A/N: The title of this story comes from the Loudon Wainwright song "A Father and A Son"

Jennifer Jareau, better known as JJ, should have been on the proverbial cloud nine right now.

She had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy. She had everything she never wanted, a baby...someone who wanted to make her his wife and if everything went the way it was supposed to, surely a house with a white picket fence would follow. It was the dream her parents longed for her to have, but it wasn't what she spent her nights dreaming of.

And yet here it was...Right in front of her...All she had to do was reach out and take it. But there was one thing standing in the way of that dream – the truth.

The truth being, the man who offered her the ring – citrine – the baby's birthstone, wasn't his father after all.

Swallowing hard, she shifted her son – wrapped in the customary blue blanket – inside her arms, wondering how she had gotten herself into this mess. How she had come to convince herself that lying, that deceiving was the easier route to take than being honest and truthful.

She felt her breath catch as the uncanny feeling of being watched, washed over her. Her eyes darted toward the doorway, expecting Will to be leaning against the frame, slow grin etched over his lips and puppy dog green eyes twinkling, but no one was leaning against the door.

Confused, she looked down at her son...And peering up at her were his big blue eyes...Her eyes, Will had proclaimed in that drawl of his, but he was wrong. She knew whose eyes they really were, the moment she stared into them the first time just like she did now.

Although, they were blue in color, the way they stared right through her told her, they were his.

Her eyes were suddenly wet with the onslaught of tears and as she stroked his baby soft cheek with her slender finger, a soft knock at the door, made her hold back the tears. Her body was the most relaxed it had been in hours – even during the brief time when she and Spence were alone – and it was because she knew who was standing in the doorway now.

Her every inch sensed his presence before the knock registered in her ears.

Her blue eyes were still glistening, when she raised her head to meet his always steady, unwavering onyx gaze. Her upper lip trembled before she offered him a shaky grin, that she knew he would see right through and before she could blink, he was right by her side.

That silent understanding they shared, clearly telling him, she needed him to be standing next to her and not lingering in the doorway.

His cologne wafted to her nose and though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't stop herself from breathing in the smell.

Her cheeks flushed under the intensity his eyes were never without and she murmured, "I was starting to think you had gone back to the bureau like everyone else."

Aaron Hotchner, more commonly referred to as Hotch, always knew he was a glutton for punishment. He didn't need the bureau's profiling classes to tell him that. He had come to terms with that side of himself long before he even knew what 'profiling' was.

That part of himself was the only viable explanation for why he was standing in this delivery room...Forget why he was still at the hospital, long after he had sent everyone else back to the bureau.

He knew he should have taken his own advice and gone along with them, but he couldn't leave. He had to stay...But honestly, for some reason, he just couldn't leave. Even though this wasn't his place...Standing by her side as she endured her first night as a mother.

No, that place didn't belong to him.

But he wanted it to. He wanted his place to be right here...Standing at her bedside as she learned how to nurse or bottle feed (knowing her like he did, she would undoubtedly choose the later), listening to her soothing tone as she put him to sleep, watching her rock him in her arms and then hearing that breathy whisper of "good night" tumbling from her lips.

He let the fantasy dissipate and met her oceanic gaze again, the blue depths glistening with unshed tears in the hollow, fluorescent glow of the lamp, that sat on the table by her bed and he swallowed hard, his head filled with the image of those eyes staring up at him bathed in lust...More black than blue.

He could tell there was something on her mind, something that was bothering her. It was that silent understanding, that bond they had developed over the years, that told him so.

But he wasn't going to press her. Pressing her wouldn't get her to tell him what was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, his nose caught the faint smell of cherry blossoms, that always lingered after she left his office or the briefing room and he just had to breathe it in.

"I should be there." He said. "You and I both know there's always paperwork to process."

Her teeth sunk into the plump flesh of her bottom lip, a sight that makes his stomach tighten, even though circumstances dictate he shouldn't have any reaction to such an innocuous action. But as she nibbles on the flesh, he can't help but remember how she did just that while she quivered underneath his body as her slick, velvet warmth pulsated all around him.

He finishes his thought, after a long pause. "But for some reason, I can't seem to make it through those double doors. It was easier when I was rushing through them with Garcia hot on my heels so she would be sure to be the first to get a look at your little guy."

He tries to smile but he knows it's a grimace, that has crossed his features. The only genuine smile, his features have been graced with, came in the silent moments after coming together amongst the silk of her bed's navy blue sheets.

He adds to his last statement, revealing more than he would otherwise. "Something is telling me that I should be here."

A shaky breath tumbles from her lips. Her nerve endings come alive, her body hums from the low, husky timber to his voice just like it did that night as he whispered her name, "Jennifer" into her ear while their hips collided harshly.

Her heart tightens as if it's inside a vice grip and she knows what she has to do.

Her lips tremble and although she's holding her son, her hands still shake. Her oceanic eyes hold his onyx and in a shaky whisper, she tells him what she should have told him months ago. "He's yours."

Her voice is stronger, the next time she speaks. "This baby...My little guy...He's yours too, Aaron."

To say the silence in the hospital room, was deafening, would be an understatement.

Her eyes, which had closed tightly, too afraid to see the hurt she believed would be painted across his sharply handsome features, only opened when he spoke. "Mine?"

It was too late to turn back now...Too late to keep up the lie she had for months and suddenly it was like they were back in the lobby of the hotel in New York, after he, Emily and Spence had all found out she was pregnant.

His voice was just as soft, the hurt just as evident across his sharply handsome features. "JJ, you could have told me. Why didn't you tell me?"

The tears she had fought so hard to not let fall, finally won out in the battle of wills and streamed down her cheeks. Her voice was shaky and raw, unrecognizable to her own ears as she spoke. "Once everything was over...When it was morning and you were gone, I told myself that it was nothing. That it was something we both needed and that was all. It was easier that way."

As if he sensed his mother's discomfort, the baby squirmed and let out a distressed wail, arms failing inside the blanket. Panic was etched across her beautiful features and although, there were so many questions running through his head, Hotch still reached out with his hand, plucking the baby from her arms and transferring him into his.

He gently pressed him against his chest, remembering how much Jack liked that, when he had been this small. He felt his heart stop when the baby's eyes opened and a pair of blue eyes were staring back at him. He recognized those eyes immediately...They belonged to his mother.

He, somehow found the strength, to tear his eyes from those blue eyes and meet JJ's again. It was hard, seeing the rivers of tears that flowed through her eyes, making tracks down the gorgeous slopes of her cheeks and he wanted to reach for her, but he needed answers first.

"How could you not tell me this?" He tries to make his tone accusatory, but he can't. Because it's JJ, his tone of voice is more hurt than angry.

"I never wanted any of this, Hotch...The baby, to be someone's wife, a white picket fence. My parents thought it's what I should have but it just wasn't me. Something always made me want to run whenever I got close to having all that." She whispered, voice choking. "And I didn't think he could be yours. After I found out, all I could think about was the team...How I couldn't leave them, how if Strauss knew this would be the chance she had been waiting for, that she would finally break us up and there would be nothing we could do. I just couldn't let that happen."

Her voice is hard to understand amongst the heavy sobs that are now escaping her trembling lips, but he manages to make out her words. "I couldn't lose my family and you...You had already lost so much – with Haley and barely seeing Jack...I couldn't let you lose us too. I just couldn't."

It's in that moment that he understands her motivations. He doesn't need any further explanation. Because while he plays the stoic, unemotional leader, he knows deep inside – where it counts – how much he needs this team.

But there is just one question he needs answered. "Does Will know?"

JJ shakes her head. "He's making phone calls to his relatives in New Orleans. When he came back, I was going to tell him. Of course you walked in first and, I … I just couldn't hold it in any longer. You barely see Jack and I couldn't keep this baby from you."

Hotch knows how he should feel, how logic dictates he should feel but he's not angry. He can't be angry, not where JJ is concerned. He knows how hard doing the right thing is, he knows the pitfalls this job brings and how it seeps into your every day life, no matter how hard you try to push it away.

And while things aren't as resolved as they seem...There's still a messy aftermath they have to face, when Will finally learns the truth and then there's Jack who will have to meet his half brother and Haley who needs to know too, but now that he knows...He knows this is why he couldn't leave.

That the reason he had to stay at the hospital, why he had to come into this room isn't just because of JJ, it's because of their son.

And once again, she makes a genuine smile appear across his features when he tells her softly, "His eyes look just like my mother's. Hers were blue too."

The smile that crosses her plump lips reaches her eyes, making them sparkle like sapphires. "I should have told you this when you first came in," She laughs slightly. "But um...His name is Henry. Henry James."

Hotch's onyx eyes grow wide. "James?"

JJ's cheeks flush as she peers up at him from beneath the thick, dark fans of her lashes. "Yeah. Um...Will thinks I'm a fan of James Joyce. Which isn't exactly untrue. My Dad's favorite book happens to be Ulysses. But I chose the name so Henry could have a piece of you."

"That doesn't matter now. He has all of me now."

"Yeah, he does."

End note: I totally made Hotch's middle name up. Who knows if he even has one, but for the purpose of this story he does. This is probably my favorite JJ/Hotch story that I've written so far. Mostly because I still wish Henry was really his.

That scene in "Lo-Fi" between him and JJ always gets to me. The way his voice gets all soft and how hurt he looks when he says, "JJ, you could have told me." It's so obvious there's something there. The writer's are just burying their heads in the sand, dammit!

Anyway, "the night" that is referred to in this one shot takes place after the episode "Birthright" which means in this story JJ was already pregnant when she slept with Will in between then and "The Crossing." That's the only way the baby could have worked out to be Hotch's.