Chapter 30

Dear Sara,

My Mother always told me that all letters should begin with the most important news first. So let me begin by saying that not only would I not be disquieted if you said it back to me, I don't think anything could possibly make me happier.

I love you.

Now why aren't you leaving the house for six months? I can understand being injured and wanting time to recover, I plan to be in another week myself, but six months sounds excessive. You have a life, you should be living it. And why can't I visit? I'm off for a month, which I think is ridiculous but Hotch is insisting, so I have ample time. I'd love to come see that garden with you. I know that being alone for so long can make people fearful of the crowds or of open spaces, and if that's the case I understand. I'll help you find the best doctors to help and I'll be there to assist in whatever you need. Please tell me, so I can find a way to help you, I would not consider it a desire for pity, at all. I would never pity you. And in the meantime, please tell me more of these fantasies you're creating. Hopefully you'll give me the opportunity to make them come true.

Thank you for the picture, you have an amazing talent. I finally had a chance to sit down and talk to my sponsor, who informed me that despite everything that happened I did not have a relapse. Apparently between having told my friends that I never want to take narcotics again and telling Pieter to go to hell I actually maintained my recovery. Being shot up against my will does not count, I said no. He doesn't really understand the idea of being faithful to the ideals of Knighthood and the concept of chivalry, but he's decided it's somehow related to the idea of a Higher Power. Whatever, I can still say that I have been officially clean for four years, six months, one week and five days. I admit to being proud of that.

Now, as far as life around here at the moment, I believe Emily and Ben are growing somewhat closer...

T + 14 Days

Ben Marel's Apartment

Washington DC

Emily

"Good night."

Emily locked up behind the nurse as she left for the evening. Spencer had steadfastly resisted all attempts at her trying to help him with the tube in his throat, insisting that it was too personal, too embarrassing and too, in his words, icky to have a co-worker/friend/sister help him with it. So, for now, they had a nurse coming in morning and night to help him with the thing. Hopefully it would only be until Wednesday. Wednesday he went back to the doctor and if the swelling in his throat had gone down enough the tube could come out and he would be very nearly healed. I'd like to put Van Rensburg in a choke hold for a while, she thought; see how he likes breathing through a tube.

She wandered back into the kitchen to find her glass of wine. Dinner had been shrimp scampi over linguini, garlic bread, zucchini parmesan, some gelato she'd picked up on her travels for dessert. Even Spencer had managed most of it, although they cooked up some orzo pasta for him instead of the linguini, the smaller size being easier to get down, and he had to cut the shrimp smaller and pecked his way through the bread. At least she didn't have to worry about him losing weight, she'd realized when he fell into her arms that he was already too dammed skinny, and even the loss of a few pounds while in captivity were not to his benefit. But thanks to her being late and so cooking late they ran right into the nurse's visit and he was now in bed with a stack of books and a bowl of gelato and Ben was doing the dishes. This gave her the excuse to settle at the kitchen counter and watch.

"You haven't said anything about the apartment hunt today." Ben said when he heard her settle.

"That's because it's going so badly. So far I haven't found anything that's secure enough, within my price range, in an area I'm even willing to accept, that takes a cat." If she'd thought it would be this difficult she would have told JJ to hold her old place for her.

He scrubbed at the pot a moment. "You know, you could stay here."

Ah, she thought, here we go. "Is that a proposition, or an Offer?"

He looked up at her once he put the pot in the dishwasher. "You tell me, M'Lady."

She sagged a little. "Oh stop that. I'm not a Lady." She took her wine and went over to sit in the living area, by the fireplace with the sword on the mantle. It was one big room; she could easily watch him from there. "Reid told me what that means to you people. I don't deserve all that."

Ben shrugged and started rinsing the last pot. "I'm afraid I disagree."

"You don't know me." She pointed out. "You don't know the things I've been involved with."

"So tell me."

Emily sighed and peered into the past through her wine glass. "Remember when I told you I had to gain Doyle's trust?"

"Yes. You said part of that was telling him about wanting a little brother."

"Yeah, well, I didn't tell you I was fucking him at the time." She raised her glass to her lips in time to see him wince. "Yeah, I sacrificed my 'honor' on the altar of national security a long time ago."

He rinsed his hands, and came over with his own wine. "Did you love him?"

Well, there was a question. "No. I hated him. I hate him." But, had she? Did she?

"See, that's the problem with casual sex. Our bodies aren't wired for it; we tend to fall in love with the people we have sex with. And then we ache when they leave, even the monsters." He watched her with compassion in his eyes. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

She shook her head. "Don't feel sorry for me, I volunteered."

"That was still a damned difficult thing to do." He considered her a moment. "Spence couldn't tell me everything, but he did say there was a child involved."

"There was. Declan, Doyle's son." She could still see the boy in front of her, plain as day. "He wanted me to settle down with him, to raise Declan to be a 'warrior' like him; to be a monster like his father." She looked back into her wine glass. "You know, I was a profiler for the CIA before I joined that task force. When he asked that I looked over at Declan and realized I knew exactly how to break that little boy into a monster."

"So what did you do?"

"I sent Declan and his guardian into hiding so no one could find them. Not Doyle, not Interpol, not even me. He's out there, somewhere, trying to get through high school, looking forward to getting his license, maybe hoping to date a cheerleader someday. He has a life, a good, normal life."

Ben considered all this a moment. "Given that, I would hardly call your actions dishonorable."

Emily shook her head and didn't even look at him, too good for this world, both of them. "I cheated, I lied to the people I love, we didn't know about Declan when I went in, I fucked a monster just to get intel. What kind of a Lady does all that?"

"A very brave and loving one," he replied as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a Lady," he said, very softly, "who sacrificed everything most precious in order to serve her country and protect her people. I see a Lady who would give up her own future to protect an innocent child. I see a Lady willing to face danger with courage and valor to protect her family, even to losing everything in her life just to keep them safe and free." He looked at her for a long moment, as if making up his mind, then set down his glass and stood and stepped to the fireplace.

And brought down the sword from the mantle.

There was a hush in the room, in the building, in the city. There was a hush in creation as something that had not happened for hundreds of years finally returned to the world. There was a hush in her heart and her soul as he dropped to one knee before her, that blade cradled in his open hands. "I see a Lady I would be proud to serve, if she found me worthy."

No, she thought, I don't deserve that. I don't deserve that kind of love. I lost the right to that when I volunteered to go after Doyle. She felt the tears welling behind her eyes as she was confronted by his simple, impossible act. This is not all in fun, she thought, this is not casual. This is real. This is love. If I accept that, I accept him.

I accept him.

It was lighter than she expected. The metal of the blade was cool and flexible, the hilt warm and rounded to his hand. When she looked at the blade, saw that it was engraved to Barcelona, to 1992; it just made it all the more real. Something, she thought, I should say something. But... she looked up and he was right there, brushing the hair away from her cheek. As their lips met, soft and warm and so perfectly gentle and that first spark of heat flew, all she could do was say yes. With everything she was, she said yes, I accept.