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“How am I drunk right now?” Doug questioned as he polished off his second glass of wine. “I’ve had half of what I usually drink. You must be rubbing off on me.”
“Right,” Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s my fault, definitely not the fact that you’re sleep deprived and have barely eaten today.”
“That’s not it. Trust me, I’ve had much more than this while running on fumes, and it’s never hit this hard,” he argued.
“Yeah, and when was that, college?” She teased. “I hate to break it to you, Bailey, but you’re not in your twenties anymore.”
“I’m closer than you,” he shrugged, struggling to hide the small smirk that slipped onto his face.
“Always playing the age card,” she shook her head. “Bold for the youngest member of the senior staff. You’re lucky we haven’t eaten you alive.”
“You wouldn’t. I fit in too well,” he grinned.
“Although, I will say, I think I nearly gave the AG a heart attack when I told her I finished undergrad in the 2000s.” Emily’s jaw dropped, making two things evident: she was just as shocked as the AG had been, and she was definitely not sober.
“You’re kidding,” she stated, eyebrows raised. “There is no way in hell.”
“I’m dead serious. Class of 2002.”
“Well, shit,” she muttered. Neither said anything as she grabbed the bottle of wine, pouring him a new glass and topping off her own. She took a slow sip, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face.
“So, when did you lose your virginity?” She asked. Doug did a double take at the question.
“I- I’m sorry?” He asked in disbelief.
“You heard me,” she probed. “Your coming of age was between centuries, so which one was it? Give me a year.”
“I- Jesus, how drunk are you?” He gawked.
“Just answer the damn question,” she pressed. He gave a slightly annoyed sigh, accepting there was no way he could get out of this.
“1999,” he admitted. “So, no, I did not enter the 21st century as a symbol of chastity.”
“I didn’t assume you did,” she claimed. “What was she like?”
It was supposed to be a casual question, but Doug’s reaction told her it was deeper than she thought. It didn’t take a profiler to spot the emotion that flashed through his eyes. Emily didn’t have a chance to decipher exactly what it was, it had disappeared within a second, but something about his expression told her it wasn’t the typical reminiscing that came from remembering a teenage fling. No, this was deeper, almost fearful.
“She,” he murmured. “Uh, she… she was nice, you know?” He shared awkwardly. “Wildly out of my league but apparently had a thing for ‘hot nerds’— those are not my words,” he clarified quickly before she could add her two cents.
“Sure,” she laughed, enjoying the conversation a little too much. “Wait, the year was ‘99?” She asked, the timeline suddenly clicking. “You were born in ‘80, right?”
“Yeah?” He questioned, not sure where she was going with this.
“So you were nineteen? Fully an adult and everything,” she said, her tone giving away her surprise.
“What? Are you gonna shame me for waiting until college? It’s really not that unusual,” he defended.
“No, I wasn’t going to shame you,” she clarified quietly. “I’m a bit jealous, actually. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t pushed myself, hadn’t forced myself to grow up so fast.” Doug’s eyes immediately softened.
“How old?” He asked. She gave him a weary look before answering.
“Fifteen,” she said. “Freshly fifteen.”
“Oh,” he nearly whispered. “Emily, you didn’t- I mean- you weren’t-“
“It was consensual,” she stated, already knowing what he was thinking. “Just… reckless, you know? Stupid.”
“I don’t think you could ever be stupid,” he shared. “You’re Emily Prentiss.”
“Yeah, well, ‘Emily Prentiss’ had a completely different reputation before her days with the Bureau,” she laughed, although it didn’t seem entirely genuine.
“Oh?” He questioned, curiosity piquing. “So who was Emily Prentiss before she became the biggest badass in law enforcement?”
“She was… rebellious,” Emily admitted. “Sometimes I still can’t believe the shit I did in high school.”
“Do I want to know?” He asked wearily.
“No,” she responded quickly. “I think you’d have to fire me on the spot.”
“Prentiss, I’m drunk in your office. I think we’re past that,” he chuckled.
“Fair point,” she laughed. “If I’m going down, you’re going down with me.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he grinned, raising his glass. She followed suit, and they both took a hearty sip.
“So, what was he like?”
“Who?” Emily asked.
“You know,” Doug pried suggestively. “The guy. Unless it was a girl.”
“No, it was a guy,” she confirmed. “Although I applaud you for mentioning the alternative. Tara always says way too many people assume every federal employee is straight.”
“Right,” Doug hummed, quickly brushing over the topic in a way that made emily raise an eyebrow.
“So this mystery boy?”
“Yeah,” she gave a melancholy chuckle. “He started as a friend, and he was good to me.”
“Did you keep in touch?” Doug asked.
“No, we both moved around a lot, so it just wasn’t plausible,” she admitted. “I did see him back in 2008 though. Saved him from an unsub, actually.”
“Wow,” Doug said, stunned. “Small world I guess.”
“Something like that,” she shrugged. “What about you? Did you keep in touch with her? Or him?” Doug gave a light smile at the addition.
“No,” he shook his head sadly. “We had different careers, different goals. It never would’ve worked.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily said sincerely.
“It’s fine,” he said, brushing off her concern. “Honestly, I think it’s for the best. They wouldn’t have been happy being with a bureaucrat.” The use of the neutral pronoun caught Emily’s attention. It made her even more sure that her suspicions were correct.
“Doug,” she started gently, cautiously, as though one wrong word would set off an explosion. “This partner… he was a man, wasn’t he?” Doug met her gaze, his eyes full of fear and defensiveness, before caving with a sigh.
“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Yeah, he was.”
“You could’ve told me,” Emily said softly, keeping her voice low.
“It’s just-“ Doug swallowed hard in a desperate attempt to maintain composure. “It’s not something I’m very open about, not with this job. All I have is my reputation, and adding that to the mix would just…”
“Yeah, I get it,” she nodded. “I mean, I don’t get it, but I know what you’re saying. You don’t think it’s worth the risk.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “So, uh- I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell people about this.”
“I won’t say a word,” she assured him. “I’m a vault.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said dryly. “Emotionally too.”
“Oh, fuck off,” she rolled her eyes. “So you’re bi?” She asked. She knew he had dated women before, and it was recent enough that she assumed it wasn’t just some weird experiment.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “It’s a blast, being bisexual while in politics,” he joked sarcastically.
“I can imagine,” she chuckled. “And that’s why you don’t date men anymore?”
“Basically,” he shrugged. “It’s hard enough finding straight relationships in our positions. Gay relationships seem like a lost cause.”
“Fair enough. Trust me, I’ve given up, too,” she laughed. Doug paused and looked at her for a moment, his eyes cloudy and hesitant.
“Hey, Emily?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah?” She replied offhandedly before emptying her glass.
“What actually happened with him?” The question made her freeze, and she felt the familiar panic rise in her chest.
“What do you mean?” She asked, trying her best to control her micro expressions.
“You said you were reckless, stupid,” he explained. “And the way you said it, that’s not just regret from fooling around too young.”
“Doug,” she warned, looking a bit like a terrified, cornered animal.
“Emily, you can tell me,” he said gently. “You have never judged me despite all my nerdy, anxiety ridden bullshit. Whatever it is, I promise I won’t judge you.”
“I just-“ she paused, her breath uneven. “The only person I’ve ever told is Rossi, and that was fifteen years ago.”
“If you don’t feel comfortable-“
“No,” she interrupted. “I- I want to.”
“Okay,” he nodded, giving her the space to continue.
“The two of us were young, and like I said, incredibly reckless,” she started. “Except only I had to pay the price. Him? He ran for the hills,” she shook her head, subconsciously biting her lip.
“You mean…”
“Yeah.” She blinked a few times as she tried to push back the memories.
“Em,” he murmured. She had never heard him address her so softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she brushed off. “I mean, it was almost 40 years ago.”
“Still, you were young,” he said sympathetically. “You must’ve been so scared.”
“Terrified,” she confirmed. “But I had Matthew— my best friend,” she explained. “He helped me… take care of it.”
“He sounds like a good friend.”
“Yeah, he was,” she smiled sadly. “I don’t like to talk about it though. It’s not just personal, it’s controversial. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how you were going to react.”
“Emily, I would never judge you for anything like that. I have no place in that discussion.”
“That’s… refreshing,” she admitted. “You’ve always been so politically neutral that I kinda assumed the worst.”
“I’m neutral when it comes to my job,” he clarified. “I highly doubt the Bureau would appreciate me bringing up abortion laws during a press conference.”
“Yeah, you’d be fired on the spot,” she snorted.
“Exactly. My job requires neutrality, but personally? I’m all pro choice.”
“Huh,” she blinked. “Good to know.”
“Is it really that surprising?” He asked. “I was raised by libertarians.”
“Yeah, and now you’re second in command of the FBI,” she said dryly. “Forgive me for not assuming you hold all the beliefs you were brought up with.”
“That’s fair,” he shrugged. They both sat in silence, Emily staring down at her glass and Doug glancing at the near empty bottle. Suddenly, he started laughing.
“What?” Emily asked, a hint of amusement slipping into her tone.
“We are so drunk,” he shook his head through the laughter.
“We?” She challenged. “You mean you are so drunk.” She grasped the bottle of wine and poured the rest of its contents into her glass, her hand not quite stable enough to fake sobriety.
“You’re so full of shit, Prentiss,” he grinned. “I mean, look at that pour.” His gaze shifted, turning from teasing to something softer and more sincere.
“And I don’t think you would’ve told me that sober,” he whispered. Her eyes shot up, suddenly hyper aware of everything that had been shared. Doug seemed to sense her uneasiness and reached across the desk, gently placing a hand on her arm.
“But I’m glad that you did.”
Emily swallowed hard, the buzz from the alcohol amplifying her emotions. She wasn’t sure how it happened, how Douglas Bailey went from being an obnoxious, overconfident bureaucrat to one of the only people outside her team she chose to let in. She trusted him, God knows why, but she did. After tonight, it was clear he trusted her too.
“Yeah,” she nodded, trying her best to keep the tears from swelling in her eyes. “I’m glad too.”