Chapter Four:
A/N: I'm still learning the format on this site so I haven't been able to reply to any comments, but know they're appreciated. Someone recently said that Blake was like a really cool English teacher and I think that's why I like writing her so much.
My phone rings again on the plane. I'm half-tempted to curse whoever it is halfway into tomorrow because I had finally gotten to sleep.
"Merde. Connard, what do you want?" I ask, half asleep.
"I may not be a linguist but that wasn't very nice Alex," Garcia's voice says.
"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," I say sheepishly.
"Emily? Wishful thinking there Dr. Blake. Or should I call you Doctor Miller, now?"
"Dr. Blake is fine. I've gone by Blake so long I see no reason to change."
"Well, rest assured your secret is safe with me."
A pent-up breath I didn't know I'd been holding leaves my mouth.
"However, our mutual friend has informed me that you dear, grabbed the wrong go-bag."
"Shit."
"You know for someone who's supposed to be good with words, you sure say that one a lot."
"Garcia, these are her shirts."
"And?"
My hand ruffles through the clothes as silently as possible, careful not to wake the rest of the team. Silk shirts in varying jewel tones, skin-tight jeans, and boxers. Who the hell brings this on the job? I make a mental note to berate Emily over her wardrobe choices when I notice there are no sports bras. Lacy push-ups alone would be a problem. But this, this was a disaster.
"I can't wear this stuff. I don't know how she does."
"She told me it was all clean when she messaged me earlier. Although, I don't know why she didn't just call you. Anyways, JJ's still on leave. You really think the boys will notice?"
"Maybe. Spence will at least, and at the worst possible time."
"You could tell him." He's sleeping peacefully in the corner, unkempt hair hanging close to his eyes.
"She asked me not to." And we don't lie to each other, I silently say.
"I don't know what to tell you, Em has a very distinct style. No offense but I think they'd notice if you suddenly stopped wearing turtlenecks."
"Garcia, I want you to know I'm glowering over the phone."
"Maybe it'll be good for you to wear something form-fitting. You've got a nice shape, Alex. Not like I look at it but not like I don't. You know what, supreme ruler of all out."
"Garcia, wait." Shit.
"Everything ok, Blake?" Hotch's wary voice asks.
"Wonderful." I muster. He doesn't seem to believe me.
I'm given a small mercy when the plane lands and we don't have time to change. My fingers pick at my navy sweater until the fabric starts to wear off.
The precinct isn't prepared for all the attention this case is getting. Hotch and Morgan are debating calling JJ. But after recent events, I try to say it's an awful idea. She really did need to rest. And to be kept away from Emily. Nothing is done tonight, as I expected so we pile into the SUV to head to the local motel.
The first thing I do is take a hot shower. The second thing is to realize that these aren't my shower products. Coconut shampoo and fancy French lavender body wash. Neither of which I'd ever buy. If this wasn't such a comedy of errors, it'd be almost enjoyable. A staycation into someone else's life.
I emerge from the warmth smelling eerily like the person I'd left behind twelve hours ago. Lavender, Coconut, and Shea.
The phone rings again, a small part of me wants to leave it in someone else's bag for the night. I've never liked phone calls. The information they relayed and the people on the other line were never my favorite. Letters. I was a letter kind of woman. I think it was how James had originally won me over, despite my lack of interest.
"Garcia, if this is another rant about my wardrobe I don't want to hear it."
"Hey, Alex it's me."
"Oh, hey Emily." Shit.
"I'm sorry about the bag, I tried to tell you before you left."
"It's fine. I'm just glad you have something to change into. JJ told me about the case earlier. It sounds awful. I'm sorry."
"It's been hard. Especially since they look so much like me." Emily's breath catches at this. Almost as if she hadn't expected to hear the words come out of my mouth.
"Alex, I told JJ. That I'm. That I'm a Lesbian." Her voice breaks into the phone.
"What'd she say?" I've bitten my nails down into bloody stubs. So I bite my lip instead.
"Um. She said she needed some time to think. That it was a shock."
"Oh, Em. I'm so sorry." The sound of her quiet sobs sends shivers down my spine.
"Me too. I almost wish I hadn't told her."
"She just needs some time. You're her best friend. Maybe she's hurt that you never told her in all the years you've known each other."
"If only," Emily says.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You see the bad side in everything."
"Where do you get your optimism from Dr. Blake?"
"I've taught college students for years. You need optimism to make it through the semester. Trust me."
"Where are you teaching this semester?" She's recovered some of that aloofness I'd come to eagerly expect.
"Georgetown. James, wanted me to teach at Harvard but I had another offer."
"Georgetown, wow. I've been doing some thinking."
"Famous last words."
"I think I want to stay, in DC I mean. I'm so tired of London. I've been thinking of teaching, actually. Or something else, I don't know. Hotch and I talked about me returning to the team earlier."
"Oh?"
"But it's just an idea." She sounds frail. Not like the Emily the others had told me stories of. The one with no fear or shame.
"I think it's a good one, whatever you want to do. It'll be a good choice because it was made by you."
"I-. Thanks, Alex. You always know what to say." That sounded like something you'd tell your aunt. Or your mother for advice she'd given you as a tween. What did she see me as?
"Emily, you know we're more alike than you think."
"Oh?"
"Erin and I. We were a thing years and years ago. I told James it was just a phase. But, um it wasn't. He was the phase."
"Thank you for telling me Alex. I'm glad you trust me."
"You're easy to talk to."
"Not too bad yourself, Blake. Get some sleep, I've bothered you long enough. Good night."
"Wait Em, where are the pajamas?" Damn, what is it with people hanging up on me?
I find them tucked into the back and almost bust into laughter. A loose Georgetown tee and a pair of soft shorts, it couldn't have been more perfect if I'd picked it myself.