she was honest.

"Em?"

She blinked. "Hmm?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, Hotch. Really. It's just been a really long few weeks."

They got into the car and Emily winced again as she put her seatbelt on. She hadn't lied to Hotch, she had seen a medic, but there wasn't much to be done for a brand mark aside from keeping it clean. She could have it removed, later, but she wasn't sure if she would.

She'd always worn her scars with pride, after all, and no matter the way she got this one, it was still a hard earned mark of victory.

When they pulled up at Emily's apartment, she thanked Hotch quietly for the ride and got out of the car.

"Take a few days," he told her. "Call me if you need anything and come back when you're ready, okay?"

She swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. "I… thank you."

He nodded. "Of course.

Emily's stomach was in knots the following Monday, when she pushed open the glass doors to the BAU. She'd spoken to Penelope and JJ over the weekend, but she had no idea the kind of reaction she was walking into off the others.

Sitting down at her desk, she put her bag in the corner and sighed, running a hand through her hair. She felt disjointed, unsure in a way she hadn't since her first few weeks at the BAU and she didn't like it. There were a stack of files on her desk, and so she set to work, trying to busy her mind away from what would happen when Rossi, Reid, and particularly Derek arrived for work.

"Hey you," Hotch murmured when he arrived, forty five minutes later. "You're early this morning."

She jumped, turning to look up at him with a smile. "I wanted to be here before the guys. Nothing like walking into a room with everyone staring at you."

Hotch snorted. "Good point. Here," he said, handing her a coffee.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the coffee. "I was just debating making one."

He flashed her his dimples. "Now you don't have to."

Penelope chose that moment to bustle into the bullpen, giving Emily a wide smile as she did so. "The others are almost here. We have a case."

"Emily?"

Emily looked up from the book she was reading to find Morgan taking the seat in front of her. Hotch had kept her close during the case they'd just solved, and this was really the only time Derek had had a chance to approach her.

"You didn't trust us to help you," he murmured.

Emily blinked. "Straight into it then," she muttered. "Look, I'll tell you what I've already told the others. Ian Doyle was my fight. Like Foyet was Hotch's fight. I started the fight years ago, and he forced me to go back to what I used to do to finish."

"We could've helped," Morgan argued.

"No doubt," Emily agreed, startling him.

"Then why -"

"Because I couldn't risk any of you getting hurt on my account. He threatened you, Derek. Every single one of you. He was going after families, and he threatened mine. Be mad at me for keeping secrets if you must, but I'd do the same thing all over again if it meant protecting all of you."

Derek snorted, shaking his head. "How can I be mad at you after a statement like that?"

She smirked at him, before burying her head back in her book.

"That smells fantastic," Hotch said, as Emily opened up her lunch. She grinned at him, pulling the one she'd bought for him from the bag.

"That's okay. I bought two," she said, handing him the second. "I figured you would be hungry too."

"Em -"

"Eat, Hotch."

He nodded, sitting down beside her. "This case is a mess."

She nodded her agreement. "I know. But we'll get him, because it's what we do."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I guess so. You've made up with Morgan?"

"On the flight back from Montana," she said. "We're good. Everyone is good, I think."

"I'm glad."

They fell into a comfortable silence, and when Hotch shifted, and his thigh rested against Emily's, neither of them said anything.

"EMILY!"

"Fuck it all."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Hotch told his team over the radio, checking over his agent. "You are fine, right?"

Emily chuckled and nodded. "I'm good. Help me up?"

He gripped her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she confirmed, leaning into him for a moment. "That was a close one, huh?"

"Too close," he agreed, holding her against his chest for a few seconds before they both took a step back. "Come on, let's get back to the precinct and watch the interview. Hopefully we'll be able to go home tomorrow."

"Hey, Hotch, what are you doing here?" she asked, stepping back to allow him into her apartment. She re-locked the door, and followed him through to the living room.

"I… tell me if I'm off the mark and I'll leave," he prefaced, turning to meet her eyes. "But something is happening here, right? Between us, I mean?"

She nodded cautiously.

"Em… tell me what you want," he pleaded, taking her hand in his own. "Please."

She blushed, and turned her head away. "I… Hotch. It's not a case of what I want… I just want you. In any capacity."

He raised the hand that wasn't holding hers to her face, turning her gently to look at him. Moving slowly, so as not to spook her, he pressed his lips to hers.

It was a chaste kiss, more a promise of things to come, but it was still the best one Emily had ever felt.

She squeezed Hotch's hand.

"This won't be easy," he murmured against her skin. "But I feel like it will be worth it."

She nodded, pressing her head under his chin. It felt like he was made for her to cuddle. When he tugged her to the sofa, she went willingly, and curled up by his side.

"Takeaway and a movie?" he suggested with a small smile, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Sounds perfect."