Defining Life, for xiotonks, Emily-centric, FRT
Title: Defining Life
Author: fabrisse
Recipient: xiotonks
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1227
Warnings/spoilers: None
Summary/prompt: After a case, Emily starts to examine her life.
A/N: I worked from the prompt: 4."To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." [Oscar Wilde]
The plane ride home had been quiet. She'd shot a man, and she wasn't unhappy or surprised or guilty or anything really about it. Maybe it would come later.
Her car had been in the shop when they caught the case, so when they landed, well after midnight, Reid offered to drive her home. Emily wasn't entirely certain she trusted his ancient car, but she was certainly glad of the ride.
They drove up the George Washington Parkway with glittering stars shining coldly overhead and soft jazz on the radio.
On one of the longer, darker parts of the road, Reid said, "How are you handling the shooting?"
"Well, that's abrupt."
"I don't know whether you've killed anyone before."
"No, but we're always prepared, right? Any time we pull our weapons, we know we might need to use it."
Reid glanced at her quickly, then back at the road. "I'm not investigating and I didn't mean to pry."
"It's not prying. What about you? Any regrets on pulling the trigger?"
"A few, but I know, logically, that I had no choice at all. On the other hand, I'm not a lapsed Catholic."
Emily shook her head. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Does it have anything to do with why you've been unhappy lately?"
Emily stared at him. "Who said I've been unhappy?"
"When you first joined the team, you were so enthusiastic. We even geeked about chocolate and serotonin."
"And peas," Emily said.
"Those moments haven't been there as much. We're all down. My injury took more out of me than I thought it would. Hotch has lost so much. We've all lost JJ as a daily presence. But, of us all, you're the one smiling the least. Or, no, it's more that I've only seen your social smile, the one I suspect comes from being a State Department kid, rather than the slightly goofy smile that I think of as Emily's."
"That sounds like a pass."
"It isn't."
Emily said, "Why not?"
"Because you're unhappy. And because I'm pretty sure I'm not what you want."
"Well, Mick Rawson is still calling. I suppose I can see if he's as good as he says he is."
Reid paused for a moment. "Or you could call Jordan Todd."
Emily looked at him. "What makes you think I would want to call Jordan Todd?" she asked quietly.
"I'm not Morgan. I don't think sex is the be-all end-all of everything. I do think that being around Jordan was the last time I saw you light up. Even as bad as things got for her when she was with us, the two of you looked genuinely happy every time you talked to each other. You should be happy. Or joyful or ecstatic. I'd settle for seeing you content."
Reid turned onto Key Bridge and Emily fell silent looking at the monuments as they crossed the Potomac. He drove her to her door without another word.
Emily got out, and then leaned back in. "Thank you for noticing. I don't know that anything will change, but thank you."
"Oscar Wilde once said, 'To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people only exist.' You have way too much life just to exist."
Emily nodded and shut the car door. Before she went to bed, she sorted her go bag and put in the first load of laundry. Her home answering machine had no messages. Her cell phone was only for office use. She went to bed thinking about what Reid had said.
***
Over the next couple of weeks, she found herself examining her life. One night she sat down and made a list of the things she loved to do and then put the date she'd last done it and who she'd done it with.
She hadn't been to see a play in nearly three years. The new Harry Potter was coming out, and it hit her that the last movie she'd seen had been the previous Harry Potter with JJ and Reid of all people. She was a member of the Smithsonian, but hadn't taken a single class or been to a single special event. Emily hadn't even gone to practice her emergency driving skills in nearly six months and she fucking loved keeping her certificate in that current.
Then there were the people. She'd gone shopping with JJ and Garcia, but, if she thought about it, shopping wasn't really something she enjoyed. The company had been good, but it was the company of people she saw every day. Her rolodex was thick with Christmas card friends, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to any of them.
The item that hurt the most, though, was realizing she hadn't left the country -- well, that case in Canada -- since she helped Gideon at Guantanamo. Before that, it had been close to two years since Emily packed a travel bag and just went somewhere. Hell, she was nearly forty and she still hadn't danced a tango in Buenos Aires or been to Carnival in Rio -- though she'd been to both New Orleans and Venice for Carnival in the past.
Travel, learning new cultures, practicing her language skills or learning a new one, had been the one great joy in her life. It was how she renewed herself when the day to day grind of FBI work became too much.
Now, Emily Prentiss was on the elite team of the most prestigious unit in the FBI, and the mill of serial killers was grinding her down and she had no outlets.
Damn.
***
Calling Mick Rawson had been a mistake. She hadn't repeated it.
***
In December, she went to the National Zoo to see the lights there. It had been years since she'd done something like that. She found herself talking to people around her and actually ended up going to a café for a drink with some grad students from GW.
When she was called into the office mid-afternoon on Sunday, she noticed Reid looking at her with a faint smile.
"You look relaxed," he said.
"Well, a serial rapist in Lima, Ohio is probably going to bring back some of the tension."
Reid nodded, and they both looked toward Garcia as she began their briefing.
***
By the time the big snowstorm hit in January, Emily was feeling more upbeat about her personal life. She'd gotten back in touch with one of her college roommates and the bond had come back full force.
There were so many memories now. Times shared with others, which, unless they were teammates, Emily just didn't get any more. Kisses and touches that she missed with a deep ache.
Emily was more relaxed now. She scheduled regular massages. She went to see shows. She kept in touch with friends old and new. And, while Reid might not think sex was that important, she realized that was also part of the life she needed to live now.
The snow fell thickly. The Federal government had shut down, though the team was still on call. With a day at home and nothing to do but laundry (okay, there were some DVDs she could watch), Emily took a deep breath and dialed a number.
It was picked up on the second ring.
Emily said, "Hi, Jordan. How've you been?"
Author: fabrisse
Recipient: xiotonks
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1227
Warnings/spoilers: None
Summary/prompt: After a case, Emily starts to examine her life.
A/N: I worked from the prompt: 4."To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." [Oscar Wilde]
The plane ride home had been quiet. She'd shot a man, and she wasn't unhappy or surprised or guilty or anything really about it. Maybe it would come later.
Her car had been in the shop when they caught the case, so when they landed, well after midnight, Reid offered to drive her home. Emily wasn't entirely certain she trusted his ancient car, but she was certainly glad of the ride.
They drove up the George Washington Parkway with glittering stars shining coldly overhead and soft jazz on the radio.
On one of the longer, darker parts of the road, Reid said, "How are you handling the shooting?"
"Well, that's abrupt."
"I don't know whether you've killed anyone before."
"No, but we're always prepared, right? Any time we pull our weapons, we know we might need to use it."
Reid glanced at her quickly, then back at the road. "I'm not investigating and I didn't mean to pry."
"It's not prying. What about you? Any regrets on pulling the trigger?"
"A few, but I know, logically, that I had no choice at all. On the other hand, I'm not a lapsed Catholic."
Emily shook her head. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Does it have anything to do with why you've been unhappy lately?"
Emily stared at him. "Who said I've been unhappy?"
"When you first joined the team, you were so enthusiastic. We even geeked about chocolate and serotonin."
"And peas," Emily said.
"Those moments haven't been there as much. We're all down. My injury took more out of me than I thought it would. Hotch has lost so much. We've all lost JJ as a daily presence. But, of us all, you're the one smiling the least. Or, no, it's more that I've only seen your social smile, the one I suspect comes from being a State Department kid, rather than the slightly goofy smile that I think of as Emily's."
"That sounds like a pass."
"It isn't."
Emily said, "Why not?"
"Because you're unhappy. And because I'm pretty sure I'm not what you want."
"Well, Mick Rawson is still calling. I suppose I can see if he's as good as he says he is."
Reid paused for a moment. "Or you could call Jordan Todd."
Emily looked at him. "What makes you think I would want to call Jordan Todd?" she asked quietly.
"I'm not Morgan. I don't think sex is the be-all end-all of everything. I do think that being around Jordan was the last time I saw you light up. Even as bad as things got for her when she was with us, the two of you looked genuinely happy every time you talked to each other. You should be happy. Or joyful or ecstatic. I'd settle for seeing you content."
Reid turned onto Key Bridge and Emily fell silent looking at the monuments as they crossed the Potomac. He drove her to her door without another word.
Emily got out, and then leaned back in. "Thank you for noticing. I don't know that anything will change, but thank you."
"Oscar Wilde once said, 'To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people only exist.' You have way too much life just to exist."
Emily nodded and shut the car door. Before she went to bed, she sorted her go bag and put in the first load of laundry. Her home answering machine had no messages. Her cell phone was only for office use. She went to bed thinking about what Reid had said.
***
Over the next couple of weeks, she found herself examining her life. One night she sat down and made a list of the things she loved to do and then put the date she'd last done it and who she'd done it with.
She hadn't been to see a play in nearly three years. The new Harry Potter was coming out, and it hit her that the last movie she'd seen had been the previous Harry Potter with JJ and Reid of all people. She was a member of the Smithsonian, but hadn't taken a single class or been to a single special event. Emily hadn't even gone to practice her emergency driving skills in nearly six months and she fucking loved keeping her certificate in that current.
Then there were the people. She'd gone shopping with JJ and Garcia, but, if she thought about it, shopping wasn't really something she enjoyed. The company had been good, but it was the company of people she saw every day. Her rolodex was thick with Christmas card friends, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to any of them.
The item that hurt the most, though, was realizing she hadn't left the country -- well, that case in Canada -- since she helped Gideon at Guantanamo. Before that, it had been close to two years since Emily packed a travel bag and just went somewhere. Hell, she was nearly forty and she still hadn't danced a tango in Buenos Aires or been to Carnival in Rio -- though she'd been to both New Orleans and Venice for Carnival in the past.
Travel, learning new cultures, practicing her language skills or learning a new one, had been the one great joy in her life. It was how she renewed herself when the day to day grind of FBI work became too much.
Now, Emily Prentiss was on the elite team of the most prestigious unit in the FBI, and the mill of serial killers was grinding her down and she had no outlets.
Damn.
***
Calling Mick Rawson had been a mistake. She hadn't repeated it.
***
In December, she went to the National Zoo to see the lights there. It had been years since she'd done something like that. She found herself talking to people around her and actually ended up going to a café for a drink with some grad students from GW.
When she was called into the office mid-afternoon on Sunday, she noticed Reid looking at her with a faint smile.
"You look relaxed," he said.
"Well, a serial rapist in Lima, Ohio is probably going to bring back some of the tension."
Reid nodded, and they both looked toward Garcia as she began their briefing.
***
By the time the big snowstorm hit in January, Emily was feeling more upbeat about her personal life. She'd gotten back in touch with one of her college roommates and the bond had come back full force.
There were so many memories now. Times shared with others, which, unless they were teammates, Emily just didn't get any more. Kisses and touches that she missed with a deep ache.
Emily was more relaxed now. She scheduled regular massages. She went to see shows. She kept in touch with friends old and new. And, while Reid might not think sex was that important, she realized that was also part of the life she needed to live now.
The snow fell thickly. The Federal government had shut down, though the team was still on call. With a day at home and nothing to do but laundry (okay, there were some DVDs she could watch), Emily took a deep breath and dialed a number.
It was picked up on the second ring.
Emily said, "Hi, Jordan. How've you been?"