His handshake is firm and dry—a short, professional shake. He takes two envelopes out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Now, I know it’s a little soon after St. Elizabeths—I’m aware that you’re both recovering. But there’s about to be some… rearrangements at the Quantico field office. I’m setting up a number of new units, specializing in different areas pertinent to Behavioral Science, and I’d like to continue the work that Agent Cooper started.”

He hands them both envelopes.

Emma squeezes hers—it’s heavy with papers. “Uh, Mr. Carter…”

“No. Please.” He raises a hand. His palm is very pink against his black skin. “Don’t give me an answer just yet. I’d really like you both to take a while to look over these documents. And I imagine you need to take a while just thinking about whether this is something you want.”

The bureau has never before asked Emma about the things she wants. Carter has surprised her, which is hard to do these days.

“Anyway,” Carter says, “that’s the whole spiel. Thanks for hearing me out. There’s a card in the envelope with my number on it, if you need to call.”

“How long do we have to think it over?” Bell asks.

Carter is in the process of turning, but he turns back to answer. Now his smile is more relaxed. “Take your own sweet time, Mr. Bell. I believe you’ve both earned it.”

He walks off.

Once he’s given them some distance, Emma weighs the envelope in her hand. “Wow. Okay. That was… different. What do you think it means?”

Bell watches Carter make his way back up the church steps. “I think it means the bureau is trying to headhunt us. Again.”

“What if we don’t want to be headhunted?”

“Emma.” Bell looks over at her. For a long moment, just the sound of the breeze in the leaves nearby. Then he tucks his envelope into his inside jacket pocket. “I don’t know what you want to do with this. I think I know what I want to do. But whatever you decide, you know where I am. Any old time, any crazy situation…” He looks away, and grinning properly now, looks back. “I’m saying you can call me, Lewis. I’m here if you need.”

He sticks his hand out. Emma shakes it. His hand is warmer than Carter’s. Their fingers hold for just that little bit longer.

“Travel safe,” she whispers. “Look after yourself, Travis.”

“You too, Emma. Travel safe.”

Bell smiles, bites his lip. Then he turns and walks back the way he came.

Emma watches him go. Then she turns, too, not toward the church, but back to face the view down the street.

The old oak hums nearby. Three paces take her up to it, and she puts her hand on the trunk to steady herself. Rough bark under her palm, and she’s reminded of the trees near Quantico.

She tries not to think about Bell.

Do you think you’re self-aware, Emma?