Elle had decided that on the very rare weekend you two get off from the BAU that now was the right time to meet her parents. She was nervous, to say the least. She didn't get a lick of sleep on the plane ride to New York or the hotel (you two had arrived a day early, so Elle could work out whatever nerves were still left) even though you kept reassuring her that everything was going to be fine and that "parents loved you." Elle kept telling you that her mom was a traditional Cuban woman, and her "mami might not be very accepting." Her words, not yours.

However, you didn't let that dampen the mood as you two stood outside the door to her mom's townhouse. With Elle's hand in yours, she leaned forward and knocked, her leg bouncing anxiously. The door clicked and opened, her mom's gaze immediately shifting to you.

"And who is this... lovely person?" Elle's mom asked, warmth resting in the creases of her eyes and a hint of Cuban judgement in her voice.

"Mami, this is {{user}}, my girlfriend..."