Chapter Text
Stolen glances, touches that last longer than professional ones. Squeezed arms for reassurance. Anything so her arms don’t stray far from him. Luke Alvez, the man she’s been pining for since the first time she saw him. And she swears he notices too. The tension. It can’t just be her. She’s caught him a few times, gaze fixated on just her, on the jet, in her office. She can’t think of others at this time.
He remembers the first time he saw her, the way her voice stuttered and the smile draped over his face. Just if he knew how happy he’d be to listen to it all day. The way this new voice rings in his ears. Once not known. Now all he wants to hear. He’s aware she’s his superior, his boss. But yet it still feels like they’re equals in some sense. He seeks her out anytime she’s around. And when she isn’t around, he’s always the first to check if she’s okay. If that’s love, then so be it. He’s in love with Emily. The Emily Prentiss, before this Emily that’s just waltzed into Penelope’s apartment.
It’s the beginning of a new year. At least that’s what he’s saying is giving him the confidence. Yet he knows the Budweiser beer he’s drinking is also making an impact on that. He just doesn’t know how to address these pent-up feelings about her anymore. Either way. Tonight is the night where they take at least one step forward and hopefully no steps back.
Penelope’s
New Year’s party is great. She arrives later than everyone due to paperwork from the last case. Sometimes she hates being section chief because at this point, she’s accepted her fate that everyone’s going to be at least tipsy, maybe more by now.
She just dropped her bag on the ground and shouted hello, making my presence known to everyone in the apartment. His ears prick up. That voice. It gets him worked up, knowing she’s finally here. He’s been watching the clock like a hawk every half hour, sometimes even twice. Right now, the clock on the mantle reads 11:53 p.m. She almost missed it. He would’ve known what to do if she had missed it.
First people she sees are Tara and Rebecca refilling glasses in the kitchen. Two margaritas for themselves and a smaller glass which has some sort of brown liquid and two circular ice cubes. Giving them both a sideways hug, she thinks to herself before she rounds the corner. Whisky, Jack Daniel’s, must be Dave’s.
She continues her journey round Garcia’s apartment, saying her hellos. To the rest of the team, which includes Dave,JJ, Penelope, and him. Her eyes have already naturally fluttered towards him. Whether on purpose or accidentally, she’s not quite sure. But she swears his eyes light up. His eyes dazzling under the warm, glowing lights of Garcia’s apartment. It takes her a moment to register he’s pulled over an empty chair, moving Dave’s chair slightly to make room for the new addition.
We both know she could’ve sat somewhere else. But he wasn’t going to put himself through the torture of having her on the other side of the room, out of reach but definitely not out of mind.
She squeezes into the seat he pulled out for her. Half of her is sitting on her own chair and the other half on his chair due to the lack of space, but when she finally settles in her newfound seat, he gets a slight whiff of her perfume. He loves it. The intoxicating way it fills his nostrils, the way it makes his head spin. He wants to feel like this forever. Just being near her, and being able to smell her aroma. Makes him feel like he’s in heaven. Amen to this.
He snaps out of it. Wonders how long he’s been staring at her. Then he realises that she gave everyone else a hug except him. So he decided to push on the matter, playfully of course.
“Well, hello there, I’m Luke Alvez, don’t I get a hug?” he asked with a pout and a half-curled-up smile. Like he’s trying to act hurt that he didn’t receive one. But before she can respond, Penelope quickly and playfully chimes in, saying, “You don’t get a hug; you only get one when you leave, newbie.” With a cheesy grin on Penelope’s face, she turns, heading off to grab her drink from the other room. She hears Luke raising his voice so Garcia can hear, “Ouch, that hurt, you know. Also, I’ve been in this unit almost 4 years! I can’t be a newbie!” which generates a laugh from the others.
She doesn’t mind being closer to him. She actually likes it. The security guard-like persona is really working it for her. And it’s not like he’s making any efforts to move either. It’s nice; the conversation between them is easy. He’s telling her about his dog, Roxie; she’s telling him about Sergio, the cat she used to own, and how she gave him to Garcia when she went to France. He’s chuckling. “I knew it.” She just looks at him, confused, as she cocks her head to one side as he continues, “I knew it from the moment I met you when I was reading those FBI manuals; you were a cat person!” “Ahh. And that makes you all-knowing now, huh?” She’s challenging him. She knows she’s doing it. He knows it too. And just when he opens his mouth ready to speak, Dave switches on the Tv. It’s been quite sad as, outside their little bubble, they created, Dave was struggling with the tv and JJ had to help him find the right channel. All this for some bells they’ve all watched over 30 times. It’s the end of the year. She gets a drink handed to her over her shoulder, startling her a little. Emily takes the drink from Tara and says, “Thank you.” As Tara goes and sits next to Rebecca,
The Countdown on the Television begins.
5 Seconds till the new year.
4 Seconds till the normal is old and the new
is normal.
3 Seconds left; everyone is watching the screen, anticipatingly.
2 Seconds. For some reason, there’s a force pulling me towards Luke. We stare at each other as she gives a little nod of encouragement because she knows now they were on the same page all along.
1.. And he’s off like a horse at the races. Luke’s moving at a million speeds an hour towards Emily. His hand latching onto the side of her neck, giving them both balance. His lips hover over her lips for about a second or two whilst she forgets how to breathe. His lips ghost over hers. But she makes the move; she kisses him. Fireworks going off on the tv a blimp on their radar. The kiss is fuelled with excitement, passion, but most importantly, meaning. She’s melting into the kiss, letting his tongue explore her mouth. She deepens the kiss, resulting in him letting out a little grunt of pleasure. She feels it vibrating up to her brain. Then he
breaks the kiss. She honestly feels quite hurt; she didn’t want that to end so soon. Lips still swollen from their recent encounter, and she’s pouting. Fucking pouting. Emily Prentiss does not do pouting. He just smiles as wide as possible and says in a deep, gruff tone, “Happy New Year.”