Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hotchner."

"Hey. Sorry if this is a bad time."

His brows lifted as Emily's voice registered, eyes skirting around the plane. "Hey, no. We are headed back to Virginia."

"Oh, just finished a case?"

He took a moment to glance at his phone screen again. He was surprised to hear her. The number was marked private. "Yes. Are you still at work?"

"Yeah, I was completing some requests for assistance in South Africa. The Swedish Police accidentally discovered a money laundering scheme."

He smiled. "I see." It was almost 9 PM where he was. Made it close to 3 AM for her. "Did you need help?"

He saw Rossi's head turn in his direction, but ignored the attention.

"No, no. I was actually calling to talk to Jack, but I guess I could've texted to see if you were on a case first."

Right, texting. They weren't very good at communicating in any form. In the month since he'd seen her, they had maybe exchanged 5 texts. He knew she didn't have an issue answering her phone, considering Penelope was raving about a FaceTime call just last week, but for some reason, it didn't work well for them.

"I can have him call when I get home." He glanced at his watch. "It might be close to 5 in the morning for you, though."

"Oh, don't wake him up for me. We can call another time."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Sure."

A beat of silence passed over the phone line, words on the tip of his tongue hanging on by a thread.

"Well, I—"

"Are you—"

"Oh."

"Go ahead."

Hotch pursed his lips, then continued. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, doing fine over here. Hey, did Dave ever share that bottle of whiskey I gave him?"

Hotch did not recall a gifted bottle from Emily. "No. Not that I’m aware of, at least."

"That asshole," she said lovingly. "I'll remind him it was for both of you, if he hasn't polished it off yet."

"Odds are—"

"I know. I'll make sure you get your portion. And when you do, you'll have to tell me what you think. A best in show, Irish with salted caramel and vanilla. A little pepper and orange. Might just beat the whiskey we stole from his office that one time."

"I wouldn't say we."

"Listen. Just because you didn't touch the bottle doesn't mean you're not an accomplice."

Hotch smiled fondly, hazy memories of a night that started with a certain brunette and blonde sneaking into the restricted section of Dave's office. "I guess I did give it a taste."

"Remember when he found out?"

Hotch glanced at Rossi again. The man was flipping through case notes. "I do."

"He said he knew who it was, but I think he's bluffing."

Hotch wasn't certain, but he wouldn't be surprised if Dave really had figured it out. "I don't know. He probably let you get away with it."

"Maybe he's waiting for the perfect moment to reveal his revenge?"

"Maybe he called it even when you gifted some to him."

Emily scoffed lightly. "No way. He's got years of practice holding a grudge."

Hotch shook his head as he shifted his focus down to the abandoned paperwork in front of him. "I think you could get away with a lot more, actually."

Emily hummed as she thought. "You think?"

"Probably," Hotch said. "He's got a soft spot for you."

"Good." She softly chuckled. "He should."

Hotch thought that she was probably right. She was always close to Rossi, even from the beginning. At some points, Hotch would catch them bickering, sounding more like father and daughter than he had heard him with anyone. Rossi fell into that role for a lot of the BAU, but with Emily, he was more protective. More lenient. More understanding.

"So, uh, how was the case?"

Work conversations were easy. Safe. If she hadn't jumped to the topic in their pause, he would have. "It was... the unsub used rabies as his weapon of choice."

"Rabies? Like wild animals, rabies?"

"Yes."

"God. That sounds horrible." He could hear the way that was hitting her, disbelief and disgust clear in her voice. "How do you... Can you even keep it contained? Isn't it highly transferable?"

"Somewhat. Reid would be happy to tell you the specifics, I'm sure."

"Uh, no, thanks." Emily shifted, her chair settling with a squeak. "Lemme guess. Decontamination showers?"

"Actually, no." Hotch glanced down at his suit. "Though the more I think about it, the more I wish we had."

"Well, I'm sure someone will keep me updated if symptoms start to spread. Never been happier to be hours away than right now. I would not want to be stuck on that ride home."

Hotch smiled. "I'll make sure the plane gets disinfected before your next trip with us."

"Wow. Thank you so much." Heavy sarcasm soaked her voice. "You're very considerate."

"Would you rather I leave it as is?"

"No. By all means, please, do disinfect. Yourself as well. Unless this is your heads up the virus got you before you leave me?"

"Emily."

She laughed.

"You're talking to Emily?" Hotch glanced over at Reid. His eyes were wide, brows tipped in concern. "Isn't it late for her?"

"Yeah, she got stuck in the office. She actually was asking about the transmission of rabies. Would you care to explain it to her?"

"Hotch, no—" Her voice faded as Hotch held his phone out.

Reid smiled and grabbed it from across the aisle.

For their first time talking on the phone without an impending case to focus on, he enjoyed listening to her. He could've gone with some more time, but the smile on Reid's face, and the rate at which he was talking made it worth it.

"How's she doing?" Morgan's deep voice drew his attention.

"She's good," Hotch said confidently.

Morgan seemed pleased to hear it. "Good. We'll have to get her back in town soon."

He nodded. That they did.