The Agent's Temptation

14. Emily Prentiss

You cleared your throat as you used all the strength you had to step away from Agent Hotchner.
He had a grim expression on his face and you feared how angry he'd be at you for ruining his suit.
He was a clean, organized and professional man (from what you had seen in two days), and it was clear that a coffee soaked suit was something he would hate.

"I am so sorry Agents Hotchner!" You said breathlessly, both from having touched him and also from the fear of having angered him. You didn't fear his reaction or his temper, you just hated the idea of having upset him.

He took some napkins from the nearby table and started cleaning himself too. He gently patted his suit jacket and sleeves and you grimaced when you saw how stained his white dress shirt was. His facial expression never changed and he didn't say a word as he looked down at his now-coffee-shiny shoes.

"I'll pay to have this cleaned," you say breathlessly again. "I'll replace your shoes too."
"No need for that," Agent Hotchner said, finally speaking but not looking at you.
"I insist. You're wearing a suit, you can't just throw that in the washer with everything else!"
"It's alright. Plus, my clothes get dirty more often than you think."
"I can't imagine more than mine," you say your breath laced with a small laugh.

Agent Hotchner raised an eyebrow and you shrug.
"I'm a teacher remember, kids are messy."
"Yes, I can only imagine the stains you have at the end of the day," he said in a tone that you perceived to be a bit mocking.
You too raise an eyebrow and cross your arms over your wet shirt.
"I must have you know Agent Hotchner, that kids are messy. Incredibly so, even if they're 13 years old. I get marker, food, pencil, pen, fragrant lotion, sweat, makeup and tears on me almost everyday."
"Your tears or theirs?"
You smile, feeling the tension between you two melt away. "Both."

Agent Hotchner smiled back, a very small smile as usual but a smile nonetheless.
When he was done cleaning himself as much as he could he asked an officer to ask one of his team members to fetch him a new shirt.
He was nothing if not a man who liked to look professional.
"Agent Reid spoke with me," you bring up, reaching for a new coffee cup. "He was very kind."
Agent Hotchner doesn't say anything but reached for a cup as well.
"You must be very proud of him, he seems young to be in the FBI."
"Yes, he is." He responds dryly.

You don't notice that he is trying his best not to clench his jaw and that he is taking deep breaths, you're too busy pouring your third packet of sugar into your cup.
"He must be around my age."
No response.
"He's saving lives and hunting down serial killers while I'm making sure kids write in complete sentences," you say with a laugh. "Talk about being extraordinary."

The coffee pot is shoved back into its place and the sound of it clashing into the holder makes you jump. You don't know why but your heart begins to race and palms sweat. Your vision blurs for a couple of seconds and the faint smell of the rusted pipes from the room you were held captive in comes back. Without blinking you set your cup down and rush out of the room and to the front of the police station.

Cops are walking past you, greeting you in a soft tone and you can smell the pine and freshly cut grass from around you. The mountains lay in front of you, covered in trees and bushes, painting everything a dark green with faint yellow. The breeze picks up and it plays with your hair, making it cover your eyes and nose but it helps ground you. The scent of the hotel shampoo fills your lungs and you feel them expand and your heart calms down.

Your reaction was unexpected, and tears fill your eyes knowing that this is only the beginning of a very long journey. From now on there will be noises, scents, faces and even colors that will trigger a response from you. You'll feel like you're in danger despite knowing you're not.

There is a low voice behind you and when it breaks through the ringing in your ears, you turn to see a tall woman with dark hair. Agent Prentiss. She is giving you a soft smile but her brown eyes are taking in every detail of you; not in an invading way but in a way a profiler does without realizing it.
"Is everything alright?" She asks, moving slowly towards you until she stands next to you. She placed both hands casually on her hips and the dark red fabric of her shirt spreads across her toned arms.
"Yeah, yes I'm ok." You say, tucking your hair behind your ears.
"You kind of rushed out of there in a hurry."
"You saw it?"
"Kind of hard to miss."

You grimace. "I just felt the need to step out, that's all. It was getting too hot."
Agent Prentiss raised her eyebrows, not believing you for a moment, but she doesn't push.
"It'll get better Y/N. With time, you'll learn to deal with it all."
Your eyes sting with tears again. "How? I didn't even see it happening...it was...it was just a coffee pot. It was Agent Hotchner, I'm safe. I know that but...but I..."
You can't get the words out but Agent Prentiss nods, understanding you nonetheless.

"I have dreams sometimes, and they come and go when I least expect it."
You wipe away your tears as she talks.
"Sometimes, they haunt me for days. Other times, they linger like a bad taste in my mouth. But they go away either way."
"How do to deal with it?" You ask, wondering what dreams haunt such a strong woman.
She takes a deep breath and speaks in a way that feels vulnerable. "I take it day by day. Because the only way through it, is to go through it."

You nod, knowing she's right.
You've taught your students the same thing. When they're upset, sad, tired or overwhelmed, they have to accept it. Acknowledge the feeling and find a way to navigate it.

She stands next to you, taking deep breaths of the mountain air and as you begin to turn away from her and look at the landscape once more, from the corner of your eye you see a tall lean figure walk away from the windows at the front of the station.