Chapter Ten
There were a lot of occasions when Emily had been grateful for her team. Tonight was no exception. As they gathered around their table in the bar, having had a delicious lunch in one of the restaurants in town (courtesy of Rossi's latest book tour, of course), she could almost forget the day they were leaving behind. It was always like this.
That, she thought, was why Hotch never protested to them having one too many drinks the night they ended a case. It was a stress-reliever and a release for them all. They needed their downtime; their time to have fun together and to just be a family. Not a family having to watch each other's backs all of the time. Just a family who could buy a round of drinks, give a toast to Emily always being the one who got injured, play a guessing game of how much money Rossi's latest book had made and, of course-
"Truth or dare?" JJ was pointing a finger across the table at Morgan. Her eyes were slightly misty, but her hand was steady. Emily, who was trying to make her cider last longer than she'd ever had a drink last before, was definitely the most sober one at the table. She thought she might retire to her room soon, maybe find something on TV to watch and lull her to sleep. It was nice to spend time with them, but being the only sober one was always a buzzkill.
"Alright, blondie," Morgan responded, never one to shy away from a challenge, "I'll take the challenge. Dare."
JJ cast a glance around the bar, her face tight with concentration as she looked for her target.
"I dare you to go and get her number," JJ was pointing at a young blonde across the bar. She was surrounded by friends, and sporting a Birthday Girl badge. Morgan rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer. Nudging Reid in the side, he gestured towards the girls .
"Watch and learn, brainbox," He practically swaggered over to the girls and, sure enough, upon his return, he threw the number down into the middle of the table.
"Piece of cake," He proclaimed. JJ looked more disappointed than she did impressed, and cast a disapproving glance at Emily, who could only laugh in response.
"Hey, usually, I'm with you on this," She held her hands up, "But tonight, you encouraged the whoring, so I'm not engaging in any judgemental eye rolling." Besides, she thought, catching Hotch's eye across the table, I'm hardly innocent myself.
"Your turn, old timer," Morgan told Rossi, who looked affronted by the nickname.
"Old timer? Call me when you're my age; I don't have to go asking for numbers, kid. They come to me." There was a round of whooping around the table which calmed only when Morgan raised his voice slightly.
"Alright, alright." Morgan looked Rossi square in the face, "Truth or Dare."
Knowing what they were going to ask, Rossi figured he was safe enough this round. "Go on, then. Truth."
"You know what we want to know, Dave," Hotch commented, smirking over the top of his beer. Emily liked to see that expression on his face. It was relaxed; the smile lines around his eyes showed up and his whole demeanour shifted. He seemed younger, less weighed down. She liked that.
"Just tell us how many digits," JJ prompted, leaning in eagerly.
"Let's just say I'm looking into buying a condo on South Beach," He responded, tipping his glass of whiskey in her direction.
"Don't you already have a condo in Cali?" Morgan asked, incredulously.
"See, in all my years," Rossi continued, "I've never been able to decide which coast I like best. So, I figure, why choose when I can have both?"
There was no whooping this time. Just respectful silence and nodding. Then JJ stood up.
"I'm going to order another round on you, then," She said, clapping her hands down on Rossi's shoulders.
"None for me, Jayje," Emily called after her, as the blonde disappeared into the crowd. "Painkillers." She said, by way of explanation, as Morgan's face fell as he groaned, disappointed.
"Ah, but you're the life of the party, princess."
"Well, I'm afraid your party's going to have to go on life support tonight you guys," She jested. Again, she saw the effect of the joke ripple around the table as their faces shifted in the same way Hotch's had done at the hospital. "Oh, come on, guys, it's a joke."
"It's not so funny when you've lived it," Reid mumbled, suddenly very interested in the stem of his wine glass.
Emily was momentarily stunned, as she looked around at them. For almost a year, she had been back, and none of them had ever spoken of it. With the exception of Reid's outbursts towards JJ just after she'd gotten back, everybody had taken it in their stride. Or so she had thought.
"I did live it, Reid," She said, shortly, "Remember?"
His face said that he did remember. They all remembered, very well.
JJ returned, holding a tray of drinks, and the smile on her face fell away when she happened upon their uncomfortable silence. Casting a look around the table, taking in each expression, she set the tray down and slid back into her seat. Still the drunkest one there, and unable to whisper at the best of times, she leaned into Emily and stage-whispered.
"What did I miss?"
"Nothing, blondie," Morgan interrupted, "I believe it's Rossi's turn."
"Right. Hotch," Rossi continued, attempting to smooth over the awkward moment, as JJ handed out the drinks, including the pint of cider Emily had asked her not to get.
"I didn't hear you," She explained, when Emily pointed this out. "Loud music, loud bar, quiet little Emily voice." She explained, speaking in a high pitch and holding her finger and thumb an inch apart to, Emily supposed, demonstrate what that would look like if it were a hand gesture.
Reid had finished his first glass of wine, presumably out of awkwardness, which Emily hated, and reached for his second glass quickly. As he reached for it, he sent it flying across the table. Red wine splattered over the tablecloth.
"Nice one, pipe cleaner," Morgan proclaimed, standing up quickly as the liquid flowed towards him.
"I got it, I got it," JJ produced some napkins from the tray she had brought over and started mopping up, with Rossi's help. Emily was fussing with the wine that had splattered her top, and when she looked up, Reid had disappeared into the crowd, heading back towards the bar.
Catching Hotch's eye across the table, she noticed the minute nod, and stood up to follow the youngest member of the team.
"I thought we'd been through all of this," She told him, rubbing a comforting hand up his back when she found him at the bar, "I thought we were good."
"We are good, we're great," He told her, in that quiet voice she knew so well. Still, he didn't look at her.
"I've told you before, Reid," She said, "I'm sorry. We handled it the best way we could at the time; Hotch and JJ had to think on their feet. If they hadn't..." She hesitated over her words. The truth was sometimes the most difficult thing to admit. "If they hadn't, you might have been burying me for real."
"I know," He said, handing his credit card across the bar as the barman placed a fresh glass of red in front of him, "I know all of this. But that doesn't take any of it away. It doesn't take away the months of missing you, the nights of crying to JJ, the trips I took to your grave and all of the flowers I left there for you. I spoke to your headstone, Emily," He had told her all of this before, but Emily nodded, recognising his need to share it now, "It doesn't take away the fear that, one day, it might be real. One day, you might not come back."
Emily was quiet for a long moment, her hand still softly stroking his back, before she pulled him into a hug. His arms tightened around her and Emily felt her ribs complain, but she didn't tell him. She let him hug her, long and hard, and when he let her go, she made him look her in the eyes.
"That's the job," She told him. It was a line she'd said many times before, and it still held all of the weight it had the first time someone had said it to her. "It's no different to all of the times we've thought we could lose you. I hate it when we're out in the field and I worry about you guys more than I worry about our victims, but that's the job and that's family. But you have to know that, if I do go away again, it won't be because of some elaborate scheme we've had to put in place. I'll never leave you for good."
Reid was nodding, and Emily saw acceptance in his eyes. He was, for now, reassured.
"I mean, you know, until I really do leave you for good," She lolled her head to the side and stuck out her tongue. That elicited a smile, and almost a laugh, from the younger agent. "Now, stop ruining our night. Drink your wine, and lets go find out what Rossi has planned for Hotch."
Arriving back at the table, they found the wine mopped up, Morgan pleading with Hotch. JJ looked slightly confused, like she didn't know how she ought to be responding.
"Come on, man," Morgan was saying, "You chose Truth; now you gotta do it, or accept the forfeit."
"Whoa, whoa, what did we miss?" Emily asked, as she slid back into her seat. Her first glass of cider was now miraculously empty; she supposed that was JJ's roundabout way of apologising for buying her an extra drink, and suppressed a short laugh as she pulled the second large glass to her lips.
"Hotch chose Truth, so I simply asked if there are any special ladies in his life at the moment that he's keeping mum about."
Emily nearly choked. Quick as a flash, even in her inebriated state, JJ's hand shot out and whacked her on the back, probably a little harder than she needed to, but it did the trick.
"Thanks," She muttered to JJ, "Sorry. Wrong tube."
Profilers. You're sitting at a table full of profilers. Don't look at Hotch. Do not look at Hotch. JJ stop looking at me. JJ stop looking at me. Jennifer Jareau, I swear to god-
"Not since Beth," Hotch responded, shortly. He raised his beer to his lips and, on that note, was finished with his truth telling.
Emily didn't know what to feel. She saw JJ cast a glance between the two of them, finally looking away from Emily, but she checked the expression on her own face; it didn't flicker. She shared the look of absent curiosity that graced Morgan and Reid's faces. Even Rossi seemed satisfied with the answer.
It bothered her. Emily hated that it did. She knew why he'd given that answer, or at least, she thought she did. But it bothered her. If not for the giant glass of cider sitting in front of her, and the entire team of profilers sitting around her, Emily would have excused herself to bed. She no longer wanted to sit at this table. Even though she knew he had to give that answer, even though she kept telling herself there was nothing more than lust between them, it bothered her.
"Your turn, boss," Morgan told Hotch, "Reid or Princess, who you going to pick on?"
The last thing Emily expected was for Hotch to choose her. So, when he looked directly at her, her eyes narrowed in warning.
Don't you-
"Prentiss," He said. levelly, "Truth or dare."
