This is an early birthday fic for my good friend and fellow author, Tigereye77. May you have a wonderful year ahead filled with happiness, good health and not a crazy amount of work. I've had so much fun working with you on our HotLy challenges, so here's to more in the coming year!

I do hope you like this fic, even though jealous Hotch didn't turn out to be really that jealous. Apologies for that!

Thanks saturdayslump for the plot outline! You're gorgeous.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters (which is probably a good thing) but the plot is all mine!

Hotch was just taking his first sip of scotch when he saw her.

There she was, on the dance floor, wearing a short black dress that left nothing to the imagination. On her feet were high-heeled sandals which made her legs appear even longer than they already were. Tonight, her hair was tied up in a careless knot, baring the curve of her neck to his hungry gaze.

His eyes narrowed when he saw that she was dancing up close and personal to a tall, well-built male. Even in the crowded, dimly lit bar, Hotch thought he looked like an arrogant sob with too much money, judging by the suit he was wearing. What the hell was she doing with a guy like that when she could have any man she wanted in the place? And probably some of the women too, he thought, catching the come hither look from a blonde eyeing Emily from the other side of the bar.

Focusing back at his ex-colleague, his eyes drank in the sinuous movements of her lithe body. But when she pressed herself against her dance partner, draping her arms around his thick neck, he felt a wave of jealousy streak through him, rushing through his veins and raising his temperature. His hand tightened around his glass when the man grinned down at her, then bent down to say something into her ear. As he did so, his hands slid down her waist and grabbed her ass, pulling her closer to him.

Hotch was off his bar stool and halfway across the room before he even realised what he was doing. What was wrong with him? Emily was a friend and an ex-colleague. Nothing more. He had no right interfering when it was obviously consensual. No right at all, even though he had realised, all too late, that he felt something for her. It had taken her leaving the BAU for him to come to his senses. He had dwelt upon his feelings for her to such an extent that it had eventually affected his relationship with Beth. Once that had ended, he had considered going to see Emily. But before he could gather up his courage, he overheard Garcia talking about the brunette's new relationship with some doctor. And a few months later when he had found out that the relationship had ended, he still couldn't bring himself to reveal his true feelings.

Tonight was the first time he had seen her in five months. His hands clenched into impotent fists as he watched her pull away from the fair-haired man with linebacker shoulders, smile invitingly and turn towards the exit. The man grinned, looking triumphant as he followed after her. It was all Hotch could do not to stride over there and break his nose.

Not quite knowing how it happened, Hotch found himself standing outside in the warm, sultry air, trailing after the couple, who was about thirty yards in front of him. They paused at the corner of the bar, discussing the logistics of whose car they were taking when Hotch drew level with them.

He had no idea what he was going to say or do. All he knew was that he had to stop Emily before she left with the jackass. "Emily."

She swung around to look at him, dark eyes wide with surprise. "Hotch? Wh..what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd grab a drink and then I saw you." His heart thudded in his chest when her gaze locked with his, something unnamed passing between them.

The other man cleared his throat and Emily blinked. "Oh. Um.. Dylan, this is Aaron Hotchner, my ex-boss."

Hotch reluctantly turned to jackass-in-a-suit and nodded, ignoring the hand the man extended.

"Err.. Dylan Smythe." The man looked uncomfortable. Hotch didn't give a rat's ass.

He turned back to Emily who looked startled at his rudeness. "Emily, I need to talk to you."

"Well, actually Aaron, Emily and I were just about to leave," interrupted Dylan.

"Really?" asked Hotch. His tone contained an arctic chill as his eyes met the other man's. Dylan swallowed. "If you're that keen to leave, why don't you go ahead. Emily and I are going to have a conversation whether you like it or not."

"Hotch..." Emily's voice was soft. He didn't look her her, and his expression never changed from cold and forbidding, but his chest tightened. She wasn't protesting at his less than reasonable behaviour. He knew he was acting unlike himself, and so did she.

"Hey now, come on buddy, I saw her first." Dylan, asshole, whatever, turned to Emily. "Babe, tell him. You and me, back at my place, remember?"

Hotch tried not to smile when he saw the way her eyes harden under the light of the street lamp.

"You saw me first?" Her voice was deceptively gentle.

"Fucking A! He can't just butt in and take up your time when I was the one who bought you drinks and put in the time to you know..." He paused and this time Hotch allowed a smile to escape.

You poor, pathetic bastard.

"Leave." Emily looked furious. Her nostrils were flared and her jaw was clenched. She was magnificent. Hotch felt a thrill of heat which had nothing to do with jealousy shoot through him.

"What?" Dylan blustered, looking surprised.

"Get out of here before I cold cock you."

"C'mon now, there's no need to be such a bitch." The blonde man stepped closer to Emily, an ugly look on his face. With his height and build, he towered over her even in her heels and Hotch immediately stepped forward and grabbed a handful of the other man's shirt and tie, dragging him forward.

He leaned close until his face was right up against Dylan's. "You heard the lady. Get out of here before she shoots you."

The man gaped at him. "What? You're lying. She's not armed."

The Unit Chief smiled coldly. "No, but I am. And she has my full permission to use it." A split second later he felt Emily smoothly remove his Glock from the holster. And then the body in front of him tensed. Fully expecting the punch, Hotch ducked and struck his fist into the surprisingly soft torso. Apparently the former linebacker had let himself go. Too bad.

Dylan grunted out in pain and doubled over, gasping for breath and cursing.

There was a sound of the safety being released and then Emily was speaking again. "Get out of here and I won't shoot you. In your junk anyhow. I can't make any promises about your limbs."

Hotch didn't have to look at her to know she was aiming at Jackass.

"Fuck! All right, all right I'm going! You're a crazy bitch, you know that! You better watch your back," he called out as he stumbled away.

Hotch turned back to his ex-colleague after the car drove away. Emily silently handed back his Glock and he re-holstered it.

"Well," she said, looking up at him curiously. "What was it you needed to talk to me about?"

He took two steps towards her. "This." Then he bent down and covered her mouth with his.

Emily's gasp of surprise was smothered by the hard pressure of Hotch's mouth on hers. His lips coaxed hers open with lethal intent, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth with strokes that left her with no doubt about his motive. He wanted to possess her, make her his in every sense of the word.

And she wanted him to. She, Ms Independent, who insisted on splitting the bill with her dates and was a firm believer in the equality of the sexes. She wanted to submit to him, let him possess her body. Because he already possessed her heart and her soul. She had missed the team when she had left, but it was her Unit Chief whom she dreamt about and whom she yearned for with every fibre of her being. But he was dating Beth, and he was happy. So she had left without saying anything. None of that mattered now.

She didn't hesitate as she twined her arms around his neck, pressing her body flush against his. Her tongue duelled with his and their mouths ground together, breaths coming hard and fast. The fingers of his right hand slipped into the hair at the back of her head, loosening the knot, while his left slid down her back, making her shiver with need from the mere warmth.

A burst of laughter sounded as a group of people exited the bar and Hotch pulled away. She stared up at him dazed, her eyes registering his wet mouth and eyes glittering with desire, and then he took her hand and was pulling her into the dark alley next to the bar.

Emily didn't have a chance to say anything before his mouth was back on hers, his larger body pushing her into the brick wall behind her. As he ravaged her mouth, his left hand dragged down the strap of her dress over her shoulder, exposing her breast. He sucked on her tongue and his fingers tugged gently at the tight bud of her nipple, making her back arch into him. Hotch broke off their kiss and bent down to take the hard tip into his mouth, his hard suction making Emily's head fall back into the wall.

"Oh God, Hotch." She moaned loudly when he did the same to her other breast, the slightly rough texture of her dress between his mouth and her nipple making sharp sensations streak from the point to the juncture of her thighs. As if he had read her mind, he pulled her dress roughly up to her waist and straightened up slightly, pressing a string of kisses up her chest and neck, catching her earlobe between his teeth and raking it.

Emily shuddered, unable to believe how aroused she was from the attention he was paying to her ear. As his tongue ran around the outer rim of her ear, he nudged her legs apart and slipped his hand between them. She practically jumped when he pushed aside her thong and glided his middle finger through the liquid soaked folds. His finger unerringly found the spot where she craved his touch the most. His mouth captured hers as he stroked her with gentle and yet purpose fuelled movements. Circle, up, down, up, down, circle, circle, all the way down. Dipping into her briefly, Emily clutched at his shoulders, feeling the muscles of her thighs tense as release drew closer and closer. Back up to her clit, circle, stroke, stroke. Harder now, faster, faster, a small rub on top, back down on the nub and then she couldn't concentrate any more as the tight ball exploded violently within her. She climaxed so hard she involuntarily bit down on his lip, causing him to grunt.

He removed his hand and drew back while she leaned heavily against the wall, grateful for its support while she tried to remain upright on trembling legs. She was still trying to recover her breath and her senses when Hotch took hold of her thighs. "Hold me," he commanded. She grasped his shoulders automatically when he lifted her, spreading her thighs apart. And then he was pushing her thong aside again and filling her with his hard length.

Oh God, when had he even unzipped himself? Emily gasped for breath as her body struggled wildly to accommodate his girth. Her ex-supervisor was more generously equipped than she had guessed. And she didn't even get the chance to look at him. Later, she thought dazedly. And then any rational thoughts she might have had left scattered when he surged slowly into her. She moaned loudly when he was finally seated fully within her. He felt amazing. As if he was made for her and she for him.

Her eyes met with his. It was too dark to see the expression in his eyes, but she somehow knew they were reflecting something more than desire. He withdrew and thrust slowly back in, again and again, his eyes never leaving hers. It wasn't long before his movements sped up. Emily was glad she had already peaked because she could now watch him as he neared his. His breath was coming in heavy pants and his shoulders strained at his suit jacket as he pistoned his hips against hers, his shaft stroking her inner walls and making her catch her breath at the sensation it invoked. Her mouth parted, she watched with fascination as he surged into her and suddenly paused, a low groan vibrating through gritted teeth. Her breath caught in her throat at the surge of warmth as he jetted his release deep within her.

It took a long moment before he pulled away and released her thighs. Emily slid down the wall and tried to stand on legs that didn't feel like hers, so weak and trembling were they. Hotch braced his forearms on the wall, bracketing her head, his body shuddering as he drew deep breaths, obviously trying to recover his composure. Emily smiled, ridiculously pleased that his orgasm had been as intense as hers was. She quickly righted her clothing and then his. Sliding her arms around his waist, she turned to press a kiss on his jawline, tasting the sweet saltiness of his sweat.

Hotch pushed himself away from the wall, but didn't move away from her, instead cupping her face gently in his gun-calloused palms. "Are you all right?"

She gave him a luminous smile, happier than she ever remembered being. "I'm perfect."

He looked rueful. "Even after I just made love to you in an alley behind a seedy bar?"

Her heart leapt. Made love? Not sex? She couldn't bear even the trace of regret she could see on his face. "I'm perfect," she reiterated. "But I'll be even better after you take me home and make love to me again. On a bed this time." She bit her lip and his hands slid down her back holding her close to him. "Unless I've worn you out already," she teased.

"Hey," he protested, lips quirking into a crooked smile. God, he was gorgeous. His smile slowly faded and he looked serious. "Emily..." His voice trailed off and his throat worked. He looked at a loss for words, her former Unit Chief and the ex-federal prosecutor. It filled her with warmth as nothing else could.

She put her hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble against her skin. "I know," she said softly looking lovingly into his dark eyes. "Me too."

I hoped you liked that. Please do send a review my way if you're so inclined. I would love to hear from you!