Written kwa Monties, Lairofthemuses@LJ.
…Or Anything
“Is this kiti, kiti cha taken?”
Emily looked up from the crossword, a smile crossing her lips. She still wore surprise in her eyes but his hazel gaze never drifted from hers.
“What are wewe doing here?” she asked.
“Best variety of chai in the state.” BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner held up his large mug. “Is this kiti, kiti cha taken?”
“Um, no, it isn’t. Please sit.”
He did and right after came the awkward silence. Emily cleared her throat and pushed her paper to the side.
“No coffee this morning?” she asked for lack of anything else.
“Autumn is definitely chai time for me.” He replied.
“What kind did wewe get?”
“Blackberry pomegranate, and I have to tell wewe its pretty good. What are wewe having?”
“Kenyan roast with…”
“Light cream and enough sugar to kill a ng'ombe moose at fifty paces.” Hotch finished.
“Splenda.” Emily corrected.
“OK, enough Splenda to kill a ng'ombe moose. You're off sugar now?”
“Being hyper is for people in their 20s. In your thirties wewe have to get your kicks some other way.”
“Tackling Unsubs might be a good way.”
“Hotch, what are wewe doing here?” Emily asked again.
“I told you.” He took a deep breath and a sip of his tea.
“I come here a lot; I've never seen wewe before.”
“Actually I read about this place online. Coffee, Tea, au Anything…I thought the name was catchy. I've been here a few times but never stayed for the view.”
“What view?”
They were sitting out on the side deck with the perfect view of Old Town Alexandria, VA. It really was a city of walkers and on a Sunday late morning there was much to see. Most were just nyumbani from 10am services at local churches and the heathens were just coming out of dark apartments au sleepy residential neighborhoods.
“Oh c'mon, you're a profiler.” Hotch said. “You upendo to people watch. wewe see them walk kwa and imagine what conversations they are having on their cell phones au what they're saying to their companions.”
“Guilty as charged.” Emily grinned. “Sometimes I drag Nat down here to do it with me. We’re rather merciless. It makes my father laugh.”
Hotch didn’t doubt it. He would upendo to be a fly on the ukuta when the Prentiss women went at it. He was about to ask her something else but the thought was interrupted kwa her cell phone. It must have been her personal cell; it was a ring tone Hotch didn’t recognize. It sounded like heavy metal.
“Excuse me for a moment. Hello.”
“Emily, it’s your mother.”
“Hello Mother, how are you?”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“Actually…”
“Where are you, sweetheart?” Elizabeth asked.
“Boca Raton.” Emily replied.
“You couldn’t possibly be on vacation.”
“No, um, serial arsonist…targeting bars. It’s a tough case.”
“Oh well, I don’t want to disturb your work.” Elizabeth said.
“Are wewe alright?” Emily asked.
“Yes, I'm fine. We should talk when wewe come home; we can have dinner.”
“Sure. I don’t know how long I’ll be here. We just got in last night. Let me call wewe in a few days.”
“Alright, sweetheart. I don’t want to take wewe away from your work. I upendo you.”
“I upendo wewe too, Mother. Goodbye.”
Emily closed the phone and slipped it back into her jeans pocket. It wasn’t the lie that embarrassed her but that she did it in front of Hotch. Somewhere down deep she still suspected that he suspected that she was untrustworthy.
“Good work.” He said.
“I didn’t like doing that.”
“But wewe did it so well.”
“It’s always easier when she’s on the phone.” Emily replied. “She can read my eyes…I can never do it when we’re face to face.”
“The calmness of your voice, at first I wondered how could wewe possibly master that and then I remembered.”
“Remembered what?” Emily asked.
“You have a Masters degree in Communications. wewe can probably fool anyone.”
“I don’t like fooling people, as wewe say. I prefer honesty. It’s just that, well with Mother…”
“You surely don’t have to tell me.” Hotch couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh right, wewe have met her.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “But I was talking about my own mother. Of course I’m not half as good as wewe when it comes to maternal deception.”
“Why not?”
“My accent gives me away.”
“What? wewe don’t have an accent.” Emily said.
“Oh yes I do…and when mama is close, even kwa telephone, it comes right out of me like water.”
“Oh my God,” Emily covered her mouth. “Do that again.”
“It’s not as easy to turn on and off as wewe might think, Emily.” Hotch alisema in a southern lilt.
It wasn’t heavy like people she remembered hearing when she went to her mother’s hometown of Birmingham. She was going to ask Hotch how he used to sound like that but now sounded like this but knew her mother had changed her voice as well. She liked the way his sounded, sexy and dapper like a zaidi tolerant version of Will LaMontagne, Jr.
“Where are wewe from?”
“Virginia,” Hotch cleared his throat and came back with his normal voice. “Born and raised in Richmond. Well, I was born in Richmond, and then we moved to Manassas to be closer to my grandmother but moved back to Richmond when I started school and my father ran for State Senate.” Those two sentences were probably zaidi than Hotch had told anyone about himself in a long time. Usually revelations like that made him uncomfortable but not over chai with Emily Prentiss. He noticed lately that on cases he was giving little pieces of himself to victims and Unsubs alike but someone he’d known for two years didn’t even know where he was born. “So wewe see, when the accent slips out lying is impossible.”
“What’s your mother like?” Emily asked.
As if knowing she was out of coffee, the server came to the meza, jedwali and asked if Emily wanted a refill. She nodded. Hotch also wanted zaidi tea. The server alisema she would be back with everything they needed and the new brunch menu. Suddenly they were having brunch.
“My mother…she’s unpredictable.”
“You definitely didn’t pick up that trait. Oh wait, that came out wrong.”
“I don’t think it did.” Hotch replied.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Hotch.”
“Oh yes wewe did.” He grinned, letting his accent out again.
Emily didn't know why it made her giggle like a giddy teenage girl. He just sounded so sexy, not at all like her buttoned down Unit Chief. It made her think of steamy summer nights on a porch swing au even better a kitanda as a ceiling shabiki didn’t quite cool her off. It made her think of sweat sliding down her chest and sweet kisses as he caught the salty saline on his tongue. Jesus, could an accent give a woman an orgasm? It had been such a long time Emily wasn’t at all sure.
“As least you're from somewhere.” She said. “It’s not easy being from nowhere.”
“I always looked at it as wewe being from everywhere.” Hotch replied.
“I didn’t.”
He nodded understanding as the server came back. Drinks were refilled and they were aliyopewa menus.
“Are wewe hungry?” Hotch asked.
“I'm pretty much always hungry. I'm sure I can find room for something.”
“The website alisema they had the best pastries in the DC Metro area.”
“I was thinking about Belgian waffles, maybe chokoleti chip silver dollar pancakes. Ooh, Eggs Benedict might be nice. What's your inayopendelewa late night food?”
“I sleep at night.” Hotch replied.
“Since when? I hear wewe pacing hotel rooms all over the country.”
“OK, but I don’t often eat. I drink…God that probably doesn’t sound good.”
“It sounds accurate. We all drink, Hotch.”
“So what's your poison?” he asked.
“When I'm actually able to run a bath and cuddle with George, its wine. I upendo a good Pikes Clare Valley au chateau Ste. Michelle. The perfect blend of sweetness and dry goes great with a bowl of fruit. It helps me relax. Now if I just want to get plastered and act as if I never have to return to Quantico, I'm pulling out the SoCo for some Alabama Slammers. I think I’m going to have the waffles.”
“George?” Hotch asked.
“I'm sorry?”
“Who’s George?”
“My cat.” Emily replied.
“You have a cat?”
“Mmm,” she nodded. “He’s an Abyssinian, almost two years old. My mother actually bought him for me for my birthday. I was a little mortified at the time…I didn’t want to be the cat lady. I mean it was bad enough I was single, but a cat, oh God. Can we talk about something else?”
“You brought up George, I didn’t.” He said.
“You're right, it’s entirely my fault.”
“I didn’t say that. wewe didn’t hear me say that.”
“I hear a lot of things wewe don’t say.” Emily said.
“Cryptic much?”
“Takes one to know one.” She laughed. “OK, wewe know about George so tell me what's in your apartment.”
“A little reciprocity?” Hotch asked.
“If wewe say so.”
“I say I'm hungry and this place is really adorable but they don’t have what I want on the menu.”
“What are wewe in the mood for?” Emily asked. She didn’t know why but her mouth went dry when she asked that question.
“I'm not sure yet…I'm still thinking about it. Are wewe in the mood, Emily Prentiss, for an afternoon adventure?”
“If wewe keep talking with that accent I might be prepared to say yes to everything wewe ask.”
“I don’t know why it keeps slipping out.”
“Maybe it wants to get to know me better.” She replied.
“Let’s go grab some lunch. I’ll drive and we’ll swing back to pick up your car later. I mean…if wewe want to.”
“I do.”
“Check please.” Hotch held up his hand to get the server’s attention.
…Or Anything
“Is this kiti, kiti cha taken?”
Emily looked up from the crossword, a smile crossing her lips. She still wore surprise in her eyes but his hazel gaze never drifted from hers.
“What are wewe doing here?” she asked.
“Best variety of chai in the state.” BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner held up his large mug. “Is this kiti, kiti cha taken?”
“Um, no, it isn’t. Please sit.”
He did and right after came the awkward silence. Emily cleared her throat and pushed her paper to the side.
“No coffee this morning?” she asked for lack of anything else.
“Autumn is definitely chai time for me.” He replied.
“What kind did wewe get?”
“Blackberry pomegranate, and I have to tell wewe its pretty good. What are wewe having?”
“Kenyan roast with…”
“Light cream and enough sugar to kill a ng'ombe moose at fifty paces.” Hotch finished.
“Splenda.” Emily corrected.
“OK, enough Splenda to kill a ng'ombe moose. You're off sugar now?”
“Being hyper is for people in their 20s. In your thirties wewe have to get your kicks some other way.”
“Tackling Unsubs might be a good way.”
“Hotch, what are wewe doing here?” Emily asked again.
“I told you.” He took a deep breath and a sip of his tea.
“I come here a lot; I've never seen wewe before.”
“Actually I read about this place online. Coffee, Tea, au Anything…I thought the name was catchy. I've been here a few times but never stayed for the view.”
“What view?”
They were sitting out on the side deck with the perfect view of Old Town Alexandria, VA. It really was a city of walkers and on a Sunday late morning there was much to see. Most were just nyumbani from 10am services at local churches and the heathens were just coming out of dark apartments au sleepy residential neighborhoods.
“Oh c'mon, you're a profiler.” Hotch said. “You upendo to people watch. wewe see them walk kwa and imagine what conversations they are having on their cell phones au what they're saying to their companions.”
“Guilty as charged.” Emily grinned. “Sometimes I drag Nat down here to do it with me. We’re rather merciless. It makes my father laugh.”
Hotch didn’t doubt it. He would upendo to be a fly on the ukuta when the Prentiss women went at it. He was about to ask her something else but the thought was interrupted kwa her cell phone. It must have been her personal cell; it was a ring tone Hotch didn’t recognize. It sounded like heavy metal.
“Excuse me for a moment. Hello.”
“Emily, it’s your mother.”
“Hello Mother, how are you?”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“Actually…”
“Where are you, sweetheart?” Elizabeth asked.
“Boca Raton.” Emily replied.
“You couldn’t possibly be on vacation.”
“No, um, serial arsonist…targeting bars. It’s a tough case.”
“Oh well, I don’t want to disturb your work.” Elizabeth said.
“Are wewe alright?” Emily asked.
“Yes, I'm fine. We should talk when wewe come home; we can have dinner.”
“Sure. I don’t know how long I’ll be here. We just got in last night. Let me call wewe in a few days.”
“Alright, sweetheart. I don’t want to take wewe away from your work. I upendo you.”
“I upendo wewe too, Mother. Goodbye.”
Emily closed the phone and slipped it back into her jeans pocket. It wasn’t the lie that embarrassed her but that she did it in front of Hotch. Somewhere down deep she still suspected that he suspected that she was untrustworthy.
“Good work.” He said.
“I didn’t like doing that.”
“But wewe did it so well.”
“It’s always easier when she’s on the phone.” Emily replied. “She can read my eyes…I can never do it when we’re face to face.”
“The calmness of your voice, at first I wondered how could wewe possibly master that and then I remembered.”
“Remembered what?” Emily asked.
“You have a Masters degree in Communications. wewe can probably fool anyone.”
“I don’t like fooling people, as wewe say. I prefer honesty. It’s just that, well with Mother…”
“You surely don’t have to tell me.” Hotch couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh right, wewe have met her.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “But I was talking about my own mother. Of course I’m not half as good as wewe when it comes to maternal deception.”
“Why not?”
“My accent gives me away.”
“What? wewe don’t have an accent.” Emily said.
“Oh yes I do…and when mama is close, even kwa telephone, it comes right out of me like water.”
“Oh my God,” Emily covered her mouth. “Do that again.”
“It’s not as easy to turn on and off as wewe might think, Emily.” Hotch alisema in a southern lilt.
It wasn’t heavy like people she remembered hearing when she went to her mother’s hometown of Birmingham. She was going to ask Hotch how he used to sound like that but now sounded like this but knew her mother had changed her voice as well. She liked the way his sounded, sexy and dapper like a zaidi tolerant version of Will LaMontagne, Jr.
“Where are wewe from?”
“Virginia,” Hotch cleared his throat and came back with his normal voice. “Born and raised in Richmond. Well, I was born in Richmond, and then we moved to Manassas to be closer to my grandmother but moved back to Richmond when I started school and my father ran for State Senate.” Those two sentences were probably zaidi than Hotch had told anyone about himself in a long time. Usually revelations like that made him uncomfortable but not over chai with Emily Prentiss. He noticed lately that on cases he was giving little pieces of himself to victims and Unsubs alike but someone he’d known for two years didn’t even know where he was born. “So wewe see, when the accent slips out lying is impossible.”
“What’s your mother like?” Emily asked.
As if knowing she was out of coffee, the server came to the meza, jedwali and asked if Emily wanted a refill. She nodded. Hotch also wanted zaidi tea. The server alisema she would be back with everything they needed and the new brunch menu. Suddenly they were having brunch.
“My mother…she’s unpredictable.”
“You definitely didn’t pick up that trait. Oh wait, that came out wrong.”
“I don’t think it did.” Hotch replied.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Hotch.”
“Oh yes wewe did.” He grinned, letting his accent out again.
Emily didn't know why it made her giggle like a giddy teenage girl. He just sounded so sexy, not at all like her buttoned down Unit Chief. It made her think of steamy summer nights on a porch swing au even better a kitanda as a ceiling shabiki didn’t quite cool her off. It made her think of sweat sliding down her chest and sweet kisses as he caught the salty saline on his tongue. Jesus, could an accent give a woman an orgasm? It had been such a long time Emily wasn’t at all sure.
“As least you're from somewhere.” She said. “It’s not easy being from nowhere.”
“I always looked at it as wewe being from everywhere.” Hotch replied.
“I didn’t.”
He nodded understanding as the server came back. Drinks were refilled and they were aliyopewa menus.
“Are wewe hungry?” Hotch asked.
“I'm pretty much always hungry. I'm sure I can find room for something.”
“The website alisema they had the best pastries in the DC Metro area.”
“I was thinking about Belgian waffles, maybe chokoleti chip silver dollar pancakes. Ooh, Eggs Benedict might be nice. What's your inayopendelewa late night food?”
“I sleep at night.” Hotch replied.
“Since when? I hear wewe pacing hotel rooms all over the country.”
“OK, but I don’t often eat. I drink…God that probably doesn’t sound good.”
“It sounds accurate. We all drink, Hotch.”
“So what's your poison?” he asked.
“When I'm actually able to run a bath and cuddle with George, its wine. I upendo a good Pikes Clare Valley au chateau Ste. Michelle. The perfect blend of sweetness and dry goes great with a bowl of fruit. It helps me relax. Now if I just want to get plastered and act as if I never have to return to Quantico, I'm pulling out the SoCo for some Alabama Slammers. I think I’m going to have the waffles.”
“George?” Hotch asked.
“I'm sorry?”
“Who’s George?”
“My cat.” Emily replied.
“You have a cat?”
“Mmm,” she nodded. “He’s an Abyssinian, almost two years old. My mother actually bought him for me for my birthday. I was a little mortified at the time…I didn’t want to be the cat lady. I mean it was bad enough I was single, but a cat, oh God. Can we talk about something else?”
“You brought up George, I didn’t.” He said.
“You're right, it’s entirely my fault.”
“I didn’t say that. wewe didn’t hear me say that.”
“I hear a lot of things wewe don’t say.” Emily said.
“Cryptic much?”
“Takes one to know one.” She laughed. “OK, wewe know about George so tell me what's in your apartment.”
“A little reciprocity?” Hotch asked.
“If wewe say so.”
“I say I'm hungry and this place is really adorable but they don’t have what I want on the menu.”
“What are wewe in the mood for?” Emily asked. She didn’t know why but her mouth went dry when she asked that question.
“I'm not sure yet…I'm still thinking about it. Are wewe in the mood, Emily Prentiss, for an afternoon adventure?”
“If wewe keep talking with that accent I might be prepared to say yes to everything wewe ask.”
“I don’t know why it keeps slipping out.”
“Maybe it wants to get to know me better.” She replied.
“Let’s go grab some lunch. I’ll drive and we’ll swing back to pick up your car later. I mean…if wewe want to.”
“I do.”
“Check please.” Hotch held up his hand to get the server’s attention.