Series 7 One-shots: Hit & Run

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the ideas.

So this is it – the final one!

I have stuck to the American format and put both episodes together into a single one-shot (in the UK the episodes were split over two weeks). For the detail seekers among you, this is written in the order of the dances Emily had at the wedding. I will admit I struggled to write this, as it brought me to tears – so be warned!

All that is left is to say – see you with Series 8 (if I can face doing this again).

. . .

Prompt

Prentiss: It's not you guys, I love you. I just . . . I can't grab on to my old life and pretend that nothing happened.

. . .

Emily knew this was wrong, that it flew against common protocol, but there was no way she could risk Reid being the last to know. Besides she knew that if she could make him understand then she could make anyone understand.

Hovering by the coffee machine, the smell of the fresh pot testing her resolve to stay off of caffeine, Emily waited for the arrival of the young genius. Nervously she nibbled at the edges of her already shot nails. He was always early, why today did he have to be late?

"What's up?" came a cheery voice as Spencer Reid rounded the corner, dumping the disposable cup that had held his previous coffee on the way to grabbing the next.

"Nothing," Emily lied unconvincingly, shoving her hands deep into her pockets as she spoke.

Reid stopped and stared – rooted to the very spot.

"Don't" Emily squirmed.

"Don't what?" he squeaked, fully aware of what he was doing.

"Don't analyse me," she answered, realising that she was totally distracting from the point of hanging around the coffee pot in the first place, this was not how she had imagined the conversation would go, "It's just, I wanted to talk to you."

Reid reached passed her without saying a word to get a mug and filled it, before leaving for his desk.

"Wait," she called as she followed him over.

Reid placed his coffee down followed by his satchel, before sitting in his chair and flicking on the computer. He reached for the top file on the pile, but his hand was blocked. Slowly he looked up.

"Don't think you can ignore me, because I can be a complete pain in the arse, if that is what it takes for you to take notice," as she spoke Emily reached across to her desk and pulled her chair over sitting right next to him, "Okay so shall we go through the first file togethe?."

"I don't want to hear whatever it is you have to say," Reid near whispered, his eyes flitting round nervously.

"Tough, because if I don't tell you then you will only accuse me of leaving without saying goodbye; and I can't do that again. So you either listen now or I plague you for the rest of the day."

"You're leaving," Reid lifted his head and stared at her for the second time that morning.

Emily nodded, this was harder then she thought. Why did it seem like a good idea to talk to everyone at work? She should have stuck to her original plan and called round in the evenings, or maybe got them all together and dealt with it in one foul sweep.

"End of the month," she shrugged, as if it explained everything.

"Is everything okay?" Reid asked, not attempting to hide the concern in his voice.

Emily smiled and nodded, "If you mean do I have another mad-man after me, then no. This time it is of my own free will and choice. I . . . I just need something new. I can't do this any longer."

Emily waved her hand around the room, which was slowly filling as she spoke, her eyes tracing the path. She remembered the last time she had done the same thing. Listening to Hotch deliver the profile for Doyle as she decided to leave to face him –it had broken her heart to walk away. Now she didn't know if she had the strength to do it a second time.

"I'll miss you," Reid whispered as he fiddled with the items on his desk, unable to look up at her.

"I'll miss you too," Emily struggled to speak past the lump in her throat. Slowly she reached over and squeezed Reid's hand, stopping the incessant twitching. Neither said another word. They just sat for as long as they could get away with.

. . .

Emily stood outside Derek's office, trying to summon the mental strength to knock. She knew that Derek was well aware of what was coming yet somehow it didn't make it any easier. Rapping her knuckles quietly on the door, she waited before entering.

Once inside, Emily sat opposite Derek. The look on his face said it all.

"I told Reid," she said flatly.

Derek nodded.

"Not everything, just that I can't do this job anymore. I thought he might understand that after all he has been through."

Derek nodded again, interlacing his finger on the desk in front of him.

"You'll look after him for me, won't you?" Emily managed before the tears finally choked her.

Derek shot round the desk and pulled her into a hug, "Of course, but he's stronger than any of us give him credit for."

Emily hic-cupped a sob as she pulled away, "I don't know if I can do this."

"You don't have to," Derek answered hopefully.

"I do, that's the problem," Emily tried hard to minimise the impact of her tears on her make-up as she spoke, "I thought walking away from you all to face Doyle was hard, but I was wrong. This is much harder; actually telling people is a bitch."

"Then make the most of the time you have left with us. Take Reid to see one of those strange foreign films you enjoy, have the biggest girl's night out you can, share extravagant Italian wine with Rossi and take Jack to the park with Hotch. Do all the things you enjoy most so everyone has a great memory to share with you before you go."

"What about you?" she asked, the tears brimming her eyes again.

"We'll think of something," Derek smiled, a forced facade to how he was truly feeling.

. . .

Making her way along the landing, she bypassed Hotch for a while. Rossi's door was open, so she stepped tentatively inside. She immediately realised Dave was out. Turning slowly she took in the now familiar surroundings, and remembered back to getting caught analysing the room when Dave became its new occupant.

It didn't look that much different from that day, the final colour not being miles away from the original taupe base coat. The only difference was this time Emily knew that David Rossi wasn't the cold and distant personality she had originally typecast him as.

"Thought you learnt your lesson a long time ago about snooping round my office," Emily jumped as the deep voice spoke from the doorway.

She turned to see Dave leaning against the post a smile on his face - one that soon dissipated as he took in the sullen look on hers.

"What's the matter?"

Emily sighed not sure she could do this again.

Dave went past her and opened a draw, placing two cut crystal tumblers onto the desk.

Emily shook her head, "It's not even lunchtime yet."

"So, you look like you need it," Dave held the bottle of single malt over the first glass.

"No, honestly, not now," Emily waved her hand in protest then watched as Dave replaced the glasses and bottle in his not so secret hiding hole, "I need to speak to Strauss later, don't think it's a good idea. However after her . . . "

"I'll have one ready for you," he smiled knowingly. Strauss had that effect on people, "So . . ."

"So . . . I'm leaving. Easter wants me to run things for him, since he's moving onto bigger and better."

"And you have said yes?" Dave raised an eyebrow questioning.

"It is a step away from the front line," Emily shrugged, "just what I need. . . I can't face the victims anymore."

Dave nodded, he could understand that. Hell he had taken a long enough hiatus to hide in his books, before returning to face it all again.

"You know you'll be welcome back anytime. . ."

Emily nodded.

". . . and that you will be missed."

. . .

JJ and Garcia both took a seat as Emily slid into the opposite side of the booth.

"Sweetie this is lovely, surprise lunch and all, but I was thinking something a little more risqué for our little belated bachelorette party," Garcia smiled.

Emily smiled, "It's not in celebration of JJ's recent nuptials, in fact I'm not sure you would call it a celebration at all."

JJ looked Emily straight in the eye, "I don't like the sound of that,"

"Then you are going to like this even less," Emily forced a smile, anything to hold back the tears, "I'm leaving the BAU."

Emily let the news sink in.

"No," Garcia wailed, catching the attention of most of the occupants of the diner.

Emily reached across and took her hand, "I'm sorry."

"But we have only just got you back."

"I know but I can't do this any longer."

"So what are you doing?" JJ asked suspiciously.

"Leaving for England, I'm replacing Clyde," Emily answered flatly, avoiding either set of eyes.

The waitress brought their order over, their usual, placing them in front of each customer with care.

Each looked at their plate, but not one started to eat – they no longer had an appetite.

. . .

Sat opposite Hotch Emily took a deep breath, "Why do I get the feeling you know what I am going to say before I say it?"

Hotch shrugged, "because I am a very good profiler."

"Or Rossi has been in to moan at you already assuming I'd come here first."

"That too, and I must admit I'm a little disappointed I'm last on your list. I thought you could talk to me Emily."

"Sorry," Emily muttered, "Does it help if I tell you it's because I don't want you to be disappointed in me that I have found it difficult to tell you the truth."

"Why would you think I'd be disappointed in you? Yes I'm disappointed you are leaving, you're a good agent."

"Because I'm giving up," Emily answered honestly, "It's all getting too much for me and I'm running, again."

"Running to a highly stressful job that anyone can see as a promotion. I think technically you may out rank me in this one."

"Really, bet you didn't let Clyde know that when he was over here."

Hotch had to smile.

"So how long?"

"End of the month, I've booked my flight, now just need to sort the rest of my life out."

"I know that, how long have you wanted to leave?"

Emily recounted her conversation with Morgan, the honest truth that she had been looking for an escape route since she had returned, "Too long. Guess I have just been too stubborn to admit it."

"Emily Prentiss . . . stubborn?"

They both smiled, knowing that moments like this were rare, but part of what they would both miss.

. . .

Stood at her desk, clearing her things for the night, Emily looked around the familiar setting. She had thought hiding from Doyle had been the hardest thing she had ever done. That the solitude had been suffocating. Yet facing the next two weeks she knew would bring a rollercoaster of emotion, and that sharing was not going to make it any easier.

Closing her bag Emily felt a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't help but jump as she thought she was the last person there.

"Time for that drink now?" asked the familiar voice of David Rossi.

She nodded, as they made their way to his office.

. . .

I've always heard every ending is also a new beginning, we just don't know it at the time, I'd like to believe that's true.

Emily Prentiss