My entry for the June CCOAC Challenge. I was given the chance to write an OC, Hunt Devereaux, who was Emily's jilted lover from years past. I hope I did him justice.

I do not own Criminal Minds. I do in only my wildest dreams!

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step. ~ Lao Tzu

Emily Prentiss didn't usually believe in coincidence. Her job was one of her few exceptions to this rule.

This realization hit her as she sat in her brand new office in the Headquarters of the London Interpol office. Before, this office had belonged to Clyde Easter, her friend and former teammate. Now, he was running this office. And she had her own team.

Emily sat in the leather swivel chair and recounted her journey to get to this moment. After college, she worked with the CIA before Clyde Easter bought her to Interpol. And after Interpol, she asked to be transferred to the FBI. After that, she'd spent seven years with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. The best seven years of her life, she had noted.

A knock on the half-opened door startled her back into the present to find Clyde watching her from the doorway.

"Having fun yet?" he joked, grinning slightly.

"This is surreal, Clyde," she remarked, standing up and walking around the desk to shake his hand. Emily was glad to have a familiar face in this office. After everything they had been through together, she could trust Clyde as easily as she had trusted her old team.

"You miss them, don't you?" he asked as she dropped her hand

She sighed and leaned back against the desk. "You could always read me like a book, Clyde." She admitted. "I do miss them. I got a call from Garcia when I didn't call her after I landed. Morgan emailed me saying that he misses our chats when we walk into work. And Reid's called me at least five times now. He always says that it's a mistake, but…."

"You don't believe him?" Clyde asked.

"Not for a second," she said. "I'm going to try and make Hotch give him some time off so he can visit. I know he'd love it here, with the number of famous authors that lived and worked in London. He could use a break from working with the team."

Clyde nodded. "And speaking of teams, you should probably get to know your new team." He gestured out toward the bustling bull pen. "Shall we?"

The bull pen was huge, like Emily remembered it. The carpet was industrial grade and a crisscross of red and whited stripes. "You've redecorated," she noted. Clyde chuckled and kept walking. Emily followed him to a small group of desks in a corner where three people stood.

"Emily, I'd like you to meet Benedict Watson, from Scotland Yard" a tall, pale man with a shock of jet black hair waved from his desk, grinning. Emily noticed that he had a thin face, so thin that she could see his cheekbones. "Over here, this is Claire Mallory, from MI5. I asked for her myself."

"Charmed," Claire chimed, shaking Emily's hand. She had dark skin and dark, determined brown eyes. "Clyde's told us all about you! Tracking down one of Interpol's most wanted three times… That's brilliant. It's an honor to meet you!"

"Same here," Emily agreed, thankful that Claire seemed welcoming bur hoping she wouldn't want to be regaled by an account of the whole Ian Doyle fiasco.

As they spoke, the third member of the new team turned from his view of the window to stare at the party. Before Clyde could introduce him, Emily spoke.

"Hunt Devereaux," she gasped. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

Devereaux grinned, showing a line of perfect white teeth and his brown eyes sparkled. "Emily! Emily Prentiss! Oh, it is so good to see you!"

Emily stiffened as he enfolded her in a hug. Thin, but only a few inches shorter than Reid, Hunt Devereaux's face had the beginning of a scruffy beard and his brown hair that always seemed to defy gravity in the most extreme way was combed back, though not entirely held down by the hair gel that he'd run through it. He was wearing black, like the rest of her new team, but his black coat could not hide the bright red business shirt that hid underneath.

"I'll leave you to get acquainted," Clyde cheerfully concluded, turning and walking away.

Emily wished he'd stayed to help her.

*~Hunt Devereaux~*HD*~Hunt Devereaux~*

Emily sat in her new flat, watching a Sherlock rerun and drinking a glass of wine.

Hunt Devereaux. Hunt Devereaux was here. Here! In London! And he was on her team! She was his superior on her old Interpol team.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Emily had met Hunt during college. Until he met Emily, Hunt had been a player, even more so than Morgan and had tried to worm his way into every girl's heart. Love them and leave them, as Morgan would have said. And it was easy for Hunt, with his British accent and his charming nature. Every girl on campus swooned over him.

But with Emily, who had played hard-to-get, he had fallen totally in love, or so he had said. They dated for a total of five years, two years in college and during Emily's active CIA Agent days. The day she had been offered a spot on Clyde's team had been the day Hunt had asked her to marry him. Emily had fought with herself over the decision for a week. Working with Interpol was a once-in-a-lifetime deal, but Hunt was the perfect man for Emily. Still undecided, she had gone out for drinks with Hunt and some friends.

Emily had watched as Hunt had slowly become more and more drunk until he was slurring his words and singing out of tune. Finally, when the bartender confronted Hunt, saying that he was cut off for the night, Hunt had violently stormed from the bar.

When Emily had tried to talk to him, Hunt had stalked off, claiming that he didn't need a woman to run his life.

"I'm a lone wolf!" he'd shouted as he left her alone on the steps of her apartment.

Hunt tried to apologize the next day, but Emily wouldn't hear it. She gave him the ring he'd given her that Saturday morning and accepted the open spot on Clyde's team the next day. Years went by before she saw him again.

It had been that night after they'd arrested Father Gamino for the murders of three men, including Emily's childhood friend Matthew Benton. They had met outside the chapel she had stopped at and he'd offered to buy a coffee for her. Since then, their relationship, while no longer a romantic one, had flourished into a distant yet steadfast friendship.

And now, that was all going to change, Emily realized as she sat there wondering how she was going to work at this job when she was so connected to a junior member. They would be working together again as co-workers. Would he want to date her again? Would he try to propose?

She took a sip of wine and mentally scoffed. Nonsense! He knew she was his superior, and like the FBI, Interpol had regulations when it came to superiors dating their underlings. If that happened, they could be separated, or fired. There was even the possibility that she could be demoted and sent back to the FBI.

As she thought about all this, her phone started to ring. She glanced at the caller ID for a moment before picking it up.

*~Hunt Devereaux~*HD*~Hunt Devereaux~*

Emily approached Hunt's desk, slightly wary of what he might think. She had seen him come in, not long after she had settled down at her own office.

Moments ago, she'd called Garcia, only to have a conference call with the rest of the team. Surprisingly, a lot had changed in the BAU. The team had been about to brief on a case, but had paused to talk to her. They had a new agent, a woman about Morgan's age. She'd stepped out for a minute, but would be back. It was almost like old times. She had even invited them out to London for a vacation or even the Olympics if they wanted. In return, they told her she had to come visit them.

And then she got a glimpse of a photo on Hunt's desk. It was in a simple wooden frame and contained a picture of a blonde-haired woman holding a sandy-haired little boy. In another picture in a more ornate frame was the same woman and child, but Hunt was sitting next to them and Emily could see the child had Hunt's eyes.

"So you're not a lone wolf anymore?" she asked.

"That's my wife Rose," Hunt said proudly. "And our son David. He's three now, turning four next month." Emily turned to see him smiling. "Did I mention Rose had twins? They're both girls and I named one Emily."

"After me," Emily noted. "I'd like to meet them," she said. "Rose and your children."

Hunt nodded, a silly grin on his face. "I told Rose about you. I said that you were the only girl who outsmarted me. I had you at the edge of the aisle and you ran off to become a sort of James Bond."

Emily felt a smile come unwillingly to her face.

"And an FBI Agent? That is… That's something else, that is!"

Emily grinned. "You know," she said. "If you met some of my FBI co-workers…."

"I bet they'd say the exact same thing." Hunt replied. "You, Emily, are smart, and brave… I didn't deserve you, Emily Prentiss. I know that now. But… If I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing. You taught me what it means to be a man and… I thank you for that."

*~Hunt Devereaux~*HD*~Hunt Devereaux~*

Emily sat in her office, glancing out toward her team. Benedict was reclining in his chair with his feet resting on the desk. Claire was sitting at her desk, finishing a file while chatting with Hunt, who sat on top of his desk, drinking a fresh cup of coffee.

As she watched them in that moment, Emily thought of Hotch and the others.

Hotch had been their team leader. Tough, determined and almost military in his leadership, the stoic stony glare he was known for was not above softening for a friend in need or a victim's family member.

Then there was the unflappable Garcia, Tech Goddess of the FBI. She was Emily's shopping partner, coffee date, secret-keeper, and with the exception of Reid, the smartest person on the team. Garcia knew her way around a computer and could pull up things that even the most sneaky person tried to hide.

Rossi had treated every member of the team like a member of his own family. If something was bothering someone, he would take them aside and guess with extreme accuracy what was troubling them. She remembered the murder of her friend Matthew Benton and how Rossi had stayed close to her during the investigation. When their suspect was sent to the airport for deportation, Rossi had asked if there was anyplace she wanted to go.

Morgan, despite his go-getter attitude, was like the older brother Emily had never had. He had taken her under his wing after she had joined the team and had helped her feel like part of the unit. It was Morgan who had expressed his concern during the Ian Doyle fiasco and Morgan who had been there for her at the warehouse. After she came back from France, it was Morgan who asked her to help train recruits at the Academy. It was Morgan who had helped her get her shooting back up to par. She danced with Morgan during the last song at JJ's wedding reception.

If ever there was someone in the FBI who had been like a kindred spirit, it was Reid. Their relationship, while off to a rocky start, grew to be very personal and tight-knit. He had told her about his headaches, the only person who had known before she'd confronted Ian. She had willingly gone shopping with him at a 24 hour craft store while looking for fabric so he could make his Fourth Doctor scarf. She had danced with him the longest at JJ's wedding, and he'd been the first person she danced with. To this day, she didn't know where she'd be without him by her side.

She missed them terribly, and she knew she always would. But she was looking at a new start that was sitting in the Interpol bull pen before her.

And she had realized it herself at JJ's wedding: Every ending is also a beginning. We just don't know it at the time.

A/N: I decided to write this as a sort of official farewell to Emily. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to write about her in my fics... I love her too much and I'm not ready to let her go yet.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little trip into what I imagine Emily's beginning at Interpol would seem like. Please leave a review, because I'd love to hear what you think!

Lots of love,

*~N_CBAU~*