Just a quick Hotch/Emily two-shot. After ringing in the New Year with the team the night before, they decide to have their own private celebration in the morning after.

I don't own Criminal Minds.

Song Prompt: "Dancing On The Ceiling" by Lionel Richie

Dancing On The Ceiling

Emily Prentiss rolled over with a groan as she tried to escape the spotlight on her face. But no matter how hard she tried, there was no way to avoid the bright light. Pulling the pillow over her head, she started to settle when a soft chuckle caused her to pause.

Lifting the corner, she cracked open an eye to see what had made that sound. Blinking rapidly to correct her fuzzy vision, it dawned on her that it was not a what, but a who…and that who happened to be Aaron Hotchner.

Sitting up quickly, Emily felt her world begin to spin out of control as her stomach roiled in protest. Groaning low, she lay back against the pillow and took a few deep breaths.

"Hotch," she whispered as loud as her throbbing head would allow, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, good morning to you, too, Emily," he greeted with another chuckle. "I take it you are not feeling up to par this bright and beautiful morning."

"Could you not shout?" she asked. "My head is about to explode."

"After last night, I'm surprised it hasn't," Hotch observed and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What did I do?" She tried to remember the previous night's events, but her brain could only pull up bits and pieces.

Hotch got thoughtful. "Tequila shots, two whiskey sours, and a pineapple amaretto," he replied.

"Uggghhh," she groaned. "Pineapple amaretto? What was I, drunk?"

"That was the general consensus…especially when you started dancing on the bar."

Emily opened one eye. "No I didn't."

He nodded. "Something about wanting to imitate 'Dancing On The Ceiling'. Fred Astaire can rest in peace that you haven't taken his gig. "

She covered her face in her hands. "Oh God! Tell me that Strauss wasn't there!"

Hotch considered her request. "I could…but I would be lying." Her cry of anguish made him snort. "You sure know what you are doing. Especially with that kick turn number."

"Tell me that I kept my shirt on."

"Barely. But I think you made a couple hundred in tips for the last dance on the bar."

"You're kidding me!"

"I'm a federal officer and bound to tell the truth."

"Oh God!" she groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.

Hotch went over to the dresser and grabbed his cell phone. Sitting back down on the bed, he clicked on the images. "Do you want to see the pictures?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Emily froze. "The what?" She sat up despite her body's protests.

"Pictures." He turned the screen toward her. "See?" He flashed a picture of the previous night's party. "There's JJ and Dave waving at the camera." He clicked the button. "There's Reid sitting off in the corner reading a book." Another click. "Oh…that's not a good one of Strauss. Neither is that one. What exactly do you call this move Morgan is doing?" He flashed the picture quickly.

"You're lying," Emily whispered.

"I thought you didn't want to see."

"Ugh, since you have the phone containing the incriminating evidence of my inability to hold my liquor…I may as well see. Then I can start negotiations."

"Blackmailing me?" Hotch inquired in mock surprise. "You do realize that that is a federal offense?"

"So is murder," she replied. Shooting him a look, she moved to grab the phone.

Hotch easily moved away from her grasp. "Not nice."

"Let me see, please," she begged.

"Why?"

"So, I know what to expect when I get into work on Monday." Moving quickly, she grabbed the phone.

"Hey!" Hotch protested. "Give it back!" He reached for the phone, lost his balance and fell on top of her. He tried not to think of her breasts pressed against his chest as he tried to get the phone back.

"No way! You have the picture and I want to see it." She tried to avoid his grasp as her fingers clicked thru the saved images. "Oh no! Tell me that isn't me!" She tried to close her eyes to erase the image.

"It's you." Hotch took the phone back and snapped it shut. "Satisfied?"

"No." She took a couple of deep breaths. "You can get off of me now."

His face was inches from hers. "Why?" he challenged.

Instead of answering, she changed the subject. "Tell me why you're here in my bedroom?"

"You were too wasted to drive, so I got us a cab."

"Thanks. So, why didn't you head home after doing your civic duty?" His face was so close. She tried to ignore it.

"Because I was a little tipsy myself so I left my car at the hotel."

"You could have taken a taxi back."

"I could have," he agreed, "but after what you consumed last night, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Emily shifted under Hotch's weight. "What about Jack?"

"Jessica is taking care of him."

"You could have been home with him last night to celebrate New Year's."

"He's only five; New Year's doesn't mean much to him other than the fireworks…which he always sleeps thru." Hotch looked her in the eye. "Besides, you needed me more."

"Thanks." She took in that Hotch was still dressed, sans his government issued shoes. "Did you sleep in that?"

"Yes."

"I thought the rumours of you sleeping in your suit were just that," she observed lightly, but her blood ran hot.

"I was a guest. Besides, I thought the shock of me being in your bed would be bad enough without seeing me in my boxers."

"Boxers? Really? I figured you for the 'in the buff' kind of guy." Her hand clamped over her mouth the moment the words were out.

"I am," he replied softly.

"You're what?"

"I sleep in the buff." His eyes danced with amusement at her reaction.

"Oh." Emily tried to occupy her thoughts with something other than the mental image of her boss sleeping in his birthday suit.

Hotch dipped his head down and kissed her neck. "What's wrong? You don't believe me?"

"Well…" Emily looked at him, then at the floor. "I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore." She forced a small smile. "But you did."

"Good." He crooked a finger under her chin. "Why Agent Prentiss, I think you're blushing."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are," he corrected. Lowering his lips to hers, he covered her mouth for a deep kiss. Moaning in her throat, Emily moved closer to him. As his tongue begged for entrance, she parted her lips to grant him better access.