moral code, 𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐬

𝘵𝘸𝘰

EMILY'S POV
i spent my morning prepping for future assignments, there wasn't much else to do since all my classes take place in the evenings. i didn't mind though, it provided me with more free time. todays lesson plan was the use of criminal profiling in homicide investigations. it wasn't a secret that i had experience in this sort of topic, on the first day, i introduced myself as ssa emily prentiss out of habit. but as the weeks went on, i explained to my students my history working for the fbi.

i collected my papers from my desk and made my way to the parking lot. since i was offered this teaching job, i took a leave of absence from work. i was apprehensive at first; the thought of leaving my family and taking a job i have barely any experience in, but i knew i needed a break, and the experience might lead to better opportunities. and truthfully, after my first class, i loved it. watching the students so eager to learn that they'd give up their tuesday and thursday evenings. of course a handful of them didn't participate, and i'm sure they were just there for the credit, but it was reassuring watching young people get excited about profiling: something i adored.

by the end of my first week, i knew i made the right decision taking this teaching job. the students were exceptional, i mean they had to be to get accepted. and the faculty, though i hadn't gotten the chance to know them, were welcoming. although criminal profiling wasn't a new course, the previous professor who taught it was an older man and, as the students say, stuck in the 70s. i assumed there would be some staff members bitter that a 39 year old woman was considered for the job before any of them, but i was qualified and i knew it. plus working for the behavioral analysis unit gave me a step in the right direction, thanks to the recommendation from hotch. the dean said he put in a good word for me, and i'm grateful he did. crazy how everyone seems to know me better than i know myself lately.

once i arrived at home, i tossed my keys on the table and situated myself on the sofa. i had lectures to plan and course prepping to do, and i had to learn how to do it. my students are patient with me, and i appreciate that. a few in particular have stood out: billy parker: always on time, has beautiful handwriting, participates regularly. anthony martinez: the other professor's refer to him as their star student. and then there's natalie campbell. i'm not certain what it is about her that i admire. she quite frequently participates, arrives even before i do, and has a charm about her i find appealing. at georgetown, criminology is a popular choice among students, probably because it's so close to quantico, but in that 16% of applicants that are accepted, maybe 5% end up being successful in the field. and from the looks of it, natalie could easily be apart of that 5%.

i didn't know much about her aside from she asks questions she already knows the answer to. i know it's not because she's second guessing herself, that much is clear, but the real reasoning behind it isn't.

at the end of class today, i found myself almost being flirty with her. giving her my business card that had my personal email and number on it was risky and i don't know what i was thinking.

if i'm being honest, i was struggling with a bit of an identity crisis. most women my age were already married and having babies, and i was no where close to settling down. it didn't really bother me until my mother came to visit a few months ago. she said what all mothers say to their daughters, that my biological clock is ticking and i don't want to end up alone, she doesn't want that for me. it was ironic coming from her; a career politician with little to no time for family.

i always considered myself married to the job, and it was becoming clear that's all i'd ever be married to. i had been careless with my reputation, constantly flirting with anyone i'd cross paths with. what harm could it do? but i had to remind myself that i am this girl's superior. the last thing i'd want is for her to feel uncomfortable around me. i told myself then and there that would be the last time i would be treacherous.

the night went by quicker than i could've imagined. it was 5am before i knew it. i was used to thriving on little to no sleep, so i made myself a coffee and called it a day.

around lunch i headed to this cafe on campus, it was popular among the students and i had yet to try it out. i ordered a feta bagel and a sweet tea, and i'll have to give credit to the workers, my food was excellent. on cases i'd usually have time for a granola bar or a muffin if i was lucky. i guess having time for proper meals is another benefit of this job.

i reached into my bag and pulled out slaughterhouse 5, when the little bell that hung from the door rang. i didn't think anything of it, people were coming and going all day, but then i heard a familiar voice at the counter. "could i get a double shot espresso with steamed milk please? iced."

i look up from my book and see natalie campbell. if instinct, i hide behind my hand, hoping she doesn't notice me.

the barista hands her her coffee and she politely thanks the young man and to my luck, takes a seat at the table beside me. i watch carefully as she pulls out a textbook and what i assume to be school notes. i watch as she concentrates on her writing, careful with every stroke.

our eyes meet and it pulls me from my thoughts. "hi emily." she greets softly.

"iced coffee in january? interesting choice." i chuckle.

"profiling me, professor?" she raises an eyebrow with amusement. "i didn't know you like to come here." i smile and wipe my hands on a napkin. "it's my first time actually."

"oh, in that case i recommend the breakfast wraps. they're delicious." she looks down at my plate. "well, i'll definitely try one next time." i watch as she taps her fingertips against the coffee cup. it was the first time i was fully looking at her since she approached me. her hair was tied in a top knot, and her makeup just slightly smeared. the bags under her eyes a clear sign of exhaustion. i realized in this moment she was right, i was profiling her. force of habit.

"you feeling okay?" i ask, playing the roll of the concerned teacher. she cleared her throat before speaking, "oh, yeah. the workload is heavier than i expected this semester." she chuckles lightly.

"you're a smart girl, i'm sure you'll manage." i look back down at the novel resting between the table and my hand.