#fluffyjulydayfive

Emily Prentiss had a rock collection.

At least, that was what JJ said.

You found this out on a Tuesday afternoon in the bullpen, when the coffee machine was making some odd, vaguely threatening noise that suggested it had completely given up on life and there had been a complete (suspicious) lull in cases.

"Wait," you said, glancing up from your paperwork. "Emily has a rock collection?"

Emily didn’t look up. "Don’t start."

"Oh, no, I’m starting." You pushed your chair back, grinning. "That’s actually pretty cool."

"It’s not cool."

"It’s extremely cool, I didn't know that about you."

Morgan’s grin widened, eyes glancing between the two of you, "Hold up." He held up a hand and raised a brow at you, "You’re thinking JJ meant music, didn’t you?"

You paused, a little perplexed. JJ laughed into her coffee and Emily finally looked up, one eyebrow raised.

You blinked. "Oh, so… not rock music?"

"As in rocks," Reid supplied helpfully, appearing from nowhere with a folder in his hands. "Minerals, stones, geological samples. Though technically, depending on the composition-"

"Thank you, Spence," Emily cut in, her cheeks a tad rosy.

You stared at her. "You collect actual rocks?"

Emily’s mouth twitched and she shrugged, aiming for nonchalant, "From places I’ve been."

"Oh my god."

"Don’t."

"How did I not know this about you? We’ve been dating a year."

"I work with all of you. I had to keep some mystery." She buried her head in paperwork, trying to move the conversation on but you were hooked in now.

You crossed the bullpen and perched on the edge of her desk, unable to stop smiling. "So when JJ said you had a rare rock collection, I pictured vinyl. Maybe some Springsteen. Bowie. You know. Cool mysterious spy woman music."

Emily leaned back in her chair, pushing her paperwork away with a little sigh, "And instead?"

"Pebbles." You grinned.

Her eyes narrowed, but she was smiling now too. "They are not pebbles."

Morgan coughed. "Some of them are definitely pebbles."

"Some of them are from historically significant locations, actually."

You placed a hand dramatically over your heart. "Emily Prentiss, international woman of mystery, collector of tiny driveway gravel. Wow."

"That’s it," She grabbed a pen and pointed it at you. "You’re uninvited from ever seeing them."

You gasped. "I was invited?"

"Not anymore."

"Devastating."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Later, when you found yourself in her apartment after dinner, shoes kicked off by the door and Emily moving comfortably around the kitchen in a soft sweater, you remembered.

"So," you said casually, leaning against the counter. "Where do you keep the famous rocks?"

Emily froze for half a second.

You grinned. "Oh, come on." She sighed and placed the pan of containing your dinner back on the stovetop, her shoulder brushing yours.

"You’re going to make fun of me."

"Absolutely." You turned to stand behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder.

"Then no."

You pouted, "What if I make fun of you lovingly?"

"That doesn’t help your case."

You pressed a kiss to her shoulder and lowered your voice with a smile, "I promise to be respectful to your beloved gravel."

Emily sighed, but she was already smiling. "You’re lucky I love you."

"I know," She turned in your arms, kissed your cheek, then took your hand and led you down the hall.

The collection was not what you expected. You had been picturing a shoebox, maybe a small box. Something half forgotten and gathering dust on a shelf.

Instead, Emily had an entire narrow bookcase in her study dedicated to them. Small stones, crystals, chunks of mineral, smooth river rocks, and odd little fragments sat arranged in trays and glass boxes. Each had a tiny handwritten label beneath it: where it was from, when she got it, sometimes a note.

You eyes skimmed over the names, written in her blocky handwriting. Paris. Rome. Cairo. Istanbul. A black volcanic stone from Iceland. A piece of pink granite from Maine. A smooth green-grey pebble from beside a lake in Scotland.

You stepped closer, teasing smile softening, "Emily," you said quietly. "These are beautiful."

She shrugged, suddenly shy in a way you rarely got to see. "They’re just… places. Moments."

You picked up one from a small velvet square after glancing at her for permission. She'd nodded and you made sure you were gentle, soft. It was small and dark, threaded with silver, "Where’s this from?"

"Interpol case. Before the BAU." She leaned against the desk. "I was exhausted, freezing, and very sure I’d made the wrong choice leaving everything I knew. I found that near the station."

"And kept it?"

"It felt like proof I’d been there." Her voice went quieter. "You know? Proof that I had survived it."

Your throat tightened a little and you set the stone back with the greatest care, "I’m sorry," you said.

Emily glanced at you. "For what? The teasing? You don't need to be-"

"No. I’m still going to tease you," She laughed. "But I get it," you said. "It’s not about rocks."

"No," she said. "Not really."

You looked over the shelves again. Little pieces of the world, all carried home by her careful hands. Evidence that Emily Prentiss had been everywhere, had survived more than most people knew, and had still stopped to pocket something small and ordinary because it mattered.

You slipped your hand into hers, "I really love it," you said.

She looked at you then, really looked, like she was trying to decide whether to believe you.

So you squeezed her hand, "I do mean it." She kissed your forehead, pulling you back to the kitchen and shutting the office door.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The next week, you became slightly obsessed.

Not in an obvious way. You were subtle... mostly.

You researched gemstones during lunch breaks. You asked Reid about minerals, which turned out to be a mistake because forty minutes later you knew more about quartz formation than any reasonable person needed to know. You browsed antique shops, museum gift stores, online auctions, and one extremely intense geology forum where everyone argued about authenticity so much it totally frightened you.

You didn’t want to get Emily something shiny just because it was pretty. Emily didn’t collect rocks for decoration. She collected them for their meaning.

So when the team flew to Colorado for a case and had one spare hour before the jet home, you slipped away to a tiny local shop tucked between a diner and a bookstore. Inside, an elderly man showed you a piece of rhodochrosite, rose-pink and banded with white, polished just enough to glow but still rough at the edges.

"It’s local," he told you. "Colorado mineral. Good choice for someone you love."

You nearly dropped it, "I didn’t say-" He gave you a look that suggested you were not the first person to be wildly obvious in his store. Safe to say, you bought it immediately.

On the jet, you tucked the little wrapped box into your bag and tried to act normal. Unfortunately for you, you worked with profilers.

Morgan noticed first, "What’s in the bag?"

"Nothing."

"That was... suspiciously fast." He hovered over you, leaning on the back of your armchair.

"It’s a bag, Morgan."

"Yeah, a bag that you’ve checked six times."

Garcia, on the laptop screen from Quantico, gasped. "Is it a present? Is it a secret present? Is it shiny? For me?"

You glanced at Emily, who was asleep against the window, arms folded, dark hair falling across her cheek.

"It’s not shiny," you whispered.

Reid looked up. "Many rocks can actually be shiny depending on their mineral structure and how polished they are."

Morgan’s eyes lit up. "A rock?"

You glared at him, shushing him, "Keep your voice down."

"You got Emily a rock?" JJ joined the conversation, putting her book down and smiling across the aisle at you.

Garcia pressed both hands to her cheeks. "Oh my god. You got her a rock."

Morgan leaned in again, grin wicked. "So… this is code an engagement ring, right? We're all hearing that?"

You nearly choked. "No. No, it's not like that."

"Because people call those a rock."

"No."

"And I just thought how you've been together a while now and-!

"Derek."

"I’m just saying, if you’re proposing to Prentiss with a rock rock, that is weirdly on brand."

Across from you, Emily shifted in her sleep. Everyone froze until she settled again.

You pointed at Morgan and tried to whisper, threateningly, "I will end you."

Garcia whispered, "I want to be maid of honor."

"It’s not an engagement rock." You protested once more.

JJ’s smile turned gentle. "It's still a love rock, of sorts."

You looked down at your bag, embarrassed by how warm your face felt. "Maybe."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, back in D.C., Emily came over to your place after you both showered off the exhaustion of the case. She looked tired but content, curled on your couch in one of your old shirts, socked feet tucked under your thigh.

You could have waited for a better moment but, really, you didn’t want to.

"I got you something," you said, clearing your throat.

Emily turned her head. "You did?"

"Don’t make it weird though."

Her eyebrows lifted. "That guarantees I will make it weird."

You reached for the small box on the coffee table and handed it to her. She studied you for a second before opening it. And for once, Emily Prentiss had no immediate comeback. She lifted the stone carefully from the tissue paper, thumb brushing over the pink bands.

"It’s... rhodochrosite," you said, suddenly nervous and trying not to trip over the name of the damn thing. "It's from Colorado. The guy at the shop said it was local, and I know your collection is mostly places and memories, so I thought maybe this could be from this case. Or not the case, exactly, because that was awful, but from coming home. From the after."

Emily didn’t say anything.

You rushed on. "And before you ask, yes, Morgan made an engagement ring joke. Several, actually. Garcia may already be planning a wedding. I told them it was not that kind of rock. Not yet, anyway."

Emily’s mouth curved, but her eyes were bright.

You swallowed. "And if you hate it then it can just be a paperweight."

She looked down at the stone again, cradled in her palm like something fragile, "I don’t hate it," she said softly.

"Good."

"I love it." Your chest loosened. Emily leaned forward and kissed you. It was slow, gentle, and so full of tenderness that you forgot whatever self-deprecating joke you had been preparing.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours.

"You got me a rock," she murmured.

"I did."

"A love rock."

You groaned. "JJ said that."

"JJ is right."

"Please don’t encourage her."

Emily laughed, then looked down at the stone again, "No one’s ever done that for me."

"What, bought you a rock?"

"No," She traced the rough edge with her thumb. "No one's paid attention like that."

The words hit you harder than you expected, you reached for her hand and brushed your thumb over her knuckles, "Em."

She shook her head, smiling like she didn’t want to make it too serious. "I’m okay."

"I know."

But you also knew what she meant. Emily had spent so much of her life being useful, composed, unreadable. People saw the competence first. The sharp wit or the clean shot. The woman who could walk into danger with her chin up and her fear hidden so deep even she sometimes forgot it existed.

You loved those things about her but you loved this too... Emily tucked away on your couch, holding a pink rock like it was her own little treasure.

"I like paying attention to you," you said and you watched as her expression softened. You hesitated, then added, "You know, I’ll always be here for you. Whatever happens, I’ll never leave you, I can promise you that."

Emily went very still.

For one awful second, you worried you had said too much. You were too direct, it was all too soon. The words had slipped out because they were true, because they had been living in the back of your thoat for weeks, maybe months.

Then Emily set the stone carefully back in its box and reached for you. She pulled you into her arms with surprising strength, one hand at the back of your neck, the other wrapped tight around your waist.

You held her just as tightly.

"I mean it," you whispered against her shoulder. "I know people have. I know sometimes life does things we don’t get a say in. But I’m here. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you."

Emily’s breath trembled and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. "You can’t promise nothing bad will happen."

"No," you said. "But I can promise I won’t walk away just because loving you gets hard."

She held you tighter and for a while, neither of you moved.

The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the heater and the distant sound of traffic below. The little pink stone sat on the table, catching the lamplight.

Finally, Emily pulled back enough to look at you.

"I really love you."

You smiled and shook your head, "You might not for long because I know mineral facts now."

"Oh no."

"Like did you know that quartz-" She kissed you before you could finish and you just smiled against her mouth.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Emily brought the rhodochrosite to work. She had tried to do it subtly at first, but Garcia spotted the box in approximately three seconds.

"Is that the rock?" she shrieked. Every head in the bullpen turned and Emily stopped walking.

You closed your eyes. "Penelope."

Morgan appeared from around the corner as if he had been summoned. "Prentiss, let’s see the engagement rock."

"It is not an engagement rock," Emily said, grinning from ear to ear.

"But it is from your lover," Garcia said, clasping her hands. "Which makes it romantic."

Reid nodded, "Technically, I would say that geology can be very romantic. The study of rocks often involves deep time, pressure, transformation-"

Morgan pointed at him. "See? Even the kid himself says it’s love."

Emily reached over and squeezed your hand lightly, once. She opened the box and showed them the stone. For once, everyone quieted.

Garcia’s expression melted, "Oh. It’s beautiful."

"Yeah," Morgan said, softer now. "It is."

Emily glanced at you. You gave her a small smile.

She looked back at the team, her usual smirk returning. "And if any of you call it a pebble, I’ll make sure your paperwork disappears for a month."

Morgan held up both hands. "That was your girlfriend. I personally wouldn’t dream of it." You stuck your tongue out at him from behind Emily, whilst she just nodded once.

"Good."

She set the box on her desk, right beside her monitor and, all day, you caught her looking at it. You couldn't help but notice that every time she did, she looked at you afterward. As though she was checking that you were still there.

Every time, you were.