My effort to shake off the rust after months without writing. My mind started wondering where Mark factored in to Emily's return to the BAU, and wouldn't let it go until I wrote something.

"For time is the longest distance between two places." -Tennessee Williams, The Glass Managerie

Lying on the couch with a blanket covering her, and a glass of her favourite wine held in her hand, Emily Prentiss was the epitome of comfortable, but far from content. The phone call she had received earlier had thrown her for a loop, and it had immediately become all she could think about.

"Hello?"

"Hey Emily, it's Hotch."

"Hey, Hotch. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. Do you have a couple of minutes to talk?"

"Sure, yeah," Emily replied with a nod, glancing at the slew of meetings scheduled to kick off in a few minutes. "What's up?"

"I wanted to keep you up to date on a couple of things," he began, his tone neutral and even – just as she remembered it always being.

"Okay…" she said slowly, knowing immediately that he wasn't calling just to chat and catch up. It wasn't surprising that it was a business call though – while she kept touch with her former team, most of the communication she had with Hotch was through email. When he called, it was because of something more serious.

"I assume JJ and Garcia have kept you up to date on the escaped serial killers?"

"Mostly, yes," she said with a nod as she waved off her assistant who had poked his head into her office, no doubt to remind her of her meetings.

"Good. So you know the team is pursuing leads on them in addition to handling a full case load."

Emily frowned as she tried to put together where he was going with this. He was telling her things that she already knew, and that he no doubt knew that she was well aware of. "Yeah – I don't envy you guys that. Let me know if I can help somehow, by the way."

"That's why I'm calling, actually."

"What do you need?"

"What's the likelihood of you being able to swing some temporary duty here in the states?"

Her frown deepened at his question. "I have no idea," she answered honestly. "I'd have to float it with Easter and see if everything would be okay on this end. Why? You guys need an extra hand? I thought JJ mentioned a new guy joining the team…"

"Yes, but the Director asked me to do some temporary duty of my own, so I'm going to be away from the BAU for a while."

"Temporary duty? Doing what?"

"Honestly? I have no idea yet; it's some kind of special assignment. But I want to make sure the BAU has some stability while I'm gone."

It took Emily a moment to understand what he was getting at. Morgan had been the natural leader to step in while Hotch wasn't around, but with him now gone the team didn't have much leadership experience. Sure, Rossi had been around the block and would step up if needed, and JJ could definitely rise to the occasion if needed…but she also understood Hotch's concern. Being the leader of a team was very different from being on a team.

"I'll make the call this afternoon, but I think I can make it happen."

"Good," Hotch said, a trace of relief in his voice. "I know Dave will help out, but he absolutely detests the paperwork aspect of the job and I'm worried that he'll just ignore it."

Emily chuckled as memories of Rossi brushing off reports and deadlines came to mind. "So you're bringing me over there to do your paperwork? Gee, thanks, Hotch. And here I thought you were complimenting my leadership skills," she teased.

A smile spread on Hotch's face at her words. "Two birds, one stone…" he replied.

Emily felt her grin widen – had Hotch just cracked a joke? "I'll let you know once I have an idea of whether or not I can come over. If I can make it happen, I'll probably have to wrap up a few things here before I can leave though. How soon do you leave?"

"Next week."

"Shit."

"Yeah, I know. But, if the Director asks, you don't really say no…"

"No, yeah, of course. Okay. I'll try to expedite things on this end."

"Thanks, Emily. I really appreciate it."

"Of course, Hotch. I do actually have to go though; I have a couple hours' worth of meetings to look forward to this afternoon."

"Sorry to keep you."

"No, no, it's no trouble. Believe me, I'd rather stay on the phone with you than deal with these whiny politicians."

"Oh, politics. Your favourite. Best of luck with that."

"I'm going to need it," she replied gloomily. "Talk to you later, Hotch."

"Yeah. Thanks again."

"No problem."

"Oh, and Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"I have complete confidence in your ability to help lead this team."

Emily smiled at the endorsement from her former boss. It certainly meant a lot coming from him. "Thanks, Hotch. Take care."

She'd immediately instructed her assistant to get Clyde Easter on the phone, and to pull her out of whatever meeting she was in to take the call. A mere 90 minutes later, Emily had approval to be temporarily assigned in D.C.. She would have to continue to oversee some things remotely, and would be responsible for checking in with the Washington INTERPOL office, but she could help out the BAU.

A small part of her had believed that red tape and politics were going to get in the way and prevent her from heading to the States. She was happy that she could go and help, but she'd also realized that in the whirlwind of it all she'd forgotten a significant factor. Mark.

Emily was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be angry, but she couldn't say for certain exactly what his reaction would be. They'd been dating for a while, and were in a pretty good place in their relationship…but throwing an ocean between them for an indefinite amount of time was sure to complicate things at the very least.

She took a large drink of her wine and burrowed further under the blanket as her mind continued to mull over what she was going to say to him. She didn't want to end things – that much she knew. Even if she were to be permanently transferred, Emily wasn't willing to give up what she had with Mark. They were happy.

She smiled as she thought of the path their relationship had taken. It wasn't love at first sight. She had been stubborn, and he had been persistent. They'd fumbled their way initially through getting to know each other, but it hadn't taken long for Emily to feel comfortable sharing things with him. She'd talked about her childhood, moving from country to country and always being the new kid in class. He'd told her about living through his mother's battles with cancer, and seeing her come out on the other side a changed woman. She described what it was like learning how to shoot a gun, and he told her of the grueling days climbing ladders and dragging dummies in full gear. She talked about the cases that stuck with her, and he told her about the people he couldn't save.

Emily still couldn't understand how she'd found any time to fall in love with him, given the long hours and demanding on-call nature of her job, not to mention his job's odd schedule. But fall in love with him she had, and now she was dreading telling him she wanted to move an ocean away.

Emily heard the door unlock, turned her head to watch him enter their loft, and smiled as his gaze found hers.

"Hey you," he said, dropping his bag and leaning over the back of the couch to give her a quick kiss.

"Hi," she said softly, pulling him back down by his shirt for another kiss.

"You survived your meetings marathon, I see," he said as he came around to the front of the couch, motioning for her to move her legs so he could sit down beside her. She acquiesced to his request and let him sit down next to her, her legs draped over his lap. He immediately reached for one of her feet and began to massage it.

"Mmm," she hummed. "You have magic hands, you know that?"

He chuckled. "You know, you've said that before…" he teased, watching the blush colour her cheeks.

She swatted his arm lightly. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"You want me to stop?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that," she protested, a smile threatening to spread.

"That's what I thought," he said with a laugh.

Emily wasn't keen to jump into what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation, so she stayed quiet, instead choosing to fully enjoy the foot massage her boyfriend had decided to give her. Mark, for his part, was content with the quiet and seemed to simply enjoying being with Emily after a long shift at work.

Eventually he reached over and took her wine glass from her hand, taking a drink from it. "Oh boy," he exhaled.

She frowned as she worried he had some sort of inkling what she was going to tell him. He couldn't possibly know what she was going to tell him, though…could he? "What?"

"This is your favourite wine," he explained with a deflated tone. "You only bring it out for very good and very bad occasions. And given that you're curled up on the couch with a very pensive expression on your face, I'm thinking it's the latter."

Her mouth dropped open every so slightly. And here she thought moving away from the prying eyes of her profiler friends would grant her some ability to not be so transparent with her emotions. She thought she'd been doing a good job of keeping her worry and uncertainty to herself, but he'd seen right through it.

"Don't look so surprised," he chastised, taking another sip before handing the glass back to her. "I may not be a fancy profiler, but I'm not as dumb as I look," he joked half-heartedly, trying to lift her mood which had already begun to fall.

"Sorry," Emily replied with a rueful smile.

"Now then, do you want to talk about it? Or should I start putting together that bookcase you bought?"

Emily blinked at his gentle prod. She owed it to him to explain. She owed it to him to let him in. But damn it if she couldn't make the words leave her mouth.

He stopped massaging her foot and turned his gaze to meet hers. "Is it that bad?" he asked, suddenly worried that he'd misread her and there was something very, very wrong.

"No," she croaked as she shook her head gently. "It's nothing terrible. Well, maybe it is- I don't know."

Mark's eyes widened in fear. Maybe something was wrong.

Emily noticed his expression and hastened to reassure him. "I'm okay though, if that's what you're worried about."

His fear dissipated, but his brow remained furrowed. "You're not making any sense, baby."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Really."

He was unconvinced. "That's what you always say."

"Well, I mean it this time."

"Okay," he replied with an exhale, deciding to let it go for the time being. She'd explain in her own time, that much he believed. He broke up the slight tension that had built in the room by reaching over and grabbing the bottle of wine from the coffee table to refill her glass.

"I got a call from my old boss today."

Mark stopped pouring the wine as he processed her words. "Hotchner, right?" he said after a moment, finishing his task and setting the bottle back down on the table.

"Yeah," Emily confirmed with a nod.

"And?" he prompted. He could tell she was hesitant to tell him, and that had him feeling unsettled.

"He told me that he's going to be on special assignment, which is going to pull him away from the BAU."

"Your old unit."

"Yeah."

"Okay," he said with a nod, reaching over to take another sip from her glass.

She blew out a breath. "He asked if I could come back and help them out while he was away, because they don't really have anyone with real leadership experience aside from Rossi, who absolutely hates doing paperwork, and it's honestly a genuine concern that he might just ignore it all and make things a thousand times worse for everyone and-"

Mark held up a hand to interrupt her rambling. He had noticed that she tended to ramble when she had trouble figuring out what she wanted to say to him. She was fearless when she was on the job, but apparently he had peeled back enough layers that she was vulnerable around him. "Whoa. Slow down, Em. He asked if you could come and help out for a while?"

She blew out another breath. "Yeah."

"Any idea how long?"

"I think it's indefinite at this point," she said with a shake of her head. Her eyes were watching him carefully, trying to figure out what he thought of it all.

"When does he want you over there?" he asked. She couldn't help but notice that it looked very much like his expression had shifted from relaxed to concerned.

"He leaves next week."

Mark blinked as he grappled to process everything she was telling him. "Wow. Okay. And you can get away from the office?"

She nodded again. "I cleared it already."

His eyes widened in surprise at her response. "So you're definitely going then?"

She noticed the lack of venom in his question. He wasn't angry. He seemed…disappointed. "I haven't decided anything yet," she said, putting her hand into his and intertwining their fingers.

Was that true? In many ways, she felt like she'd already decided she was going to go…

"Penny for your thoughts?" she said after a minute with no response, her tone betraying her worry.

He let out a heavy sigh. "It's important to you to go?" Emily stayed quiet, but nodded, keeping her eyes locked with his. "Then you should go."

Emily felt her heart both swell and break a little bit at his response. She could tell he was trying so hard to be supportive without giving her cause to feel guilty, but that he was hurt by her desire to put a whole ocean between them.

"I don't have to-" she began to reply, her voice soft and uncertain. It felt strange to her to be so vulnerable and wanting to play the peacemaker, but falling in love with him had changed her in ways she was still getting used to.

"Yes, you do," he interrupted. "And we both know that you have to. I think you knew you were going to go before you got off the phone with him."

There wasn't an ounce of bitterness in his voice, and it killed her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, dropping her gaze to her wine.

He reached over and took the glass from her, setting it on the table before reaching over and stroking her cheek. "Don't be sorry, baby. This is who you are. I hate that we're going to be apart for god knows how long, but I know this is something you have to do. You've told me before that these people are like your family – and this is the kind of thing that you do for family."

Emily couldn't help the thought that flitted through her mind immediately. But you're my family too.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, his expression sympathetic and sad.

I bet you don't, she thought bittersweetly.

"But Emily – we can make this work."

Her eyes widened. Wait. Did he think…? Did he think she was giving up on them?"

"Wh-what?" she stammered, suddenly terrified that he thought she didn't love him enough to want to fight.

"Long-distance relationships are hard, yes, but they can work. And it wouldn't be for forever… Just until you can come back. Don't give up on us, Em," he implored, searching for a way to convince her not to leave their relationship behind when she left.

She shook her head quickly. "I'm not," she promised. "I don't want that. It never even crossed my mind. I love you, Mark."

He smiled in relief. Maybe they could survive this. "I love you too, Em."

Emily bit at her thumbnail nervously as she sat in the chair in the airport, her right leg bouncing in anticipation. She briefly wondered if flashing her badge could get her through the security doors in front of her, underneath the large screen that was mocking her with it's "arrived" notation.

She switched hands, this time tearing the cuticle of her left ring finger. She looked up once more at the screen, only to find the same damn string of text sitting there next to the flight number, and she let out a frustrated sigh. She had never been a particularly impatient person, but after months apart she was anxious to see him, and have him in her arms.

Emily heard the doors open and looked over, unable to keep the expression of disappointment off her face when she saw an elderly woman making her way to her family. She had known it would be tough to be apart for weeks, but she hadn't expected to stay in D.C. this long, and they hadn't planned on neither one of them being able to get time off to visit each other. It had led to months with only phone calls and video chats to stay in touch. Emily hadn't expected how much she would crave a simple thing like holding his hand or the feeling of his arms around her.

Hotch's ultimate departure from the BAU had thrown a wrench into everything, and she had felt compelled to stay and help. Mark had been more understanding than she could have ever imagined or asked for, but now she just felt awful for being the cause of their separation. These were months of potential happiness they could have had together.

The doors opened once more, this time revealing a steady stream of passengers. Her eyes scanned them quickly, searching for the familiar face and finding it within seconds. She wanted to go to him, but all her feet had managed was to stand up.

His eyes were still scanning the crowd of waiting people, trying to find the face that he'd been thinking about the whole flight. He spotted her finally and it felt like the air rushed from his lungs. He couldn't breathe because she was here. She was standing there, looking every bit as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt his emotions overwhelm him.

He quickened his pace and ended up dropping his bags on his way over to her, because he just didn't care. Neither of them said anything as he wrapped his arms around her tightly and breathed her in.

After a moment, she pushed against his chest and tilted her head up. He took the hint without missing a beat, and they shared a passionate kiss.

"Hi," she breathed as they finally broke apart, her voice barely above a whisper and her eyes still closed.

"Hi yourself," he replied with a soft smile.

"God, I've missed you," she said, wrapping her arms around him once more.

"Me too," he said softly, one hand winding into her hair.

From the moment they were reunited in the airport, they were trying to make up for lost time. The touches – a graze of fingertips, loosely held hands, a stroke of the cheek – weren't enough to satisfy either of them. Mark had missed the feel of her hand in his, the way her hair felt against his neck when he hugged her tightly, the warmth that emanated from her when he held her close. Emily was more tactile with her displays of affection now that she'd gone without it for so many months, and constantly reached out to stay connected with him.

Everything was smooth until they got to dinner on Saturday night, when casual small-talk somehow segued into Emily finding the courage to share the news that had been preoccupying her mind for days.

"They've offered me the unit chief position," she blurted out, instantly regretting the surprise of her declaration. She had hoped to be more delicate with delivering the news.

Mark's eyes widened at her outburst. "Permanently?"

"Yes," Emily confirmed with a quick nod.

He put down the burrito he had been eating and let his gaze linger on the foil packaging as he tried to cobble together coherent thoughts. Just as they'd been reunited after all these months, life had thrown them another curveball – or more accurately, the FBI had. Mark felt a wave of anger at the universe – why the bloody hell couldn't they just be happy?

"Do you want to take it?" he asked finally, meeting her gaze and watching her reaction to his question carefully. She paused before answering, and Mark was pretty sure he was sunk. She wanted the job, but was tentative to admit it because she was worried about his reaction.

"I told them I had to talk to you before I could agree to anything."

He hung his head and rubbed his face with his hands. She had avoided the question, and now he definitely knew that she wanted it.

"I want you to have a say here, Mark," she said, tilting her head slightly and leaning forward to try and meet his eyes. "You let me leave-" she stopped abruptly, before rephrasing. "You let me decide to leave London, but I'm not making this decision without you."

He couldn't help the word slip from his lips as he let his head lift up and felt the uncharacteristic rush of anger. "Why?"

Mark hadn't intended it to be a barb, but he could see immediately that she took it that way. "I love you," she explained simply, her tone tinged with a raw sadness.

"You didn't answer my question. Do you want to take it?" he replied coolly, trying very hard to keep his temper and frustration in check.

Her eyes flared in reaction to his cool accusation. "Yes, I do," she said, her tone unapologetic this time.

He clenched his teeth. "So you want me to move here? Is that it?" he replied, feeling a fresh wave of anger and frustration wash over him. Where the hell did she get off being the one to dictate the course of their relationship again?!

Emily's eyes widened at his reaction. She never imagined he would be so bitter and harsh about it. "I didn't say that."

"So you want us to break up then?" he retorted immediately.

She felt her heart tighten in her chest as her emotions shifted from anger to hurt. Why was he giving up on them so easily? Had she really misread everything?

"No," she answered vehemently. "Of course I don't want that," she said, reaching a hand forward to link with his. She didn't. She loved him dearly, and wasn't willing to give up on what they had.

He pulled his hand away and got up, his emotions searching for an outlet. "But you have to want one of them, Emily, because you can't have it both ways. If you take that job, I either move here, or we break up."

She was silent for a moment, letting the sting of his words and his actions linger. "Or I could move back to London," she offered quietly.

"We both know that's not going to happen, Em," Mark said as he grabbed his jacket and shoved his arms into the sleeves.

"Where are you going?" she asked with a frown, getting up and following him.

"I need some time to think. Some space."

"Mark- Come on, let's talk about this," she pleaded.

He shook his head. "I just need some time, Emily," he said, holding up a hand to stop her in her effort to grab his hand. "Don't wait up." He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek – because as frustrated as he was, he still loved her.

She watched him leave the apartment she had been living in alone for almost six months, and wondered just how in the hell she had managed to screw up their reunion after all that time apart. But mostly she wondered if she was losing the man she loved over wanting to hunt serial killers.

Mark returned a couple hours later to find her suitcases packed and next to the door. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the back of the couch, realizing that the apartment was eerily quiet, and it reminded him of how their loft in London had sounded the past six months without her there.

"Oh, hi. I didn't hear you come in," Emily said as she came out of the bedroom with another suitcase in her hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going back to London with you."

He frowned. She wanted this job. And he knew she wanted to be closer to her friends. Her family. "You said you wanted to take the job," he reminded her.

She set the suitcase in her hand next to the one by the door. "Life's about more than a job. I'm not giving up what we have just to go and chase serial killers again."

His frown deepened. She was oversimplifying the situation, and it was so painfully unlike her. "Emily-" he started but found himself interrupted by her right away.

"I thought about it, and you were right, Mark. I can't ask you to give up your career in London, and leave your life behind just so I can have what I want. You already let me come here in the first place, and I'm being selfish to want to stay."

He let out a heavy sigh. He had realized while he was walking around the neighbourhood that he was actually okay with moving to America, so long as he got to have her in his life. "You didn't ask me to give that up," he said quietly, taking her hands in his and holding them to his chest. "I was an ass earlier, Emily. I can fight fires here just as easily as in London."

Her eyes widened at his words. "But you were in line for a promotion and-"

"But nothing, Em. I don't care about that. I care about you. I love you. I want to make this work, because God help me, I don't think I can last another day without you in my life."

"But what about your family?" she whispered, still tentative about his declaration. It had taken her by surprise and she was having trouble reconciling it with his earlier behaviour.

"We can visit at Christmas, and I'll visit Mum on her birthday. I don't see them much outside of that anyway."

Emily let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around him tightly, letting her head find the crook of his neck where it seemed to fit so perfectly. He wound one hand into her hair, and held her tightly with the other.

"I love you," she mumbled.

He smiled and felt his heart swell. They'd be okay. "And I love you, Em. God, do I love you."

As always - I'd love to read your thoughts and comments... :)