CHAPTER 25

I SHOULD HAVE HAD THE DAMN WINE

She wasn't sure when or how, but she had fallen asleep in his arms. And she hadn't moved an inch until she woke up.

"Bonjour." His smile greeted her.

"Okay..." She rubbed her eyes, her response making zero sense.

"Do you want to stay here another day?" He asked casually.

"No." Before her reply would sound ungrateful, she added. "We still have to go to St. Tropez."

"Alright, you, cheeky one." His hand rubbed her shoulder. Other than a cute gesture, he needed to readjust the articulation in his arm. She had been sleeping on it for hours and he had taken the brave decision to not move an inch, so that at least one of them would be comfortable. That one being Emily.

"Well, in that case, we need to check out in...about 10 minutes." He informed her. This was why he had asked if she wanted to stay longer. He had already received an e-mail, reminding him for the check out.

"How is it already noon?" Emily said frantically.

She had never had the privilege to be able to experience a late morning in. Being tucked in bed, maybe with a guy that she actually liked, sleeping as much as her body needed and without waking up to an annoying alarm clock - that was a foreign concept to her.

"Am I too high maintenance if I tell you right away that I am starving?" She laughed, not wanting to give the wrong vibes.

Emily had her own money. She could pay her own hotel, a holiday, good food and anything she wanted to buy. But it did feel kind of nice to have someone do it for her. And yet, she didn't care who paid, she just wanted the food.

"No." He laughed. Out of all things she could have said, that was what she chose. "I already reserved a table for two at the restaurant. It's just the room that we have to leave. Right now."

Having brought nothing as luggage made it so much easier to leave. They literally got out of bed, covered themselves up with the rest of the clothes that they had stripped down the previous night, before getting in the Jacuzzi, and they left. Life seemed so simple and easy these past few days. But, was it real?

They went downstairs and got served some amazing French food, which, once again, left Emily even hungrier at the end of the meal. She would most definitely be asking for a pizza later.

After a nice walk around the gardens, it was time for them to leave. Richard had offered to go straight to Saint Tropez, but Emily had insisted on going back to Paris, to get the luggage and all the things she had bought, first. Clearly, she won.

On their way back, they spoke about nothing and everything. Random little topics came up and made both of them laugh. If Emily had to sum up what they had discussed, she wouldn't be able to do so, as it was all weird, random, a spur of the moment. That rarely ever happened to the highly organized, workaholic freak Emily Prentiss. But it was everything that Lauren Reynolds had once stood for.

She could not help but notice how, as they parked in front of the hotel, Richard seemed wary. His eyes scanned their surroundings and he had even shot a glance left and right as he walked out of the elevator before her. Maybe it was the profiler in her that was giving things too much importance. Maybe he was just a man of curious nature and he liked to look around him as he walked. She sure did that all the time, so she was in no position to be suspicious of him.

The light in her room was on, as she walked in. She was more than sure that she had turned it off the day before. Plus, the hotel maid would have turned it off in the morning anyway. So, why was it on?

She entered her bedroom and gasped silently.

"Everything okay?" Richard asked.

"Yeah." Emily replied confidently. "Could you give me ten minutes to pack my stuff, please? I also need to change, so please don't enter the room."

"Okay." He sat on the couch and switched the TV on, while he would wait for her. Although, it wasn't like he hadn't seen her borderline naked already. And he most definitely would not mind seeing that again. And again.

Emily then took a more detailed look at the room. It had been completely trashed. The hotel furniture was not harmed, but all of the things she had bought had been taken out of the suitcase and thrown to the floor, as if someone had been searching through her stuff. Nothing was missing, though. One of the gifts she had bought for her teammates was quite expensive and it was just laying on top of the bed, unharmed, so the motive could not have been burglary.

In fact, she knew the motive. She knew exactly who had done it. And she knew one more thing – she had to get the Hell out of there, immediately.

While trying not to freak out while cleaning up the room, the one thing that she was most worried about was the huge writing on the vanity mirror. It had been written with Emily's new red lipstick, one she paid good money for. And it simply said one thing: REVENGE

She grabbed a few wet wipes and she smudged the letters. There was no way she could make them go away completely without using a detergent, but at least she could delete what the message said.

Then she quickly packed her things and she put a few more objects back in place, so that the room would look presentable. The night lamp was on the floor and one of the drawers had been ripped out of the wardrobe, so she fixed that and walked to the living room, where Richard was watching Tom and Jerry.

"I love this cartoon." She smiled, surprising him with a small caress against his chest, as she walked towards him from behind the couch.

"Let's watch it together then!" He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm of it.

"No, I need some fresh air. How about we hit the road? I can't wait to see the French Riviera!" Her word was like the law to him, he just had to obey her.

They walked to the front desk of the hotel and, after some convincing, they were able to cancel her stay there for the rest of the week. Emily has had enough of Paris, in the shoes of Lauren Reynolds. She needed to leave. Quickly.

They found themselves on the road once again and Emily, as she had predicted, was hungry again.

At some point, Richard noticed Emily was curiously looking out the window, as if she wanted to see more, to explore more.

"Want to make a stop? We can find a place for the night and then hit the road again tomorrow." He suggested. He wouldn't mind getting to hold her again, as soon as possible. That was, of course, if she even wanted to share a room.

He exited the highway and they found themselves in the middle of a beautiful small French town. Flowers were sitting on every window and the gardens were beautiful. Emily kept on smiling as they walked around, looking for the restaurant that would look the most appealing to them.

Small town in France meant big plates of food and Emily was quite happy with that. She finally got food that was not fancy, but still, just as delicious. And moreover – it was enough to satisfy her hunger. Well, it only satisfied one specific hunger she was feeling.

After dinner, they walked around some more, wanting to explore more of this hidden beauty. Emily's heart skipped a beat when Richard's hand searched for her own. He made her twirl in place before he held her close. He didn't kiss her right away. No. He just stared at her face, like he had done many times before. And he smiled. She smiled as well, although she wasn't sure why. She wasn't one of those oddly happy people who would walk around and spread joy in the world. She'd only smile when there was a specific reason for it.

His right hand trailed against her lips in such a teasing way that Emily was about to lose her mind. She had to remind herself to breathe, before she'd faint. She hated it.

She also loved it. All of it. Every damn second of it.

His left hand pulled her closer and Emily realized one thing – Richard really liked holding her upper thighs. He wouldn't hold her sides, like normal people usually would. He'd go straight for the upper thigh, which Emily never really paid attention to, as a part of her body. It was basically just a bone, it was where her jeans usually laid on and there was not much more she could say about that area of her body.

But she was slowly realizing how good the touch, right there, made her feel. It was intimate. A friend would never hold her like that. She would never let anyone hold her like that. It was a bit straightforward, but with Richard, she did not mind. She felt like, in a way, he was saying "You are mine" and that, once again, made her smile.

He not only let his hand sit on top of her upper thighs, but he would occasionally squeeze it gently and give it the tiniest little pat, right before he'd let go of her, or move his hand elsewhere.

As soon as he graced her with that long awaited kiss, she noticed another motion – he accompanied her body in perfect sync, as she moved a little, during the kiss.

"I am an idiot!" – Emily thought to herself, realizing that she was, indeed, a moaner whilst kissing. She didn't think she'd ever done that, with any other partner she had ever had.

Richard was giving her so many 'firsts' that she almost felt fifteen again. Well, the part of her fifteen years of age when she was still pure, innocent, happy. A child, basically.

A child…

Emily opened her eyes for just a second, confirming something to herself: tall, dark, black hair, amazingly white teeth, great skin, gentle smile…

Yes, Richard Jr. would be the sweetest thing in the world.

Emily chuckled against his lips, realizing just how far her thoughts had just taken her.

"What are you thinking of?" He asked curiously.

Richard loved seeing a happy Emily. He wasn't even mad that her chuckles had put a stop to that beautiful thing he was doing to her just seconds ago.

"Trust me, you really don't want to know!" Emily laughed and leaned against his chest.

He was taller than her, so her head rested at a very comfortable place. It felt like this part of his body was specifically made for her to lean against.

She was curious what other parts of his body would be the perfect fit?

"Oh my God…" She muttered to herself, still mentally calling herself an 'idiot'.

She could not shake him off her thoughts, but luckily for her, she didn't have to. At least not for the next few days.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her close to him for another minute before they started walking again. They were still in need of accommodation, so they decided to go back to the city center and find something they liked.

Soon they spotted a small boutique hotel and, walking in, Emily's jaw dropped. The place was beautiful and she felt pampered. Her life usually revolved around traveling, but she'd only ever travel to go see crime scenes and dead bodies. This was very new to her.

"Would you like some wine?" Richard offered, opening the mini fridge.

"Oh, no. The last couple of times I had quite the time after drinking. I think it's best if I stayed sober. But you can have some, if you want." She yawned, the jet-lag finally catching up to her, after all this time on the continent.

"I'm good. I'm actually tired, as well. We should go to sleep." He suggested.

Emily pointed to the master bedroom, as if she was inviting him to join her. It didn't even feel awkward this time, it actually felt like the right thing to do.

She hopped in the shower first. Two minutes later she realized she had forgotten to grab that mini travel sized shower gel that she had bought the previous day, so she walked out, clutching the bath robe against her naked body.

She found Richard on the balcony, talking on the phone.

The TV was on and quite loud, too, so she could barely hear what he was saying. All she could understand was that he was asking about a "ring" and then he spoke about a "man" and a "car". None of it made sense.

He turned around, as he was pacing, and he was startled when he saw her, staring at him. He quickly cut the call short and walked in the room.

"What's up?" She asked curiously.

"Nothing. Just making some work-related arrangements." He replied very calmly.

Emily studied his behavior. The way he spoke suggested that he was telling the truth.

"You never told me what your job is." She said shyly, trying to play him.

"Neither did you." Was he a player that just refused to get played by Emily Prentiss?

"I told you, I work with people." She smirked.

"Well, then I can assure you that you and I have the same exact job." He smirked back.

Something about him made it clear that he wouldn't give in. She respected that.

"I doubt that. You'd hate having a job that, even remotely, resembled mine." She shrugged and turned around, grabbing the shower gel from her suitcase and entering the bathroom.

When she was done with the shower, she changed into her new night gown and laid in bed, realizing that Richard was already asleep.

"I should have had the damn wine!" She muttered to herself.

This whole trip was messing with her head. She'd feel happy, then she'd feel confused, then she'd feel appreciated and then she'd feel even more upset, realizing that none of this was what her life was really like.

Moreover, there was a deadline to her fairy tale. Cinderella Prentiss would disappear into thin air, no later than Sunday evening. And this time, she was finding it hard to even think about leaving. Why did he have to mess with her head and make her all…normal again?


Angie woke up on Thursday morning, feeling sick. Bryan had, once again, crashed in her room. None of them knew if it was even okay for them to mix, since all the other trainees had same-sex roommates. But that hardly seemed like something important enough to get them into trouble. Plus, all they did in that room was study, discuss studying and then study some more. And sleep, in separate beds. So, how bad could it be if someone found out?

"You're as pale as canvass." Bryan pointed out when their morning physical training started.

They were outside and it was a bit chilly that morning. Angie was wearing a tiny little top and some Nike Pro shorts, but she felt like she was boiling inside of those. It felt like her insides had caught fire and she was unable to cool her body down. It didn't even help being half-naked when the temperatures had dropped down so much. There was a fire inside of her and it was different than the usual fire that there was, on a daily basis.

"Well, I guess complaining about it won't change a thing…" She sighed, starting her round of 50 push-ups. "So, just drop it and leave me alone. Okay?"

Bryan rolled his eyes. She could be a little hard to deal with sometimes.

Their training officer that day was a new guy. He went hard on Angie when she slacked on her sprint run, later on. He kept yelling at her, calling her a failure, which was one thing that Angie both loved and hated being called.

She hated it, for obvious reasons.

And then, she loved it, because hearing those words gave her everything she needed, in order to push herself and do better, even when she was feeling sick beyond repair.

Every time she heard his annoying voice, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she started her 100-meter sprint all over again. And she did that until she met the FBI time requirements. That was a total of 12 rounds and when she finally managed to do it quickly enough, she fell to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Bryan ran to her side.

Placing his hand on her shoulder, he could feel her heart beating like crazy. This was hardly good for her. He also felt the warmth her body was oozing and how her face was even more pale now.

"Yup." She replied with a smile, because in no alter universe would she ever admit defeat.

She laid on the ground for a couple of minutes before the trainer yelled at her again and gave her a penalty of doing another round of 50 push-ups.

Bryan watched her struggle, as he was a bit further away, completing a different assignment, with a different group of trainees. He saw her eyes squint as she pushed every muscle in her body into obeying her need to complete her punishment. He could see her bite her lips and he wondered if this was because of the psychological pressure or if she was simply overwhelmed with nausea. He remembered how she had thrown up a few days ago, during physical training. Something was wrong with Angela and he couldn't quite figure it out. She had started the Academy, being one of the best prepared athletes, and now she was slacking. He hoped that, whatever it was, it would go away. Maybe it was food poisoning? Bad alimentation? That could certainly explain it. She had stopped eating with Bryan, so he never knew what she ate anymore, or if she even ate at all.

"Fifty!" She said triumphantly before she tried to stand up and stretch.

A hard boot glued her to the ground once again. Apparently, her trainer was a rough guy.

"Fifty disgustingly bad push-ups, Trainee!" The man yelled at her. "Twenty more. And if they are not perfect, you do another fifty. Is that clear?"

"Uh-huh." She said quietly, wanting nothing more but to burst out in tears.

"I did not hear you, Trainee!" He yelled even louder. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" Angie called out, as loudly as she could.

She took a moment to clear her mind and to convince herself that she needed to do this. And then she started from the top.

"One…" She squeezed her eyes. Maybe if she didn't see the reality of this nightmare situation, it would feel a little less crappy.

"Two…" It was just as crappy.

"Five…" She was struggling by five, doing them all slowly, mentally revising the right way to do a push-up, according to the FBI Academy standards.

"Nine…" Her voice cracked a little bit and her eyes hadn't opened, not even once, since she started with the first push-up.

"Ten!" Halfway through, she allowed herself to breathe.

"Fifteen…" She needed another deep breath, but she didn't want to waste any time.

"Eighteen…" Her knees gave out and her back hit the ground.

"No, no, no!" She panicked, with her eyes still closed.

"Come on, Angie! You can do this!" Bryan's voice brought her back to reality, which was a place she was not keen on being at that moment. But it served her well.

Angie smiled and took a deep breath.

"Nineteen…" She said, this time with determination in her voice.

"Yes! You've got this! Come on, one more! One perfect, clean, sharp push-up! Come on, you're a champion, Angela! Push hard! Don't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fail. Come on, just one more time. Five-six-seven-eight…" Bryan was now closer to her and this vicinity, combined with his pleasant friendly voice, gave her the final push she needed.

"Twenty!" She counted and this time did not allow her body to give up on her.

"Kind of good." The trainer murmured and walked away.

Only when she heard his footsteps, she opened her eyes and she collapsed once again.

"You were amazing! I'm so proud of you, girl!" Bryan hovered on top of her as she panted uncontrollably.

"You did not just count to me, as a cheerleader!" Even in pain, even sick, even drained out of all energy, she found the strength to push his nerves.

"Well, I figured that's what you were used to hearing when things get rough and I guess that was a good enough command to get you going." He grinned.

"I never even admitted to having been a cheerleader, like, ever." She said defensively, before she laughed out loud.

"You didn't have to." With one hand, he messed with her hair. "Miss Bow Bow."

"Hey!" She rolled on her stomach and gave him a dramatic look. "Don't mess with the bow, bro!"

He put his hands in the air, in mock surrender, before he started laughing as well.

Next on their daily agenda was another Ballistics class, followed by a visit to the Academy shooting range. This time they were allowed to handle real guns, as opposed to the compressed air ones they had during their first SWAT assignment.

Angie was beyond beat. Her feet had dragged against the floor while they walked to the classroom and her hands were shaky and sweaty as she held her gun. Nevertheless, she managed to shoot pretty well, according to Trainee standards. But according to Angie standards, she sucked throughout the entire morning class.

Their instructor didn't miss a chance to insult her and to point out all the things she was doing wrong. But in all honesty, she did not care, at the time being. All she wanted was to be done with classes, so she could go to sleep that evening. Which, sadly, was something that would prove to be hard.

"Do you want to kill yourself, Trainee?" The instructor said as he walked by her and saw how she was holding a loaded gun against her knee.

She had only done so, because at some point her body felt like it was going to collapse again and, as her knees gave out, that was where her hand ended up resting. Unfortunately for her, there was a gun in that hand and an instructor right behind her, as it all happened.

"Do you mean in general or in that specific moment, Sir?" She answered his question with another snappy question, making a few of her fellow trainees laugh.

"You think you are so smart, huh?" The man gave her a stern look, one that made her regret her previous witty comment.

She looked to the floor guiltily and, for the rest of the class, she said nothing at all. It hurt to even try to be present and to listen to everything that was being said.

When she had to shoot at a target, she barely even focused on the it. Her sight didn't register the huge black circle, the one she had to shoot at, so she just shot randomly, hoping it would not get this guy to yell at her again.

At lunch time, Bryan tried to talk her into going to her favorite restaurant, but she refused. It was her first day at the library and she didn't want to bail on it.

"Hey." She greeted the reception girl, as she walked in the library.

The smell of old paper made her feel a little less sick, or at least took her mind off thinking about feeling sick.

"Oh, are you okay?" Barbara commented, as soon as she saw Angie's white face.

"Yeah, just a tough day at the Academy." She smiled, as she always did when she was undermining the severity of a situation. "Where do I start from?"

"Are you sure you're good to work? Maybe it's better you go get some rest. You can always start tomorrow." The girl didn't want to let Angie work, seeing how ill she looked.

"No, I'm totally fine. Plus, tomorrow I have my other job. And I need to work today, as well." What she really wanted to say was: Shut up and let me do the stuff that would pay my lunch, because I am starving.

"Okay." Barbara was not convinced, but Angie was an adult and she could make her own decisions.

She showed her a few things that needed to be re-organized and de-cluttered, and Angie was happy to start right away. In fact, working took some tension off of her and she was able to relax and calm down a little bit. However, her body temperature felt like it was rising with any minute that went by.

An hour and a half later, she had managed to do everything that Barbara had asked of her. That gave her half an hour to spare before her afternoon class, during which time she had to get food.

"Okay, thank you. I will see you in two days then." Barbara waved at Angie when she saw that she had finished.

"Wait. What about my payment?" Angie frowned.

"I'd have to ask my boss to give me some extra tickets, but I haven't seen him in a couple of days. I'll give them to you, all together, as soon as I get them. Don't worry. I'm not going to scam you." Barbara said softly. If only she knew how desperately Angie needed those tickets, right away.

"Okay. See you in two days then." Angie shrugged and left the library, feeling upset and even more hungry, now that she knew that there was no way she could get any food.

She walked to the auditorium and decided to spend the remaining 24 minutes before her class, locked in a bathroom stall, close to the study hall.

She thanked the Lord for having such good studying conditions, especially when she saw how clean the bathroom was. That only meant one thing – nap time.

She sat on the floor, in the corner, between the toilet and the wall, and she closed her eyes. Seconds later, she was sleeping.

At some point, she heard footsteps – people were walking in and out the bathroom and it woke her up. She waited for everyone to get out, so she would magically re-appear, without anyone noticing that she had been locked there for so long.

After splashing her face with cold water, she headed to the auditorium, where Bryan had saved their usual places.

"Angie, I can't keep ignoring this. I'm sorry if this comes off rude and if I'm overstepping my boundaries as your friend, but you-…" Bryan started off and she knew exactly what he was going to comment on.

"Hello everyone. Let's start our class with-…" Their teacher walked in and, luckily for Angie, he interrupted Bryan's intervention.

Angie smiled, happy that she wouldn't have to explain herself to Bryan. At least not right now. She knew he wouldn't drop it.

Bryan groaned in annoyance.

Angie was in no mood to sit through another criminal law class, not so soon after the first one they had. It was torture, it was boring and it was nothing that she wanted to hear about at that moment. So, she took a comfortable position and relaxed, trying to block out every word the teacher was saying. She pretended like she was laying on a beach somewhere, hearing only the waves, crashing against the rocks, and the seagulls, flying around. Angie was really good at creating a story and living in it, until the point where she was able to convince herself that this story was real. Which, actually, was hardly a healthy thing to do.

When the class finished, Bryan nudged her and she frowned.

People were forming their little groups, making plans for dinner and drinks that evening, but all she wanted was to sink in her bed and sleep, forgetting about the hunger she felt. She hadn't had any food at all, all day long.

"Hate me as much as you want, but I'm offering you dinner tonight and there is no other option!" He stated, walking behind Angie, who was clearly directed to the dorm rooms.

She shook her head and ignored him.

"Angie, stop!" He called out, but she just picked up the pace.

It was then that Angie met a new side of Bryan.

He ran in front of her, blocking her from taking another step. His hands grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed so tight that she felt like she was going to break. His eyes narrowed and he looked like a wild animal, staring at his prey.

"You need to put that damn pride aside before you let it put you five feet under. Do you understand!?" His voice changed drastically. The nice and pleasant vibration was gone and he just sounded harsh, rude, pissed off. "Damn it, Angela, I'm not putting another girl to the ground!" His emotions got the best of him and he let those last words slip from his tongue, although they did not make any sense to her, nor did she know what he really meant with them.

All she knew was that Bryan was not joking. That, combined with the fact that his grip on her was still just as strong, made her nod in defeat.

He grabbed her hand and forced her to walk in the opposite direction. When they entered the Avocado Bar, he ordered half the menu and he stood there, watching her eat, without saying one more word. The fierceness in his eyes was still there and she did not dare say a word either.

The woman at the counter bagged the rest of their food, to go, and he paid for everything. He then walked Angie to her dorm and, still not saying a word to her, he walked in direction of his own dorm. He would rather spend the night with Jack, than Angie, that day.