CHAPTER THREE
He’d been able to tell he hadn’t hid his jealous well enough by the shocked and wondering sparkle in her eyes. It felt slightly foreign to him to be jealous of Derek. He’d long known Emily and Derek were the best of friends, so his feelings had taken him by surprise. Maybe it was the case and the knowledge that Emily fit the victim typology so closely. Colorado was not far enough in the past for him not to want to protect her with everything in him. Because his team had become his family.
And she… well, he wasn’t completely sure what she’d become. He’d figured out quickly that she was more complex than even he’d anticipated. Hotch realized he probably should have expected that she wouldn’t be as black and white as the other members of the team. Still, he’d expected to be able to get a better handle on her in the last few months. But time and time again, she’d surprised him. He’d found himself filing the little details of Emily away.
For example, her obvious interest in the stars. It would take an astronomy buff to pinpoint the stab wounds in Ohio. Or her obvious ability to be completely in tune with each member of the team. He’d seen her slip JJ some of her own M&Ms. And ee Hotch knew Emily did not easily part with her chocolate. And that was only recently. Rossi had once asked her about Penelope after she’d been shot. And it seemed like taking care of Reid was second nature to her. He knew Reid looked at her like an older sister and in the wake of Gideon’s departure, it was exactly what Reid needed.
It terrified him that he’d become so hyper-aware of the woman seated in the passenger’s seat beside him, passed out. It terrified him almost more that it had seriously snuck up on him. The intense emotion of seeing her alive had sent his head spinning almost painfully. And now she was dead asleep and each one of the five of them in the car knew why. Rossi and Derek were murmuring in the backseat, trying to keep their conversation quiet to let her sleep. She’d dropped off almost immediately upon climbing into the car.
It showed she was struggling and Hotch knew the team saw it, even if she pretended like they didn’t. It bothered him that she wasn’t taking proper care of herself. Especially after Cyrus had used her as a punching bag. Nightmares were expected and he knew Morgan, Garcia and JJ had all tried to get her to take at least a few days off.
Hotch swung the car into the parking lot of a small restaurant only a few blocks from their hotel. They were all hungry. There was a mass movement to unbuckle seatbelts and get out of the car. All except one Emily Prentiss. He exchanged a glance with Derek through the rearview mirror and almost cursed the man when he shrugged and got out of the car. He sighed trying to figure out how best to wake her when all he wanted to do was let her sleep. His hand reached out to gently shake her shoulder. “Emily.”
The next thirty seconds happened so fast he almost didn’t get a chance to defend himself. Hotch had only a split second to read the fear in her dark eyes before her fist came around to strike at his head. He caught her wrist, but just barely.
“Emily.” His voice was firm but soft, trying to get her to focus. She struggled against the grip he had on her wrist and aimed the other one at him. He held on to both wrists, but he held on, grip only just tight enough to restrain her. “Emily.”
Her eyes cleared slowly and the struggling stopped as her brain caught up with where she was. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Hotch didn’t reply, just slowly released her wrists, fingers absent-mindedly stroking the skin on the inside of her wrist as she pulled them back towards her. It had been a long time since she’d called him ‘sir’, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “We’ll go back to the hotel right after dinner.”
“Why?” she asked, glancing away.
“Call it early,” he replied diplomatically. “We’ll get a good night, hit the ground running tomorrow.”
Emily arched an eyebrow at him before punishing open her door. He followed suit, meeting her at the front of the car. “Isn’t that a waste of time?”
“There’s no guarantee, he’s picked another victim and we’ve been working all day. I think we can allow ourselves an early night tonight.”
She sighed as he held open the door and paused. “Derek told me looked exhausted,” she said. “But I’m fine.”
Hotch mirrored her earlier eyebrow arch as he followed her to the table. He slid in beside her trying to ignore the scent of vanilla that assaulted his nostrils.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Derek exclaimed. “How was your nap?”
Hotch tried not to smile.
She was a whore, just like the rest of them. She sat there, joking and laughing with the men she was with, four of them, obviously all colleagues. And he’d bet she’d had every single one. She was just trying to look like she belonged. She didn’t. Not with the men like the ones sitting around the table. Not at all.
She looked much like the last one he’d had. That had felt good… really good. Better than really good. He bit his lip, well aware the urge was coming faster. That itch he wanted to scratch and it was here again. And she’d make a very good addition. She’d never know what hit her, but he’d teach her to sleep her way up. Women always did in big corporate companies. Who cared that it was a ragtag group of individuals sitting at that table. She was the only woman and she looked sophisticated enough to be higher up on the food chain. She was asking for it.
He’d have to keep an eye on her, figure out where she worked, what she was doing, where she lived… he’d figure it all out.
Then he’d have her.
The hair on Emily’s neck was standing on end and she had no idea why. She tried to hide a frustrated sigh, but knew the man beside her had heard it. And he was part of what was frustrating her. Recently, her instincts had been on haywire because of her supervisor. Her boss had the hair on the back of her neck standing with barely a look and it was starting to annoy her. Like now, when she could feel his entire side pressed against hers, or on the plane where he’d sat close enough to brush. The number of times she’d lost track of her train of thought was more annoying than telling.
And it had thrown off her gut instinct. It was why she often gravitated towards Derek during cases and she knew Hotch saw it. He’d been sure to pair her with other people, though what disconcerting look never left the depths of his eyes. It took all of her strength and will power to make sure what she was feeling didn’t show and it took every ounce of concentration to focus on her gut instinct and not the way her heart had a tendency to jump when he was near.
He’d shot her a look at her sigh and she’d managed a smile, her eyes darting around the restaurant. A waiter across the restaurant caught her eye and she smiled politely and briefly. Her stomach clenched and her body tensed when he kept his eyes fixed on her. Everything spooked her lately and she hated it. She was an FBI agent for Pete’s sake! One of the best of the most elite unit in the Bureau. The nightmares came with the job, this jumpiness didn’t.
The end of dinner had come faster than she’d thought and her thoughts were broken as the waitress came back to drop off their bills. Derek smiled and flirted as he paid, before they filed out of the restaurant.
When Emily chanced a glance backwards, the waiter was still watching her.