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The bullpen feels alive again.
Even with Scratch finally in the rear view, the first day back feels strange. Emily can't remember the last time anyone on the team took a long sabbatical. Six weeks away from the work and people she'd seen every day for the past however many years—the adjustment during the break and the adjustment now feel odd, like prickling underneath her skin.
But still, let it be known Emily Prentiss is glad to be back, happy to be reunited with her team members once more. The board’s decision to reinstate Reid lifts one weight off Emily’s shoulders, was a huge win, and Emily can't wait to see everyone back in the office.
The office has a hum to it, a call that Emily feels as soon as she steps through the glass doors into the BAU department. Garcia's laugh carries over while JJ raises a hand in Emily's direction as she climbs up the steps to her own office, two steps at a time.
Things have changed over the break and yet stayed the same. Emily's walking to her office alone, when she thought she'd be walking in together with Tara for the first time—Tara had declared that her first day back required “real coffee—not whatever you and the BAU are trying to pass for it.”
Emily swings open her office door and stops short. Where she’d left a small disaster—though “left” was generous, as much as she rushed out to stop Scratch—there’s now a tidy stack, and a visible desk underneath it. The cleanup comes with new files; however, the telltale shape of manila folders with documents she needs to sign off on graces the center.
She drops her bag, rounds the edge of the desk, and flips open the first file: overtime and travel approvals from two months ago. She signs one, then another, and falls back into the rhythm, as if she were never gone.
By the time Tara knocks on the office door, Emily has forgotten to check the clock. Tara’s carrying a mug, and the smell of coffee wafts in—and by the distinct, just slightly burnt odor, Emily can tell it's BAU coffee Tara's brought for her.
Tara raises the insulated mug towards Emily as if to say, "For you," as she leans in for a kiss. Emily is more than happy to oblige, tilting her head up as their lips meet and Tara presses the mug into her hand.
They part, and Emily raises the mug to her face, inhaling it with gusto. She watches as across from her Tara’s mouth twists in pretend disgust. She downs half of it before collapsing back into her office chair.
“It’s like the first day back at school,” Emily says, gesturing at the open folders in front of her.
Tara chuckles, hands on her hips, as she says in a mock-stern voice, “And what did you do on your summer vacation, Emily Prentiss?”
"Me?" Emily plays along, a hand to her chest. "Wouldn't you know, Dr. Lewis? You were there for all of it after all."
Tara seats herself on the single empty corner of the desk, face still pretending to be serious. "Maybe, but for the rest of the class."
“Someone,” Emily says, tapping Tara's knee, “introduced me to binge-watching.”
“And some amazing shows,” Tara echoes.
“And some amazing shows,” Emily agrees, a laugh in her voice.
"How was it you hadn't ever seen—"
Tara's question is interrupted by Matt wheeling in with boxes on a hand truck. "Oh—did I interrupt? I was just bringing the files you asked for, Emily."
Tara waves the question away. "Nothing important."
"Just about our forced sabbatical," Emily continues, "I've been meaning to thank you for holding down the fort, Matt."
"It was nice to be on the big boy team for once," Matt jokes with them, raising his hand in salute. "Most of these cases are solved, but I'll brief you on them some other time."
"Sounds good," Emily agrees.
As Matt leaves, Tara also stands up from the desk, sighing, "Always more work to be done."
Emily also stands rounding the corner to stand in front of Tara, wrapping her arms around Tara's waist as she looks up, angling for a kiss. "Thank you for the coffee."
Tara spins them around before stepping back. "You're not kissing me with that coffee mouth," she threatens, making her way to the office door.
"It's good!" Emily protests, relenting when Tara raises an eyebrow, opening the door, and turning to face her. "Okay, I mean, it's not bad—it's not that bad. Come back here!"
Tara only laughs as she closes the door, poking her tongue out before the door shuts completely.
The day passes by in a haze, one meeting after another, both scheduled and unscheduled. Even her lunch break was interrupted so she could meet with the board for a second time on the way back.
Emily's halfway through a sandwich Tara had packed for her in the morning, about to take a seat before the phone on her desk rings again with the FBI's director wanting to see her.
She makes her way towards the elevator, manila folder in hand, sandwich sadly left at her desk.
That's where Tara catches her waiting for the elevator and crowds her, really, one arm against the wall as she leans in.
"First day back and I've barely seen you," Tara murmurs, whispering into Emily's ear. “We should request another sabbatical.”
“And who would catch the killers?” Emily leans her head back against the wall, her eyes meeting Tara's.
“Point,” Tara agrees, a smile playing at her lips. “It's our job and a curse to us all for being so damn good at it.”
"Too good." Emily agrees as she glances at her watch. "Wish my job was a little bit more about catching killers than meeting with the director today,” Emily sighs, "but what can you do?"
She ducks under Tara's arm as the elevator dings, turning around and pointing at her watch. "Briefing in an hour, Dr. Lewis."
Tara chuckles, throwing Emily a wink. “See you then, Agent Prentiss.”
The day feels never-ending, and though Emily knows she doesn't have to finish it all today, there's a feeling nagging her that she can't go back home the first day and leave this all for tomorrow.
Tara's already passed by a few times to check whether Emily was ready to go home and was met with a sheepish no, and a regretful smile every time.
Eventually, most of the team leaves, and Tara joins Emily in her office, bringing her own folders to analyze. They work in a companionable silence as the clock strikes 10PM, and Emily looks at the pile in front of her—the dent she's made throughout the day not even visible.
It makes her work feel almost futile on days like these where it's all paperwork and no killers being caught. “Do you ever think about what this job takes from us?” Emily asks, crossing her hands in front of her chest.
“All the time. Don't you?” Tara clicks the pen between her fingers, setting it on the table, looking up at Emily.
"Of course I do. There's so much young me thought I'd have done by now. Get married for starters, have a dog maybe, and own my house. Probably wouldn't have thought I'd become the head of the BAU, but it's not like I had a good work-life balance even then."
"No, I can't imagine," Tara grins. "You know, there's at least one of those things I can help you solve?"
"Yeah? What's that?" Emily asks. "You got a house for sale on the market?"
Tara stands up, rounds the corner, and sits on the desk in front of her. She takes Emily's hand in hers and looks her directly in the eyes. “Let’s get married.”
Emily's first reaction is to laugh, a surprised sound that turns genuine. "Good one."
“I’m serious.” Tara interlaces their fingers. “I love you. You love me. This job will take everything if we let it. But it can't stop us from living our lives.”
“Bold strategy.” Emily’s throat is suddenly tight, which is rude of it. “I’ve wanted to ask you to move in for months.”
“I liked my space.” Tara says, a half-smile playing at her lips. “Then we had that enforced together-time, and I realized I liked living with you more. Because you wash the dishes.” A beat, then she adds, "And because you let me pick the shows."
“Are you proposing to me in my office?” Emily despairs, standing up, the back of her legs knocking against the chair.
“Am I?” Tara pretends to study the room, before her eyes land back on Emily. “That doesn’t seem like appropriate work behavior.” Her eyes widen. “You're not going to make me kneel, are you?" She says, gesturing at her dress pants. "These clothes aren't exactly flexible."
Emily lets herself smile, the giddiness rising in her chest. “No,” she says, “I don't think that'll be necessary.”
“Then yes, I am asking you.” Tara tells her, a little breathless. “Marry me.”
“Okay,” Emily replies, her heart full. “Okay.”
On the morning of the ceremony, Emily stands before the mirror in a dark jacket, fidgeting with the cuffs back and forth. "I think young me thought I'd wear a wedding dress," she tells Tara. "Which is bizarre in retrospect, since I never wore dresses."
“I think it's a bit too late to change now,” Tara says, stepping in behind her, her arms coming to wrap around Emily's waist. Emily tips her head back to rest against Tara’s shoulder. “Too late and too expensive.”
"Also, you look unfairly good in that suit."Tara says tracing the suit with her eyes before catching Emily's gaze. Emily swallows. “You good?”
“Nervous,” Tara tells her, arms tightening around Emily's waist. “The good kind.”
“Same,” Emily whispers. “I'm so used to the BAU I forgot what it was like to get real jitters. Guess this job hasn't taken everything from us.”
“I can't be too mad,” Tara tells her, resting her head on Emily's shoulders. “It gave me you.”
"And most of the people at the wedding," Emily concurs. "Oh my god, Garcia is definitely going to cry."
"I think I already caught her crying. She told me she wasn't,, but her eyes were red and puffy, and I am a profiler.
Emily laughs, suddenly. She turns to face Tara. “I love you so much, do you know that?"
"Considering we are about to get married..." Tara trails off. Emily joking pushes at her shoulder and watches as Tara's face turns from joking to serious. "I love you too," Tara says, cupping Emily's face with one hand.
A knock comes from the door. JJ’s voice floats in. “Five minutes, newlyweds-to-be.”
“Copy that,” Emily calls back, her eyes never leaving Tara's. Tara pulls a tin of mints from her pocket and shakes one into Emily’s palm. “Insurance,” she says. “In case of coffee mouth.”
“It was one cup,” Emily says, but she takes the mint and makes a dramatic showing of popping it into her mouth, watching as Tara rolls her eyes at her antic. Tara gently holds her elbow out, her smile blinding as she asks, "Ready?"
“Yeah,” Emily says, returning that smile, interlocking their hands together. “Let’s go make it official.”