CHAPTER 139

HOW ABOUT WE GET OUT OF HERE?

"Round two?" Emily asked innocently.

"Ask me again, a little later tonight." Richard smirked.

She shook her head and grinned. He most definitely had one thing on his mind.

Raising her own empty cocktail glass, she made it a point that drinks were what she was suggesting. At least at that moment, anyways.

"No, I'm driving. You go for a second one if you wish, but I can't." He denied politely.

He had already had one drink and it was going to be a while after he'd leave the bar that he'd feel comfortable to be behind the wheel. He'd later on suggest a walk around the city, to get the alcohol tamed down a bit and he'd drink an entire bottle of water, just to make sure he'd be safe to drive. But, for the moment, he'd sit there and watch her enjoy a second drink.

"So, who here is a spy?" He leaned closer, whispering to her after she had described that bar as Spy Central, essentially.

If she liked playing this game, he'd play it willingly.

Emily had been scanning the room with dark eyes since the moment they'd stepped foot in the bar.

"Woman at three o'clock, with the green jacket. She's been here for seventeen minutes and she hasn't taken her jacket off, which points that she's waiting for a sign, so she'd make a quick escape. The way she's eyeing this guy in front of her suggests that she knows very little of him, like he's a new acquaintance, or this is possibly a work-related negotiation. And he surely acts fidgety, like he has something to hide and even better – something to lose. So, he must be the bad guy and she must be the one fishing for information. And let me tell you – she's good! That girl sure has a poker face and he hasn't yet sniffed her out, so she must be damn good at her job. Also-…"

Richard shut her up with a kiss. He had heard enough conspiracy theories.

"Or it might just be that I have a very vivid imagination and I'm seeing things. Either that, or the cocktails here are damn good." She chuckled, excusing her weird nerdy outburst.

Richard didn't comment.

A few minutes later Emily asked him to guard her drink while she made her way to the restrooms. As soon as she was out of sight, a certain young woman with a green coat approached Richard. Her drink companion had just left the bar.

"Deal is going down tomorrow at nine. There will be at least seven of his people, all armed." She whispered to Richard, careful not to get busted by Emily, if by any chance she came back too quickly.

"Thank you, Sasha. You were amazing out there. Well plaid. Now go back home to your husband. You still have that baby to try out for." He laughed, tapping her shoulder to congratulate her on the job well done.

Sasha was one of his best. She knew how to go undercover and she was ruthless. She'd never fail to provide.

"Thank you for ruining your original date plans, so you could be here to back me up tonight, Boss!" Sasha smiled.

"Oh and, damn, she's just as fine as before. Good job, Boss! Emily's a keeper despite, well, her being Lauren." She added cheekily before she made her way out of the bar.

Richard sighed. Maybe things were getting a little bit out of control, with all the lies, or rather – all the untold truths.

"Missed me?" Emily's voice startled him a few minutes later.

She was just on time, as Sasha was already out of the bar.

"You have no idea how much." He replied, but she had no idea what he really meant with those words.

"Now that I've learned my lesson to never mix and match alcohol again, and now that I'm pretty buzzed…can I ask you something?" Emily said right after taking yet another sip of the second drink she had ordered. It was sweeter than the first one, but sadly, much more alcohol-concentrated, so it was going straight to her head, even though she had just had a good dinner before that.

"Ask me anything you wish." He replied in French, to which she only batted her eyelashes. She adored his deep voice and his French accent.

"Did you think I'd ever call?" Her lower lip lingered against the side of her glass and she kept her eyes on him, waiting for a reply.

"You know, after that note-…" She tried to elaborate on it, but he knew very well what her question was referred to.

"I wasn't sure. I mean, the odds were slim and I am aware that I most definitely did not deserve a second chance…" He trailed off for a second, choosing his next words carefully.

"But I was hoping I'd be able to see you again. If things between us had to end, I'd hate it if they ended the way they did, in that hotel room." He said honestly and her heart broke a little bit.

"Now, can I ask you something?" He asked in turn and she nodded.

After giving her a long moment to get over his previous statement, he spoke up.

"Did you consider not making contact with me, ever again?" He asked and, in a way, Emily knew that this was the question he'd want to know the answer to.

Without much hesitation, she shook her head and it made him smile. No? She never considered cutting all contact with him?

"I wanted to be able to…" She then added. "I tried to tell myself not to contact you. But, again, I am a complicated person who always goes against everything that her better judgment is telling her to do, so I couldn't help it. I just needed some time. I wasn't ready to be myself, for the weeks after that time we spent together. I've had a rough time, I almost lost my job, other personal things were happening as well. I couldn't…I just didn't want to risk giving you a chance if I knew I wasn't in the right place to give myself a chance to be real with you. If that makes any sense…"

"It makes perfect sense…" He trailed off, just like she did, after her reply.

The way he understood her was amusing. It made it so much easier for her to open up and share things, knowing that he'd understand and feeling like she wouldn't get judged, even if he might turn out to have a different point of view about something she'd share. This wasn't a symbiosis that Emily Prentiss was familiar with, in a relationship. It was new and it felt weird, but also, kind of really good, too.

"I'm glad you reached out." He whispered and felt her lips, softly pressing against his own.

For a moment, he let himself lose all touch with reality, holding her against him and being on the receiving end of her spontaneous kiss. It wasn't an urged kiss. It wasn't staged. It wasn't rushed, hungry, desperate or uncalled for. And it wasn't one of her demonically passionate kisses – those she reserved for him when they were on their own, away from anyone's prying eyes.

It was…luscious. It was shamelessly heartfelt, agonizingly innocent, temptingly inviting, intimate, affectionate, but with a slight hint of shyness to it. Playful, but not violent. Deliciously warm and sensual. He could go on for hours, trying to pick the best words to describe her kiss, as long as she kept those lips where they were.

When she pulled away, she couldn't help but smile.

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"It's just…" She shrugged. "You look so happy."

"I am happy." He said without hesitation.

Oh, she had no idea how happy he really was, to finally be with her.

"This has been fun, but now that my favorite spy lady is no longer here…" Emily eyed the now empty table, where Sasha had sat earlier. "How about we get out of here?"

"You're just so damn sure that woman was a spy, aren't you?" He smirked.

"Trust me, I can spot a spy with my eyes closed. It's a blessing. And a curse, apparently." She chuckled.

If only she knew…

"Before we head back to the penthouse, would you fancy a walk? I don't think it would be wise for me to get a DUI if we get stopped by the police, especially since I don't even own the documents for this car just yet."

"What if someone attacks us in the dark?" Emily faked being scared, but in reality, she was almost kind of hoping something would happen.

She was an adrenaline junkie. Her entire life she had not known 'calm'. In fact, her 'calm' was the storm. She thrived in unexpected situations and maybe, just maybe, she wanted to face danger, so she'd be the one to save the day and, well, Richard's ass along the way. It would be so incredibly cool if her real identity and her job got revealed while she was facing someone in a dangerous situation, fighting for her life with bare hands. Richard would be so impressed, or so she believed. Although, it would be kind of unladylike if she'd be straddling some criminal, wearing that tiny little black dress and looking like a sappy spy from an old Hollywood movie, while on a date with Richard.

Maybe she'd have to put her wild spy dreams off to the next day when she'd get to act them out during the game they had signed up for. Maybe that evening she had a different type of game she wanted to play with Richard.

"Emily?" He repeated her name three times before she looked at him.

"Wow, you are such a daydreamer." He laughed.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen her zone out completely. God knows what this woman was thinking, but she seemed into it and out of the reality.

"Yeah, I guess you could say I am." She replied and they walked out of the bar.

He put his hand across her shoulders, holding her close to him as they walked down the street. It was a bit chilly, it was the perfect excuse to hold her so tight, not that she minded.

"I wish my life was anything like this…" She said dreamily, this time bringing him in on her little fantasy.

"Is there anything you could do, so it becomes this?"

"No. That would require me moving to Paris and that's not happening. I can't leave my family in the States. I mean, my colleagues. I've worked so hard to get the things I have and I am grateful for everything and everyone. I don't see myself ever trading it, for anything else." Emily spoke too fast. With a small glimpse at his face, she realized something. "Oh. Too honest?"

"No…" He muttered. "Just…too hard to swallow." He added.

"We don't have to figure it all out right now. Come on, we're trying to fit months of progress into one single day! This is unrealistic. I mean, yes, I know we only have limited time to be together, but we don't have to have all the answers, okay? I don't think I've ever had a plan, for any big thing I've done. All the good things I've had in life - and trust me, I can count those on half the fingers on one hand; have come to me in unexpected ways. We should just…let this be whatever it is going to be. Okay?"

Her enthusiasm was cute, but as much as she was a non-planner, go with the flow kind of a person, he already had a perfect plan to spend the rest of his life with her, under one roof, with their family. He had maybe let himself fantasize about it one too many times already, so now it scared him to realize just how far ahead he'd planned things out. He wanted her, he had always wanted her and nobody else. And now that she was his, there was no way he'd screw things up. He'd plan and he'd pray for everything to go smoothly when the truth would come out.

Maybe, in a way, all of his planning was his way of dealing with the inevitable flames that his truth-bomb would turn into. And the worst part was – he had no idea when and where that might happen. He couldn't control it and that freaked him out.

The next thing she knew, it was now her on the receiving end of a surprising kiss.

They stopped walking, now standing on the corner of some small street and the main boulevard they were walking down on. There was a construction site to their right and the window of an expensive clothing brand shop, to their left. It was the most random, unromantic place in the entire city, but somehow, it worked for them. They made it work.

Emily felt her back against the wall, as Richard took a step towards her, without breaking the kiss. With one hand, Emily got rid of the tacky headband on her head. If she was going to enjoy a moment with Richard, she wanted to look nothing like her spy self – nothing like Lauren.

"I swear…" He said breathlessly. "If I ever lose you…"

He didn't have to finish that sentence. She knew. She had already figured out how invested Richard was, in that newly formed relationship.

"Can we get to the apartment already?" God bless Emily Prentiss and that beautiful soul of hers, but she didn't mean to sound so impatient…so desperate. All she wanted was him. And, maybe a bed…with cushions. She was a simple gal: low maintenance, but even shorter patience span.

He complied, because at that point, he was done walking around and he was done giving a crap about being stopped, driving a car that legally was not his property yet, after having had a strong cocktail. The Hell with it all.

The drive back home turned out to be a bit of a blur, not because of the alcohol – he was sure he was perfectly fine to drive by the time he was behind the wheel; but because of her.

It was a sports car, meaning there was only that much space inside. She was close to him, dangerously close, and he could feel her perfume with each time he took a breath. It was suddenly really strong, really inviting. He found it hard to resist her, especially after the few things she had whispered in his ear right after they had gotten in the car. She was a tease. She was merciless. To him, she was everything and more.

His hands worked the zip of her black dress from the second they were inside the private elevator, in his building complex. She almost let the garment slip down, but he held it up, against his own will.

"There's cameras…" He pointed out, breathlessly.

Being in a small, confined space, with Emily Prentiss, looking like the hot mess that she currently was, drove him insane.

"See if I care!" She challenged him and tugged on his belt.

In reality, she did care - she would never be caught doing something stupid, in public, or on camera anyways. She just liked how nonchalant her words came out, plus, she knew they only had a floor and a half left until they'd be on their own, with no cameras around, so it was about the right time that her dress had to go.

"Good God, Emily…" He groaned, feeling her hand push his chest lightly, yet impatiently.

"I can assure you God has nothing to do with what happens next…" She smirked.

Did she not know that her words, her little mind games, the things she hinted at, made him absolutely lose his mind?

He closed his eyes, taking the next few steps towards the bedroom on autopilot, until he found himself straddled by her, in his own bed, just seconds later, as he opened his eyes again.

His hands slid up, on the side of her body, adoring her every curve. She had an insane body, it almost didn't look real that someone over the age of twenty would look the way she did. But there she was – with his hands now pressed against her hips as she leaned down for a kiss. This time, it was a hungry kiss, a long, passionate, kiss. She didn't need to hold back now, as nobody was watching.

He'd already figured this much – Emily was most comfortable being herself when they were on their own. Maybe that was why she didn't want to tell him about her job? Maybe she just needed a little bit of time, to figure out who she was, with him by her side, before she's tell him who she was, with her team by her side? It made perfect sense.

Then again, at that very moment, a fly swallowing an entire shark would make perfect sense, too.

She was mesmerizing. She had neutralized him, like he was the enemy. She had him pinned down, underneath her, compliant with her every wish and command and she wasn't even saying a damn word. She was unarmed, too. How the Hell did she have all that power over him?

"God, Emily!" He could not help those words rolling off his tongue when he realized where her hands had wandered off to, while he was lost in his thoughts.

"Shhh…" She chuckled. "While I can't deny the alluring aspect of a third person involved, I'd rather be calling out someone else's name instead."

"Stop…" He tried to warn her.

"Maybe not a male name, though…?" She continued anyway.

Was she crazy? Even if there was truth to what she had just shared, as a desire, why would she tell him that? Was she just joking? Oh, he needed to know if this was only just a joke!

"Emily…" He tried to say with authority. He tried his best to make her stop talking, but she just would not do so.

Instead, she leaned in and continued whispering things in his ear. Yes, she was a merciless killer, who did not need a weapon. She was deadly enough, the way she was.

"Shut up…" He almost laughed, because it was either that or losing it completely.

She did no such thing. The teasing continued until that one specific moment in which Emily was sure that if she did not stop, he'd most definitely pass out. With a devious chuckle, she finally let him take what was now rightfully his – her heart, her soul, her affection and something else of hers that was eager to satisfy…and be satisfied.

"BRYAAAAAAAAAAAAN?" Angie yelled when she finally got to the Auditorium for her Monday morning theory class, after having spent the early morning hours with JJ.

"Are you set out to give me a freaking heart attack?" He laughed, walking over to her, hoping that would shut her up or at the very least – tame her loud voice down a bit.

"I need something urgently!"

"If you need my soul, you should know that it already belongs to you. You've snatched it out of my chest, probably one of those early mornings that you woke me up for some extra jogging time." He said, still laughing, as they walked over to their seats and got ready for the class.

"I need to use your Amazon Prime and your credit card again. Please? I think it might be something expensive, but I promise one day I'll pay you back all the money you've spent on me. Please?"

"Wow, it sure seems like this thing is urgent…" He couldn't help but worry a little bit.

Angie's face was red - she had run from the main building to the Academy, just so she could have those spare two minutes, to talk to him about her request before their class would start.

"Yes, it's very urgent! Well, okay, maybe not to a normal person, but it is to me. And I'd really appreciate it if you said Yes. Please?" She asked sweetly.

"It was a 'Yes' since the moment you said you need something. And don't worry about the money, I don't want you to pay me back. Get whatever you need. Now shut up, class is starting." He pointed at the teacher who was now ready, with the first slide of his presentation showing on the board.

When the class finished there was a gap of thirty minutes, during which time Dan re-appeared. He spoke to the Trainees about their final projects. Each one of them was required to either write a thesis, which would be the case for those ones like Angie, who were interested in the psychological aspect of the job; or prepare a project, which was for the ones like Bryan who were either more athletic-oriented, or the ones who were after a career as technical analysis, laboratory staff, and so on.

Angie had the option to make a project, as well, but she chose the thesis. There was something very specific that she wanted to write about and luckily for her, she already had tons of material ready to be assembled into a thesis. Over the years, she had read, but also written a lot of pieces on that subject and she just needed to combine them, edit things out and add some more, and her final thesis would be ready. This was a great advantage, especially since she had so much pressure at the Academy and so little time to do anything other than attend classes and then get ready to attend more classes the day after.

Other Trainees would surely write something up and hand it in, hoping it would go. But not Angie. She was a perfectionist up to the point where it was annoying. She needed this thesis to be something that the Academy would remember, rather than just a few pages of 'whatever', that would get tossed in the trash once she graduated.

Dan informed them about the specifics and the deadlines for handing thesis subjects and project suggestions in. Each Trainee had to be paired with a working Special Agent or one of their Academy Trainers, who would overlook every step of their work process. Dan needed the names of those Agents by the end of the week, along with the title of the thesis or the subject of the project.

Angie was excited about this. She had known all along that the Academy was kind of like University, where she had also been asked to write a final thesis, as part of her graduation process. In fact, she had been smart enough to write on the one specific topic that interested her, which meant that she almost had it ready to use now, for the Academy as well. It would hardly be cheating, since it was her who had written it after all. It had just happened a while back. Plus, she had fresh new ideas for things to add and things to edit out, so she still needed to spend a solid amount of time on her thesis even now.

All that was left to do now was to send in her thesis name and the name of the person who would be following her while she wrote it. That, itself, created two problems for her.

One - there was only one person she'd ever want to ask and said person was currently on another continent. Angie could only hope they'd be back by the end of the week.

Two - there was no chance in Hell that person would be allowed to read Angie's thesis. They had to sign blindly, and then they had to have faith that Angie would do a banging good job at writing the entire thing.

It was personal, it was like a closely guarded secret that Angie wanted to write about, to get it off her chest, and to have nobody read it along the way.

By the time Emily and Richard could take a breath and take their hands off of each other, it was already three o'clock at night. The room was now full of sweet little secrets that they would both keep revisiting in their memories until the next time they'd be able to meet up and create even more memories of that kind.

Emily grabbed her phone from the night stand on her side of the bed and, with her head resting against Richard's bare chest, she scrolled through the messages that she had heard come in earlier, when it had been practically impossible for her to care enough to check them out, given the sweet distraction she had been enjoying.

Among the few work-related updates, she found one message that she felt the need to reply to, instantly.

"Hi, I need to ask you something. Can you, please, call me back when it's a good time? Thanks. XOXO, Angela."

She smiled knowingly. Or at least she thought she knew what Angie wanted to ask her. Clara had already mentioned to Emily that Angie wanted the three of them to hang out, together.

"Hey, if you need to make a phone call, go ahead." Richard said softly, his hands brushing against Emily's bare stomach.

"Yeah, sorry. I can't make this person wait…" She smiled and dialed Angie's number.

It was evening for Angie and she was now sitting at the lounge, in the dorms building, with her new laptop on her feet, typing away and coming up with a perfectly detailed structure for her new and improved thesis.

"Bonsoir!" Angie picked up right away.

"Bonsoir. I'm surprised your phone is on. I'm surprised you even know where it is." Emily laughed.

Angie had come to the Academy, owning a phone, which she had forgotten all about and never touched again. Then, Emily had insisted on buying her a phone, which Angie had never really used. The few messages that Emily had sent her, got visualized days after they had been sent. Angie was just not a fan of phones, apparently.

"Tell me about it! I'm actually only using it now because I have a question for you and I can't just pop by the office and ask you."

Emily gulped, realizing it was now Monday evening for Angie and she had completely forgotten to warn her that she wouldn't be able to make it to their training that morning.

"It's okay, JJ and I went training together. It was nice, I'm kind of glad you weren't here today." Angie smirked. Of course she'd profile Emily's silence, even on the phone, and of course she'd anticipate what was on Emily's mind.

"I'm sorry. Things got…" Emily trailed off.

She hadn't left the bed, she figured she didn't need to. Even if Richard overheard something, Emily wouldn't care. Angela was not someone she was keen on hiding.

"Heated?" Angie smirked, offering Emily a word to end her sentence.

"In a way." Emily smirked as well, feeling that warm circular motion of Richard's hand, still on her stomach.

"Please don't use protection! We'd love to have a mini Prentiss running around the BAU and making everyone go absolutely bonkers!" Angie chuckled and her words made Emily gasp.

"Oh, like we don't already have one?" Emily said challengingly.

Everyone kept on referring to Angie as Mini Prentiss, after the Big-Little week. Garcia had originally come up with the nickname and it kind of stuck.

"Oh, like you don't enjoy it?" Angie said cheekily. "Ok now, listen, I'm sorry I have to ask you at this time of the night-…"

"It's barely late in the evening, not a problem." Emily tried to play her, pretending she was in the US, but she had no idea who she was messing with.

"Girl, okay, it's like 3:12 in Paris right now, don't screw around! At least not with me, anyway."

"Ugh, Angela…" Emily could picture Angie smirking victoriously as she so casually figured out exactly where Emily was.

"Anyway. The point is, since you're awake at that time at night, I can only assume you're in a very and I mean very good mood. So, I also assume it wouldn't be a problem if I asked you to do something for me…"

"Out with it, young girl! Stop messin' around!" Emily laughed out loud. She was impatient and Angie was building it up as if she was about to ask Emily to buy her a private jet or a tropical island.

"Fine, I'll let you get back to French Daddy quickly…"

"Angela!" Emily almost shouted. She was praying that Richard wouldn't have overheard those words and, from a glimpse at his face, he didn't seem to have. Then again, he had a poker face that could beat even Emily's, but she didn't know that. Yet.

"Alright! Jesus, don't rush things." Angie was still stalling. She enjoyed every second of misery that it gave Emily.

"I've started working on my final thesis and I need someone to supervise it. But here's the thing – I don't want them to read it while I write. Or, ever, possibly. So, the person I ask must be really okay with the idea that they're only signing their name on my paper and then letting me do my own damn thing and-…."

"Yes, Angela, I will supervise your thesis." Emily just came out and said it, interrupting Angie's desperate speech.

She remembered the struggle Angie had been through, asking her for that one week – Big-Little Week. This was turning into a similar mess and Angie was surely about to spiral and to keep on talking on the phone until the morning.

"Oh, really!? I mean, you're cool with not even knowing what my thesis would be about?"

"Yes, Angela. I have faith that you'd produce something amazing, so if you don't want me to read it, I don't care. I'll sign your papers and you can write about whatever you want. Is that all?" Emily said a bit impatiently.

"Yes!" Angie said triumphantly. "Wait, no. There's also the thing where I kind of asked Clara if we can go hang out and do dumb American cliché things together. I mean, Clara and me and also you, if that's okay…"

Emily's heart skipped a beat. After the night she had spent with Richard, she didn't think her heart could take any more emotions, but Angie was right there to prove her otherwise.

"I would love to." She replied shortly, only because there weren't any words that could describe what she felt inside.

"Cool, now go get yourself some good time with French Daddy. And don't forget to get me a present or I'll be pissed!" Angie chuckled.

She would never ask for anything, except if it was about Paris. She loved the city and she'd jump at the chance to ask for a present, although a 'present' in her case was not connected to spending money. She'd be more than happy to receive even just a postcard.

"Already have!" Emily smiled, her eyes glancing over to the side of the bedroom where her suitcase was. On top of it, she had displayed something cute that she had bought for Angie in the boutique, earlier that day.

"Oh, you naughty little-…" Angie started, but Emily had to cut her off.

"I meant the present, Angela! I already bought you a present!" Emily pointed out, but then regretted it. If Angie was so keen on playing dirty, Emily would not back down.

"Although, same could be said for your other suggestion…multiple times." Emily added, hearing a silent 'eww' on the other side of the line.

Angie had asked for it. Emily had warned her that she'd never win the game of talking inappropriately, not against her. And so far, she was still the champion, no matter how hard Angie tried to make her squirm, in turn.

"I am now scarred, for life. Thank you for the visual. Goodbye." Angie cut the call short before Emily would be able to say anything else.

Their relationship sure was weird. It looked like it had gone from zero to a thousand, straight from the first moments they had started to hang out with each other. Angela was already a straight shooter, not scared to tell Emily which clothes of hers were 'nun clothes' and which lipstick made her look more 'smoochable', but then Emily was also not afraid to shoot the truth in Angie's face. It almost felt like they had a non-verbal agreement – to be themselves, to show nothing but their true colors to one another. And, in the strangest of ways, it worked for them.

REVIEW REPLIES:

"rmpcmfan" Yes, I'm back to updating, as I now have access to my files. You are absolutely right about Angie's strategy to talk a lot and to say basically nothing of importance. It's a psychological thing - the other person hears you pour a gigantic amount of information on them and they don' t realize you never answered their original question…or if they do realize, they don't even dare ask you once again, as you will pour this much more information on them again and they are already done listening to your monologue lol. It works for Angie and JJ seemed to not warm up to her tricks. LOOOOOL about the HR comment, wooord! Now about Angie and kids…you may be on to something here, Detective :) Her childhood trauma is something she never admitted to and it haunts her through the years. Now about having kids and being a mother…good analytical skills here. Those CAN be two completely different concepts.

"Ducksdragonfly" Yup, Angie seems to be making effort to patch things up with JJ, no matter how hard it is for her. And JJ is completely oblivious to the REAL reason why Angie is being so distant and can't even look JJ in the eyes, while she is perfectly able to form a connection with every other BAU member.

"sweetkid45" Yeah, Angie and JJ have this strained relationship and at times Angie tries to make up for it, but something always holds her back.