Disclaimer: I wish, but no, don't own the characters/show.

A more persistent knock covers the rest of her cursing, and one look at his deepening frown has her opening the door before he can consider kicking it down or call for back-up.

"Hotch? What are you doing here?"

"Check-up. Your doctor asked me to look in on you, make sure infection wasn't setting in."

"Honestly, I'm fine, just tired and-"

"Emily."

It's only her name, but on his lips it's downright deadly, and his most definitely not Periphery-Hotch tonight.

"Fine," she sighs, trying to look like she's still fighting him as butterflies do the conga in her stomach.

Allowing him inside she closes the door and quickly makes for the couch, ready to get this over with when a thought occurs to her.

"Where's Jack?"

"Still at Jessica's, we got back late so I decided to pick him up in the morning," he answers quickly, moving to sit down beside her on the couch.

She offers up her arm without fight, her last trump card dealt. Jack was priority, but obviously Hotch was two steps ahead of her.

Damn him.

He's gentle, downright tender while removing the bandages, and while she appreciates the gesture having to focus on the task at hand and not how his fingers feel on the skin he's exposed makes her want to bite her nails. A lot.

The stitches are small and precise, good work, and the skin only a little red to indicate irritation, but no swelling or puss which meant Hotch's task was accomplished.

"Thanks Hotch, I'll just see you to the door and-"

"No."

"No?"

"I need to rewrap it. Where's your first aid kit?"

She makes a wave towards her bathroom, too shocked at his persistence to argue. Just what was going through that head of his?

He's back in a flash and she narrows her eyes at him as he sits back down. Quickly unrolling bandages and finding gauze.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hotch?" she finally asks as he starts to wrap her arm, his fingers still and there's a hint of a smile on his lips as he raises one eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"I've just never known Aaron Hotchner to make house-calls, that's all."

"Really? I do it for Morgan all the time, even kiss his boo-boos to make him feel better."

"Ew, just ew! Yep, it's official, you're a pod person."

He laughs, actually laughs, and she feels a spike of pride for making him do that. Periphery-Hotch might be off duty just for tonight, but she must say she's enjoying Up-Close-and-Personal-Hotch while she has him.

"Would you like one?"

"Like one of what?"

"A kiss."

She nearly swallows her tongue.

"What?"

"A kiss to make you feel better."

Her tongue is safe, but now her heart is trying to crawl its way up her throat. She's not sure which is worse.

"Um, sure."

She answers before she can over think it, and as his eyes widen a little she realizes she's called his bluff. He never actually thought she'd say yes.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

But before she can finish, give him an out, his lips are pressed just next to her stitches and she forgets what words mean, much less that they make speech when put together.

It's as tender as his other ministrations have been, as warm and supporting as his arms around her at the hospital had been, and if she ever hears a junior agent mutter about "Hard-Ass Hotchner" from now on she will personally kick their asses, not just chew them out verbally like before.

The kiss ends just as quickly as it began, but she has to smile at the blush that dusts his face and his inability to look her in the eye.

He finishes dressing her wound in silence, but it's comfortable, only a hint of awkwardness still clinging to the air as she leads him to the door once he's finished. They stand together at the threshold, but what that threshold is besides it being her door she doesn't examine too closely.

"Thanks for checking on me, and for, everything else," she says and he nods back.

"You're welcome. Good night, Prentiss."

And just like that Periphery-Hotch is back, and it saddens her a little.

"Hey, Hotch?"

"Yeah?"

With her good hand she reaches up and grabs his lapel, bringing him down just enough for her to press a kiss to his cheek before retreating.

What she would give for a camera just then.

"For any boo-boos you might have," she smiles, as if connecting the word boo-boos with her boss is an everyday occurrence.

What she doesn't realize is that her hand is still holding his lapel, and only when his hand covers it does she realize her error.

He's smiling, and she suddenly realizes why he doesn't make a habit of it. That smile would be made illegal in every state the BAU ever visited for disturbing the peace. No UNSUB would ever be caught again because the team would constantly be wrangling wanton women and men.

Easily removing her now limp hand with his larger one, he holds it for a moment before saying, "I feel better already."

And then, God help her, he actually winked, and was gone, walking purposefully down the hall towards the elevators.

She'd been tired before, but now it'd be a wonder if she ever slept again.