AN: Hey loves! I wrote this before all the bs occurred. Takes place late season six and our team is still together like they should be. I hope it cheers you up a bit. I'm still so sad about Criminal Minds and our beloved team. :( Just a little bit of Hotch and Prentiss...mainly because I feel this desperate pull that has me going in their direction and I can't help it! But I usually ship them all at certain points! Please let me know what you think! I'd really appreciate it! Thank you very much!

I own nothing of CM and it characters.

/

The rain had been falling hard off and on all evening.

This was a storm that befell, expected.

The newscasters were parading the seventy percent chance all over every station since six that morning. Sky pitch black, no stars could be seen through the overcast.

It was after ten when Aaron Hotchner finally pulled into the wet, crowded parking lot of his apartment complex. He walked the steps to the main door, jacket heavy on his shoulders. The water slid down his slick hair, down the muscles of his neck, soaking his work shirt. He hadn't even bothered with an umbrella. There was no point, he'd thought. Maybe there was a small part of him that wanted the rain to wash away the lingering tension that followed him day to day. He could only hope.

The day was long, drawn out. No case but the paperwork was never-ending. He'd spent all afternoon at his desk, files piled high, as the pattering of the rain hit his office windows distractingly. Files Strauss, unrelenting as she was, wanted done weeks ago; leaving him getting up only a few times to refill his coffee and use the restroom. His team was up past their heads in paperwork too. So everyone was glad to call it a night when the time came, Morgan asking if anyone wanted to join him at the bar. Rossi, Reid, and Garcia agreed. JJ said she'd meet them there later, after she checked up on her son. Prentiss looked like she was thinking about it and told Morgan he might or might not see her, saying she was rather tired. Morgan picked at her like he always did, telling her she didn't know what she would be missing out on. Hotch kindly declined. Getting out probably would have done him some good, but being so used to his routine, he felt he couldn't say yes.

As he stepped through the door and made his way to the elevator, briefcase in hand, Hotch breathed a deep, jagged sigh. He was of course tired, but knew he didn't want to sleep. He'd lay there for hours, staring at his ceiling, mind reeling, nowhere near close to entering even partial unconsciousness.

Unlocking his door, he also realized he didn't really want to be here either. Jack was spending the weekend with Jessica and his grandparents. Alone again in his quiet apartment did not sound appealing, as much as he liked his own time. Tossing his briefcase and keys on the table, Hotch sat heavily on his couch, running a hand through his damp hair. At least an inch or two had grown over the past couple months. He couldn't seem to find the need to cut it quite yet.

Hotch looked around his lonely home, feeling lonely himself. He supposed he could watch television. Maybe fix some food but he wasn't hungry. The longer he sat there though, the more he felt he had to get off the damn couch and go somewhere; move around. His briefcase held reports that could be taken care of, but they were also things that definitely could wait. There was a desire to do something different; perhaps a change of scenery. Watching the clock on the wall tick away your life tends to get old very fast.

Having made up his mind, Hotch heaved himself up, changed out of his work clothes into jeans and an old sweatshirt, grabbed his jacket, gun, keys and phone, and left the building. Not knowing where he was going, he surprised himself by not caring.

So he walked. In the middle of the pouring rain, not thinking of the consequences, he walked.

The feeling of moving freely in the rain overcame him and he thought nothing about getting soaked to the bone. Rain always seemed to open his mind and calm the inner storms inside, at least for a bit. He felt he couldn't escape the troubles that hoard over him, encompassing him.

So he kept walking.

Soon a block had been covered, then two. Two turned into six. His feet carried him on with a steady pace. He kept an eye on his surroundings, watching the cars go by, the flashing lights. There were many people out, being that it was Friday night. Some were running to their cars or into buildings to get out of the rain. Laughter was heard as he passed a busy restaurant.

Hotch took a turn and found a park that filled up a block. He remembered taking Jack here several months ago when the weather was nice. Crossing the street, he made his way on the sidewalk that led into the depths of the big, grassy park. Everything was well lit, the pavement having tall lamps on either side every few feet. To the left of him, there was a playground jungle gym Jack loved to run around on. Seeing the oversized plastic toys made Hotch want to smile, thinking of his son. Only a few couples were walking along with umbrellas, holding hands and conversing about their days. Hotch kept his eyes straight ahead, his pace even.

The rain was slowing dramatically, now just lightly falling from the dark sky. Thankfully it was mid-spring and the moisture wasn't frigid. He didn't even feel a shiver enter his body. Course, he'd been somewhat numb to feelings of any kind. The air was soothing and fresh.

Coming into view was the big, beautiful fountain situated in the middle of the park. Water cascaded over five very large and elaborately carved tiers. Underwater lights around the bottom of the fountain made the water glow, lighting up the entire area. The sidewalk circled around it and expanded, leaving room for benches here and there on the edges of the pavement. Hotch slowed his walk even more as he came upon the expansion of damp cement. There was one couple standing close to the fountain, arms wrapped around one another in a loving embrace. Hotch walked around them to find an unoccupied spot, ignoring the slight pull in his chest.

The lights bathed on his face, the rushing water instantly calming.

A light sprinkle was all that was coming from the sky now. The clouds were sluggishly clearing.

As he took a few more steps around to the right, he found that he wasn't the only one on that side. A woman was leaning forward against the outer lining cement of the old fountain. Her arms rested on top of the base that came up to her middle, as she looked down into the water. Her hair was dark and damp from the earlier downpour. He could see the strands glisten in the light. Moving closer, Hotch felt a familiar wave wash over him. She was tall, wearing graceful heels and a long black overcoat. Most likely wearing a dress, her legs could be seen under the coat.

Another step closer, Hotch turned his head a bit, catching the side of her face. He blinked, his breath caught for a moment.

Barely finding his voice, he whispered, "Prentiss?"

With the noise of the fountain, his voice went unheard. He shifted forward cautiously, swallowing.

Almost like an intuition, she turned her head, feeling a presence behind her. He says her name again just as their eyes lock.

Surprise was in both expressions.

"Hotch!"

Emily Prentiss turns completely around to face him. Her coat isn't latched; Hotch catches a glimpse of a deep maroon, tight fitting dress that came down to lower thigh. Her bangs were swept to the side, a few pieces sticking to her forehead. Water was dripping off her tendrils every so often. Eyelashes, long, thick and black, fluttered. There was a gleam in her orbs that he rarely sees. Her cheeks had a blush about them. The lights hit her just right, making her glow. The expanse of creamy looking skin at her neck and chest went unhidden due to the low cut dress. She seemed utterly unfazed by the rain. What a difference off duty does to the team. He'd always thought she was attractive, but something struck a chord inside him, making him experience what he would by no means feel towards her.

Hotch's movements stop as they were just a few feet apart. He stares at her as he has never done before.

She was the last person he thought he'd see tonight.

Emily smiles suddenly; her face bright and comforting, full lips red and shiny. He watches as her eyes drift over him, examining his half soaked jacket and worn sweatshirt. Different from what she's used to seeing. But she liked it. She had to admit, despite the dampness, he looked good; more than good, if she was being completely sincere. The already tight sweatshirt clung to his chest just right. He came across as somewhat less troubled, perhaps more human. The ever faithful scowl was not as noticeable; the crease in his brow not prominent. His lips were held open a pinch as his breath entered and exited softly. His hair was a little unkempt; she could see that he must have run his hands through the black strands. The rain did not look like it was bothering him in the slightest.

She couldn't fathom what he was doing here, though. Then again, she didn't really know why she was here either. She bit her bottom lip, feeling his unusual stare. He hasn't spoken. She looks to the ground, then back into his face.

He was the last person she thought she'd see tonight.

His eyes were flowing over her; a look she's never honestly seen from him crosses his face. She can't name what it is, even with the profiler on her badge. But she could feel a quiver in her chest that wasn't and hasn't been there before. To her knowledge, that is.

"Hotch, what…what are you doing here?" It was all she could think of to say. The instant it's voiced, she feels like an idiot.

He blinks, quirking his head to the side. And out of nowhere, he flashes a small grin. Well, that was unexpected. But a dimple appears, easing and putting to rest anything that comes close to awkwardness.

"I ought to be asking you the same question, Prentiss."

Hotch takes the few steps closer when she doesn't answer, now by her side at the fountain. "Weren't you going to the bar with the rest of the team?"

Now standing not twenty inches apart, Hotch could see her wide eyes. He could count the water droplets resting on her chest. Not that he was. There was a small smudge of dark eyeliner under her right eye where she must have rubbed with her fingertips to rid of the falling rain.

She scoffs, her eyes moving down, trained on the hard cement now back underneath her hands.

"Yeah…I…made it halfway, realized how tired I was, changed my mind again, drove around for a bit, parked my car three blocks back and started to walk. The rain seemed so much more welcoming than my apartment. Guess I wasn't all in the mood for Morgan's ego and Reid's philosophical outlook and facts on dancing and mating. I would have had to sit there and listen to Rossi's bad sexual jokes about women walking into bars, just to avoid Garcia trying desperately to drag me out on the dance floor with some random guy. I don't know why I didn't just stay home."

Laughing to herself, she raises an eyebrow as her gaze joins his again.

Hotch's grin reappears.

"And miss out on all of that?"

She rolls her eyes, switching her weight to her right leg.

"I mean I love it, our gang, I really do, keeps things interesting; just not tonight."

Hotch nods, understanding whole heartedly. "Yeah I know what you mean. Tonight's been…well, just…"

"Off." She finishes for him.

They both get it; the feeling of burn out. Everyone goes through it from time to time.

The black pools of his eyes bore into hers. Silence gathers around them.

She trembles unconsciously, but not from the fact that she was wet from head to toe.

Hotch notices. His eyes sweep over hers, watching her, observing her. Emily feels heat soar through her body, aware of her cheeks coloring.

Shifting his weight to the right, he's closer than before. Probably the closest they've ever stood.

"So rain was our only escape, wasn't it?"

His voice is deep as always but gentle, jolting her to the core. He presses his hands flat next to hers onto the cold, firm cement.

"I guess so…" She agrees with him, voice light, as he looks out into the fountain, a muscle in his jaw flexing.

She gazes out too, watching the water glide effortlessly over each slab; the way it glimmers as it falls into the bigger body of water, creating a ripple effect. It's really rather transfixing.

His very presence was enough for Emily. She didn't realize how much she needed it till he was standing right there beside her. All the worries seemed to fade. Work was just a mere blur in the distance.

He takes a breath while she lets one out.

There's the push and pull of their chests as they steal then give back the air around them.

His voice comes out almost a whisper, shaking her out of her reverie.

"I couldn't stay…I didn't want to. My apartment was just too...wasn't where I wanted to be. I needed to get out for a while."

Emily turned back towards him, left arm falling away to her side as she went; wanting her stance to be open to him. Silently, she reveled in the idea that he's slowly letting someone in; letting her in of all people. Hotch never strayed from being private. There was a brick wall surrounding his stern façade at all times. She's surprised he's open with her. They've hardly ever had these kinds of talks before.

He continues, still looking down at the bright water.

"I…I feel like I've got to get out of the same routine when it comes to going home. I don't enjoy it and I know Jack doesn't when he is with me and even when he's not. Obviously we don't lead normal lives with our jobs and what we deal with. Handling it on the scene and at the office is one thing. But when you…take it home with you without meaning too, the truth of it all can really get to you. Especially when you're alone…"

He brakes off, hoping, knowing she would understand.

She knows exactly how that feels and her reply is soft.

"Especially when you've handled it all times before; makes you feel like you're losing your grip. Home, alone, leaves your mind racing. The thoughts can suffocate you…" She stops here; shaking her head, making a few drops fall from her hair; she needed to say something different.

"Hotch; you know…we're not alone in this."

He grasps onto her words, reminding him of the first of last year when she was reassuring him the boy wasn't alone even though he lost everyone. She was trying then and she's trying now, something he found he was immensely appreciative of.

He's glad she's not the type to reprimand him or talk him out of his feelings; he knows she goes home to an empty apartment too.

Nothing else really needed to be said about that. They both knew what each other meant. They had this in common, their feelings and emotions. They were in the same kind of boat. Hotch knew his whole team was.

When he turns finally, matching her stance, eyes colliding, Hotch fully comprehends the understanding and gratefully accepts it.

The intensity of his stare is almost too much. Heat flooded her head and body. He doesn't move. His eyes drill into hers unmercifully. He found he wanted to know her every thought. She looks down his face for a distraction.

Emily watches as he swallows, not meaning to follow the movement; her eyes carry with the action and what it does on his throat. His neck has always been very masculine and she notices a flush about the five o'clock shadow around his strong jaw line. Could he be blushing?

No of course not. Stoic was more his thing.

Emily lets her lips lift, a slow smile appearing. Hotch's scowl is no where to be seen; just a curious gleam shining in his dark eyes. He's really seeing her. She wanders what he's thinking.

The sprinkles are light as they fall, not unwelcomed, onto both bodies. Their clothes clung to their skin, holding them together. The later it got, the cooler it was becoming. The moisture combined in the air, hot and cold, causing goose bumps to form. Neither felt uncomfortable, though. They enjoyed the rain, felt it seep into their skin, marking them, becoming them.

Then out of no where, Hotch lifts his left hand, the tip of his thumb coming to rest lightly under the soft skin of Emily's eye. He strokes outward, in the tenderest way, wiping the make-up smear gone. The palm of his hand makes contact with her cheek for the barest of moments. Fingers brush at her silk hair.

All Emily can do is stand there, full lips parted in slight momentary shock and eyes mirroring his.

As his hand backs away, lowering back down to his side, Hotch's lips quirk at the corners, but only just.

"Thank you." Emily whispers, her voice coming out a breathy sigh.

A flicker of something that clearly crosses the imaginary line swirled in his eyes, taking her over. If she'd blinked, she would have missed it. She knew the look; she just didn't know the look on him.

"Thank you…Emily."

His mouth released her name quietly, leaving it floating in the air around them, mixing with the amount of humidity present.

Silence returns as their unwavering stare speaks to each other; telling them why they're really thanking the other.

Neither could distinguish how long they had been standing there.

Hotch could feel his skin tingle, the rain finally hitting him to his core. His sweatshirt felt ten pounds heavier. She was getting cold too, he could tell. She trembles slightly, breaking eye contact to look down at hers and his attire. A light, effortless laugh issues from her mouth.

"We are so gonna to be sick tomorrow, Hotch! And this dress will never be the same; so much for wearing it to a bar ever again. Oh well…" Licking the corner of her lip, she runs a hand down her thigh, feeling the dampness of the fabric. Straightening, Emily looks at his wet clothes, smiling even more.

He pulls at the bottom of his sweatshirt, shaking his head.

"Gives me an excuse to buy a new one…but nevertheless, we should get out of this now."

He looks one last time at the fountain, his scowl coming back in to play. Old habits die hard.

Emily steps back, scanning their surroundings, "Yeah, it's late and I don't have an ounce of feeling in my feet."

Hotch steps back too, turning away from the fountain.

"I'll walk you back to your car."

He watches her face as she tries to decline, and then makes him a deal.

"Okay, but only if you let me drive you home. My cars' heater works miraculously well and those long blocks don't sound as welcoming as they did before, do they?" She smirks at him.

"Alright…" He pauses, seeming to run over some things in his mind. "…Prentiss…Emily, if it means anything, you look beautiful."

Their eyes, dark as the night sky, find each others in the haze of the lights and mist.

"It does. Thank you, Hotch."

She looks away before it becomes too overwhelming and they start to walk back down the path leading out of the park. Paces even, they walk side by side.

She's not sure if she should say it, but lets it slip anyways. "You don't look so bad yourself, sir."

She silently praises herself when Hotch laughs. There's the dimple again.

Secretly, they both thank the rain, grateful for the distractions they desperately needed. It was unexpected, meeting one another at a fountain; both just needing an excuse to get away from their apartments and out of the holes they were in.

Unexpected but not unwanted.

Gradually they make it out of the park and soon close in on Emily's car. She throws her shoes in the backseat and cranks up the heater. And as they drive towards his place, with comfortable conversation and dripping hair, they realize their escape was something they could get used to; something that could easily happen again. She asks him how Jack's doing and they talk about him and his school.

When Emily pulls up in front of his apartment, Hotch apologizes for ruining her seats.

"Eh, they'll dry. So I'll see you tomorrow. We've got that meeting at noon, right?"

"Yes. I'm sure there'll be some hangovers from our team to deal with, so be prepared. That is if we don't show up with colds or the flu."

She smiles, laughing, "Yeah, there is that. A hot shower and sleep will do the trick. Get some of both."

"You too…Goodnight, Emily."

"Goodnight, Hotch."

He watches her drive away until he can't see her tail lights anymore. Walking the steps to his apartment for the second time that night, he felt weightless, despite the soaked clothes.

Reaching up to press the elevator button, he sees a small black smudge on his thumb. Smiling deep down, Hotch hears the elevator ding and he steps inside; his mind reminiscing Emily's eyes and laughter.

Unexpected, but definitely something he would get accustomed to.

/