You and Emily had been dating for 4 years now, and to say you knew her would be an understatement.

You'd helped her through being beaten by Benjamin Cyrus, the death of her childhood best friend, Matthew Benton, countless rough cases, and most recently, readjusting to being back at the BAU, after having to fake her death to keep you and the rest of the team safe from Ian Doyle, an enemy she'd previously made before joining the FBI.

Now, just a day after almost being blown up twice, you watched as she stood by the side of the dancefloor Rossi had set up in his back-yard for JJ's wedding, of which most of the guests and their plus one's were currently dancing on. No real thought behind her glassy eyes.

She didn't want to leave for London, but everything felt different; like she didn't belong in the BAU anymore. Though, while she and everyone else on the team knew it wasn't anyone's fault, it didn't make this feeling of abandoning the family she'd made here, any easier. Interpol was her only option

Emily's train-of-thought was broken by you tapping on her shoulder. She plastered on a small smile she's sure you'd be able to see through, as she turned to you, and put her now empty champagne glass on the huge table that had been set up on Rossi's patio

"Hey," Emily said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Sorry, I didn't see you come over."