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Doug Bailey knew Emily Prentiss was unpredictable. He had known before he even met her; everyone knew about the hard-headed, rebellious Agent Prentiss. She was practically allergic to authority, and she had nearly given Doug a heart attack a million times with her bold decisions. You would think at this point he would’ve learned to expect the unexpected, but it seemed like each day she found a new way to leave him speechless.
He was just stopping by to drop off a file. That’s it. Just one quick, simple task, no chaos necessary. But, of course, things were never simple when it came to Emily.
“Prentiss, I have that- the f-“ He came to a dead stop, eyes widening in surprise. The gray haired woman was standing behind her desk wearing only one shoe. The other was thrown haphazardly across the room as if it had personally offended her.
“What are you doing?” He choked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She asked, ripping off the remaining heel and chucking it on the floor next to the other.
“I… honestly have no idea,” he said. She rolled her eyes with a scoff.
“Tara was calling me a wine addict earlier.”
“You are a wine addict,” he deadpanned. She shot him a glare.
“You are not helping,” she huffed. “Anyway, apparently she thought it would be funny to put the last bottle of my favorite wine all the way up above my cabinets.”
“Ah,” he said, looking up at where she was pointing. Sure enough, there was an expensive looking bottle of red shoved all the way back against the wall on top of the highest shelving.
“Yeah, so I’m gonna kill her,” she groaned. “But first, I’m getting this bottle.”
“How?” He blurted out. “I mean,” he quickly covered, “it’s not like you’re as tall as Lewis.”
“Yeah, no shit,” she drawled. “Why do you think my heels are off?”
“What do you-“ He looked down at her bare feet, then at the chair she was leaning on, and it clicked. “Prentiss, no.”
“Why not?” She asked nonchalantly.
“Because it’s dangerous! You’re not standing on a rolling chair.”
“You can’t stop me,” she argued.
“You’re in a pencil skirt, Prentiss,” he said, looking her up and down.
“I am, aren’t I?” A mischievous smirk appeared on her face. “So if you wanna stick around, be my guest.”
He tried to look annoyed, but there was no hiding the flustered expression on his face. There was no denying that Emily was insanely attractive, but he tried to ignore it most of the time. She was his subordinate, and he couldn’t afford to entertain any inappropriate thoughts, especially not when he was still new to the job.
Emily placed a firm hand on the top of the chair and pushed down. He assumed she was checking the stability, as if it was even necessary to check if a chair with wheels would be stable enough to stand on. Somehow her warped, insanely confusing brain must’ve decided it was good enough, because she planted one foot on the chair. She gripped the backrest with one hand and the cabinet with the other to pull herself up.
“Prentiss,” he sighed halfheartedly. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. Because she could fall, sure, but mostly because this angle was giving him a view that was very difficult to ignore. Fuck her and that tight skirt and her obnoxiously nice ass for challenging his professionalism.
“Save your breath, Bailey,” Emily grumbled as she straightened her posture. “I don’t need a lecture.”
“I wasn’t going to lecture you,” he rasped, his breath catching in his throat as she leaned closer to the cabinets.
“You always lecture me,” she argued as she reached for the bottle. “If anyone deserves to get chewed out for this, it’s Tara. She needs to learn-“
Emily let out an involuntary gasp as she lost her balance. The sound broke Doug out of his daze, and he was by her side in a second.
“Emily,” he exhaled, steadying her with one hand on her forearm and the other around her waist. She responded immediately by grabbing his shoulder, the ends of her silver hair ghosting his face.
“Okay, okay,” she whispered to herself. She was panting slightly, likely due to surprise and adrenaline, and his eyes latched onto the rise and fall of her chest.
“You okay?” He asked, subconsciously gripping her a little tighter.
“Mmhmm,” she nodded, not daring to move.
They stayed frozen in place for a few more seconds until Doug realized he was staring. And still holding her. And standing way too close considering the places his brain was going. He hastily removed his hand from her waist, but he kept the one on her arm, just to make sure she was stable.
“I’m fine,” she claimed, likely noticing his hesitance.
“Good. Now, get down,” he demanded. He took a step back and offered his hand.
“But I still need to-“
“Emily,” he groaned, “I will get it for you. Just get off the damn chair.” She glanced at him, then back at the bottle, then rolled her eyes.
“Fine,” she mumbled. She accepted his hand and stepped down.
“Thank you,” he huffed.
“The wine,” she said pointedly, placing her hands on her hips.
“You’re ridiculous,” he grumbled. He reached for the bottle anyway with little effort, muttering something about how he couldn’t believe he was helping her drink on the clock.
“Here. Happy?” He questioned sarcastically as he handed her the bottle. She took it from his hands. Then she studied him, looking the way she always did when she was trying to figure something out. He hated the way it made his pulse quicken.
“How tall are you?” She asked slowly, as though she had just realized he was a full head taller than her.
“Six-two ish,” he shrugged. “Why?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever stood next to you without heels,” she explained casually.
“I’m a lot taller than you even with the heels, Prentiss.”
“Sure, but this tall?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you have some useful qualities after all.”
A part of him wanted to be offended, to argue that he was actually very good at his job and an important asset to the Bureau, but all he could do is stand there like an idiot and hope his cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt. He couldn’t help but smile as he responded.
“You really are something else,” he shook his head.
“And you love it,” she smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. His mouth went completely dry. He was at a complete loss for words, and she knew it.
“Anyway, thanks for the file,” she said before biting her lip.
“Uh- yeah,” he responded lamely. “I should- I should probably-“
“Yes,” she interrupted. “You should go do whatever men in your position do when they aren’t checking me out.” He nearly choked as he registered the words.
“Wait, no… Prentiss… I wasn’t-“
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” she grinned. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Douglas.” She took a pause and tilted her head. “But for the record,” she lowered her voice, the sound scraping at the bottom of her register, “I don’t mind it.”
Doug stared blankly. He must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights, but with the way she was talking, there was no way he could avoid freezing up.
“Enjoy your meetings,” she said nonchalantly, crossing the room to grab her heels. He turned away before he could witness her bend over to pick them up; he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle that sight.
As he left her office, Doug only had one thought, just one word.
Fuck.