𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝑫𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔.
Emily Prentiss x Reader
word count: 2.7k
𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘺 @urfavfatg: 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘶 (𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘣𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘣𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 :)))
𝘢/𝘯: 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 (𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 3 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘭) 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!!
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"Ughh, I hate this job," the brunette at the desk in front of you sighs dramatically.
The team had been stuck doing paperwork the past couple of days, and slowly but surely you were all losing your minds. Morgan kept annoying Reid, much to the latter’s demise, Hotch looked even more miserable than usual, JJ and Garcia were taking coffee-breaks that far exceeded their socially acceptable time, and you were convinced that Rossi was smoking cigars on the roof every hour or so.
And then there was Emily, who apparently had made it her mission to let you partake in the miseries of her own paperwork—thus actively keeping you from doing your own.
Not that you were really complaining. It was hard to be mad at Emily, for anything really. Okay, it was hard for you to be mad at Emily. Perfect, smart, and gorgeous Emily, who was consuming your every waking thought ever since you had figured out that your attraction to her wasn’t totally platonic after all. Unfortunately, you were convinced that that was all it was for Emily: A totally platonic friendship. That involved a lot of teasing. And the occasional flirty message.
You were certain, that she absolutely did not feel the same way. That she was just being Emily. After all, she had always been like this with you.
"No you don’t," you answer her sincerely, a smile now slowly creeping up your face.
"They want me to justify kicking down the door during that case we had in Boston a few weeks ago," she claims, looking distraught. "Because apparently the fact that we could hear the Unsub screaming inside wasn’t enough of a reason…"
"Aww, you poor thing."
"I know, right? I am being tortured. This is a hostile work environment. I should be able to sue somebody over this!"
"Em, you’re the one who destroyed private property while on duty…"
"Honey, it’s not like I had a choice!"
The nickname makes your stomach drop. You really should’ve gotten used to it by now, to the names and the teasing. But there was no 'getting used to' when it comes to Emily—at least not for you.
You hear a quiet snicker from the desk behind you, where Morgan seems to have forgotten all about distracting Reid from his files, and is suddenly studying his own a little too intently.
"What?" Your question is laced with genuine confusion.
"What?" He answers innocently, evidently avoiding your previous question, which gets him a warning glance from Emily. Not even a little bit concerned, Morgan just shrugs, smiles, and turns back to his files. Well, at least he pretends to.
"I don’t know why I do this to myself," Emily continues, her focus now back on you. "I should’ve quit months ago!"
"And leave me all alone in this madhouse? That would qualify as friend-neglect, you know that right?"
"That isn’t even a word!"
"It is now."
Emily grins. "I hate you."
"No you don’t." You make eye contact with her then, one brow slightly raised as you challenge her to take back that last statement.
"You’re right, I really don’t… ," she says, her expression softening.
For a second, neither one of you says anything, the tension suddenly palpable in the air. That is until Emily clears her throat and immediately switches back to her (admittedly very good) fake-frown.
"I still hate this job though, I should totally quit."
"Emily!"
"Awww babe, don’t worry. I would never actually leave you."
You simply stare at her.
Across the room, JJ immediately seems to have forgotten all about the cup of coffee in her hand, Garcia’s focus is locked on the two of you like a sniper who is watching his target, and Reid looked like he was witnessing a successful science experiment.
"Oh come on, you guys cannot be serious," Morgan exclaims as he leans back in his chair.
"What?" You repeat the question from earlier, furrowed brows making your confusion visible.
The other agent dramatically gestures between you and Emily before exasperatedly holding up his hands. "Nothing."
Emily looks like she is about to throw her pen at him. "How about you mind your own business and do your paperwork, huh?"
"I am doing my paperwork," he claims, his tone now defensive.
"You have been staring at the same page for the last 20 minutes…"
"Well, you can’t really blame me for getting distracted, can you?"
"Distracted by what?"
Morgan stares at her, looking absolutely appalled by her answer. "Dude…"
The brunette simply roles her eyes, while you try to bite back a laugh. "You guys are absolutely impossible, you know that right?" Your attempt at staying serious is nothing short of pathetic.
"Oh come on, you love having me around."
"More than anything," you answer without thinking.
***
The team’s banter had quieted down significantly, everyone finally focused on what they should have been doing hours ago. Regardless, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander every once in a while, because, unfortunately, it was still pretty hard to focus with Emily sat right in front of you. Much to your surprise, as your eyes wander to her desk once again, she is already looking at you, her dark eyes lost in thought.
"My love, I don’t know about you, but I think somebody should definitely go out and get the team some coffee that is actually drinkable." How Garcia had managed to suddenly appear behind you was beyond you, but there was also no use in questioning anything that had to do with the self-proclaimed 'tech-goddess' of the FBI.
"Penelope, you’re reading my mind!" The way Emily’s eyes light up at the mere thought of decent coffee almost makes you laugh out loud.
"I know that’s right. Okay well, I’ll just text you everyone’s orders once you’re on the way sooo you guys should totally leave like right now…sounds good? Perfect! Off you go, my lovelies!"
"Wait wha- … Pen, I thought you meant you want me to come with you?"
"No, you see I have some very important stuff to do like right now. Cannot wait. Very unfortunate. Text me when you’re back!"
Before either of you could really process what just happened, Garcia was already out the door and on her way back to her bat cave.
"Well, I guess its a date," you shrug, already halfway out of your chair. Struggling to find your car keys in the depths of your purse, you are too distracted to notice Emily’s puzzled expression, or the way her eyes snapped up after your previous statement. Neither do you notice Morgan’s raised eyebrows, or the warning gaze the brunette shoots him right after.
When you finally manage to find your keys, Emily hasn’t moved. She’s still sitting behind her desk, eyes trained on you with an expression you can’t quite place. You narrow your gaze: "Something wrong?"
"Nope," she answers a little bit to fast while rushing to get to her feet. She grabs her jacket form the back of her chair and slips it on in one smooth motion, suddenly seeming very eager to get out of the bull pen. "Let’s go, hon."
There it was again. One of those stupid nicknames that you enjoyed just a little too much.
You’re still hung up on it as the two of you are walking towards the elevator. Purposefully, you try maintaining more space between you and Emily than you usually would. You’re almost dreading the ride down. Because it means being alone with her. And being alone with Emily usually involved letting your guard down sooner or later—something that isn’t particularly helpful if you’re trying to play things cool.
The brunette’s presence is almost overwhelming. You can feel the warmth radiating off of her as she’s standing beside you. You can smell her perfume. And, worse of all, you know she’s looking at you. Again. You stare at the numbers above the elevator doors instead.
Emily clears her throat. "So, you really think that this is a date?"
Your heart drops, and your quiet "no" comes out too quickly to be entirely convincing. "Uhm I mean…obviously I was just joking."
"Right…obviously." Emily’s teasing smile falters for just one second, but it’s enough to immediately make you regret your answer.
"Although," you add carefully, "I mean I guess it could be."
"What?"
"I mean getting coffee together, some might call that a date."
"Some?"
"Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Prentiss!"
There it was again. That stupid smile that could make you forget about everything. "Wouldn’t dream of it, darling." She winks. The doors open. Your brain short-circuits.
***
The air inside the coffee shop hits you with its familiar warmth as you slowly make your way up to the counter. The smell of fresh coffee mixes with that of all the different pastries, and somehow you feel at ease. At this point, you’ve been here so many times, you could recite their menu in your sleep—or start working behind the counter yourself.
While you quickly try to sort through the wide array of beverage orders Garcia had texted you, Emily is already ordering herself. An order you know by heart because you’ve heard it one too many times: One large coffee. Usually black. Sometimes with Splenda.
Today is no different. What IS different, is the fact that she doesn’t stop after her own order to let you do the rest. Instead, she continues to order for you, too. Your exact order. Down to the smallest details.
You’re pretty sure you must have lost control of each and every one of your facial expression while you keep staring at her, unsure if you had just imagined the whole thing.
"You remembered," you whisper.
Emily shrugs. "Of course I remembered."
Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that some time in the past couple of minutes you must have subconsciously moved closer to each other, your shoulders now slightly brushing against one another. Neither one of you moves away.
It is only when the barista shouts out the insanely large coffee order that the both of you snap out of your trance. In sync, you reach for the two cupholders on the counter, fingers brushing against each other as you both grab one of them. The small touch alone makes your heart skip a beat, and you could have sworn that Emily’s breath hitched just a little bit.
In silence, you make your way back to the car, none of you willing or able to admit that something had shifted between the two of you. Maybe it was finally a shared realization that what you had far exceeded a normal friendship. Or maybe it was just that sometime within the past couple of days, things had gotten weird between you. Not uncomfortable, not ever. But different.
***
Back at the Bureau, the rest of the team were sprawled around Morgan’s desk, eyes glued to the elevator doors.
"You think they finally admitted it to each other?" Garcia was fidgeting with the end of one of her 'special pens,' as she liked to call them.
JJ snickered. "Not a chance, I am not even sure they admitted it to themselves."
"They are so oblivious, it’s actually painful to watch. The sharpest minds of the FBI, everybody…can’t even admit that they’re madly in love with each other." Morgan leans back in his chair with an exasperated sigh, arms crossed in front of his chest.
Before the others could agree, the high sound of the elevator announces your return.
In lock step, you make your way across the bullpen. "Secured the goods!" You triumphantly hold up the steaming cups in your hand.
Morgan’s mischievous grin was warning enough that what was to come was most definitely going to be uncomfortable for Emily and you. "How was your date?"
You were seriously debating to throw his coffee at him right then and there.
"It wasn’t a date, we just got coffee… because you guys wanted us to," you answer defensively.
"Didn't you call it a date before you left?"
You look at Emily. Emily is already looking at you.
Morgan's smile grows. "You guys are unbelievable, really. Just adm—"
"She was joking," Emily interrupts, a little too eager to get out of the situation.
"Was I?" The words slip out before you can stop them, your face turning red as you quickly try to look anywhere else but at her. Or them.
Morgan's eyebrows shoot upward.
JJ slowly lowers her coffee.
Garcia looks like she might actually explode, and Reid looks back and forth between the two of you as if you were a math equation that was finally adding up.
You immediately regret speaking.
"I meant—"
"No, no," Morgan says, holding up a hand. "Please. Continue."
It is Emily that finally shuts the whole fiasco down: "Okay guys, you had your fun, now for the love of god, please take your coffees and get back to work."
You’re still staring at your feet, hoping that everyone would just let this go, but Garcia wouldn’t be Garcia if she didn’t pressure you until she got every last bit of gossip there possibly was.
"I have been watching this for months, waiting, working my magic. Please, for the love of god…" She looks genuinely frustrated now.
"Watching what?" Emily looks absolutely confused.
Garcia puts her head in her hands while Morgan gently pats her back. "You guys are breaking her," he snickers. And it is right there that Reid suddenly decides this is a good opportunity to contribute:
"She's referring to the fact that the two of you exhibit several behavioral patterns commonly associated with mutual romantic interest."
You look at him in shock. Emily’s jaw drops. Then her eyes find yours, soft and almost vulnerable. Something clicks in your brain, almost like the final puzzle piece that reveals the entire picture. Oh.
"Alright, I think we have done enough damage for today," Morgan finally breaks the silence.
"Speak for yourself," Garcia mutters under her breath, her grin suggesting that this conversation would be far from over if it were happening on her terms.
One by one, they (finally) disappear into their respective corners of the bullpen, until, eventually, it was just you and Emily again. Neither of you seemed entirely sure what to do with yourselves, your fingers now nervously tapping at the cup of coffee in your hands.
"So…" Emily doesn’t finish her sentence, whatever she had wanted to say disappearing somewhere on the way from her brain to her mouth.
You manage a small smile. "Yeah…"
That earns you a quiet laugh, Emily’s hands now anxiously rubbing the back of her neck. Was she actually nervous? In the months you had known each other, you had never seen her like this.
Something warm bloomed in your chest. Maybe you hadn’t imagined all of it—all of the little moments between the two of you that you convinced yourself had meant absolutely nothing. The nicknames, the occasional flirting, touches that seemed to linger just a little bit longer than they would have had to.
There was something soft and unspoken between the two of you now, neither of you daring to say it out loud, but both acutely aware of it. Then, Emily smiles at you:
"Get home safe, hon."
You stomach does its ridiculous flip again.
"Thanks…uhm, you too I mean," you manage to get out before practically sprinting back to your car.
Holy shit.
***
By the time you finally made it home, you had replayed the entire day in your head at least a hundred times—which also meant that you had come to some very important (and unfortunate) realizations:
One: You weren’t as good at hiding your crush as you had hoped…
Two: All of your coworkers know about it.
And three: Emily might actually feel the same way.
Fuck.
You’re still sitting at the edge of your couch, thoughts racing at one hundred miles and hour, when you finally get the courage to pick up your phone.
Your thumb hovers over Emily’s contact for a while. Then you start typing.
I loved our date. X
You stare at it for a few seconds. Definitely too much. You delete it again.
I really enjoyed our not-a-date :)
Better. Safer. Still fucking terrifying. You hit send before you can change your mind again.
You’re about to throw the phone across the room when you hear its familiar buzz. With a pounding heart, you build up the courage to unlock your screen again.
For what it’s worth, I think we should call it a date.
You stare at the screen, eyes open in shock. Holy fucking shit.
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𝘢/𝘯: 𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 (𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯), 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵! 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 (𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴/𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 :))
