Encounter A/N: Well, this is my second attempt at writing a fic. It will be totally different. This will be a NCIS- Criminal Minds multi-chap crossover. I love both series. However, I watch the first more, just for you to know. This fic is dedicated to the ones who followed me, reviewed my first (and tragic) story or favourited it. You know who you are. Here, in the Criminal Minds universe, Hotch and Haley are divorced, no Foyet or Doyle, yes Strauss. In the NCIS one, Jenny is still Director but not the manipulative bitch she was during La Grenouille's case. In the timeline, it is probably pre- Somalia, but slightly AU because of that.
Disclaimer: the characters, mentions to events, plot, lines or whatever. Not mine. Sadly. *pouts*

Emily and Derek were hanging out in a bar. It had been a long, exhausting day, with a case which had drained them both. Hotch and JJ had excused themselves in order to see their children, Dave said he was too old (but they were quite sure he had a date) and Reid and Garcia wanted to go home. It was weird for their technical analyst not to accompany them, but she had been up since two days prior.
Therefore, the two agents sat pretty late in the night on stools in a bar. If Emily tried to remember how they had ended like that, her memories were just a long succession of clubs, cabs and bars. And several roads that had somehow led them to… Where were them? She would say somewhere in DC. She wasn't even sure. Granted, they had started in Quantico, and that was considered part of the metropolitan area. But, gosh, there was a long way in between.
And now she had one of those fancy-named drinks that, she would assure, contained tequila, vodka or something of those sorts. And was trapped in a deep conversation with Morgan.
"So, tell me, Em, about that date with that hot tub you had the other day. It sounded like a party, indeed!" Typical Derek, but his words kind of slurred and she only got what he meant because she was expecting it.
"Nothing to tell, we had a great time," she could guess hers sounded as little understandable as his, but the humor would work (she hoped) as a deviator for the conversation. Her love life, or lack of thereof, wasn't something she was eager to discuss.
"Sometimes, after a case like this, I just need to be reminded that we are still humans, living beings. Dunno, it's my way to cope, I mean. Touch warm skin. Know they are alive". WOW. She never would have waited for this words to leave his mouth and was pretty sure that if they hadn't been both totally intoxicated, they wouldn't have been said. "How do ya do it, Princess? Being all perfect, all complete. I feel all shattered and you are all like impassible."
How on earth was she supposed to answer that!? She was an expert in compartmentalization, she obviously did have feelings. Why did everybody assume she didn't? Did he think that of her? Of course she craved for human touch, but not anyone's; it was his she wanted. Although that was just wishful thinking, because that wasn't going to happen like, ever. So she decided a partial truth would do the trick. "I cope with chocolate ice cream and hot tubs, as you know. I'm not interested in flings. I'm just fine on my own." THAT was a lousy lie, but drunken Derek wouldn't notice. And she was proud of her drunken self for not revealing more than what she intended.
"No flings, huh? So you are interested in someone!" Dammit. She was confident in her answer. So, plan B: childlike discussion. But she knew they could be like that forever. Fuck.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too, princess."
Right in that moment, a very odd-looking (happy?) goth in the table besides them chose to stand on a seat and wave to someone in the packed crowd. She was obviously drunk and fell off it. With her, there were a petite, olive-skinned woman with thick, dark curly hair; a handsome man with hazel green eyes and a geeky-looking one with light hair and eyes. All three, Emily and Derek rushed to help. The rest of the people hadn't apparently noticed, which wasn't weird considering the incredible amount that was inside the place. They pulled her to her feet. Luckily, she only had a couple of bruises.
"Abby here is like super-hyper, she knows about about falls. It's not easy to manage several boxes while drinking Caf-pow and using rollers," laughed the first man with a charming smile. "I don't believe I have introduced myself. DiNozzo, Anthony DiNozzo. But you can call me Tony," he winked to Em.
"Shut up, Tony. Stop flirting with her. I am Ziva David." She had an accent that the female profiler could place somewhere in Middle East.
"Emily Prentiss," she answered the unspoken question as she shook the woman's hand. Luckily, they had all kind of sobered up a little. "Israeli?"
Ziva started to nod, she had almost immediately started to like the brunnette.
A voice rose from the crowd. "Excuse me, please, excuse me…"
She hadn't heard it in years. And then, its owner came out.
"Uncle Ducky!?" She exclaimed in surprise.
"Emily, my dear, it has been a long time!"

A/N: OK, so this is the first chapter. If you wish, let me know your thoughts. Or suggestions, corrections, whatever. The next update will probably be in a couple of weeks. Bye!