CHAPTER 16

TELL ME A LITTLE ABOUT YOURSELF

"You can open your eyes now." Richard said softly, bringing Emily back to reality.

She had allowed herself to daydream. On their way to God-knows-where, she felt so comfortable in the car, in the presence of a man she literally knew nothing about, that she didn't even realize the moment when she had let her eyes shut closed and her body just fell back onto the seat, her muscles feeling a lot less tense and her mouth relaxing into something that looked like a genuine tiny smile.

"Oh…" She exclaimed, realizing where they were.

Richard parked the car and walked out, holding the door open for Emily.

"Merci." She now fully smiling, trying to be as graceful as she could, while getting out of the car. And graceful for Emily meant not hitting her head on her way out and not letting a heel get stuck, hence not faceplanting to the ground. She has had some previous experience, with a British guy, in Scotland, on a date…one that went nowhere, basically. Story of her life.

"Your French is really good." Richard complimented her, meaning every word of it.

"Oh yeah? How's your French?" She immediately regretted it. One, because Richard probably didn't even understand what her dirty mind was getting at. And two, because sometimes she had no filter between her mouth and whatever bodily organ that was making her speak such things.

He smiled uncomfortably and looked around, inhaling the smell around them.

Rust. Water. Metal. Benzene. But mostly - stagnant water.

To Emily, this was one of the most exciting mixtures of smells.

"A good friend of mine kindly allowed me to introduce this beauty…" Richard walked over to the pier, on the edge of River Seine, pointing at a very clean, very sophisticated and, also, very expensive looking private boat.

"…To another beauty." He turned around, extending his hand to Emily, urging her to come closer.

"Yup, I'm most definitely dreaming." Emily thought to herself as she walked over and put her hand in his.

It was, she realized, the first kind of direct contact she has had with him so far. Never had he dared touch her or invade her personal space, since they met at the park before lunch. And Emily was someone who reserved physical contact for just a few special people in her life. She would never admit it, but she was kind of jealous with Reid's ability to be so open about his phobia of germs. However, for Emily, it wasn't the germs that scared her. It was the contact itself.

And yet, she didn't mind. Somehow, with this weirdly nice man that had appeared in her current upside-down dream world, she did not mind holding hands. He had a firm, strong grip, his fingers were long and neither lean, not chubby, but they engulfed her hand almost completely. They were, also, so very soft and warm. And, for once in her life, Emily Prentiss decided to go against everything that she stood for, and to let a man take the lead.

She looked around once again. They were at the pier, a private one, from what she could see. There were a few private boats on the side of the river and they were now facing one of them. It was pitch dark and the few street lights barely arrived to where they were standing. Yet, she could see quite clearly. She liked the dark. Always had. To Emily, it held so many secrets and it was full of adrenaline and mystery.

"A friend?" She finally spoke up. "Was it Sarkozy?"

Richard laughed, deciding not to comment on that. French people had weird ways of discussing politics and he wasn't about to go out on a rant.

Instead, he pulled on her hand very gently, until she picked up on his lead and followed him up the ramp and onto the main deck.

An elder man introduced himself as Gustave and let them know that he would accompany them on their little cruise down the River Seine and that he was available for anything they might need. He was ready to fix them drinks and there was a cheese platter on the table. Whenever a cheese platter was involved, Emily Prentiss was a happy child.

"Chardonnay s'il vous plait." Emily told him, wanting to steer away from any hard alcohol, as to not get hammered twice within 24 hours. She was already feeling the jet lag, so a second sobering up process would be painful. She knew that from experience.

Richard just nodded, having the same drink as her.

The elder man served them and then disappeared, leaving them with a small gadget with a red button, which, when pushed, would call him back onto the deck. Until then, he would be a ghost and they would be all alone.

"So, Lauren, tell me a little about yourself." Richard's innocent question was about to cause Emily some trouble.

"Oh crap…" She thought to herself, taking a big gulp of her chardonnay.

She had just embarked on quite the journey.


After the run and the pull ups training, both Angie and Bryan went to their rooms to take a shower before they met again at that healthy food place that Angie liked so much.

She found it quite weird to be in her room, all by herself. She had barely gotten any sleep that night and the thought of Amanda, all of her personal things serving as a reminder of her, were tripping Angela out to the point where she showered and changed in less than ten minutes before she darted out of there as if the fire alarm had just gone off.

On her way to the little restaurant, she noticed something weird. It was Sunday, the 7th day of FBI Academy. It was also their first day off and she barely saw any trainees outside. It was normal, they were all drained out of energy, so she assumed everyone was sleeping.

However, what she found curious was the fact that, even on their day off, actual Agents were walking across campus. What alarmed her was the fact that there was no need for an Agent to go all the way to the Training Campus, if they wanted to do anything. The food court was between campuses, the closest exit from the FBI premises, for an Agent, was most definitely not the Academy exit, and, it all just seemed sketchy.

She decided to keep those thoughts to herself. Angela was known to make a big deal out of something small.

"Oops, I'm sorry, Miss…?" An Agent bumped into her.

"Trainee Angela Hunter." She introduced herself and raised an eyebrow. "No problem. Have a good day, Sir."

The man walked off and she noticed him typing something on his phone. She had never seen this man before, he was not one of the trainers, not a mentor either, as far as she could tell.

"Hola, Marisol." Angela greeted the woman behind the food counter, as she walked in the Avocado Place, as Bryan referred to it.

"Hola, niña bonita. What can I get you today?" Marisol, a woman in her 50's, with beautiful caramel skin and thick Latina accent, greeted her back.

"Anything low calorie and with high-energy boost. And healthy! I'm trying to survive this place." Angela laughed, sounding more like she was being funny, rather than sarcastic.

With the corner of her eye she noticed another Agent, sitting at a table and eyeing her. Maybe it was an FBI thing? They must be curious about the new trainees. That couldn't be a bad thing.

"I'll have two of those set up, please, before my friend Bryan comes over and asks for a greasy steak and French fries." Angie rolled her eyes, judging her friend's choice of food.

"Here's my card, I'll pay for both." Angie left her card at the counter and walked over to get a nice seat, with a view of the whole court outside.

Bryan walked in shortly after and went straight to the counter to order. Marisol surprised him with a tray with all the food that Angie had ordered and he sighed. He really wanted that steak, though.

"Could you, please, let your friend know that her card has been declined?" Marisol said with a tiny smile. It was always a very uncomfortable situation when she had to let someone know that their card was bounced.

"Oh?" Bryan raised an eyebrow. "Try it again, maybe it's de-magnetized."

"I did." Marisol said shyly. "It says insufficient funds."

Bryan looked over to where Angie was sitting and saw her wave at him with a smile. Ever since they joined the Academy seven days ago, they had no other option but to eat out every single day, every single meal. And those meals weren't exactly cheap.

Then Bryan remembered one more detail. On their first day, he had seen Angie get out of her car. It was an old model, old car, not in top condition.

Angie's clothes had always been really clean, but he had noticed the brands she used were always the inexpensive ones. He had never thought much of it, in fact, he had applauded her for not being one of those girls who spend hundreds of dollars on gym clothes that are meant to get sweaty, dirty and worn out quickly.

But, was there more to Angie than she was leading on?

"Here, I'll cover everything." He swiped his own card, realizing than 26 dollars and 50 cents for two dishes and a couple of drinks was quite a lot of money.

He then tipped Marisol with a ten dollar note, thanking her for her discretion, before he brought the tray to Angie's table.

Without saying a word, he slipped her card in front of her and started to sort out the plates. They both had two plates of food each and also, a drink.

"So, Angie…" He said with a smile, and with an agenda. "Tell me a little about yourself."

"Oh crap!" Angela thought to herself.

She had, as well, embarked on quite the journey.


Emily shivered, sitting on the outside deck, sipping her wine slowly and letting the cold breeze hit her bare arms.

A second later, a coat of warmth was wrapping around her.

She looked towards Richard, who had kindly taken his blazer off and was now making sure every uncovered bit of Emily's flesh would be safe and sound underneath the rich cotton fiber item, tagged Louis Vuitton.

"Thank you." She smiled, realizing it had been too long since he had asked her a question.

"Uhm, I…" She started off, a bit unsure.

Without knowing it, she shivered again. This time it was not because of the cold breeze, but the sudden feeling of weakness and doubt that came over her. Who was she? She could no longer say that she was Emily Prentiss from the FBI. And she could no longer be using the Lauren Reynolds character, as it was connected to a sealed, old CIA case. Plus, there was the whole "Lauren Reynolds is supposed to be dead, again" thing.

Suddenly, a doze of courage went up her spine. And then down. And up again.

Richard's right hand was stroking Emily's back, making sure the blazer was warm enough to make her feel comfortable. Oh, he was so cute.

"I uh…" She made a second attempt, but no words came out of her mouth after that.

"It's okay." Richard's hand stopped its movements and she could now feel it immobile, resting on her right shoulder, meaning he was now holding her sideways. And that, too, was cute.

"What brings you to France?" He changed the topic, hoping that this question would be easier for her to answer.

"Vacation." She stated calmly.

"With no hotel booked and no itinerary?" He raised an eyebrow and smiled challengingly.

"What can I say? I'm good at improvising." With those words, Emily intended to be quirky, until she realized how true they were.

Emily would often let herself fall comfortably into a routine that she was expected to follow. Emily Prentiss – the rule follower. The people pleaser. The good Unit Chief. The perfectionist. The overachiever. The one who overcompensates.

The Hell with it all.

Lauren Reynolds was bold, she took risks, she improvised, she lived a fast-paced life.

"Okay, you want to know about me?" Suddenly, Emily Prentiss got balls.

"I'm someone who has always held her head high and I can handle my own shit. I regularly need to handle other people's shit, too, and I don't complain about that. But, you see, sometimes, in certain occasions, one needs to focus on their own shit and find time to sort their own thoughts. Sometimes, I need to fly to a foreign country, act silly, be irrational, get hammered in front of a fountain, meet an amazing guy and, at least for as long as it shall last, be happy to be by his side. That's basically it." She added.

Richard found this to be a bit too much and a bit too complicated.

"What do you mean? As long as it shall last?" He had picked up that one thing, that damned one thing that got on Emily's nerves.

"I mean that I'm well aware that tomorrow or next week, you will be gone. And it sucks to know it and I usually don't even think about it, but it is tripping me out." She was making him more and more confused and he wasn't sure if she was trying to insult him…or herself.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said silently.

"But I am." She replied with a sigh. "Because, tomorrow or next week, I will be gone. I can't help it. I'm a complete control freak! I do the same exact thing every single time and no matter how much I like someone, I always leave. And the harder I try not to leave, the easier I make it for myself to do just that. So, ultimately, I end up on my own, complaining about my inability to connect to someone, without realizing that I'm actually perfectly able to do so, I am just an idiot who prefers to leave before being left, to run before getting lost, to hold back before revealing my feelings, to disappoint before being disappointed, to-…"

Before she could continue her sob story, she felt a tug on her shoulder and found herself facing Richard completely. Something changed. She felt like her heart skipped a beat and she knew how ridiculous the idea of that sounded. But she couldn't help it and to the control freak Emily Prentiss, this was driving her insane.

He didn't speak. He just stared into her eyes, his face absolutely relaxed and calm. Screw him and his arrogantly cute ways. Screw her speech. Screw everything, just screw it all. This was all that Emily could say to herself at that moment.

Emily's brain hit the switch off button and all common sense evaporated through her eyes, as she allowed herself to just stare at him. There was something about him, being so immobile, right in front of her, something felt so reassuring. His face never changed its expression and his hands stood firmly by his side. There was absolutely no hint of him initiating any further physical contact. At all. Not even a blink. He stood still and remained still.

She did not.

Within a second after realizing that YOLO was not such a bad concept, Emily's lips crashed against Richard's. She kissed him like she had never allowed herself to kiss before – genuinely. Slowly. Without that desperate urge that everyone sees in the movies. She only felt his hands go up the sides of her arms, slowly, after he had warmed up to the idea that Emily, or rather Lauren, was finally giving him the green light that he had waited so patiently for.

His hands squeezed her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. It was Emily who was wearing a warm blazer, but it was Richard who was oozing warmth.

After a long moment, he allowed himself to pull back, giving them both a second to breathe. He also looked at Emily's face with curiosity. Any man she had ever been with, would have looked a little further down, from her eyes. This man, however, seemed to want to know more about Emily and less about her, well, décolleté. And there was a certain warmth to that fact, too.

She felt the palm of his left hand raise up to her cheek, as he slowly maneuvered her face sideways before he went in for another kiss. This one made Emily's breathing go even more ragged than before.

FBI, what?

Fowler, who?

Workload, huh?

She was fully aware of the fact that she was not really Lauren Reynolds, but she was also getting more and more sure about the fact that this was not Emily Prentiss, either.

And that felt damn good.

"Wait." Suddenly, she broke it all off, now overwhelmed with the urge to come clean. "I wasn't completely honest with you. My name is not Lauren."

"You never said it was." He smiled against her lips, her hot breath tickling his wet lips as she had spoken.

"You only told me to call you Lauren, so that is what I do." He smirked.

Damn. Touché. He was a smart one. Did Emily Prentiss just find her match? Or did Lauren?

And yes, his French was quite damn impressive.


"Boy, you really don't like sharing personal stuff, do you?" Bryan joked, trying to bring Angela back to reality. Ever since he had asked her a question, she had zoned out and was completely gone, in spirit.

"Huh?" She shook her head, looking at him. "Oh, no. It's just that I'm not a very fun person. Not much cool stuff to know about me."

She shrugged and Bryan started laughing.

"Are you serious? You are, without any doubt, the most interesting person I have ever met in my whole entire life!" He kept on laughing and it was starting to irritate her. "You danced your ass off in front of a bar, full of FBI Agents, on your first night of FBI Academy. Hell, you made them shake it too, with the words: Loosen up, bitches! So, excuse me when I say this, but I refuse to believe that there is anything remotely uninteresting behind those emerald eyes of yours, Missy!"

"Fine. I'm not boring. Okay?" She said in mock surrender. "I just don't like talking about myself."

"How come? You seem to be pretty good with words." He pushed it, only because he wanted to know her better.

"I don't know." She nibbled on a carrot and looked outside the window. "I guess I just don't see the point."

"The point in what?" He said while finishing the last bite of his meal.

"In getting to know someone." Her shoulders rose a bit. "I mean, people come and people go. If you start showing everyone who you really are, that is just a colossal waste of time and energy, right? They wouldn't care once they are gone. So I prefer to just have a good time, maybe go out, dance, enjoy life, take a holiday, learn something new…and then get on with my life once they're gone."

Bryan opened his mouth, but then closed it before he could tell her how he felt about those words of hers.

He felt sad.

A little heartbroken.

Confused.

All of that, because of what her words insinuated. She clearly had a problem getting attached to people; either that or she had experience being abandoned by people she had gotten attached to. Or both. Who knew? Point was that Bryan had all the feels and he didn't know how to tell her how sorry he was to hear such words from such a beautiful and vibrant person as herself.

"You can tell me I'm wrong. Don't worry. Everyone keeps telling me that, so I'm used to it by now. It doesn't change how I feel about life and people, though. It is what it is." She shrugged.

Bryan remained silent for a little longer before he worked up the courage to speak.

"No, I actually kind of get it." He looked down at his empty plate. "I mean, I'm pretty much used to being on the other side of things, though. Growing up, I was quite popular at school, an athlete, a smart kid, too. But uh, my family kept switching jobs every few years, so we had to move, sometimes in the middle of the school year. And that made me want to stay away from real relationships. As I grew up, I dated all the pretty girls at school and I knew that, sooner or later, I'd be gone, so it wouldn't matter if I dumped one for the other. And then I would leave and go to some place new and then it would happen all over again. And again. Until it really shaped me into being someone who can't even keep a relationship that he is interested in, because I simply don't know how to. Leaving is all I've ever known. And trust me when I say this, but leaving sucks as much as being left. So yeah, in a way, I do get what you mean."

Angie bit her bottom lip. Bryan had always been so cool and collected, acting grown up and all. So it really felt quite different to see him in this new light now – opening up and getting up close and personal.

"Oh." She exclaimed silently.

"You once told me you won't sleep with me and then once you asked me how come I'm not attracted to you. Remember?" He received a nod from her, in reply. "Well, you must be the first girl I've met, who doesn't want anything other than a friendship and support from me. And yeah, you are amazingly beautiful and so damn smart, you will go far in life, being just the way you are…" He held out his hand for her and let it sit on the table. "But I would rather have you in my life forever, as a colleague and a friend than screw things up by flirting with you and then dumping you the following week."

"Aww, Bry!" She couldn't help the pitch in her voice Her hand slid across the table and fell comfortably on top of his open hand as it was waiting for her.

"Together." He said shortly and she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Together!" She repeated with a smile, feeling lucky to have this amazing guy by her side through the biggest, most important journey of her life.