CHAPTER 41
THE EMILY PRENTISS THAT I KNEW
"They know we're on to them?" Angie muttered, on her way to who-knows-where.
"Who? The aliens?" Bryan teased her.
"Yes!" She replied, suddenly stopping in place and turning around to face him.
"The whole Alien Crew. That's what I'll call them. You know. Dan, Jack and the others." She added.
Bryan shrugged, realizing he hadn't told her everything just yet.
"We have to be quicker and smarter than them. That's why you and I are going to snoop around and find incriminating stuff about Dan." She suggested.
"Wait. Angie…" He saw her walk away and he had to physically make her stop.
"Dan's not the enemy here." His words made her confused. "When you were in the hospital, I saw him talking to some well-dressed guy, another FBI Agent. He was being really rude and Dan defended you. He stuck up for you."
Angie thought for a moment. Dan had, indeed, been nice to her and he had seemed quite genuine about it. Yes, he was shady, but maybe destroying her was not what was on his agenda.
"We can't do something stupid right now and get us both kicked out of the Academy. Come on now. Don't be irrational. You know better than this! We'll find a different way to get back at Dan's sneakiness." He said while holding her shoulders, so that she wouldn't move.
"Ugh. You're right. I can be a bit too spontaneous at times." She finally admitted.
"Yeah, really?" He said sarcastically.
"We should dig deeper into the Amanda incident. We already know that it was not her blood. It wasn't even human blood. So we can assume nobody died that night. My bet is that this is some sort of a test to see which Trainees would catch up on it. Literally the next day we had this class where the dude told us that, as future Agents, if we see something suspicious, we are required to investigate. Come on, he was obviously pointing at that! And then when we re-visited our crime scene, things had been moved and messed with. It couldn't have been the wind or anything of nature origin. Hello? The wind didn't blow my fairy lights all the way under Jack's bed, intact, at that!" She was starting to piece everything together.
"Hmm, you're right. Then we had the DNA analysis class and this guy, Robert…I remember the lab teacher called him just when we got our DNA results and we were initially unable to figure out that it was animal blood. Robert would have surely known that, but the teacher prevented him from ever talking to us again." Bryan added to the story.
"And Jack started being an idiot, out of the blue. I mean, at first it was Amanda, but then it was like they switched roles." Angie looked towards the sky and realized it was dark and the first few drops of rain started falling on them.
They ran back to the dorms, continuing their investigation inside.
Emily had just managed to get out of the bath and get dressed and ready for bed, when her doorbell rang. She could care less. Let it ring.
It rang again. And again.
"I know you're in there, hot stuff." Morgan called out and it was then that she realized who was at the door.
She had honestly thought that the owner of the car, which window she had smashed that morning, had finally found her apartment and was out for revenge. So she didn't really want to be bothered to go all the way to the door, just to open and to have to contain her urge to shoot him. Because, lately, Emily Prentiss had been thinking about shooting at random targets, a little too often.
She finally got up and opened the door.
"You were just with JJ, weren't you?" She could tell, just by the way he was looking at her, with that fake smile, thinking that he could hide his worried face from her.
He nodded as he walked in.
"I deserve her hatred." She said silently, facing the window, as facing him would make it a bit harder to talk.
He knew how Emily was. There were certain things that made her feel comfortable enough to talk and he just hit all the right buttons.
First, he switched that annoying light off, leaving just a small night lamp to illuminate some of her living room.
Then, he lit a candle – the rose gold one. This was the one which scent had always put Emily at ease.
Forgetting about how Garcia had poisoned Emily and about the side effects of it if she consumed any alcohol, he poured them both a glass of wine – one that had been in her fridge for over a week now, so it was nice and chilly, cold enough to put down a bit of the fire burning inside of her.
Then, slowly, he moved closer to her and his hands rested on her shoulders for a second, feeling all the tension that was build up inside of her.
His fingers closed in on her skin and she felt a tight squeeze on both shoulders. It was painful, but it was oh-so-good.
Still standing with her back at him, she closed her eyes and let her head tilt sideways as Morgan worked his magic with those hands of his.
Emily was a sucker for a good massage and so far, no massage parlor had ever been able to give her the satisfaction that Morgan could. He was the only one who could unload every last bit of pressure from her body. She could feel her troubles evaporating, every time he had put his hands on her. And, at that moment, she was desperate for him to fix her.
A minute into him, working his wonders, he could hear the tiniest, most silent little moan escaping her lips.
His hands were magic, but what she loved the best of all was the fact that, through it all, he didn't utter a word. It was just them, in the dark, surrounded by silence and now the smell of the marshmallow-scented candle…and it was just beautiful. It was peaceful. It was exactly what she needed. He was exactly what she needed.
It went on for about half an hour. He had grabbed a chair and let her sit comfortably on it, while he was untying all the knots of tension in her back and making her see nothing but stars when she closed her eyes. It was pure bliss.
Emily had a pretty good relationship with her colleagues. But some of them were special to her, in more ways than others.
With JJ, she had this weird unspoken relationship – a love so true and deep that it almost freaked them both out. Platonic. Strictly in a friendship kind of way. And yet, real and pure, as if it were the real thing.
With Dave, Emily felt respect, and it went both ways. She loved him for the way he always believed in her and built her up when she was unsure of herself, both in personal and professional manner.
With Garcia it was the kind of love that made them both giggle like two silly school-girls. It was light, it was easy, it was always fun to be around her.
But then, with Morgan…the love went even deeper.
She loved the way he always challenged her. He knew how to push her buttons and he wasn't afraid to laugh at her each time she fell flat on her ass. But he was also there to offer her a hand, to help her get back up on her feet. And he never judged. God bless this man, he never judged her. Even when he had been mad at her, blaming her for leaving, he had never judged her decisions.
"Mmh." She moaned as she felt the last bits of worry leaving her body.
"Calm down, sexy mama." He grinned. "I'm a married man now."
"Morgan, I swear to God-…" She muttered threateningly.
He shook his head. There they were – those words that he had missed so much. She'd usually refer them to JJ, but Morgan felt proud whenever he was on the receiving end.
When she stopped feeling tense under his touch, he let her pajama top scroll back down her back and waited for her to turn around and face him. Because, knowing her, she would.
And she did.
"Thank you." She smiled.
"Oh, I've had time to practice my handy work since I got married. Actually, since we had a kid who started crawling and then eventually walking and running into mama and dada's room whenever he pleases. Had to become creative with those hands. Built some muscle. Yeah!" He said playfully and it made Emily laugh out loud so genuinely, that it warmed his heart.
"You are as dirty as I remember you." She slapped his shoulder.
"As long as you remember me as being dirty, we're all good, Boss." He smirked.
"About that…" She trailed off.
"Emily, I can't." He cut her off, already knowing that it would be extremely hard for him to leave again. Not now. Not when she was like that. Not when he was sure that she would spend every second of their time together, verbally and non-verbally begging him to come back to the BAU.
"There are great schools around here. And you will always have a different babysitter for each day of the week. Mama and dada time, huh?" She knew how to lure him, but he wouldn't budge.
"Emily. No." He said quietly and watched her smile disappear.
"I made a decision and I made a promise to my family. I cannot make another decision now, on my own, not when it would alter the life of three people, in total. I just can't. I'm not just Morgan anymore. I'm a man with a wife and a child. And a new life. I have a new job, Emily. I have a new car, new house that I renovated myself. I even have new friends whom I drink beer with on Thursdays." His words painted a picture of a happy man. But his tone was drawing something a bit messier than that – a scrabble.
"And are you happy with all that?" She challenged him.
He did not reply. He simply looked away.
"You deserve the be Unit Chief, Derek." She said confidently.
"Emily…" She was hitting all the right buttons.
He had always wanted to be promoted to Unit Chief. He had worked his ass off for years, wanting nothing but that title. He had been Hotch's right hand, learning everything he could learn from him and choosing what he would use in his own commanding strategy, the day he would become Unit Chief.
And then Emily had come back and swept it all from under his nose.
He hadn't been mad.
He hadn't judged her.
He had put his ego aside and he had walked out on the field, by her side, having her back and never second-guessing any decision she ever made.
He had been proud of her for being such a great leader for the team.
And that was how she knew that it had to have been him to lead it, all the way.
"I'll step down." She suggested, but her put a finger against her lips. He didn't want to hear it.
"This is you, doubting yourself, Emily Prentiss." His voice, deep and manly, made her weak.
"This is you, thinking you are not good enough. And this is what usually gets you in trouble. Because the Emily Prentiss that I knew – the strong one, the woman who didn't give a crap about what people thought of her, the one who was sure of herself and who always walked with her head held high; that woman had never gotten herself into trouble. But most importantly – she had kept her team out of trouble. That Emily Prentiss was a Girl Boss. A Warrior! An inspiration. A true leader. A Unit Chief one could only ever dream of having. And that Emily Prentiss was a woman who had a very special place in my heart." He grabbed her hand and put it on his heart as he said those last few words.
She felt it beating. Obviously. But, other than a sign that he was alive, it also signified that a part of his heart would always beat for her. It was like he had her name tattooed there, right next to Garcia's.
"So don't go all mellow on me, creating yourself some knock off version of my sexy hot ex-boss and doing no weak ass roleplay, pretending to be her. Na-ah!" He shook his head. God, she missed the way he spoke. She had to physically pinch her left hand, behind her back, just to convince herself that she didn't actually have a crush on this man.
"Because the Emily Prentiss that I knew…" He then put his hands on her cheeks and brought her face closer to his, so that if she failed to hear his words, she could read his damn lips as he spoke. But she had to understand his message very clearly. "She would never back down, to anyone. Let alone to a wannabe dollar store blow up doll with similar facial characteristics to hers. No! The Emily Prentiss that I knew and the one I love so dearly, would call that bitch a bluff and destroy that pathetic frowny face of a creature. And then she would look at herself in the mirror and smile. Because the Emily Prentiss that I knew, knew how to kick ass and survive. And she would never, not in a million years, allow anyone or anything to change her. And that is why I love her."
He saw her chin quiver and he was quick to react.
"Oh, no. No. No." He said sternly, because sometimes Emily had to be given tough love.
"Don't you dare cry on me, hot stuff!" He shook his head and finally let go of her cheeks. "I don't wanna see no sad ass face in front of me. Let alone yours! No, no, no." He grabbed the wine glasses and offered her one, even though the wine was by now warm and probably tasted really badly. It was the alcohol they needed, not the taste of it anyway.
"I can't." She refused and he then remembered what Garcia had confided in him.
"Listen, Prentiss…" He suddenly changed from witty and sarcastic, to super serious.
"I really don't want to talk about it." She warned him, because she was a profiler, just like him.
"I know. And I'm not asking you to. I'm here to listen if you want to talk, and to hold you if you want to cry. I also make a great punching bag, ask my son." He smirked at the end of his statement.
Emily chuckled and he considered that as progress.
"I just want you to know that you are loved. You are enough. And you are amazing!" He said, reassuringly.
"Oh, God." Emily laughed. "When did you start going to church?"
It made him laugh as well. This wasn't exactly the way he usually spoke. But, running out of options here, he tried everything, just to melt the ice.
"Come here, hot stuff." He held out his hands and she sat next to him on the sofa, letting him hold her one more time.
And it went on for what felt like an eternity. She closed her eyes and reminded herself of what he had told her – she was loved. By so many people.
He grabbed the throw blanket and covered her bare feet, as he gazed out the window. It was now raining heavily, a thunderstorm had hit the city hard that night. He was glad that Emily had someone by her side, otherwise she would have felt even more miserable, looking out the window.
"I think I just got my heart broken." She whispered, probably half an hour after he had embraced her.
"I didn't mean to…" He said, a bit unsure of what he had done wrong.
"No. Not you." She said, her eyes still closed.
He didn't ask, because Emily Prentiss did not need to be asked. Emily Prentiss needed to be listened to.
"Last week…" She started off. "I went to France, using an old undercover name of mine. I wanted to spend some time there, eat some good food, go see a show in the theater. Just, relax…"
She felt his hand caress her shoulder, so she continued.
"And I met a guy…" She sighed. "A wonderful French guy, who liked me and wanted to hang out with me. And I spent the whole week with him."
Morgan suppressed a chuckle. He had heard some of Emily's old naughty stories and he was sure this would be one for the books.
"No. It wasn't like that." She denied what he was thinking of, as if she had read his mind. "He was kind and handsome and he didn't…he wasn't…it wasn't like before. It was elegant and nice…and I know that 'nice' is a stupid word and it has a really bad connotation to it, as if the thing I'm calling nice had actually been basic and boring. But that's not how I mean it. I mean-…"
Morgan pat her shoulder a couple of times, as if to let her know that she was slowly becoming a version of Spencer, with all of her theories.
"Point taken." She shivered and he made sure she was covered enough. "He never even made advances. I mean, yeah, we fooled around a bit, and stuff…"
"A man who spends a week with you and does not make any advances?" He raised an eyebrow. Something seemed odd to him.
"Well, I mean, we just enjoyed our company. I guess. I don't know. We certainly had opportunities to cross the line. But we didn't, for days…" She trailed off.
"What's bothering you, really?" Morgan didn't want to ask, but he also didn't want to hear all the additional information. He needed the source of her pain, not the source of her happiness before the pain.
"I was getting there." Emily said, hating to be interrupted. "So, a whole week, every second was spent with him by my side. And I didn't find it annoying, you know? We traveled, we explored different cities. It was all great."
Morgan sighed. She was avoiding the real question.
"Fine!" Emily gave up.
"I don't know what's bothering me." She finally said, truthfully.
Morgan thought for a second, mentally revising her words so far.
"Sounds to me like Hot Stuff finally found herself a man that fulfilled her needs, even if he didn't fulfill those needs of hers." He nudged her playfully and she knew what he meant.
Emily shrugged, because she simply didn't know if she could confirm or deny that statement.
"Sounds to me…" He trailed off teasingly. "…like Hot Stuff finally enjoyed someone's company, because of who they are, not because of what they can do for her. To her, I mean." He smirked and she blushed.
"Sounds to me like Hot Stuff now has her panties in a bunch, because she finally realized how hurtful leaving really is." Morgan suggested. He knew Emily enough to know that, the moment she realized she liked that guy, she would have left. And it sounded like she was now regretting that.
Emily looked away, feeling a bit humiliated.
"So, why the sudden change of heart? I mean, don't get me wrong, but you're kind of good at leaving. What's bothering you about this particular time?" There was something he couldn't quite understand about this situation.
"Realizing how hurtful leaving is? Check." She confirmed just a part of his statement.
Morgan squeezed her shoulder, urging her to keep talking.
"But it wasn't me who left…" She said in a tone just above a whisper. God, that felt so weird to admit. And borderline humiliating. She felt like she just lost a part of herself, admitting that.
However, she had no idea how much she acquired by this confession.
She got back a part of the real Emily Prentiss back – the vulnerable one; the one that was willing to be truthful, when talking to a good friend.
"Oh…shit." He felt like he had been hit in the head with a sledgehammer.
Even though she had been truthful, she never allowed herself to look at him. Or rather – she never allowed him to see her face, in that moment.
"The player got played…" Morgan, in typical Morgan fashion, put it in his own words.
To say that he was surprised would be a huge understatement. His mind could not register the fact that, out of all people in the world, Emily Prentiss got played. And, out of all the things in the world, she got played at her own game.
Sure, he could have worded it a bit better…
He felt her body shift and he held her tighter. At that moment she realized that the people who were meant to be in her life, would never let go. It made her feel a bit better. Just a tiny little bit better.
"What did he say to you?" He asked, because if anyone could read into a player's word, it was Morgan – both as an ex-player himself and as a banging good profiler.
"This…" She slid her hand under the sofa cushions, grabbing the piece of paper from where she had hidden it.
She had chosen the couch, because she often sat there. Placing the paper under it was her own way of telling Richard to kiss her ass after what he did to her.
Morgan tried really hard not to show how surprised he was that Emily didn't even gotten to have an actual conversation with the guy. Like, all she got was a letter? Come on!
He read slowly, soaking in every word. At times, he went back and re-read certain lines. His eyes went dark and narrow as he analyzed every dot, every letter on that piece of paper. He was good at reading people, but he was really bad at telling people things they didn't want to hear; things that would only confuse and hurt them even more.
So, he decided to keep his final thoughts to himself. And he chose to play Emily at her own game, as well.
"Look, you can't let this reflect on your job. Especially not now, when our team is under investigation!" He changed topic, like it was the easiest thing to do.
"Your team." He then corrected himself, feeling a little bit hurt. Just a tiny little bit hurt. Okay, a lot.
Emily sighed and stuck the letter back under the sofa cushions. The change of topic was fine with her. She didn't want to talk about it anyway. She had just figured that, if anyone in the world would understand, it would be Morgan.
And yet, she didn't feel like they were quite on the same page.
"You will always be part of my team." She said encouragingly.
So many contradicting thoughts were going through his head.
"It just sucks." She whispered and he knew she was referring to both the previous topic and the new one, too.
He could feel her pain. He knew how vulnerable Emily was, even if she had this exterior of a bad ass, independent woman. She needed to be loved.
Morgan closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a large sip of his warm white wine while he tried to push his final thoughts of that unknown guy out of his mind. He didn't want to think about them and Emily surely wouldn't want to hear about them, for two reasons.
One, because his profile was completely different than what he knew Emily was perceiving this guy as, at that moment.
And two, because someone wise once told him that "When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen."
And that someone wise was now clinging onto him for dear life, shivering in his hands.
"Are you cold?" He asked.
"No." There she was – the Emily Prentiss that he knew. The headstrong one who wouldn't show weakness. The one who just pulled the throw blanket a little closer, tucking herself in, because she didn't need a man to do it for her.
He smirked. That woman would never change her ways!
"I'm empty." She then whispered.
"Every time you feel like that, just remember that the Emily Prentiss that I knew…" He leaned over, his mouth now almost pressed against her ear, as if what he was about to say next had to be heard by her only.
"…She didn't need no man to fulfill her." He whispered.
She smiled. Throughout this whole evening, Morgan had painted a picture of this Emily Prentiss person that he knew before and the Emily that was now all broken, in his arms, quite liked the woman he was telling her about. She sounded awesome.
Finally, she let her body have the rest it needed, now that her mind was a little bit cleared. Just a tiny little bit.
She sighed, exhaling all the negativity, and tried to breathe in some fresh air after that. Then she closed her eyes, just for a second…and she was asleep before she knew it.
