Welcome back. Let's go see what is in store for Emily this week. Enjoy.

The next week was uneventful for Emily. She focused on the files piled high on her desk and on not annoying anyone. Hotch pretty much ignored her while Reid remained polite, but not truly friendly. Both of which was fine with her. It only took her a couple of days to fall back into the routine of the BAU. She sat in on the new case reviews every morning and spent the remainder of the day working on the consults.

When the team had flown Wednesday morning to Dickson, Tennessee, she had tried to help them as best she could from Penelope's office. But with the two of them, the ton of computer equipment, two chairs and Emily's crutches, it was a tight fit. Emily had found it slightly stifling while the technical analyst basked in it, enjoying the opportunity to further mother the injured agent. She had even taken over ferrying the brunette back and forth to work. It had taken all of Emily's powers of persuasion to convince Penelope to drop her off in front of her apartment and not move in with her. As much as Emily enjoyed the company of the perky blonde, she had no desire to spend twenty-four hours a day every day the team was away with her.

Even though it had been her suggestion that had ultimately led to the successful capture of the UnSub, Emily still didn't feel like a full member of the team. All the evidence she had seen and heard had come to her second hand. It just wasn't the same as viewing the bodies and the crime scenes in person. Seeing first hand the evidence in its original context revealed more than a photograph ever could. Emily felt like she was sitting on the sidelines looking in.

Emily stared at the cast on her foot and wished, not for the first time that the eight weeks were over so that it could be taken off. Of course she would probably be stuck wearing some type of walking boot while she rebuilt the strength in the ankle. But it should allow her to return to the field on a limited basis. Staying at the police station would be frustrating but she would still be in the middle of the case. It was then that Emily realized that she was having a small pity party for herself and she knew the perfect cure to get her out of her doldrums.

Russ' week was also a typical one for him except for one minor blip. He had heard through the school grapevine that while riding his bicycle a car had hit Geoff Baker, one of the two boys with him in the convenient store. According to rumor he was in the hospital with severe head trauma. Geoff's accident wasn't a big surprise to Russ. The boy never wore a helmet and had loved darting in and out of the parked cars. He was always being warned about doing dumb stunts in the middle of the street. Russ naturally had felt bad that Geoff had been hurt and had hoped that he would make a speedy recovery. His aunt, of course, had been more critical. She had said that this was what happened when you didn't do what you were told to do.

He had dismissed his Aunt Helen to being herself and didn't pay any more attention to her uncharitable words and to Geoff's accident. There was nothing he could have done to change either. Not like getting Agent…Emily in trouble. Russ had been able to put it right by apologizing to her, which she had accepted. She had also put his fears at ease for which he was extremely grateful. He was now sleeping at night and was able to focus on what was truly important to him: playing baseball. And now he could do that because she had taken time out of her busy day to fix his baseball glove. In his book, that act of kindness made Emily his friend and he wanted to see her again someday.

Russ hurried to the park. The best thing he liked about Saturdays was that he could play baseball all day. There were always enough boys around to play a game or two before heading home for dinner. He skirted around a big maple tree and skidded to a stop. Sitting on the bench beneath its broad branches was Emily.

"Hi," he said shyly.

She looked up from the book she was reading. "Hi yourself," she said with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Emily shrugged and closed the book. "It's the weekend and there are no bad guys to catch so I decided to spend this beautiful day here at the park."

"Awesome," he said with a grin. "Will you watch me play?"

"Of course."

He sat down on the bench and eyed her messenger bag. "You didn't happen bring any cookies with you?"

"I believe I have," she said with a laugh and pulled out the tin. "It's a fresh batch; chocolate chip with nuts this time. Warren said his wife was surprised that I managed to knock off almost a dozen cookies in one day so she doubled the batch."

"Cool." His eyes lit up at the prospect of all those cookies.

"Now, lets try not to eat them all today," Emily said with a wink. "Otherwise, we'll have her baking nonstop."

"Okay. Can I have a few before I go and play?" he asked, pretending to pout. "I need all the energy I can get."

"Sure," she said, taking off the lid and holding out the tin. "Though I'm beginning to believe that you are merely hanging out with me for the cookies."

"Nah. I like you too."

She smiled at the compliment. "I also brought these along," she said and pulled out two bottles of chocolate milk.

His eyes lit up in delight. "You remembered!" he exclaimed and took one from her.

"I did." As she opened her bottle, Emily watched him devour the cookie and wash it down with a healthy swig of chocolate milk. He wiped off the milk mustache with the back of his hand.

"Did that hit the spot?" she asked with a chuckle.

"Yup," he said and helped himself to another cookie. He looked at it and the bottle in his hands. He kept his eyes on them as he said softly, "My Aunt Helen said I'm not supposed to talk to you."

Emily nodded in understanding and bumped shoulders with him. "I'll let you in on a little secret. My boss told me the same thing."

Russ looked at her worriedly. "He did?"

"Yes, but I don't see the harm in us talking. We're just two friends hanging out in the park, eating cookies and drinking chocolate milk."

"Yeah, we are," Russ nodded in agreement and took a third cookie and munched his way through it.

"Hammond!" a voice shouted.

Emily and Russ looked up to see a boy waving madly from the baseball diamond. Russ waved back and put the cap back on his chocolate milk. "Looks like the game is about to start," he said, standing up and setting the bottle on the bench.

"I think so," she agreed. "Have fun and hit a double for me."

Russ gave her a cheeky grin. "I'll try my best." He scooped up his glove and dashed off to join his friends.

In the fourth inning Russ hit a line drive to left field, dropping it in front of the fielder. When he fumbled the ball, Russ decided to try and stretch the single into a double. He slid into second headfirst and popped up grinning ear to ear, covered in mud. Two batters later he scored, what turned out to be, the winning run.

After the game, Russ came over to join her. Emily looked at him and his muddy clothes. He even had it in his hair. "Your aunt isn't going to be happy with you," she observed with an amused smile.

"She hates it when I come home dirty. She doesn't want me tracking it through the house."

"I can't say I don't blame her especially if she had just cleaned."

"Hey! That only happened once," he said, slightly affronted. "One time I forgot to take my shoes off before going inside."

Emily laughed lightly as she held up her hands. "Sorry. I meant nothing by it."

"Okay." Russ still looked put out. He sat down on the bench next to her and reached for a cookie.

Emily suddenly moved the tin out of his reach. "You might want to clean your hands first."

Russ looked at his mud-splattered hands. "I guess you're right." He hustled over to the lone drinking fountain by the playground. He washed off the dirt as best he could and wiped his hands on the seat of his pants. Then he went back to Emily and took a cookie.

"You played a good game," she observed as she helped herself to a cookie.

"Thanks," he said with a shy smile. "What you showed me really helped." He examined the remains of the cookie in his hand, itching to ask the question he had wanted to ask from the moment he had sat down next to her.

Emily took one look at him and could see that he had something on his mind. She dusted her fingers free of cookie crumbs and gave him her full attention. "Go ahead and ask your question. I know you are dying to."

Russ' eyes shot up, expecting to find a look of disapproval on her face but all he saw was genuine interest. Feeling embolden by her encouragement, he tossed it out. "Can you show me another baseball trick?"

Emily laughed lightly. "I wouldn't call them tricks, they're more like required skills." She removed from her bag a baseball she had found in the same box as the baseball glove and bounced it in her hand.

"I noticed that you have quite an arm." Russ beamed at the praise. "But you have absolutely no control." His smile faded. "Why don't you show me how you hold the ball?" she invited, holding it out to him.

Russ took it from her and held it up. He had three fingers on top and the other two on the sides. "Like this."

"There's your problem. You're holding it like an apple you are about to eat."

He looked at the ball in his hand. "I am?"

"Yup. May I?" she asked. Russ turned it back over. Emily pointed to the red stitching. "See how it forms two horseshoes?" He nodded. "This is how you properly hold a baseball."

Emily laid her index and middle fingers across the horseshoe so that the tips of both fingers rested on the same seam. Her thumb was on the bottom of the ball while her other fingers were folded against her palm. "It's called a four seamer."

"Cool. What does it do?" he asked as she guided his fingers into the correct positions.

"It lets you throw the ball further and harder," Emily explained.

His eyes widened in wonder. "Really?"

"Really," she said with a chuckle, enjoying how he absorbed anything she showed him about baseball like a sponge. It was refreshing to see how a child's mind worked after spending all her waking hours delving into the most heinous minds of the serial killers they were pursuing. "Try throwing the ball the way you always do and then do it the way I showed you."

"Sure." Russ eagerly hopped of the bench and threw the ball as hard as he could the regular way. The ball soared fifteen feet. He then tried it the way Emily had showed him and watched with delight as it flew another ten feet.

"That felt funny," he said after retrieving the baseball.

"At first it does," she said with a nod. "But with a lot of practice it will eventually come naturally to you."

He turned and tried again. His second toss didn't go as far as the first; it was too low and skipped over the grass. He scampered after it, scooped it up, pivoted and sent a screamer back at her. Emily didn't bat an eye as it whizzed by…ten feet to her left. She knew from the moment the ball left his hand that she wasn't in any danger of getting hit.

"Note to self," she said, "we need to work on his aim. It sucks."

"Sorry about that," he apologized as he trotted by to fetch the wayward ball.

"No problem. I knew you were going to miss."

"You did?" he asked when he returned.

"Yup."

Russ helped himself to another cookie and sat down next to her on the bench. "Hey, how come you know so much about baseball?"

Emily took a cookie for herself. "I played a bit growing up," she said with a dismissive shrug.

"What?" she challenged when she caught him staring at her with a dubious look on his face.

"It's a boy's sport," he protested.

She smiled at his black and white view of what boys and girls did. The poor boy had a lot to learn about the opposite sex. "A lot of girls play the same sports as the boys do. Like soccer, basketball and hockey for example."

"On the same team?"

"Sometimes."

"Are you really good at it?"

Emily shrugged again. "I could hold my own with the boys."

"Interesting," he concluded and devoured another cookie. "Thanks, Emily, for showing me how to throw the ball the right way," Russ said with his mouth full.

"I was glad to." She watched in amusement as he pocketed a couple of the cookies. "Don't you get cookies at home?"

"Only store bought," he said after polishing off the last of his chocolate milk. "These are homemade. They taste so much better."

"I couldn't agree with you more," she said with a light laugh.

Russ stood up. "I better head for home. It was great to see you. I had fun."

Emily smiled. "I did too."

He nervously twisted the baseball glove in his hands. "Are you going to be here tomorrow?"

She brushed a stray lock of hair off her face. "I'll try, but I can't guarantee it. My job is rather unpredictable."

"That's okay," he said. "I'll look for you. Maybe we can practice my throwing before the game?"

"We can do that."

"Sweet. Got to go," Russ announced. He gave her a wave and dashed off. Suddenly he stopped and turned to her and shouted. "And thanks for the cookies and milk."

"You're welcome," she called back, returning his wave.

He gave her a cheeky grin before hurrying off to home. As Emily watched his disappear around the corner, she knew she had made the right decision in ignoring Hotch's order. He was a good kid.

Wasn't that a nice bonding session? The two have seemed to hit it off. Things seem to be flowing nicely for the two. Will it remain that way for them next week? Do come back to see. But before you go, let me know what you think. I look forward to reading your thoughts and thank those who review last week. Much appreciated. Until then.