measurements.
that afternoon—post farmers market nap, and post meltdown—because aria did not get to say “bye bye” to her jayje.
no, emily did not miss the way aria has begun to put my in front of jj’s name, by the way.
it had all been fine at first. the transition from the stroller to the car had been seamless . aria was out cold , limbs limp as emily and jj worked together to get her buckled in. emily had barely needed jj’s help, but jj had still hovered , making sure aria’s little head didn’t loll in an uncomfortable way, smoothing a stray curl away from her face before emily finally shut the car door. aria didn’t stir once. and emily? she had let herself believe that this would be easy. rookie mistake.
she pulls into the driveway after driving back, shifting the car into park, taking a brief moment to sit in the silence, listening to the soft sounds of aria breathing deeply in the backseat. she sighs, rubbing her hands over her face before unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out, moving around to the back door. opening it gently , she crouches down, reaching in, her hands moving automatically as she carefully lifts aria out of her car seat, cradling her small frame against her chest.
for a moment—just a moment—it’s peaceful . aria’s head rests on her shoulder, her little arms dangling , her breath still steady, still deep . but then as emily steps inside, shutting the door behind them—aria stirs .
a tiny shift, a small whimper. and then, full-on, heartbreaking wailing.
aria’s little body stiffens , her hands grabbing at emily’s shirt, her face pressing desperately into her shoulder as she sobs .
emily freezes in shock. at how fast at happens. at the volume of it, because this isn’t her normal post-nap whine. this is something else .
"baby, hey - hey what’s wrong?" emily murmurs, rubbing a soothing hand over aria’s back, trying to calm her. but aria is inconsolable .
"no no no no! " she cries, voice breaking between sobs. "no! no bye bye! "
emily pauses .
aria rubs her eyes , pulling back just enough for emily to see her little face, her cheeks wet , her lips wobbling.
"no bye bye jayje… "
emily exhales , understanding immediately . she didn’t get to tell jj bye. one second she was here, and the other? she wasn’t, and aria was back at home. god, it’s so big . aria, who doesn’t get attached to people easily , who is so particular about who she lets in— h eartbroken that she didn’t get to say goodbye to jj.
emily doesn’t think . she shifts aria slightly in her arms, reaching for her phone, unlocking it with one hand as she moves toward the couch.
“okay..hey, listen lets see if jj made it home- okay? yeah, lets do that..”
she barely even processes what she’s doing as she pulls up jj’s contact, trying to soothe aria as she types out a quick text.
emily: did you get home okay?
jj responds almost immediately .
jj: yeah! just got settled. what about you guys?
emily sighs, shaking her head.
emily: yeah, but we’re currently having slight meltdown because someone didn’t get to say bye to you.
she barely even has a second to think before jj’s response comes through.
jj: want me to facetime her?
emily: yes. please.
her phone vibrates with an incoming facetime call, and emily shifts, turning the screen so aria can see . the second jj’s face appears— aria sniffles , blinking up at the screen, her little fingers reaching out, touching jj’s face through the glass.
"jayje…"
jj melts , her face softening . aria’s little face is red, cheeks wet with tears - her lip wobbling against its own will at this point.
"hey, sweetheart," jj murmurs, her voice so gentle .
aria sniffs again , rubbing at her eyes. " i no s-say bye bye, jayje… "
emily’s chest tightens . but jj smiles , shifting slightly as she gets comfortable.
"well, guess what?" jj says. "im here now! we can get a proper ‘bye bye’ in. and im sure, we’re gonna see each other again really soon."
aria’s little face lights up , her hands gripping the edge of emily’s phone, like she needs to hold onto this moment.
" pwomise? "
jj nods, serious .
"promise."
aria nods back , clearly satisfied , finally starting to relax in emily’s arms. they talk for a few more minutes—aria wiggling like a worm in emily’s lap, still excited , still too happy to sit still now that she’s gotten what she needed, and emily doesn’t mind. because she also gets to see jj again, even if it’s just through her phone screen. as they wrap up, aria gets to say the most important thing. the thing that made her crumble at the drop of a hat.
“bye bye, jayje.”
“bye bye, aria.”
and after they hang up, jj sends her a text almost immediately .
jj: i had fun today with you both. maybe you can join me next weekend if you’re free.
emily smiles , barely even processing before another text comes through.
jj: also, if she ever wants to talk to me, you can call me. i don’t mind.
emily: i think we’d both enjoy that. thank you jj.
emily exhales and sets her phone on the side table , looking over at aria, who just moments later has already moved on, in deep concentration. her little brows furrowed in that distinct prentiss way, her tiny hands gripping a wooden spoon as she stirs an imaginary pot in her small wooden kitchen.
the kitchen is new, only a few weeks old, something emily put together after the nanny at daycare mentioned how much aria loved playing kitchen. emily figured—why not? aria loved to mimic. loved to stand in the kitchen while emily cooked, her tiny hands gripping the edge of the counter, watching, observing, soaking everything in. so, a play kitchen made sense.
what didn’t make sense, however— was why the fuck ikea’s directions were made for sociopaths.
the night emily put it together was one of the worst experiences of her life—and she’s been kidnapped before.
step one: open the box. easy.
step two: lay out all the parts. …suspicious. there are too many pieces for a four-foot kitchen set.
step three: realize they gave her the wrong screws. drink half a glass of wine. find the right screws.
step four: ikea’s cryptic instructions say “insert part a into slot b”—but where the fuck is part a? where is slot b?
step five: drink the other half of the wine.
step six: stare at the pieces of wood in pure fury, because she’s a federal agent with an iq high enough to join mensa, but somehow can’t figure out how to put together a play kitchen.
step seven: curse so much that sergio leaves the room entirely.
step eight: finally, somehow, after a full three hours, an entire bottle of wine, and a dramatic monologue about how she could dismantle a bomb faster than she could finish this stupid kitchen—it’s done.
she sits on the floor, legs splayed out, sweaty, exhausted, and emotionally drained, staring at the innocent, completed wooden kitchen, hating it but also proud of it.
aria better fucking love this.
and of course—aria does. she adores it.
and now, here she is, standing in front of it, pretending to cook, the soft clinking of tiny wooden pots and pans filling the air, her little voice humming a quiet tune to herself as she “stirs” something in a bowl. the play kitchen sits by the opening that leads into the actual kitchen and dining room, exactly where emily placed it for a reason—because sometimes, aria likes to pretend cook while emily is actually cooking.
and fuck, if that isn’t the most endearing thing in the world. emily watches her for a moment, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. but then, something catches her eye. the crown molding on the doorframe. bare, untouched - never marked. a space where something should be, but isn’t. their mother never did it for emily when she was younger, like she saw all of the moms on tv shows do.
emily’s chest tightens slightly, because it hits her all at once—this is aria’s home. forever. she’s not going anywhere. she’s going to grow up in this house. in this kitchen. in this living room, and emily wants something to show that. something that marks each moment in time emily is sure she will miss one day.
she doesn’t think twice— just moves , gathering the supplies she needs, pulling out a marker and a measuring tape, her mind already set.
“bug,” she calls, glancing over at aria.
aria blinks up at her, her big brown eyes wide and curious, still clutching her wooden spoon.
“c’mere for a sec, baby.”
aria pauses, tilting her head slightly, then nods, setting her spoon down carefully before toddling over. emily crouches, smoothing a hand over aria’s hair.
“we’re gonna start something new, okay?” she murmurs. “i wanna measure how tall you are. and then we’ll do it again later, so we can see how much you grow.”
aria’s eyes widen further, her lips parting slightly in pure, toddler excitement.
“g’ow big? ” she whispers, like this is the greatest discovery ever.
emily nods, grinning.
“so big, bug.”
aria hums, shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking up at emily with curious eyes.
"what do?"
"mmm," emily nods, brushing a stray curl away from aria’s forehead. "stand really still for me, okay?"
aria considers this , her lips pursing slightly, her little fingers gripping the hem of her shirt.
"how?" she asks, her voice small, uncertain.
emily chuckles, smoothing a hand down aria’s arms, gently guiding them to rest at her sides.
"like this," emily demonstrates, rolling her shoulders back, standing as straight as possible.
aria tries , her little body stiffening in a way that is not quite right —her arms stuck out slightly, her chin tilted way too high. emily bites back a laugh , shaking her head.
"okay, baby—relax, relax," she murmurs, gently adjusting her. "feet flat on the floor, no tippy toes…and look straight ahead."
emily guides, tapping her chin lightly . aria nods , but she keeps glancing down at emily’s hand, then back up at emily , then at the marker —completely distracted. emily sighs playfully , pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
"baby, you gotta stay still."
aria whines softly , her little hands flapping slightly at her sides. "i try, emmy!"
emily laughs , nodding. "okay, okay. i know."
she finally lifts the marker , pressing it carefully against the wood, making the mark as quickly as she can before aria wiggles out of position again.
"all done," emily announces, pulling back.
aria gasps , turning too fast, nearly tripping over her own feet as she leans forward , pressing her small hands against the doorframe.
"dat me?"
"yep," emily murmurs, something warm settling in her chest. "that’s you."
aria stares at it, her fingers brushing over the tiny marker mark, the one that represents her —right now , in this moment, at this age.
and emily— emily feels it hit her all at once . this is where she grows -and for the first time, it really sinks in. the permanence of it. the weight of it. this little marker mark —something so small , so simple —holds everything . but then it chokes her up within seconds . because that’s aria . right now. that exact height . that exact little frame . but next month?
she won’t be that little marker mark anymore.
she’ll be just barely above it— a little bigger, stretching out in the way toddlers do, growing too fast for emily to even process until she compares, and that moment— this moment —will be gone.
emily presses her thumb gently against the mark next to aria’s, rubbing over it like she can hold onto it , like she can pause time if she just presses hard enough . but she can’t. she knows she can’t . so she swallows, clears her throat, and pulls the marker back up. next to the line, in careful, steady handwriting, she writes:
ARIA—2 YEARS OLD, MARCH 2005
when she steps back, she stares at it . solid. permanent. real.
aria hums , pleased with her results, nodding to herself like she just completed something very important .
"i big."
emily chuckles , blinking quickly before crouching down, pulling aria into her.
" you’re so big, bug. "
aria leans in , pressing her face against emily’s shoulder - before mumbling.
“next time… i g’ow taller?”
“yeah, bug,” emily murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “you’re gonna grow so much.”
aria hums again, tilting her head up toward emily.
“you do too?”
emily blinks, caught off guard, because she wasn’t expecting that. aria, in all her toddler logic, assumes they grow together. emily swallows past the sudden lump in her throat, shaking her head softly.
“no, baby,” she murmurs, smoothing a hand over aria’s back. “i don’t grow anymore.”
she wants to tell aria no one did this for her; that she would show aria the marks of her through the years to help her better understand, if she could.
aria frowns slightly, like this is a little sad - like she can somehow read emily’s mind , but then—she grabs emily’s hand, holding it tightly in both of hers, small but certain.
“i g’ow for us,” she declares.
and emily—she has to take a deep breath to steady herself, because fuck—this child, her child - this little thing she wasn’t supposed to have responsibility of but somehow ended up with. aria is going to grow, and change, and be okay because emily will make sure of it . and god—emily is so fucking lucky she gets to watch it happen.