Sorry for the length, but I want to think that Dave has more than one confidence besides Hotch who knows him better than he knows himself.

The Last Unbroken Heart

Tucked in the corner of the restaurant, Walter looked up in time to see Dave enter the room. With his hand he gestured his friend over.

"Good to see you, Dave."

"You too, Walter." Dave sat down opposite.

"How was the flight?" Walter sipped from the glass of water and cautiously eyed the man who had been his friend for nearly forty years. "You look tired."

"It was long," Dave admitted. "Thank God for First Class accommodations. Still doesn't help with the turbulence, though." He caught the look in Walter's eyes. "What?"

"You're alone. I was hoping Emily would have accompanied you," he replied wistfully.

Dave sighed. He had gotten thru the last two days without thinking about Emily, but of course Walter would have to bring her up. "As far as I know, she's back in London doing whatever her crowd does." He picked up the menu and attempted to feign interest.

"That's too bad. I like her."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know her."

"Well, from what I saw, I liked. And I am pretty sure you feel the same way," Walter observed saucily.

"What I feel doesn't matter," Dave retorted. "We're getting the annulment, and we'll probably never see each other again."

"What you feel does matter," Walter contradicted. "I've known you the equivalent of two lifetimes, and I have never seen you jump into something with someone the way you did with Emily. Obviously, you like her."

"We were partners at the BAU for nearly five years, and I helped her out when she was in dire straits, and she did the same for me when I lost Carolyn. So, yeah, I guess I liked her well enough. What does that have to do with anything?" Dave turned his attention to the printed words under the plastic covering.

"Depends on whether you want to tell me the truth." Walter adjusted his glasses. The movement was not lost on Dave, who had seen that gesture many times in the courtroom – right before Walter lit into the defendant.

"You aren't scoring any points with me, Wally, because I know your tricks – inside and out – and this isn't the courtroom. Besides, I'm the profiler at the table," Dave stated impatiently.

"It doesn't take a profiler to notice that you are head over heels for your wife."

"She's not my wife," Dave groused.

"She is…until I can file the paperwork. Even then, you have a week to contest it."

Dave laid the menu down. "Need I remind you that Emily Prentiss carries a Glock and is a sharpshooter? If I contest anything, it will be my death sentence."

"I knew I liked her."

"Is there a direction this conversation is heading?" Dave asked.

"She complements you."

"Many women have complemented me."

"Oh yeah. Let's go down the list, shall we?" Walter started counting on his fingers. "Emma…then Carolyn…Gretchen, the model…followed by Serena, wife number two….then Priscilla…Maggie…Joan…Sharon…Isabella, the circus performer –"

"She was a contortionist," Dave corrected.

"Diane, wife number three," Walter continued without missing a beat, "Marta…Debra…Tatianna…and last, but not least, Erin." He saw the dark cloud in Dave's eyes. "I'm still so sorry about that one."

"Thanks for pointing out my lousy track record with women. Will it be alright for me to order the rib-eye, or are you going to lecture me on the dangers of red meat and cholesterol?"

"Touché." Walter motioned to the waiter that they were going to need a few more minutes.

"I'm sure that there is a point to revisiting my list of girlfriends/lovers/wives of past."

"There is."

"And I am sure that you are going to let me know what it is," Dave prompted.

"They looked good on your arm, but you complemented them. Though Erin came the closest to being the right one. And I am sure that you had found happiness with Erin. But Emily complements you."

"It won't work out. It never works out with co-workers. Or have you forgotten that I am the reason behind most of the fraternization policies at the FBI?"

"She isn't your co-worker anymore. Besides, even if she was, weren't you thinking about retiring after your birthday?" Walter reminded.

"Maybe."

"What are you afraid of? Oh wait!" Realization slowly dawned on Walter. "Emily Prentiss…wasn't she the one who had to fake her death to prevent a terrorist from coming after the BAU?"

"She was."

"I thought the name was familiar. Remember when you called me to tell me what happened? I wondered how you could be so broken up over someone you hadn't been intimate with."

"She was my partner."

"You lost two partners during your first tenure," Walter gently reminded.

"They weren't women."

"Exactly. You loved Emily."

"Walter…" Dave shifted in his chair.

"You're scared of losing another second chance."

Dave blinked. "I'm not following you. Please explain."

"You never got the second chance you hoped for with Emma. I know that you were hoping that she would realize that she loved you and leave her husband that night you ran into her at the theatre. And Carolyn…I'm going to be honest, but that torch you've carried for her for thirty plus years did nothing but put out the possible fires with wives number two and three."

Dave reached for the glass of water. He took long, measured sips.

"She led you to believe that you were going to get a second chance, but she hurt you worse than any woman – before or since – and I know that you tried to get over her. Erin was your second chance. She was your true love. She was the reason you left, then came back to the BAU," Walter recalled. He watched as the emotions passed across Dave's face. "I know you went to Vegas to forget."

"I was trying," Dave admitted with a sardonic snort. "I got side-tracked."

"By the last person you ever expected to walk back into your life. Out of curiosity, what was Emily doing in Vegas?" Walter wondered.

"Her 'Sin To Win' was moved from Atlantic City to Sin City."

Walter's eyebrows jumped and his eyes danced with delight. "Ah. 'Sin To Win'. Many a good memory has been made there."

"You?" Dave sputtered in disbelief. "No," he raised his hand, "I don't want to know."

"Emily could very well be your second chance…if you put aside the fear of being led down the primrose path and then kicked to the curb. You love her."

"Walter…"

Walter cocked his head. "You married her while you were in a drunken stupor. Many people don't even have that going for them when they take their vows. And trust me. I've been on both sides of the divorce card to know this for a fact."

Dave managed a smile. "What do you suggest I do?"

"Woo her. Even if she's in London, if you do it right, she won't be able to resist. At least try to give this moment of insanity a chance. Besides…" Walter let the word hang as he quenched his dry throat. "I think you're missing the obvious."

"Alright, you got me. What is the obvious?"

"I'm sure that you slept with Emily…"

Dave's eyes narrowed. "We had…intimate relations, yes. But we used protection."

"Faithfully?"

"Dammit, Walter. We…" Dave instantly recalled that last night in Vegas. He and Emily had gotten so carried away that neither had given much thought to protection. Oh shit! "We got careless. Once."

"She might be pregnant."

"Any words of wisdom, Obi Wan?"

"Go after her. You have ninety days, so make the most of them. If she is, and if you both decide to call it quits, I'll file divorce papers and work something out to benefit you three."

"And if she isn't?"

"The annulment papers go down to the courthouse the next day. You got nothing to lose either way, Davy."

"Thanks. Now can we order? If I'm going to face Emily, I first have to face Hotch. And I want to make my last meal count," Dave pleaded and picked up the menu. "And you're picking up the tab."

"It's the least I can do. Just consider naming it after me, okay?" Walter picked up the menu and indicated that they were ready to order.

"Only if it's a girl."

Walter's response was a wide grin.