In Good Hands

The First Stitch

The fluorescent lights of the ER cast a harsh, clinical glow over the bustling scene, but Emily Prentiss barely noticed. Years in the BAU had made her accustomed to hospital settings; an ER visit every so often was practically part of the job. Tonight, a suspect's wild swing had left her with a cut on her forehead. It wasn't serious, but her head was starting to throb, and she was hoping to get stitched up quickly so she could go home and decompress.

"Agent Prentiss?" a nurse called from the hallway.

Emily looked up, hand still pressed to her forehead, and followed the nurse to a curtained-off bay in the back. She perched on the edge of the exam table, legs dangling, waiting for the doctor. A few moments later, the curtain swept back, and in stepped someone unexpected.

The doctor before her was tall and muscular, with tattooed arms visible even under the loose fit of her scrubs. Her eyes held a quiet intensity, softened by a slight smirk as she reviewed Emily's chart.

"You're Emily Prentiss?" she asked, glancing up with a glint of curiosity.

"That's me," Emily replied, tilting her head slightly. "And you are?"

"Dr. Y/N L/N. Trauma surgeon." Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter as she took in the chart details. "So, the BAU, huh?"

Emily gave a short nod. "Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Y/N's lips curved into a smile. "Behavioral Analysis? That sounds intense. I'm just here to stitch you up, but... I don't know. Maybe I'll get profiled while we're at it?"

Emily chuckled, picking up on the doctor's playful tone. "Consider it a free perk." She leaned in slightly, half in jest. "If you're not careful, I might have you all figured out by the end of this."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Y/N replied, grabbing antiseptic from the counter. She moved closer, tilting Emily's chin slightly as she examined the cut. "Looks like a straightforward job," she murmured, preparing to clean the area. "But it's on your forehead, so I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't scar."

Emily barely felt the sting of the antiseptic. Her focus had shifted to the steady, practiced way Y/N moved—her hands careful, her eyes alert. Close up, Emily noticed faint scars beneath Y/N's collar, one particularly prominent scar peeking just above the neckline of her scrubs. Instinctively, Emily's gaze softened, sensing a story hidden in those scars.

"Hold still," Y/N said gently, meeting her eyes for a moment before lifting a syringe. "This will numb the area. Just a small pinch."

Emily barely flinched as Y/N worked with quick precision, injecting the anesthetic in small increments. Her fingers brushed lightly along the edges of Emily's cut, and Emily couldn't help but notice the quiet strength in her hands—hands that spoke of experience, both in the ER and beyond.

"So," Y/N began as she threaded the suture needle, her voice light. "Rough night?"

Emily chuckled, feeling the slight pull of her skin as Y/N started her first stitch. "You could say that. Just your average takedown."

Y/N nodded, eyes fixed on her work. "The things people get up to these days..." She glanced up briefly, meeting Emily's gaze with a wry smile. "Guess that's why we're both here at midnight, doing what we do."

A beat of silence passed between them, charged with a quiet understanding. Y/N's focus returned to the wound, her hands steady, her brow furrowed slightly as she worked with meticulous care. Her closeness, her calm, drew Emily in, and for a moment, the chaos of her day faded.

Y/N's fingers gently tilted Emily's chin to catch the right angle. "Almost done," she murmured. "You holding up okay?"

"Yeah," Emily replied, her voice softer than usual. "Better than expected."

Y/N glanced up, eyebrows raised, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "High praise."

They shared a small laugh before Y/N finished the last stitch, tying it off with a practiced hand. She reached for a bandage, gently pressing it over the stitches with a tenderness that surprised Emily.

"There we go," Y/N said, leaning back slightly to admire her work. "You're all set."

Emily touched the edge of the bandage with a wry grin. "It's a good look."

"Oh, definitely," Y/N replied, her voice low, playful. She set her supplies aside, and their eyes met again, lingering just a little too long for it to be merely professional.

Y/N started to close Emily's chart but seemed to hesitate. "Look, I don't know if this is too forward, but... I'd like to know more about what you do. The cases, the team you work with. It sounds like a life few people would understand."

Emily's lips curved into a grin. "Are you saying you might be interested in a little after-hours profiling session?"

"Maybe," Y/N replied, meeting her gaze with a mischievous glint. "Or maybe something less work-related. You know... if you'd want to go out sometime."

Emily's heart skipped, but she masked it quickly. "I'd like that."

Y/N hesitated, smiling with a rueful glance. "Except there's this little hospital policy about dating patients. Something about ethics, boundaries—all that fun stuff."

Emily's face fell, but Y/N's smile only widened as she wrote a few final notes in Emily's file.

"But once I discharge you," Y/N said, closing the chart with a wink, "feel free to ask again."

Emily's pulse quickened, and she gave Y/N a lingering look as she stood. "Noted, Dr. L/N."

Y/N smirked, not missing a beat. "See you around, Agent Prentiss." She gestured to the door, pausing just long enough to catch Emily's eye one last time.

A few minutes later, as she was officially discharged, Emily made her way out of the ER. But just before she left, she heard a voice call her name from down the hall.

Turning, she saw Y/N leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, the smallest smirk on her face.

"So," Y/N said, cocking her head. "Feel free to ask again now."

Emily couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face. "Dr. L/N, would you like to go out with me?"

Y/N's smile softened, her eyes sparkling. "I'd love to."

They exchanged numbers, and as Emily left the hospital, she felt a strange, unexpected warmth settling over her. She didn't know what to expect from this mysterious, tattooed surgeon with the quick wit and quiet strength, but she knew she was looking forward to finding out.

As she drove through the quiet streets, Emily's thoughts circled back to Y/N. There was an unusual excitement coursing through her, a feeling she hadn't expected from such a simple encounter. It wasn't just the attraction, though that was certainly there. It was the comfort, the ease she'd felt with Y/N—a rare thing in Emily's world.

She parked her car and took a moment to sit in the silence, her mind drifting back to the feel of Y/N's hands as she stitched up her forehead. The gentle confidence, the way she'd looked at Emily, not with caution or curiosity but with a kind of familiarity, like she'd already understood the scars that ran deeper than skin.

As she climbed out of her car, her phone buzzed.

"Hey, Agent Prentiss, don't forget to take it easy tonight. Can't have you back here so soon. – Y/N"

Emily chuckled, typing back before she even knew what she wanted to say. "No promises, but I'll do my best. Looking forward to that drink."

After she sent it, she pocketed her phone, feeling a rare lightness in her chest. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.