A/N: This is it! The final installment. Enjoy the glimpse into Hotch and Emily's future, as well as a look back at what their first meeting was like from Emily's point of view.

Genre: General

Flashback author: SussiRay

Present Day author: hotchityhotchhotch

"She'll be fine, I promise," Hotch said for the dozenth time before Emily handed over their eight-week-old daughter to JJ.

"I don't know, maybe it's too soon for a date night," Emily said uncertainly, her arms twitching as if she were going to snatch little Mary right back from her godmother.

"Trust me, you guys need one," JJ said. "See you guys in a few hours. Say bye-bye to Mama," she cooed to the dark-haired, blue-eyed baby, grabbing her wrist to feign a wave to her parents. Jack, now five, was already in the other room, playing with some toys.

"I love you, sweetheart," Emily said, ducking in for one last kiss. The baby grabbed a couple handfuls of her mother's hair. "We won't be gone long."

"See? You can do it," Hotch said as they made their way out to the car.

"This had better be a good date night," Emily remarked.

"It will be. Don't worry. Happy anniversary."

Emily's eyes widened for a moment but she immediately returned her expression back to normal as she buckled up.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Hotch asked, guffawing.

"I'm not exactly sitting at home organizing my calendar. I'm up two or three times a night to feed the baby and I'm knee-deep in dirty diapers all day," Emily said somewhat testily.

Hotch stopped at a red light. Good timing. "Honey, it's fine," he said, his laugh much more gentle this time. "I know you're extremely busy and stressed. I figured you didn't remember when you didn't try to make plans for tonight ahead of time like you have in the past. I'm not…disappointed or anything."

Emily forced a small smile. "I'm so tired," she said with a heavy, shaky sigh.

Not prepared for a meltdown on what was supposed to be a romantic, special evening, Hotch was at a loss for words. But he pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her crown until he found something to say. "Everything tonight is relaxing and low-key, I promise. Well, except for the finale."

"Are you kidding me? Just because the doctor said eight weeks doesn't mean you need to go for it at exactly eight weeks."

"I'm not talking about sex. Just…trust me. Do you trust me?"

Emily swallowed back her tears of fatigue and nodded. "Sorry. Sometimes I feel like I never even had the baby, I'm so out of whack."

"Good thing you married just about the most patient man in the world," Hotch said, thinking about the two pedicures he'd given her the other night. After the first, Emily's face had said that it was a tad too messy, so Hotch had given it another try.

"I did. Okay, let's have a nice night. I'm ready to stop whining."

Once the light turned green, Hotch drove on with a languid smile on his face and an arm around Emily's shoulders. Suddenly, a whole new smile sneaked onto her face.

"What?" Hotch asked, enamored, paying all of his attention to Emily.

"Just remembering the first time we met," she said dreamily.

—

Emily leaned into the plush chair standing in the middle of her father's study, her feet propped on the fancy little footstool and one of the classics cracked open across her knees. The sun was shining brightly outside but she had had enough of the stifling heat and was very much content with her plans to stay inside for the rest of the day and not see anyone other than the characters in her book.

She groaned a little when the door creaked open, effectively changing those plans.

"Emily?" he mother's voice sounded. "Are you in here?"

She waited a second, debating if maybe she could get away with pretending she wasn't. Deciding not to risk it, she glanced over the back of the chair. "Here I am, Mother," she said, somewhat forcing forward a smile. "Did you need anything?"

"Oh, Emily. Good. If you would come with me for just a second I'll introduce you to Agent Hotchner."

"Who?"

"Agent Hotchner," her mother said, sounding slightly exasperated. "He's here doing security clearances. He'll be around all summer and I think it's only proper that you two are formally introduced."

Emily sank back onto the chair and rolled her eyes where her mother couldn't see. She couldn't even remember how many agents she had been "formally introduced" to over the years. Very few of them had ever seemed to have any interest in actually getting to know her. When she had been younger, ten or eleven or so, they had mostly seemed to find her a nuisance. And once she had developed breasts they had all stayed away from her under what she assumed was fear that the all-mighty Ambassador Prentiss would think they were hitting on her daughter and end their careers.

Besides, no one ever stayed longer than a couple of months, so there was never any reason for her and the agents to exchange anything other than a few polite words every now and then.

But she knew her duty as the Ambassador's daughter and so she put the fake smile back on her face and pushed herself out of the chair. "Sure, Mother," she said, "let's go meet Agent Whatshisface."

"Hotchner," Ambassador Prentiss said and frowned at her daughter, leading them down the hallway toward the foyer.

Emily walked a few steps behind her mother; making bets with herself about what Agent Hotchwhatever might look like. She was guessing he was in his early forties. Possibly blond and blue eyed. And stocky. Bad dresser. Probably smug as hell, too.

"Agent Hotchner," her mother said, breaking Emily from her thoughts.

She looked up just as the man turned around and she had to bite her lip. Okay, not blond and stocky.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said and his voice was deep and dark and reminded Emily of chocolate. His eyes widened and he looked almost a little frightened and she couldn't help but choke back a giggle at that. Anyone in their right mind would be at least a little afraid of her mother.

He was tall, dark, and handsome. Emily sighed. Obviously she was just as predictable as any other woman. But who didn't like to look a little extra at someone so classically handsome? Out of its own accord her heart beat just a little bit faster.

"Agent Hotchner," her mother said, "I'd like you to meet my daughter, Emily, she's home from Yale for the week."

Emily smiled as Agent Hotchner extended his hand. "Miss Prentiss," he said, as she took his hand in hers and shook it. He returned her smile, dimples creasing his clean shaven cheeks.

"Agent Hotchner, please, it's Emily." She gave his hand a little squeeze before letting it go.

—

Every time she got the least bit annoyed with Hotch and needed to remind herself how dearly she loved him, and sometimes just when her mind had a few free moments and she wanted to think about something beautiful, Emily thought back on their first meeting. It was an introduction that had left her with much more than butterflies in her stomach. It was a feeling she hadn't been able to explain until recently, when she'd promised herself to Hotch and when she'd borne him a child. Now, of course, she knew perfectly well why, in the thirteen years they'd gone without so much as a word from each other, no man had given her the same feeling.

"I don't remember the last time I was so full," Emily said, holding her stomach after a very expensive dinner. Much more than butterflies now. She regretted the last several bites of her decadent crème brûlée.

"The look on that waiter's face was priceless," Hotch said, chuckling. The young man had been somewhat affronted to be asked for a takeout box at such a refined establishment, but had agreed to bring one for Emily. When he'd returned a few minutes later with the box, Emily had already scarfed the rest of her dinner, suddenly ravenous, and had proceeded to order dessert.

"You're lucky I don't have body image issues," Emily said, rubbing her bare forearms to warm them on this chilly night. Hotch, ever the gentleman, slipped his suit jacket off and draped it over Emily's shoulders. "Mmm, thank you. I love you. For some reason I can't stop thinking about the first time we met."

"Oh yeah? Since you've had time to study the Aaron of fifteen years ago, tell me, do I get better looking with age?"

"And a few glasses of wine," Emily cracked.

"I walked right into that one. You know what?" Hotch said suddenly. "I think I want the kids with us for this next part."

"Aaron, it's nine o'clock."

"Mary always wakes up at nine or so for a feeding anyway, and no babysitter can ever get Jack to bed that soon. You know he could teach a doctorate level class on stalling."

"What's so important that the kids need to be with us?"

"You'll see."

—

"Where are we going?" Jack asked excitedly from the backseat a short time later. He was in his pajamas but wide awake.

"It's a surprise," Hotch said.

"Oh, how was work today?" Emily asked.

"It was good. I miss the BAU less and less these days. DEA is actually pretty interesting."

"I'm dreading the end of my maternity leave. I might need to make a career change myself. I like the traveling but not quite as much now that we're growing."

"Maybe you should get a different job, Emily," Jack said. "You could be a teacher. Or a doctor."

"Have I ever told you how adorable you are?" Emily asked, reaching into the backseat to jiggle Jack's knee. Though she sometimes wished for Jack to call her his mommy, too, she knew that Haley had done a lot to maintain that honor, including forgetting any grudges and working with Hotch once he left the BAU in order to alter their custody arrangement.

Soon, Hotch was weaving the family through streets that seemed awfully familiar to Emily. Then she remembered their first official date, a few years back, when Hotch had driven Emily home and she'd suddenly demanded that he pull over.

"Whose house is this?" Jack asked when Hotch stopped in the very same place without Emily's prompting.

"This…might to be our new house," Hotch said with a quiet sort of grandiosity. He was eagerly awaiting Emily's reaction.

"Honey, there's no way we can afford this," Emily said, though her heart raced at the sight of the brick Victorian. Even its silhouette was breathtaking on its own. "It's a sweet sentiment—"

"Turns out the house has been on and off the market all this time because of…something not so attractive in the disclosure. Nothing we can't clean up." Hotch cleared his throat.

Emily figured someone had been murdered in the house and Hotch didn't want to say anything in front of Jack. The possibility didn't bother her much. As long as there weren't threats smeared in blood all over the walls, she knew she could handle it. Of course, she would be looking into what crime had occurred there before she signed off on anything.

"Plus, it needs a new roof," Hotch added, shrugging. "But it came down in price a lot because it wasn't selling. I talked to a realtor and he said he's ninety-nine percent sure it's ours if we make an offer."

"It's big," Jack remarked. "Does it have a pool?"

"Actually, it does," Hotch replied. "What do you think?" he asked Emily.

"Where do we get the money for the down payment?" she challenged him.

"We've been saving to buy another car in cash. Mine can last a few more years, though. We can use that and our rainy day money for the down payment and a roof instead. So?"

Emily closed her eyes. When she had first lain eyes on this house, she had envisioned Jack chasing a little sister around the yard, and she had felt another one along the way. She peeled her eyes open, reaching over to hold her husband close. "One condition," she whispered into his ear.

"I'm listening."

"You know how we were talking the other night about trying for one more?"

Hotch pulled back and his eyebrows twitched. Mary stirred in the back and started to fuss.

A/N: Both authors would like to thank everyone who has stuck with this story since January 31, 2011. That's almost 3 years! We hope you loved reading it as much as we loved writing it. As always, reviews are much appreciated!