For a week Emily fretted over having sent the letter and whether it was really a good idea. She regretted it about 5 seconds after dropping it in the box fearing she had just made a bad situation worse. She knew JJ would be worrying about her, but adding the letter … well, JJ probably now thought she'd lost her mind. What difference did it make? It's not as if she could see or talk to JJ and the likelihood of any future with her or anyone else is bleak at best. At best, she could live knowing she finally had been honest. Ultimately JJ would respect that.
Emily immediately left Germany and decided to return to Prague. She just felt comfortable there given she had spent several weeks in the city already. In fact she had established a fairly predictable routine. Having a routine provided some sense of purpose. Outside of that, it simply felt as if she were wandering aimlessly.
Today, after speaking with a former Interpol contact in France, she concluded she had completely exhausted all avenues in tracking Doyle. The most promising piece of intel she had received was most everyone was certain he had left the States. While that doesn't aid in her attempts to find him, it does lend assurances he decided to leave her team alone. With Emily gone they really served no purpose for Doyle and they wanted him dead as much as he wanted Emily dead. Any attempts at hurting her team would be all risk with little or no reward. She concluded he had likely moved on and found solace in knowing they were likely out of danger.
What I wouldn't give for one of Penelope's quirky remarks right now. Or a drink with Morgan. I'd even take a few random, useless facts from Reid. Hell, I'd rather be defending my motivations for joining the BAU to Hotch right now. She laughed as she got ready for bed. It was a curious compilation of individuals, her team. But as she laid down her thoughts went to their usual place. She thought of the days away from Quantico spent with JJ simply laying around her condo on the couch watching a corny romance movie or pretending to enjoy watching the Washington Redskins. Truth is she couldn't care less about football, but absolutely loved how excited the blond became when they were playing. As she closed her eyes she imagined they were both on the couch with her spooning behind JJ. She could almost smell JJ's shampoo and feel the warmth of her body next to hers. I love you so much. With that final conscious thought she drifted away to a place far from Prague and far from the nightmare that is her life.
So here it was. Another morning sitting alone in a cafe pretending to be engrossed in a book, some paperwork, or her laptop. She paid no attention to any of it. She spent most of her time blandly in thought on mornings like these. This morning she found herself reflecting on the choices she made over the last 20 years. She had made her career choices in a way that fit her life as a child. Having moved around so much while growing up, it became very easy to be whoever people wanted or someone you were not. It was too difficult to carve her own identity because she was never allowed to become comfortable in one place. She was also taught to put on the right face for the situation. Thanks to her mother she had become a master of masking her emotions. This ability served her best when she went undercover in France for nearly 8 years as Ian Doyle's lover. When she really allows herself to think about it, she is amazed she carried on the charade with him for that long. She had numbed herself to the point of not feeling anything at all and essentially saw her life as a continuous acting role. Play the part. Sell it to your audience.
Once again she was playing a role. A little less definitive, but an acting role nonetheless. Living a life that wasn't her own.
After about thirty minutes she walked away. She would return tomorrow around the same time and wait. She stopped expecting anyone to show several months ago. It was becoming clear no one would pull her out of this act.
The next day she returned, ordered her coffee and chose a seat outside as it was a warm, sunny morning. She sat in silence and engaged in watching the tourists and businessmen walk the streets on what was a busy Wednesday morning. Just as she was contemplating whether to eat or leave, a man bumped into her chair causing her to spill her coffee. She turned to him and he apologized profusely in English. She looked up not expecting words in a language other than Czech. He continued to apologize and offer to buy her another. She politely declined. To her declination he nodded understanding and pushed his napkins in her hand while giving her a long hard look. Immediately she realized it was no accident. She thanked him and turned away, intentionally not allowing her eyes to follow him. As she set the napkins down she realized one of them had handwriting etched in red ink.
Cellar Bar. 7:30pm.
Emily's heart was racing. While she had longed for any contact or news, Emily felt sick. They didn't have Doyle. You don't arrange for secret meetings if Doyle had been captured or he was dead. Had they found him? Was he here in Prague? Had something happened to her team? To JJ? Emily sat at the cafe for another hour going though multiple scenarios. None of them made her feel better about the situation. By the time she left all she had completely worked herself up. All she felt was contempt. Would this ever end?