Summary: Charlotte on Hotch's tummy…need I say more? Fluff and witty banter. Okay, so I said more.

Age Guide: Hotch: 47; Emily: 42; Sean: 32; Jack: 7; Henry: 4; Charlotte: Almost 2; Ryan & Ben: in utero ;)

December 2012

"Please, make it stop," Emily muttered as she crawled into bed. Charlotte's incessant wailing had pushing her to the brink of insanity for three hours now. She had no idea how Jack and Henry had slept through it all. She had just passed the baby off to Hotch for another try; he was currently pacing the nursery, quietly talking to the baby as if she could tell him what was wrong.

After only a few minutes, Hotch came into his and Emily's bedroom with a slightly calmer Charlotte. She still fussed, but at least the shrieking had stopped. "What did you do?" Emily asked in awe.

Hotch turned to the side to show Emily that he was massaging Charlotte's ear. "Another ear infection, I think. Her ears stink." He offered the baby up to Emily, but she turned up her nose and twisted her neck.

"I'm good, thanks. I'll take your word for it. Do we have any ibuprofen for her or anything?"

"Just gave her some," Hotch said.

"We'll have to take her to the doctor in the morning and get some antibiotics," Emily said. She heaved a sigh of overdue relief and lay on her side. Hotch lay down right next to her. "Think it'll still work?" she asked when she saw him situate himself on his back and place Charlotte stomach-to-stomach with him, her tear-stained face directed toward Emily.

"Worth a shot," Hotch said, massaging Charlotte's back with his right hand, her ear with his left. Within a minute of hopeful waiting on Mom's and Dad's parts, Charlotte's breathing evened out and she dozed off.

"I think I just fell in love with you all over again," Emily marveled, joining hands with Hotch over the baby's back. "After all this time…this is seriously still one of my favorite things in the world."

Hotch grinned and let his head loll to the side for a soft kiss.

Emily swept a series of circles over her pronounced baby bump. "I can't believe we're having two more. Two more chances to see all the firsts all over again."

"Hopefully the tummy thing works on them, too," Hotch remarked.

"I dunno, I was hoping we could have at least one baby I could console," Emily said with sudden dejection.

"Em, come on," Hotch said with a nervous chuckle. "You're great with Charlotte."

Emily's eyes sprung a little leak and she rolled onto her back, clutching her belly possessively. "I know I should just be happy that she's comfortable and sleeping, but it drives me nuts that I can't be the one to do that, you know? I get it, you're her favorite, but she could at least throw me a bone once in a while…"

"Hey," Hotch whispered, his hand sliding over Emily's stomach and toying with her slack fingers. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to show you up." He almost sounded panicked.

Mission accomplished, Emily thought before sprouting an impish grin. "Oh, you're so gullible. I love it."

Hotch took his hand away and rolled his eyes. "Not funny."

"What?" Emily asked incredulously, rolling over toward Hotch again. "Oh, come on," she moaned when she saw Hotch's somewhat sour expression. "It's not my fault you can't read your own wife."

"You cried real tears," Hotch said in his own defense. "And you're pregnant. You're hormonal. I can't take my chances. I have to take you seriously."

Emily let out a pitying laugh, followed by a miniature snort. "Am I that scary?"

Hotch shrugged and stared up at the ceiling.

"Are you saying I'm a bitch?" Emily asked, sounding dangerous.

"I would never call you that," Hotch answered simply.

"To my face."

"Never. Period."

Emily's smile widened and she rubbed a hand up against Hotch's thigh. "Good answer," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Will my brilliance be rewarded?" Hotch asked with no smirk on his face, but definitely one in his voice.

"If you get me some ice cream, too, then sure. Then we can do whatever you want."

"Ice cream? Now?" Hotch asked, eyeing a peacefully slumbering Charlotte.

Emily shrugged. "If it's not worth it to you, that's okay. I can just as easily go right to sleep. I'm exhausted."

Hotch eyed Emily carefully before slowly lifting Charlotte from his stomach.

Emily gasped. "I can't believe you!" she hissed, amazed. "Come on, Aaron I would never ask you to prioritize sex over the wellbeing of any of the kids. I can't believe you're actually doing it."

Hotch immediately brought the baby back down before she could wake up. "And I'm the gullible one? Like I'd ever wake a sleeping sick baby to get you ice cream when you can get it yourself."

"Excuse me?" Emily said dubiously. "When I can get it myself? Did those words really just come out of your mouth? I'm using my teeth on you next time, if there even is one." She scowled and threw the covers back so she could get out of bed.

Hotch's eyes fluttered shut as he cursed himself at his misstep. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I don't mind helping you out. Not at all. I love you."

Another grin crept across Emily's lips. "I love you, too. God, you're adorable, but I don't know how we're going to raise five kids together when you believe every word that comes out of anyone's mouth."

"Would you please stop messing with me?" Hotch pleaded calmly.

"Why?" Emily asked, scooting off the bed. "It's too much fun. I married one of the most brilliant profilers and fooling him left and right." She walked around to his side of the bed and patted his cheek before walking away. "Want some ice cream? I'm going down to get some."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Hotch said, trying his best to mask his humiliation.

"Pssh. Get it yourself."

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