"They're taking over."
AJ laughs on the other end of the phone. "Hello to you too."
"No really. I've been good, AJ. I've been home at six, I've kicked them all out at eight, but God."
"Invaded by the BAU Clan."
He runs a hand over his face. "The what?"
Her laughter comes through again. He has to admit that these days have done good things for her. She sounds lighter, she sounds more confident, she sound like the AJ he fell in love with. And he feels like they sound like them.
"The BAU Clan," she says. "It's the nickname our family got… God, ages ago."
"BAU?"
"Yeah. Mom, Dad, Uncle Derek, Aunt Pen, Aunt Jen, Uncle Spencer and Grandpa Dave were all a team at the BAU. Did I not tell you this story?"
"I don't even know what BAU stands for," he answers as he drops to their bed. He's waited until the boys are in bed to call – his turn – so he's got time to himself. He's picked their bed simply because he needs it.
"Holy cow, I really haven't told you this?" She laughs to herself. "BAU is the acronym for Behavioural Analysis Unit. Remember I told you my family worked for the FBI."
He's sitting upright now though. He knows about the BAU. His father's defending a client by tearing apart a BAU profile. "You're serious."
"Of course I'm serious," she says. "My parents chased serial killers for a living until my sister was born. Dad still did for a bit after that and Uncle Spencer still works with the BAU from time to time. How have I not told you this?"
It's scary. Terrifying really. They're supposed to be getting married in a few months and there are things, big things, like the fact that her family worked in the BAU that he doesn't know.
"We suck," he blurts out.
"It's habit," she offers. "We grew up knowing better than to talk about what our parents did. I mean… serial killers Vaughan. My parents didn't even tell me until I was sixteen. And actually, I found out by accident. It was my journalism phase, so I was watching the news all the time and poof, there was Mom, on the screen, talking about a serial killer in Florida. I grilled my father until he spilled the beans." She pauses and he waits. "I think that's why we're all so close. I mean my best friend is Aunt Pen and Uncle Derek's daughter. Chris, Nate and Seth are virtually inseparable. We just… adapted. Because it was easier. We all knew what it felt like, to have a parent leave at three am for three weeks at a time."
"Three weeks?"
"It varied. And we never knew. It depends on the case and it's not like we lived a TV show. Real serial crimes can't be solved in forty-two minutes."
"And you're still so close."
"Well yeah. It's about quality, not quantity. I may not have spent a lot of time with my Mom for a few years, but she always made time for us. We all got our five minutes on the phone and when she was home she'd bake with Kate and I or she and Dad would take Jack to the laser tag place. It was always fun when Jack came home the winner." He can hear the wistfulness in her voice. "I guess… We just… Made time for each other."
Like he's not doing, though she's not accusing him of it. It's kind of the opposite actually, because her mother wasn't there for a chunk of her life and he's been missing parts of his sons'. Yet she's telling him that the amount of time doesn't matter. Like it never has.
"Maybe that's why I'm not mad."
There are days he wonders if they stick together because of this. Because she can read his mind and anticipate what's coming next. "Because you know we have good times when we're together."
"Exactly. Like that Saturday your father was in LA. We took the boys to the park and just hung out under that big tree we both love. That was a good day."
"It was an awesome day."
"Yeah," she says wistfully. "Or my family picnic. When we'd just found out we were pregnant. I don't think you stopped bringing me lemonade."
"You were drinking it," he defends, "and I had no idea what to do. It was my first pregnancy."
"I was not drinking it," she replies with a laugh. "I think I killed Aunt Pen's daisies because I kept pouring it into the garden." Their laughter dies away and then she says, "I didn't know what to do either. I still don't know what to do and they're almost eight months old."
"You're a fantastic mom, Annie."
"And you're a great dad, Vaughan. You are. I can see it. I have seen it."
"Annie-"
"I never once felt like you'd left me alone. Not really. Not down in my bones. I may have… thought about it. Because it was easier to blame you rather than recognize I couldn't even tell you that I was floundering."
There's a part of him that senses déjà vu, like they've been through this conversation before in the last week and that alone keeps him from arguing back. "I have it on good authority that it's the norm with you."
"Doesn't make it right."
"No." He sucks in a deep breath. "But I should have been paying more attention. I watch you all the time and I couldn't see that you were fraying."
"Stalker."
He smiles because this is them. This is what he's missed. Just talking to her. And yeah, maybe these conversations are easier to have over the phone, easier when he can't see her when he can't read her face or see everything she's trying to bury. He knows it's easier to say things to her when he doesn't have to face her. It's a lifetime of being judged that he can't just shrug off.
"So, they've decided it's going to be a boys weekend?"
Vaughan huffs. He's run away to the spare bedroom, leaving Alex and Brad in the more than capable hands of the men and children crowding their living room. "I take it you've been invaded too?"
"It feels less like an invasion when you grow up with it. My first break up, and I mean real breakup, not the little things you go through after you've been dating for a couple of months, my mom kicked my dad and my brothers out. I ended up spending the weekend literally encased in blankets and people while I cried and ate ice cream out of the container. Didn't have to lift a finger for the whole weekend."
He laughs because he can picture it.
"It's how they show that they care," she says quietly when his laughter and her echoing chuckles settle down. "It's how they show that you're not alone. Ever."
"Annie-"
"Sometimes I wonder how I managed to get you," she goes on, steamrolling over him. "Sometimes I wonder how you manage to put up with me. You give so much and I just take and take and take."
"You do not." He's indignant and angry because if there's anyone who just gives in their relationship, it's her. "Tell me you don't believe that. Annie."
The laugh he gets is self-conscious. "Of course I think that, Vaughan. Anything I actually ask for you find a way to get me. Maybe we're going through a rough patch with your job, but if I asked, even if I didn't really mean it, you'd pack the boys up and be here. Simply because I asked."
He growls and runs a hand through his hair, standing to pace. "Annie, all I've done is take. You tolerate my long hours, you haven't said a thing, and I've just been moving along like everything's okay. Like you're handling all of this just fine when you're not and I know you're not Superwoman. I should have known. I shouldn't have had to notice, but I'm selfish, because I have you and I let myself believe that everything was okay and I took- AJ, I took everything. Everything you had and apparently a lot you didn't."
"You took no more than I was willing to give," AJ argues harshly. "Vaughan, it's what I do. It's what I always do. I give and give and give and give and it's bad sometimes. Sometimes I don't know where to stop."
"So it's okay that I just take and take and take? That's ridiculous."
"That's not what I'm saying," she snaps. "What I'm saying is that it's both. It's both of us, it's compromise, it's trying to work this out together. It doesn't matter whose fault it was, if it was anyone's fault at all. What matters is that we work on fixing it, okay?"
He knows she's right. Blame has no place in this situation at this moment. They need a plan. He's no where close to sure what kind of plan and he sure as hell has no idea what it means for them, but he knows they need something. He sighs instead. "When are you coming home?"
"Not sure," she admits. "Sunday at the latest."
Next week. A whole other week. He's not sure he can go another week without her. "Annie."
"It's not easy for me either," she says softly.
His hand comes up to his forehead, fingers rubbing the skin against the bone. He sucks in a deep breath because he knows he has to do better. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too." Her voice is thick and as twisted as it is, it makes his mouth curl slightly. "You should get back. Before they come hunting for you."
He doesn't like it. He wants to stay on the phone with her. He knows her family is downstairs, he knows he's going to get teased mercilessly when he returns. He's not sure he cares.
"Go, Vaughan," she encourages softly. "They don't bite."
"Hard."
"You're such a drama queen."
He doesn't care. For once, he just doesn't care. "I'll call you tonight." His eyes close against the desperation in his voice.
"Yes."
He hopes he's not imagining it in hers.
