I Knew They'd Call You

So Small

The entire plane ride my mind was stuck on the short conversation that Derek and I had before we left. It was one of those conversations or accusations that were true, but you sort of wanted to be true. But we weren't going to talk about that. Did he really think that something was happening between us? Was it that obvious that he had to come in and say something to me? Was it that obvious? There was nothing even to be obvious about! Nothing was happening between us! 

I was overthinking it, I was overthinking everything. It needed to stop. 

But I couldn't stop looking at her. I couldn't help but admire how gorgeous she was always. Five in the morning, six at night, either way she looked absolutely incredible. Besides, I was still mad that she looked so much better in my clothes than I did. I mean, she looked good. And seeing her name on the back of my sweatshirt, that was a whole different level of emotion. An emotion that I still didn't understand but was not at all opposed to having. 

A few minutes after we borded the jet, she texted me saying that she missed our glasses of wine. I chuckled and could definitely relate. I thanked her again for our "beautifully romantic dinner" and when she got the text message, she actually laughed out loud. For a second, everyone on the plan looked at her, and she on the fly made up a reason as to why she had laughed like that. My face blushed wildly knowing that it was my fault. I tried to compose myself by turning my attention to the plane window, but that was quickly disrpted when she texted me a series of hearts and kissy-faced emojis. At that point I had to put my phone down. 

Since it was the middle of the night, most of us sat in silence, doing our own things. The cabin fell quiet. It got so quiet at one point that my thoughts became louder than the plane itself. 

What was I doing? How was this even happening? First of all, how did this woman have the ability to make me feel a way I had never felt before in my entire life. Well, I knew exactly how she did it, and it wasn't fair. How did I go years not understanding this feeling until one weird and specific, spontaneous night? Why did we start slow dancing to George Strait?! I couldn't tell her how I felt, there was absolutely no way. There was no way she could feel the same way, and there was no way she would ever be interested in me. I have a kid, and an ex-husband, it wasn't exactly a perfect situation. But God did she make me want her. She could do anything, it could be something so small that made me just fall farther and farther into... no, I can't even say it. There is no way this woman loved me. What was happening. 

My overwhelming thoughts were interrupted once I felt a hand begin to rub my arm, startling me a bit. I looked the other way to see Emily's expressive eyes looking at me concerned. 

"You alright?" she aked quietly, as to not draw attention to us. I smiled, nodding easily. 

"Yeah," I shook my head, removing myself from my thoughts. "I'm just thinking, and tired," I answered honestly. Her hand stopped on my hand. 

"Alright," she smiled. "You just looked concerned," I said playfully, settling back in her seat. I did as well, closing my eyes for a second, squeezing her hand before I started to nod back off. 

I'm going to hell. 

*********

We got to Bismarck with a few hours before we were supposed to be to the station. Everyone went to their respective rooms to try and get some rest before we had to be up again. 

Since we were in the middle of nowhere North Dakota, we each got out own rooms. Usually when we went to busier places, we would share rooms just to make things simpler, but it all depends on where we go. Honestly, I didn't mind sharing a room. I liked having the company and someone to talk to. Not to mention, staying in a room with Emily was a party and a half... except for the mornings; she was grumpy in the mornings. 

I've learned that in order to avoid that, giving her a cup of coffee to wake her up usually alleviates some of the grumpiness associated with the early mornings. It was always funny and she was adorable whenever I would hand her the coffee in the morning, or when she would notice there was a cup sat on her night stand. She was always so grateful, and it made me happy knowing that I could make her day a little bit better. 

After laying in my bed for three hours, hoping to fall asleep but really just laying there thinking about things I shouldn't think about, I finally got up to get coffee. I walked down to the lobby and started pouring my cup. The lady at the front desk was staring at me the entire time, and it made me feel just a little uncomfortable. You could tell that they weren't used to having the FBI in their town. 

As I was making my coffee, I contemplated getting one for Emily. Was it weird to get it for her even if we weren't sharing a room? Was I just going to knock on her door awkwardly with a cup of coffee in my hand? She had to be awake already, we were supposed to be at the station in twenty. 

I decided to get her the coffee. 

I made my way back towards our group of rooms, and nervously approached her door. I knocked quietly, to not draw attention to myself, and within a few seconds, she was opening the door. Immediately a groggy smile stretched across her face. 

"Thought you could use it," I said shyly. I looked up to see her tired eyes widen. She began bouncing back and fourth in her place. 

"You know JJ, I really, really, really love you. This morning especially," she admitted. Stop making me feel this way, it's too early, it's not even eight. "Thank you." I handed her the coffee, leaning against the doorframe. I wanted more than anything to just ki- no. I couldn't. But I wanted to. 

"I'll see you later, alright?" I said, trying to bring my attention back to her. Well, back to her in person. 

"That you will," she replied with a smirk. 

Walking away from her room, I felt like a teenage girl that just got a housecall from her boyfriend of a week. My face was red, my heart was beating a million miles per minute. I was flustered and a misconstrued jumble of thoughts. It was then that I decided that Emily Prentiss was going to be the death of me... and I wasn't upset by it.