Okay, so I think her coping mechanisms have changed throughout the years in terms of how they present - but the core has remained the same.
Our girl is honestly going through it….
She unwinds with alcohol (sometimes too much). I think this has changed throughout her life. Thirty/forty-something Emily would perhaps have a beer or a few drinks out at a bar - sometimes with friends (usually Morgan), sometimes alone and make a friend there. However, as she’s become increasingly powerful at the BAU, I think she’s more likely to have a few fingers of scotch or a glass or two of wine (probably red) in her office or at home alone. I think this is partially ‘convenience’ (or self isolation but who am I to judge) and partially a habit she’s picked up from Rossi since they would sometimes do it together. As a bonus one here, I guess, we canonically know she uses edibles too but I feel like she reserves these for when she knows she has a day or two off afterwards. She says they help her ‘think’ but they actually help her escape.
She smokes and always has. Saying that, I think she used to go periods where she’d ‘quit’ for a few months then come back to it after a horrendous case or when shit hits the fan with her mom or something. When Rossi notices her struggling, he might offer to smoke a cigar with her and hope she talks. When Tara notices her struggling, she offers her a cigarette and a chat. Others notice she’s struggling but I don’t think they’d use nicotine as a vice as much as Tara and David. Derek actively discourages smoking and JJ just raises an affectionate eyebrow when she smells smoke, just to acknowledge that she’s seen Emily and JJ will come back to that later. (No I’m not acknowledging the jemily blackout they’re fucking talking behind the scenes stop it.)
When Emily is travelling with the team, her and JJ share a hotel room, even when they don’t technically need to. Particularly after a hard case or during a hard case, they will sleep in one hotel room just for comfort. They’re not ‘scared’, as such. But they see so much horror that sometimes it slips just a little under Emily’s skin (JJ’s too) and they feel safer knowing the other is there but comfortable enough that if they did have a nightmare, there would be no judgement. I think Emily really struggled when JJ was on maternity leave or after JJ’s brief interlude with the state department. And, unfortunately, I don’t think anyone noticed how much she was struggling with being the lone woman in the field because I think the boys don’t really ‘see’ Emily as a ‘woman’ in the field. And I’m not saying they should treat her differently to the men but there is also a particular vulnerability that comes with sexism that has a mental toll - even though Emily can handle herself. Whether JJ and Emily are platonic or romantic is irrelevant: gender disparities and everyday sexism are, unfortunately, common and sometimes dangerous in their field of work. It makes sense that there would be some camaraderie and comfort in quiet, mutual, acknowledgement.
The woman absolutely watches telenovelas (especially since she’s fluent in Spanish) and/or sci-fi/nerdy shit. She loves the over dramatic storylines and absolute scandal of telenovelas. Emily gets overly invested in it and audibly gasps into her wine when something fun happens. When she’s watching something nerdy she’s just entirely locked in, ready to be swept away. I dunno, I think she loves E.T. And she totally watches Dr Who. This woman and Spencer have had marathons and she has blackmailed him into not telling the others. Sometimes, on a bad day, she sticks on an old episode she’s seen before just to revel in the poor special effects and wonderfully chaotic storylines.
Sex was a vice but, as she’s become busier at work, she’s seeking less sex and connection. This is partially because she’s exhausted from the million responsibilities she has and partially because she’s insecure. I know Emily comes off as completely secure in herself but I think she’s faking it until she makes it a little. Not necessarily that she hates anything extreme but just small things like she feels ‘out of practice’ at flirting and the whole picking someone up doesn’t seem worth the effort. She’d rather just have some alone time with a vibrator and call it a night than spend hours in a bar looking for someone who she’ll have to work for. She finds it too much work. I also think there’s a bit of self-isolation going on too, especially as we get into evolution. Emily doesn’t want to connect with others because she doesn’t want anyone to ‘see’ her - not personally or intimately. Although a one night stand isn’t necessary intimate, it has the potential to be, and that terrifies her.
Okay so Emily is a nerdy, emotionally constipated, power woman. We already knew this. Although some of these turned out to be a little darker than I thought whoops. So, here’s my dumb two cents on how this would play out after hours. Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.
tags: established relationship, attempt at humour, fluff, implied mature themes, emily's sister, lighthearted teasing, strained family dynamics
summary: emily gets a visitor. which would've been fine if you weren't in minimal clothing.
word count: 2.4k
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a/n: i think emily is the most only child to ever only child BUT i wanted to use this as a plot device lmao (tho its still fuck canon) IM SORRY THIS IS SO BAD I LOST INSPIRATION HALFWAY THROUGH
read on ao3 or below the cut
It's not usual that Emily gets a real day off. Most times she's “free”, she's still taking phone calls and doing paperwork.
This time, though, she said she'd turn off her phone and she did. The night before, she made a show of turning it off and leaving it in her desk drawer, all the way in the home office. You laughed at her antics, but were clearly glad to see it — the thing had interrupted you way too many times. Then, she had made a dinner that you both thoroughly enjoyed and you actually managed to enjoy her for the night without that shrill ringtone in your ears.
This morning, she takes long to wake up. It's already nine by the time you open your eyes, something that rarely happens, and Emily is still sleeping, worn out, probably. From her long week or your activities the night before, well, that's yet to be determined. Either way, your stomach rumbles irritatingly, but you decide to ignore it for now.
Emily slowly blinks awake, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks when they move. You scoot closer, keeping her face in your line of sight. She smiles unconsciously at the feeling of being so close to you, even half asleep.
“Morning,” she mumbles, turning her face away even though you've told her a million times you don't mind the morning breath.
You tilt her face back to you with a soft hand on her jaw, “morning.” Smiling, you nip at her chin, then leave a kiss on her cheek.
Emily hums. “Any plans?”
“Sure,” you say, breathing her in after hiding your face in her neck. “They involve you and this bed.”
“That's it?”
“Mhm,” you agree.
Emily turns on her side, bringing your body with hers. Her hand drifts down to your waist, squeezing as she lands there, then she closes the gap between you, apparently over her own made up issue.
You kiss her slowly, savoring the time you have together, something that's not common or even to be taken for granted. Your fingers wrap in her silver hair, pulling just enough to sting, just enough that she lets out that delighted little sound in the back of her throat.
You're about to throw a leg over hers, growing impatient by the second, though your stomach has other plans. It rumbles again, causing you to groan annoyedly.
Emily laughs, pulling away reluctantly, “let me make you something.”
You shake your head, turning away and picking up her shirt from the floor. It's a button down, but you don't bother buttoning it up all the way, just enough to ward off the cold. “I'll just grab a banana and I'll be back.” You look back at her, pointing a finger, “don't move.”
She smiles, “wouldn't dream of it.”
Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, only because you forgot slippers and the floor is always so damn cold in the morning, you try to quickly make your way to the kitchen. On the way there, though, something catches your eye.
Doing a double take, you let out an involuntary yelp.
Because there's someone sleeping on Emily's couch. Someone you have never seen before.
Well, they were sleeping before you screamed. Now, the woman is slowly blinking up at you, her forehead creased in a frown.
Emily, mercifully clothed, in a t-shirt and sleep shorts — clothed nonetheless —, comes running out of the bedroom, her eyes fully open in panic. She doesn't even get a word out before you're hiding behind her and turning her body towards the intruder, hoping she knows what to do, due to being law enforcement and all. Maybe. Consciously, you know you're just being a bit of a coward.
“What the fu- Sarah?!” She exclaims surprisedly, frowning strongly now.
Oh. Sarah! Sarah?
The woman waves from the couch, placing her other hand on her forehead and pressing, perhaps to ease some pain.
You had no idea Emily's sister was in town, you didn't even know she had a key to Emily's apartment. Surely Emily would've said something about it?
“What are you doing here?” Emily asks, still half shocked. The other half… you're not so sure. “How the fuck did you get in?”
“Mom lent me her copy of your key.” She waves a hand, now bored of the commotion.
“Just like that? Without asking me?”
Sarah shrugs, “I told her I'd stay with her, gently, she told me to come here. Nice place, by the way. Have you been back from London for long?”
“Um,” you clear your throat before Emily can reply. Catching her attention, you give her an awkward smile, “I'm gonna go change into something less- You know.”
Quickly darting into the bedroom, you let out a sigh of relief when the door is finally closed behind you.
More annoyed now than anything after the adrenaline has passed, you start looking for something to wear. Your first free weekend with Emily in weeks gets interrupted by her estranged sister. Seriously, what kind of cosmical joke–
You hear Emily introduce you through the door, the slight shiver present whenever she says my girlfriend right after your name. You walk further away from the door fast, not wanting to intrude.
Following Emily's lead, you find sweatpants and a modest t-shirt of hers to wear. Hopefully it'll tell Sarah that you don't intend to have visitors for long, even if the apartment is not yours. The point stands.
Slowly creeping into the living room, you find the silence oddly disconcerting. Emily is still standing, Sarah still sitting, and they're both just looking at each other without saying anything.
Ever so gently, you move next to Emily. As if not trying to spook a cat, for a second thinking of Sergio who's probably still sleeping, hiding from all the noise somewhere, you lay a hand on her arm.
She turns to you, her eyes immediately softening the slightest bit. You smile minutely, “want me to put the kettle on?”
“Oh, some coffee would be great. I have the worst headache,” Sarah complains from the couch, leaning back into the cushions now that you have interfered with their staring contest.
Emily ignores her, “we'd love some tea, honey, thanks.”
Moving to the open floorplan kitchen, you secretly curse the fact that there's no wall for you to hide behind to listen to their conversation. Unfortunately, you'll have to settle by pretending to be busy making tea, which usually just takes five minutes, as they talk.
“Did mom give you the security code as well?”
“Yes! April 14th, what's it for, anyway?” She asks curiously. Emily doesn't respond.
You think of Sergio again. His birthday. Or, well, his made up birthday. You both decided on one for him after Emily told you she had an old rescue cat at home, in the very beginning of your relationship.
In no time, you feel his tail on your shins.
Crouching down, you scratch behind his ears, whispering good morning to him and promising you'll put his food out soon.
“What are you doing here?” Emily finally asks again, crossing her arms.
Sarah sighs tiredly, “I went to a friend's birthday party last night.”
Emily hums knowingly, “and went back to mom's estate?”
Looking up, you notice Sarah nodding.
“She didn't want you there drunk, so you came here.”
“Look, I just had a little nap. I figured, you're my sister, so what's the harm?”
Stopping short in the middle of pouring Sergio's kibble into his bowl, “wait. What time did you even get in? How did we not hear you?”
“Don't worry,” she smiles. “I didn't hear anything, if that's what you're wondering.”
You feel your cheeks heating up involuntarily.
Emily clears her throat pointedly, “leave my girlfriend alone.” She walks over and sits on a barstool, her back to you as she stares her sister down. “What time did you get in?”
“Around seven,” Sarah shrugs. “Look, can I just have some ibuprofen and a small nap? I'll get out of your hair after, I promise.”
Scoffing, Emily turns, that deep frown still between her eyebrows. You wish you could smooth it out.
“Would you grab the advil, please, sweetheart?” She asks, her voice low and just for you. You smile encouragingly at her, hoping she'll understand what you mean.
Handing her the bottle, you squeeze her hand quickly before she turns away again.
“Not even a glass of water?” Sarah jokes, taking the pills. “Wow, you're reminding me so much of mom.”
Waiting for the tea to steep, you risk a look at them. From this angle, you can clearly see the resemblance in their sloped noses and the shape of their cheekbones. They both look more like Elizabeth than anything, you remember from the few pictures of Emily's childhood that you've seen.
Most photos were from official events, Emily with her parents and her sister, sitting in front of some expensive piece of art or in a well maintained garden. Their ten year age difference was clear, but only on height — Emily still had a baby face, no matter that she's older. Only a couple were of Emily alone, more candid, and she told you those were taken by her grandfather in her visits to the Alps. As children, they definitely looked more alike than they do now, but you can see it if you really pay attention.
You push both mugs towards the edge of the counter, closer to Emily. Your own mug stays beside you as Sergio jumps on the island, still impressively quick for an old man. You scratch his head, leaving a kiss on it.
Looking over, you see Emily extend her hand, holding out one of the mugs for Sarah to take. Her sister scrunches up her nose, but takes it anyway.
“How long are you in town for?” Emily asks, sipping from her own way-too-hot mug as usual, earning a glare from you as she casts you a glance. The blip of normalcy eases the tension in your shoulders.
“I thought I might stay,” Sarah shrugs.
“Not here?” She poses it as a question, or at least tries, but everyone in the room knows it's not one. Even Sergio.
Sarah rolls her eyes, “no, Emily, not here.” She drinks her tea, surprisingly making an appreciative face. “With mom, of course.”
You walk around the island, leaning back on the counter next to Emily's barstool.
She lets out a loud laugh, “good luck with that.”
“I think we can coexist in a ten thousand square foot house, right?” Sarah asks, looking unconvinced even as she says it.
Emily places an arm around your waist distractedly, “maybe if you stay in the pool house.”
Sarah looks at you both, cataloguing your body language, you're pretty sure. “Look, I don't wanna ruin your weekend.”
Emily waits her out, sipping her tea.
“I'll just go back to mom and crawl until she takes me back. I can take two hours of a lecture about my drinking problem.” Okay, that's new. You didn't know that.
Sighing tiredly, Emily shakes her head. “Stay.”
If you're being honest, that decision surprises you. You would've guessed Emily might've offered to drive her to Elizabeth's, or to pay for a hotel room, but now… You see the way Emily looks at Sarah, like she's just her little sister again.
“Just for tonight. And you're not going out to drink again.” She crosses her arms, as if talking to a misbehaving child, “actually, I'm hiding all of the alcohol.”
Sarah rolls her eyes yet again.
Emily turns to you, “let's eat something, I know you're starving.”
You chuckle slightly, “I kind of forgot about that, to be honest.”
As you're eating — even Sarah, who's managing to keep down some dry toast —, Sergio jumps on your lap.
“What's his name again?” She asks, pointing at the cat.
“Sergio,” Emily says, eating her scrambled eggs impressively fast for someone who claims she doesn't get hungry in the mornings.
“Oh!” Sarah perks up, “like that butler we once had!”
Incredulous, you look at Emily in question.
“Shit.”
You let out a loud laugh, “you named your cat after a butler?! You aristocrat.”
“Okay,” she protests. “Not consciously!”
“He was pretty somber. Like a black cat!” Sarah counters. “Mom claimed he was efficient but too depressing.”
You hum, “Elizabeth always manages to surprise me, somehow.”
“Have you met?” She asks, with genuine interest now.
“A few times,” you shrug. “She's always been cordial.”
“Yeah,” Emily scoffs, “she loves to pester us, not others. Just wait until you mov- I mean,” she corrects herself, “until she's more familiar with you.”
You find it cute how she's blushing. It's been a few weeks since she gave you a key, but has yet to properly ask — you know better than to rush her, so you haven't said anything.
Sarah presses her lips together in amusement, but keeps quiet. Thankfully.
When you finally manage to get some time alone it's because Sarah has succumbed to her much desired nap. In Emily's room, you start tidying up the clothes from the night before that have ended up on the floor.
Swiftly, you feel Emily's arms wrapping around you from behind, stopping your movements.
“I'm sorry.”
You frown, turning to catch a glimpse of her face, “for what?”
“I didn't even ask how you felt about her staying. I know you don't know each other.” She sighs, “even I barely know her.”
You turn in her arms, placing what you hope are comforting hands on her shoulders, “it's your apartment, your sister… You decide what's best.”
“Well,” she says petulantly, “I was hoping it would be our apartment soon.”
Smiling, you wrap your arms around her neck, “you were too afraid to ask, I gather.”
“I wasn't afraid,” Emily rolls her eyes.
“Sure,” you smirk. “Well, if it means that much to you, no, I don't mind if she stays. She's still your sister. You grew up together.”
“Grew apart together…” She mumbles. “Are you sure you don't wanna go to yours? Maybe christen some surfaces before you move in here.”
You give her a look. One that says you know exactly what she's trying to do.
Emily shrugs, “worth a try.” She squeezes your waist, leaving a peck on your lips. “This was supposed to be our free weekend.”
“Well, we can still have our weekend,” you argue, kissing her once, twice. “We still have a shower... And I don't know about you,” you walk backwards, pulling on her hands in the direction of the ensuite, “but I can be very quiet.”
Omg would it kill them to properly hug once dude??? Its like the yuri version of two guys chilling in a hot tub five feet apart cause theyre not gay for the love of god
