A/N: Written for the "Hooking Up at a Christmas Party" prompt. I got asked to do it by TigerLily888, and couldn't refuse. The only problem was, I didn't have a clue what to write. I asked my sister to give me a Christmas-related word, and she said...well, I won't tell you what she said. But anyway, Neenie, this story is dedicated to you!

Disclaimer: I think the presence of Strauss on the show is enough to prove that I don't own it...

Emily pretended to take a drink to hide her yawn. It figured that the one office Christmas party they were in town for happened to be right after they got off a case. Why Hotch had insisted they come was beyond her.

She glanced around the room. Morgan looked stoned, Rossi was standing silently in a corner, and Reid looked like he was about to nod off. JJ had disappeared somewhere, possibly off to her office to take a nap. Even Penelope was more subdued than usual. The only person who seemed relatively normal was Hotch, who was managing to socialize, though he was listening a lot more than talking.

Someone whose name escaped her struck up a conversation about some inane topic or other, and Emily strove to keep up. She wasn't sure what he was talking about; her mind was fuzzy and show tunes kept dancing through her head. A silence stretched, and Emily suddenly realized that not only was she expected to answer, but she didn't know what he had just said.

She shook her head to clear it, and the man's face fell. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I've no idea what you just asked me. My team just got back from a case; I'm utterly exhausted and can't focus."

The man nodded and left. Emily felt moronic.

"I'm gonna kill Hotch."

Emily turned to see JJ standing just behind her. "My thoughts exactly," Emily agreed. Much as I love the man… She gave herself a mental shake to clear her thoughts of her delectable boss.

"What the hell was he thinking?" JJ muttered, looking mutinous. "We just got off a case." She glanced around. Her eyes stopped on something, and she said, "You know what? I don't think I care what Hotch wanted us to do. I'm exhausted, and I'm going home." With a wave, she left Emily to get her coat and purse, and headed to the elevator. Emily had to smother laughter when, not a minute later, Reid, too, grabbed his coat and bolted for the elevator.

Two down, four to go.

She smiled to herself and shook her head. For some reason, she felt like this was a challenge from Hotch, to see who could make it to the breaking up of the party. Well, if she was going to make it, she needed something with a lot of caffeine. Sugar wouldn't go amiss, either. With a goal in mind, she headed into the crowded bullpen.

Sugar and caffeine weren't hard to come by at the drink table. Some of the things they were in were a bit odd. "What exactly is the point of that?" she wondered aloud, seeing a wine bottle that had a label advertising caffeine.

"Hyperactive drunks?" replied Hotch's voice over her shoulder.

Emily glanced back at him, resisting the urge to glare. "But alcohol is a depressant, and caffeine is a stimulant. It doesn't make sense."

"Don't try thinking about it too hard," Hotch advised her. "You'll only hurt yourself."

Emily turned on him in shock. "Are you—are you actually joking?" she demanded, then cut him off with a yawn. "God, sorry. I'm just so damned tired." This time she did glare at him.

Hotch shrugged. "I have my reasons for all that I ask of you." He glanced around. "Have you seen JJ?"

"Yeah, she cut out early," Emily told him. "She was exhausted. Reid left, too, in case you were wondering."

"Good to know," Hotch said distractedly. "And yes, I was actually joking. Hold on for a minute." He disappeared into the crowd.

Shaking her head, Emily grabbed a can of Coke and made her way out of the throng of people. Standing by the man's own office, Emily noted Hotch talking quietly to Morgan, who looked very confused. Moments later, jacket in hand, Morgan disappeared into the elevator.

Three down.

Emily shook her head again, then noticed Penelope. The normally colorful, chipper woman was sitting at a desk, looking rather like a high school student after a weekend without sleep. Better make that four, her mind added before she could stop it.

Before she could move, Penelope's chin slipped off her hand. She jerked awake in time to stop herself from hitting the desk. Emily made her way over to the other woman.

"You look exhausted," she told the other woman.

"That word does not even begin to describe how I feel," Penelope replied.

"You should go home," Emily said, "before you get more tired and drop off while driving. Or get Kevin to drive you home. But soon."

Penelope nodded sleepily, and got up to leave. When Emily turned to retreat out of the main party again, she noted that Rossi had vanished.

I might as well go, too, Emily thought to herself. It wasn't like anything important was going to happen for the rest of the night. Now what did I do with my coat?

She stood in one of the doorways that was less in the view of the bullpen, trying to remember.

"Are you leaving, too?"

She spun, convinced Hotch was trying to give her a heart attack. He held her coat out. "You'll need this, won't you?"

About to snap at him, she closed her mouth. "Thanks, Hotch." She looked back at the bullpen. "I wish I could stay; it looks like a lot of fun. I'm just too tired to enjoy it."

Hotch nodded. She was about to turn to go when he said, "By the way…"

She looked at him. He was pointing above her head. She followed the line of his finger to the mistletoe hanging in the doorway.

"Tradition and all that," Hotch said, looking nervous.

Emily's heart began to pound, and she felt her face heat. Tradition? As in, kissing under the mistletoe? That tradition? "Hotch?"

He didn't answer, merely moved closer. Slowly, giving her every opportunity to move away, Hotch closed the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was gentle and passionate, cool and hot, tender and fiery, all at once, and Emily felt her knees go weak. It was all she could do to keep from moaning into his mouth.

After what seemed like forever, but nowhere near long enough, Hotch released her. "Let's get out of here," he murmured.

"I think that that has been your best idea all night," she replied, just as quietly.

Hotch handed her her coat, and she slid into it. She began walking out as he got his jacket, making sure to time it just right so that she would be able to see him coming and hold the door for him.

When they were both on the elevator, and the doors had shut, Hotch took Emily in his arms once more. This time, she did not stop herself from groaning at the sensations caused by his talented tongue. When they reached the parking lot, they almost raced for Hotch's car.

As they drove back to Aaron's apartment, Emily glanced at him pensively.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, really," she admitted. "I was just wondering who put that mistletoe up."

Emily could clearly see Hotch's grin, half-guilty, half-mischievous, even in the poor light. "I did."

A/N2: Cookies for anyone who can figure out what the prompt was.