Emily Prentiss was many things but exceptional had never been one of them. To her mother she was incredibly boorish with her dyed-dark hair and thick eyeliner, choosing police work instead of policy just to spite the diplomacy she had been born into. Her friends all thought she was notably entertaining as she did everything asked of her in a desperate attempt to maybe, just this once, be worthy of a friend that lasted longer than her mother’s tenure. The church made it abundantly clear that Emily was extraordinarily immoral as she walked to the very first row in the chapel that fateful Sunday as she wore a maxi pad reminiscent in shape of a diaper as the remnant of her desperation for acceptance leaked into her DuckTales briefs.

In college, Emily passed her classes with ease but couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort to be the straight-A student that she knew she was capable of being. What does it even matter if you know that no one is watching? C’s get degrees and getting straight B’s was more than enough for her own personal pat on the back. Recruited straight into the FBI after college, Emily bounced around assignments until she was considered for a transfer to the CIA. Her heart soared at the prospect that maybe this once she was being recognized for all of her hard work. Once she finished her undercover operatives training and was presented with a case file filled with ex-lovers of her target that looked exactly like her, Emily couldn’t help the distaste that filled her mouth as she realized that her good merit had nothing to do with her new position.

After Doyle, Emily floundered for two years, choosing to go back to school and get a graduate degree in general psychology as part of her mandatory recovery from such an intensive mission. The program itself was impressive, one of the only of its kind that adequately prepared for further study in any derivative of psychology. Emily actually enjoyed her coursework and found herself easily dedicating the time to getting top grades but with all of her colleagues viciously vying for a spot in the university’s competitive doctoral programs in psychology, she got lost among the masses of students doing award-winning research, securing national grants, and spending hours pestering the faculty to make sure that their name would be recognized next admissions season.

Emily Prentiss was many things but exceptional still wasn’t one of them.

To say her welcome to the BAU was warm would be nothing but completely deceitful. She had, once again, been chosen not through her own merit but in the interest of being used as a pawn in a political game she never consented to play. Erin Strauss wanted dirt on Aaron Hotchner to make sure he couldn’t threaten her throne and it seemed like everyone knew it except Emily until it was too late. Hotch made it known under no uncertain terms that she was not welcome on his team and that she was not to be trusted. Gideon was crass and Reid extraordinarily rude as she feebly attempted to make nice with the people who had the most pull in securing her position on the team she had so desperately wanted membership upon for as long as her credentials said Supervisory Special Agent.

She was exhausted.

What Emily didn’t notice, however, was the way that a certain blonde smirked at her in delight as she quickly and accurately translated a document from Arabic to English without a second thought. Penelope’s lip curled and eyebrow raised as she watched in awe of the magnificent woman. When she tells this story, she makes it exceedingly obvious that she had been taken by Emily Prentiss from the moment they were introduced and that Emily was then and had continued to be the most impressively enchanting woman she had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

As the days turned into months, Emily’s shell started to crack. She admitted to Derek that she had once again flubbed on a date, though her protective casing kept a secret the fact that her date had been a woman. JJ had convinced her to girls’ night at the bar and she brought them the best entertainment the local dive bar could offer: the public embarrassment of an arrogant man. Penelope didn’t say it then but she had been utterly shocked that when Emily came back with a man on her arm it was not intending to impress him but to showcase some of that spunk simmering under her surface that had been screaming to be set free for decades. If Emily accidentally let it slip that night that Brad had absolutely no redeeming qualities, punctuated with a scrunch of her nose when JJ mentioned the possibility of him maybe being good in bed, the youngest woman was none the wiser.

But Penelope noticed, like she always had, that this was yet again just another quality that made one Emily Prentiss so incredibly easy to love.

It wasn’t long after that that Penelope convinced Emily to go on a date. For weeks the two women had been spending time together alone, without the company or Reid or JJ. The blonde was fastidious with cataloging everything she learned with each adventure, especially those designed by the enigma herself. Following the carefully curated list of instructions Penelope had made for herself, she went out of her way to make sure Emily felt comfortable and wouldn’t for one second equate the experience to a tiger trapped in a cage. Chocolate and lasagna, two of Emily’s favorites, were dutifully packed in a wicker picnic basket along with a red gingham blanket and a citronella candle to keep the waterside mosquitoes at bay as the two women lounged near the Potomac, under a walnut tree.

“I can’t believe I have lived here for a year already,” Emily said as she forked some pasta and gracelessly shoved it in her mouth. That may just have been Penelope’s favorite part of the entire experience, seeing Emily’s walls come down so far that she had forgotten all of the etiquette drilled into her brain from a young age.

“Where did you live before?” Penelope asked as she started to uncork a second miniature bottle of wine for the two women to split. The question was genuine, the answer unknown to the technical analyst who vowed from that very first day in the conference room that every single piece of information she learned about Emily Prentiss would come from her own lips.

“Uh, well, I split my time between New York and Virginia for about two years,” Emily responded as she frustratedly tried to use her plastic fork to cut through a particularly crunchy noodle that may have been a tiny bit burnt from the edge of a baking dish well past due for retirement.

“Oh, New York! I love New York, I’ve always wanted to go. What were you doing up there?”

“I was getting my Master’s in Psychology in hopes of bettering my application for entrance to the BAU,” Emily said, setting the now-made-enemy lasagna on the blanket and reaching for the second piece of garlic bread. “Not that it mattered much anyway.”

Emily's last sentence was muttered under her breath like a secret Penelope shouldn’t have been told. But as with every single shred that Emily had shared with her, Penelope caught it and had to decide what to do with the information.

“What do you mean it didn’t matter?” Penelope asked as she reached her manicured fingers to touch the exposed skin of Emily’s forearm.

Emily scoffed and leaned back on her hands, tilting her head uncomfortably to the sky, her long, dark hair cascading down her back as she showcased her neck for Penelope. Her eyes darted from cloud to cloud and she licked her lips as she thought about how to respond.

“You know as well as I do, and the rest of the team for that matter, that I was only brought into the BAU so that Strauss could exploit me for information on Hotch. Nothing I did or accomplished had any bearing on getting onto the team. All that mattered was that I am a Prentiss, I was interested, and I was raised to be politically passive and to not ask questions.”

Emily tilted her head back into a natural position and tried to blink away the dark spots burnt into her vision from looking a little too closely at the sun. She eyed the garlic bread in her lap as if she wasn’t the one to put it there in her show of theatrics and was about to bring it to her mouth when Penelope did something no one had ever done before.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” Penelope said simply before bringing her wine to her lips.

Emily froze on the spot, teeth not quite clenching the food as she felt a strange stirring in her chest. Slowly and carefully, Emily pulled her hand back to her lap, forgetting its previous job of keeping her nourished as it began to twiddle anxiously with the fingers of its pair.

“How?”

The response was broken and small after nearly two minutes of silence between the women. Penelope frowned and quirked her head. Of all the responses she had anticipated, this had not been one of them. As she flicked through the Rolodex in her mind of Emily Prentiss fact-cards, almost none of them included keywords: doesn’t receive praise.

“Emily, you’re absolutely incredible, how could I not be?” Penelope said as she inched closer and placed a hand on Emily’s back, starting to rub circles into the fabric of her sweater that had been rolled up to her elbows.

“There is no reason to be proud of me, Pen,” Emily said, fighting against tears threatening to glisten in her eyes. “I still can’t believe Hotch didn’t just let me resign and move onto the next mediocre way to pass my time.”

“Emily Prentiss!” Penelope gasped, using a finger to tilt Emily’s head in her direction. “There are only about a million and one reasons to be proud of you!”

Though her face was still aimed towards Penelope, Emily looked down to the ground, her eyelashes nearly touching her cheeks.

“Emily, baby, look at me,” Penelope said with a gentle tone. Emily sniffled though no tears were anywhere close to falling from her eyes. She lifted her gaze and Penelope could see the pink irritation at the corners that was threatening to completely shatter the brave face that had been sewn into Emily’s skin for as long as she could remember.

“You, my love, are absolutely extraordinary. I know you can’t see it and I understand why, but you are such an asset to our team. On your very first day on the job, you were able to provide us with something no one else in the room was capable of. You’ve tracked down unsubs and even put yourself in danger while looking Strauss in the eye just to save a woman, not because it was your job. Hell, at the time it wasn’t your job, you were a civilian!”

Emily blushed and looked down, snorting a little at the comment about Strauss.

“And that’s just barely the icing on the cake, sweet girl,” Penelope continued.

Emily looked up, shock written all over her face.

“You slink around in the shadows, keeping to yourself and staying mostly quiet but I see you. And I always have. I notice when you beat Reid at chess or poker. I notice when you can make Derek admit that he’s wrong. I notice when you hold JJ’s hair back as she pukes in a bar bathroom or hug her until she stops crying over the latest boy who has broken her heart. You speak several languages, you’ve lived all over the globe, and you’ve managed to become one of the most beloved people in not only my life but in all of our lives.

“You, Emily Prentiss, are kind. You are spunky and so incredibly intelligent. And not to mention talented. I hear you when you sing in the shower and I have seen the art hanging in the foyer with a tiny little EP etched into the corner. You take absolutely no shit but you spend every waking moment making sure that everyone in your life feels seen and heard even though you won’t afford that luxury to yourself.

“There is a little kitty collar sitting in your closet that has been well worn and the name Ferguson etched into a golden heart and an address written in Italian. Every time we get home from a case, there has been a message on your machine from a sweet little boy and you always give him a call back but only when you think JJ and I aren’t listening. The diplomas framed in your office are from some of the nation’s top colleges. I don’t know your whole story, Emily, but I don’t need to. I already know that you’re ten times the woman anyone could ever dream of being.

“How can I be proud of you, Emily Prentiss? You really want to know how? I can be proud of you, my darling, sweet, beautiful girl because you are exceptional. And you always have been.”

As Penelope spoke, Emily’s face morphed from shock to disbelief to utter adoration. A lone tear tracked down her cheeks as she flung herself into Penelope’s arms so that she could feel on her skin the warmth that was blossoming in her chest at the words she had so desperately wanted to hear for her entire life. The embrace was long, longer than any hug Emily had ever given in her life.

When she pulled back, all Emily could do was smile down at Penelope who had at some point shifted Emily’s hips so that she could comfortably collapse into the blonde’s lap.

“No one has ever seen me before,” Emily said, an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability shocking both herself and Penelope.

“I have. And I always will, so long as you’ll let me. Even if I need to break out my flashlight and go crawling deep into a tunnel you’ve never let someone down before. I will always see everything you show to me and I promise I will always love every second of it.”

Emily, without hesitation, pressed her lips to Penelope’s in their very first kiss. It was fruity like wine but tinged with Italian spices from their dinner and the faint remnants of the vanilla beeswax lip balm that Emily carried with her everywhere she went. The women had conveyed their love before, back when they were just friends. And though it would be many months before either dared say the words out loud, in this first kiss alone they told each other everything they needed to know.

You’re worthy. You’re enough. I will never tire of you. I see you. I hear you. I want you. I love you.

hi friends :) i made a thing and wanted to share! i was gonna post it for emily’s birthday but i’m too antsy. i'm tagging some mutuals and people on my emily x reader taglist who might want to see it! and no, that isn't my legal signature lmao

all submissions must be a sapphic emily pairing. emily x reader fics will be given extra brownie points ;) but i will also accept penemily, temily, tenemily, jormily, etc. (to all of my non-sapphic emily shippers: i love you and i'm sorry but i want to highlight queer stories for my celebration. please feel free to use these prompts to post on her birthday!)

submissions should aim to be at least 500 words but less is okay

you don't have to use the same pairing for every submission, feel free to mix and match!

you must tag @sweetprentiss and use the hashtag emily prentiss birthday celebration 2021 🍭 on each fic. they will then be featured on a masterpost on October 12th and reblogged to my account :)

any NSFW prompt/fic CANNOT feature underage characters.

minors can participate in anything SFW as well :)

because i'm asking for fics that are a little longer, i'm giving a little under two months to work!

please signal boost! i want to have as many emily fics circulating for her birthday as possible :) all of the submissions from my 400 celebration will be posted on her birthday along with my contributions to the bingo!

even if you have never written before, never participated in a bingo before, you can still try :) i promise that anything you create will be wonderful!

pls don't let this flop

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tagging some people who might be interested: @ssa-sapphic @alexbllake @taralewiz @ssajemilyprentiss @temilyrights @jemilyisms @illbeyourgg @dalexandriag16 @agcntemily @5raysofsunshine @sapphicalexblake @morcias @gracib17 @girlsinoctober @there-must-be-a-lock @storiesofsvu @imaslutforemilyprentiss @emilyprentisslittlewhore @cmily

“You call your performance tonight being ‘the perfect young lady’? You’ve hobbling around like an 80-year-old and let’s not forget the fact that you look like a battered woman. God, Emily. Didn’t I raise you better than to show weakness? Every single person in that room tonight only saw you for what you are—a soft, fragile, pathetic little girl who obviously has no business even pretending to be worthy of their presence.”

Emily froze. In all of three seconds her face blanched, her chest clenched, her heart racing, and stomach churning. Elizabeth Prentiss was nothing if not a shark hunting for blood, biting the undeserving just to get a taste of that power. She knew all of the right buttons to press to make her daughter feel like a squished bug under her Louboutins. When Emily felt tears start behind her eyes, she pushed past her mother and out of the house, not willing to let her mother see her cry.

In the driver’s seat of her sedan, Emily backed out of her mother’s driveway as fast as she could manage, getting out onto the freeway that travels to her apartment and let herself just… drive. After not allowing the tears fall in the moment, Emily had effectively constipated the emotions she was having and now felt numb, felt absolutely nothing at all. The road became simple background noise, cars whizzing past unbeknownst to Emily as she went through the motions and her mind went blank, unable to form a coherent thought.

Emily parked her car and realized she couldn’t remember a single second of her drive as she climbed the steps up to her apartment. With her key scratching in the lock, she finally started to tune back into her senses and a soft melody was coming from the other side of her door, a song she certainly wouldn’t have picked from herself. As she stepped into the foyer, she could hear her girlfriend singing to her cat and the occasional sound of a spoon stirring a metal pot.

She loved Penelope dearly, but this was the last thing Emily wanted to come home to after being verbally assaulted by her mother.

“Emmy! Baby! Come look what I got Sergio to put on!” Penelope’s voice was sugary-sweet and dripping with excitement. With sunken shoulders and a slow gait, Emily entered the kitchen to see Sergio, her black cat, sitting on the kitchen counter with a mini cowboy hat on his head, happy as a clam. Any other day, Emily would coo at the feline and scratch his chin but today she just gave him a huff and dropped her things on the table.

Penelope’s back was turned to Emily as she stirred the pot of hot chocolate on the stove—Penelope didn’t do anything halfway.

“I hope the gala wasn’t too bad tonight, sugar plum. I’ve got some Halloween movies sitting on the coffee table for you to choose from and there is puppy chow, too. Oh, that’s just a sugary chocolaty chex mix treat that my friend from the Midwest showed me how to make last month when she came for a visit.”

Penelope continued to yammer on for a little while as Emily took her sore body to her bedroom to change into pajamas. Eventually, Penelope realized that she was alone in the kitchen and was alarmed, Emily never came home without at least a kiss on the cheek. So, being nosy as she was, Penny abandoned her hot chocolate and made her way to the bedroom to find Emily.

When she found her, Emily was slowly pulling pajamas onto her sore, bruised body. Her face was devoid of the makeup she had put on in efforts to cover the bruising and her hair was piled in a pun on top of her head.

“Oh, sweet Emmy. Let me help you with that.” Penelope reached out for Emily, who in turn stepped away.

“I’ve got it.”

Penelope frowned and stepped forward again. “Let me help you, Emmy. You’re in so much pain.”

“I said I’ve got it, Penelope,” Emily snarked in Penelope’s direction. It broke Penelope’s heart when Emily called her by her real name, she never called her by her real name.

“What is up with you tonight, Em? Was the gala that bad?” Penelope’s voice was gentle and smooth, caring and nurturing.

“I’m fine, Pen. Just leave it.”

Once more, Penelope stepped forward and grabbed Emily’s hand. “No, you’re not, sweet pea. Let me help.”

Emily dropped Penelope’s hand and seethed, “I said I’m fine Penelope. I don’t need you to baby me. I’m a strong, independent, grown woman and I can take care of myself.”

“Ah, so that is what this is about,” Penelope said as she backed away slightly, positioning herself to sit on the bed and watch Emily finish putting her pajamas on.

“What, what is about?” Emily said as she snaked one arm through her top, her words still laced with venom.

“You, this attitude problem of yours. You didn’t even greet me when you came in.”

Emily’s heart sank as guilt filled her chest, she didn’t even greet Penny?

“Ah, I’m sorry Pen. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know, pumpkin,” Penny responded. “So how about we try again? What happened at the gala tonight that has you so upset?”

Emily hesitated, looking between Penelope and the door after she finally finished dressing.

“Couch?”

“Sure, dumpling.”

Penelope grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her towards the living room, sitting first and pulling Emily into her lap. She resisted at first but after a few seconds snuggled into Penelope’s chest. Penelope turned the TV on and started The Corpse Bride, Emily’s favorite Halloween movie, and waited silently for Emily to open up. A strong hand soothed up and down Emily’s back and another scratched at her scalp, occasionally pulling her bangs away from her eyes.

Once Emily’s body had completely relaxed, she began to tell Penelope of what happened. Of the awful words her mother slung at her, of how much her body hurt at the function, of all the creepy old men that used any excuse to put their hands on her. Penelope’s heart sank for her girlfriend, knowing that she was used to this kind of treatment, which the thought alone made her shudder. No one should ever touch Emily like that, talk to Emily like that, or make the most amazing woman Penelope had ever met feel so terrible.

“Oh, my sweet darling girl. Your mom is so, so, so wrong,” Penelope started, peppering a few kisses to Emily’s hair. “You are the strongest, bravest, hardest working woman I have ever met. You are one of the best profilers on the team and also one of the kindest. You’re the only one that can ever finish a Reid fact before he can get to the punch line. You’re the only one that can calm a crying child and make them feel safe enough to tell us what happened. Every single thing you do is exceptional and your mother is an idiot for not being able to see that.”

Emily sighed into Penelope’s chest, not quite believing the words she was hearing. Penelope, the superior profiler of all things Emily Prentiss, knew immediately that she wasn’t getting through to the stubborn, traumatized woman. With a little bit of effort, she rearranged Emily and herself so that Emily could see her eyes.

“I’m serious, Emily. Being an FBI agent is nobler of an occupation than any of those socialites would ever dream of. You have the money and you use it for good, choosing not to hoard it all for yourself. You’ve taken the privilege you were born with and deconstructed it so that it is used to the advantage of those without, well, as much as you are able. The world expected you to be a stay-at-home mother with an absurdly rich and emotionally unavailable husband, raising your 2.5 kids and handed positions of power you were in no way qualified for. Instead, you made your way up the ranks of the FBI, making a name for yourself with your work ethic and your excellence. Would you have rather had that other life?”

Emily snorted. “No, absolutely not. The second you say husband, I’m out.”

Penelope laughed, though she knew Emily was trying to deflect with humor. “Then, my beautiful, wonderful, sexy girl, wouldn’t you say that your mom’s opinion of you is wrong? That what she has always expected of you isn’t even half of your reality?”

Emily sat in silence for a while before nodding her head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. That makes sense.”

While the hurt would be long to soothe completely, Penelope’s words were unraveling the knot of self-hatred that Elizabeth Prentiss had wound so tightly around her daughter’s heart. Knowing that more progress probably wouldn’t happen tonight, Penny reached for Emily again and pulled her in for a soft, loving kiss and then a snuggle just as the movie came to Emily’s favorite scene.

“It’s all going to be okay, Emmy.”

Emily pressed a kiss to Penelope’s cheek. “I know, Princess. I know.”

It was 90’s night at the team’s favorite bar and Penelope had convinced everyone that you needed a “team bonding night” to cure the funk you had been in—it was actually just karaoke night and she just knew that the team would never agree to come along if she didn't guilt them just a little. You were excited, though, 90’s night always meant that Emily would get up and sing a song after a few drinks. Her voice was beautiful and she always picked a song that was somehow reminiscent of how she was feeling. After a hard case, she often would sing an angry song or one with melancholic undertones. Just a few weeks ago, she sang “Losing My Religion” by REM and you wrapped her in a hug and wiped away a tear from her face—losing Matthew had definitely taken its toll on her and her walls weren’t as sturdy that night as they usually were.

Something had been going on between you and Emily for a while now, soft touches and lingering glances that never were acknowledged. For as long as you had been at the BAU, she had always made sure to include you in Girls' Night activities which eventually turned into late-night hangouts just the two of you. Your friendship had blossomed, soon sharing secrets like teenagers well into the night even when you shared hotel rooms on cases. After a while, she divulged that she hadn't felt worthy of a relationship in a long time, not since something that had happened shortly before she joined the BAU. You didn't press for specifics, knowing that Emily was a very private person, but you did remind her that she was worthy of love no matter what was haunting her past. What you didn't say was that you wanted to be the person to show Emily how to love again, but she didn’t need to know that, you didn’t need to risk your friendship over a silly little crush.

The bar was a little less crowded than you were used to, though it wasn't empty by any means. Derek had already started chatting up the ladies near the dance floor, certainly about to make a move. Hotch was sitting with Haley at a high-rise table and JJ was about to hustle some college boys out of their daddy's money at the dartboard. Penelope was sitting with you at a table off to the side and Emily had wandered off some minutes ago.

“What do you think Emily is going to sing tonight?” you asked Penelope, swirling your drink a little in your hands.

“I’m not sure… she’s been in a weird mood lately,” Penelope responded while searching the crowd for said woman.

Not even two seconds later, the lights dimmed on the stage, preparing for the next singer. You were ready to comment on how corny you thought it was when the bar would "change the ambiance" for each song when you saw Emily climb up onto the stage.

“She never goes this early,” you said as you set your drink on the table.

“She hasn’t even touched her drink yet,” Spencer noted from behind you as he came to sit at the table with you and Penelope.

Emily’s voice rang out near immediately after the first guitar chord, “I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again. I thought about it.”

The song was instantly familiar to you, an Alanis Morisette song that you had always adored, always thought was a sweet love song. Emily’s face was blushing red but her eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.

“You treat me like I’m a princess. I’m not used to liking that. You ask how my day was.” Emily’s voice was low and smooth, an alto timbre that vibrated straight to your core. You always loved when Emily sang, she truly could have made a career out of singing if she wanted to. Without flinching, your best friend continued on with the song, still looking at you, almost as if she was speaking the words of the song to you and only you, like you were the only person in the world. As the song swelled into its first chorus, Emily started to sway a little, releasing the tension in her shoulders.

“You’ve already won me over, in spite of me. And don’t be alarmed if I fall head over feet. And don’t be surprised if I love you for all that you are, I couldn’t help it, it’s all your fault.”

Emily’s eyes were radiating love, enough to cover the fear that had her hands trembling as she held her microphone. You couldn’t believe it, was it possible that Emily felt the same way you did?

“Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole. You’re so much braver than I gave you credit for. That’s not lip service.”

Tears watered in your eyes as you thought about everything you and Emily had shared, everything you had gone through since you met. Emily was so closed off and the remnants of being emotionally neglected radiated off of her being as you worked to chip away at her walls, to bring her just an ounce of the compassion and care she had been starved of her entire life.

The chorus came again, an ode to falling in love with someone unexpected, and continued into the third verse, a love letter to all the ways that her lover makes her feel cared for, a thank you note to the patience needed to meet all of her needs. She croons about her lover being her best friend, questioning what took her so long to relent and admit that she was in love. The words hit you square in the chest when Emily stood a little closer, gripped the microphone a little tighter, and sang,

“I’ve never felt this healthy before. I’ve never wanted something rational. I am aware now. I am aware now.”

The chorus came once more and you knew, you knew in your heart and your soul the message Emily was sending. As she sang the same confession over and over, you stood from your seat and walked towards the stage. Emily held her hand out for you to grab, pulling you close and dancing with you as she riffed the ending vocalizations. As the song drew to a close, she wrapped her free hand around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer as she sang in a quiet piano, "I couldn't help it, it's all your fault."

Before anyone could react, you reached up on your toes and pressed a kiss to Emily’s lips, not willing to wait for a second longer to know the taste of her berry-red lips. Those in the bar that were paying attention began to clap and those that were not stopped to take a peek at what was happening on the stage. Emily was surprised by your move but quickly recovered and kissed you back. It was short and chaste but you could feel the emotions pouring from her into you.

“I didn’t know you felt this way, too,” you said breathlessly. Emily tangled her fingers with yours, ready to get off the stage and out of the spotlight. As she pulled you into the familiar darkness of the rest of the bar, she pushed her free hand through your hair and kissed you again, just as softly, just as sweetly.

"I should have said something sooner, I'm sorry for all of the time we have wasted." Emily looked at her feet as she spoke as if she was embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter," you said, trailing your fingers up her neck, pinching her chin, and lifting it so she would look at you again. "All that matters is that we are here now. We have plenty of time to figure the rest out."

Emily beamed a smile in your direction but before she could kiss you for a third time, Derek clapped you both on the shoulder and congratulated “you two idiots” for getting your heads out of your asses and doing something about the crush that was “filling the BAU with sexual tension thicker than a high school drama room.” All three of you laughed but you never took your eyes off Emily, her doing the same. The world seemed to spin to a stop and the only thing that mattered was the way that Emily’s eyes sparkled a chocolate brown and the way her hair shined in the dim light of the team’s favorite bar.

Yeah, this was it. Penny was right. This was exactly what the team needed to set everything right again. Everything was perfect.