The secrets we keep (Prentiss/ Strauss, Criminal Minds)
Emily wonders why she keeps making these terrible relationship decisions. But then again this isn’t actually a relationship, is it. She stares at the woman lying next to her, who’s still fast asleep with her limbs tangled in the sheets, leaving Emily to lie naked under the early morning sun. But Emily doesn’t mind, it’s a warm room and her mind is too preoccupied with thoughts.
She had discrete affiliations before. Her cousin, the only one that knows more about her than anyone else, often calls them secret trysts in jest. But Emily doesn’t feel that is an apt description. She doesn’t just sleep around indiscriminately, not after … not anymore. The secrecy she keeps around her relations is mostly a habit, something she learned as an adolescent. Her parents never seemed to care what she did, as long as it didn’t became public knowledge. Her free time was her own, her mother always said with an absent smile. And soon Emily preferred it that way as well, feeling safe in her own privacy. She did wonder if her mother told her that to protect her own reputation or if she truly suspected her daughters taste in men, and sometimes women, would not be up to her standards. Emily often felt that failure in her mothers eyes was not a only a possibility, but an inevitability.
Biting her bottom lip, she stops the train of thought that threatens to take her back to her insecure childhood. She reminds herself that the relationship with her mother is gradually improving. They often talk on the phone now, and her mother sends frequent invitations to spend time together. Of course now it is the daughter who has to disappoint and call to say she can’t make it. So when almost a year ago she was invited to a charity event her parents hosted, Emily saw no reason to refuse, even if she truly despised those events. Her mother, in all her generosity, had seated her next to the other agent from the FBI, that probably would enjoy Emily’s company because she was new to these kinds of settings. Emily had seen no harm in aiding a fellow officer, until she recognised the other woman. Her mother had, in her own way, tried to help her by allowing her to mix with the upper regions of the Bureau…
Section Chief Strauss - even in her own mind she had trouble calling her Erin - stirs next to her. In her movements, Emily sees the signs that tell her she’ll soon wake up. She knows she should get up and leave, but stays anyway and watches the other woman mumble in her sleep and turn away from the sunlight. Emily used to leave before dawn, but lately she’d been staying a little longer each time, as if she was daring herself to push the limits. Just like when she was a little girl and put her hand closer and closer to the candle, waiting for the flame to burn her fingers.
She thinks back to their first private conversation. It didn’t go too well. Emily was an expert at keeping her emotions in check, but a conversationalist she wasn’t. In addition, she had little to tell to the person who had threatened to rip their team apart. Fortunately the greying surgeon on Emily’s right was pleased to be in the company of two very beautiful women, so he did his best to keep them both amused. Soon they were all relaxing into a conversation about opera and theatre. Later that night Emily had an interesting talk with her mother about boundaries.
God, her mother... Emily wonders if she would appreciate the irony of it all. Instead of charming her way to the top, she was now sleeping with the woman who had singlehandedly ensured that neither she nor the rest of her team would ever get ahead. She’s sure the rest of her team - her family - would not find it too amusing. She doesn’t even dare to imagine their reactions to her current situation. Morgan would be enraged, confronting her about how wrong he thought this was - as if she doesn’t know. The others would be more subdued, but they would never trust her again. It had taken her so long to earn that trust, to carve out a place amongst them. She isn’t sure she could stand losing that.
So why does she keep jeopardising her happiness with these secrets trysts? Angry at herself, she makes a decision and slips out of bed to collect her clothes. She tiptoes towards the guest bathroom, not feeling up to the forty minute drive to her own apartment with the scent of her sin still on her. But as she turns on the water, her memories refuse to be washed away.
After that first meeting, they kept meeting each other during fundraisers and other cultural activities. It seemed that after her divorce Erin Strauss had launched herself into community service. They could hardly avoid each other, being two respectable women, so after a few polite conversations, carefully avoiding the subject of work, the women had struck a silent truce. It seemed to work.
But then came that night... She’d had just flown in from La Plata Country were they had saved most of the Cyrus Cult members, except for the girl they had flown out to rescue in the first place. Injured, but also tired from an exhausting day of dodging worried team members and ensuring family members through the phone she was fine, she was glad to finally be home alone. So when someone rang her doorbell, she had every intention of very politely kicking the offender out. But when she recognised her bosses boss, she was too flabbergasted to do anything but to invite her in. To combat the awkwardness she’d poured two glasses of white wine. She doesn’t remember the conversation clearly, but she knows that suddenly Strauss was kneeling in front of her. She gently admonished for getting injured on the job - again - while tracings the cuts on Emily’s cheekbone. Emily wanted to defend herself, pointing out that it was hardly her fault that unsubs were violent by nature. But then Strauss silenced her with a kiss. She should have been dumbstruck by that bold move. She should have stopped her and let her down easily by blaming it on the wine. Maybe she should have even thrown her out. Instead she reciprocated. She even deepened the kiss and later invited her into her bedroom. That first night was the only night they’d spent at Emily’s place. Strauss’s house was much more private.
Hearing noises from the bedroom, Emily is shaken out of her reverie. She quickly towels herself dry and gets ready to leave. On the walls in the hallway, family pictures of mother and sons mock her, reminding her that Strauss too has good reasons to keep this whole affair secret. Even if it was considered in good taste to sleep with your younger female employee, it would never be a good idea to do so during a hellish divorce with a heated child custody battle on the way. Emily knows that this forced secrecy makes them equals in a strange way. They are both dependent on the other not to reveal their dirty little secret to their families. Still she doesn’t feel like an equal, fleeing out of the house like an unwanted guest, trying not to let the front door slam shut behind her.
She once asked Strauss why, why her? After all, Emily reasoned, Strauss had to feel that Emily had already betrayed her trust once, even if Emily didn’t agree with that assessment. Strauss had just shrugged and hadn’t answered, opting again to silence the younger woman with a kiss. The profiler didn’t press further. After all it was hardly fair to ask questions that she couldn’t answer herself. It didn’t matter anyway, the other woman still continued to call. Only once had it been Emily that called, after a case involving kids gone terribly wrong. To add to her distress, she heard she couldn’t come over, because the children were at Strauss’s place. In the other woman’s defence, Strauss had locked herself into her study, trying to comfort Emily through the phone line. Strange as it seems, it had helped. The next time they could meet, Strauss lavished her with attention and just spoiled her and Emily had let her. Unfortunately not every night was as pleasant… On night Strauss had drunkenly dialled her at 2 a.m. Worried she’d driven over, only to be mocked relentlessly by the other woman. She’d been called her a knight lost in modern times, ridiculously old-fashioned and honorable. Strauss had never made up for that night, and Emily never brought it up.
Getting in the car, she can’t resist looking up at the house one last time. She notices that the curtains of the bedroom move. Intrigued she keeps watching until Strauss’s face appears. Even though they are separated by two floors, Emily is certain she can see the little grey flecks in the other woman’s eyes. For a few moments they just stare at each other. Even with all her years of experience as a profiler Emily can’t decipher the other woman’s look. So she just starts the car and drives away without giving Erin a chance to stop her. Just as she always does.
It was a beautiful Sunday, she muses, turning on the radio. Perhaps she could visit JJ. Henry must have grown since the last time she’d seen him. Of maybe she could call Garcia and convince her to watch a terrible old sci-fi movie. Taking a left at the crossroads, driving towards the city again, she sighs. Who is she kidding? She’ll spend the rest of the day home alone, trying to compartmentalize the events of the previous night. At least that way, when they’ll meet again during the next few days in the hallway of the Bureau, they can pretend to hate each other again. Maybe this time she’ll mean it.