"Where's the damn phone," Elisabeth slurred stumbling around her two bedroom apartment a bottle of Shipwrecked 1907 Heidsieck Champagne clutched in her right hand. After a particularly hard case at the BAU half of the team had gone out for drinks but she politely declined making the half hour drive to her apartment building in Washington D.C. She took another long swig of champagne stumbling back to her well decorated bedroom. She noticed her cell sitting on the tall oak dresser and grabbed it before collapsing on the king sized bed. Photo albums surrounded her scattered all over the bed. Pictures of her and him she took another gulp out of the nearly empty bottle. She picked up the picture closest to her. It was one of her favorites, it showed them at the park where they would always go after classes. He had an arm around her waist and her head was on his shoulder. With shaking hands she picked up the phone and dialed the number... his number.
'You've reached Dr. Lloyd Lowery...'
"Damn it!" she screeched throwing the phone across the room and into the wall. She began humming to herself trying to fight off the tears threatening to spill over. She drowned the last of the bottle and threw it off to the side. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the room and for the first time in many years Elisabeth Williams cried.