Chapter Text
The sound of an incoming message breaks the silence that envelops my office. The closed door and the almost completely drawn curtains shut out the noise of the bullpen, with the constant ringing of phones, the footsteps of people moving from one desk to another, the sound of keyboards.
Practically the soundtrack of my life since…well, forever. Or, at least, that’s what it feels. A lifetime spent doing this job. Living between these four walls.
The low buzzing of the heat conditioner is the only sound that lulls me.
I look up from the report I'm reviewing, sighing, and for a moment my eyes blurs. I realize I'm more tired than I imagined, and I welcome the interruption the message has brought.
I need a fucking break from all those papers. Letter and numbers start to mingle into something almost unintelligible.
I click on the notification.
It's a message from Garcia in the group chat she created years ago with just the BAU’s ladies (and their partners, where the latters are women). It’s obviously called: Garcia's Glitter Gang. The name is accompanied by a series of inexplicable emojis: 💅🪩💥🦄🐱🍷, which changes through time, according to Garcia’s mood.
The message is a full-on call to arms, the kind you can’t argue with:
Okay, my glorious goddesses of justice - the week is OVER! Which means it’s time to: 🍕JUNK FOOD, 🍹ALCOHOL, and 💅 PURE, UNADULTERATED SELF-CARE.
📍 My apartment.
🕗 8 PM.
💋 Dress code: whatever says “I’ve survived another week of serial killers and I deserve cheese fries.”Just one sacred rule: NO. WORK. TALK.
Text back “I’m in, goddess” to RSVP
The message is so unmistakably Garcia that I feel the first smile of the day creep across my tired face at the sight of all those emojis and at Garcia’s antics.
I get up and stretch, every muscle in my body is screaming. I don't know how many hours I've been barricaded here trying to catch up on paperwork.
A constant in recent months.
I take a few steps around the office, fully aware that downstairs they will see my silhouette pacing back and forth like a lunatic yet again.
A lunatic who, lately, barely ever leaves the fortress she’s so carefully built inside her office.
My mind goes straight to JJ.
I walk over to the window and pull the blinds apart just enough to see the bullpen below.
JJ is sitting at her desk, her hair pulled back into a slightly messy ponytail, the sleeves rolled up on her toned arms. She’s laughing at something Luke just said, and even though I can’t actually hear it, her laugh reverberates through me.
It’s like a song whose lyrics I know by heart.
My lips slightly parted at the sight of her. She’s so beautiful it hurts.
I wanna be the person who makes her laugh so hard. Sometimes I have the privilege and every time something flutters low in my stomach at the sound.
JJ meets my gaze across the bullpen - like if she’s sensing that I’m watching her like a piece of art in a museum - and her face smoothes from the laugh to a smile so sweet and tender that for a moment it's like there's nothing else around us. I feel her so close even if there’s an entire floor between us.
I feel my face blush and somehow I know that she noticed, and yet I don’t retreat to the safety of my office.
She watches me with a slightly smug face that makes my face burn a little more. A face that says: I'm aware of what I'm doing to you. And I’m liking it.
My goddess, Prentiss, what are you, fifteen?
Sure feels like it.
I feel a little dizzy and I wallow in this feeling. Makes me feel alive more than anything.
A movement tears me apart from my daydreaming. Next thing I know, JJ is showing her phone to me with a silent question. She's asking me if I'm going to Garcia.
I nod a couple of times and her face lits up again with a satisfied smile, before mouthing 'good'.
I hear my phone vibrating again and I realize I completely zoned out watching JJ just be JJ in that candid and pure way that drives me crazy. I shake my head and I shift my gaze to my phone.
I scroll to read the others' replies:
Tara Lewis: I’m in, goddess, DUH 😏🍷
Jay: I’m 100% in, goddess 💛
Rebecca Wilson: I’m in, goddess, YAY 🙌
All that's missing is my answer, and before I can decide between yes and no, Garcia adds:
@Emily Prentiss you better come or I’ll hack your phone. I don’t care that you’re the Chief now 🔥📱💥
I roll my eyes and shake my head. I’m the Chief, I shouldn’t allow this kind of behavior in the office, but I’m so tired of trying to be serious all the time, it’s Friday and I’m allowed to have fun. With my friends. Who happen to also be my subordinates.
Whatever.
I retreat to my desk, letting myself fall heavily into the chair, which shifts slightly sideways under my weight. I run a hand through my hair, which strangely isn't tied in my usual tight, severe ponytail, and sigh.
I came back from London for two reasons. The official one was because I wanted this job. Hotch choosing me to be Unit Chief was the crowning achievement of my career.
But there was also an unofficial reason, which is locked in my heart, buried under years of silent yearning. For years I’ve let myself visit it only when my guard is down. In the darkness of restless nights. In the silence of my empty house. In the sadness of my too many uneventful weekends.
But lately it’s all I can think about.
I came back for her. For Jennifer.
Just to be... near her. After all this time I knew that I couldn't have anything more than a deep friendship.
But this made me double guess every decision I took when I was about to give an order to the team. Was I taking a decision that would've put JJ in danger? Or was I taking a decision that, in order to keep JJ safe, would've put someone else in danger? Someone on my team. Of my chosen family. Didn't I trust JJ with her work? I did. But it was excruciatingly painful watching her going into the field every fucking time.
Can you be friends with your colleagues? Yes. I've been friends with them since my start at the BAU. Well, not properly from the very start…
But what happens when your colleagues become your subordinates?
Can you be friends with your subordinates?
Hotch wasn't our friend. Not in the canonical way. He was always there for us, but he was also distant. Detached, at least on the surface. I never fully understood him when he was our boss. But now I do. I understand how difficult it must've been for him. Being here without being here too much.
So I tried to be like him. Like Hotch. Because he was a good boss. A great leader. And I want to be that, too.
I pulled over. I put distance between me and JJ because I couldn't let my feelings take over me and risk her life.
I locked Emily inside my heart and I let Chief Prentiss take charge of me on the exterior.
But in the moments of calmness, where my armor is dismantled, I let myself wonder: what would've been my life if I had the courage to tell JJ the truth all those years ago?
That’s why I’m torn about tonight, of course I am. Even if I’ve already said yes to JJ. Girls’ nights have been one of the few things that kept me afloat in this job for all those years. It’s during those evenings, filled with talking, drinking and laughing, that I learned how to feel like I belonged with this wonderfully chaotic group of misfits I call family.
But now that I'm the boss, it's hard to go back to the Emily I was before, when I was just an agent. Since I took the job I've forced myself to maintain such clear boundaries that I realize I've lost the intimacy and familiarity I had with the team before I was the boss.
I lost the thing that made this job bearable. The bonding.
And over time, I realized how much I'd sacrificed, once again, to get to where I am. I was finally in the role I felt I deserved, the one I'd worked so hard for, but I was more alone than ever.
And then Will died. And everything changed for me too.
I didn't hesitate to step up, becoming JJ's shoulder to cry on, the person she could count on to pick up Michael and Henry from school or practice, a companion during long, sleepless nights. Always a phone call away, ready to jump in the car at odd hours and show up at JJ's door with a bottle of wine and a bag of Cheetos.
The distance I'd put between me and JJ narrowed further and further, until it finally disappeared. And with it, the distance between me and the rest of the team.
I stopped being just Chief Prentiss and went back to being Emily, again. And when it finally happened, a sense of immense relief took me over.
Despite struggling being the Chief and the friend at the same time, I think it’s healthier if I continue to find a way to make things work this way. After all, in the quiet of the evening, outside of work, I'm always with JJ. And I think that's been the only thing that's kept me from going crazy all this time.
I think about JJ earlier, her smile, her smug face, her silent question. Something deep - almost ancient - stirs in my chest. I'm suddenly very excited for the upcoming evening, every doubt is forgotten.
I look at my phone screen again, at Garcia's emoji-filled message, at the enthusiastic responses from my friends. A pang of something undefined creeps into my stomach when I think of JJ, but this time I don’t push it aside. I dive into it, letting me submerge by the feeling.
With my thumb I hesitate for another moment before answering:
Count me in, goddess — I’ll bring the wine.
Because, let’s face it, I can’t resist a girl’s night.
Garcia’s answer it’s immediate:
YESSS my radiant angels!! 💖 I’ll stock up on glitter, guac, and enough sugar to make us see through time 🍭✨🌈
I attack the stack of paper on my desk with renewed energy. I work for another hour before going to buy the wine and two packs of JJ's favourite beer. Then I head home and get dressed, putting an excessive amount of effort choosing my outfit for just a night at home with my friends.