Just a different kind of JJ/Em story from the perspective of JJ's son Henry. It's just a one-shot to help stimulate more work on my longer JJ/Em fic but I thought it was different so I thought I'd post it. Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Read and Review!

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A Different Kind of Family


The heat of the day is fading into a cooler twilight, but you can still feel the warm pavement under your bare feet. You feel swept up in a wave of happy introspection. You are eighteen, just graduated from high school. You've made it to the milestone, now ready to take on the next one with gusto. You stand on the back porch and survey the back yard. The party has just ended, the guests are filing out the front door. This part of the night is over, another is about to begin.

You shrug off your suit jacket as you enter the house and pull off the tie. Your mom insisted on you wearing the thing despite the heat, and you're ready to be out of it.

You're happy. You just graduated from high school. You're eighteen and the world seems like one great big opportunity, full of endless possibilities. All you want is to go to college, learn, drink, and meet girls. You're going to be studying forensic psychology at college because you come from a family of law enforcement agents and it's all you've ever wanted to do with your life. You're ready to start the rest of your life.

But first there's tonight. You're going to a party at your friend Jamal's house in an hour or so, you're ready to party with your friends and say goodbye to high school life.

You turn as you hear your mom enter the kitchen, reaching out for you with tears in her eyes and seizing you up in a fierce hug.

"Oh Henry, I'm so proud of you," she whispers in your ear and kisses you on the cheek.

"Thanks Mom. Do I need to help clean up before I leave?"

She pulls back from the hug and looks at you quizzically before exclaiming, "oh right. That party. No, we'll clean it up tomorrow, I know everyone's tired."

"Where's …." You begin.

"Saying goodbye to your grandparents," she interrupts. "Did you tell them thank you for the watch?"

You nod and hold up your wrist to display the gift. You're not really an expert but you know that it was expensive, your grandmother said that it is Swiss. She smiles and stands on her tiptoes to kiss you on the forehead.

"Promise me that you'll be extra careful tonight? Please don't make bad decisions."

You look at your mom and try not to roll your eyes but she catches the look on your face anyway.

"I know, I know, you're a good kid. But just promise me you'll make smart decisions?"

"Of course," you tell her. She smiles and pats your cheek.

You smile back at her. She hands you something. A doll.

"You sister left this in the kitchen. Can you take it up to her when you go up? I doubt she'll go to bed without it"

You grasp the doll in your hand with a chuckle. "Sure, Mom."

You told your mom not to throw a big party, but eventually you are convinced and they throw a post-graduation soirée at your house. Everyone's there; your dad and his new wife, all your grandparents, school friends, your mom's old BAU friends, the neighbors. You're eighteen and knew that the party would probably be lame, but it was important to your mom and it was actually kind of nice to see everyone you cared about. Your grandmothers pinch your cheeks, Derek and Uncle Spencer try to give you advice on college chicks, and your quirky godmother Aunt Penelope chases you around with a video camera and tries to have you make funny faces at it.

It's quite the large and odd family you have. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and you believe you are living proof of that. There were camping trips with your Dad, game nights with Aunt Pen and Uncle Spencer. Derek coached your basketball team when you were a kid, and there were visits to all sets of grandparents, movie nights nestled with your parents (and later, little sister) on the couch. There was always someone there to pick you up from school, always someone cheering you on from the stands when you played a game, always someone ready with a hug if something was wrong. If it was at all possible, your family seemed to become stronger since the divorce.

Your mom sat you down when you were seven and tried to explain it. That Daddy wasn't going to live in the house with you and her anymore, but that you would get to go away and see him in his new house a lot. And you did, except Dad's new house was a lot smaller and you ate pizza or hotdogs all the time. Kids are resilient, and you adjust to the changes quickly because Mom and Dad aren't fighting anymore and Mom smiles again after a while. So like your friend Rachel from class, your mom and dad were divorced.

Not that you mind that they aren't together. Your dad is now happy with his new wife, with a new little daughter. He was active in your life, attended all of the important milestones, like your little league games, when your basketball team won the regional championship, your prom.

She tells you the same story when you are thirteen and he remarries a very nice woman that your mom actually likes quite a bit, but the story becomes more complete. You ask about the divorce and she tells you that you can ask any question you want. She tells you that it could be easy for someone to demonize your father like so many divorced couples do to their former spouses, but that it was both of them that were to blame for the relationship failing. She tells you that she still loves your father, but you know that it's not in the same way. You may have only been thirteen, but you knew what love looked like, and you couldn't remember seeing that in hers or your fathers' eyes when they looked at each other. And you can remember being a kid seeing your mom hunched over the kitchen sink, sobbing silently when she thought you weren't looking, and all you wanted to do was take her hand in yours and make it all better.

Because all you ever wanted was to see her happy.

There's a box at the foot of the stairs that wasn't there when you last passed by. You stoop down and quietly pick through it. DVDs and pictures. Here's one of your mom at her old job as the communications liaison for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI. She has one arm slung casually around the shoulders of your godmother and they're both beaming bright smiles at the camera. Another of Uncle Spencer and Derek, then one of Emily and your mom. You smile reverently at the different pictures and then spy something interesting.

A DVD that you haven't seen in the family archives before catches your attention. The case has a label: BAU X-Mas. No date. Normally you would ignore such things and toss the item back into the cardboard receptacle, but you're feeling a little bit sentimental tonight considering the circumstances so you let your curiosity get the best of you and make your way up the stairs as stealthily as you can with the mysterious movie in hand.

But first you stop by your sister's room. You knock lightly and open the door at the gentle 'come in' you receive in reply.

"Hey Bella," you greet your little sister softly. She's laying under the covers, dark hair spread over her white pillow, rubbing sleepy eyes. Though you would never admit it in front of your friends, you're really rather fond of your little sister. You've spent many free hours teaching her how to play basketball or soccer, and the girl had a mean penalty kick.

"Hi Henry," she mumbles, voice filled with sleep. "Are you going to bed?"

You smile and shake your head. "Nah, I'm going to a party with Ben and Jamal, but I'll be back tomorrow for your soccer game. I want to see a goal tomorrow, okay?"

She nods her six year old head gravely. "You bet, brother."

You smile and hand the girl her doll. "Good girl. I'll see you tomorrow, Bella."

"Goodnight," she calls after you as you close the door.

You head to your room and change clothes for the party before sitting down at your computer and putting the DVD in the drive. The fuzzy images flickers, then clears.

"Hello friends and lovers," a younger Aunt Pen appears, arms extended as holds the camera in front of her face, "I am your emcee Penelope Garcia and welcome to the humble abode of the lovely Miss Emily Prentiss and the annual BAU Christmas party!"

From behind the camera comes a scattering of laughter and cheers and then Pen turns the camera around and sweeps around what must be Emily's living room. You laugh and lean forward eagerly as Mom's former BAU family comes into view. They all look younger, but that's not surprising. Pen continues her narration.

"Now let's see here. I am going to introduce you, dear public, to the wonderfully sexy and talented members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

The camera moves and rests on Spencer Reid. He looks so much younger, no beard, but you recognize the same dorky sweater vest that you've always seen him wear. He waves to the camera awkwardly and offers a small 'hi'.

You're glad that Aunt Pen became a technical analyst and not a cameraperson, as she shakily navigates her way through the living room and kitchen introducing everyone, the charming Derek Morgan, your mom, a dark-haired man named David Rossi, the very serious-looking Hotch, and Emily.

The first few minutes of the video are pretty mundane, as Aunt Pen shoves the camera in everybody's face and demands a joke or a dance. She also spends quite a bit of time following around Derek and focusing on his backside, which makes you cringe. Just when you're thinking about turning the computer off the feed goes to black and then pops back up again. It must be much later because it is significantly darker in the apartment and much quieter. You hear Aunt Pen's voice again, which is now a whisper. She brings the camera to show her face.

"Oh my God," she begins, "something truly monumental is about to happen I think. After all these long years I think that something is about to happen between JJ and Emily. You'll thank me someday for this ladies."

The camera shakes and jiggles and then two figures come into focus. Your mom and Emily. Aunt Pen must be hiding behind a couch or something because. The audio is very soft, so you turn up the volume and lean in closer to the speakers.

Your mom has been crying, you hear the tears in her voice. "I'm sorry, Emily but I can't do this."

"Okay," Emily's voice sounds fragile and broken. "But I just wanted you to know how I felt. We won't mention it again, I won't come by your house again. Whatever you want."

"That's not it, Emily. I can't breathe when I'm around you. All I want is for you to touch me and it hurts so badly to be around you. But I can't handle this. We're coworkers, and I'm going through a divorce. It's not fair to Henry."

There's a certain bite to Emily's next words. "You don't think your son would want you to be happy? Because I think he's a smart boy and that's all he wants for you."

Silence. Your mom must not have had an answer for that one. Emily always did have a way of leaving your mom speechless.

"Because I think I make you happy. And I know that you make me happy because I've never wanted something so badly in my life, just to be around you. We see all this terrible shit and we chase serial killers, we have to tell families that their loved ones are dead and at the end of the day the only place I want to be is in your arms. If you don't feel the same way then I'll drop it forever and we can just go back to being friends and coworkers like nothing ever happened. But you have to know that I meant what I said last night."

Emily takes a step towards my mom, who seems frozen in her place as they stare at each other. It's almost in slow motion as she lifts her head and opens her mouth and says,

"I love you, Jennifer."

You hear quiet sobs as your mother cries. For a few seconds both of your parents stand immobile until your mom throws herself into Emily's arms. They kiss for a few seconds before they pull apart and mom replies, in an almost inaudible voice.

"This won't be easy."

"I know," Emily replies.

"But I love you too."

And with those words you see your mom's face light up. Only a few times in your life have you seen that smile. Only when Emily's around do you see it. Like at their wedding. You're nine and dressed in an itchy suit and all you can think about it pulling cousin Jessie's pigtails after the service to annoy her. But when they walk down the aisle arm in arm and smile at one another at the altar their combined smiles seem to light up the room, and you know that this is what love is supposed to look like.

If you were any younger you'd be freaked out to see your moms in such a romantically compromising position, but you're not seven, or thirteen anymore. You realize that in that moment your mom found true love, and you can only hope to one day find someone and you two feel as strongly about each other as Emily and your mom do.

You eject the DVD and place it back into it's case. You creep back downstairs and place the disc back into the box reverently, happy you watched it. Perhaps it would be best not to mention it to Mom or Emily, though. As you creep back towards the stairs you hear a "psst" from behind you.

"Henry," Emily waves you over with a whisper.

"What's up, Emily?" You whisper back and tiptoe over to your other mom. She looks around as if checking for intruders before she pulls something from her pocket and offers it to you. It's a flask.

"What's this?"

"I stole a couple of bottles of that good Scotch from your grandmother's house at Thanksgiving and I know you guys are going to be having some … beverages tonight, right?"

You shrug as nonchalantly as possible. Emily raises one eyebrow at you and stares until you break. "Yeah. Yeah, there probably will be stuff there."

She smiles. "Ahh to be young again. Well consider this my personal graduation present, okay?"

You smile at Emily. "Okay."

"Just don't be stupid, or tell your mother, because then we'll both be dead. Got it?"

You just smile wider and nod.

"And hey, your mom and I are so proud of you, Henry. We really are."

You can't believe how corny you are about to sound. "Thanks for making my mom so happy, Emily."

For a few long seconds Emily looks at you with tears in her eyes, touched, emotional and she smiles and seizes you in a fierce hug. After a minute you break the embrace and she wipes her eyes quickly.

"Go on, get ready now. And watch yourself, be smart. Don't come home hung-over or your mother will have your hide."

You slip the flask into your pocket and nod gratefully. You plod back up the stairs and retrieve your cell phone, keys, wallet, and come back down quietly to avoid waking your sister. You hear noises from the kitchen and poke your head around the corner to see your parents. Your mom has opened a bottle of wine and pours two glasses, and Emily is adorning a plate with what looks like grapes and cheese. Mom sets the wine bottle down and turns to Emily, who does the same with the plates.

"I can't believe our boy is growing up," you hear your mom say reverently.

"You did such a great job of raising him, Jennifer." Emily steps into Mom and places her hands on her cheeks.

"We did a great job," Mom puts emphasis on the 'we' and mirrors Emily's actions by cupping her head in her hands. "You played a big part, too."

"I'm so proud of him. Of us," Emily's voice sounds strained nearly to the point of breaking, and you've only ever seen her cry twice. Once was when she found out that she couldn't have children, and your mom held her for half the day, and then second was when Bella was born, her egg and donor sperm housed in your mom's body, and in an odd way their little family became complete.

They stand staring at each other with enough sap to fill a syrup bottle, but now you understand it.

You hear your mom say that phrase. It is just words, but you've always been taught that you only say them when you truly mean it, to the people who mean the most to you. And you're quite sure that along with you and your sister, she's never meant it more than when she says it to her.

"I love you, Emily."

"I love you, too, Jennifer," Emily echoes.

You see their lips meet in a kiss, which you take as your cue to excuse yourself as you retreat towards your car and to Jamal's party. You're upbringing was and wasn't conventional in many ways, but you don't mind that. Because while your Dad will always be your Dad, your true parents have always been your Mom and Emily. It's an odd family, but it's your family, and they're happy, and they will be there for you always.

And when it comes down to it, you think that's more than anyone could ask for.