December 3rd

Dear Silver Belle;

I don't think it's cheesy at all. In fact, I think it's sweet. That's what I want for my future. Well, assuming I ever settle down. I don't exactly have a great track record, but that's a long story. And this isn't about me.

I know you're probably not looking for advice right now, at least, not from a stranger with terrible handwriting. But here's my two cents: do those things. All of them. You don't need to have kids to feel like a kid again.

Go skating, even if you're bad at it and fall down a lot.

Get all dressed up and go to the ballet.

Find a friend and have a living room sleepover: eat popcorn and drink soda and stay up all night.

Find your inner child again. You deserve that.

- Pilgrim

PS: Turns out, you're a nerd. A correct one.

"What are you up to today?" JJ asked, surprised to find Emily up and out of her pyjamas. "Got a got date?" she teased.

Instead of answering, she asked, "Do you own ice skates?"

She raised a brow. "Ice skates?" she repeated. "Since when do you go ice skating?"

"Well, I don't exactly... It's just..." She sighed, gestured helplessly. "It was kind of a suggestion from my pen pal."

JJ's brows leapt up her forehead. "So, it's going well?" she asked, though she seemed to have a million other questions on her mind.

She shrugged.

"Do you even know how to skate?"

She shrugged again. "I want to take my kid skating when they get old enough... I figured I should learn now." She paused for a long moment. "Clyde was always talking about these bonding moments like teaching our child to skate, to drive...to walk. He was always holding my hand and I couldn't wait to see him hold our baby's hand through all the firsts, the scary moments, the big moments...all of it. Now, all this baby has is me. I have to be the steady hand."

JJ looked like there were so many things she wanted to say to her, but couldn't quite seem to narrow it down.

Emily paused, thought. "What do you think my chances of breaking something are on the ice?"

"I'll meet you at the emergency room when you fall, okay?" she said, kissing her cheek.

Emily sat on one of the rink-side benches, watching the skaters, suddenly self-conscious. She'd gotten so far as to get her skates on, but seemed to have reached some kind of stall. She was in the process of nervously wringing her hands and internally debating something when someone settled next to her and remarked, "We've got to stop meeting like this..."

She glanced up, one brow immediately arching. "Derek? What are you doing here?"

He gestured vaguely at the skating rink.

"Right. Of course." She glanced at the skaters so he wouldn't notice the way her cheeks pinked in embarrassment at her own stupid question. "I didn't realize you were into ice skating."

"Actually, I'm supervising the youth centre kids," he corrected. "I try to make some time for them whenever I'm in town...which isn't quite as often as I'd like lately." He paused. "What about you?"

She huffed, staring down at her feet as if they'd personally wronged her. She gestured at her skates. "Apparently nothing, considering I can't reach to tie my skates around my belly..."

He raised a brow. "Do you want some help?"

She pouted. "The last thing I need is the help from my annoying pest of a next door neighbour from when I was eight," she said haughtily.

"But do you want the help?"

She huffed again. "Yes please." She extended her feet in silent plea.

Smirking, he knelt down to tie the skates. "I didn't know you skated..."

"I don't," she said, "Well, I didn't. I, umm, I figured I should learn so I don't embarrass my little peanut."

Derek's eyes lit up. "Do you mean to tell me that the amazing Emily Prentiss doesn't know how to skate?"

Grumbling to herself, she admitted, "Technically speaking...no."

Struggling to keep his gloating under wraps, Derek offered, "Do you want me to help you?"

"No..."

"Really? Because I wouldn't want you to fall and hurt that little peanut..." he insisted.

She pursed her lips together, obviously not pleased with the turn this day had taken. At length, though, she declared, "Fine."

Standing up, he held out his hands to help her to her feet, holding her steady as she wobbled her way to the rink. Her grip on his hands was a little too tight to be comfortable, but he didn't complain, even as he was pretty sure his bones where cracking under the pressure.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"No," she insisted firmly. A beat. "Maybe."

He laughed a little, easily skating backwards as he supported her wobbling attempts at skating forwards. "Want to know my trick?"

She raised a brow, not looking all that thrilled by the prospect.

He told her anyway. "You have to pretend you're already good at skating."

She didn't seem to buy it.

"It's actually my trick to life," he continued. "Fake it 'til you make it." At her continued silence, he asked, "What? You don't believe me?"

"No, actually. There's a few holes in your plan," she insisted. She never met his gaze, though, too busy looking at her feet.

"Such as?"

She chanced a quick glance at his face...if only to fix him with an annoyed expression. "Childbirth."

For a few moments, he seemed dumbstruck. "Oh...well, you might actually be right about that. But it's the exception that proves the rule."

She scoffed.

There were several long moments of silence. "You're going to be a good mom, you know?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't get a chance because he burst out laughing. "What?"

"See? You're skating like a pro."

For a few moments, she sputtered, struggling to come up with a response to his gloating smile. "Yes, well...that's because you distracted me, not because I was applying your so-called rule..."

That didn't seem to phase him, though. He simply smirked at her like he'd won some kind of major victory. And damn if his smile wasn't convincing...