Smoking Gun [Emily Prentiss]

Four

Then

"What does that even mean?" Willow asked, brows furrowed. She was sitting on the edge the couch, the very couch she and Emily had made love on more times than she could count. To say she was confused would be far beyond an understatement. "No, please, tell me; why wouldn't I get it, Emily?"

"Shit." Emily rolled her eyes, sighing. She was wearing sweats and ribbed tank, all black, except for her white sneakers. Her hair was thrown up into a careless pony. She turned away from Willow, headed for the door, but the younger woman beat her to it, having covered ground an FBI agent could only dream of covering. "Stop it. I have to go."

"Go where? To him?"

Emily stared at Willow blankly. She saw the tears clinging to her lashes, evidence that her heart was breaking. Her stomach fell when the younger woman asked, "Do you love him?"

Emily inhaled sharply, eyes rolling away from her girlfriend, but she didn't deny it, and both women were painfully aware.

"Then, why come back?" Willow asked, her voice crackling as though there was a frequency problem. "Why come back to me at all?"

"This is my home, Willow, but I have a job to do."

"Yeah, you can lie to yourself, Emily, but you can't lie to me.

"You're not denying it. Do you love him?" Willow trembled, eyes meeting Emily's once more. She didn't find whatever it was she was looking for; when Emily reached for her, Willow stepped back, glaring at her. "Don't touch me."

"Wil, c'mon-"

She shook her head. "No, I can't do this anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm-" Willow's voice broke, her emotion thick in her throat. She cleared it gently, whispering, "I'm done."

Emily's facade cracked, but she stood firmly. "No, you're not."

"I supported you when this first began, and I tried to be supportive when you came home wreaking like someone else, but... You can't even look at me and tell me you don't have feelings for him."

"Yes, okay? Yes." She said, deadpan. "I do have feelings for him, but I love you."

Shaking her head, Willow let the tears fall. It didn't make a damn bit of sense.

"Willow, please." Emily spoke gently as she took her girlfriend's face in her hands, thumbs brushing against the corners of her mouth. "To be convincing, I, Lauren, have to, on some fucked up level, have feelings for him. It's part of the job, but I, Emily, love you and only you. Do you understand? Willow, I love you."

"Do you have sex with him?" She didn't have to ask, because she already knew, though they hadn't specifically acknowledged it. 

Emily cringed, knowing she couldn't provide the answer the other woman was looking for. 

Breaking away from Emily, she scoffed, stepping away from her. She needed to clear her head; the room was suddenly far too small for the both of them. Emily was quiet, eyes sad as she watched Willow slip on her shoes and grab her coat from where it laid on the back of the couch.

"Where're you going?" She asked softly, stepping aside. Suddenly, she wasn't in such a rush to leave; Doyle could wait.

"Does it matter?"

"Will you be here when I get back?"

Willow met Emily's eyes and they both knew the answer, their hearts shattering in the silent reply.

Emily had to try one more time, desperate. "Please, don't leave. Don't do this. It's just for a little longer..."

"You won't even notice I'm gone." Willow replied softly. "You're married to the job, and, for now, that includes your 'assignment'. I'll collect my things later in the week."

Emily blinked, trying to hold back her tears. She hated crying and always had; a sign of weakness, she felt it was. But a few fell over her cheeks, and she quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand, sniffling. "Okay. If that's what you want."

Willow looked at her for a long moment. "What I wanted was you. All of you. I can't have that when you don't even know who you are anymore."