They keep it professional. So professional.

Even after the game, after all the handshakes and good game exchanges and team-huddles, they don’t really interact. Emily keeps to Alyssa and Mal, talking and joking and only occasionally acknowledging Sam’s existence through a laugh or a quick glance, and Sam tries not to let it bother her. This is what they both decided on, after all. Polite, but not overly friendly, as Emily so swiftly had put it. 

Polite, but not overly friendly. 

Then, in bed with Emily’s arms wrapped around her, it had been an easy thing to agree to, but now, when Emily won’t so much as look at her…

It feels wrong in a way that makes Sam’s skin crawl. She knows it’s all pretend, knows that the second they’re alone she’ll have her Emily back again. She just wishes Emily wasn’t this good at pretending.

She takes a deep breath and turns away, biting her inner lip. Rose is beside her explaining something about the tactics of the game, and Sam nods along despite not being sure exactly what point she’s making. Her focus is still on Emily, who in the corner of her eye is making big gestures, bringing out a laugh of Alyssa, but Sam won’t—

“You should go,” Rose suddenly says, interrupting her own tangent. She leans in closer, arms crossed, and she’s looking pointedly at Sam.

“Huh?”

“Go and she,” she nods towards the tunnel and then back at Emily, “will follow you.”

Rose says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Sam feels like she’s been read through and through. She glances at Emily, who’s still in the midst of a conversation. “But she’s not—“

“Go,” Rose repeats. “Just..trust me.” 

She adds a reassuring smile, and Sam nods. Thank you.

She says a quick goodbye to the group, and while Emily doesn’t do more than nod towards her, Sam swears she feels Emily’s eyes on her the entire way to the tunnel. It might be imagination — that’s what she tells herself — but when there’s a second pair of cleats following her over the concrete once she’s inside, she knows she’s not imagining anything anymore.

She’s almost by the door to the locker room, but she slows down and turns around.

Emily is in front of her, running her fingers over her tied-up hair while she’s walking towards Sam. Sam smiles. “Took long you long enough,” she says, trying not to sound too eager.

It’s hard, because Emily is finally, finally, looking at her. She’s looking at her, and she’s smiling big, and the only feeling Sam can ever remember feeling is pure joy.

Emily pulls her in to a tight hug. “Sorry,” she says softly, the words muffled into Sam’s jersey. “I’ve missed you,”

That’s the Emily she knows.

Sam leans back and traces a finger alongside Emily’s face, brushing away the blonde baby hairs that has fallen out of her bun. “I know,” she says. “I’ve missed you too.”

The sound of footsteps and multiple voices suddenly approaches, and Sam takes a quick step back. Emily waves to someone over her shoulder, and she turns around to see two of the younger girls on Gotham. When Sam catches their eyes, they wave towards her too, before the taller blonde says something inaudible to her friend and they both burst into laughter.

As soon as they’re out of the corridor, Sam turns back to Emily, who looks a little flushed.

“Ryan and Lily,” Emily explains. “They’re absolute terrors in regards to—“ she motions with her hand between her and Sam “—this, but other than that, they’re pretty cool. Don’t tell them I said that though.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Sam says with a playful smile. “Unless they really, really, want me to.”

Emily gives her shoulder a light shove. “Hey, not fair. You don’t even know them.”

“No, I know,” Sam says. “Kinda would like to though. They seem fun.”

Emily nods. “They are. I think you would get along.”

Sam’s heart flutters at the thought of not only being with Emily, but hanging out with her friends, hopefully being liked by them—

“That sounds great,” she says. “Also, you’re still coming home with me, right?”

The question hangs in the air for a second as Sam realizes how it sounded, but then Emily, blushing profusely, nods. “If you want me there,” she says, an eyebrow raised.

Sam rolls her eyes, laughing. “Of course I want you, dumbass.”

She scans the corridor again — emtpy — and leans in, placing a quick kiss on Emily’s lips. “Be ready in twenty.”

When Sam leaves her locker room, exactly seventeen minutes later, Emily is already waiting for her by the door. “Ready?” she asks and winks at Sam, making a suggestive face.