Chapter Thirty-Seven

The problem with no longer having a job...was that she no longer had a job. Emily had to stick a few weeks out at the office until Clyde could come back full time, but that was mostly paperwork, and half of the paperwork was about her resignation. There were a few meetings, but they didn't throw anything too taxing at her, knowing she was leaving, so by the time her end date came about, Emily was relieved to hand over the keys to the office to Clyde. But once that was done with, once she was unemployed, she found herself with nothing at all to do and much too much time on her hands. Her apartment had never been cleaner, so clean that she found she had very little reason to clean it. She'd never spent so much time in the gym, resulting in the abs she'd always wanted finally peeking through; she was going to give JJ a run for her money. And she finally took the time to learn a few of Rossi's famous family recipes.

"You're finding a lot of time to cook, caro," He once commented, as she garbled down the phone about garlic quantities and was it spring onion or red onion she was supposed to pick up from the store?

"No more so than usual." She lied, squinting and scrunching up her nose as soon as the lie passed her lips. Never lie to a profiler. And never, ever lie to David Rossi. "Hey, I just finished your new book-" She began, trying to distract him. Talking about himself usually worked, but not this time.

"Emilia." Rossi's tone wasn't quite a warning, but it told her firmly that he didn't believe her. He knew she was lying. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

Us. He always spoke of us. Emily knew none of her conversations with the team were private. Well, perhaps with the exception of JJ. Each little bit of news, she knew, was shared amongst them, probably discussed over the conference table, or on the jet, while whoever had replaced her sat there looking confused and was probably internally rolling their eyes. Emily knew perfectly well what that felt like; when she first started at the BAU, each time somebody mentioned Elle, she used to the internal eye-roll, too. It was the right of the new person to hate their predecessor, it was almost a law.

"How much cilantro was I supposed to put into the linguine?" She asked, dipping a spoon into the sauce and bringing it to her lips, cursing when the liquid burnt her tongue.

"Just enough that it enhances the flavour of the lemon. Not too much." Rossi's instructions were never very exact; he insisted that all of his recipes were family ones, and that nobody used exact measurements. Emily insisted that she didn't have Rossi's natural palette and ability to blindly add spices and come out with a perfect meal. She thought she had actually succeeded in distracting him, but David Rossi's mind was as sharp as ever, and she wasn't getting off the hook that easily. "Now are you going to tell me, or not?"

Emily sighed. "You're not dropping this, are you?" His silence on the other end of the line was enough confirmation for her. "Okay. Fine. I got fired. Oh, and Isla and I broke up."

"You what!?"

"Okay, that's not exactly true." Emily turned down the burner as she turned and folded her free arm across her chest, tucking her hand beneath her forearm. "Clyde turned up at the office a few weeks ago. He said he could tell it wasn't working out and that I should quit. He was right."

"So you just...quit?" Rossi, on the other end of the phone, was perplexed. She told him again, the same story in different words, omitting the part about her being miserable and doing an awful job because of it. He didn't need that burden on his conscience. "You're telling me you're living in London and you're unemployed?"

"I'm hardly down on my luck, Rossi." That much, at least, was true. Over the years, Emily's trust fund had barely decreased, since she had been working straight out of college. More so, it had been garnering interest. "I'm fine. I'm enjoying the time off, actually." It wasn't a total lie. The cooking was great, the gym was great. She'd see more of London in the past few weeks than she had the whole time she'd been living here, what with all of the free time to go jogging or walk along the river. Hell, she'd even finally been up on the London Eye. "I'm having fun."

"You're not having fun, Emily. You're losing your mind. You're miserable and you're lonely. What are you doing, still living there, when you don't have a job or a girlfriend anymore? What is keeping you there?" He demanded, in a very fatherly tone that made Emily want to curl up with shame. "You know there's a job waiting here for you, and a family that misses you. So what are you waiting for? Get on a plane."

"Rossi, I can't just walk into the bullpen and demand my job back!" She laughed, shortly, "That's not how it works. Hotch isn't just going to fire whoever took over my job because I stomp my foot and click my fingers."

"He never replaced you."

Her wry smile faltered a moment, and she frowned. "What?"

"I said, he never replaced you, Emily. He never hired anybody else. Your job is waiting for you, if you want it."

He never replaced you. The words swam in Emily's brain. She hadn't for a minute thought she could just step right back into her life in Virginia; that was what she had tried to do last time, and that hadn't worked out very well for her. But knowing her job was waiting for her, her family was waiting for her...Emily's resolve faltered. It won't be the same. It never would be, ever again, she knew. She couldn't just step back into her old life.

"I-I can't." She stuttered. Just as she was trying to think of a way to explain to him why, there came a sudden burning smell. "Shit. Rossi, I have to go, my pasta's burning."

"Emily, think about it." Rossi was short but succinct before he hung up the phone.

The pasta was salvageable, but only just, and not five minutes later, Emily slid down her wall, a large bowl of the comfort food in her hands. It wasn't as good as Rossi's would have been, but it never was. She was always missing something. It wasn't raining tonight, but there was a soft mist over the Thames, giving it an ethereal sort of glow. Emily watched people wander along it's banks, making up stories for each of them in her head.

On the table, her phone buzzed. She ignored it. That couple, she mused, were probably newlyweds, talking about the amazing life they were going to have together. Her phone buzzed again. And that girl, walking with her arms wrapped around herself, had probably just been broken up with. Buzz. She glanced at the table, frowning with a mouth full of chicken, but didn't move. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Damn it, Rossi." She scolded him, setting her bowl down on the floor and shoving herself to her feet. There was a barrage of messages.

There was Spencer's hopeful 'You quit your job? That means you're coming home, right?' which tugged on her heartstrings and made her remember just how much she missed him. He was the one she hadn't seen in the longest; she wondered how long his hair had gotten.

Penelope's 'I can't believe it. Do you want me to check flight times for you?' was equally as hopeful, though she had thrown in a little bit of cheek there, nudging Emily in the direction she wanted her to go.

Derek was simple, but inquisitive, 'Coming home, Princess? What happened with Isla?' His question made her squirm. She was going to have to come up with a reason for that, because there was no way in hell she was going to tell any of them the truth. Not only because of how they'd look at her, but because of how they'd look at Hotch. JJ was the only person who could ever know that little secret.

Rossi wasn't even sorry for the shit storm he had caused. Instead, he seemed rather proud of himself, boldly admitting that 'I told the team. They're all very excited to have you back.' Yes, proud and overly-confident.

Hotch was hurt, which hurt her. His 'Why didn't you tell me?' stared at her like an accusation.

And, finally, JJ's simple 'Call me.'

Seeming like the least exhausting option, she pressed the green phone at the top of JJ's contact and listened to the ring. On the second one, JJ picked up.

"Hi, Em."

"Hi, Jayje, listen, I've not made any decisions yet about what I'm doing, I-"

"Em, can we talk about that later?" Emily was relieved, closing her eyes and exhaling, long and slow. She was so relieved, she missed the excited tone in JJ's voice.

"Yes, thank you. I didn't even mean for you guys to all find out, I was on the phone to Rossi and I-"

"Emily." JJ's voice was urgent, with a laugh behind her name. Emily paused. "I'm pregnant."

A beat of silence as JJ's words processed in her mind, then a beaming smile spread across Emily's face. "JJ, oh my god!" She said, beginning to pace across the apartment, suddenly full of excited energy and nothing to do with it. "Oh my god, congratulations! It's about time!"

"I know, I know! Thanks, Em," She could hear JJ's smile in her voice. Pressing a hand to her chest, over her heart, Emily felt her eyes well up. She wished she could see JJ in person, give her a hug, see the happiness she knew she would see in her best friend's eyes. "I just found out a few minutes ago and we wanted you to be the first to know. Well, there's that, and...Will's asked me to marry him, again."

"Oh?" Emily raised her eyebrows. Will had asked a few times and, each time, JJ had turned him down. Emily hadn't understood why, when they already had Henry, and seemed so blissfully happy. But JJ, she knew, had her reasons.

"I said yes."

Her tears flowed freely now, as Emily slid back down the wall, grinning from ear to ear. "Jen, I'm so, so happy for you guys." JJ could hear the tears in her friend's voice, and they made her own come hard and fast. Her throat stuck when she tried to talk, and she had to cough to clear it.

"I want you here for the wedding. But we wanted to do it soon. We just want something small, maybe at Rossi's. You'll come, won't you?" There was a desperation in JJ's voice, a fear that Emily would say no. It touched Emily's heart, and she knew JJ was thinking about the situation with Hotch. Emily was nodding.

"Em?"

"Jayje, of course I will. I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Okay, good." JJ paused, and Emily could tell she was biting her lip when she next spoke, her words coming out playful and musical. "Because we wanna do it this weekend."

"You-what?" Emily sat up, checking her watch. "JJ, it's 7pm on Friday night. You want me to-" She sighed, "You've gotta get off the phone, I need to text Penelope and tell her to book me on a flight! God, you're a pain in my ass, Jennifer Jareau."

"Soon to be Jennifer Lamontagne."

"Ew, really?"

"Absolutely not." She laughed, heartily, and Emily could hear the glee, the relief, in her voice. "I love you, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You better hope there's a flight." Emily rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "I love you, too."