Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Aaron Hotchner was tired. He'd worked his characteristic 11 hour day and headed home to Annandale just like any other night. Only this wasn't any other night. This had been his last day at Quantico.

Effective Monday, he'd be reporting to the Hoover Building in DC, moving from his position as Executive Assistant Director for the Criminal Investigative Branch into the office of the Director.

He supposed he'd always wanted the position, but he'd never let himself believe it would happen until ten years ago when Erin Strauss retired and he moved into her spot as the Assistant Director. From there it had been a relatively quick, wild ride up the ladder to the Director's Chair.

Lisa had jokingly said that life as they knew it was about to change. He'd told her that since they'd gotten together; their lives had been as rapidly changing as mercury. She laughed, but had to agree.

Despite the rapid fire changes in his life over the past 14 years, looking back, there wasn't much he'd do differently. Sure, he'd spend more time with Jack, if he could, but since Melissa was born, Lisa made it her mission that Jack would spend as much time as possible with his father and new sister. It took Hayley a while to come around to it, but once she did, Jack became a more frequent fixture in their family life.

The sounds of the laughing voices of his wife and daughter pulled his attention to the master bedroom. He stood just out of sight, listening to the playful banter that made up 85% of the conversations in the Hotchner household.

Peeking around the corner, he looked at his 13 year old daughter, marveling at how she'd grown so fast and was a bright, beautiful teenager. He was proud that Melissa kept a straight A average, wrote for the middle school paper, and played saxophone in the jazz band. Much to his chagrin, however, she'd embraced punk rock music and clothing. Yet, despite her dress and musical taste, she remained polite and respectful, as, surprisingly, were the rest of her punk friends.

He supposed that being polite was their form of rebellion. Going against the perceived image of a punk rocker made them different. Either way, he was grateful that despite the hard core way she sometimes looked, "his Lissy" was still a good kid.

"Mom," Melissa Hotchner began, propping herself up on her elbows as she lay across her parents' bed. "You're not wearing that to Daddy's swearing in, are you?"

"And what's wrong with this?" Lisa asked, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

Hotch thought that the tasteful pale blue skirt suit looked good on her, although, it did look more like something Jackie Kennedy would wear.

"Mom, it's blue," Melissa said, wrinkling her nose, "It's so not you."

"What should I wear?" Lisa sighed, as their red headed daughter hopped up from the bed and walked to the closet.

"You bought four suits…" Melissa said, voicing his earlier thoughts, "And three of them look like something the President's wife would wear."

"Well…." She began, but her daughter cut her off.

"Mom, Daddy's not the president," she sighed, "And you're not the first lady. You're too…" she searched for a word, "Normal." She pulled out a suit, "Here, wear this one."

Lisa took the black and white pinstriped suit from her daughter's hands. "You think?"

Melissa nodded, "With that maroon silk tank…"

"And if you're wearing your black and white suit?"

"I'm not," she dismissed, "Aunt Pen got me a dress…"

Lisa raised a brow.

"No, Mom, its cool, its pink and its vintage," she nodded, "We found outfits for both of us last weekend. She's so excited that Daddy picked her as his assistant."

"I can't imagine anyone else in the job," Lisa agreed.

"Besides," Melissa shrugged, "You're gonna have to force Jack into a tie. You know he hates wearing anything but sweats and jeans."

"He'll wear a tie for me," Lisa smugly said, "He may be 17, but he still loves his Aunt Lisa best."

"Yeah, him and Little Dave," she laughed, "Little boys love you."

"Big boys do too," Hotch said, finally walking into the room. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and pecked her cheek.

"Some do," she smugly said. "What are you doing home this early?"

He laughed, "It's 8 pm."

"That's early for you, Daddy," Melissa said, as she hugged him.

"Lissy, you, too?" he feigned sadness, "I'm wounded."

"I'll cheer you up," she brightly said, "You're on the front page of the school paper."

"I am?"

She nodded proudly, "It's not every day that the parent of a St Anselm's student gets sworn in as Director of the FBI."

"You say that like you're proud of it," he teased.

Melissa shrugged, "I told you. You might be director of the FBI, but you're still just my dad."

Hotch shook his head and looked at Lisa, "She's still your Mini Me."

"And Jack's yours," she returned with a wry smile. "Speaking of which, is he coming over tonight or meeting us in the morning?"

"He'll be here after practice," he explained, loosening his tie. "I talked to Hayley and she swears he had his suit in the car when he left for school."

"Bet he didn't bring a tie," Melissa muttered.

"Probably not, but he forgets that I have several that I could loan him," Hotch pulled his tie from his collar and tossed it at his daughter.

"Not this one," she said, wrinkling her nose at the blue and red striped tie. "I don't like this one."

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, a brow raised.

"It looks…like something a prep school kid would wear," she shrugged, tossing the tie back at him.

"Melissa, look at your father…" Lisa teased.

"You've got a point," Melissa winked.

"Now wait just one second," he protested, "Just because I don't have facial piercings and multicolored spiked hair…"

Lisa winced, "Now that's an image I'm not sure I can conjure."

"I dunno, Mom," Melissa said, eyes twinkling with merriment, "I could see it."

"You think?" Lisa returned in kind, studying her husband.

"You do realize you're speaking about the Director of the FBI," he said, with a faux sternness that neither one of them was buying.

"Like the kid said," Lisa winked, pecking his cheek, "You're still just her dad."

"Yeah," Melissa said, pecking the other cheek, "What she said."

"Come on, Mel. Let's go see if we can scare up some dinner for the Director of the FBI," Lisa said, walking out of the room.

"Oh, and Daddy?" Melissa said, stopping at the door.

"Yes?"

"Don't wear the red and blue striped tie tomorrow, okay?" she grinned, and then walked off down the hall.

XXXXX

"So," Lisa said, as he slipped into bed next to her, "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

Her lips curled into a wry smile that he found amazingly sexy and he leaned over and kissed her. "It's just another day at work."

"Wiseass," she laughed, "Come on, you have to be a little excited…"

He shrugged.

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," she playfully admonished, "You mean to tell me you're not excited at all?"

"I guess a bit," he allowed, "Scared shitless is more like it."

"You have nothing to be scared of," she softly said, placing her hand to his cheek. "Have I told you how proud of you I am?"

"Many times," he said, kissing her. "And you've showed me once or twice as well."

"Play your cards right and I just may show you again."

"We need to get up early tomorrow," he countered, as she slipped her hand under the waistband of his boxers and caressed him.

"Yeah, but I know you," she said, her voice a sexy purr. "You're not going to sleep well tonight. I thought I'd help relax you…"

With a deep chuckle he replied, "Or tire me out."

"Either way, you'll sleep tonight, I promise."

XXXXX

"This is so wild," Melissa began, gazing around the ballroom. "Look at this place, Jack."

"It's a ballroom," 17 year old Jack Hotchner shrugged, failing to see what his little sister saw in the room.

Melissa rolled her eyes at him, "But, this whole thing…this whole big party and stuff, is for Daddy."

Jack shrugged again, "He's the director, they've gotta put on a show for him."

"How does your girlfriend stand you?" Melissa sighed, "You're so clueless."

"She stands me just fine," he smartly returned, tugging at one of her long red curls.

"Jack!" she hissed, "Stop it!"

"Hey, there my Miniature Hotch," Penelope Garcia lightly said, walking up between them, "Check the sibling rivalry at the door."

"Yeah," Melissa smartly added, causing Garcia to look at her with raised brows. "Sorry, Aunt Pen."

"How long does this thing go, anyway?" Jack asked, gazing around at the rapidly filling ballroom.

"It just started, Jack," Garcia laughed, "There's a dinner, then dancing."

"Dancing?" Jack grew alarmed, "Nobody said anything about dancing."

"Dancing is optional," she assured him. "But you will have to give me one dance."

"Aunt Pen," he blushed, "I can't dance."

"I'll teach you."

"Baby Girl," Derek Morgan's voice began, causing them to turn and face him, "What did you say to that boy? He's as red as your lipstick."

Melissa was happy to fill Morgan in, "She asked him for a dance."

Morgan nodded in understanding, "Face it, Kid, you're gonna have to suck it up and do the dancing thing. The ladies love it when their man can dance."

Jack winced, "Dad doesn't dance."

"He can slow dance," Morgan corrected, "That's all you need to do. Works like a charm."

"Of course, being an ATF team leader doesn't help," Garcia winked.

"See, that's that the girls want to hear," Jack decided. "That's why I'm looking at it."

"Boy, ATF ain't the way to start," Morgan advised, "Go up the way I did, do the FBI first, get your investigative skills in order first."

"Yeah," Melissa teased, "And learn how to hit your targets when you're shooting."

Jack narrowed his eyes and glared at her as only a big brother can do, but said nothing.

"Now come on, Little Lisa," Morgan teased, having taken both children to the target range, only to find out that Melissa far out did her brother with her innate talent. "He's improving."

"Besides," Spencer Reid said, walking up behind Jack, "Marksmanship is only part of the skills required for the FBI."

"Spencer!" Melissa grinned, clearly happy to see him, "You made it."

"We just got back from Idaho. The jet literally touched down twenty minutes ago," he said, hugging her, "Which is why I'm not dressed properly."

"It's okay," she dismissed, "Is Emily with you?"

"She decided to get changed," he said, rolling his eyes, "She said it would do well for the BAU's Unit Chief to arrive in a suit she'd slept in."

"That's Emily," Garcia laughed, looking around, "I'm so glad the whole old crew is going to be together tonight."

"Where are Hotch and Rossi?" Morgan asked, looking around.

"Uncle Dave and my Dad are talking to reporters from CNN and Aunt Lisa and Aunt JJ were heading off to the bathroom," Jack advised.

"It's nearly time for dinner to start, we should probably sit," Garcia advised, taking Jack's arm and slipping and arm around Melissa's shoulders, "Come on, my little Hotchner Babies, let's go find our table."

XXXXX

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner watched her husband as he picked at his desert. No matter how much he tried to play it off, he was nervous. He'd done well at the swearing in ceremony and the press conference afterwards, but then again, he was accustomed to speaking to the press.

He'd been working on his speech for days and despite the note cards he was looking over, she knew he had it committed to memory, the cards were just a prop, something to distract him.

She reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, causing him to look up at her and smile.

"Are you ready?" she asked quietly.

"As I'll ever be," he returned, leaning over and kissing her softly, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Just picture everyone in their underwear," she returned with a devilish grin,

He winced, "Nice image you're putting into my mind."

"Okay, then just picture me in my underwear," she continued.

"And now you're trying to kill my concentration all together," he laughed, kissing her again.

"Can you two lovebirds tone it down a bit," Rossi teased, causing them to pull apart. He shook his head, "In front of the children, too."

"They're worse at home," Melissa laughed as the prior director of the FBI took the stage and began to speak,

"Are you ready?" Lisa asked him quietly.

XXXXX

"As I'll ever be," he replied, as the former director called him to the stage. He stood, then bent and pecked Lisa's cheek, before walking to the stage.

He shook hands with the former director, thanking him for his support, and then stood at the podium. With a quick glance out his notes, he looked up at the crowd and began to speak.

"I can still very vividly remember the day I walked into the BAU for the first time. It was much different than what you see today. We started off in a basement, with none of the high tech accoutrements that we currently have. I spent countless hours poring over paper files, traveling to each point of research, and tracking down details anyway we could.

I was, some say, hand picked by Jason Gideon and David Rossi to join the unit. Although, over the years, they each blamed the other for my presence more than they took credit for it.

I was raw back then, and despite what I thought, I was very green. It took them two whole hours to start calling me "Kid" and it stuck with me for years. But Gideon and Rossi saw something in me and although their methods were sometimes questionable, I credit them both with teaching me the skills I have today. Dave, I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for me and what you continue to do.

Six months into my time with the BAU, Gideon and Rossi hand picked another young agent to join the team. A cocky, red head that made the two of them shake their heads much more than I had ever done. I, for one, was grateful for her presence; it took the heat off of me for a while and allowed me to hone my skills.

If you would have told me back then that I would end up married to that cocky redhead, I would have laughed in your face. Yet, over time, I learned that the cockiness was just a façade. There is not a more loyal, loving, supportive, woman on the planet. She has been my best friend, my confidante, and knows me better than anyone ever has. And despite all of that, we just celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary.

I brought to that marriage my son Jack, who despite my bungled attempts at fatherhood in his early years, is an intelligent young man, who knows the meaning of honor, duty, right and wrong. I am proud to call him my son and my friend.

Thirteen years ago, I became a father for the second time. This time, to a daughter. Melissa was lucky enough to not only inherit her mother's looks, but also her mother's loving heart and viciously dry sense of humor

I can honestly say that without Lisa, Jack, and Melissa waiting for me at home, I would not have survived.

For many years, my family at home was supplemented by my family at the BAU. Just like any family, we all had our role.

One would've thought that Rossi would've been the responsible adult, and he was, the grizzled old profiler who knew the BAU as it started and the BAU as it evolved, but he was also passionate, a thinker and a feeler. I had to rein him in at times, but I can honestly say that if I had to assemble a team today, in five minutes, he would be my first choice.

Derek Morgan came to the BAU courtesy of Chicago PD. The day he walked through the double doors, I wondered what we were thinking. He walked into the bull pen, flashed that Colgate smile, and charmed every woman in the place. Derek turned out to be an excellent profiler and a great friend. Shortly after I took over as Assistant Director, Derek left the FBI for the ATF, but he's remained a good friend and a fixture in my life, someone I consider as close as a brother.

Spencer Reid was like a little brother to most of the BAU staff. He came to us with two doctorates and a wealth of knowledge that was downright frightening and a marksmanship skill level that was terrifying. We spent many hours together at the range and during that time I learned a great deal about him. I've watched him grow into the confident capable profiler he is today. I'm proud to have been a part of his growth and to call him a friend.

When I stepped in to the Assistant Director's role, Erin Strauss asked me to help her pick my replacement as Unit Chief of the BAU. I took some time to seriously consider my current team and one name stood out above them all. Emily Prentiss. She was as no nonsense and by the book as I was and growing up as an Ambassador's Daughter, she had the built in people skills that that position needed. She's done an impressive job with the unit and continues to lead with a passion for the BAU that nearly rivals David Rossi's.

In our BAU family, it's impossible to say the name David Rossi without also saying the name Jennifer Jareau-Rossi in the same breath. Although she's proud to be married to my friend Dave, mentioning JJ only as Dave's wife is not giving her proper credit. She began as our Media Liaison, dealing with the people we in the BAU didn't want to face….the press, the local authorities, just about anyone who would get in our way while we were on the hunt. And did she ever surprise people who thought they could walk right over her. Her ability to soothe the masses and make us look good even when we didn't brought her to the attention of the FBI Hierarchy and they took her from the BAU to become the Bureau Media Liaison. A position, I will make sure she keeps during my tenure as Director.

The heart and soul of the family was Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst, our self titled "Goddess of all Knowledge" and our guardian angel. There isn't one of us who's lives weren't made better just by knowing her. Through out the years, she's become such an integral part of my life, both in the FBI and out, that when asked if I had any preference on an assistant to accompany me to the Director's office, without hesitation I named her and I am honored that she said yes.

The one person I should thank most, though, Jason Gideon, isn't here tonight, but he is in our hearts, and on our minds. When Jason left the BAU, I was called upon to fill his position. It was a daunting task because I knew that although I could fill his position, I could never fill his shoes.

I've been standing here speaking for quite sometime," he laughed. "I promise you, this is not a preview of future speeches. But I would have been remiss if I didn't give thanks where it was due. I am looking forward to my new role with a sense of history, a sense of honor, and a sense of adventure. I'm ready to take the helm of the Bureau and steer it ahead on a positive course through some of the stormiest times in history. As my wife Lisa is fond of saying Bring It On."

Author's Note: I could not have completed this chapter without the amazing assistance of Susan - my birth coach. She pulled this one out of me!! And to Annika, who's suggestions and reviews have kept me going!! And finally, to all of you who came along on this journey. Thank you for your interest and support!