"Damn it..." Emily said, walking the hallway towards a cell she know very well since some times.

She swore to not come back. And she really did try not to. But her feets had other plans.

You were a serial killer, that the BAU caught two years ago. You killed only criminals who slipped through the justice system's cracks without impunity for more than twenty years, while acting as a normal person who made the joy of your family, friends and coworkers.

Emily was the one who caught you. Because more, than anyone, she understood you and knew how it was to pretend.

Maybe that's why she see you as some kind of kindred spirit and kept coming to see whenever she needed help on a case.

She even tolerated your flirts, numerous playful jabs you prepared in advance and random facts about you, your life and kills, who may or may not be true half the time.

She was the Clarice to your Hannibal, like you always said.

She glared at you when she saw you smirk, as if you knew she would come.

As always.

"I need help. There's that serial thief. In Quantico."

Damn you.... And damn her for needing you.