"Hi!" JJ squealed excitedly as she opened the front door of the cabin that she now shared with Rossi. Technically speaking, it was not a cabin. In all honesty, the fact that Rossi had the audacity to call it a cabin was disgusting. The building was huge, three stories tall and 6000 square feet, and had five full bathrooms and twelve bedrooms.
"Hey," Emily responded, looking around the foyer in awe like she did every time she came to Rossi's mansion. She could swear it got bigger every time she went in.
"Everyone is in the kitchen," JJ said cheerily. "You can take your shoes off there"- she pointed to a huge pile of shoes to Emily's left - "I'll take your coat."
"Thanks," Emily said, shrugging off her black trench coat. She always talked about buying a new coat - one that looked less "detective-y" as Garcia phrased it - but she never actually got around to it.
"Did you bring your swimsuit?" JJ asked.
"My swimsuit?" Emily asked, raising her eyebrows. "It's February, Jayje."
JJ smiled happily and said, "Oh, right, I forgot you haven't been here! We got a hot tub."
"A hot tub?" Emily repeated, her eyebrows reaching up and together in concern. "Oh."
"Don't worry, you can borrow one of my bikinis," JJ said as she hung her friend's coat in the front closet. "Lord knows I can't fit into them right now."
Emily smiled after a slight hesitation, which didn't go unnoticed by her profiler friend.
JJ narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Emily.
Shit.
"Are you okay?" JJ asked, genuine concern written over her face.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Emily said, placing the most neutral expression she could manage on her face. "Just tired from the flight and from setting up the apartment all day."
JJ stared at her for another moment, and Emily did her best to keep her expression neutral.
"Okay," JJ said dismissively, turning back towards the kitchen, where the playful bantering of the BAU team could be heard through the walls. "I'll let that go for now, but if I catch you being weird again you won't get off so easily," JJ declared, placing her hand on her back to support her hugely swollen stomach as she waddled towards the door, pushing it open.
A chorus of greetings rang out when the female agents entered the kitchen. Rossi stood at the oven, stirring a large pot of boiling noodles, wearing an apron that read "Baciare il Cuoco!" Morgan sat at the kitchen island with his giggling daughter on his lap, talking to Jack, who sat on the stool next to him, playing on his Nintendo DS and explaining the game to Morgan. Garcia sat on the other side of Jack, knitting what appeared to be a blue bootie for a baby as she talked with Rossi. The French doors connecting the kitchen to the dining room were opened, revealing Reid sitting at the dining room table with Henry on his lap, Ashley Seaver beaming at him, both talking to... Alex Blake.
Emily narrowed her eyes slightly at the appearance of her replacement.
What gave her the right to waltz in and take her place in this team? This was Emily's family, not hers!
Emily took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. After all, it was her decision to leave in the first place.
And what a stupid decision it had been.
That was probably one of the biggest mistakes she'd ever made in her life. Two long, miserable years she'd spent in a foreign country. Not that she wasn't used to foreign countries – hell, she spent most of her life in foreign countries. That's why it shouldn't have been so hard. She thought if she'd give it enough time, if she'd settle down, maybe find herself a man.
But no. Sergio was still the only long-term relationship she had with the other sex, and the two years she'd spent in rainy London were arguably the worst two years of her life. Each day was basically the same: go to work, do whatever, go home, be miserable and lonely, eventually fall asleep. Repeat. The fact that Doyle had found her in London hadn't really created the home-sweet-home feeling she was going for, either.
She was interviewing a family in their home when she decided she couldn't stay in London any longer. The family had ten adopted kids. Her decision was based on a magnet stuck to the family's refrigerator that read, "Family isn't whose blood you carry. It's who you love and who loves you back." Three weeks later, she was packed up and on her way back to the states, back to Quantico.
And here she was, in Rossi's kitchen, finally back with the people that she considered to be family, back in the city that was the first place she had ever truly felt like she was home.
And what was she doing about it?
Bitching that the team replaced her.
Of course they replaced you, Emily mentally scolded herself. That's just business.
Emily glanced over at the new woman. Henry was now sitting on her lap while she talked and laughed with Reid. They certainly looked happy. Maybe they were glad she was gone. Maybe this woman - Dr. Alex Blake - maybe she was a better version of Emily. Emily two-point-o.
She began to feel the nerves creeping in again, and squeezed her eyes shut, taking another deep breath.
Damn these pregnancy hormones, she cursed.
Then she realized something.
Everyone was staring at her.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Emily scolded herself. How long was I standing here like an idiot? Don't just stand here, Emily! SAY something!
"...Um..." she said, breaking out of her trance. She opened her mouth to say something else, and then slammed it shut again. Nice, Emily. 'Um'. That'll throw them off. "Sorry," she finally said, glancing from concerned face to concerned face of her team. "I'm just tired. From, you know, the plane."
"Oh," said JJ loudly, glancing around at the rest of their friends. "Yeah, that makes sense."
They still looked skeptical.
"Dave, is the pasta almost done?" JJ asked, trying to get the attention off of her friend. That apparently worked, because most of the agents looked away from Emily, either back to their conversations or towards Rossi, wondering if the food was almost done.
"Twenty minutes or so," he responded.
"Twenty minutes!" Morgan exclaimed. "Come on, man, I'm starvin' here!"
"Do you want it fast, or do you want it gustosissima?" Rossi asked, annoyed.
"What's gusto-what-a-ma?" Morgan asked.
"It's like... delicious," Emily said, translating Rossi's Italian for the team like in old times. They seemed to relax more after hearing her do something that she used to do, hopefully forgetting her previous hesitation. Pushing it to the back of their minds, at least.
Not JJ, though. She was still eyeing Emily suspiciously.
The kitchen door swung opened again, and Hotch entered the room. Pushing the door open behind him and busting into the room were JJ and Rossi's three dogs, Mudgie, Bachelor, and Chance. They bounded into the room, barking loudly and jumping up on everyone. Chance put her paws up on the counter, trying to take a large hunk of beef.
"OUT!" Rossi screamed, waving his knife around like a madman. "GET THE DOGS OUT OF MY KITCHEN!"
"Come on, Chance!" JJ scolded the recently adopted Doberman, grabbing her collar and dragging her towards the kitchen door. Suddenly JJ shrieked, let go of the dog's collar, and clutched her stomach.
"Jennifer!" Rossi shouted, concerned, dropping his spoon into the pot of boiling water and rushing forwards. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Yeah," JJ panted, giving a pained smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Just a weird kick, or something. Don't worry, Dave. I'm fine. Really."
A buzzer went off, and Dave turned around to look at his pasta.
"DAMN IT, CHANCE!" Dave roared.
The pasta had been knocked off of the stove by the Doberman, noodles piled on top of her head, while she, Bachelor, and Mudgie enjoyed Rossi's fine Italian cooking.
"OUT, OUT! BOTH OF YOU, OUT!" Rossi roared. The dogs ran out of the kitchen, tails between their legs.
The team stared at Rossi, watching him fume for a few seconds.
"...Now what?" Garcia asked timidly, breaking the silence.
"I'll have to start over!" Rossi cried in despair.
"I'm ordering a pizza," Morgan said impatiently, whipping out his iPhone and dialing the nearest pizzeria.
"No, Derek, don't you dare -"
"-Dave-" JJ protested.
"-I am a fine Italian chef and I deserve to be -"
"Rossi, we know you're good at cooking. You don't need to prove anything to us -" said Alex.
"Pizza!" Jack and Henry cheered.
"We're hungry, Dave," JJ said, placing a hand on his forearm.
"No! We are not ordering a pizza! I called for a nice, home cooked meal, and -"
"DO Y'ALL WANT CHEESY CRUST ON THIS?" Morgan shouted, his phone away from his mouth as he shouted to the room.
"Chee-sy crust! Chee-sy crust!" the boys chanted, happy that they wouldn't have to eat pasta afterall.
Kendall began to cry, and Morgan tried to bounce her up and down on his hip while simultaneously ordering the pizza. Dave was still shouting about how it was an outrage to order pizza in such a fine Italian home while JJ and Hotch tried to calm him down.
"Did you know there are 5 billion pizzas sold annually around the world? 3 billion of those pizzas are purchased in the United States -"
"Shut up, Spence."
"YO BABY GIRL!" Morgan shouted, "I could use a hand over here!"
Garcia, who had been, up until now, recording the scene with her iPhone, quickly took the crying baby from Morgan and took her out of the room, accidentally letting the dogs back in.
"NO, BACHELOR!" JJ shrieked, making a move towards the Pekingese that was about to pee on Hotch's shoe. Hotch jumped out of the way just in time, landing on a toy car that had been forgotten during Henry's playtime. He tripped and landed directly on Emily's lap.
"Oof!" she squeaked as the air rushed out of her lungs. Hotch quickly stood up, brushing off his shirt.
"Prentiss, I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, flustered. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Hotch, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
She glared at him, glancing quickly around the room to see if anyone had noticed. To her relief, Morgan was still on the phone, the boys were still cheering, Rossi was trying to get the dogs out of his kitchen, Garcia was still in the hallway, Blake was still sitting boredly at the dining room table, and JJ was...
Shit.
JJ was staring straight at her, eyebrow raised, arms folded across her chest.
"Not here," Emily mouthed at her best friend. JJ narrowed her eyes, and then nodded her agreement.
"Okay!" JJ said loudly. "Everybody out of the kitchen! Out, out!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T DELIVER?" Morgan shouted into his phone. "YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING. ALL PIZZERIAS DELIVER!"
"Actually, only 65% of pizzerias deliver -"
"SHUT UP, REID!" several people shouted at once, as JJ ushered them all out of her kitchen, preserving as much of Rossi's sanity as she could.