RED

a rooftop, cheap whiskey, and a cigarette

hi guys!! this is my first time trying something like this, so if it's a little rocky - please forgive me 🫶!! 

anyway, I hope y'all enjoy!!

word count:1240

a rooftop, cheap whiskey, and a cigarette

Special Agent Emily Prentiss needed a minute. It had been a long day, and she needed to be alone. Making her way up to the rooftop, she found herself standing at a table near the railing. String lights all along the roof illuminated the space, mixing with the city lights to provide just enough light. The air was crisp around her as she pulled her dark blazer close with her free hand. The other held a slowly dying cigarette, casting the faintest glow on the railing below. It was a horrible habit; she knew that, but she didn't care. Not in that moment, anyway. Extinguishing the last of the cigarette, she turned and let out a sigh. The Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI had been called into Dallas earlier that morning, and they were racing the clock. Emily, along with her coworkers, had just given the Dallas Police Department the profile for the serial killer running loose in the streets. Someone was running around the Dallas nightclubs, luring young men away with the promise of a good time, and they were turning up days later. Brutally and clinically dissected, these victims didn't stand a chance against this killer.

Female, mid-to-late twenties, social butterfly. Background in healthcare, possibly someone who worked in a morgue or surgical setting. This is a brilliant individual, with incredible discipline. She will not stop until caught. Remnants of the profile flashed through Emily's mind as she unconsciously lit another cigarette. Lost in her thoughts about the case, she did not notice when someone on the roof joined her.

"I thought you'd be with everyone else in the conference room." Looking away from the sprawling view of downtown Dallas, Emily turned towards the individual.

"Jesus, Hotch! Way to scare the shit out of someone," she replied, suddenly on high alert. Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU, was standing in front of her, drink in hand.

"I assume you're trying to piece together the profile?"

Emily nodded, wishing she had brought her coat with her. The cigarettes were helping, but not enough. "Yes, I thought if I cleared my head, it would start to make more sense. I can't help but think there's something we're missing in the profile," she started. "Something that Reid said earlier is stuck in my head. There's no sign of assault on the victims, but they all had the same jewelry applied post-mortem. A gold wedding band on both ring fingers, and a single earring in the right ear."

Lifting his drink, Aaron took a long pause before responding. "We missed something, but it's not going to come to us now. Maybe Reid can-"

"Can I steal a sip of that?" Emily cut Aaron off before he could finish his thought. "I didn't expect Dallas to be this cold in March, and these smokes aren't cutting it." Without giving him a chance to answer, Emily closed the gap between them and took a swig of his drink, discovering the straight whiskey he was nursing.

Slightly taken aback, all Aaron could do was nod as he watched her steal his drink. Even in the high heels she favored at work, Emily was at least half a foot shorter than him, if not more. Her jet-black hair, just slightly darker than his, was past her shoulders, blowing around as gusts of wind hit. As the wind was tousling her hair, it was also stinging her cheeks, illustrating a slight blush that was starting to match the shade of her top. The lights from the city reflected in her eyes as he watched her, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his lips. Drawing him out of his thoughts, Emily took a drag from her cigarette and wordlessly offered it to Aaron, who accepted without hesitation.

Shocked, yet feeling oddly attracted to her boss, it was Emily's turn to watch. Aaron, or Hotch, emulated an air of confidence and security that drew her towards him. As always, he was dressed in his usual suit, but at some point in the night, he had lost his tie. His usually clean-shaven face was sporting a dark stubble, a consequence of a short turnaround time between cases. He had looked stressed, more so than usual, on both the flight earlier that morning, and most of the day. But now, as he leaned against the rooftop railing of their hotel, he looked more relaxed than ever. Aaron and Emily were friends, but in this light, she felt a twitch of something more, something bigger.

"You know, I wouldn't have pegged you as a smoker." Hotch's statement snapped her back into reality, and her eyes refocused on him.

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Straight Arrow." Hotch chuckled and passed it back to her. Emily was stunned. She actually made the Aaron Hotchner, infamously stoic, laugh?

"Mr. Straight Arrow, that's a new one. There's a lot of things you don't know about me yet Prentiss," he retorted, taking advantage of her moment of shock, and grabbing his drink back. As he reached over, Hotch brushed her hand and froze. Eyes locked on each other, neither dared move, interrupted only by an exclamation of pain from Emily.

"Shit!" The cigarette had burnt to the end, burning Emily''s fingers before she flicked it down and stomped it out. Unsure of what had just happened, she deflected. "It's late, and we have a long day tomorrow. I think I'm going to head down."

Hotch nodded in agreement, and together, they walked to the elevators. Following Emily onto the elevator, he handed her his drink. "Are you okay?"

Swallowing the last of Aaron's whiskey, she nodded. "God, this stuff sucks. Please tell me it's from the minibar and not your personal stash," she teased, before answering his question. "I'll be fine, not the first time I've accidentally burnt myself."

The elevator doors opened, revealing the floor the whole team was staying on. It was well past midnight now, so Emily assumed everyone was already asleep for the night. Walking down the hallway together, she stopped and turned at her door. "Goodnight Aaron," she said softly, turning back to her door.

"Goodnight, Emily." Barely a whisper came from Hotch, who was already across the hall, halfway in his room.

Closing the door behind her, Emily sunk down against it. Something had changed between her and Hotch, something was different. She had always been a least a little bit attracted to the man, but never thought to say anything because she didn't think it was reciprocated. Now, she wasn't certain of anything. Pushing herself up with a groan, Emily glanced at the clock. 12:37. Damn it, she thought, pulling off her shoes and starting the shower. Now was not the time to think about this, and she needed to be up in a few hours.

Across the hall, Aaron's mind was racing. He set his cup down and started gathering his badge and gun for the morning. Aaron had been intrigued by the girl with jet-black hair ever since she started at the BAU a few years back. Sure, they knew each other in passing almost 20 years ago when he worked under her mother, but that was nothing. Aaron had felt a shift in the air on the roof that night, one that filled him with a warm feeling. Glancing down at where their hands met, he sighed and turned out the light.