Derek unlocked the front door to Emily's row house and stepped inside. He set his tools down and looked around, picturing in his mind what the space would look like after he ripped out all the inner walls. He liked what he saw and knew Emily had made the right choice. Since she was going to be out of the country for the next couple of days and he had some free time on his hands so he decided to start on the demolition. He was hoping he would have all the heavy lifting done by the time she got back. Derek knew she wanted to help him but he was still concerned about her shoulder because he had observed her rubbing it when she thought no one was watching. Even though the doctor had cleared her and had said the collarbone was completely healed, he didn't want her to re-injure it in any way. Emily would probably be annoyed with him for proceeding without her but there will still be plenty for her to help with.
Someone knocking on the front door snapped the dark agent out of his musing. He turned around and opened it to find two teenagers standing on the doorstep. One was a red head and the other was a muddy brown. Both boys were dressed in old looking clothes and were carrying sledgehammers.
"Agent Morgan?" the red head asked.
"Yes," Derek answered, trying to place where he had seen him before.
The teenager held out his hand. "I'm Russ Hammond—"
"Russ. Of course," Derek said, his face lighting up in recognition. So this is Emily's unofficial adoptive son. He gave the boy's hand a hardy shake. "It's a pleasure to finally to get to meet you. I heard some nice things about you."
And both were true. Even though he had learned of Russ' continued presence in Emily's life by accidentally finding the photos she carried of him, Derek knew very little about the teenager besides him being a great shortstop and having a difficult aunt. Emily was very protective of him as she was with Declan and it has gotten worse after Doyle. After the first chat, getting her to talk about the young man was like pulling teeth. It hinted that she still didn't fully trust him and he doubted that she ever would. The distrust of everyone was too deeply ingrained in her psyche to ever go away. Well, now he had the chance to get to know this boy who was important to his best friend.
"Same here, Sir," Russ said.
He was just as eager to get to know the agent. So far he had only gotten to meet Agent Rossi and he liked him a lot. Emily didn't like to talk about her work. All he knew for sure was that she worked for the BAU and who her coworkers were. She always said she liked to keep her personal life separate from her professional life. But he always suspected that it was her way of protecting him from the horrors she has witnessed while on the job. Russ was also curious about the five months she had been away but he didn't ask her because he was sure she wouldn't tell him. Maybe Agent Morgan would.
Derek grinned at the sir. "You can call me Derek," he said. "So how can I help you guys?"
"Actually we're here to help you, Age…Derek," he explained. "Emily said you were planning on gutting the inside of her new house so Jimmy and I," he gestured to his friend, "came over to see if you could use a second pair of hands."
Derek considered the offer. Having two young strong backs around would be a definite plus, especially with hauling the appliances to the dumpster out back.
"Sure but do you mind if I ask you why?"
Russ locked eyes with him. "Emily has done a lot for me over the years," he said, thinking of a particular time. "And now I want to do something for her."
Fifteen-year-old Russ stood nervously outside of Emily's apartment. His mind was in turmoil. He shouldn't have come here, but he had no one else he could turn to for help. He raised his hand to knock, lowered it then raised it again.
Just do it, he chided himself. What's the worst that could happen? She could say no, his mind told him. Or she could say yes, he shot back.
"Well there's one way to find out," he muttered aloud and knocked three times.
A few anxious minutes passed before the door swung open to reveal Emily's smiling face. Her smile quickly faded when her eyes took in the troubled teenager standing on her doorstep.
"Russ, what's wrong?" she asked in concern.
"Ca…can I come in?" he stammered.
"Of course," she said, stepping back and opening the door wider.
Russ shuffled past her with his head down, shoulders hunched and his hands shoved in his pockets. Emily closed the door and followed him. She stopped next to the kitchen island and gazed at the teenager shifting from foot to foot by the couch.
"What's wrong?" she asked again.
He looked everywhere but at her and muttered something too low for her to hear. She leaned forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch that."
"I need to borrow some money," Russ repeated a little louder.
Emily sagged back against the island. Oh, god! He got a girl pregnant, was the first thought that popped into her head. She immediately flashed back to her own predicament at that same age. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. I can handle this. I have experience in this.
"How much do you need?"
He continued to stare at his feet. "Seven thousand dollars."
She blinked in surprise at the amount then breathed a mental sigh of relief. No pregnancy scare, at least, but after the relief, she frowned. Why did he need that much money? That sum was perfect for buying a used car but Russ didn't know how to drive. If that was what he wanted, she wasn't going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Driving fell squarely in his Aunt Helen's domain. If she got involved in that then the fragile truce between her and the aunt would be blown out of the water.
"Why such a large sum?" she asked.
This time he looked up at her and she saw the pain in his green eyes. "My father died and I want to bury him."
Emily's eyes softened. "I'm so sorry, Russ."
He nodded stiffly. "Aunt Helen won't pay for his funeral because she never liked him. If no one claims him, Dad will be…"
He'll be buried in Potter's field with no headstone to mark his passing, she silently added. "It's yours," she said aloud.
Russ broke off and stared at her. "What?"
"I said I would pay for the funeral."
He was still having difficulty comprehending that she had agreed. He had been so sure she would say no. After all Emily didn't know his father from Adam so why would she want to spend her hard earned money on him?
"Why?" he asked. "You don't know my Dad."
Emily went over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "No, I don't," she said softly. "But I do know that he is your father. You still love him even after all the bad stuff and," she gave his shoulder a squeeze, "you want to do right by him by making sure he has a proper burial."
"My Aunt isn't going to be happy that you gave me the money."
"You leave your Aunt Helen to me."
"Thanks, Emily," Russ said and wrapped his arms around her.
She pulled him in tighter, sensing he needed some comfort. Emily still couldn't believe how much he had grown in the few short years she had known him. When she had first met him, the top of his head hit her in mid-chest, now he was as tall as she was and wasn't finished growing.
"You're welcome, Russ. I'm glad I can help," she said in sincerity.
He broke the hug and took a step or two back, acting like it was undignified for him to be hugging someone at the age of fifteen.
Emily couldn't help but chuckle. "Just for future reference, everyone needs a good hug every now and then," she informed him.
"I guess so," Russ said with a sheepish grin. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. "Um…is it okay with you if I handled all the arrangements?"
"Sure. But I'll be by your side the whole time in case you get stuck." Emily smiled fondly at him. "I think your father would be very proud of you right now."
He looked up with hopeful eyes. "You think so?"
"I do," she said with a nod.
Russ gave her another sheepish smile then ran his fingers nervously through his hair. "Emily, what do I do first?"
Emily took his by the arm and guided him over to the couch. "You need to select a funeral home first. From there the mortician will guide you through the steps."
"Do you know a good one?"
"Yes," she said and told him the name of the one her family has used for generations.
From there, Emily had let him plan his father's funeral on his own. She had taken the day off to accompany him to the funeral home and had sat by his side while he and the mortician, Mr. Wilkie, had ironed out the details. At first Mr. Wilkie had addressed all the questions to Emily, incorrectly assuming it was her loved one that had died. She had quickly disabused him of the notion, explaining that she was simply footing the bill but it was Russ' show.
In the end Russ had decided to keep it simple. He had forgone the visitation, since he figured his father had driven off all of his friends with his heavy drinking, and went with a graveside ceremony. With Emily's help, he had gotten a plot that wasn't far from his mother's grave. Emily had also gotten an old friend of Mr. Rossi's, a Father Jimmy, to preside over the gathering.
On the day of the funeral, Emily had stood next to him at the gravesite with an arm draped across his shoulders in comfort. Much to his surprise, they weren't the only ones there; several of his father's friends had come. That had made him feel a little better that other people remembered his father before his drinking days. Throughout the service, he had kept a stiff upper lip until the casket was being lowered into the grave. Suddenly he had the overwhelming urge to cry.
Russ turned to her, tears welling in his green eyes. "I think I could really use one of those hugs," he said with a sniffle.
Wordlessly, Emily took him in her arms and held him tightly as he cried his heart out.
"Emily has done a lot for me over the years and now I want to do something for her," Russ explained.
Derek could understand that. Emily was like that; always going out of the way to help others and never expecting anything back in return. Her loyalty to others was astounding; she would do anything for someone she cared for.
"I get it," he said with an understanding nod. "But be warned. This isn't going to be a walk in the park. I'm going to work the two of you really hard."
The two teenagers grinned at him. "Bring it on," Russ challenged.
Gideon wandered the lobby of the hotel François admiring the architecture and the artwork. Behind him, Emily was having an intense conversation with the front desk employee. Before today he had only heard her speak in Spanish and Russian and both times were only in a few sentences. He liked how easily the French floated off her lips as if she had been speaking it for her entire life. He snorted at his stupidity. Of course she had. She had mentioned on the jet once that she had spent a lot of her time as a child in France.
He glanced back at Emily. Now she was leaning over the counter trying to look at the computer screen. There was something different about her. But exactly what it was he couldn't put finger on. She seemed more reserved, a little less out going than he remembered and every now and then her eyes had a haunted look to them. But her body language spoke the most to him. Emily was clearly uncomfortable around him and with being back in France. From the moment she had stepped off the plane and onto French soil, she had been on edge. Gideon wondered what had happened to her in the five years since he had last seen her to make those changes.
"Merde!"
Emily's swearing broke through his reverie. Curiosity piqued, Gideon wandered back to the front desk. "What's wrong?"
She started to explain in French, caught herself and switched to English. "It seems they have lost our reservations. All they have left is a suite—"
"We'll take it," he interrupted.
Emily's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Wha…what?"
"I said we'll take the suite."
Emily took him by the arm and steered him away from the front desk and the clerk's curious ears. "I can't share a room you," she said in a low voice.
Gideon looked perplexed. "Why not? We're both adults."
"I know, but it's…it's," she groped for the right words to express her swirling thoughts and failed. "It's just not right," she finished lamely. "You take the suite and I'll try another hotel."
"Bah!" he scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's not like we'll be sharing the same bed, Prentiss. I'll sleep on the couch or on a cot."
To prevent her from arguing any further, he dragged her back to the counter and handed his credit card to the employee. "We'll take the room if it is still available."
"Indeed it is, Monsieur," she confirmed in near flawless English. "And it's one of our nicest two bedroom suites."
Gideon flashed one of his rare smiles at Emily. "Even better."
Behind him, Emily heaved a huge sigh. It looked like she was bunking with Gideon even if she didn't want to. It was obvious he wasn't going to take no for an answer. The last time she had been forced to share a room with one of her male counterparts was when she and Derek had driven back from Texas. Emily then thanked her lucky stars that the hotel clerk hadn't said it was the honeymoon suite. If it had, she would have said screwed this and left, leaving Gideon to fend for himself. There were some lines she wouldn't cross.
Ignoring her discomfort with the situation, he continued on with the check in, eventually turning to her and handing her one of the keycards. "It won't be that bad."
"We'll see," Emily muttered under her breath as she shouldered her bag and followed the ex-agent to the bank of elevators.
The room was as nice as the front desk employee had said it was. The suite was equipped with a full kitchen, dining room, half bath and a spacious sitting area. The décor was tasteful, but not over powering. The bedrooms were located on opposite sides of the suite much to Emily's relief.
"See?" Gideon said with a slight smug look, pleased that his decision had proven to be the right one. "Which one do you want?"
Emily glanced between the two room and chose the one on the right, opposite of the kitchen. She didn't know how much of an early riser he was and she didn't want to wake up to the sound of him puttering outside her door as he made something.
"Excellent." He glanced at his watch with a frown. "It's late. I'm going to bed. It was a long flight," he declared. "Our appointment with the medical examiner is at eleven o'clock. See you for breakfast at nine sharp, Prentiss."
With a curt nod, Gideon entered his bedroom and closed the door with a resounding thud, leaving Emily still standing in the middle of the room speechless.
"Nice to see that time hasn't mellowed him any," she said sarcastically as she adjourned to her room.
After shutting the door and locking it as a precaution in case Gideon had taken up sleepwalking as a new hobby, Emily dropped her bags on the queen size bed and went over to the windows. She threw back the curtains and sucked in her breath at the magnificent view that greeted her. In the distance the Eiffel Tower stood proud and straight, basking in the lights that illuminated its shape at night. Even though she had long lost count of the number of times she had seen it up close or at a distance, the tower always left her in awe. She had felt the same way when she gazed at the Washington Monument and the dome of the Capital from her old apartment.
Emily spent several minutes admiring its beauty before she finally tore her eyes away from the view. She moved her bags to the dresser and proceeded to unpack only what she needed for tomorrow. Barring any unforeseen complications, they would be flying home tomorrow night or early the next morning so why unpack everything. When she was done, Emily glanced at her watch and saw it was almost ten Paris time. Back in DC it was only five.
She knew she should call it a night like Gideon had and get some sleep, but she wasn't tired. In actuality, she was too tense from the flight, the lost reservations, sharing a hotel room with him and his brusqueness. Emily had to find a way to unwind or she would spend the night pacing and be useless in the morning. She consulted the amenities binder on the desk to see if there were any exercise faculties. Not only did the hotel have a full gym, it also had a swimming pool. A few laps would burn off her excess energy and allow her to sleep. Decision made, Emily changed into the swimsuit she had packed at the last minute, shrugged on the complimentary robe and headed out for the pool.