CHAPTER 108

MY BIGGEST DESIRE, MY BIGGEST REGRET

"Focus…" Someone commanded themselves, surrounded by nothing but darkness in their own office.

The only source of light came from the computer screen where they were reading some document intently and trying to nitpick through all the legal and barely legal loopholes of whatever it was. It was proving to be giving them a headache and the fact that they were thinking about at least five other things at the same time did not help them make sense of this document any easier.

"Focus, please…." They groaned, somewhat in annoyance.

A glance at the clock confirmed that two and a half hours ago had started that sweet countdown of extra hours that they were surely not going to get paid for. It was okay, this was a personal matter after all. They just needed the comfort of their office and the silence it offered them. Everything seemed so peaceful at that time of the day. It was quiet, no people, not much movement around the hallways.

"Focus, damn it!" They repeated a third time, hoping for a better result.

A knock on the door served as a yet another distraction.

"Yes?" They answered loud enough.

"Uh…" Someone cracked the door open and looked at the person, sitting behind the desk, before checking out the name tag on the office door and on the tag that was sitting in the perfect middle of that person's desk.

"Agent…Monkey?" The guy who had knocked on the door, asked in confusion.

It only took the office owner a split second to stand up, straighten their smart suit and give the guy their best version of a calm half-smile.

"Uhm, this is probably some type of a joke…or I might be at the wrong place, but uh, someone begged me to deliver this envelope and before I could ask whom I should deliver it to, they had disappeared. So yeah, it says Monkey as recipient, but there's also your name…on the print, so I thought I'd give this a shot…" The guy shrugged, feeling a bit intimidated by the person in front of him.

He just called a Superior a 'Monkey'. What if this was a prank and he was being set up by his friends? He had just transferred from another field office and he was still testing the waters with his new Unit members. He was young, naïve and very helpful, apparently, as he had been coaxed into delivering an envelope way past midnight, by someone he had never even seen before. How could he have said 'No' to those beautiful green eyes?

"Don't worry. You most definitely got the right person to deliver this to. Thank you." Monkey replied calmly.

They knew this was the calm before the storm. They just had no idea what storm was about to hit them once they'd open that envelope.

The younger Agent nodded politely and exited the office, glad that this hadn't turned out to be more awkward than he had anticipated.

With a deep sigh, Monkey brought the envelope closer to their chest. It felt warm and they knew it was just pieces of paper and that this was a ridiculous thought, but they could almost swear they felt the warmth of the person who wrote whatever was inside. It certainly smelled like them, too - like something sweet, but also flowery, but also mysterious, but then also there was this hint of danger, a vague remembrance of something unknown, a sweet déjà vu. Monkey's olfactory senses were hit by a bouquet of smells that triggered a series of emotions.

At first, there was denial. This could not be happening. This person from their past could not be reaching out, after they asked Monkey to stay away. No, this was not real. This was a dream.

Then came anger. How dare they reach out, after they shot Monkey down? Why would they ask for fair play, if they'd go breaking their own rules subsequently? How dare she? Who did she think she was?

Naturally, then came the bargaining stage.

"What if I throw this away? Yeah, that would make sense – if I don't read it, I won't be hurt and if I'm not hurt then everything is okay, right? Sounds like a good compromise. So, I throw this in the bin and I never look back…right?" Monkey thought to themselves, trying to come up with a good bargain for this delicate situation.

Seconds later Monkey was overwhelmed by the power of sadness. The last bits of hope all the bargaining had given them went out the window in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but pain in their stomach – a kind of pain that Monkey could only put one definition to: the pain of a great loss, again.

Opening their eyes, they noticed the envelope was still pressed against their chest, with their heart now racing at accelerated speed. Was this even healthy?

"Okay…well, I knew this was coming…" Monkey started to mumble to themselves.

"So, I guess now that it is here…literally…here…" They sighed once more, looking at the envelope.

"Guess there's nothing I could do to change this…so I might as well accept it, right?"

They caught a glimpse of themselves in the window of their office door, as they were stood immobile by it ever since they had been handed the 'paper daemon', a.k.a. the envelope.

What they saw was fear. Why were they scared? It was just a piece of paper, right?

That piece of paper, however, might change their entire life…for better…or for worse…

"Come on, I've talked the guns out of the hands of serial killers. A little credit here, okay?" They said to the reflection of themselves, unsure if those were words of encouragement or just pure irony.

If they were in front of a serial killer, they'd be calm. They had a name for remaining super chill in the most dangerous situations. They wouldn't even flinch, which had often preoccupied their colleagues, especially at the beginning of their career. They were tough, at least on the outside. They would never show fear, never admit weakness.

Then why was a piece of paper making them feel so…uneasy…

So…vulnerable…

So…imperfect…

So sloppy…

So human…

Angie's letter – the one she had frantically written a couple of days ago, in Emily Prentiss' office, on her own branded paper; was now about to be opened, by the same person who built her up and broke her down. Twice.

That person took a deep breath, closed in an office room, with the curtains down, so that nobody would see them. Just in case of a meltdown.

Their fingers brushed against the envelope. It looked like it had been sealed in a hurry, like Angie did not want anyone else, but that person, to ever lay eyes on it.

They smiled, preparing mentally for the tears that they knew were going to come.

They wanted them to come.

They needed them to come.

With a deep sigh, trying to fill their lungs with courage, they started reading slowly, hoping for the best.


Hey,

Here I am, reaching out after I asked you to stop doing just that. Thank you for respecting my request, by the way.

I took my time to think about me. About us. Not so much about you. In fact, I did not think about you at all.

I did this for me. And, for once, it feels good to put me first.

I have thought a lot about what I want.

I know you love me. I know you always will.

But…I think it is time for me to build something new for myself.

Without you…

Other people now want me in their lives. I am happy. I feel wanted. And that's all I've ever wanted to feel.

Wanted…

Good enough.

Why wasn't I good enough for you?

Each time I think about you, this question haunts me.

It scares me.

It makes me feel weak.

And those new people in my life – they make me feel strong. Wanted. Good enough. They want to fight for me.

So, I have to give them a chance.

I'd be crazy not to.

This is all I've ever wanted.

I don't think it was realistic of us to think that we had an eternity to be together, if we weren't even being ourselves to start with.

I wasn't being myself.

I loved every moment with you and I am never going to forget that.

But I need to let go.

I need to make space in my heart, for new people - ones who want me.

Ones who make me feel good enough.

I'm always going to love you. But I don't think I'm able to let go of the resentment I still hold, against you. Against what you did to me. Twice.

And I don't want to wake up one day, hating you. So, I need to put a stop to this. To us. Now.

Because now I have someone else. A completely different person. A kind one, someone I believe is genuine when they say they are always going to fight for me.

Call me naïve, I've been burned twice, but I really do believe them now…

It's not healthy for me to go on, longing for you, if you never really existed anyway.

So, in order to move on, I have to say Goodbye to you…

This is not really a 'Goodbye'. It's an unconventional 'I Love You' – one that only you and I can understand the worth of.

It's time for me to promise my Always & Forever to someone new.

And I am excited to do so.

I am finally good enough for someone who really wants me.

And I could only hope they won't break me, like you did. Twice.

Thank you for giving me everything you possibly could.

Thank you for loving me unconditionally.

Thank you for believing in me, but mostly – for teaching me how to never doubt myself.

Thank you for understanding me, with all that I stand for, all that I represent.

Thank you for every single moment we have spent together.

Also…thank you for breaking me so damn hard. It made me stronger, it taught me how to fight, how to survive.

Thank you for never forgetting about me and for wanting me, still.

But I am done…

This is where I draw the line between you - as I knew you; and me – as you knew me.

This is where it all ends.

The end of a journey.

The end of an era.

The end of us.

My entire life I never thought I'd find myself writing something like this. And I'm not going to lie – this hurts like a bitch.

And yet – here I am. I am tired…I am sick of all the lies and pretending. I just want a fresh start. And I don't want it to be with you, as I knew you.

As I'm writing this right now, someone is looking over my shoulder - literally and figuratively.

I'll let them look out for me, but I won't let them catch a glimpse of these words. I don't mind you knowing about them, but I don't want them to know about you. You do not exist. I do not know you. Apparently, I never knew you as well as I thought I did. Maybe you were a ghost – a product of my vivid childish imagination. I don't know what the Hell you were, but I loved you and I know I always will.

But this is it.

I am done.

I am so tired…

It is killing me inside and I know I won't ever move on, until I let go of you – of what you represent.

You are the best of me and you are the worst of me.

You were everything to me.

I feel like I'm betraying you now, but I must move on.

I am scared…

And I am also excited…

Maybe I'm making a colossal mistake, but it is my decision and it is my life…

We both knew this moment was coming, so I hope it gives you the peace and clarity that I hope it will give me, too, once I send this letter out.

I love you.

I always will.

I just knew this wouldn't last forever.

- Your precious little diamond… L.R.


By the end of the letter, the person that Angela so eagerly liked to call 'Monkey' was crying uncontrollably.

The tears had started pouring while reading the very first phrase, if they had to be honest with themselves, but what had sent them into an intense psychological turmoil had been the signature.

It finally downed on them – their little girl would no longer use those initials. She would no longer be their precious little diamond. And she would no longer call them that one sweet word that made their heart melt.

"This is good…" Monkey whispered.

No, it wasn't good for Monkey. As the writer of this letter had stated – this was the end of an era.

"This is what she needs…" Monkey then added selflessly.

Screw their own feelings. Their little diamond deserved better. She always had.

Their hand rested on their heart for a long moment before it wiped a few hot tears from their now rosy cheeks.

"I just want you to be happy, baby…" They said, now suddenly addressing the author of the letter directly and feeling like they couldn't possibly feel any further from them, at that moment. Feeling like they had lost that sweet little girl, the one they remembered so vividly.

"I'm always going to love you."

One hand went back to their heart.

"But now it is time for her to love you forever." They said while brushing their fingers against the signature on the bottom of the paper that Angela had written on.

"Emily Prentiss – BAU Unit Chief" Monkey read in a weak whisper, suddenly feeling a certain wave of freedom, a weight being lifted off their shoulders…a sadness, but one that was no longer going to hurt the girl behind the beautiful green eyes.


"I may have dug myself a hole that I can't seem to be able to crawl out of!" Emily stated as soon as she walked in Martha Allen's office.

With everything going on in her head recently, paired up with the ending of her first ever Big-Little week, which she had actually enjoyed, plus her unresolved feelings for a certain French man, had pushed her to drop the paper work that morning and to go see her therapist Martha Allen instead. Maybe that will help?

She only had sixty minutes to figure her life out, because that was what she was determined to do on that very same day – figure it all out. Naively, Emily thought this was possible.

"And you need me to give you a magic ladder to just comfortably climb out of the mess?" Martha chuckled, motioning for Emily to take a seat.

"Something along the lines of that. Yes. That actually sounds lovely!" Emily grinned, giving herself just a couple of seconds to enjoy the amazing sound of Martha's suggestion before the woman would inevitably bring her back to the harsh reality.

"Come on, Emily…" Martha started off calmly, with a smile. "What's bothering you? Is it still that case?"

"No." Emily said quickly. "I mean, of course that case bothers me and I don't know if it will ever stop bothering me. But this time it's personal. I find myself sort of torn in half. Actually, scratch that – I'm torn into three pieces. Ha, now that's a threesome I never wanted to…uhm, nevermind." She blushed at her last idiotic comment. Why did she always have to go and say something sexual?

"With each piece of you wanting something different?" Martha asked and Emily nodded. "What makes you think you can't be Emily Prentiss and have all three things? What gave you the impression that you have to live three realities, in order to have what you want?"

"Well…it's complicated…"

"Isn't it always, with you?" Martha smirked.

Emily was probably her favorite patient of all times. That woman had been through Hell and back, multiple times, and each time she had bounced back, getting stronger. It seemed like everyone else was seeing this – everyone but Emily herself.

"Alright, so Emily Prentiss clearly wants her job and her team. At this point I don't even care about the budget cuts anymore. I mean, yeah, it sucks, but we've found a way to work with what we have and it hasn't affected our quality of work…well, not majorly anyway. So I'd say Emily Prentiss is okay. Wow, I mean, for once, who I really am is better off than the alter egos I'm living as, on the side." Emily laughed at her own realization.

It had always been the other way around. That was the whole point of making up characters and playing them with precision – trying to make herself believe she was them, while giving them a certain glamour, a certain aspect that Emily Prentiss would love to have in her life, but just was not able to, not as herself anyway.

"I'm glad to hear that." Martha smiled again.

"Right…well, enjoy that feeling before I tell you about Lauren…" Emily rolled her eyes. "That bitch just had to go and explore the world! Fine, but I came back hating life even more than what I already did. And that says a lot!"

Martha raised an eyebrow at the ease with which Emily started talking about Lauren. That never usually happened. Martha would have to beg Emily to share anything Lauren-related, and yet there she was, pouring it all out willingly.

"To make it short, I went to Paris and I met an incredible guy. To make it even shorter, he disappeared, leaving me a note that still makes me cry. And I hate that! Okay? I hate how a stupid piece of paper makes me feel! I wouldn't have blinked if he put a revolver to my head or a knife to my throat, but this damn note…ugh…" Emily shivered, just thinking about it.

She had spent days, trying to stop thinking about it. She had done pretty well with not reaching out to grab it from underneath the couch, for a while now. However, she could not stop thinking about him. It was new to her, confusing, enraging, it was a whole spectrum of feelings that were meshed together.

"A guy?" Martha asked, unsure if she had heard correctly.

Since when did Emily Prentiss ever talk about her love life, in therapy? It was incredibly hard to make her talk about Lauren, but it was beyond impossible to ever have her share something about any man she had ever gone out with. Martha knew nothing about Emily's relationships, or the lack there of. She had come to her own conclusions, based on how Emily disregarded love, feelings, romanticism, relationships, but something about the version of Emily that she was currently seeing was telling her that maybe those conclusions had not been as correct as she thought. Maybe Emily was not completely against love. Maybe this was the new version of Emily – one who was excited to give someone a chance.

Martha was conflicted. She had a million questions, but she didn't want to push Emily, who had always been nothing but reserved when it came to relationships.

And yet, there she was – openly sharing something so intimate.

"Point is – I need it to stop! I can't keep pretending like I'm Lauren and like I ever had the chance to be with this guy. It was just a week of…well…" Emily stopped herself for a second. There wasn't a word nice enough, to explain what this week had meant to her.

"I think I get the point." Martha blushed, imagining what a grown up woman might have meant. Plus, she already knew about Emily's healthy appetite for the opposite sex.

"No. It wasn't like that. Not at all. It wasn't about the physical aspect. It was…I don't even know what the Hell it was. Isn't that why I ended up here?" She pointed at the couch and Martha was even more confused.

Emily Prentiss was the biggest Grinch when it came to love. She had only briefly spoken about men and how her so called 'relationships' had always been based on the physical pleasure, with no feelings at all, at least on her side. And yet, she was now sharing the complete opposite.

Was she pranking Martha? Everything she said and the way she spoke, was the contrary to everything Martha thought she ever knew about this woman so far. The Emily Prentiss that had walked into her office years ago would have never cared about a guy, not enough to end up in therapy, trying to work out how he had made her feel, even with the lack of physical intimacy to the relationship.

To Martha it seemed like the world was coming to an end.

"We hung out, we went on small trips, we ate, we talked for hours, we did nothing more than just that. Well, except for that last night…but we're not discussing that." It was now Emily's turn to blush. Apparently, it hadn't been completely strictly platonic after all.

To Martha, the fact that Emily refused to speak about that night, showed that Emily actually cared enough, to want to keep it to herself. It hadn't been 'just for the fun', otherwise Emily would have no problem boasting about it after mentioning it on her own. Everything showed that the night in question had meant something to her – something that she wanted to keep for herself, to cherish and to remember.

Had it been JJ in front of her, Emily would have felt comfortable sharing everything, to the very last detail. But with Martha she felt weird, so she decided to focus on everything else and to just briefly touch up on the fact that it hadn't been all platonic after all.

"Sounds like a fun week, indeed." Martha was at the loss of words, so those were the only ones that rolled off her tongue, as soon as she opened her mouth.

"It was! That's what sucks about it! It was nauseatingly fun, enjoyable, romantic even. We held hands!" Emily raised her voice with her last statement. "Eww, I, Emily Prentiss, held hands and actually enjoyed it!"

"Wait, didn't you say it was Lauren?" Martha corrected her.

They had previously established that Emily and Lauren were complete opposites, but they were part of the same person – Emily Prentiss. However, Emily had always been good at differentiating between her real self and her Lauren alter ego.

"Here's the thing that trips me the most…" Emily lowered her voice and narrowed her gaze on Martha.

"It started with Lauren and then she hated the guy. He would have bored her out of her mind. He'd be so wrong for Lauren, she might have ended up being the one holding the revolver, against his forehead." Emily rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Somewhere along the way, and I didn't even notice when it happened, Emily came along and she…" Emily licked her lips. This felt so weird to share. "She kind of liked him, okay? But she never told him she wasn't Lauren, so this kind of all went wrong…"

"Did he find out you lied about who you were and that's why he disappeared?" Martha supposed.

"No, he has no idea who I am and he sort of made it clear that he didn't care. Not in a bad way, just…you know, whoever I was, he was enjoying my company regardless." Emily replied.

"Could it have maybe been that he just enjoyed your company for a while and that's all he really wanted from you? Don't take offense, but some guys just like the chase and when they get the prize, they're off to the next prey." Martha shrugged. Her suggestion was what made the most sense to her, not knowing all the details yet.

"You see, I've given this some thought. But no, I don't believe this could have been about the case. Here's the thing – he was genuine. He couldn't have faked the interest he was showing. And I didn't know a thing about him, but I still wanted to…"

"Wanted to…what?" Martha urged her to continue that thought.

"I wanted to see where this might go. For the first time, I wasn't eager to leave. I wasn't bored and I felt like this was actually a good thing, you know, an equal kind of a position. I wasn't the bigger one and I wasn't the lesser one. It wasn't even a competition. It was…fun…light…easy…but not in a meaningless way. It was just…I don't even know the right words…it was…great…yeah, that's what it was. It was actually great." Emily sighed once more.

A lot of trailing off was going on while she spoke and Martha figured it was important for Emily to put it all in the right words, to take her time and to make sure she was eloquent. It all pointed to a genuine side of Emily, one that was finally opening up to her therapist, like a patient was supposed to.

Martha remembered the last time Emily had spoken about a man she was dating, calling him 'Sergio – the perfect man'. That had been nothing but a pile of lies and, even though Martha had suspected it right away, she had let Emily pour it all out, live out that fantasy, pretend like she was fooling her therapist, so she could be cleared for duty.

This time, however, Emily sounded genuine. She was a bit emotional, a bit confused, a bit impatient to figure it all out in under sixty minutes, a bit of a mess, a bit excited and a bit scared. She was in love. This time, this man was surely not a cat. He was surely not a lie. And he was surely not going to make life easy for Emily Prentiss if actions were not taken, instantly.

"So now you wish this could have continued?" Martha asked rhetorically.

Looking at the woman, sitting across from her – on the edge of the sofa, like she was ready to dart out and go search for this guy instantly, Martha knew what Emily really wanted. She didn't need her to admit that and she was sure as Hell Emily would never admit such a ridiculous theory.

"No! He made the choice to leave, so now I have no interest in him anymore!" Emily folded her arms defensively, pouting like a child.

Why, of course Emily would build up to some huge revelation, only to then turn around and deny it all, in a split second, throwing a tantrum.

So much for trying to open up and be honest with her therapist.

"Yup, is that why you barged into my office?" Martha smirked. She knew how to work Emily up.

"Fine. I guess I wished I had the chance to see where it could have gone. But not anymore." Emily shrugged.

"Great, this means you're ready to move on then." Martha said with a faint smile.

She was painfully aware of what Emily wanted, but if Emily wasn't going to be honest with her therapist, then Martha would make Emily sweat until she'd come out and say those words out loud.

"Whatever. I just need you to make it stop!" Emily said a bit snappily.

"Define 'it'."

"It - you know, the constant thinking about him and wondering what if. The fact that I was a complete idiot when I bought a bottle of his perfume and that it's a quarter used now, because I keep spraying it all around my apartment. The dreams I keep having about him and please don't make me elaborate on what kind of dreams those are…" Emily trailed off before she'd share too much.

"Ah, that 'it'." Martha gulped.

Yes, they were most definitely not friends and it most definitely felt extremely awkward to hear Emily hint about such intimate things, after she had spent years avoiding that topic, in therapy.

Emily was so conflicted by Martha's short reply.

"Well, I really don't know what to say, but judging by that death stare you're giving me right about now I'd say you want me to give you advice, so I suppose I should do that before you wave that imaginary revolver around again." Martha spoke softly, giving herself enough time to think of how to word it all.

"I suppose, the way I see it, you have two options – try to work things out with him, be honest with him, and maybe start that conversation with who you really are, not who you were pretending to be…" Martha stated the first option and Emily cringed instantly.

"Yeah, not a chance. What's option number two?" Emily asked right away.

"Move on. It's the healthy thing to do. You've been in meaningless relationships your entire life, Emily. You just met someone now, who taught you that not every relationship is meaningless. He showed you that you can actually have fun and care about a guy. Yes, he hurt you in the end, but he taught you a lesson. Take that and move on, find another guy who makes you feel this way…"

"There is no other guy like him…" Emily muttered quietly.

"You don't know that!" Martha countered right away. "You thought that before you met him and then he made you change your mind. You don't know if one day you'll meet someone you'll like even more than this guy. It's possible."

"No, it isn't." Emily said, not even trying to be rude.

It was the truth. With Richard she had felt something different, something she was fairly sure she would never have again, with any other man.

"Can I give you a small task?" Martha asked.

It was one thing she liked to do with her patients, when she was trying to communicate something to them, but they weren't listening. She would then give them a task, to help them come to the conclusion themselves.

"Give this a try. Go out on five dates. Okay? Try to figure out what you like about those five guys, what they do to make you feel good. Try to picture yourself with them, five years from now. Try to imagine how they would fit into your world. Don't compare them to this one guy you were just telling me about. Just give them a clean slate, let them get to know you – and I mean the real you, not a fake name and fake identity! After five dates, see if any guy made you feel the way this other man made you feel."

"Richard. His name is Richard. You know, like the famous French pastry shops." Emily stated lamely, realizing Martha had to keep calling him 'the guy', as she didn't know his name yet.

"That's a beautiful name. Powerful meaning, too." Martha said politely. "Can you do this, Emily? Go on five dates and give those five guys a chance."

Up until the moment she flew to Paris, Emily would have enjoyed this task, a lot. She enjoyed random dates, she had always liked them because of the 'no strings attached' side of this meaningless dating thing.

But not now. Now, she found herself cringing. She found her heart beating a little faster. She found herself wondering if those five dates would be five times that she'd cheat on Richard. Then again, she realized this thing with Richard was just a fantasy that she had created in her mind. He was gone, he had made it clear that he didn't want to fall in love with her – or rather, Lauren; and he had disappeared.

Then, why the Hell would he leave his phone number? Emily had dealt with mixed signals from men for years, but so far Richard was the mystery that kept on giving, even miles away, without any contact with her. He was in her dreams, constantly.

Sometimes she would close her eyes and be a complete dork, just imagining her future. In one of her fantasies she was Director of the FBI - this was the boldest fantasy she had ever allowed herself to have.

In another fantasy, she was still Unit Chief, JJ was now full time assisting her with the Boss tasks, Morgan was back on the team and everything was normal. They would spend their Friday nights eating Mexican food at their favorite little restaurant and sometimes the girls would go Salsa dancing on a Saturday night. The entire team would still celebrate the important things in life, in Rossi's backyard. But that was kind of the reality she was living in. It wasn't a fairly big fantasy, more like a nicer version of what life felt like, a fantasy that included one of her best friends…Morgan.

Then there was her fantasy of having a child. A daughter. A little girl who would worship her, she'd want to wear her clothes, play with her make-up and Emily would pretend to be upset about it, but deep down inside she'd be screaming with joy. She would have given this girl everything – love and attention, the ones she never received from her own parents, growing up in a broken home, with two political figures.

And, in her recent fantasies, no matter which version she'd daydream about, there would always be a part where Richard would show up. If she was Director, Richard was at her meetings. If she was the Unit Chief with the perfect team and a balanced out life, Richard would be at all those outings, Rossi's backyard parties, nights out dancing. And if she was a mother, Richard would be the one her daughter would call 'daddy' and go cuddle up to in the morning while her mommy made breakfast.

Emily knew those were just fantasies and once she'd close her eyes she was sadly unable to control what she saw – what her conscious showed her, what her heart really desired. Was it really that far-fetched, anyway? Wasn't there, maybe, a way that some of this could become reality?

Emily felt like she was sweating. Coming back from her mental journey in Fantasy-Land, she realized she was still sitting opposite Martha, who had been kind enough to give her a few minutes, to analyze those thoughts that had taken over her.

"Five dates, huh?" Emily repeated, trying to let it sink in. "How on Earth is that going to help me get over someone I want?"

Martha was extremely proud of herself. Through the years she had found the best way to have Emily Prentiss say the truth and the sweetest part was how Emily never figured it out.

If Martha had asked her whether she wanted this Richard guy or not, Emily would have denied continuously. Then why not resort to a bit less of a forward method?

"Like you said – this relationship cannot go forward and it did not sound like you wanted it to, anyway. You are smart enough to know that the best thing to do now is to move on. Maybe one out of those five guys will be it, for you. You can't know until you give it a try." Martha explained.

It all made Emily pout. It sounded wrong, like she was betraying Richard, like she was scratching out that insane connection they had, erasing it from her memories, erasing him from her thoughts. It felt like she was betraying herself too, in the process – like she was going against everything her heart wanted.

"Fine. Three dates!" Emily stated after a minute of deep thinking.

"Five dates." Martha repeated very calmly.

"Two dates?" Emily kept on bargaining and it made Martha laugh.

"Are you completely unfamiliar with the art of negotiation?" Martha could not help but say it out loud.

"Please, let's not offend each other." Emily smirked.

She was the master of negotiation and mind games. She was also the master of denial.

"Five dates!" Martha, however, was the master of getting Emily to do and say whatever she needed her to.

"Fine. Whatever. Five dates. They're all going to flank anyway, so who cares!?" Emily said sarcastically.

"Why would you say that? You haven't even chosen who to go out with!"

"Because I know so. Years of experience in making myself look like a complete fool when I try dating have confirmed my previous statement. Trust me, it's always awkward and it never goes anywhere other than a hook up. And God, maybe that's for the better. I mean, I've been with the most random selection of guys, all of whom bored the crap out of me and I could not wait for it to be over. And please do not make me define 'it'." Emily shied away.

"But then you finally found this one guy who was different. He made you believe that there are guys out there who would be compatible with you – your character, your lifestyle, your sense of humor. Isn't that so?" Martha pushed it one more time. Maybe this time Emily would confirm it?

"No!" Emily replied with the utmost certainty. "Not guys. Him! Okay? Richard! Him! Ugh!" She added with a groan.

Martha started wondering whether Emily was as smart as she claimed to be. How was she not seeing the obvious?

"We have fifteen minutes left now. Want to discuss that third part of you?" Martha changed the topic before Emily would have a heart attack from all the denying and thinking to herself, trying to command herself not to care.

When she had walked in earlier, she had expressed her troubles with feeling like she was divided in three, but so far she was only discussing two of those characters.

"Nope. Weirdly, Emily Prentiss is doing quite a good job in keeping that third part of me sane. I kind of feel like she is slowly acquiring the jewel that she's always wanted in life. It's a lot of hard work and it drains the energy out of my body and soul. But it is so worth it. She's happy."

"Is that jewel the thing we discussed, years ago?"

Emily nodded.

"Good. I am happy for you. For as long as I can remember working with you, this seems to be the thing you've wanted the most, in life. 'My biggest desire, my biggest regret'…isn't that how you worded it?"

"Woah, I said that a decade ago! I can't believe you remember that!" Emily could not hide how impressed she was with Martha's memory.

"Emily, this is the pinpoint of your life, of course I remember it. If I may, this is the one recurring problem you've had for years. It's part of why you never allowed yourself to connect to someone again. You were afraid of how it might end."

"No, I was afraid I knew exactly how it would end – with me leaving. I always do that. I always disappoint the people I love." Emily frowned, searching for a bottle of water.

"And do you think that now, after all these years of wanting this jewel, you might finally be ready to give it all of your love and attention and to promise not to leave?"

"Absolutely!" Emily didn't even have to think about it.

She had lost sleep over this, multiple nights in a row, especially lately. This is all she had ever wanted in life and she wasn't going to jeopardize it. Not again. Not with this precious jewel that she was working so hard to obtain. Not now. Not after all the years of suffering, after the loss.

"Good, because as I am sure you know by now, jewels are pretty, but they break easily and there are just so many times a jewel can be repaired before it snaps."

Martha's words made all the sense in the world.

"It's not just a jewel. It's a precious diamond. It's rock solid, but I'm afraid even in this case I've been able to break it in the past. So yeah, I swear to God I'll do my best to never even scratch its surface again. It's beautiful, it makes me happy and it is everything I ever wanted…" Emily kept dancing around the same conclusion.

"This is part of why I feel so conflicted with Lauren now. How could I not be grateful to have a jewel in my life, as Emily? Why did I have to go out and pretend to be Lauren again? Why did I have to…" Emily trailed off, realizing she was going to say something big.

"…Fall for a guy?" Martha suggested with a smile.

Emily did not confirm that, but she also did not deny it.

"Who says you can't have both?" Martha questioned.

"Then there's also the Emily Prentiss in me who wants her team, her job… I mean, I can't have all three. But then again, I could never deny myself either of those things. I just cannot! And no matter how hard I try, there just isn't a universe in which I could have all three, together. It is not possible! Trust me, I've thought about it a million times, but it's like they are all on different continents…quite literally, actually."

Emily sighed and relaxed her back against the sofa.

She remembered her new task and she wasn't too happy about it. Years ago, even just months ago, she would have been beyond ecstatic to have been ordered to go meet five different guys. Hell, Martha never put a time frame to it, so if she wanted to, she could do that in under 24 hours. The old Emily – Emily, the player, would have considered herself lucky to have been graced with such a green light.

And yet, at that very moment, sitting across from Martha, she felt nothing but anger and the first signs of disappointment. How could she do this? Somehow she knew she didn't even want to do this. It felt wrong.

"We have already established that Lauren is part of you. And you already said that it wasn't Lauren who was interested in this man. Excuse my curiosity, but why are you still distinguishing between yourself and her?" Martha had tried her best to keep up, but something wasn't adding up.

"Ok, therein lies the problem – Richard doesn't have a clue that I am not Lauren. So, technically, I am Lauren, but I'm Emily. See? There was a logical explanation to everything…"

Martha took a deep breath before she spoke again. "May I ask what that explanation is?"

In her mind, nothing could explain why Emily would put herself in such a situation. She was a smart woman, she wouldn't have done such a dumb thing.

Emily then briefly explained how she needed a week off, so she had pretended to be Lauren, but she never imagined she'd end up so attached to someone and thus, so confused as to how she could possibly tell him she had been lying to him, the entire time they had spent together.

"So, clearly I couldn't just tell him I'm Emily. Right? Logical explanation! I told you!" Emily grinned at the end of her mini speech.

Martha regretted not having had any Botox. Surely that would have helped her keep her forehead in check and not raise her eyebrows this much, while listening to all the insane things Emily was saying. The hard part was yet to come – Martha had no right to judge Emily or to tell her what a stupid decision this had been. Emily needed to hear that from a friend. What her therapist could do was to help her figure it out, on her own, without including her own opinion, which would prove to be extremely hard.

"Logical explanation…right?" Emily repeated her question, with a desperately clenched jaw.

So far, she had kept her secret from everyone else, so she had somewhat managed to convince herself that she had done the right thing, as there was literally no one else who could disprove that theory. In her head, Richard was the one to blame for how things had ended. She had only ever told Morgan about her week in Paris and Morgan had been a good friend, refraining from telling her his inner thoughts. In his mind, Richard's letter was not a break-up letter, but a desperate cry for something more, something he wanted from Emily, or rather Lauren. There was no doubt in Morgan's head that somewhere out there in this world, there was now a man, named Richard, obsessing over a woman, named Lauren, upset over the fact that he had been forced to leave.

Then there was JJ, who knew some of it, but not all. Emily hadn't opened up about the way she really felt. She hadn't expressed her desires and what this week left her longing for. JJ never heard about those dreams that Emily had on a nightly basis. She just knew there was a guy and that the letter that Henry had accidentally brought home was the end of this non-existent relationship between him and Emily.

However, now that she was telling someone else – a therapist moreover, one whom Emily had no intention of lying to anymore, even if she wasn't telling the entire truth either; things seemed different. She was slowly realizing her mistake with this guy. If he hadn't had to leave for whatever reason he might have had, he surely would not have stayed, if Emily told him the truth so late down the road.

What if it wasn't his fault, after all? What if, even if this was the first time in her life when Emily did not have the urge to leave, she had managed to ruin a beautiful thing anyway?

"Right?" Emily asked for the third time, now preoccupied by the silence she had received from Martha, each time she had asked.

"Have you told any of this, to a friend?" Martha asked a question, without answering Emily's one, because no – this was most definitely not a logical explanation to the mess that Emily had just found herself in.

"No…" Emily sighed. "Not up to that extent…"

"I think you might need to give this some more thought. This time, maybe, try to be realistic, okay? Try to figure out what would be the best thing for Emily, because you are her, after all. And if that doesn't work out, you still have the assignment - the five dates. Give it a go. See how dating makes you feel right now. Give people a chance, Emily. I know it sounds banal, but it's something you never do. Maybe try to work on that, okay?" Martha said calmly.

If she was Emily's friend, she would have had a lot more to say. She would tell her to screw the pride and the hurt over being left, and to go get the guy she felt so strongly about. She would also tell her that she was being incredibly dumb, to not acknowledge the fact that she was so into this man. She'd tell her it was a beautiful thing, to finally feel such a connection with another human being, after years of trying and failing. And, if they were friends, Martha would tell her all that, and more, over a nice relaxing evening with a few bottles of wine at their disposal.

"I have given it enough thought. I cannot have all three things, at the same time. I can barely figure out a way to have one of them, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a complete egoist and I want all three. Okay? I want all three and that's it! For once, I can be an egoist and believe that maybe one day I can have all three. Right?" Emily eyed Martha, once more asking confirmation that she then did not receive.

Nobody could give Emily the certainty that she needed. It wouldn't be realistic. Nobody knew all the details, so it was entirely up to Emily to figure it all out, for herself.

She walked out of Martha's office even more confused. Thankfully, she was busy for the rest of the day, so she didn't have the time to stress over it until she clocked out. And that was when her struggles started.

"Please tell me you're here!" Emily shot a quick text to SSA Clara Seger in the evening.

"Here, home? Yes, I am. Just got back from a case in Morocco. What's up, love?" Clara texted back almost instantly.

"You and I are going out tonight. Drinks are on me. I'll see you in an hour." Emily texted and hurried to take a shower and get ready to crush her assignment. Or more specifically – to be done with it and to not have to stress over it any more.


"Wow, Emily…damn…" Clara said, as soon as she laid eyes on Emily.

They had met at a bar that same evening and Clara was practically drooling over Emily, with her dress on, those heels, the make-up, the hair.

"Yeah, I need to find a date." Emily stated, walking quickly towards the bar.

If she had to go through five random dates, she'd do so drunk and that was a fact.

"What's with the urgency?" Clara chuckled.

She had been Emily's wing woman plenty of times, but Emily had never sounded so desperate, like she was running out of time and things had to be done immediately.

"Not the kind of urgency you might be thinking of." Emily stated, not giving Clara the time to connect that urgency with a certain other night out they had once been on, where Emily had met Clara with the words: I'm hooking up tonight and I don't care who with.

"Ah…" Clara pretended like it was all clear.

It most certainly was not clear, not even to Emily. She had no freaking clue what she was doing, but she had literally been ordered to do it, so she was set on rushing through her five dates and getting them over and done with as quickly as possible.

"Oh, you smell nice. Have you already had a date tonight?" Clara asked, taking a step towards Emily and sensing a certain male perfume, mixed with her own.

How could Emily start to explain the reason why she smelled like Richard's perfume, if Clara hadn't even heard about Richard at all yet?

"Oh, did your date go wrong? So now you need another one, because, well, you're in the mood, as always?" Clara added with a smirk.

"Shut up, I'm not always in the mood!" Emily said defensively, receiving a disapproving look from her friend. "Okay, fine. I might be a bit of a…you know what? Never mind! I need to find the least attractive guy here and I need to have him ask me out on a date. And vodka. God, I need vodka so desperately right now. Hey? Maybe give your customers a second of your precious time, no?" She ended off with her hand in the air, shouting for the bartender who hadn't yet given her any attention.

"Well, you're not going out with him…" Clara chuckled, noticing how annoyed the bartender was with Emily's rude outburst.

"Great, I'm twice his age anyway." Emily said grumpily, scanning the bar for anyone who was remotely around her own age and who seemed like they weren't a serial killer, or married.

"Well, good luck with the hunt. This place is dead. Honestly, the only semi-presentable human beings here are those two women over there." Clara pointed at a table of two friends who must have been on the hunt as well, much like Emily and her.

"Honestly, I'll take it. She didn't specify a gender." Emily said with a scoff, remembering how Martha vaguely told her to go on 'five dates'. How generously inclusive of her.

"Oh, wow, Emily…someone is feeling extra naughty tonight. How so?" Clara said with a wink. "Wait, she? Who is she?"

"She is my therapist. And Jesus, Clara, I'm not twenty-five anymore. Although, that brunette one sure looks like a snack." Emily said with a cheeky smile, looking at one of the two women Clara had just spoken about.

"What am I even doing?" Emily added, with a sigh. "Why did I think this would be a good idea?"

"Uhm, because I believe you might have remembered certain…fun…from years ago? And you might have been curious for some more?" Clara shot the brunette woman a glance and Emily hit her shoulder.

"Shut up. That's not what I meant. And I'm done exploring the world and all of its diverse beauty. I know what I want now…" Emily trailed off. "And I don't want random dates…" She whispered to herself, with a frown.

At that very moment she realized that this task - those five dates, sounded like the most ridiculous and horrible thing she could ever put herself through. She hated the idea of having to force herself to smile at another man, to flirt with another man, to even think of kissing another man, if that man was not the man her heart already desired.

"Let's get out of here?" Emily added, looking at Clara.

Emily has not yet begun her task and she was already done with it. The Hell with worthless dating.

"I was going to offer you a drink first, but if you insist, let's go!" Some man butted in, coming up from behind her, with this line that was supposed to make her heart melt, or so he thought apparently.

"Uh, who the Hell are you?" Emily turned around, facing the jerk who had dared approach her like this.

"Is the name important?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking he was acting cool.

"Honestly? No. Not at all. You're just a number." Emily said a bit stand-offish.

She did not give a crap how her words came out. She didn't want to be there, she didn't want to date five men and she definitely did not care who those guys were, as long as it was over and done with. She hated failing assignments more than she hated bad dates anyway. So, she'd give this dating crap a shot, she'd bomb it like she knew she ultimately would and she'd go home with a clear conscious.

At least that was what she thought.

"Hold on a second…" Emily said with her pointy finger in the air, making him freeze in place.

Apparently, this was the kind of effect she had on men – this dude did not know a single thing about her, he had no idea she was a boss lady, and yet she was able to immobilize him with just the raising of one finger.

She then dragged Clara to the table of those two women they were discussing earlier, and she took it upon her to leave Clara in good hands.

"Ok, girls, here's how it is: you two and us two are out to find someone. Turns out, I don't care who it is, so I'm out the door with this senseless jerk over there…" Emily stated, pointing at the man who was still waiting for her by the bar. "And this right here is my amazing friend Clara whom I'm leaving in your hands. So, drink, eat, drink some more, enjoy, dance, talk…I honestly don't care what you do. I'm out. Ok? See you." Emily said in a hurry, leaving Clara her credit card, to pay for everything as she had promised.

"Oh and…" She then turned to face the brunette woman. "Damn!" Emily added, eyeing her up and down with a tiny flirtatious grin.

The woman was wearing quite the revealing dress and she managed to pull it off, despite her age. Emily had to give her credit for it.

Then she left, with the guy that she already hated. Wanting some privacy, they walked to the nearest bar down the street and entered. He did not hold the door for her, not that she cared, but it would have been a nice gesture after all.

Clara spent the next hour getting to know those two women that Emily had so generously bounced her off to, and it turned out they were quite funny to hang out with. One was a nurse and the other one's job Clara had to ask about five times before she gave up trying to understand it and just continued drinking. It was something legal, documents about property or whatever. Clara did not give a damn anyway. It was just fun to meet new people. She could have easily gone home, but after all the preparation she had put in for that night out, she wanted to hang out some more. Plus, those women were quite smart and educated, so what could be the harm?

The brunette nurse had asked Clara if Emily was trying to flirt with her or she was maybe reading way too much into that compliment and Clara, if she had to be honest with herself, had no idea how to reply to that question. Emily had her ways of speaking to people where one would never know if she was joking or not. Clara and her had been calling each other cute flirty nicknames for years now, also Emily and JJ were practically work wives and professed their eternal love for each other on a daily basis, and at any occasion where alcohol was involved. Also, Clara had known a wild party Emily in her earlier years, so she knew things. So, she had no idea what was in Emily's head when she complimented people – specifically women; in such a direct, flirty manner. She'd probably compliment even a dog, the same exact way. It confused Clara.


"So, tell me about yourself?" The guy asked Emily, as soon as they sat down.

"My name is Samantha and I'm from New York. I'm here for work, I leave tomorrow afternoon." She said quickly, without much planning.

It was the first thing that came to her mind and she went with it. Who cared anyway? She had absolutely no intention of ever seeing this man again, beyond this one failed attempt at a date. He really was just a number for her – one out of a total of five. He was part of her homework, in a way.

"I'm Thomas, I live in Seattle and I'm-…" He then went on a rant all about himself.

Emily lost him at the first few words. She didn't even catch his name and she most certainly did not care to know where he lived or what he did for a living.

And then she realized she was cheating – Martha had told her to give those five guys a fair chance and Emily had been putting up walls from the second she saw him. Then again, it wasn't her fault that he had approached her in the most arrogant of ways, with the most idiotic catch phrase. He didn't deserve to be treated any better. In her mind, Emily was doing more than she should, considering the circumstances. She was known for coming up with excuses for her actions, when it came to her personal life, and this was no exception.

"It's not going to be a problem, is it?" He asked, at the end of his rant.

"Huh?" Emily snapped out of her mental state of hating herself for taking up on this task.

"The fact that I've been married twice and that I have three kids - it's not going to be a problem, right?" He repeated his question.

Emily was taken aback. She wouldn't care if a man she was interested in had previously been married, but it was a bit alarming when this was the first question to come out of his mouth.

Richard had also been married and he had spoken with nothing but affection, when it came to that marriage and his wife. As she made that parallel, she found herself sniffing the end of a strand of her hair while this Thomas guy kept on ranting about whatever.

It smelled like him – her hair smelled like Richard and that made her smile. Clara had earlier sensed that same male perfume on Emily and she had figured Emily had been out with someone, before meeting with her. The truth was – even when she was leaving her house for a night of failed attempts at dating, she could simply not deny herself the pleasure of spraying some of Richard's perfume on her. This wasn't cheating, it was just…bending the rules a little bit.

This time, she didn't even realize she was drawing parallels. Honestly, five minutes into this date and she was way over it already, so why not entertain herself while this guy went on…and on…and on about himself.

"Do you?" Thomas asked again, trying to grab her attention, for the second time now.

"Do I what?" She asked, completely oblivious to the fact that he had, yet again, spoken about something in great detail and she had, yet again, ignored him completely.

He repeated his question and she was zoned out, despite her best efforts to understand the question better, the second time around.

"Yes, sure, mhm…" She replied absentmindedly.

The guy then elaborated on that proposal of his and Emily yawned. There was one thing that could keep her awake…

"…so we can't go to my place." He ended off yet another speech, during which Emily had been thinking about Richard's abs, about the way her fingers had brushed against his chest that one night that she could still see so vividly, in her dreams.

"Wait, why not?" She asked, out of pure curiosity.

It was painfully obvious what this guy wanted from her, which was a great reason why he was number one on her dating list – he wanted it, she wasn't going to give it to him, and yet she could still call this a 'date'...technically.

"Because my second wife is coming home with the kid and I don't know what time." He repeated.

"Weren't you divorced like, a minute ago?" Of course she would call him out in such a savage way.

Technically he had told her he had been married twice, but he never mentioned two divorces.

"Well…yeah. I mean. I was. I mean, I am. It's just that we haven't signed the papers yet." He stuttered in the lamest of ways.

Richard, on the other hand, had never stuttered. He had been proud to speak his mind, even when his opinion was different than Emily's. He had never backed down and agreed with her, just for the sake of it. He had spoken with confidence.

"So, you are just separated, not divorced?" She kept on asking, because at this point not even a miracle could save the disaster that this date really was.

"I guess so. She hasn't moved out yet…"

"So, let me get this straight. You are married, with three kids and it's not that your ex-wife is dropping over unannounced, but its rather that you want to be an ass and cheat on her, in the home that you clearly still both live in, instead of having the balls and the decency to sign those papers and get your own damn place." Emily said with a smirk.

Somehow, she had started enjoying this disastrous date, now that it allowed her to be her ironic self. Plus, it came with a free drink.

"Well…" He stuttered one more time and she swore if he did it again she would take her shoe off and stick it down his throat until he would suffocate. She could not stand his arrogant ass.

"You know what? I'm done! I'm going to have a wonderful time with my friend and we are going to get smashed with vodka and then I am going home, to my bed, on my own. And I'm fine with it. Hell, considering the alternative…" She ended off with the typical Prentiss eye roll and a scoff.

Next thing she knew, she was back at the other bar, dancing the night away with Clara and her two new best friends, laughing and having the best time imaginable.

Maybe this was what Emily needed – a night out, with the girls, giving each other innocent flirty compliments and making each other feel good. What woman would not like to hear that her hair looked good or that her dress made her look amazing? Emily did not need a man, to validate her. She needed her girlfriends to just let loose and to have some fun, with her, at some horrible bar, with horrible music and even more horribly mixed cocktails.

"What was up with the number reference earlier?" Clara asked at some point.

"My therapist told me to go on five dates. I wanted to be done with at least one tonight. I'm done. I'm having a great time! Maybe I should go on more dates!" Emily yelled on top of the music.

Both were beyond tipsy at that point, so it didn't really matter what was being said, as long as the music kept going and the vodka kept being poured, as bad as they both were anyway.

"The only reason you are enjoying tonight is because you are with us." Clara pointed out.

"Exactly!" Emily agreed while busting a move.

"You sure your friend is straight?" The brunette woman asked Clara, laughing.

"After so much vodka, is any of us straight? Come on!" Clara grinned and grabbed Emily, dragging her towards the bar for another round.

At some point, Clara went from okay to tipsy and then from tipsy straight to downright bonkers. Emily was enjoying that, as the last time they had been out on a girls night together Clara had been the designated driver and had not been able to drink more than half a cocktail. Sober Clara Seger was fun, which was why Emily had remained friends with her all these years. But drunk Clara Seger was a circus and Emily often found herself nearly peeing in her pants, crying from laughter after the dumb things drunk Clara would do or say.

For the next round of cocktails Emily singled Clara out, leaving her at the table with the blonde woman, while she and the brunette went to the bar. Just minutes later they went back to a very enjoyable sight.

"Damn, Seger, who's the naughty girl now!?" Emily laughed, watching a drunk off her ass Clara peck lips with the blonde woman.

"You are never to bring up certain past events and hold them against me again, is that clear?" Emily told Clara off with a smirk.

"I'll repeat that tomorrow, when you sober your ass up." Emily added, as Clara barely registered that someone was even talking to her.

This night reminded Emily of her twenties and all the fun she had with Clara. They'd go for drinks, go meet boys and they'd do inappropriate things that good girls like Angela Hunter would never even dare think about.

Clara liked to remind Emily of her naughty past, but it wasn't like Clara was an angel, either. They both knew things about each other and none of them regretted their past. They had been having a blast and it felt damn good that they were still able to let loose and to tease each other, to party like they were still in their twenties.


"Shit…" Emily mumbled, exiting the Uber that took her home that night after dropping Clara off at her own home first.

Her heel got stuck, or at least that was what she thought, and she swayed towards the bushes on one side of the alley in front of her apartment complex.

In reality, she was way too intoxicated to stand on her feet, so she naturally swayed to the side when she tried to stand up and walk in a straight line. It also did not help that the alley had at least five curves from where the Uber had left her off, to the entrance of the building.

"Nope…" She kept on talking to herself a few minutes later when she had finally managed to get to the entrance and she found herself trying to figure out which one of the fifty keys on that huge key-chain was the right one for that door. They all seemed the same, at this point.

"Nah…" She discarded the seventh key that she had tried and she was starting to get grumpy.

Why did she have to put her home keys, work keys, car keys and all sort of keys that she no longer uses, on the same chain…and then bring them to a bar?

"May I help you with that?" A male voice came from behind her.

She groaned in annoyance and kept on trying on her own. She did not need a man to help her with anything, not even when she was drunk beyond repair.

The guy stood behind her patiently, waiting for a couple more minutes before he spoke again.

"Madam, please let me get the door for you?" He nearly begged her.

The more she struggled with the door, the more he had to wait, in order to get in, as well.

She moved to the side and motioned for the door.

"It's broken!" She said lamely, as an excuse to why she was taking this long.

He put his key in and unlocked it in less than two seconds before he looked at her with a smile.

"After you…" He said, like a true gentleman.

Emily walked in, stumbling at least three more times until she reached the elevator.

She knew him – he was one of her neighbors and she had seen him many times before. She just knew nothing about him. He was about her age, visibly, which made the fact that he had just called her 'Madam' this much more disturbing.

"I can accompany you to your floor." He suggested, hoping he wasn't coming off as a creep.

"Nope. I can accompany you!" Emily argued, using the first words that popped in her head before she realized this was not what she meant.

"I mean, you can accompany me!" She tried once again, but it still was not what she meant.

"Wait, I can do this…" She took a deep breath and finally said it. "I can accompany me!"

He let out a small laugh. Even drunk off her ass, this woman was still the stubborn person he knew her to be. He had once seen her give the postal box downstairs a piece of her mind once, because while opening it she had cut her finger on a piece of metal that was sticking out. Then there was this time when he had seen her kick the front tire of her car when it was malfunctioning and she was clearly in a hurry to be somewhere. And then there were the many occasions when he had seen her walk to her car in the morning, yelling at someone on the phone. Not even yelling, but rather – telling people what to do. Emily was great at intimidating people and getting what she wanted, so she liked to do her phone business in the morning – calling to change her home internet plan or to cancel a magazine subscription she never even wanted in the first place.

"Rough night?" He smirked.

God knows what had driven this otherwise stubborn woman to get hammered and to act twice as stubborn, at half past three o'clock at night.

He, on the other hand, had the innocent excuse of coming back from a late shift at work.

"Terrible night! I went on a date." Emily rested her back against the elevator door, unknowingly preventing it from closing.

He could not muster enough courage to tell her to move. It was way too late at night, so even if they blocked the elevator for a few minutes, nobody would even care, nor need to use it anyway.

"Oh, sounds like a terrible night indeed." He kept on smiling because after a twelve-hour shift at work he was exhausted and he looked like crap and yet this woman managed to look presentable and somewhat energetic after all the drinking she had done.

"No, it was actually great. Well, not the date – that was a disaster. The making out with another woman was great!" She chuckled with her last words.

"Oh?" He exclaimed in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be offensive. I just figured you were on a date with a guy."

"I was. Until I wasn't…" In her mind, Emily replayed certain events from the night and kept on grinning like an idiot.

"Now I'm confused and I choose to believe you hated the date with the guy so much that you felt the need to go kiss a woman after that. And in this case, this is the best part of my day. Thank you for cheering me up." He said honestly.

"Oh, no. For once, weirdly, I wasn't the one doing all the naughty kissing. Nope. It was my friend Clara. She really needs to cut me some slack. I was done with my exploring in my 20's and apparently she's still in the mood. Can't blame her. Although, the brunette was hotter, but hey, whatever rocks her boat, right?" Emily slurred a few of her words and the guy tried really hard not to laugh.

She was extremely entertaining to watch, after all the hard work he had put in that day. It was fun to finally talk to this woman whom he had only ever seen around the building, but had never spoken to, directly.

"So, how about I make sure you open the door to your apartment quickly and then I leave you to get some sleep?" He suggested, but he spoke way too fast and way too normally. Emily only registered half of his words.

"And then maybe I can take you out on a date tomorrow night? For the record – I wouldn't have a problem if you decided to make out with a woman, during our date." He added smartly, because really – what man would not get a kick from that?

"Date?" This was all Emily heard and it was enough for her to start nodding.

This had been extremely easy – two dates in 24 hours! She was almost halfway done with her task by the end of the same day that Martha had suggested it. In her drunk state of mind, Emily considered herself to be all sorts of awesome, at this moment.

"Yes, tomorrow. There's a new Thai food place…" He said while searching for its card in his pockets. He had been there for lunch a few days ago and he had liked it.

Emily grabbed the card and smiled. The first failed date treated her with only just a drink, but this time she was getting a whole meal out of it. To a drunk Emily Prentiss, this was an awesome deal.

"Tomorrow at nine?" She suggested, not giving a damn about the fact that she was barely done with one night of dating, before she was already making plans for the next one.

"Yes. They have amazing wine, so I'd advise you to Uber there, enjoy however many drinks that you wish, and then I'll drive us back home. I mean, here…to the building where we both live in." He suggested and she was game for it.

Emily agreed to half of what she heard, a quarter of which she understood and none of which she would actually remember in the morning. Why the Hell not? She was a grown up and she had been ordered to go date men, so that was exactly what she planned on doing in the next few days.

He managed to somehow lure her further inside the elevator until the censors of the doors were uncovered and they were finally able to move towards Emily's floor. He helped Emily find the right key to her apartment door and then he said goodnight, leaving her to enter on her own. He had previously seen her pissed off and he did not want to risk giving the wrong impression of maybe wanting to take advantage of her, while drunk. In his mind, there was no doubt this woman would jump at him with a butcher knife, if she felt threatened.

What he didn't know was who she was and what she did for a living. If he knew Emily was with the FBI, he most probably would not have even dared ask her out. It was the effect her title had on people and she hated it, in terms of dating. It always made things awkward and she felt a lot less confident than she would have, if the guy did not expect her to be amazing, perfect, superhuman…just because she was a Federal Agent.

It was also the reason why she had opted for keeping the truth from Richard and as far as she was concerned – she had made the right choice. For the entire week with him she had felt and acted like herself, without having to meet anyone's high expectations. It had been refreshing. She appreciated the fact that Richard had accepted her with the little that he knew about her and with the lot that she had let him see. In a way, Richard had the advantage of not knowing Emily's real identity and that was precisely why he got the privilege to get to know the real Emily, instead of Lauren – she felt comfortable being herself, she felt good around him.

"Ugh!" She groaned, now standing under the running water in the shower, realizing that after one date being done and the second one being safely set for the next day, she had somehow still managed to find herself finishing the night off, naked, wet and thinking about Richard instead.

She also realized she had forgotten to switch the hot water on, so for a few seconds now she had been standing under the ice cold running water, being warmed up by nothing else but the memories of him – the person she was apparently unable to stop thinking about.

"Find another person you may like even more…" Emily quoted Martha's words, with a very sarcastic intonation, followed by her Prentiss world-wide famous eye roll.

"Another person, my ass!" She added snappily, pretending like the shower cabin door was Martha and that she was giving her a piece of her mind.

"I don't want another person!" She kept on mumbling, using hand soap on her hair, because really, in her current state anything semi-liquid that made bubbles could be called a shampoo and thus, used as such.

"What's wrong with that person?" She was now sprawling hair reviving oil all over her neck and arms, convinced this was her shower gel.

"Who the Hell said I can't have what I want? Huh? Who? I want to know and when I find them, I will obliterate them! I will put an end to their miserable life and I will videotape it so I can watch it later, with a glass of vodka. Oh, vodka…yum, vodka sounds really nice right now…" She licked her lips, only to realize how oily her entire body was, after she had exchanged her shower gel with the hair oil. This would take a lot of scrubbing to be taken care of.

Spitting on the floor and washing her mouth thoroughly after she felt bubbles coming out of it, she decided she no longer needed to brush her fingers through her hair and to wash off the residue of what she believed to be a shampoo. She might regret that decision on the very next day when her hair would be all knotty.

"I kind of really want Richard right now…" She pouted, grabbing the towel and managing to cover none of the body parts that she was aiming for. She practically walked out of the bathroom butt-naked, with the towel covering her stomach and half of her upper body.

"Especially right now…" Her words came out naturally, as soon as she entered her room and saw her bed.

The inevitable wave of tiredness and sleep deprivation hit her and before she knew it, she was spraying her bed sheets with Richard's perfume.

"There…" She smirked, inhaling her now favorite scent. "All better now."

It smelled good, like a mixture of hope, memories and something else…a certain something else was in the air.

"Mmh." With a silent moan of deeply rooted appreciation for the scent of Richard, next to her, she let her head rest on the pillow and just seconds later she was sleeping soundly.


REVIEW REPLIES:

"zhangxinna" Hiiiii :) Aww, you're so nice! Thanks! Emily is definitely not done trying (for the internship)...trust me! If Hell freezes over, she'll light it up on fire again, so she could then light her Superiors' asses on fire, until Angela gets what she deserves, lol! JJ is being quiet right now, she really made zero effort in making Angela feel welcome. But...is this the real reason why Angie ignores her? (It obviously gets explained later on, but other things need to be revealed first, in order for it to make sense).

French Baguette? No, girl, don't you say that...it makes my mind go places and just...no. Okay? :P LOL! You know "Good things come to those who wait?" Well, you've waited...so...expect good things? :P. Next chapter is with Emily's second date...and then chapter 110 will be uploaded October 12 (because I'm a dork and it's Emily Prentiss' birthday and you can guess how good that chapter will be :P and what might come. No pun intended :P!

Emily is still a disaster in the kitchen, but there are a few dishes she knows how to prepare. She just needs the right reason (person!) to cook (for!).

Also, I might need to change the rating to M, as Emily and Angela have the foulest mouths and the baddest attitude and they say the most inappropriate stuff all the time, lol!

PS: Hope you enjoyed my take on your little idea about Emily and a hair bow :)!

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"rmpcmfan" WOW, you nailed all the clues! It seems like a cute lil' chapter (107), but trust me there was a LOT underneath the surface.

* The little girl in the torn photo (and the paper that both her and Emily are holding so proudly) WILL be explained later on. It's kind of a MAJOR thing for the story.

* Can't believe you even caught the significance of the necklace pendant!

* LOL You'll one day know how and why Angie was able to crack the gun code so quickly.

* I'm a sucker for the emotional speeches. They drain the crap out of Emily, but Angie seems to be holding up well...or, is she?

* Woah, Emily still sucks in the kitchen! It's just those few dishes that she once learned to cook. This, also, gets explained later on.

* Rossi is a hawk and he knows stuff. Remember that: Rossi knows stuff! Emily refuses to let herself see it. Queen of Denial, after all :)!

* Yup, the French bow clip was in one of my reviews ages ago and I wanted to write a cute meaningful scene. Also, how funny would Emily look with a bow? LOL! It's cute for Angela who is super young-looking, but Emily would look so weird haha, I kind of want her to forget it in her hair that night and to go to work with it, the next morning. Garcia would really like it :)!

* Emily is definitely helping Angela out majorly, with her Monkey problem. She's taking Angela's side, wanting her to be okay, to heal. What Monkey did to Angela is eating Emily up inside and she knows it is a super delicate situation (one which Angie REFUSES to ever talk about openly), so she is doing her best to talk in general, without directly addressing whatever issue there is.

* Paris definitely ties up a lot of things, for multiple characters. It also helps that I LOVE PARIS, so it's super fun to write that :)!

* I like this dotted list system, lol :)!

* Thanks, it's always nice to hear such nice feedback. Posting one's creations online is a bit scary...every creator likes their work, but they never know if other people would. And of course every creation has its following and it won't be everyone's cup of tea, hehe. VERY SOON one of the big storylines will start moving and I'm excited to share it with everyone. People have been waiting for this and I've given them my word that it would be worth the wait :P

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"sweetkid45" Hey, thank you! As for Angie...like I always say - she isn't a genius and she isn't a spoiled little brat who gets things for free...so maybe she won't get the internship she wants. Maybe she will? :) We'll see. But that doesn't mean that people would give up on fighting for her. Expect some drama to take place, LOL!