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Prometheus Chapter 14

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 14 - Hold Space

Tags: Swearing, panic attack, drinking, mentions of past sexual abuse and alcoholic parent. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 7.2k

AO3

The team landed back in D.C. early Sunday night and you all scattered back to the comforts of your own homes. It was an exhausting time in New Mexico, but the team was thankful for a positive outcome before the unsub, Gabriel Arellano, targeted another victim. Of course, JJ, Lewis, and Alvez were not tired enough to interrogate you all about chasing the unsub down for an arrest. They were riveted to your animated tale with Rossi chiming in about how he was quite alive and healthy despite Garcia’s concerns. Prentiss occasionally added in details when appropriate and without the chip on her shoulder she’s been carrying around for over a week. No one is entirely sure how things were patched up between the two of you, only Rossi sharing with the others that the talk you and Prentiss had at the crime scene went well.

No one knows just how well and the two of you are planning on keeping it that way. You both have people that care about you a lot that have pushed you in this direction, but taking this next step together would remain between the two of you until you were both comfortable informing the team, your brothers and sister, and Brian. Most importantly, you both wanted to see how this went without extra drama. The two of you were perfectly capable of doing that together without any help.

For now, Sunday night was enjoying a bottle of Stella as you pulled out ingredients to make dinner grabbing, salt, pepper, oil, butter, and some thyme to go with the steak you picked up at the Safeway Grocery store that was within walking distance. Once Prentiss approved of you being out in the field, you learned quickly to keep essentials at home and fill in perishable items as needed or pack them in the freezer.

Everything was neatly lined up on the counter with the ribeye resting in the package while you were trimming the green beans with the chef’s knife. You set it aside to use your hand to sweep the ends into the other when a chime went off on your phone.

You dump the remains into the compost bin, wash your hands and dry them off with the kitchen towel you throw over your shoulder and see who it is.

Overlord sent 2034: You free Friday night after work?

You laugh, realizing you’re going to have to change Emily’s name again. For now, you keep it because it’s too funny to see her name like this.

Whitlock sent 2036: I guess it depends if the bad guys do not make plans for me?

Whitlock sent 2036: And if my boss isn’t going to be a bitch again.

Whitlock sent 2036: 😉

Overlord sent 2036: I said I was sorry!

Overlord sent 2039: Oh. You were joking.

Whitlock sent 2041: I suppose my brilliance does not translate well over text for you yet. Your profiling skills are limited now. Oh darn. 🤔

Overlord sent 2042: You’re a lot more confident over text then you were in NM. Memory serves, you could barely look at me.

“Ugh,” you half groan and laugh at that before leaning against the counter. She had you there. Text was easier to be silly and flirty since you didn’t have to stare into intense brown orbs that radiate confidence that actually made you feel giddy - not pretend play with a mark who looked similarly at you.

That made you look up curiously at admitting that to yourself.

You didn’t have to pretend.

You acknowledge Prentiss was attractive early on with her natural silver-grey hair and facial lines that held emotional history as much as linear. She cut a gorgeous figure in her work clothes and she’s a handful of people that weren’t placating you that she understood where you were coming from. Because she did, to an extent, and would know where to end it and be empathetic. It was naturally easy for you to be open with her because she was a CIA spy, your current role until you joined the BAU. The gritty reality of what that means instead of the glorified action and adventure movies and shows make it out to be, or even the ones that try to emulate the truth still never nail it down. You really have to be staring at life and death at all times while being in character or you’re dead. All of characters you play at forces you to kill a part of yourself and hide it.

But there were also the parts that weren’t so grim that made you adore her. You always loved how Emily’s face lit up when she laughed and how her nose scrunched when she was cheeky. Or how she licks her lips in thought, a seemingly subconscious habit that didn’t have a pattern that you noticed. And yes, you tried figuring it out. You only surmised it wasn’t due to dry lips because Emily’s lips never looked that way. And yes, you looked at her lips a lot and wondered what it would feel like to kiss them.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a chime, and you look down at your phone.

Overlord sent 2048: Did I scare you off already? 😉

You brightly grin reading that. This was the Emily that you slowly allowed into your life and its numerous secrets that you barely scratched the surface with her. Your mind starts wandering down a scary road of what ifs again, but you swallow down your fears for now. You can worry about logistics after figuring out if you and Emily actually worked.

Whitlock sent 2050: Nope.

Overlord sent 2050: All I get is a nope?

Whitlock sent 2051: Yep! Hah.

Overlord sent 2051: Ha ha. Then how about an answer to my question. You like avoiding them.

Whitlock sent 2054: Yes, I’m free Friday. Unless Brian calls me for something. Which is not likely.

Whitlock sent 2054: And this is a for real CIA call in and not made up before you say ANYTHING

Overlord sent 2055: Wouldn’t dream of it. See you tomorrow?

This baffles you because of course you’re seeing her tomorrow. Why would Emily say something so pedestrian?

Then you smack your forehead. “Fucking idiot,” you mutter to yourself. She was ending the communication politely because it was getting late.

Whitlock sent 2057: You know it. Now off to my date with a steak.

You look at your text and decide to add a little more, realizing you didn’t want to end the conversation so soon.

Whitlock sent 2058: What’s for dinner on your end?

And then your phone rings. It’s Overlord’s name staring back at you. You pick it up and answer perplexedly. “Uh … hi?”

“Hello to you, too. And to answer your questions.”

Your eyes narrow because you only had one question, not multiple to warrant a plural.

“Based on the menus currently on my table, Chinese or pizza. And I called because I felt it was not only quicker to talk this way, I wanted to hear your voice instead.”

If you could melt, you’d be a puddle on the floor with how sweet that is. “Maybe your profiling skills are better over text than I thought.”

“Hm. And why’s that?” she asks with her voice dropping an octave lower, making your shiver.

“Uh … cuz I kinda didn’t want our conversation to end just yet,” you admit with such ease that surprises you.

“Mm. Me too. I just wanted to be polite since it’s late after a long case.”

You can hear her smiling into the phone as her voice goes back to its usual cadence. And fuck it all, you’re smiling like a fool too knowing you both felt the same. “Yeah?”

That’s all you have to say because you are dumbstruck with her honesty. You hear her chuckle softly and say your name. “Yes.”

“Well, to be fair. You need to eat and take out’s gonna be at least an hour if you don’t get on that soon. I don’t want you starving.” You pull the phone back and put her on speaker to free up your hands to work on dinner. You grab the green beans you trimmed and bring them over to the sink where the strainer is waiting for them. You turn on the water and start rinsing. Normally you’d soak them overnight, but you weren’t waking your ass up that early to cook. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“What’re you doing?” she asks and then a sense of concern bubbles forth that you can’t control.

“Wait. Are you at the office?” you say, partly accusing.

“No. I’m actually home.”

“I’m glad to hear that despite Armageddon coming.”

“Funny.” Her tone is sarcastic and amused. “But what’re you doing? I hear the water going.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve deduced you’re on speaker.”

“Indeed.”

“Kinda need both hands to cook.”

“Wait. You’re cooking?” she can’t hide her shock, and it makes you frown.

“Why is that so surprising?” you ask, taking the green beans from the strainer to the pan waiting for them. It wasn’t hot yet, unlike the steak pan that you wanted smoking hot.

“Well, I suppose it isn’t. I just didn’t know you can cook.”

You hum thoughtfully and take the ribeye out of the wrappings and place it on the cutting board to trim. It was a lot for one person, but you were making a few meals out of this for work, too. “We don’t know a lot about each other yet so everything's going to be new, and maybe a surprise because of preconceived notions. For instance, can you cook?”

She laughs. “A little ... well, no. Not really. I know some basics and a couple of dishes Dave’s taught me. But left to my own devices? I’ll just burn everything.”

You chuckle. “And now I know why you live on takeout.”

“Unfortunately.” She pauses there as you set aside your knife once satisfied with how the steak looks. You then season with salt and pepper and flip the steak over with a soft thunk to generously prepare the other side, too. The silence was quite comfortable, and you imagine that Emily was picturing what you were doing based on sounds alone.

“Well, maybe if things go well, I can not only feed you properly, but I can also teach you how to cook,” you say offhandedly.

“Or you could feed me properly now.”

Emily boldness stops you in mid salting. “Uh …”

You can hear how smug she is at making you lose your words. “It’s merely a suggestion, honey.”

Now your eyes widen with the pet name that had only been used playfully as co-workers. This was definitely an escalation of its use here as Emily’s voice held a soft purr at the end of the word. Would this be a good idea right now to entertain Emily at your apartment, or should you both wait for a proper date? Though was anything about your life proper? That is a resounding no. Your life became a fucked up story since your dad first put his hands on you and your mother ignored it all with booze.

Fuck it. You return back to seasoning the steak and go digging for more information. “And why are you offering said suggestion besides you being hungry.”

“Truthfully?”

“The only kind I like right now when it comes to us,” you declare with raw honesty.

“Well, we can wait until Friday if you’re more comfortable with that, but I’d like to try and spend more quality time with you to make up for all the bullshit that I put you through this past week. I can’t change what I did, but if you’re open for it, I’d just really like to see you again that isn’t involving work.”

Warmth spreads through your heart and you can’t stop your mouth from answering positively. “Then come over.”

You surmise it takes Emily by surprise how quickly you agree as she has to take a few seconds to respond. Her voice is tentative. “Are you sure?”

You lean over the counter and nod to yourself, physically making sure you truly are okay with this. “I am. I’ve got enough food for two, and then some. Just won’t have as much leftovers for work now, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for you.”

She chuckles. “Only if you’re sure …”

You smile. “I am.”

“Then I’ll be over shortly. Say twenty minutes?”

You open your eyes and remember how close Emily lives to you. “Uh …” You wince, utterly annoyed that this woman can render you stupid with an inability to speak properly.

“Is that too soon?” she asks cautiously. Perhaps Emily was reconsidering based on your reaction.

“No!” You slam your eyes shut with how desperate you sound. “I mean. That’s fine. Dinner should be ready then.”

“Are you sure this okay with you? If it isn’t, I’m fine with delaying this until the weekend.”

Emily is very thoughtful and the affection that you have for her overtakes the nervousness you feel. “Yes, it is. Really. Just, can we … uh … just, ya know? Keep this chill? Don’t go crazy with it being a date. Though I guess it kinda is. I mean, maybe a … pre-date.”

What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?

“I’ll come as is.”

Thankfully Emily doesn’t think anything is wrong with you. “Well, don’t come barefoot. You need shoes or something.”

She chuckles. “See you soon.”

After you hang up with Emily, you focus on making dinner. You’ve done this dish countless times, but this is the first time making it for someone you want to impress, not needing to. You cover the beans and set it to simmer and put the steak in the over to finish off before setting the table. You keep it simple and set it like you would eat but for two with the added salt and pepper shakers in case Emily needs them. You do opt for wine glasses and wait for her to arrive so she can pick out what you have on hand, which is limited since you weren’t the big wine drinker like Emily.

And then you realize you should have asked Emily to bring a bottle she liked. “Dumbass,” you mutter, while staring down at the square table set for two just as there was a knock at the door.

Your head snaps up in that direction and you close your eyes to take a deep breath. When you open your eyes, you take one last look at yourself, still wearing your CIA shirt, black sweats and bare feet. You wiggle your toes nervously and consider putting on socks, but you asked Emily to come casual and you should, too.

Walking to the door, you’re telling yourself not to be nervous and when you confirm through the peephole that it’s Emily, that plan goes out the window. She completed the assignment as coming as is and ended up way over dressed than you since she was still in her work clothes. They were wrinkled from wear, so there’s that, and she had her hair pulled back in a messy bun with a few strands left flowing around her face. You smile and laugh wordlessly seeing that she wore a pair of sneakers and carries a bottle of wine.

Knowing you can work with this; your nerves calm some as you open the door. “Right on time,” you announce with a smile that she immediately matches.

Her eyes absorb every detail of yours and you feel naked under her penetrating gaze. With a small purse of her lips, she holds up a bottle of cabernet. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Actually, I was feeling really dumb for not telling you to bring something,” you admit while stepping aside. “Come on in.” When you close the door, you point to the kitchen counter. “You can put it there.”

“It smells amazing in here,” Emily says while scanning the kitchen for the source of the delicious smells. She does see a covered pan on the stove and a breadbasket next to the bottle she set down. She could feel the warmth coming from the sliced-up baguette and smiles at the added touch.

“Let me get your coat.” You approach Emily from behind and take the long black coat by the collar as she adjusts her arms to assist you.

“Thanks.” She tucks her hands into pants pockets and watches you hang up her coat in the hallway closet. You’re hiding it well, but she can tell you’re nervous by how thoughtfully precise you were in smoothing out her coat and making extra space for it when you hung it up. You purposefully left gaps on either side of it so nothing would touch it.

“Want me to pour the wine?” She’s hoping the light conversation will make this more familiar and comfortable.

“Uh, sure. Corkscrew’s in the drawer on the right next to the sink.”

She works taking off the foil as you come padding back into the kitchen like you owned it. Your moves were comfortable, dare say adept, at opening the oven and taking out the pan that was heating in there with a plain oven mitt. She couldn’t help an adoring smile that graces her lips as you kick the oven close with a bare foot.

You’re ignorant of Emily’s gaze but hear her rummaging through the drawer for the corkscrew as you test the steak. You nod, liking the feel for a medium rare, toss the kitchen towel over your shoulder and let it rest. Your focus was putting the green beans in a serving bowl you have never used but this is the first time entertaining someone at this location.

When you turn around, Emily’s pouring the wine, and you take that moment for a silent breath. You grab the breadbasket along the way to the table. You didn’t get a good look at the bottle, but it looks fancy. “What did you bring?”

“A Chateau Palmer Bordeaux.” She rattles it off so casually like the bottle doesn’t go for several hundred dollars.

“There was a memo about keeping this chill.”

“And why isn’t this chill?” There is confusion in her voice as Emily sets the bottle down. “This goes well with steak.”

Your fingers rub at your forehead, eyes squinting in bewilderment. “Because that company only makes bottles that are the cheapest at a hundred bucks.”

Her eyebrows raise with puzzlement. “And?”

“That’s way too much on a chill dinner …” You bring your hand down and gesture wildly at the space between the two of you. “…thing. This dinner thing we’re having.”

With a silent oh, she approaches you and takes your hands in hers. Her thumbs press firmly against the top of your hands and start to rub circles once you don’t back away from the closeness. “I wanted to bring it. Consider it a gift since you’re gifting me with an actual home cooked meal.”

She tests the waters further and takes a step forward, causing your joined hands to rise upwards between the two of you. You bring your eyes up and gaze into serene ones. Emily’s posture was calm and inviting, her lips parting in a slight smile. There was nothing for you to fear and you feel your body lose some of its tension and squeeze her hands back. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

Her voice is soft and gently wants to confirm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod and her eyes sparkle with affection.

“Good.” Emily takes it a step further and leans forward to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. Your body experiences warmth throughout from the gentle display that felt natural between the two of you. You feel the brush of her nose graze along your cheek for just a moment before she was back searching your eyes for any discomfort. Seeing none, she coyly drops her head towards the table. “Shall we eat then?”

You eagerly nod. “Yeah. Take a seat and I’ll be right there.”

The two of you share a smile and a lingering touch of fingers taking their time to unwind from one another so you could get back to the kitchen. With renewed purpose, you take the butter near the stove that you placed there to help soften it up and put it on the island counter so it wouldn’t start to melt. Then you focus on slicing the meat and grin proudly that the juices remain intact from resting. You slide the knife under the strips to plate and bring everything over to Emily, who was sitting and enjoying a sip of the wine.

Her eyes light up, impressed with your skills, and compliments. “Are you sure I’m not at a Michelin Star restaurant? This looks steak house quality.”

You blush as you put everything down on the table. “Thanks. I got bored a lot on assignments. And when I could,” you then take the seat across from Emily and shrug, “I learned how to cook.”

“A worthwhile skill to master.” She eagerly brings her hands up but then slowly curls them closed. “Ah …”

Her eyes are questioning, and you chuckle, making your nervously bouncing leg stop so you can gesture over the food. “Please!’

As Emily fills her plate, you follow soon after, until you have both forks and steak knives ready in hand. You wait on digging in as you want to see Emily’s response to your cooking firsthand and closely observe her cutting off a piece of steak and begin to bring it to her mouth.

You’re feeling confident and wanting to tease her, so you bring up your steak knife and point it at her with an impish grin and teasing eyes before she could get the morsel into her mouth. “You dare ask for steak sauce; I’m kicking you outta here.”

Her mouth clamps shut before nodding once quickly. “Noted.”

You observed one another – Emily noticing how your lips were trying to remain even, though the edges were twitching in anticipation, and you seeing how delighted she was by this with the softest hint of her eyes narrowing. And damn it, you couldn’t help slowly leaning over the table in time with her fork.

Her eyes widened with approval as the first taste of flavor hits her senses. “Oh my god” She blinks several times in awe while moaning appreciatively. “This is so fucking good.”

You are overwhelmingly happy by Emily’s response and your face lights up with a radiant smile. Did you ever feel genuinely happy like this in your life? You’re having trouble matching this emotion to anything else that was considered good in your experience but come up short. To add to the moment, Emily winks at you and adds. “Putting steak sauce on this would be an atrocity. So, I guess I can stay, huh?”

You look away and lightly rub your tongue behind your lower lip modestly. When you look up, Emily was still enjoying the first bite and cutting the next while looking at you coyly. “Yeah,” you chuckle. “I guess you can stay.”

The two of you share a warm smile and as you start cutting your steak, you begin to realize that this wasn’t so difficult. It was just like sharing a meal in Emily’s office, the two of you being playful and chatting it up as usual, minus the pretense that the two of you actually felt something more heightened than friendship.

You’re starving from a long flight and barely eaten anything besides jet food and an apple that you munched on while walking home from the store. With the gusto that Emily is attacking her plate, you figure she was equally as hungry. The first strips of steak and handful of beans disappeared without a word spoken and finally Emily considers you while sipping her wine. The hairs on the back of your neck rise with dread.

The time for small talk during a date has arrived.

In your panic, you remind yourself that this is just you and Emily talking. You’ve done this many a time before. Be cool.

Emily swirls the wine in her glass as she regards you. “Is it possible to revisit a question I once had but you couldn’t answer?”

“Uh, which one? You got quite a few of those,” you laugh, that simple act helping your body to relax against the chair with bread in hand.

You take a bite of it when Emily chuckles too. “Well, I was thinking since I’m sitting here with you now when few know where you are … if you can now tell me how you joined the CIA?” She asked her question quite thoughtfully by how slowly she asked it. This had been a source of contention between you and Emily wanted to avoid yet another misunderstanding.

“Hm.” Your brows furrow as you finish chewing your food. Can you? Should you? Will you even be able to verbalize all the shit you’ve been through without scaring her off?

Charlie said Emily wouldn’t be so easily frightened but there’s no way of knowing how she’d react. Not until you take that dive. Take that chance.

“Hm is more of an answer than I got last time,” Emily teases gently.

That makes you laugh. “True. It’s more logistics now. You do have some sense of clearance now. How much tho?”

Her brows raise up in wonder. “I’m not entirely sure. It was only on a verbal okay versus anything on paper.”

“Ah. Fair enough.” You sit up to angle your hand into your pocket to pull out your phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Texting Brian.”

“… for?” She’s on alert and sets her glass down.

Whitlock sent 2147: Hey, how much clearance did you give Emily?

You place the phone down on the table face up. ”To see how much I can tell ya.”

“Oh, shit. That’s unnecessary, really.” She taps a fingernail on the side of the wine glass. “You’re under no obligation to share. I’m sure Korogoth’s got better things to do anyway.”

Your phone buzzes but you don’t look at it yet. You’re focusing on Emily. “You’ll see that Brian makes time for me or as soon as he can if he’s busy. But really, Emily?” You wait it out until she looks at you and you give her a promising smile with the next words you declare to her. “I also want to tell you.”

You hear her softly gasp as you pick up the phone to read Brian’s message.

Dad sent 2150: Oh, it’s Emily now?

You roll your eyes as you respond back, which piques Emily’s curiosity. “What did he say?’

Whitlock sent 2155: You going to answer the question or not?

“Nothing. Just being an ass,” you grunt in response.

She shakes her head, tongue in cheek. “Wow. Never thought I’d be around someone who casually calls the director of the CIA an ass.”

Your mischievous eyes catch mirthful brown ones. “Be around me long enough and you’ll be hearing a lot more colorful adjectives describing him.”

Emily throws her head back with laughter and it makes your heart sing with joy. Then you scowl at seeing the message from Brian.

Dad sent 2156: What’s her question.

Whitlock sent 2156: How I joined the CIA.

Emily silently studies your face as she sips. She can tell you are taking this very seriously with your focus being on the conversation you’re having with Korogoth.

Dad sent 2158: She doesn’t need to know.

Fuck, that’s the usual answer given but he won’t be expecting your next response.

Whitlock sent 2159: I want her to know.

You stare at the screen for a minute, but nothing comes. Your teeth clench together in disappointment at the lack of response and pick up your fork. Sensing the answer to her own question, Emily offers a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright. There’s other things we can talk about.”

But your phone goes off again and you use your left hand to get the message. Emily takes the moment to pick up a green bean by hand to nibble on.

Dad sent 2204: And now I know why she is Emily now. Go for it.

“Huh.” You can’t help but slip out your surprise.

“Is everything okay?” Emily tentatively asks while rolling another green bean in hand.

“Uh, yeah.”

Whitlock sent 2205: Thanks Brian. Really.

“Said I could talk to you about it.” You take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation. It’s one you haven’t had to speak of in a couple decades.

Dad sent 2205: Stop talking to me and go talk to her! I want no more communication from you until then!

“Oh my god!” You start giggling and without thinking, show Emily the last text from Brian. “I think he approves.”

“What?” She squints to read it and then blanches. “You … you didn’t tell him we were seeing each other, did you?”

“No!” You’re still laughing. “He figured it out just now.”

“And you have him in as dad?!” She can’t hide the astonishment from her voice as she points to the contact name.

Do you, or don’t you reveal another special name?

You nod, because you do, though Emily took the nod as a reaction to her own response at you calling the CIA director dad in your phone.

You waggle your brows. “Wanna see my favorite contact name?”

She shrewdly assesses your roguish grin and eyes that sparkle with a hidden agenda. “I’m gonna regret this aren’t I?”

You bring the phone back and close the text with Brian and bring up Emily’s details. “Maybe. But to be fair, I do need to update it again.”

Emily cants her head to the side with concern. “Again?”

“Yeah. I had to change it back to this,” you hold the phone up facing her once again and right there in bold letters shows the name Overlord Prentiss, “but you know, my boss was kinda being a dick to me.”

Emily humbles with soft, widening eyes, and a long face as she digests this information. “Um …” Her head dips forward as if she swallowed something bad and licks her lips. “… how long have you had this nickname for me?”

“After the first frosty encounter.”

“So, day one.”

“Yep.” You bring the phone back to edit her name. “After drinks at Buddy’s, I did change it.”

Emily opens her mouth with understanding. “Then the fight after Hayden happened.”

“Aye.” You show her the updated name with a smile. “Better?”

It now said Silver Fox.

Her eyes narrow with approval, a slight smirk starting to form as she catches your gaze and when she speaks, her voice drops lower and becomes slightly raspy. “Well, I certainly like that one better. A lot better …”

Your cheeks flush, cursing your body’s response, but soon you’re craning your neck to see why Prentiss was taking out her phone. She only offers a flirtatious smirk as she scrolls and types out something before presenting the screen to you.

Your name has become Hot Rod in her contacts, and you immediately laugh with delight. “Oh my god, I love it!”

And you truly do as the shyness that had overtaken you is replaced with that familiar affection that had been growing for some time. Your eyes soften and you start to reach over the table to take her hand without thinking but force it to stop as this was all new to you. Are you supposed to do this when you have true feelings for someone and not seducing someone to your will? What is normal in these situations?

Emily sees your hesitation and closes the distance with her free hand and immediately your fingers lace together. Her flirtatious demeanor has tempered into a shared moment of understanding that this was more than a casual dinner after all. It had become another apology from Emily and confirmation that the feelings you have burgeoning between the two of you are more than just physical.

Your heart races as you see Emily’s brown eyes grow intensely warm with soft brows arching upwards. You squeeze her hand, clinging to the moment and then your phone goes off again. You feel your eyes brimming with wetness from the emotions that were foreign to the chemical makeup inside your brain.

You force a swallow, and your mouth opens with an apology. “Sorry. I … uh, I need, to uh, need to get that.”

Emily holds onto your hand. “Can’t it wait?”

She was distracted by the intimacy that it didn’t register that the notification was from a different phone. You shake your head sadly. “It’s the burner phone.”

“Fucking Sicarius.” She hisses and reluctantly releases your hand before smoothing out her features in order to focus.

You rise with purpose and are all business as you approach the living room table to pick up the burner phone. It’s the number you gave Sicarius to contact you. If he tried to run a search on the number, he would learn nothing except you cover your tracks like he does. You unlock the phone and read the message.

+18042876389 sent 2241: Tomorrow 12pm EST

“We’re on for tomorrow at noon.” You explain and type a simple response back.

+18318269346 sent 2245: Confirmed

“I’m letting Garcia know.” You look up and see Emily on her phone and note the warmth of her voice had become clipped and informal.

“Should we have the whole team present?”

She looks up thoughtfully. “Are you comfortable with the audience?”

“Doesn’t bother me in the least,” you answer truthfully. You had far bigger groups witnessing you pretend play on a call. “Garcia’s gonna run the call so everyone hears, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then more profiling ears the better.” You look down at the phone and know there will be no further communication tonight, so you lock it down and place it back on the table.

Agreeing with your assessment, Emily brings up her calendar and schedules a meeting first thing in the morning with the entire team to brief everyone on this project you, her, and Penelope have been working on. She attaches a file that goes over the synopsis of this undercover operation, including the backstory that was created for you. Garcia has already responded back that she’ll have everything ready for the 12pm call and for the briefing.

You slide back onto the chair at the dinner table and notice you have a notification of a new event at work. You look up at Emily, who was still busy organizing the logistics of what that simple text meant for the BAU. It was a tremendous lead. It also meant you were now in serious danger if things went sideways like it did for Green. But unlike him, you were driven by the mission, not a vendetta. You know how to remain cautious like with any shift into undercover work and will remain true to character. It got you this far in life and in your career. Now it would assist the BAU in apprehending a serial killer.

“Decided it should be a viewing party for the whole crew?” You mention casually while grabbing another piece of bread.

She hums in agreement. “Makes sense having everyone there.” Emily sets her phone down with a sigh before running the palms of her hands over her face, the loose strands of her bun following with her. She was visibly irritated by how the mood was interrupted, not necessarily that it was.

“Sucks.” Your voice is gruff as you speak which makes Emily look over at you with confusion. “First date ever and a fucking psycho had to ruin it.” You end it with a humorless smirk.

She ended up laughing which parted the gloomy cloud that had overtaken the mood. “Gotta love the timing of these things in our line of work.” She sighs in resignation over at you. “It’s close to midnight and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”

In other words, Emily was politely excusing herself for home.

“Counter point to what you’re gonna say.” Your body is taking over your mouth despite your mind telling you to shut the fuck up, but Emily doesn’t dispute what you mean and gazes at you inquisitively as the silent invitation to continue this proposal. “Well,” you start and then jut your jaw out nervously. “You could just stay …”

Your uncertainty makes her eyes widen. “Stay?”

“Yeah. Cuz uh, you, uh, don’t live far and if you stay, we can kinda pick up talking and stuff.” You visibly wince. God you suck at this. How did you do this convincingly with marks?

“Stuff?” Emily teases with a brow smoothing out as the other turns coy.

And now your cheeks are burning with the nebulous definition of stuff. Your words come quickly, riddled with anxiety. “You know.”

She shakes her head no with that smug flirtatious smirk never leaving Emily’s face.

“You, you brought the wine. Expensive wine that we, uh, you know, didn’t drink much of. And I’m willing to bet Brian gave you a parking pass so you didn’t have to drive around all over the fucking place to find one.”

Now Emily was holding her head up by the chin with a resting elbow, finding your ramblings attractively adorable. “Indeed, he did.”

“So, yeah.” You hand finds purchase on the wine stem, so you have something to hold onto as a way to ground your thoughts. It really doesn’t help. “You live close. Can just go back to your place in the morning to change. Since, driving after that much wine isn’t a good idea.”

She shakes her head in agreement. “No, it is not.”

“But … to be … clear.” Your eyes catch her playful ones but yours reflect a hint of fear. “Guest room for now. I mean, it’s just our first time doing this and I haven’t done this ...ever. And I’m starting to wonder what the ever-loving fuck I’m doing and why aren’t you fucking saying anything because I’m rambling …. Which is why you’re not saying anything. Fuck.”

Your breathing is quick and shallow and now you’re on the verge of a full-on panic attack. The grip on the wine glass becomes forceful and you wonder if it’ll snap because you probably just ruined whatever was happening between the two of you. Why did you listen to fucking Charlie?

However, it is not with pity or ridicule or even disgust that Emily looks at you.

It was sympathy and care. Emily wasn’t judging you at all and she surprises you further when she rises and comes to your side of the table with an open hand. She gestures for you to take it, not forcing anything and simply gazes down at you and gently speaks. “Come here.”

You look dubiously from Emily’s face to her hand and then back up again, not moving from your spot. Emily’s smile is tender as she tries again. “Please.”

Well fuck it. How can you say no to that. Well, you can and if you did, you just know Emily would respect that, but the part of you craving the simplest of intimacies with her that only blossomed from the chaste kiss against your cheek, wanted to reach out and take a chance. It was why you said yes to going out with her after stopping Emily from running off with the misinterpretation of your words. You have a feeling Emily was beginning to understand how difficult this was for you to be clear with intent. So now, she offers a chance to calm your spiraling thoughts.

You take her hand, and with it, you place trust in this woman not to hurt you. Because you know that this meant you were all in if she was, which is why you desperately need to talk. Why you want Emily to stay because if she leaves now, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to talk about the simplest, yet complicated, manner in how you joined the CIA.

Sensing you weren’t going to move; Emily gently tugs your hand to motivate you into standing up. You were expecting Emily to say something at first, but you are surprised that she pulls you into a hug instead. You are stiff, unaccustomed to this level of intimacy in a long time that was not initiated by you. Her free hand slips around your waist as she steps into your personal space while letting go of your hand so she can slide her fingers along your shoulder and then neck. In the next breath that was taken by you, you’re fully pressed against one another and Emily’s cheek glides against your own as she leans in further.

Your eyes are blinking back tears, your body overwhelmed with connection that you honestly can’t remember the last time you had it felt this visceral. You begin trembling and Emily reassures you with a gentle promise. “I’ve got you.”

Immediately your hands curl under Emily’s arms and fiercely grip her shoulders while burying your face against the crook of her neck. You inhale the lingering scent of cigarettes and citrus. You couldn’t distinguish if it was the perfume or hair products she wore, but it was a heady sensation that made you grip Emily tighter for continued comfort. Her nails gently scratch at the back of your neck and graze upwards, tangling into your hair. You have no idea how long you held each other, and it was no surprise that Emily stirred first. Her nose nuzzles into your hair before her lips replace it. The pattern continues – nuzzles and soft kisses that coax you from your hiding spot against her neck until your eyes met.

Your chest clenches under Emily’s warm gaze, her dilating eyes searching yours intently. Whatever she was looking for must have been confirmed because she was soon closing the distance between you further, allowing enough time for you to pull away if you were unsure. But you didn’t pull away. No. You wait until you felt the brush of Emily’s soft lips against your own before closing your eyes. You felt unmoored from reality but what was different than all the other times you found yourself in this unwanted position with others, is that your mind didn’t dissociate on instinct to protect itself. You stay in the moment, tasting the wine on her lips and how they’re firm against yours, not forceful, and feel a gentle sigh escaping Emily’s nose as the air brushes against your face.

This was your first real kiss, and it was perfection.

You respond just as gently and after a moment, Emily pulls back leaving the kiss soft and brief but not letting you go just yet. She brings your forehead to hers, keeping you both connected, and you know her eyes are closed just like yours, not ready to relinquish the intimacy.

“I’d love to stay. Like you asked.” She acknowledges not only your wish but your boundaries as well.

“Yeah?” you ask again but it was with breathless excitement.

You can feel her smiling by how her forehead pinches against yours. “Yeah.”

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