A hat tip to you all for your kind words and feedback on the last conversation. I know these are frustratingly far apart and not sticking to any kind of schedule...but I thank you for your patience. I think real life is starting to calm down just a touch, so I'm hoping to be able to do a little more writing now and to be able to post a little more frequently.

Another JJ conversation, this one set just before Emily's departure from the BAU.

Happy reading =)

"Make sure your worst enemy doesn't live between your two ears." – Laird Hamilton

I check my phone for what must be the thousandth time since I got home from the office and frown when I find no notifications. She'd met with Hotch earlier today, and generally that means something significant is going on. And even if Morgan and I hadn't spotted her making her way into his office, I'd had an inkling that something was going on with her. She'd looked far too apologetic and her expression was far too bittersweet at my wedding for it to be nothing of consequence.

Of course I have my suspicions about what her meeting with Hotch was about. Perhaps more than the rest of the team I have an idea of how badly Emily wanted to be able to pick up things how they were before Doyle, and how frustrated and devastated she was when it didn't happen. The thing with Emily though, is that you never quite know if what you think is going on, is actually going on. Maybe I'm way off the mark, and Hotch was just checking in with her. Or maybe she's made a decision that's going to have a significant impact (again) on the team.

I check my phone again and find myself letting out a frustrated sigh. I'd sent a quick text to her after I'd been unsuccessful at catching a moment with her before she left the office. That was two hours ago. I'd sent a follow-up, just in case she'd simply missed the notification – lord knows that happens to me often enough. That was an hour ago. I'd sent another text to her when I didn't get a reply. That was 20 minutes ago.

I bite my lip as I contemplate my options. I could leave it and wait for her to tell us whatever it is (or rather, hope she tells us whatever it is), but I run the risk of her simply not telling us. I could force the issue by showing up at her door, but that's not something she'd appreciate, and there's certainly no guarantee she'd tell me anything that way. I could talk to Morgan or Garcia and see if they know anything, but it would probably panic Garcia further, and I get the feeling that Morgan and Emily share some secrets the rest of us aren't privy to. I could continue to blow up her phone with texts…but if she hasn't responded by now, I doubt she will.

Which leaves me with just one option: calling her. She won't answer, I know that much, so calling her cell isn't helpful. But I could call her landline…that way she'd hear me leaving her a message. That of course hinges on her being home, but she's always been one to enjoy simply relaxing at home, so I feel fairly confident that she'll be there.

I grab my phone and select the number for her landline before pressing the phone to my ear.

I listen to it ring a few times before the answering machine engages. "Hi, it's Emily. Leave a message."

"Hey, it's JJ. Give me a call, would you? You're starting to worry me, Em."

Simple, but to the point. I know it's a low blow, but if it'll get her to call me, then I'm fine with my passive-aggressive and guilt-inducing ways. I just don't trust her to be able to be upfront with whatever it is she's going through. Her time away changed her, yes, but she's still Emily Prentiss in many ways, including her tendency to bottle up her emotions and carry burdens by herself.

It's a surprise when my phone begins to buzz in my hand, her face and name lighting up on the screen.

"Hey," I answer. "I didn't think you'd call."

"Well, with that guilt trip of a message you left me, how could I not?" she snips in reply. "I feel for poor Henry when he's older," she adds as an after-thought, her tone betraying her earlier words. She's not really annoyed. She sounds more amused than anything, actually.

I chuckle at her words. At least she's still in relatively good spirits. "He'll be fine."

"So long as he does whatever you say. But the minute he forgets to call, or send a card for someone's birthday…he's done for."

I chuckle again. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. So what's up?"

"Nothing," she replies. I swear I can hear her shrug as she answers.

"What're you up to?"

"Just hanging out with Sergio and enjoying some wine."

"Feel like some company?" I venture, knowing full well the answer will be no. Still, it's worth that shot, I suppose.

"I'm not sure I'd be very good company. Between the wine and the long day, I'm pretty tired. I won't be surprised if I fall asleep in an hour or two."

I raise an eyebrow at her attempted nonchalant response. She's not fooling anyone with that, and she knows it. She's banking on the fact that I'll 'give her some space' and let her 'work through her own stuff'. Yeah right. Been there, done that, and it didn't end well for anyone involved.

"Okay," I concede. "You have a few minutes to talk at least?"

"And there it is."

"There what is?"

"JJ, I'm-"

"So help me if you finish that sentence with "fine", Emily Prentiss," I interrupt. That word no longer has any meaning in her vocabulary.

She's quiet on the other end of the phone for a moment before she responds. "I just mean that you don't have to worry."

"I'm a mother. It's in my job description to worry."

"About Henry, yes. But you're not my mother, you don't have to worry about me."

"It's my job to worry about my family," I specify, "and you're very much a part of my family, Em."

She's quiet again, and this time I seize my opportunity, putting faith in my profiling ability. "When do you leave?" I ask quietly, fairly certain I'd correctly pieced together the signs and details.

She blows out a breath and I know instantly I hit the nail on the head. I just don't know where she's going, and whether she's running or not.

"I haven't really set a firm date yet."

"But you are leaving." It's a clarifying statement, not a question.

"Yes," she answers, her voice nearing the volume of a whisper.

"Where are you going?" I ask, fearing the answer will be one I don't like. It's not out of the realm of possibility that she might run away to Europe, or some obscure part of the world none of us have ever been to escape her demons.

"Not far," she begins, but pauses for a moment – presumably to collect her thoughts, "just to the Academy."

I blink in surprise. I'd hoped she'd stay local, but I'd suspected she'd do just the opposite. I thought for sure we'd have to schedule Skype dates and book plane tickets to see her. A transfer is significantly better than a resignation. Significantly.

"I was expecting to have to convince you to stay," I say honestly.

"You're not going to?" she replies, her tone conveying her surprise.

"That depends."

"On?"

"On what your reasoning is for leaving the BAU."

She lets out another breath slowly before answering. "I'm not the person I was before everything happened, and I can't be that person. I wanted to be that person. I wanted to be able to pick up where things left off."

"Emily," I begin, my tone sympathetic.

"When I got back," she continues, seemingly oblivious to my interruption, "there were these expectations."

"Expectations?" I echo, my expression shifting to a frown of confusion.

"For me to be this shell of the person I used to be or to be exactly the same as I was," she explains, and I find my mind flashing back to that first glimpse of her when she walked through that door in the BAU.

I remember grinning widely as she reentered our lives, and claimed her own back. I remember thinking she looked exhausted, weary, and entirely too skinny. I remember wondering how much of the Emily Prentiss we all knew and loved we were going to get back. It wasn't hard to realize that the things she'd gone through were life-changing to say the least.

I'd like to think that I never had that belief of her – that she was broken in some unfixable way – but the more I think about it, the more it seems like I may have given her that impression. I'd reached out to her often to be a supportive friend, not believing that she was fine. But it was that very action – treating her differently than I had before – that cemented it. Things were different. Somehow, despite believing with every fibre of my being that if anyone could overcome all of it, it would be her, I'd fallen into the very trap she's describing. I'd believed that she couldn't possibly be the same after Doyle.

"I need something new, because I can't try to put things back the way they were. I already tried that."

I suddenly find myself feeling incredibly lucky. I'd been forced to leave the BAU, and after everything that I'd done while I was away, I thought for sure that I'd be a different person. And maybe I am, but coming back to the BAU felt like coming home. Everything had changed – Emily was no longer there, everyone was that little bit more jaded, I wasn't a media liaison anymore – and yet nothing had changed. How is it that my experience of returning to the BAU was so much different than hers? How come she hadn't been able to slip back into her old life? We'd both faced demons of some kind, and had to deal with ghosts haunting us, and yet somehow I was able to pick up where I left off and grow, while she was left to struggle.

"Jayje? You still there?"

"What?" I say, her words having startled me. "Oh. Yeah, I'm here."

"Where'd you go?"

"I was just thinking about how incredibly unfair it is that my homecoming to the BAU was a lot smoother than yours," I answer honestly. Here's hoping it doesn't spook her into clamming up.

I can just picture the frown on her face as she answers, "What do you mean?"

I let out a breath before answering. "I got to come home. It feels like you came back, expecting to come home, but were made to feel like a stranger."

"No, no, no. Jayje, that's not-" she begins quickly, but I cut her off.

"It's okay, Em. I get it. It makes sense. Things are different. You're different."

She lets out a heavy sigh. "I wish they weren't…and I wish I wasn't. I just hate how I'm abandoning you guys."

"You're not, Em," I answer, my tone firm. She needs to understand this. "Even if you were moving to some remote town on the French Alps, you wouldn't be abandoning us."

"Um, Jayje, I think that sort of sounds exactly like it's abandoning you."

"Not in the least. In fact, I'm proud that for once you're putting yourself first. You don't do that often enough."

"What, expensive wine and sin-to-win weekends aren't putting me first?" she jokes, probably trying to steer us away from the heavy conversation.

"I know this wasn't easy for you to decide, Em. I know how badly you wanted to fit back in with the team, and your old life. And I know how hard it was when that didn't happen. I watched as Reid and Morgan struggled to forgive you, and how much it hurt you."

She stays quiet, the only sound her steady inhaling and exhaling.

"Am I going to miss working with you?" I continue. "Of course. Do I like that you won't be on the team anymore? No, of course not. But I know this is something you have to do, and I'll support you 100% in this, Em. I mean it, I'm here for you."

I hear her swallow before letting out a heavy sigh of relief. "You do too much for me, Jayje."

"I don't do enough for you, Emily," I correct. "I'll forever be in debt to you for saving Will, and putting together the pieces to let us save Henry."

"And you saved my life after Doyle, so let's just call it even, okay?"

I stay quiet, not at all willing to call those two things even remotely close to even. She'd saved my husband and son. I'd just kept her secret. There's a big difference.

"Do you think Garcia will ever forgive me for breaking up her crime-fighting team?" she asks after a moment of silence. It's meant to be a light-hearted question, I think, but I detect hints of sadness in it.

"It's gonna be okay, Em."

"I hope so."

"Mommy!" I hear Henry call out from the room where's he surrounded himself with toys. "I'm hungry!"

"Ah, duty calls," Emily remarks, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"Apparently. I should let you go though. I better check in on Will and make sure he doesn't need help with dinner."

"Damn, it is dinnertime."

"Yeah, make sure you eat something. You shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach. Hell, you're not supposed to be drinking a lot of alcohol anyway."

Emily just laughs. "Yes, Mom."

"Oh shut up, you."

"Jayje?" she says quietly, just as I'm about to say goodbye.

"Yeah?" I answer softly.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "For…everything. Scrabble…and having my back…and understanding why I have to do this…"

I feel tears sting at the backs of my eyes. It's not often she gets so emotional. "Em…of course. You're family. I'll always be there for you."

"That goes both ways, you know. You know, I'll be home a lot more often now, so if you need a babysitter, just say the word."

"You better be careful, or I just might take you up on that."

She laughs, and I smile – it's nice to hear her laugh again. "That's the idea. I'll see you tomorrow."

I'm about to return the sentiment when I realize that I really don't feel comfortable leaving her alone tonight, given everything that we'd talked about. Even though she sounds okay, and it's certainly not a situation where I'm fearful of her doing something irrational, I still find myself a little unsure of where her head's at. Our conversation, short as it was, was still heavy, and I can't shake the feeling that she shouldn't be alone after it.

"Hey, Em?" I say, hoping I'd cracked her defences enough.

"Yeah?"

"You wanna come over for dinner? Will's cooking one of his mom's recipes, and he always makes too much food."

It's quiet for a moment, and I feel my hope starting to fade. "Sure," she answers, and I let a smile spread across my face.

"Great. You okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I've only had a couple sips."

"See you in a bit then."

"Yeah, see you soon," she answers before hanging up. I lean back against the pillows of the couch and let out a breath. In some ways my fears of her leaving had been confirmed, but largely I feel a sense of relief and happiness for her. She's finally putting herself first. And it's about damn time too.

So...did you shake your head at JJ's not at all subtle guilt trip? Feel for Emily as she had to tell one of her best friends she's leaving? What did you think of their conversation on the whole? Let me know!