A/n. This was written for the fanfic challenge "Writers of the Silver Screen Challenge" and my pairing was Emily and Hotch. Quite funny really as I joined the challenge to have a change and write about something a bit different outside of my usual Emily/Hotch pairing and I literally laughed out loud when I found I had been randomly assigned Hotch (I did choose Emily and the movie title "Some Like It Hot"). Of course I had to bring them together, I couldn't waste the opportunity with a title like that right?

Disclaimer: As always I do not own anything related to Criminal Minds and no infringement is intended.

"How much further to go?" She peered out of the windshield at the highway which stretched out before them as far as the eye can see. All around them lay flat plains of brown grass and bush which met up with the mountain ranges in the distance, the sky above them so blue that it almost hurt to look up at it.

"Well, since you asked me about 15 minutes ago, we're now about 20 miles closer." He never took his eyes off the road, the barren desert landscape around them reflected in his sunglasses.

She heaved a heavy sigh and leaned her head back on the headrest of their SUV.

"What is it Prentiss?"

"I'm bored. And before you suggest that I look at the case files again, I've done that, three times over. I've also played with all the games on my phone and read my three magazines. And I've had two naps. Can I drive for a while, please?" She was so bored she didn't even care if she was reduced to begging.

"Not much point now. We'll be there in an hour."

"Aargh! Hotch, you are so annoying! I asked you to let me drive hours ago." She could hear the plaintive whine in her voice but she didn't care. They had been cooped up in the SUV for the last eight hours and she was over it. "Sometimes I hate that you have control issues."

That earned her a sideways glance, but his expression was even more unreadable than usual with his sunglasses on. "Is there something else bothering you besides boredom, Prentiss?"

She glared at him. Not that he saw it of course, his eyes were already back on the road. "If you even say the word PMT, sir, my gun is loaded and in the mood I'm in, I will not hesitate to shoot." Whoa, even she heard the bitchiness in her voice then. No wonder Hotch thought it was 'that time of the month'. "Sorry. I don't know what it is. This horrible case, the fact that we're miles from nowhere in the middle of the godforsaken desert, the really bad food we've consumed on this whole road trip, everything! And the heat! It's so damn hot out there that the air conditioning is barely keeping up and it's at full blast. Have I mentioned that I hate the heat?" She said the last sentence in a sarcastic tone.

"A few times." His voice was mild. "I like the heat. Makes me think of summer holidays."

She grimaced. "You are certifiably crazy. Meanwhile I swear this heat is driving me crazy! I know, I know, I've told you I hate the heat about 50 times now. Ha, I bet you're starting to wish you'd brought even Reid along instead of me." Reid was back at the BAU recovering from a bad cold, helping them out from there. The rest of the team had stayed back in Vegas to continue to build the profile there.

"Starting? I think the thought first crossed my mind when you wanted to have a bathroom break before we were even an hour out of Vegas."

Her eyes narrowed. "If that was a joke, Hotch, it wasn't funny and anyway, that was completely your fault. I only drank the three cups of coffee to wake myself up because you wanted us to leave at 5 a.m. Of course I had to go after that."

"You know we need to get to the unsub's hometown as soon as possible to interview his remaining family and anyone else who knew him. And I was trying to avoid some of the heat. We should be there by two."

"Yes, except we're still going to be driving around so really, we're not avoiding the heat that much."

"Prentiss." For the first time there was an edge in his voice. Which was kind of amazing, since she had been complaining regularly for the last five hours. He really had the patience of a saint. Or the self-control of one, anyway.

"I'm just so hot!" She blew out a breath in annoyance. She was already down to a thin short sleeved blouse, so it wasn't like she could take any more layers off. Well, she could, she did have a camisole underneath, but that would be completely inappropriate. She had no idea how Hotch was managing to keep his jacket on in the almost warm interior of the SUV. If she didn't know better she would have sworn he was made of stone. She pressed the down button of the temperature control of the air conditioner despite it being at its coolest level already. "Is this even working? There is no way this is cold."

"EMILY!" Startled, her eyes shot up to his. She suddenly noticed his clenched jaw and the tension in his hands on the wheel.

A sudden wave of contrition swept over her. "Oh Hotch, I'm really sorry. You don't deserve this at all." How could she forget that he had had even less sleep than the five hours the rest of the team had had on average over the last four nights? "I'm just going to sit quietly now." She bit her lip, silently cursing herself for her attitude. She was normally always completely calm and composed. But a combination of lack of sleep, hunger and the heat was taking a toll on her.

There was silence for several minutes.

"I'm sorry, Emily. I didn't mean to snap at you." He turned to look at her. "You didn't deserve that."

She gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did. I can't believe you didn't do that earlier." Her smile widened to a grin. "If you did I would have shut up ages ago."

He didn't smile, but she saw the tension in his jaw and shoulders ease. "For the record, despite your ah, regular comments, I would still have chosen you over Reid. I'd probably have shot him after the first hour. At the very least I'd have knocked him unconscious."

She chuckled. "Yeah, he would have probably gone through his encyclopaedic knowledge of Nevada and its topography, climate, flora and fauna. In the first – "

"Hour," they finished together. Hotch actually smiled this time.

"I really am sorry for being such a pain in the butt, Hotch." A thought struck her and she put her hand on his arm in an impulsive gesture. "Hey, let me make it up to you. Dinner's on me okay?"

His eyes flashed down to her hand, not replying immediately. She suddenly realised what she had done and snatched back her hand. She could feel her cheeks heating. Why did she do that? She knew that her superior was not the touchy feely type, in fact that complete opposite. She couldn't remember the last time he had touched her, even in a handshake. And he was not a person that encouraged others to touch him. He was always slightly distant from his team, defences raised and shields in place, aloof. And ever since Foyet, he had become more and more withdrawn and grim. The only time she had seen him smile was when he was talking to Jack, and even then it was only a small one, not what she would have labelled a smile on anyone else's face.

"Sounds good." His deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Really?" Luckily he said nothing about her touching his arm.

"Really. Although I think I'm going to be getting a raw deal as my understanding is that the only place to eat out is a diner. There's one main street and the population is around 1500."

She looked at him suspiciously. His tone was dry, so she thought he had just made a joke. "All right, all right, you've twisted my arm, a dinner too when we get back to Vegas."

He glanced at her, his sunglasses preventing her from reading any expression in his eyes. "You would have failed hostage negotiation 101, Prentiss. I didn't even make an actual request."

She rolled her eyes. "This isn't hostage negotiation, Hotch, in case you haven't noticed. But I'm happy to withdraw my offer if you like."

"I accept your offer of dinner in Vegas. So you can't withdraw your offer now. Contract law 101."

That was definitely a joke. She looked over at him and was pleased to see the relaxed set of his mouth. Thank goodness for that. "I'm not arguing contract law with an ex-federal prosecutor and besides, I'm too tired to think. So if you want those dinners, shut up and drive."

She could have sworn his mouth twitched at this. They spent the last 40 minutes of their journey in companionable silence.

He stepped out of their SUV, the heat hitting him like a punch in the gut. He immediately felt a film of sweat form on his forehead and back. It was so hot that even his nostrils felt slightly singed from breathing in the air which felt superheated compare to the air in the SUV. He looked across at her, seeing her wince as the temperature hit her. There was a slight breeze, but it actually made it worse as it was like standing in front of a heater in an already oven like heat.

He heard his name being called and looked up to see a short balding man with a slim build walking up to them. It was the sheriff. After they had completed the introductions, he explained to the sheriff that they had a list of potential people whom they wanted to interview which they would be doing shortly but that they needed to also go through the records of assaults in the past three years to see if there was any pattern in them.

The next words the Sheriff uttered made the Unit Chief's heart sink. "I'm afraid we've had some problems with our computer in the last few days. There's someone working on them, but we haven't had any luck retrieving archived records, which includes anything before the last three months. But we have those on hard copy files, so you're most welcome to look. I'm sorry, I can't spare any officers to help you today as there's a bushfire near some of the outlying ranches and they've all gone to help out."

"That's fine. Thanks Sheriff. We'll be back late this afternoon if you can get the files ready for us."

He went down the street to the diner to grab them both some sandwiches and cold drinks while she used the facilities.

Four hours later, they drew up in front of the station which was almost in darkness.

"This is weird," she muttered as they got out of the car. After their last interview, they had both ditched their jackets in the back of the car. Despite the sun setting there appeared to be little respite from the heat. "The whole street's practically dark. Where is everyone?"

"I think they've all gone to help put out the bushfire in the north." He felt his cell buzz with a new message and pulled it out to check. Damn it. "The sheriff says there's a town-wide blackout but there is a generator which at the moment only runs in one of the interview rooms."

She stared at him. Even in the gathering gloom he could see she was open mouthed in horror. "What? No air-conditioning? Are you kidding me Hotch?"

"We can take the files and go back to the motel, but I doubt the air-conditioning is working there either."

She groaned loudly. "This is seriously the town from hell. Heat like no one would believe, no electricity and I'm pretty sure no proper food." She gave him a challenging look. "So do you still like the heat?"

He frowned at her, hoping she would take the hint because he was not taking the bait. "Come on, there's no point standing out here. Let's see what we can do in the next couple of hours then head back to the motel and get some rest.

She heaved a sigh. "You're right, but let's keep going as long as we can. I doubt I'll be able to sleep tonight anyway with no air-conditioning." She tied her hair up into a sort of loopy ponytail as she spoke.

They walked through the front door of the station which the sheriff had kept unlocked for them. It was dark inside but they could see a faint glow coming from one of the rooms down the corridor. She headed in that direction, Hotch following behind her.

The interview room was lit by a single fluorescent light fitting and they could hear the hum of a generator close by. Three large stacks of files sat on one side of the rectangular tables and there were two uncomfortable looking metal framed chairs on either side. The room was stiflingly hot.

"I take back what I said about not wanting to go back to the motel. At least it will have more comfortable chairs. We're going to be lucky to last half an hour, never mind two hours."

He privately agreed, but decided not to say so. She didn't need any more discouragement judging by the dejected set of her shoulders. "We'll just do what we can then come back tomorrow and continue. I saw a fridge in the front, I'll see if there's any bottled water there." Thankfully there was and they settled down, respectively opening their first file, bottles on the table in front of them. His only concession to the heat was to remove his tie, unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt and roll his sleeves up to his elbows. He was not stripping down to his T-shirt in front of her. That would not have been appropriate. And he was a stickler for the rules, even if it meant he might pass out from heatstroke.

Half an hour later, he looked over at her, ostensibly to see how she was holding up. He used the word ostensibly because about 15 minutes into their examination of the files, she had apologised, saying that she had to take her blouse off or she might just perish. He had nodded, managing to keep his eyebrows from raising. She was his colleague, yes, but he had seen more revealing skin at the pool. At least, that's what he told himself.

Apparently, his eyes hadn't gotten the message. Either that or his iron clad control over his body was experiencing a meltdown due to the heat. Because he had then spent the next 30 minutes trying not to look at the flawlessly pale skin of her almost bare shoulders and arms, gleaming slightly from a faint mist of perspiration. Neither did he miss the way her camisole was clinging damply to her upper chest, enough that he could see the lace detailing of her bra even in the dim light in the room. He was seriously considering calling off their session. His risk adverse brain was warning him that this was a sexual harassment suit just waiting to happen.

Rationally, he knew what he was doing was unacceptable, she was his subordinate for God's sake. And yet, even with all the warnings flashing in his head, he was unable to prevent his eyes from tracking a bead of sweat as it slid slowly down from just under her earlobe, then down the side of her neck and over her upper chest. Further down it went until it slipped under her camisole. He felt his body stir as his gaze rested on the slightly exposed upper curves of her generous breasts. He blinked at his body's reaction, forcibly tearing his eyes away from her. What the hell was wrong with him? It must be the heat. He had never, ever, had such thoughts about Emily, or indeed, any female colleague. In fact, it had been so long since he had been aroused by a real woman that he was starting to doubt whether he could even call himself a red-blooded male. Of course he had needs, but he had buried those deep, putting work and Jack above himself for the last two years.

He stared blankly at the page before him. Leave now before you do something you'll regret, said his rational voice, the one he had always listened to in the past without fail. Ha, like he'd even know what to do even if he allowed himself to do anything. He had only ever been with one person his entire life. He wasn't even sure if he knew how to date, never mind come on to a woman. The thought would have been laughable if it hadn't been so pathetic. He wondered what her reaction would be if he had made a move on her. Incredulous? Pitying? Probably both.

She emitted a moan of defeat, startling him into looking at her. "I'm so hot I think my brain's fried, Hotch. The words aren't even making sense anymore."

She reached over and picked up her bottle of water. He felt his mouth dropping open when she threw her head back and pour water over her face. The water streamed down her face and neck, soaking into her camisole and bra, turning them almost transparent. He smothered a groan when he saw the tips of her breasts tighten at the contact with the cool water. His unruly body needed no further encouragement, hardening in an immediate arousal.

It was like watching real life porn. But better. And hotter. Because the next thing she did was lift her hands up to slick her fringe off her face. The move tightened her camisole and bra over her breasts, outlining the tight buds in graphic relief. Holy crap. He almost swallowed his tongue at the sight.

"Hotch? Are you all right?" He barely heard her speaking. There was no way he could have dragged his eyes away from the sight of her perfect breasts at that moment even if someone had put a gun to his head.

"Hotch?" She repeated, wondering what he was looking at. "What – " She finally looked downwards at herself, where his gaze seemed to be locked.

And then she saw what he was looking at.

"Oh my God!" She jumped to her feet so quickly that she knocked her chair backwards. It hit the floor with a crash. She rushed to the door of the room, so embarrassed that she wanted to die. She was an absolute freaking idiot. She had been so hot that she could barely think, impulsively tipping the water on her face, not even thinking about the consequences of her actions. She had to get out of there. How could she ever face him again?

But before she could take two steps out of the room, she felt a hand grab her arm.

"Emily, stop." She stopped short but didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him.

"Emily, I'm so sorry. My actions were completely inappropriate. Please forgive me."

Her heart was still beating at a heightened rate and she took a deep breath.

"Please, will you look at me?"

She didn't want to, but his hand was gently and yet firmly drawing her around to face him. She pulled her arm from his grasp and crossed them over her chest, having nothing else to shield herself with. She kept still, her eyes averted, feeling so embarrassed that she wanted nothing more than to run out the door and never face her supervisor again.

She felt his fingers on her chin, lifting her face up to his. She blinked at the contrition she saw there. The contrition and the shame. Shame? What was he shameful about? Surely not from staring at her.

"I'm really sorry, Emily. I had no right to look at you like that. I completely understand if you want to lodge a formal complaint."

She was suddenly at a loss for words. "Hotch...I don't blame you for looking. Anyone would have done the same. It was completely my fault for putting you in that situation. I just feel so stupid."

He shook his head. "Regardless, it was completely inappropriate of me. I'm your supervisor, I should never have allowed myself to..." His face, his whole body was taut with tension. There was something else in his eyes that she wasn't able to fathom.

She frowned, confused. What was he talking about? Why was he blaming himself this much? And then it dawned on her. The look in his eyes. It was a look of want, of need. Of desire. Her eyes shot downwards. She stopped breathing. Was this really happening to her? He was aroused. By her. Oh God. What was she going to do?

She swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to meet his. His face was set like stone, completely cold and unyielding. But his eyes. Her breath stopped in her throat when she saw the emotions burning fiercely there. There was desperate need, yes, but there was also shame and fear. And at that precise moment, she knew exactly what she had to do. She took the one step that brought her right next to him and cupped his face in her hands. Then, standing on her tiptoes she brought his face down and closing her eyes, pressed her mouth against his.

For a long, long moment he stood there, frozen, but she didn't move away, keeping her lips against his, the pressure neither tentative nor hard. Finally, his lips softened against hers and he slowly kissed her back, his lips moulding to fit hers, tilting his head slightly so that their mouths joining together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. It was gentle and yet so passionate that her head was whirling at the sensation of his soft lips against hers, the stroke of his tongue on the sensitive roof of her mouth, the gentle suckle of her tongue in his mouth.

Her arms twined around his neck and she felt the dampness of the hair near the nape of his neck. His hard body felt so incredibly good against hers and she pressed closer, for the first time uncaring of the heat. His hands, which he had placed on her waist when he had first responded to her kiss now moved slowly down her hips, then around her bottom, pulling her tightly into him. She moaned into his mouth when she felt the extent of his arousal pressing into her.

At the sound he lifted his head and she murmured a soft protest at the withdrawal of his lips.

"Emily, tell me to stop. Tell me to stop and I will." His eyes locked with hers, desire burning brightly in their chocolate depths. But she could also see him wrestling with the knowledge that he should stop. So he had uttered those words, pleading for her to do the right thing. Because it seemed he wasn't able to. Her chest tightened at the thought that he wanted her this much.

But she was glad, too. She wanted, no, she needed him. Now. To hell with the consequences. "Don't stop, Hotch, please, don't stop."

His jaw flexed, lips thin from reigning in the force of his need for her. She shivered, knowing that under that stoic, implacably hard facade of his was a man whose passions ran deep and hard. And she wanted him.

"Let's go." He abruptly released her from his embrace and took her hand, striding quickly to the front door and locking it behind them when they were outside. They got into the SUV and he accelerated to the end of the street, pulling to an abrupt stop in front of their motel.

The receptionist at the front desk started to engage in a friendly conversation until she saw the look on his face. She checked them into their rooms quickly, informing them that there was no air-conditioning, as the generator was only powerful enough to run the lights, but that the fans in the rooms should work.

They stood silently as the elevator creaked its way slowly up to the third floor. She could feel her heart beating in a crazy rhythm when they reached the door to her room. He opened the door for her and followed her in, closing the door behind them. She stared at him when he paused, looking down at her.

"Emily, are you sure?" His voice held the slightest note of uncertainty, as if he too, was wondering if this was all just a dream.

"I've never been more sure than anything in my life," she whispered, telling him the truth that was in her heart.

His jaw flexed convulsively, then he jerked her to him, crashing his mouth down on hers in a ferocious kiss, their lips mashing together, tongues mating. He backed her into the door, her back colliding with it. Before she realised what had happened, he had ripped her camisole off, apologising as he did so.

"I'll buy you a new one," he rasped as he took a tightly furled bud into his mouth through the lace of her bra, his nimble fingers plucking its twin. Her head fell back and she moaned, her nerves winding tighter and tighter, just from his touch on her breasts. He pulled her skirt and thong off, kicking them to one side. He fell down to his knees and pushing her thighs apart, fastened his mouth to her.

She screamed his name, panting softly as she felt the pressure build, flames shooting into her brain and extremities. She grabbed his hands and tugged them insistently. He stopped and looked up at her questioningly, mouth wet from the evidence of her arousal.

"S...stop, Hotch, please. I want this first time to be with you."

His eyes darkened at her words and he stood up. Muscles straining, he lifted her up, hands around her thighs. She braced her hands on his shoulders.

She let out a long, low moan as she felt him stretch and fill her soft depths. He grunted at the effort of going slowly, body shuddering under her thighs and hands. He finally seated himself fully within her and paused, giving her a moment to adjust.

Their eyes met, dark brown locking with black. He looked fierce, determined to make her his. Her eyes soft, she tried to show him her willingness to surrender to his possession.

"Take me," she whispered.

And right in front of her, his infamous control broke and he exploded into action, thrusting into her as if their lives depended on it. His hands gripped her thighs so hard that she knew there would be bruises there tomorrow. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except this inferno that was building within, threatening to engulf her. His thrusts became faster and harder, pushing her hard into the door, rattling it violently. But she barely noticed, her eyes caught by his as if bound by some outside force. Her climax suddenly swept over her, catching her by surprise and his mouth covered hers muffling her scream. She had barely recovered when he pulled her tightly against him, lodging himself deep as he pulsed his release into her.

He carried her over to the bed, only just managing to pull off the covers before collapsing next to her. They laid on their backs, hearts still racing, bodies glistening with sweat.

As she lay there, a thought occurred to her and she turned over onto her side to face him. He was observing her quietly and her heart leapt at the softness that had replaced his usually stern expression. She reached out and gently smoothed back the dark hair that had flopped down on his forehead, giving him a boyish look.

"What is it?" he murmured, seeing her smile.

She put her hand on his cheek. "I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm starting to like the heat too."

So did you like this? Please review and let me know what you thought!