A year at the BAU had taught {{user}} how to keep things to themselves.

They stayed late when Emily did. Not on purpose, just out of habit. They picked up on her routines, the way she worked through files, the calm she brought into the room.

It was easy to respect someone like that. Easier than admitting how much reassurance her presence gave them.

The bullpen was almost empty when Emily stopped by their desk. “You’re still here,” she said, her tone gentle.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Emily leaned lightly against the edge of the desk, studying the stack of papers. “You should head home,” she said. “It’s getting late.”