CHAPTER 135

GIVE IT TO ME ROUGH, BABY!

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Richard asked breathlessly.

They had been lying in bed, with his hand on her stomach, for quite a while after they were done doing sweet little grown-up things to each other. He could still feel his own heartbeat, quick and uneven.

Their first time, in the hotel, had been amazing, but their second time, at his apartment now, had been the start of the rest of their story. Richard was sure of it. Emily had to yet come to that conclusion herself.

"Yeah, I think we both need another shower after all the…sweating." She said cheekily, letting her head rest on his chest.

With his free hand, he caressed her face. She had no idea how much he wanted her, not just physically.

Richard thought that keeping the truth about who he was was hard, but at that moment he realized it was much harder for him to keep his feelings a secret, too. Emily was not ready to hear either one of those truths. Not just yet. He'd keep them to himself and he'd keep on sending silent prayers of gratitude, for having the opportunity to have her, all to himself.

"You read my mind." He confirmed.

He had taken a shower before their nap, but he had worked out, in a way, a little too much afterwards. He needed to freshen up, for their afternoon plans.

"It's like we have a secret language that only you and I understand." She said silently.

"Exactly!" Enthusiasm oozed from his voice.

"You do know I was joking when I said it, right?" Her head tilted sideways when she spoke, catching a glimpse of his face.

"Although, with all of our spy history, we definitely need to have our own language." She added and she could swear she heard his heart skip a beat. She was, after all, pressing her cheek against the left side of his chest at that moment.

"Emily, I-…" He opened his mouth, but didn't know how to proceed.

"What, is that not true?" She asked when he failed to speak any further.

"I can explain…"

"Explain what?" This time, she looked up at him with confusion.

"Emily…"

"Are you okay?" She sat up on the bed, leaning over him just a little bit.

Instinctively, she had grabbed the sheets and covered herself up a bit, as if she was ashamed to be so naked in front of him. Although, it wasn't like it would be the first time he saw her stripped out of her clothes.

"Emily, I…"

"I sure hope you're not such a terrible communicator tomorrow!" She chucked.

It finally hit him – she meant all of it, in connection to the live roleplay spy game the next day. Of course! It made sense now.

"So, can we come up with our secret language?" She asked enthusiastically.

"Yes, but do you think we can, maybe, do this over…" He was about to say lunch, but a quick look at his phone screen confirmed that what had seemed like a hot, a very hot minute with her earlier, had gone on for a lot longer than they thought.

"…Over dinner?" He finally suggested.

"D'accord. I'm starving." She nodded and leaned further in, for a kiss.

"No, don't you dare talk to me in French, with that sexy pout on your lips and no clothes on your body…ah, tu es complètement nu…completely naked... No, no, no. Don't do this to me right now. I'm starving. If you keep looking at me like this, I won't get any food until tomorrow." He loved the way she pronounced French words, now that she wasn't hiding the fact that she was fluent.

"Why is that?" She knew why, she just wanted to hear him say it.

"Because my hands will be all over you for hours…" He tackled her lightly, stealing himself a few more kisses. "Again." He then added proudly.

They both knew that the fun they had just experienced, had not been dessert. It had merely been the entrée to a very sophisticated, long 'dinner' that they'll be having later on that night. And by 'dinner', none of them meant actual food/the actual thing.

"Care to join?" Richard held his hand out to her when he was finally able to command himself to get out of bed.

"In the shower? Oh, no way. One thing you should know about me – I never do shower sex. Ever!" Emily kept shaking her head.

This was one of the few things that were taboo in her book.

"Don't find it exciting?" He asked curiously.

"No, actually, I do. I'm just not a fan of all the injuries it inevitably leads to." Emily replied, trying so hard to contain the nerdy side of herself. She just hoped he wouldn't poke at it and take this conversation any further.

"I have a non-slip shower mat." He smirked. "The worst thing that could happen in there would be for you to like it and want it again."

And there it was – he had pushed it further. He had unleashed the Prentiss nerd-dragon.

"Actually, it's not the slippery floor that causes the biggest problem. It's the water that causes a severe amount of friction and, trust me, it would be just as unpleasant for you, as it would be for me." She started off calmly.

"The least that could happen is a draw between neck injuries, wrist fractures, ankle sprains and, of course, back problems." She continued replying to what he had just told her. "Some of the worst-case scenarios might include the moment when the back spasms and locks in a particular position, or a full-blown disc prolapses and sciatic pain. How about that, huh?"

He looked at her with his lips parted. She was such a freaking nerd. Luckily for her, he found that attractive. This had usually been around the time when any men Emily had ever been with, would bounce out the door. She'd have her fun with a guy and then she'd inevitably say something so dorky and weird, and she'd then lose all confidence.

But not with him.

"Okay, note to self: never invite Emily in for a shower. Got it." He put his hand up against his forehead and gave her a mock military-style salute that made her chuckle. Apparently, he was able to keep up quite well with her dorky nature.

When he walked in for his second shower of the day, she started to overanalyze that salute. He had done it very fast and very confidently. And Emily knew what a good military salute looked like – this man looked like he had long years of training on how to properly execute that.

She shook her head, remembering a note she had once made to her own self: do not profile the man you are sleeping with!

Right after him, she took a quick shower as well and she changed into a little black dress that she was so grateful JJ had packed for her. Earlier that day she had been able to find a fake pearl necklace in one of the small boutiques and she also had a tacky headband with a small veil, making her look mysterious and all spy-like. She stuffed the headband in her purse, as she would only need it for the bar, after their early dinner, and she hurried to put some make-up on her face.

"Oh, smoky eye? Mysterious? I like it."

"And I like a man who knows this is called a 'smoky eye'." Emily replied, watching him button up his shirt.

"What else could someone possibly call it?"

"Raccoon make-up." Emily suggested. "The panda effect. Or my personal favorite: Yo, who gave you that black eye?"

"Wow, you've been with quite a few douchebags, I see." He laughed.

"Oh, you have no idea!" The ease with which she admitted it, worried him a little bit.

But then again – they both had a past. They've both done things, with other people. It was now up to them to scratch that part of their lives and to build a new story, together. The past had to stay in the past, especially on Emily's side. Or, was there something big that she did not know about Richard's past yet?


"This is awesome! Best spent money, ever!" Clara was enjoying the Hell out of her afternoon.

She had sat back and watched Angie fail miserably, at so many different things.

After their ice-cream break, Angie had suggested going to the Playground Arena at the Mall. They had games for all ages and she had always seen it in the American movies that young people hung out there for fun. She wanted to experience that.

However, she was having a little less fun than she thought she might be.

"No! Come on! No! Whyyyyyyyyy?" She whined in front of the Hoops Mania Coin Pusher.

"Because if it was this easy, there wouldn't be this many coins inside, for you to drool over!" Clara laughed wholeheartedly and extracted Angie from that situation before she'd get even more upset.

"Here, let's have a basketball tournament?" Clara suggested. She loved shooting hoops and there was a multi-player option for that game.

They stood on two adjacent machines, both had 90 seconds to shoot as many hoops as they possibly could.

Clara inserted the coins and got in the zone. Angie was fooling around, shaking her butt to some song that was playing on the radio. This was not the right way to win a game.

"Ready. Set. Go!" Clara said, counting the seconds left before the start of their game.

Angie looked like she was determined to be good, but somehow she kept on fooling around and getting distracted.

Clara, on the other hand, was merciless. She had grown up shooting hoops with the boys from her neighborhood. She was known to give guys a run for their money. Matt Simmons, who had been a full-time member of the IRT before he had switched to the BAU, had Clara on speed dial, for all those times he needed an extra player on his team. He usually played with Luke Alvez and a few other guys, but he loved bringing a girl in, to spice things up. Plus, Clara was an absolute beast at that game and it just felt so good to crush the competition, with a woman on their team. And Clara liked the praise she always got after a game.

"Oh…" Angie frowned when the timer froze and the game ended.

She had been somewhat confident that she had gotten some decently good shots, but that was until she saw Clara's screen.

"How do you have seventeen hoops more than me!?" Angie folded her hands and looked back and forth between their final scores.

"Easy - I wasn't eyeing the doll that he is." Clara smirked, pointing at a guy, about Angie's age, leaning against a pool table.

Angie blushed and looked away, but Clara nudged her back into reality.

"Okay, fine. He's cute." She finally admitted.

"Cute? Wanna try that again? You were basically drooling!" Clara kept on laughing. It was nice to see Angie act like a normal girl, her age.

"Alright. He might actually be super fine…" Angie chuckled. "I mean, Gosh, look at that ass!" She added when she saw him lean against the table and strategize about his next move.

"I dare you to go talk to him." Clara said.

"Oh, honey, you don't have to dare me." With those words, Angie was out of sight.

Clara should have known better – Angie was spontaneous enough to do what she was about to do.

She walked up to the table where he was playing with one other friend, while a third guy was waiting for them to finish, so he could play as well, since playing pool with an uneven number of players was not possible.

"Hey, what's up boys?" Angie said, super casually, but her eyes laid on one of them, specifically.

"I'm here with a chaperone. Such a snooze!" She pointed at Clara who was trying her best to look like she belonged to that place, but she just wasn't blending in with the young crowd.

Clara gasped, overhearing those words. She found herself a place to sit, where the guys wouldn't see her, but she would still be close enough to overhear.

"So, wanna play some ball?" She winked at the guy she liked and his two friends came up with whatever lame excuse to leave and give them some privacy.

"Courageous, I respect that." The guy said while setting up for a new game.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe the balls I have." She smiled at him. "Plains, as it seems." She added after breaking the first shot.

"Well, someone has learned her balls lesson." He was impressed she even knew there was a set of two different ball types, within the game. Most of his female friends only played pool, so they could lean over the table and have guys tell them how cool they looked from behind.

"I love lessons!" She said nerdily. "Which is why I know we're dealing with standard, not aramith balls here."

He looked at her with confusion.

"Standard balls tend to be mass produced in China, with a hardened plastic outer shell, and as a result that makes them fairly cheap to buy and easy to replace. This makes the standard balls ideal for commercial environments due to their cheaper nature, but this does bring with it some compromises in quality. Clearly, a good play response cannot be expected with those. The plastic also generates more friction on a table's cloth, leading to increased wear to the cloth over time." Angie continued talking.

Clara was now giving herself a well-deserved facepalm.

"Hello? Is this Hollywood? Yes. Someone please send a crew right this second! We are shooting a live new movie, called 'How to lose a guy in ten seconds'. Please, hurry!" Clara spoke to herself in that same overly dramatic manner that Angie always spoke in.

She could not believe how Angie was able to ruin it, so quickly.

"Now, the Aramith balls are more of a professional quality stuff. They are specially made in Belgium, and unlike the cheaper standard balls, Aramith balls tend to be made from a tougher phenolic resin. The entire ball is composed of this, meaning that if you were to slice an Aramith spots and stripes ball down the center, you would find the color continues all the way through the middle and that's just really cool, although I've never personally done that experiment myself. The resin generally gives the balls a better response when playing, reduces the friction between the ball and the playing surface and also gives the ball an impeccable shine and vivid color."

Angie nudged the guy when she was done with her monologue. It was his turn to play.

"Are you some sort of a professional pool player?" He asked.

"Not at all. I actually suck at pool, which is why I've read up on a few facts, you know, in case I'd have to impress a cute guy one day." A big smile appeared on her face.

"Is that so?" He looked her up and down. She had an amazing body and he was definitely interested in finding out more about her.

"Honestly, I prefer Snooker, to traditional Pool." She put her hands up in the air, in mock surrender, making him laugh.

She sure was spontaneous.

With her second shot, he realized she wasn't joking about being bad at the game. She had no tactics, no aim. She just shot at the mass of balls she saw nearest to the cue ball, ignoring a more further out ball that would have been a clean score for anyone with at least a bit of experience in the game.

"Oh, I feel like someone needs some tutoring." He suggested, clearly wanting to see her again in the future.

"Don't think I'll become a professional pool player. I don't even enjoy this game. But hey, if it means getting your hands all over me while I bend over, then be it." She bit her bottom lip and looked down, a bit shyly. She knew how much guys loved that game of shyness and innocence, none of which really fit with who she truly was.

"Plus, I have to go in exactly six minutes from now. So, let's make the most of our time, shall we?" She suggested.

Watching him grab the pool stick again, made her sigh.

"That's not what I meant…" The deep, suggestive voice Angie used with that statement, made Clara's skin crawl.

It was so weird for her to hear the girl come on to a guy, so directly, so…eww. Clara was in shock and she kept hiding from Angie's sight.

"Alright then, let's get to know each other. What's your name?" He asked.

"Does it matter?" She raised her eyebrow at him.

"Fair enough, it wouldn't matter in six minutes anyway. So uh, what's your job?" He asked again.

"I'm a masseuse at a private massage parlor downtown. It's a Members Only kind of a place, if you know what I'm saying..."

Clara kept on cringing. This was way too much for her to handle. She saw Angie as this young, innocent girl. But, was she that? Or had she become someone else?

"Why am I getting the vibe that-…" The guy started to pour out his suspicion, but suddenly he was silenced.

Clara did not need to look, in order to know what was going on.

Angie had pushed up on him, until he was with his back against the nearby wall, and she was the one calling the shots.

She went in for a kiss, but she instantly realized she wasn't too much into it.

"Okay, bye." She then stated calmly and started walking away.

"Wait! Six minutes are not done yet!" He called out after her.

"Yup, but I am." She smirked, looking around and finding a very confused Clara, sitting nearby.

"What the Hell are you doing, young lady?" Clara asked, nearly dragging Angie out of the Playground.

"Jesus, it's freaky how you sounded exactly like Prentiss!" Angie laughed out loud.

Emily liked to use those same words on Angie, sometimes. And Clara had them down to the intonation, even.

"I did a carom shot on him." Angie smirked.

"A what shot? Is this going to throw you into another one of your nerdy, annoying outbursts?" Clara was sure the answer to that would be a Yes.

"In pool, Caroms shots are deadly if used at the right time, in the right situation. A carom is any shot where the object ball or cue ball ricochets into another ball to move or pocket that ball." Angie stated nerdily.

"So, you used your charms…to ricochet into that poor guy and to…to get what outcome, exactly?" Clara tried to translate Angie's explanation into something that made sense, but nothing was coming up in her mind.

"I just wanted to see if I'm that girl who does that kind of stuff." Angie shrugged. "Guess I'm not. It was weird. Yeah, he was cute, but that's not how I roll."

Angie started walking a little faster after she spoke. It almost seemed like she was trying to get some distance between herself and Clara, as if she was now ashamed of something and needed space.

"Hey. Hey?" Clara called out after her. "I was twenty-three once. I did the same stupid stuff, trying to figure things out, myself. It's a good thing you're not that girl, who does that stuff. Angela, you and I both know you're not just any girl. You're smart and well-behaved, although I'd never admit to saying that out loud. And you have a good head on your shoulders. You don't have to feel pressured to be with someone, just because other girls your age are doing so. Okay?"

"I know, but Bryan and the other guys at the Academy always talk about girls and stuff and I just feel left out. They see me as the nerd who likes serial killers. And I'm fine with that, but I just…I want to feel normal, for once, and I thought since I'm not in the Academy right now, it would be the perfect time to experiment."

"Well, you're still the one with good head on your shoulders. When I experimented at twenty-three, I'd wake up on the floor, surrounded by bottles of vodka and other half-naked people." Clara laughed. She was exaggerating a lot, but she needed to point something out to Angie and it worked.

"What if I'm just unable to like someone? And no, I don't mean I don't like guys. I just feel like I'm never really attracted to anyone."

"Can I reply to you honestly or do you want me to sugarcoat it until it makes zero sense and it helps you in no shape or form?" Clara asked.

"Give it to me rough, baby!"

"Eww, Angela, you sound like a freak when you say things like that. And to me, out of all people!? God, this is so inappropriate." Clara forced Angie to stop walking.

They had almost circled the entire upper floor of the Mall, while discussing that topic.

"Look at me?" Clara asked and Angie instantly obliged. "You, my dear, have major commitment issues. And no, this is not a dig. It's the truth. You've been through major traumatic experiences and you are incapable of letting yourself connect to another human being. It's not just boys, do you understand me? This is about so much more than your love life. And I won't say anything more about it. You know perfectly well that there is one person on Earth, who understands you unconditionally, and who would be there for you, through all of the pain that would come with your acceptance of the truth. And I know you're smart enough to go to her, when the time is right."

Angie nodded and just stared in Clara's eyes for a long moment.

Clara was an anchor – she was stable, a little cuckoo, but otherwise very cool. She was smart and very honest, which Angie respected a lot. Lately, Clara had been doing her absolute best to help Angie out, but the most she could do was to keep talking to her and to open her eyes about something, to ultimately lead her to the hands of that one person she had mentioned, the one who understood Angie and who would help her out full-heartedly, with no judgment entailed.

"Since we're already at the mall, can we, maybe, go look around?" In her true fashion, Angie changed the subject swiftly.

"You bet we can go check every single shop until I find a nice dress for…uh…" Clara started off way too excited, but cut herself off mid-way, realizing she was on her way to spilling the tea.

"Ohhh, someone has a hot date!?" Angie nudged the woman next to her.

"Shut up. No."

"You're blushiiiiiiiiing!"

"Stop it!"

"Awh, you're so cute when you're excited."

"You are the Devil!"

"Well, all things considered…" With those words, Angie won that argument, while Clara continued to shake her head, denying the obvious fact that her cheeks were a little rosy.

Having a specific shop in mind, Clara started walking in that direction, with Angie dragging her feet right behind her, smirking like the true Devil that everyone knew she was.

"Oh, girl…" Angie exclaimed when she saw where Clara wanted to go first.

"No, girl!" She added with a cringe, taking five steps back from the horrendous window of the shop.

"What...why?" Clara nearly whined. "Emily and I love this shop."

"Girl, that just about explains the drought in the desert for so many years, if you know what I'm saying…" Without any reservations, Angela pointed a little lower than Clara's stomach, making the woman gasp.

"Jesus, how dare you!?"

"Girl, na-ah! Ya don't get to scold me, standing in front of an old woman's Heaven, no disrespect to the elderly, by the way. It's just…" Angie dared to glance over to the shop's window again.

There was a perfectly coordinated checkered two-piece on a mannequin, proudly standing next to another one that wore a loose dress, down to the knees, paired with a white t-shirt underneath, as the neckline was a bit revealing…for an elderly person.

"No, just no!" Angie reached out for Clara's hand and she then started dragging her to a much nicer shop that she had spotted on their way there.

"But, Ang…"

"Shhh!" She silenced her, like a child. "You can thank me later, boo."

Clara chuckled, thinking how much she appreciated the dynamics between her and that girl. Angela was a straight-shooter and she'd never lie to Clara if something looked bad on her. In a way, it was nice to receive some fashion advice from someone younger, even though Clara would never be able to pull off whatever item it might be that Angie would choose for her next.

"This!" Angie pranced around with a dress in her hands.

"Not for you…" Clara muttered. It was not a clothing piece she'd ever imagine Angela would want to wear at twenty-three.

"Not for me, babe." Angie smirked, carefully placing the dress in front of Clara's body and tilting sideways to catch a glimpse of it in the nearby full-length mirror.

"Pour toi!" Angie let her know, in French, that the dress was for her – for Clara.

"Uhmm…"

"Nah, honey-bee. Don't knock it out before you try it!" Angie said proudly, suddenly feeling this urge to sound more American.

However, Clara did not have the heart to correct Angie's words. She had just sounded so cute, there was no way Clara would tell her she got the saying a little wrong.

Clara tried hard to make herself roll her eyes in a somewhat believable fashion before she walked in the changing room with the dress in hand. Truth was, she was quite fond of it and she knew it would complement her body perfectly.

"Hot daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!" Angela's vocal appreciation of what she saw two minutes later, resonated through the changing room area.

Clara had walked out, with the dress on, smiling like an idiot.

"Damn, damn, damn! Turn around, lemme see that tush!" Angie made a swirly gesture with one finger, urging Clara to show off every angle of herself.

"You know, for a tomboy…you actually have quite the eye for clothes, especially dresses." Clara murmured, still trying to hold back the excitement she felt while wearing this piece.

"I ain't no tomboy! Come on, you know I love dresses." Angie countered.

"I do, but you never wear them."

"Well, I'll make sure I wear one for my next SWAT training. Would that make you happy, you little Miss Judgy Pants?"

Clara sighed. Angela did have a point – with what she was currently busy with 90 percent of the time, she clearly had no use of dresses, heels and purses.

"You're so hard to argue with."

"I'm impossible to argue with!" Angie corrected her with a smirk.

"Fine then. If I'm getting this dress, you're getting a dress, too. Let's go explore." Clara suggested and walked back in the changing room to put her own clothes on.

As soon as she walked out again, she saw Angela in the hair accessories section, at the opposite side of the shop from where all the dresses were hanging.

"Let's choose your dress first and then match some hair thingy to it, okay?" Clara said cheerfully.

Angie did not react at all. She just kept on eyeing every piece with curiosity.

"You don't need to worry about the money. I want to treat you to a new dress. It's fine." Clara then pointed out, just in case this troubling thought was holding Angie back.

"I just want a new hair tie." Angie held a pack of three super basic hair ties up, as she had rushed through the nice scrunchies section, in order to get to the cheaper stuff.

"Sweetie, money is not an issue for me. I'd be glad to buy you something. Please?"

Angie's eyes diverted towards the wall and she kept her gaze on one little scratch on it for a few seconds.

Clara knew her well enough to know that this was her way of calming down when something was bothering her.

"Do you remember when we promised to always be real with each other?" Clara asked and Angie nodded lightly.

"So, come on, be real with me. What's the matter?" Clara added.

"I don't want you to buy me a dress." Angie whispered.

"But you love dresses."

"I don't think I stressed the subject of my statement well enough. I don't want you to buy me a dress." Angie said smartly.

"Shit, I suck at profiling!" Clara shook her head, instantly realizing what this was all about, when Angie emphasized on the word 'you' this time.

Buying dresses was Angie's thing with Emily. It was their own little bonding moment and Clara had, unintentionally, tried to rob her of this.

"I'm sorry." Clara's hand rubbed Angie's back as she spoke. "Can I treat you to anything else then – a jacket, a bag, a hat, maybe a pair of new shoes?"

"Uhmm…" Angie thought for a moment.

The whole shopping experience was sacred for her. She wanted Emily to buy her those things and nobody else, no matter how much she loved Clara. It was not the same type of love.

"You can buy me dinner. I fancy me a good burger." Angie finally came up with a compromise.

"Done!" Clara let a smile creep on her face. "And Jesus, 'fancy'…really? This ain't the Buckingham Palace. Chill a bit with the courtesy." She added through giggles.

Clara loved how Angela spoke – it was a mixture of complete gibberish, borderline inappropriately hinted sexual content and then she'd throw in a few fancy words, too.

"Can't help that I've been raised like a proper lady with enviously good manners, amazing table etiquette and a wide vocabulary of posh and fancy big words to wow people with." Angie chuckled.

"Bitch, you ain't foolin' nobody, okay!? Your foul mouth almost compares to Prentiss' one. Please…and thank you!"

With that overly-dramatic statement, Clara started walking towards the cashiers to pay for her own dress, leaving Angie behind, falling more and more in love with everything that Clara was and the way she spoke in such a relatable way, to someone Angie's age.

"Yo, I still need the ties…" Angie called out, but Clara just kept on walking.

"Get them good scrunchies, you naggy lil' thing!" Clara replied, not even turning around to look at Angie.

She knew how Angie had a way of getting what she wanted and she could sense how obvious she was when she'd skipped the scrunchies section in front of her, aiming for the cheap ones instead. Therefore, Angie really wanted a nice new scrunchie and Clara was not going to play like she was oblivious to that fact.

"Awh-kay!" Angie's sweet voice made her sound like she was five and eager to grab one of each from the scrunchies stand.

"If you insist so much…ugh!" Angie faked annoyance, already holding two scrunchies in one hand and the basic ties in the other.

Nearing the cashier's desk, Angie poured it all on top of Clara's dress.

"What!? I told you I need them ties!" She said with diva-like attitude when Clara eyed all the hair accessories with curiosity.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't mind buying you all the ties in the world. But just a question – what on Earth do you do with those? Do you eat them!? Didn't you get, like, a pack of twenty, just two weeks ago?" Clara asked.

"First of – ties go missing, okay!? I put them in my pockets and they fall out, or I snap them during training. Some of the girls have already learned that I'm the hair accessory queen, so they always come to me to ask for a tie when we're out on the field and those bitches never return them, okay!?"

"And secondly?" Clara could not help her sarcasm.

"Secondly, I see Emily and you have been discussing more about me than I anticipated. Really, though? She even told you the number of freaking hair ties that I got last time we went shopping? And it was three weeks ago, for the record."

Clara felt like she was in need of a good facepalm after hearing that. The cashier was chuckling, throwing in a comment about Angie's sassiness, after which Angie made a bow of courtesy, loving that little compliment.

Once they walked out of the store, Clara made it a point to walk towards the little fountain in the middle of the mall, so they can sit and talk.

"Want a nice drink first?" Clara suggested, taking five steps sideways, reaching the little fruit juice stand.

"Yup." Ange joined her, asking the vendor a question without paying any attention to the menu. "Got anything with vodka?"

"Young girl!" Clara gasped, scolding her like a child.

"What!? I was promised a nice drink, wasn't I!?" Angie's smirk grew wide. Mission 'embarrass Clara yet one more time' had been a success in under five seconds.

"I said an 'ice' drink." Clara tried to twist it.

"No, you said 'nice'."

"No, no! I said 'ice'. See the photo on top? Ice cubes. So, ice!"

"You were looking down at your new dress in the bag and smiling like a wild person when you offered me a drink, so there is no way you could have seen the ice cube posters, all the way on the top. Also, you only saw the stand with your peripheral vision and your head never tilted upwards, nor did it even sit up straight. It was kind of always tilted down, so it is physically impossible for you to have seen-…"

Clara's hand then pressed against Angie's mouth, cutting her off and preventing her from continuing her little analysis of the correlation between Clara's body position and her inner thoughts.

"I'll have the grape juice then." Angie said in a muffle before she bit Clara's palm and freed her mouth, enough to say the rest of what was on her mind. "Do you, by any chance, offer it fermented!?"

The guy at the stand laughed out loud. In his head, Angela was hell-bound on getting her hands on anything alcoholic. However, Clara knew her better and she'd be bringing this up later.

"Damn it, I'm the one in need of some vodka when this one is around." Clara said sarcastically, ordering the passion fruit juice for herself.

Soon enough, they were sitting by the fountain, with a fruit juice in hand. Angie seemed calm and collected on the outside, which made it clear to Clara that the inside was a complete mess.

"Talk to me, darling."

"Only Emily ever calls me darling!" Angie could not help but say that, instantly.

Clara was smart – she knew better than to use that word on Angela, so now that she needed to get her blood boiling, she mentioned it intentionally and it proved to be working well.

"And it's only ever fun to go shopping with Emily, right?" Clara said very gently, careful not to set Angela off.

"Well…that's not entirely correct." Angie turned to face Clara, which was something Clara did not expect her to do.

Facing someone usually meant that the person was ready to talk freely and openly, which was never the case with Angela.

"I mean, it's best to go with Emily, yes." She continued and Clara just listened. "But I really like hanging out with you, too. I just don't want you to buy me the things that only Emily ever does. Please don't get offended by this. I love you, but you're not Emily to me."

"It's okay, buttercup. I love you, too, which is why I understand exactly what you're saying right now. I'm sorry I overstepped my boundaries earlier, with the dress, but I got excited to get you something and I completely forgot…"

Angie looked at her with a wide smile. Clara was exactly what she needed in life, at this very moment.

"I love our little nicknames. And I love having you by my side, especially through the Academy. Honestly, you're probably the major part of the reason why I'm still sane…I mean, as sane as I might be, you know."

"Oh, the word 'sane' must never be used in a sentence in which your name appears. And that applies to all of your names." Clara teased and Angie blushed.

"Do you promise to always be in my life, Clarsie?"

The way Angie suddenly just came out with her plea, with that angelic voice that she only ever used in special occasions, broke Clara's heart. She knew exactly what Angie's trust issues stemmed from and she hated seeing the obvious signs of trauma, all those years after Angela had gone through her experience with abandonment, as she liked to call it.

"Yes." Clara's hand brushed against Angie's cheek in the most loving and caring manner. "I'll always be in your life and I'll always love you and take care of you, no matter what. You can push me away and you can lie to my face, but I will never love you any less. As screwed up as you are, you are the most perfect human being in my eyes and I am lucky to have you in my life."

"I'm not perfect!" Angie retaliated right away.

"Not in the conventional sense of the word – no." Clara took a deep breath, choosing the best words to express how she felt about Angela. "But you have manners and you have empathy. You're so incredibly smart and driven. You're independent. You're strong. You make the people around you feel good, more so when you feel like crap, yourself. You project happiness outwards, when inside you're torn into millions of pieces and you're sad and you feel alone and scared. Just like with the guy from the juice stand – I know for a fact that you don't even like alcohol this much. And I know you were feeling upset that I unintentionally tried to take Emily's place in your life. I know what she means to you. I know how torn you are right now. And still, you chose to keep it inside, while making other people laugh. That is amazing! I cannot stress enough how much I admire your ability to project the opposite of what you're feeling, onto people you don't even know. I know I'm much older than you, but honestly…I've always been jealous of some of your personality traits."

Angie had no reaction. None at all. She just stared blankly at Clara, with her Prentiss-like poker face on, as if Clara had not been speaking at all.

"And this…" Clara could not help but point this out, while literally pointing at Angie's face. "This façade you always put on, whenever you feel emotional…this is not healthy for you. Hell, scream at me if you're upset, cry if you want to. But seeing you so used to having to withhold any and every emotion you have is, honestly, breaking my heart. And I know it's hurting you, too."

Angie's facial expression did not change. For a long moment Clara just stared at her eyes, trying to figure out whether they'd blink at some point. They did not.

"Sweetie-pie, it's okay to show emotion when you're receiving a compliment. And I sure as Hell hope you perceived my previous words as such…" Clara trailed off, suddenly doubting if her honesty had come out genuine or maybe forced.

Angie just gulped. At least it was some sort of a reaction.

"Jesus, would you, please blink!?" Clara begged.

Angela's reaction was not normal and this was one of the times when Clara was getting the chills from this girl.

"Only because I have to!" Angie replied, blinking a few times fast.

"You don't have to. I'm not forcing you to." Clara cleared it up.

"Oh, I know. I meant that the mere process of blinking is crucial for one's health. It nourishes and moistures our eyes. Every time we blink, a very thin layer of tears, along with multiple oil-producing sebaceous glands, amalgamate and spread across the eye surface, preventing the eyes from drying out, but it also brushes away any small particles of dust or dirt that might irritate our eyes or even impair or vision." Angela shot out quickly.

"Okay, Nerd." A small laugh escaped Clara's lips. "I'm sure you also know what happens when one does not blink enough-…"

She had meant it to be a rhetorical thing, but Angela jumped at a chance to nerd out some more.

"In the Guinness Book of Records, the longest time one has gone without blinking is one hour, five minutes and eleven seconds. I think I, personally, just hit a new record today. For myself, I mean."

"Well, how about you don't try to set a new record now, huh? I don't want you to get sick…or whatever it is that happens when someone does not blink. And God, what kind of a topic is this!?" Clara kept on chuckling. With Angela there was never a dull and uninformative moment.

"Lagophthalmos." Angie stated calmly.

"Well, I know languages, but I have no clue what this is." Clara's shoulders rose.

At this point, it was inevitable that Angie would give her another lesson, so she didn't even try to stop her.

"Lagophthalmos is a condition that prevents your eyes from closing completely. If the problem only happens when you sleep, it's called nocturnal lagophthalmos." Angie started off, bringing the juice to her lips and taking a sip before she'd pour the rest of the information out.

"The symptoms are increased tears; foreign body sensation, which is the feeling that something is rubbing against your eye; pain or irritation, especially in the morning. The causes are various, most commonly an injury, either from blunt trauma or a deep cut; stroke; Bell's palsy; Möbius syndrome; autoimmune conditions, such as Guillain-Barré syndrome."

"Yeah…I knew that…" Clara rolled her eyes sarcastically. It did not interrupt Angie, though.

"It can also be caused by scarring from burns, injuries or certain medical conditions, such as Stevens-Johnson syndrome; eyelid surgery; floppy eyelid syndrome."

"How on Earth do you even know such random stuff!?" Clara dared raise her voice a little, so that Angie would hear her this time.

"When I was fifteen, some dumb biology teacher dared tell me that I was going to go blind if I kept staring at her without blinking, so I had to investigate."

"And why were you staring at her?"

"Girl, you know I was starin' that bitch down because she was dumb as Hell and I called her out on her incompetency."

"I'm scared to even ask…"

"We had this one assignment for the end of the year and then we had to present it to the class and it had to deal with the human body and the organs. While my classmates giggled and wrote about the butt and other things down there, I presented the fact – important to notice I say fact, not theory; that the prefrontal cortex, so that's the PFC shortly, is likely to play an important role in psychopathy. In particular, the ventromedial and anterior cingulate sectors of PFC are theorized to mediate a number of social and affective decision-making functions that appear to be disrupted in psychopathy."

"Sounds fun…" Clara said in a sarcastic tone.

Fifteen year olds surely would prefer hearing facts about butts and boobs, so she could see why Angie's presentation had flanked.

"It was fun!" Angie was oblivious to sarcasm. "But the teacher interrupted me mid-way through my presentation and she told me this was trash science and it had nothing to do with biology. Needless to say, I got a very poor score on that subject. Like…how dare she!? So, each time I saw her after this, I stared her down and I sat right in front of her, just to annoy the Hell out of her during the entire class. She then told me that if I don't blink, I'll go blind and it set me off. I researched as much as I could and I presented it in class after my-…" Angie stopped for a second and steadied herself before she would say too much.

"My uh, the person I was living with at the time, they came to the school and demanded I'd be granted one more chance at presenting, but this time in front of a 'jury' of teachers and they also brought two medical professionals to hear me out. So, this time I spoke about Lagophthalmos and I got a standing ovation from everyone but that bitch. I got my excellent grade and I was out of that dumb ass school before the year even ended. I was going to leave anyway, as we were moving to another country, but it was important to me to ruin that bitch before I left. I heard they fired her incompetent ass after this fiasco. Oh and also – I got all of my information from this website called healthline-dot-com. It's great, as the articles get periodically medically reviewed by professionals. And then I compared notes with and actual medical book on Ophthalmology."

"Hey, this one I can translate!" Clara's face lit up happily, now that she could understand what Angela had said. "The Greek roots of the word ophthalmology are ὀφθαλμός – ophthalmos for 'eye'; and λoγία – logia for 'study, discourse'. So, literally that's 'the study of eyes'."

"Exactly!" Angie squealed. She was grateful for each time Clara had been able to follow her weird discourses in different languages.

"God, you're so smart and I love you so much!" Angie's additional words came out of nowhere, right before she threw herself at Clara, giving her a warm hug.

"Oh?" Clara gasped, but returned the hug willingly. "Uhm, thank you."

"And now that you've spent the past six minutes trying to change the subject, do you mind telling me why you reacted this way to my words earlier?" Clara swiftly brought the topic back to what it was before Angie had nerded out.

"Dang it, you're too smart!" Angie groaned. "Fine, remember when I said that when we blink, tears spread to moisture our eyes?"

"Yes, I was very attentive when you mentioned that." With one hand on Angie's cheek, Clara continued. "Were you afraid that if you blink, maybe a tear would roll down this beautiful cheek?"

Angie bit her lip and looked away.

"Okay, Prentiss, might wanna work on that obvious giveaway of yours. Don't ever play poker with such a loud tell." Clara enlightened the mood and it helped Angie relax.

"Prentiss…" Angie repeated.

"Yeah, I was joking that you're like Prentiss, as that's also Emily's tell. Either the lip biting or that loud and obnoxious way in which she blows out air when she's stressed. Everybody knows that about her." Clara pointed out.

"Angela…" Angie muttered to herself.

"Prentiss." She added in a tone just above a whisper.

Clara froze in place. Never in a million years had she thought Angela would say something like that. And what was she even hinting at?

"Well…it does have a nice ring to it." After a quick moment of panic, Clara spoke softly. She knew better than to say anything else that might trigger the girl in front of her.

"Mhm." Angie said, absentmindedly.

Clara could tell that girl was now only physically there. God knows where she was at, mentally.

"It also suits you. It originates from the Old English word 'aprentis', which meant 'learner of a craft'. In the Middle Ages, workers and tradesmen didn't learn occupations in school. Instead, they would find an accomplished master of the craft and learn it directly from them in return for free labor during the period of apprenticeship. Sounds familiar?" Clara's moment to shine like a nerd finally came.

She was very interested in name origins and she had read numerous books on those. Quite like Angie, Clara was very versatile in what she liked to know and sometimes she'd surprise the people around her with some weird and not commonly-known fact.

"What, the free labor? Pff!" Angie burst in laughter as she spoke.

"Girl, don't be twistin' my words!" With her pointy finger in the air, Clara gave Angie a mockingly threatening look.

"Yeah, jokes aside – I'd be an amazing Prentiss, if that were to be the case." Angie came out with it.

Not even a second later, she realized she had been a bit too honest.

"I need to pee!" She announced loudly, standing up and walking to the nearest trash bin to dunk her empty juice cup in, before she headed towards the rest-rooms sign.

"Good God, I don't even know how Emily deals with that…" Clara murmured to herself, following Angie.

She adored this girl, but she often did not know how to act around her or what to say. She knew her very well so far, but still she'd sometimes find herself in a situation where even just a single word might trigger Angela into remembering whatever trauma from her past that her mind had worked incredibly hard to forget. Clara had tried to spend less time with the girl, so she'd have less opportunities to potentially send her into a panic attack, but it had proven to be impossible. She loved Angela way too much and she'd rather hurt her with her words and then be there for her while she weeps, than ignore her existence and deprive Angela from that one sane grown-up person who is able to understand…up to an extent; to listen; to give amazing advice and to then heal some of those wounds that Angela was hiding.


REVIEW REPLIES:

"Guest" Hi :)! I suppose you might be the Guest from India who used to review from time to time? Happy to hear from you, whoever you are :)! Hehe yeah, I created this entire story based on one HUGE secret (accompanied by several smaller ones), so it would have the feel of a mystery novel. I never reveal a secret until I would have teased about it mercilessly, giving hints and letting the readers try to decipher it first. I like reading books/stories where a huge secret takes place and I don't get to know about it until much later on, so this inspired me to write my own story this way :) If you are confused about something or have a question, you can always private msg me (if you have an account) or leave me a review and I'll answer it in the next chapter I post.

"mpcmfan" Hi :) Yup, Emily is having a grand ol' time guessing the most ridiculous professions. Can't deny she's curious to know, but she has two problems with that. One - what if he's not as good as he paints himself out to be? She is terrified of possibly having put herself in yet another Ian Doyle-like situation. And two - if he tells her about his job, she has to tell him about hers and she'd then spend every moment second-guessing anything he says. If he gives her a compliment, would it be founded or would it only be said in order to kiss her 'big FBI boss' ass!? Right now, this 'relationship' feels strangely normal and genuine for her and she has NEVER had that before, so she's afraid that if she changes any of the variables, things would take a turn for the worse. And yeah, her Lauren money is safely tucked in a bank and she has never touched it after receiving it when the Doyle case got closed, all those years ago. Her current 'financial hurdle' stems from the fact that she's ONLY using Emily's FBI salary and she refuses to touch a cent from any of her offshore accounts, knowing what she had done to earn that money. And Emily 'invests' a lot of money into 'something' currently, which does not leave her as well off as before. Also, yeah Richard's wealth put her off a bit, at the very beginning. She could tell he has a LOT of money, so there was certainly that voice in her head that spooked her out, making her wonder if he'd turn out to be some weird rich dude who'd look down on people. However, seeing how he treats everyone and how people adore him, Emily stopped thinking about his money and started analyzing his manners, instead. Yes, she grew up super wealthy and she knows how money and power can ruin a family, but she is seeing NONE of the indicators, in Richard's case.

Well...all I can currently say is that Richard does not give a damn about Emily's job. He doesn't ask or comment on clues, as he knows it makes Emily feel uncomfortable. And Victor would never dare investigate anyone that makes his best friend happy...whatever the circumstances might be. Victor is Team Emily all the way and he supports Richard in his newlyfound happiness...howeveeeeer...he is also the voice of reason, constantly begging Richard to come clean, even if it means disrespecting Emily's wishes. One of the two men has the right approach...we'll later on see who that guy has been all along.

I looooooove writing scenes for Angie and Clara! Those two are already cuckoo on their own, but together they are just insane! It seems like they have their own way of communicating and saying things in the most cryptic way. And despite Angie rolling her eyes whenever Clara tries to reason with her, she respects the crap out of that woman and those words are actually sinking in...maybe even helping her through rough times now.

Now, about those clues... :) The sports camp doesn't seem to have anything in common with anything in the story. However, it has been put there deliberately and holds its own little secrets... (Gets explained later on). As for Angie's origins, I can only answer with a question: remember those phone calls Clara had with someone she kept calling 'my love', a while back in the story...and how she openly commented on Angie being the way she is - 'no surprise, considering whose kid she is'. That's all :) Lol! Gotta keep you reading...a good writer doesn't reveal the plot twists in advance! (Taking the piss out of myself here. I know I'm far from good, lol, but I'm enjoying the heck out of creating this lil story, so I don't care hehe!)

Ah JJ...imagine the 'things' she may have found stuffed at the bottom of those drawers lol! And about the size...I mean...girl, listen...Emily has been through enough trauma...figured the least I can do for her is to give her a big...ehm, stimulating reward, well...ya know...she seems the type that would appreciate one. And I should stop talking before I'd need to rate my review REPLY an 'M' hahaha!

"Ducksdragonfly" Well, I'm being brave here and exploring Emily's inner thoughts and the effect her undercover past has on her (like I wish the show would have done). Who she is now (in my story) is a direct reflection of who she has been, what she has been through as Lauren and not only. Doyle screwed her up, but he also made her stronger, which is something she is only realizing NOW, having Richard by her side. And hmmm, them being equals in many ways? Weeeeellllll...you just wait for it :D

LOL! I saw a backstage interview where one of the actors mentioned JJ's desk is always huge mess (or maybe it was mentioned in the show?), but I struggle to believe she'd be messy. With two boys, I believe she might have the ability to keep her sh.t together and organize what's important, so I play it like she's got a messy work desk, but an organized home life, because of the kids. Thus, she was able to pack Emily's luggage quickly and VERY efficiently.

And now...I can't answer ANY of your other questions/speculations :P Let me try and be annoyingly vague here lol:

Emily wants to keep the relationship to herself, just like she wants to keep her real identity (an FBI bad ass queen) a secret from him. That's because she has NEVER been able to have BOTH, together, so now that she's found a man that she cares about, she is afraid to risk it and to end up alone, as usual, if he starts worshiping her mainly because of her work status. Therefor, Emily is hesitant to show ANYONE his photo, because in her mind this is like a little fairy tale she is living and, selfishly, she doesn't want to share it with anyone, beyond some spoken info and details she gives only to JJ, Clara and sometimes Angela. Now...that's why EMILY does not show his photo to anyone. HOWEVER...why do I, as the writer, want it to be this way? Wellllllll...things are WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY more complex than the readers even realize, at this point...and I'll leave it at that, for now :D

WOAH, WHO SHE KILLED!? Did you profile it about her? :) Now, there's major trauma in her past, in fact - on multiple occasions. You've already seen how comfortable she was at the medical examiner's office, after JJ assumed she'd be a wreck and cry her heart out. And when Clara killed the UnSub in Cuba, Angie seemed completely unbothered to have him bleed out, on top of her. She also doesn't seem to care how much pain she'd inflict on an individual, IF they deserve it. The bubbliness and the hair accessories are definitely a front, even though they are part of who she REALLY is. Sometimes, when she's over the top happy and twerking around in the club, deep down inside she might feel the polar opposite. She sure as Hell knows how to pretend, how to deceive someone, etc. And YES, Monkey DOES know almost everything about Angela's past. Now, Angela never TOLD them about her trauma, but Monkey profiled it all about her and they never had to SPEAK about it, but Monkey had always been a huge support in Angela's life, until they 'betrayed' her and 'left' her. (It is a HUGE story arc later on, when flashbacks put you right in the middle of it all, when Angela would have been a teen.

In the show, the BAU was referred to as the "gem of the FBI'. So, despite the numerous allegations and hurdles, the internal investigations and the Hearing, the BAU has an insanely high rating, making it IMPOSSIBLE to get in. And Angela, being a nobody and just a Trainee, sure is going to struggle, especially with the budget cuts now and the fact that the higher ups think EMILY filed the papers, saying one of the ways to tackle the new budget was to NOT welcome an intern this year. So, Angela would have to want it REALLY bad, and also to prove herself CONSTANTLY, in order to get in...and then it's not a sure thing, anyway.

It's Summer :) I'm posting a bit less, as people are online less, so I have to adjust my schedule, too. You waited, but 134 was an important chapter and I hope a fun one, too, lol! I tried to be super vague, but still point out the obvious fact that those two are just something else, together :D!

"sweetkid45" Remember that Emily does NOT hate/blame Richard for leaving at the end of their first week together. She sort of understands that he HAD to do it and she's not one to judge, as she's also HAD to leave everyone and everything behind, when JJ and Hotch had faked her death before. So, in a way, she can relate and put herself in his shoes. Richard's truth IS going to be hurtful, keep that in mind. However, Emily can choose either to be hurt by it, or to accept it and understand it. We'll see later on. But it is a HUGE thing that he's keeping from her (because she constantly BEGS him NOT to tell her, even though he's wanted to be honest from the beginning!). WOAH WAIT, NO, NO, NOOOOO...Angela and Clara do NOT have a flirt going on AT ALL! Hehehe! They tease each other all the time, but in a friendly way. NO IMPLIED ROMANTIC FEELINGS, AT ALL!