Archive of Our Own

It starts on the jet, the way he talks about Kate making it obvious to all those on board that their history is more than just professional. When they get to the field office, it doesn't take a profiler to notice how eerily similar she looks to his ex wife. Emily hears the comment muttered by JJ and as she turns toward the woman to be briefed, she bristles at the realisation. 

Truthfully there's no reason she should be annoyed by his apparent closeness to the British agent. She and Hotch are just colleagues, friends at most. Yes, over the past year or so she would admit they had become closer, the case in Milwaukee being a turning point for them. But certainly they had never crossed that boundary, never even came close.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it though, the nights they've ended up working late, a scotch shared in his office after a tough case. Lying in her own bed late at night, her fingers sliding between her thighs as the thoughts of him consume her. Under the sheet in some motel, separated from him by a thin stud wall, grinding into her hand with a fist in her mouth to stop from calling out his name. Wondering momentarily if he was doing the same. 

Of course he wasn't. He wouldn't. Not only was he far too proper to do that, but he had a wife, granted they may be separated but even so, Hotch wasn't the type of guy to cheat whilst still married. 

As Agent Joyner steps into his personal space, requesting a word in private, Emily leans in to her best friends. Wrapping her tongue delicately around the word 'liaised' she shares a look with them, the connotations not lost on any of them. But even as she jokes with her friends, watching him talk to Joyner in her office, she feels a flash of irritability shoot up her spine as she sees him smirk down at the blonde. 

Hotch tries his best to alleviate Kate's fears. He's worked closely with both her and Morgan and though he doesn't doubt Morgan would be an excellent unit chief, he knows that Kate is equally good and has complete faith in her ability to catch this guy. 

He once again ponders on how the female agents within the bureau function in such a patriarchal system. He's reminded of Strauss and her fears that he would usurp her, his masculine persona more comforting to the chain of command. As if being an Agent wasn't difficult enough, he can't imagine the added stresses of being a female in this environment. 

Kate busies herself taking a phone call from the mayor, leaving him standing awkwardly in the middle of her office. He glances out the window, his eyes falling on his team, already making connections and integrating with the field agents and police present. 

In particular he watches Prentiss, initially talking to a female agent she turns as the younger male detective walks over. Reid questions him, but Hotch watches Emily's face. Her lips pout as she tilts her head slightly, her active listening skills ever present. 

His eyes flick momentarily to JJ who he sees smirking with Garcia, their own eyes on the handsome young officer. Hotch looks back, noticing the way the man has angled his body towards his agent. 

Something akin to frustration buzzes through his veins as he watches how Prentiss stumbles, her doe eyes blinking rapidly at some comment, before she laughs him off with a shake of her head. Hotch sees Reid's eyebrows, knows that the tension, that he is able to pick up on a room away, must be palpable to those next to them. 

He shakes his head, trying to brush away the frustration he feels. The frustration he has no right to feel. Nobody is doing anything wrong, no one is acting unprofessional and even if the pair were flirting, well, what has that got to do with him? 

He's just her boss. 

Even so, he yanks open the door to Kate's office, the team collectively looking up at him as he strides out to give assignments. 

"Right, we've no time to waste on this so let's hit the ground running. Garcia, an officer is waiting to take you over to the surveillance centre. Rossi and Morgan I want you to go to the last crime scene, Reid you're on geographical profile, Prentiss can assist and get briefed from Detective Brustin on local knowledge."

"Excuse me, S.S.A. Hotchner, sorry to interrupt but it might be better if I brief Agent Prentiss. I'm the one who has spoken to the beat cops who were first on the scene." 

He surveys the younger man in front of him, bites back the remark on the tip of his tongue, swallowing down the anger like acid in his throat. Nodding his head he assents, "OK then, everyone happy?" they all nod, "let's find this guy." 

The tension builds as the bodies pile up. He all but ignores her, instead sticking to Agent Joyner's side like they are joined at the hip. Emily tries to not let it bother her, reminds herself she has no reason to be put out. Besides, she finds herself conveniently partnered with Cooper who is a consummate flirt, which distracts her somewhat. 

Still, when he leans over her shoulder to peer at the computer she feels a flush rise up her neck as his cologne envelopes her. It's only when Kate lowers herself to the other side of her, that she snaps out of it with annoyance which luckily she can pass off as frustration with the case. 

When they head back to the hotel, he again stands close behind her, looking at the newspaper in her hands. She can feel him, knows that if she sways backwards their bodies will collide. She wants to close her eyes, stand in that moment for as long as possible. No, what she actually wants, she can't have, his proximity just makes her even more frustrated. 

As they head up to their rooms, JJ and Reid on one floor, she finds that her room is opposite his. Stopping outside their doors she surveys him. 

"You OK?" 

"Tired. You?" his eyes fix on her and she feels her stomach somersault. 

"Yeah, me too." She gives him a smile, "still, that's good news about JJ right? She and Will look so happy." 

His lips purse and she wonders what she's said wrong before he nods, "Yes they seem very happy, it's wonderful news." 

Tilting her head she steps forward "Hotch, you sure you're OK?" 

"I'm fine Prentiss, let's get some sleep." He unlocks his room and slips inside muttering a goodnight to her as he goes. 

She's left stunned in the hallway, wondering what the hell she has done to warrant him acting so cold. 

There's another shooting. Officer down.

Word comes through to them quickly and he's on the move towards the elevator whilst the younger agent is still talking. 

"Agent Prentiss and Detective Cooper gave chase, when they caught up to the unsub he shot. Paramedics are on scene, both the officer and the unsub in critical condition." 

Jabbing the button he rounds on the messenger, "officer or agent?" 

"Sorry?" 

"Who was shot? Detective Cooper or Agent Prentiss?" 

"I believe it was Agent Prentiss who called in for assistance." 

Relief floods through him, immediately followed by guilt at being relieved Cooper has been shot and not Emily. He sees Kate eyeing him and he takes a breath to steady himself, the blonde looking at him curiously. 

Arriving at the scene he seeks her out, another wave of relief washing over him at the sight of her standing talking to JJ and Morgan. He itches to go over to her, to check for himself that she's alright, but he knows that professionally he needs to check the scene first. 

As Rossi and Reid speak to them, he can feel his body angling towards her, ready to go and see with his own eyes how she's doing. They brief him and Kate. He learns that Cooper was shot immediately rounding the corner and Emily subsequently fired two rounds into the kids chest taking him down with precision. 

Finally he allows himself to go to her. She's white, her complexion ashen from the stress, her eyes wide, brown pools of grief. He can see the blood smears still on her hands from where she no doubt tried to stem the bleeding, her shirt splashed red from her efforts. 

"It's terrorism, we need to relook at the profile." He speaks to the group, his eyes on her, watching as she stares at the ambulance pulling away. 

"Right, well let's get back to headquarters and we can go over what we have and combine it with a terrorism profile." Kate's English lilt is soft but firm and he sees his team nod in agreement. 

"Prentiss, have you been checked by EMT's?" Finally she turns to look at him, her eyes snapping onto his. 

"Yes, I'm fine." Her response is clipped, her voice laced with sadness. 

He's confused by the emotions running through him, part of him is pissed that she's so hung up on Cooper being shot. She'd seen officers shot before, some died right before them. By all accounts Cooper had a good chance at survival, so why was she pining after the ambulance like a child? There's another part of him that wants to pull her close to him, to shield her from the distress she's so clearly feeling and protect her from any further harm. Neither part makes sense to him and he feels anger tipping at the surface of his confusion. 

"Rossi, you and Reid take Kate back to headquarters and start pulling together what we have so far. Morgan, can you and JJ grab some food for the team? I'm going to take Prentiss back to the hotel. We'll meet you back at headquarters. " 

"Hotch, that's not necessary, I'm fine." 

"You're covered in blood, Prentiss, you need to change." His tone of voice gives no room for further discussion and he sees her bristle with frustration as the rest of the team nod their agreement to his orders. 

The drive to the hotel is tense, she can see his hands gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the black leather. For her part she keeps her hands in her lap, gently picking away at her fingers with worry. She glances over at him, sees the clouds behind her eyes, the way he shifts as he feels her gaze on him. 

"What is it?" he glances at her as she speaks, his brow raised at her question. "You've got a face like thunder Hotch and I know it's not just the case, so tell me, what is it?" 

"You were reckless." He speaks to her, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. 

Her jaw drops and her eyes narrow. "Excuse me? In what way was I reckless?" 

"You ran towards a gunshot without any back up Prentiss, in what way is that not reckless?" 

"I was with Cooper, we were each other's back up! Running towards gunshots is what we do, or have you forgotten that being in the office with Joyner all the time?" Her mouth moves faster than her brain. She knows she's overstepped, can see the twitch in his jaw, the pulse against his temple. 

Thankfully they have reached the hotel, and she opens the door jumping out. She expects him to wait there for her, only running in to change her top she won't be long, so she's surprised when he falls into step with her. She can feel the heat radiating off him. As they stand in the elevator she softens slightly. 

"I'm sorry for what I said in the car, I.." 

He silences her with a wave of his hand, and she feels the fury flood through her veins at him once again dismissing her. Rounding on him she presses her back to the elevator doors, forcing him to look at her. 

"What the fuck have I done to piss you off Hotch? We both know I did exactly what anybody else would have done today, and truthfully you've been treating me like shit on your shoe ever since we got here." 

He stares down at her, his amber eyes darkening before her. His gaze feels like it's piercing her skin, a shiver of electricity flickering up her spine making her shudder involuntary. Her stubbornness keeps her in place, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. 

The elevator pings and he reaches forward as the doors slide open, grabbing her elbow to stop her from falling backwards. 

His touch burns and as he pulls her towards him, she releases a gasp from her rosebud mouth. Moving along the corridor he firmly holds her elbow, keeping her close to his side. 

She's too stunned to fight him, shocked by this side of him. This was far past assertive Hotch, it bordered on aggressive and she wasn't used to this intensity from him. As they reach her door, he holds his hand out and she automatically slides the key card to his palm. Opening the door he silently pushes it open, holding it for her with one large hand. 

Her own fury mixing with apprehension she heads inside, expecting the door to shut behind her. When she turns, she's shocked to see him standing on her side of the door, his arms clenched at his side, staring at her furiously, his lips pursed. 

Feeling emboldened in her own room she quirks an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest. "Well? Are you actually going to talk to me Hotch or just continue to glare at me? You know that look works well on unsubs, less so on those of us who actually know you." 

"Prentiss, I'm not sure what's got into you on this case. You're being inappropriate, insubordinate and reckless." He looks away from her, trying too hard to appear disinterested. 

"Bullshit Hotch! We've discussed the reckless accusation, you and I both know anyone on the team would have done the same. And as for inappropriate, care to explain what the fuck you mean?" She steps towards him, the rage making her confident. 

"No argument on the insubordination I see." 

"No, I'll freely admit to that, but quite frankly Hotch I think it's warranted when you're talking out your arse." Her eyebrows disappear into her bangs, "Are you going to explain?" 

"Your behaviour with Detective Cooper. It's inappropriate and demeans the team." 

Her eyes narrow, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. "What?" 

"Frankly as a female agent I would expect you to try harder to carry yourself in a professional manner." The words roll off his tongue, the venom dripping from his voice. 

"Fuck you, Hotch." 

He steps forward, closing the gap between them. "What did you say?" 

Her eyes are black with rage, "You heard me, fuck you! I assume that you are insinuating that I've been flirting with Cooper, which is false, but even if I had, on what planet do you think you have a leg to stand on in this matter? How many times have you used my femininity on cases? How many times have I had to flirt to get information?"

"That's different. Utilising you to progress a case is entirely separate to you flirting with an officer for pleasure." 

"Oh so when you say I should then it's OK? Fuck you Hotch." Standing toe to toe with him she stares up at him. "You know you're quite the hypocrite," she smirks sarcastically, "I'm surprised you've had chance to notice anyone's behaviour your head's been so far up Joyner's ass."

In her peripheral she sees his hands clench and her smirk widens, "Oooh, have I hit on a sore spot? You do know your employees are all profilers right? Tell me, does Haley know you liaised with her British twin?" 

Once more she curls the word around her tongue, the suggestive tone making her inference very clear. She doesn't even know what she's saying anymore, the rage inside her bubbling over. How dare he question her integrity, how dare he use her for a task, but reprimand her in private for the same. How dare he stand in her room, staring down at her like that and not touch her. 

Hotch seethes, clenching his fists by his side as they itch to reach out and grab her. He knows he's talking bullshit, that she has every right to be incensed with him, that he's an asshole for even suggesting that he can use her and censure her as he sees fit. 

Her chest heaves with anger, the flush on her cheeks travelling down her neck, the alabaster skin turning pink with fury. He sees the way her shirt pulls against her breasts, the buttons straining as she stands before him. 

"Prentiss…" his voice is dangerously low, a warning. 

"Mind you," She steps closer to him, her body mere millimetres away from his, the electricity crackling between them, her voice a venomous whisper against his cheek. "I guess it's not cheating if she looks identical to your wife." 

He moves quickly, his hand around her throat pushing her against the wall with a thud. She grunts, her own hands grasping his wrist as his fingers tighten. "I never cheated on Haley." His voice comes out dark and low, breath against her lips that makes her shiver. 

"But you thought about it." 

Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip and she sees his eyes travel to her mouth, watches his jaw clench and with a thrill of excitement realises the effect she's having on him. Maybe she's not alone in this feeling? 

His eyes still on her lips he mutters; "Yes." 

She tilts her head, elongating her delicate neck, small in his large hands. "With Joyner?" 

"No." His voice comes out hoarse, his eyes trailing the pale skin she's exposed, lingering on her open décolletage.

"With who then?" At her question his eyes travel up to meet hers, she sees her own lust and desire mirrored back at her in his hazel orbs. Biting her bottom lip gently she whispers, "With who Hotch?" 

His lips crash against hers, the kiss initially awkward and fierce, teeth clashing as they battle for dominance. Hotch pushes his knee between her legs, pressing against her centre, pinning her against the wall. She caves with a moan, opening herself to him, granting him control. His tongue slips against hers, exploring her mouth, his hand moving to the back of her neck, wrapping itself in her soft curls. 

He tugs her hair, pulling her head back to give him access to her beautiful neck. His lips move down, leaving hers bruised and swollen, he licks a trail down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his tongue. 

Her own hand grabs his neck, holding him against her. "Who with Hotch?" 

His teeth nip at her earlobe, "You're infuriating Prentiss." 

Her laugh chokes in her throat, a moan overcoming it as his thigh presses firm against her. His hands make quick work of her trousers, and she gasps as his fingers slip inside her underwear, cupping her cunt gently in his calloused hand. 

He keeps his hand firm against her, her wetness slowly coating him as he turns his attention to her breasts. Pushing her shirt off her shoulder he uses his free hand to unclasp her bra. Her breasts exposed, he roughly pinches a nipple, rolling it between his fingers. 

"Ask me again." He commands, his mouth against her throat. 

"What?" she's breathless, the ache between her thighs making her lightheaded. 

"I said," he bites her gently, his tongue pushing against the skin he's marked. "ask me again." 

"Who wit…" her words are lost as he deftly slips two fingers inside her. The heel of his thumb pressing against her clit as his thick fingers slide into her dripping centre. 

She grinds down onto his hand, desperately seeking more. Her fingers dig into his shoulders as he toys with her nipples, pinching them, rubbing his thumb over them softly. He works his fingers in and out of her slowly, curling them inside her, making her shudder against him. He gazes down at her, holding her up on his hand, her breasts heaving with pleasure, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. 

"Look at you." She briefly meets his eyes, gasping as his thumb circles her clit. The room is silent but for the sound of their breathing and the squelch of her as he fucks her with his fingers. "Listen to you. Are you thinking of Detective Cooper now?" 

Her laugh is bitter, the smile on her face genuine, "He's married Hotch." 

Applying pressure with his thumb, he eases a third finger inside her, "That's not an answer Prentiss." 

"Fuck, no!" Her nails digging into his shoulders squeeze as her hips cant forward, meeting his hand with every thrust. "No. Hotch. Jesus!" 

Her head thumps against the wall as he pulls the pleasure from her with ease, his fingers working her like a skilled craftsman. He leans down, running his tongue against her bottom lip, pushing the words into her mouth. "Who are you thinking of Emily?" 

"Oh God!" She keens as her name falls from his lips, "You, only you." 

"Good girl." He smirks against her lips as he feels her reaction to his words coat his fingers."Hmmm, do you do that every time I praise you, Prentiss? Have you sat at the round table soaking your underwear? Or maybe on the jet? Pressing your thighs together for some friction as I tell you what a good girl you've been?" 

Even if she could speak, she found there were no words to articulate what she was feeling. He touched her like he had known her for years. Like he'd labored himself over ancient texts detailing her body, describing in intricate detail how to please her. She'd never seen this side of him, obviously she hadn't, but she'd never imagined him this way. Truthfully she'd always thought he would be more submissive, she would've bet on him being a gentle lover, she never would have counted on him being so filthy. She fucking loved it. 

Removing his hand from her, he can't help but chuckle at the whimper she lets out. Pressing his fingers gently to her lips he waits, allowing her to open her mouth, her tongue curling out as she sucks herself off him. 

"How do you taste?" His voice catches, giving away his own arousal as she licks and sucks on his fingers, her eyes fixed on his. 

Undoing his tie he shrugs off his jacket before unbuttoning his shirt, allowing her to help him with his cufflinks as she continues her assault on his fingers. When he stands shirtless before her, she removes his digits from her mouth with a pop, her eyes casting an approving glance over his torso. Looking up at him she grins, running her tongue over her lips, "Delicious." 

He groans, dropping to his knees he pushes her trousers and underwear down, lifting her ankle tenderly so she can step out of them. Running his hand back up her leg he kneels before her, eyes fixated between her thighs. Suddenly he grips her ass firmly and pulls her towards him, his mouth meeting her half way. His tongue pushes her apart, snaking into her core, eliciting a moan from both of them. She holds onto him, one hand on his shoulder, her nails digging in as she tries to stay upright, her other hand fisting in his hair. 

"Fuck, Hotch!" 

She gasps as she feels him push further inside her, using his face to open her to him as his tongue explores her. Squeezing her ass he let's one hand travel underneath her, flickering over her hole before joining his mouth at her pussy. As his tongue encircles her clit, the bud pink and firm, she cries out, her fist slamming into his shoulder. 

He pulls back and looks up at her, she can see her wetness all over his face, dripping down his neck as he's feasted on her. She wonders briefly if that's why he took his shirt off but the thought is fleeting as he sinks his fingers back inside her, kisses her thigh gently. 

"I want you to come on my face." 

She tries to pull away, the intimacy of it too much. "No." 

"Yes." 

"Hotch, I can't." She whimpers as he curls his fingers inside her. 

"Yes you can." He smirks, his eyes dark and wicked. "Do I need to make that an order Emily or are you going to be a good girl?" 

"Oh, fuck!" 

Once again her arousal soaks his fingers, and he absentmindedly licks at his wrist, capturing her juices as they trail down his thick arm. With one hand on her stomach he gently pushes her back so she's resting against the wall, before lifting one of her legs and draping it over his shoulder. 

His mouth covers her, his tongue flat and broad, dipping into her core before toying with her clit. He hums against her, the vibrations driving her wild, her leg shaking against his back. Curses fall from her lips, moans stuttering as she tries to comprehend the pleasure she's feeling. He takes her between his lips, sucking on the swollen nub at the same time as he returns his fingers inside her. 

Any gentleness is gone, his wrist twisting as he thrusts deep inside her, pressing up against her inner walls. Simultaneously his tongue assaults her clit, flicking, circling, sucking. Her leg starts to give out and he wraps his free arm around her middle, holding her up and against him as she mewls with pleasure. She comes apart against him, drenching his face, her hands tight in his hair, her heel digging into his back. He drinks from her greedily, like a man who's been lost in the wilderness finding his first oasis. 

As she comes down, he gently lifts her leg off him, helping her stand upright with a kiss to her thigh. Her smile is dazed, drunk from the high as she runs her fingers through her hair. She pulls him up, tugging him closer by his belt so she can kiss him. Moaning at the taste of herself on him, the kiss is gentle, tender as their tongues dance. After a moment she sucks his bottom lip into her teeth, biting down harshly. 

"Paybacks a bitch, Hotch." Her hands work at his belt, moving to kneel in front of him, only to be stopped by his hands holding her elbows firmly. 

"There's no time for that Prentiss, we need to get back to the case." 

Slipping her hand into his pants, she palms his hard dick with pressure, her hand becoming sticky with precum. "Eager to get back to Agent Joyner are we Hotch?" Her lips move to his jaw, licking her own release from his skin. 

His chuckle is dark and low in his throat, her lips pressed against his skin vibrating from the laughter. "I think I've just demonstrated that Agent Joyner is not the one who I'm eager for Emily." 

She smiles, tilting her head as she continues to stroke him. "Say that again." 

"Emily." His voice is deep and husky and catches in the middle as she swipes her fingers over his sensitive tip. 

"Mmmmmm, I like it. Again?" 

He grins at her, his dimples deep in his cheeks as he catches her lips with his, smiling into the kiss. Turning her he pushes her towards the bed, watches as her knees hit the side and she falls back, resting on her elbows, one knee raised as she waits for him. 

He moves swiftly, his pants and boxers off in moments, joining her on the bed. She welcomes him between her legs, laying back on the bed as he hovers above her. Running her hands along his arms, she feels the muscles that she's so often admired beneath her fingertips. 

She shudders as she meets his gaze, his look almost predatory, his eyes clouded with desire and need. Bringing him down to her for a kiss, she bucks slightly as she feels his hardness pressing against her thigh. 

"Hotch…" 

"Emily?" 

She laughs at his tone and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Please." 

One eyebrow raises at her, "Protection?" 

Shaking her head she shifts beneath him, desperately seeking out more, "I'm good. Please, Hotch." 

This time he kisses her, long and deep, the tenderness of it makes her want to cry but then she feels him pushing between her folds, coating himself in her slick. As he pushes into her, she tenses, inhaling a shuddering breath at the intrusion. 

He's thick and long, and oh so hard. He swallows her moan with a kiss before breaking apart resting his forehead against hers. "You OK?" 

Her tongue flicks out, wetting her bottom lip, her head nodding furiously, repeating herself. "I'm good." 

He moves slowly at first, circling his hips leisurely watching as her face relaxes with delight. He groans at the sight of her, blissed out beneath him as her tight centre clenches around him, sucking his cock deeper inside her. She rakes her nails down his chest, resting on his hips she squeezes. "Fuck me." 

He doesn't need telling twice, snapping his hips he thrusts into her hard and deep, groaning at the sensation, her own moans piercing his ears. Kneeling back he takes her ankles in his hands, holding her legs apart as he looks down at the point where their bodies meet. 

She's swollen, her lips red and engorged, glistening as she takes him in. His dick is thobbing, shiny with her slick as it disappears inside her, splitting her open. He pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into her hard, earning a curse to fall from her lips. His thrusts don't slow down, her own body rearing up to meet him, her fingers scrambling for something to hold onto. 

"Fuck you're a sight to behold, look at you!" She laughs, blushing at the compliment. 

He let's go of one of her ankles, bringing his hand to play with her clit, her head thrown back on the pillow as he circles the sensitive area. "You're a vision Emily, fuck! You take me so well." 

"Hotch, fuck, it's too much!" She cries, her hands fisting the bedsheets as he brings her closer to the edge. 

"No it's not, look at you, it's like you were made to take my cock. Your cunt is swallowing me, squeezing me, strangling me, you feel so fucking good." He growls, his eyes closing as his orgasm builds. 

"I want to see you come on my cock Emily. Can you do that for me?" She gasps, his words drawing out more from her than ever before. "Come on Emily, be my good girl." 

As she comes her breath chokes in her throat, stars exploding in front of her eyes as her back arches into him. He watches her with fascination, his fingers gently stroking her clit, prolonging her pleasure. 

"There she is, there's my good girl." He smiles at her in adoration, allows her to come down before placing one leg against his shoulder, the other falling to the bed. 

Thrusting into her he chases his own release, the intensity of being inside her, tasting her, consuming her, too much. With his hand remaining on her clit, he once more applies pressure. 

She shakes her head, eyes wide as words fail her, and he nods. "Again." 

"Jesus, Hotch!" 

He laughs as he continues his ministrations, sinking his cock deep inside her as his fingers play with her. Her hands stretch above her head, pushing against the headboard, fucking herself back onto his dick, meeting him with every thrust. They come apart together, his hot release shooting inside her as he falls ontop of her. 

They rest for a moment, exhausted in their bliss, their hearts beating against each other as one. She runs her fingers through his hair, a breathless laugh on her lips. 

"Why the fuck haven't we done that before?" 

His own laugh is muffled against her neck, kissing her skin softly. "Because I was married?" 

"Oh, yeah." She pats his back and he rolls off her, laying at her side so he can pull her close. Staring at the ceiling she muses, "I should flirt with hot detectives more often." 

"Ahhh so you admit it." He kisses her shoulder, wanting to enjoy this moment for as long as possible. 

She turns towards him, wrapping her leg loosely around him. "He was flirting with me, that I can't help." 

He nods, "I apologise." 

She smirks, her hand resting on his chest. "What about Kate? Were you flirting?" 

"Never. She's not my type." There's a beat of silence before they both laugh and he pushes a curl behind her ear, "We should get back, we have a terrorist cell to find." 

She tenses, sighing as reality hits once again. He watches the tension seep into her face and his hand caresses her cheek tenderly. "Hey, we'll talk more later ok?" 

Her eyes search his questioningly before she gives a short nod, "OK." 

"I promise." He rests his forehead against her own, looking deep into perfect brown eyes, "We have all the time in the world."