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Emily sipped her glass, savouring the burn as the silky liquid slid down her throat warming her insides. Just one. Just have one to take the edge off, then go home and get a good sleep. She drew in a deep breath, held it in until her ribcage ached, then slowly let it slip past her lips. Rubbing a finger over the rim of her glass, she shook her head out slowly, smiling bitterly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t the first time her mother drove her to drink, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last if her entire life was any indication. Their relationship boiled down to Emily disappointing her mother. When she was a little girl, she was too quick witted. She couldn’t help the glaze of disinterest seep into her eyes as she stood near her mother at gala after gala listening to old politicians drone on about who knows what. In these moments when her mind started to drift, her mother would pinch her in places that would need straightening. A pinch to the back had it ramrod straight in the blink of an eye. One to the forearm drew her hands to clasp elegantly together in front of her. But it was the look she’d get from across sprawling lawns of whatever extravagant estate they were at that would have her stomach dropping so fast she was at risk of being sick all over the immaculate grounds. The way her mother’s arms would cross over her chest when she would hike her skirt up too high as she ran with the children of other diplomats told her she had truly disappointed her. In those moments, the slice of happiness she’d found with the other kids faded away faster than it took for her skirt to ripple back in place around her ankles.

As she got older, her quick wit turned to poorly disguised surly sarcasm, she’d repeatedly break into the cabinet that kept all the expensive alcohol, smoked cigarette after cigarette even though she hated them, and her skirt ended up bunched around her hips more times and with more boys than a fifteen-year-old had any business being with. That was when she couldn’t completely blame her mother for the look of disdain she got as she stood, arms crossed, next to Emily’s hospital bed as the doctor explained the damage the back-alley abortion had done to her. It was knowing that the infection she had gotten had most likely wiped out the possibility of getting pregnant again that made her realize the only person she was truly hurting with her behaviour was herself.

That was also the moment she told herself if she could just get away from her mother, she’d finally be happy. So, once she had fought the infection and was back in school, she worked. Hard. She spent every moment studying. She badgered her teachers for extra credit assignments so she’d be able to pick up her grades enough to actually pass the tenth grade. Which she did. Then she went on to eleventh and took an Introduction to Law class because her mother had looked at her with something other than mild indifference over the dinner table when she mentioned it. But that class opened her eyes to the criminology side of law rather than the politics side and in twelfth, she took a criminology elective. The normal look of indifference turned to disgust as she told her mother she didn’t want to go into politics and her arms crossed when Emily’s acceptance letter to Yale came in the mail. Her mother never showed up to her graduation. She never heard Emily’s valedictory speech.

When Emily packed up her things and moved into her dorm room, the only goodbye she got was a letter from her mother who was overseas telling her that if she expected to do a second year at Yale then she needed to get a job and pay for it herself. So, Emily continued to work hard. She barely slept that first year, spending almost all her time outside of the classroom at the twenty-four-hour diner around the corner from campus to save up enough money for some of her tuition and a head start on rent for the next year. Four years later she was used to sleep deprivation and ignored the damage she most likely did to her insides from all the pain medication she took to fight off sleep headaches and the ache in her overworked limbs. When she graduated, she didn’t expect to see her mother there, however it didn’t sting any less. What really stung was when her mother requested her to come home for the summer after not seeing her for eighteen months and being kicked out before their first meal together was over because she hadn’t ‘come to her senses and chosen a different path for her graduate program’. She didn’t even tell her mother she was accepted at Georgetown, although she probably still knew. So, when she finally walked through those doors for the last time with a diploma in hand and a mountain of debt to deal with, her mother barely even crossed her mind. At least that’s what she told herself.

When it came time to job hunt, Emily tried to ignore the way her interviewer’s eyes lit up as they asked her if she was related to Ambassador Prentiss. She tried to shake the pit in her stomach that told her even with all her hard work, she’d never know if she made it because of that hard work or because of her mother’s last name. When her mother showed up at her apartment, unannounced, and told her she’d talked to so and so with the Department of Defense about her interview, Emily knew that she’d never escape her mother’s influence. Especially not in Washington, DC. So, she packed her bags and turned her sights internationally. She knew her name would catch up to her at some point, but she was hoping to be able to land a job before that happened. When she got through the interview with Interpol and no one did a double take at her name, she felt herself relax somewhat. When she got the job and hadn’t heard from her mother, she relaxed a little more. A few months later and she’d been assigned to JTF-12 and the leader of the team, Clyde, was surprised to hear who her mother was, she fully let the tension leave her shoulders.

However, soon enough, she received the first phone call from her mother since she’d left the states. All her hard work trying to get herself to where she was, meant nothing to her mother. She was still as disappointed with Emily as if she was that scared fifteen-year-old who just wanted to fit in and didn’t know how else to feel accepted and wanted. So, she figured what else did she have to lose and told her mother that she was gay. Might as well lay everything on the table. She was only met with silence and the click of the phone as her mother hung up on her. She tried to tell herself that didn’t hurt because she really didn’t expect any other response. But it did. It hurt as those familiar childhood feelings of being unwanted settled, once more, around her heart and kept it in a firm grip.

For ten years that fist has been gradually growing tighter and tighter like a boa constrictor. Each time she was called emotionally unavailable, the fist tightened. Each Christmas or birthday she spent alone. Doyle. Declan. Every time her heart pumped with pain, the fist tightened, patiently waiting for her to give up and let it crush her. The grip was so tight that she found it hard to breath. Her skin crawled with unease. She couldn’t do it anymore. She needed a change. So, she quit and went back to the states. She figured her mother’s name was still going to have it’s pull, but now she had her own experience and her own reputation to back herself up.

When the director of the FBI called her personally, it was her name that got her application in front of him, but it was her experience that had him offering her a position in the Behaviour Analysis Unit as a “transfer”. This phone call had her struggling and winning slightly against the tightness in her chest. She was wanted enough as a profiler for a fake FBI file containing all the details of the last decade she’d spent behind a desk for various departments to be fabricated for her.

But of course, it was only a matter of time before her mother resurfaced. After ten years of silence, her mother barged into her life like a wrecking ball ready to destroy whatever was left behind her ribcage.

“So, you’re back in DC.” Her mother stood in her entryway leering at the too small pile of unpacked boxes. You’d think I’d have more stuff for almost thirty-five years on this Earth.

“I am.” Emily resisted a sarcastic bite.

Her mother crossed her arms. “And you’re going to work with the FBI.” Emily suppressed an eye roll and turned away from her mother to move towards the kitchen. Unfortunately, her mother followed her.

“I am.” Emily finally answered, again.

“Don’t you think you’re getting too old to be playing cat and mouse with criminals?” Her mother looked at her with that all too familiar look of disdain.

“I don’t know, but I know you are way too old to try to tell me what to do.” Emily crossed her arms in front of her chest trying to mirror her mother’s look. It didn’t feel right so instead she leaned against the counter and gripped the edge on either side tighter than necessary.

Her mother just shook her head and looked away. “We both know I haven’t been able to tell you what to do since you were a child.” Emily could practically see the montage of sour memories flash behind her mother’s eyes. She heard The Ambassador let out a quiet sigh before turning back to face Emily. “I’m only trying to look out for you. Italy was a mess. I just think it’s time you step away from that life.”

Emily froze. “How do you know about that?” She said quietly.

“I know it’s been a while, but I still am an ambassador.” She leveled her with her usual look. “I also know about Berlin, and Paris. Turkey, now that one was a doozy.” Her mother said mockingly.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. Emily resisted the urge to rub a hand over the ache in her chest. Instead, she scrubbed a hand roughly down her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to offer you a job.” Elizabeth said with a shrug of her shoulder.

Emily scrunched her face in confusion. “In politics?” She dragged out the last word.

“Yes.” Elizabeth gave her a firm nod.

We’re still doing this? Emily shook her head and pushed off from the counter. “Why?” She moved to the box on her kitchen table and started unpacking it roughly.

“Like I said, you’re getting too old for this type of life. Going into politics is safer.” Her mother brushed her hair out of her face in a look of complete indifference.

Too old my ass. I’m not even thirty-five yet. Emily shook her head once more, in frustration this time and turned away from the box to square up with her mother. She straightened her spine, crossed her arms over her chest, and let a steely mask fall in front of her eyes. “And why would you care about that?” Emily clenched her jaw and watched the way her words twisted her mother’s ever-present expression of mild indifference.

Elizabeth’s lips formed a firm line, her eyes went colder than usual. “You’re my daughter, of course I care.” Each word was said forcefully through clenched teeth.

Emily just shrugged a shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Elizabeth’s features softened out slightly. She raised her eyebrows and looked to the floor. After a moment she nodded her head and met Emily’s hard gaze. “Well, I can see this is getting us nowhere. I’ll be going. The offer is always on the table.” And with that she turned on her heel and left. Only when she heard the click of the door did Emily’s posture soften. Really it softened so much she had to slump into one of the kitchen chairs and laid her forehead on the table.

That’s how Emily found herself at the bar across the street from her new apartment building. She swirled the liquid around the edges of her glass trying to figure out what her mother’s thought process was because the idea that she was just concerned that Emily’s job was too dangerous was absolutely ridiculous. Everything was about images and although Emily may not be doing what her mother wanted her to do, she just couldn’t see how being an Interpol agent or an FBI agent was harmful to whatever Elizabeth wanted the world to see.

She thought about fifteen-year-old Emily that thought all she needed to be happy was independence from her mother. She truly had that now and yet, she still didn’t feel happy. Happier, but not happy.

With a deep breath and another sip, Emily figured she’d spent enough brain power on her mother for the evening and set her sights on her surroundings. It was early enough in the evening that the place was practically a ghost town, filled only with people who took it for their second home and a few others that sat alone staring into their glasses much the same as she must be.

She turned her attention back to the remaining bit of liquid in her glass. With a sigh, she brought it to her lips to drain it and get out of there but froze when something caught her eye on the other side of the bar counter. A woman with wavy golden blonde hair fiddled with a crumbled straw, wrapping it around her finger then unwinding, over and over, as she stared into nothingness. Emily could tell even from a distance that her ocean-blue eyes were not as vibrant as they could be. Everything about her demeanour screamed that she had something heavy on her mind.

Emily could feel her own eyes glazing over as she blatantly stared at the woman and didn’t notice quick enough when she sat back on her barstool and lifted her head. Emily’s eyes snapped away awkwardly falling on her glass that was still poised in front of her face. She quickly put her glass down which gave a louder than necessary clunk against the bar top. She resisted a cringe and told herself there was no way any of the other four incredibly silent patrons had noticed anything.

Trying to play it cool, she lifted the glass once more to her mouth intent on actually finishing it this time. She slammed the liquid but caught the woman watching her. All proper function in her body ceased to work and resulted in a wild coughing fit as the burning liquid followed every path except the one it was supposed to. She scrambled for the tiny, borderline useless, napkin to cover as much of her face as possible as she tried to clear her lungs and nose of the offending liquid. I’m dying. This is what death feels like.

“Can we get a water, please?” If she weren’t about to physically expire from the burning in her face, both from the scotch and the embarrassment, she may have appreciated the dulcet quality of the voice next to her ear. “You okay? Need anything? Pat on the back? Heimlich? Mouth to mouth?”

Emily swivelled to see the blonde leaning against the bar with an easy smirk. “The water will do.” Emily wheezed as the bartender set a glass in front of her. She took a few sips avoiding the woman’s gaze as much as possible.

“You know, you could’ve been more subtle if you wanted me to come over to you.” The woman continued to smirk as she settled onto the bar stool next to her.

Emily managed a snort of laughter, which felt like razorblades. “Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, it wouldn’t have taken much.” The woman blatantly looked Emily up and down appreciatively.

“Good to know. But for now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out how to get a gallon of scotch out of my nose, eyes, and ears and then go drown myself in it.” Emily gave the woman a nod and gathered her coat and purse. The smirk was off the woman’s face and in its place was a subtle grimace. Emily quirked her head as she surveyed the woman. She’s disappointed? Her eyes widened a fraction in realization. She’s coming onto me? “Just how much would it have taken?”

The woman scrunched her face in confusion for a moment before giving a breathy laugh. “Very, very little. Like a wave woulda done it.” She gave her a shrug and goofy smile that contrasted so perfectly with the sexy smirk she had on before. Emily felt her cheeks heat up even more.

You already embarrassed the hell out of yourself so what could it hurt? “Wanna get some air?” Emily tilted her head towards the door.

“Please. It smells like feet in here.” Emily snorted another painful laugh as the woman grabbed her own belongings and followed Emily to the door. Once outside, Emily started walking in the opposite direction of her apartment building. The woman fell into step beside her, and they slowly strolled down the street. After a few minutes, the woman broke the silence. “What’s your name?”

“Emily.” Emily bundled her coat tighter around herself. It was an unseasonably cold night for September.

“Do you have a last name, Emily?” The woman gave her another smirk. Emily pursed her lips and then shook her head slowly. “Okay, fair enough.” She didn’t look like she loved Emily’s answered but went along with it anyways.

“What about you? Do you have a first name?”

The woman laughed briefly but hesitated a moment. If Emily wasn’t a profiler, she wouldn’t have caught it. “Jennifer.” Emily didn’t question her hesitation the same way Jennifer didn’t.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Emily turned her head away and rolled her eyes. Lame. From the way Jennifer was pursing her lips, she thought so too. “So what brought you to an upscale place like that?” Emily jut a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bar.

Jennifer nodded her head side to side as she searched for an answer. “I don’t know really. I got out of work early today for the first time since I probably started, and I didn’t know where to go.” Jennifer’s pace faltered slightly and the look on her face screamed that she heard how much weight that simple statement had and hadn’t meant to say it.

Emily stared at Jennifer’s side profile as they fell in sync again. When the pink in her cheeks calmed slightly, Emily pushed. “I’m assuming that you felt like home wasn’t an option.”

“Not not an option, just not the option I wanted. What option I did want, I have no clue. I’m not making a lot of sense.” Jennifer ran a hand through her hair in slight frustration and gave her head a rough shake. “I’m sure you didn’t imagine talking about this when you asked me to leave the bar.”

Emily shrugged lazily. “I don’t mind. Really, I didn’t have much of a thought of what were doing. I was lonely and you looked lonely so I figured we could be less lonely together.” Emily heard Jennifer’s quiet snort of laughter but pressed on. “If you wanna talk, I’m more than happy to listen and offer, if welcomed, below average advice.” Jennifer gave her a half smile but didn’t say anything else.

“How’s your face feel?” Jennifer asked awkwardly.

“My face?” Emily cocked a head in confusion. Jennifer just brought a hand in front of her nose and jerked it away quickly with her fingers doing what can only be described as an explosion motion. “Ohh.” Emily dragged out the word in realization. “Like I snorted fire. Not the worst thing to come out of my nose but not the best either.” Emily cringed aggressively. “I don’t know why I said that.” Emily looked away so she didn’t have to see Jennifer’s reaction.

Jennifer chuckled. “I think pop hurts the most. All the bubbles.”

Emile’s head whipped around, and she felt a slow smile creep onto her face. “Hmm, yeah or sparkling waters. I’d say they’re spicier.”

Jennifer snorted. “Spicier?”

“Yeah, like more bubbles. They’re more “pokey”.” Emily dropped her air quotes real quick and once again looked away from Jennifer. Right now, you’re about as charming as a spoon. Come on, channel your inner Lauren. Emily sobered up immediately at that thought. No, Lauren is a lie. Lauren is fake. I don’t ever want to have to be Lauren again.

“Hmm.” Jennifer nodded thoughtfully. Emily side-eyed her trying to gage how much she was blowing it. “Or lemonade. Too acidic.” Jennifer turned to look at Emily. Their eyes met a moment before cracking up.

“What are we even talking about?” Emily gasped out.

“I don’t know.” Jennifer shook her head as she let a few more breathy laughs out. “I haven’t done this in so long.”

“What? You haven’t watched a stranger blow scotch out their nose, then agree to leave the bar with said stranger and compare which beverages suck the most to follow the same path as the scotch. You haven’t done this in a while? This is just a regular Tuesday for me.” Emily shrugged a shoulder and stuck her nose in the air snobbishly.

Jennifer snorted before bumping Emily’s shoulder. “Shut up. No, I meant talking to anyone outside of work.” Jennifer’s pace stuttered a moment before falling back in step with Emily and rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And we seem to be back where we started.” She said under her breath.

Emily just watched her as she mentally berated herself. Returning her attention ahead of them once more, Emily got an idea. “Come on.” Emily grabbed Jennifer’s wrist and tugged to get her to follow, which she did but much more reluctantly than when leaving the bar.

“What are we doing here?” Jennifer asked apprehensively.

“Swinging.” Emily ran to the swing set in the small park they’d come across. She plopped onto the swing and awkwardly started moving back and forth, not really getting anywhere but Emily felt the kid in her takeover. She smiled widely at Jennifer who was just staring at her with a little bit of amusement and a whole lot of skepticism. She thinks I might be nuts. Emily just laughed at that and closed her eyes. Leaning back, she tried pumping her legs the way she thought she was supposed to but again didn’t really go anywhere. She let out a giggle and opened her eyes again. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

“Have you never done this before?” Jennifer asked in astonishment.

Emily shook her head. “When I was a kid, my mother wouldn’t let me. Said it wasn’t ladylike to play on the swings. Or anything here for that matter.” Emily waved a hand around the various playground pieces.

Jennifer’s face softened to a look of affectionate amusement. “Let me show you.” She sat down on the swing next to Emily and showed her how to pump her legs to get herself moving. Emily couldn’t help the giggle of excitement that bubbled out of her chest as she started to get higher and higher. She could hear Jennifer chuckling along with her.

Eventually they both slowed down to a more leisurely swing. When she was down to more of a crawl, she felt safe enough to look over at the woman next to her who had a soft smile and a faraway look similar to the one she had at the bar. “You know,” Emily hesitated, “you can say whatever you need to. Tomorrow I may not matter to you so what do you have to lose?”

Jennifer scrunched her eyebrows slightly at Emily’s words before looking at her full on. “Give me a sec.” Emily gave her a nod and started up a slightly quicker pace but slow enough that when Jennifer started to talk, she wouldn’t miss anything. “My job has a funny way of creating parallels.” Emily nodded when Jennifer looked at her, indicating to her to go on. “It just makes you think about the hard stuff. The stuff you don’t want to dig up.” Emily nodded along with Jennifer, knowing all too well what that felt like. She paused like she was figuring out how to word what she was going to say next. “I guess I’m always just pushing everyone forward onto the next thing and when I was told today to stop and take a break, I didn’t really know what to do. Pushing forward, plugging away at the next thing, let’s me ignore some of the hard stuff. So, right now, some of it seems to be catching up with me and I realized when I left the office that I didn’t have anything to distract me. All of my closest friends are my colleagues, work takes up too much of my time to have any hobbies, and I have no family left. My home isn’t really a home. It’s just a place where I keep my clothes and sleep at occasionally, so I just kept driving and eventually came across that bar. I actually don’t even know where we are.” Jennifer chuckled darkly.

“Springfield.” Emily said quietly.

Jennifer’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Wow, I must have been really out of it. I live around Cherry Hill.”

“Not too far, but far enough.” Emily came to a stop and looked at Jennifer head on.

“So, I guess that’s my answer. I came to that bar to find a distraction.” Jennifer let out a big puff of air and leaned far back on her swing, her long wavy blonde hair almost grazing the pebbles underneath.

“And I’ve totally fucked it up.” Jennifer sat back up slightly and titled her head in question. Emily chuckled and pushed off the ground once more. “Not only have I made you talk about the thing you’re avoiding, I also don’t imagine your “distraction” involved hanging out in a kid’s playground. Which now that I’m saying it out loud, this is pretty weird isn’t it?” Emily cringed slightly.

Jennifer laughed matched Emily’s pace. “It’s not not weird. But hey, at least if I have to talk about it, I have a pretty good view.” Emily jerked her head back in confusion and looked out into the park. The view wasn’t all that great. Too dark to see anything. When Jennifer let out a snort of incredulous laughter, Emily looked back over to see her shaking her head. “I was talking about you.”

Emily’s face scrunched in mild disgust. “That wasn’t a very good line.”

Jennifer let out a howl of laughter. “No, I guess it wasn’t.” They swung together for a few moments in silence before Jennifer stopped again. “So, you mentioned your mom.” Emily laughed at the abrupt, not subtle in the slightest, segue. Jennifer smiled sheepishly because she knew Emily knew exactly what she was doing. Emily sobered up slightly and looked out over the park again. “You don’t have to tell me.” Jennifer said after a few moments.

Emily looked back over and saw Jennifer’s shoulders were hunched slightly forward, her eyes on the ground in front of her as she let herself rock back and forth. She’s uncomfortable. She feels vulnerable. Emily took a deep breath. Jennifer didn’t strike her as someone who spewed the inner workings of her thoughts and feelings very easily. Even what she did tell Emily only gave her part of the picture. Give her an inch.

“My mother is someone who never should have had kids.” Jennifer perked up in her swing. Emily gave her a small smile. “She’s an important person that needs to keep up a certain image and having a child is part of that image. It’s the natural progression in society’s eyes. So, I was used as a way to uphold how everyone saw her. I was told how to walk, talk, even friggen breathe in the way that made it seem like my mother had raised a perfect daughter. But I wasn’t perfect, and my mother never hesitated to tell me so.” Jennifer rested a hand on Emily’s knee. Emily figured she’d given enough but found herself feeling incredibly relieved to talk to someone about her childhood, so she kept going. “I tried really hard when I was a kid.” I just wanted my mother to love me. Emily felt like she’d been hit by a truck at the revelation. Obviously, she knew that must have been an underlying theme, but she’d never admitted it so plainly to herself. She swallowed roughly. “At some point I stopped trying and decided that avoiding my mother as much as possible was my healthiest option.” Emily was astonished at how freeing it felt to lift the lid on one of her little boxes. It also helped that Jennifer was a stranger, and it didn’t necessarily matter what secrets she told her today.

Jennifer squeezed Emily’s fingers in reassurance. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” She said quietly.

Emily just laughed sourly. “Today actually. That’s how I ended up at the bar. No matter how old I get, my mother has a way of making me feel like I’m seven years old. Like I’ve disgraced the family name. Like I’m a disappointment. Before today, it had been ten years since I spoke to her.” Jesus Prentiss, give her a mile why don’t you.

Jennifer’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. “That’s a long time. How’d you manage that?” Jennifer chuckled lightly, trying to bring some humour back into their conversation.

Emily placed a hand over the one that was on her knee and slotted their fingers together. “Well, living in a different country helps.” In her periphery she saw Jennifer’s head snap up.

“Where were you?” Crap. Too much.

“Europe mostly.”

“What did you do there?”

Emily’s grip loosened and she looked away. “Maybe that’s enough about work and difficult family members for now.” Emily gave Jennifer a half smile and pleaded with her eyes to let it go. Jennifer pursed her lips together but nodded as she looked away but didn’t let go of Emily’s hand.

After a few moments gently rocking in silence, Jennifer stood up and pulled Emily with her. “Seeing as we’re already two creepy grown ass adults hanging out in a children’s park, we might as well give you the whole experience.”

“Um.” Was all Emily had to offer as Jennifer dragged her over to the metal play set. Jennifer let go of her hand and quickly climbed up the spiral ladder. Once at the top, she turned around and crooked both pointer fingers at Emily. “I feel like the swings were one thing, but I am not standing up there behind that pirate wheel.” Emily deadpanned.

Jennifer howled with laughter and rolled her eyes. “Oh, get up here. Technically all of this was your idea.”

Emily grumbled as she heaved herself up the ladder. When she made it to the top Jennifer was smirking at her. “I would disagree with that.” God, she’s beautiful. She stood there a moment mesmerized by the wavy golden locks that fluttered lazily in the wind. Emily took a step closer to Jennifer who took a small step back towards the railing.

“Oh, would you now? Who dragged who into this park?” Jennifer raised one eyebrow that further accentuated her smirk. Her eyes were bright and playful, and Emily couldn’t help but notice the difference in them now versus when she saw her from across the bar.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a thirty-four-year-old, very professional woman who was raised by the highest standards of society. I would never drag someone anywhere, let alone a children’s swing set.” Emily mockingly stuck her nose in the air which finally had Jennifer releasing what could only be described as a giggle. Grinning at the sound, she took another step forward and put her hands on either side of Jennifer, resting on the railing behind her. Emily kept pressing forward until they were chest to chest. Jennifer’s eyes flickered briefly down to Emily’s lips and back up again. Jennifer placed her hands on Emily’s hips, giving them a little tug. She leaned them back against the rail when a loud squeak like a dog toy startled them apart. Emily looked where Jennifer had been a moment before and scoffed. “Stupid pirate wheel.” Emily poked a finger in the middle of the wheel on the red rubber centre and it let out a loud squeak once again.

Jennifer gave an attractively unattractive snort and rolled her eyes. “Come on.” She grabbed Emily’s hand and dragged her to the slide.

“You’ve gotta be fucking with me.” Emily said as Jennifer grinned menacingly before swiftly grabbing onto the bar above the opening and hurtling herself down the slide. When her feet gracefully hit the bottom, she stood up and turned to face Emily, hip cocked sassily with her arms crossed over her chest. Oof. Emily hissed a quick ‘fuck’s sake’ and grabbed the bar like Jennifer did. Unlike Jennifer, there was nothing graceful or attractive about how she clumsily ping-ponged down the slide. She barely managed to stop herself from slipping right off the end and leaned back against the metal with a loud thump. She let out a long loud sigh and tried to ignore the way Jennifer was failing to hold back her snickering. “Swings, yes. Slides, hell no.”

Emily heard Jennifer let out another soft chuckle before she felt hands grip her own. Emily let herself be pulled up into a sitting position and opened her eyes to find Jennifer’s face centimeters from her own. “We can work on it.” Then she closed the space between them. The kiss was merely a peck as Jennifer stepped back to look into Emily’s eyes apprehensively. Emily just grinned and yanked the blonde towards her, pulling until Jennifer was forced to straddle Emily. She slipped one arm around the blonde’s waist and brought her other hand up to tangle in silky golden tresses.

“You’re so beautiful.” Emily whispered as she took in as much of the woman in front of her as she could before their lips once again touched. It started slow, their lips moved almost lazily against one another’s and then the fire began to build. Hands dug into Emily’s hair, gripping deliciously at the roots. They both pulled each other closer even though there was no more space. Emily released the grip she had on Jennifer’s hair and brought both hands to her waist, letting them slip under her coat and sweater to find warm, soft skin below. The moan Jennifer released at the contact rippled through Emily, sending warmth and desire to every cell in her body. Emily pulled away to start a trail of kisses down Jennifer’s neck when a blinding light shone right at them.

“Come on ladies, take it somewhere else.” An electronic voice rang out.

Jennifer jumped off Emily but didn’t quite get her one knee free before her momentum took over and sent her tumbling backwards landing on the pebble floor. Emily jerked quickly to her feet and looked towards the light. A cruiser was parked along the road pointing their searchlight at them.

“Sorry Officer!” Emily stuck a hand high in the air.

“Have a good evening. Indoors.” The cops said through the cruiser speakers with a distinct level of amusement to his tone.

“Oops.” Emily laughed and held a hand out to Jennifer who took it gratefully. Emily hoped the twinge of pink on Jennifer’s cheeks was from her kiss rather than embarrassment.

“That was so embarrassing.” Jennifer said breathily as she watched the cop drive away. Damn it.

“The kiss was good though.” Emily said with a proud smile.

Jennifer turned to face Emily and paused a moment, then just laughed and shook her head. “You know,” she paused to let another laugh escape, “you’re kind of a dork.”

Emily felt her own cheeks redden and her smile drooped to something less genuine. “Usually, I’m better at fooling people.” Oh, no truer statement has ever been said. Emily turned away and stuffed her hands deep into her coat pockets. “We should probably get away from this park before people think we’re actually creepy grown ass adults.” She started walking towards the park exit.

Sfigata. Ringarde. Spasiklas. She’s been called that word in so many languages. Well, at least the closest translation. She’s never been called it in the endearing way like how it seems Jennifer is using it. The kids she knew growing up in many different countries were calling her weird. Different. As she got older the words changed. Estraneo. Étranger. Xenos. Outsider. “You don’t belong here” is what they were saying, and Emily did everything she could to prove them wrong. She never did though. People took what she was offering and turned their backs faster than it took to buckle a belt. Over the years she got better at blending in.

Although you still seem to be using sex to do it.

Emily’s pace stuttered at the thought. It was a waste to even hope that Jennifer didn’t notice her misstep based on the way she kept glancing in Emily’s direction every few steps as they walked back the way they came. A hand closed around her wrist and pulled. “Okay, stop.” Emily slammed a mask into place so quickly she was surprised she wasn’t knocked back form the force. She set her mouth into her “politician” smile that she learned from her mother. Even though her mother thought she was a failure, she knew she was good at this smile. She’d gotten through a lot with this smile. “What just happened?”

“Nothing.” Emily cocked her head in confusion, convincingly as always. “What do you mean?”

Jennifer stared at her for a moment, her eyebrows pinched slightly as she took in every inch of Emily’s face. “You can’t fool me.” Guess not as convincing as I thought.

“Honestly, it’s nothing.” Jennifer kept staring. Emily’s shoulders dropped. “Sometimes I have a hard time fitting in. If you’re not feeling this, then I get it.”

Jennifer’s head flinched back, her eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Where’s this coming from?”

Emily shuffled awkwardly, regretting giving in to Jennifer so easily and not brushing her mood swing off a little better. “I don’t know. Nowhere.” She just kept staring. “I know I’m dorky. Or weird, I guess, and not everyone gels with that. So, I get it if you don’t.” Her explanation came out choppy as hell. “I’m not the sexy and mysterious distraction you were probably looking for tonight.” Her cheeks went up in flames, and she couldn’t look at Jennifer anymore. Usually she’s so good at reading people, but she can’t seem to figure out what that look is that she’s getting.

Jennifer took a step closer and gently nudged Emily’s chin with her pointer finger until Emily lifted her head. “Right now, I am having a good time with you, or at least I was before you threw up a mask.” Emily was thrown off not only by Jennifer’s phrasing that she was so used to using in her head. Jennifer on the other hand, was having no problem reading Emily. It made Emily uneasy. Jennifer stepped in real close and lifted a hand to tuck a bit of hair behind Emily’s ear.

Emily just squinted slightly at the woman in front of her. She was looking at her with a soft expression. Her lips were pulled into a small smile with one corner twitched with a smirk. “Also, have you seen you?” She asked this like it was the dumbest question she’d ever asked and couldn’t believe the half-wit in front of her had made her ask it. “You’re plenty sexy. If you had asked when we left the bar, I’d be on my back right now. But, as much as I’d be very happy if that’s how our evening had turned out, I’m happier with how it has turned out.” Emily felt herself melting at Jennifer’s words. That ever-present fist around her heart loosened slightly.

“And you’re definitely mysterious. I mean, for God’s sake, you won’t even tell me your last name which tells me that you’re trying to hide who you are. I just can’t figure out why. I think my only options are fugitive, you think I could recognize your name, or maybe you don’t really feel like being that person right now.” The way Jennifer analyzed Emily’s face made her skin crawl. She saw too much. Emily had been around profilers almost her entire adult life and no one saw through her quite like this woman that she’d met only an hour ago. Emily couldn’t even laugh at the fugitive part because Jennifer was so dead on with her other two points. She opened her mouth to say anything, but nothing came, and she eventually snapped her mouth shut, swallowing roughly. Jennifer softened and brushed her thumb across Emily’s cheek before dropping her hand. “You can keep it to yourself, it’s okay.” She smiled understandingly.

Emily had to let out a slightly sardonic laugh. She shook her head marvelling at how this stranger had profiled her better than any of her colleagues. “What is it that you do for a living?”

Jennifer backed off slightly. “Um, I work in communications. Media communications.” Vague.

Emily nodded methodically. ‘Maybe you don’t feel like being that person right now.’ Jennifer stuttered over her own name. Maybe she’s also trying to hide. She’s purposefully being vague about answering personal questions. Give her the space she’s giving you. Emily gripped Jennifer’s hand more securely and gave it a tug as she started walking again. “You hungry?”

Jennifer’s smile broke into something more radiant. “Definitely. I think all I’ve had today is a power bar and like three gallons of shitty office coffee.”

“I live right across from the bar. We could go back to my place and order something?” Emily asked hesitantly.

“That’s perfect.”

They walked in silence together for a few minutes, entwined hands lightly swinging between them. “So, on your back, eh?” Emily smirked at the way Jennifer’s cheeks reddened.

“Definitely.” She said with no hesitation. “Like I said in the bar, it would not have taken much.” Jennifer gave her a wide grin.

Emily snorted loudly but pulled Jennifer close enough that her lips brushed Jennifer’s ear. “I think I could do something about that.” She whispered her voice dropping one sultry octave. Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. An alarm went off in Emily’s head which caused her to pull away from Jennifer.

Emily schooled her expression as she looked over at Jennifer who visibly shivered before smiling widely. “See? Sexy.” Jennifer lightly bumped Emily’s hip. Emily just shook her head and put on a smile as she pulled Jennifer along. I can’t even flirt with a girl without thinking about Lauren. Is she me? Am I her? Emily stayed locked in memories of her past as they walked along. She vaguely registered Jennifer giving those sidelong looks and eventually she felt a tug on her hand. Emily almost visibly shook out of her fog as she focused on Jennifer who was looking at her with her head slightly cocked.

“Sorry, lost in thought.”

“It’s okay.” Jennifer’s eyes flickered over the features of Emily’s face, trying to pull any information she could from her expression. She’s looking for hesitation. She wants to make sure you’re here with her. Emily scrunched her face in apology and gave Jennifer the warmest smile she could. Fuck Lauren, she’s not taking away another second of the time you get to spend with this beautiful woman. Just go with your instincts and worry about everything else later. With that, Emily shoved any and all thoughts of her past in the very back corners of her brain and let herself fully give her attention to the blonde.

Chapter Text

“Wait, do I need to move my car?” Jennifer looked at her pointedly as Emily went to lead her across the street.

“Right.” Emily said. “We can put it in visitor parking at my building. It’ll be safer in there than the sketchy bar regardless of how long you’d like to stay.” Emily trailed off awkwardly. Jennifer just smiled softly and tugged Emily towards the bar parking lot. They made their way to Jennifer’s SUV and Emily pulled the driver’s door open for her before walking over to the passenger side. “That’s my building, but the driveway for the parking garage is just around that corner.” Emily pointed to the building directly across from the bar and then hooked a hand around the street corner.

As Jennifer drove, Emily couldn’t help but stare. She’d never really entertained the idea that someone’s driving could be attractive, but Jennifer’s was. Emily watched as Jennifer steered the car with one hand and kept the other resting casually on the gear shift.

“Is this the driveway?” Jennifer asked glancing slightly at Emily. When she received no response, she glanced over. “Emily?”

Emily peeled her eyes away from the woman next to her. “Huh? Oh, sorry, yeah. This is it.” Emily lifted a hand quickly to point it out. There was a very distinct smirk on Jennifer’s face when Emily looked back over. “You have to put a code in for the door to open.” Emily gave her the code once they pulled up to the keypad and only after did she think about if it was a good idea to give that code to a relative stranger. When Jennifer started backing into a parking spot, all worries went straight out the window. C’est la vie. Jennifer ignored the back up camera and put an arm behind Emily’s headrest leaning slightly closer to get a better view out the back window. Emily felt her mouth open slightly as she watched Jennifer navigate the vehicle into the spot.

When she was parked, Jennifer just slowly turned her head to face Emily with that same knowing smirk. She left the hand on Emily’s headrest a moment longer before bringing it to brush a few strands of hairs behind Emily’s ear, then gently dragged her fingertips down her cheek. She snapped her mouth shut as the pressure of Jennifer’s hand made it blatantly obvious that her mouth was slightly agape.

When Jennifer pulled back Emily had to blink a few times to shake herself out of the stupor the blonde had put her in. “Uh, we should-” Emily lifted a hand and lazily pointed to the door that would lead them to the elevators. Jennifer breathed a soft laugh but gave Emily a nod and opened her door.

They walked in silence to the elevators and leaned against opposite walls once inside. Emily could feel the charged energy between them. It made her skin itch and her fingers twitch, her grip on the bar growing tighter.

When the doors opened, she practically sprang out of them and led the way down the hallway. When they got to her door, she fumbled around with her keys. The task of opening the door became ten times harder once she felt Jennifer pressing ever so lightly against her arm. She heard a breathy chuckle as she tried to get the key in the lock and gave herself an internal fist pump when she finally unlocked the door. Don’t get too excited, your brain has literally turned to goo from a pretty blonde batting her eyelashes at you.

Emily shed her coat immediately upon entering the apartment. The look in Jennifer’s eyes was making her temperature spike along with her shaking hands. She wanted Jennifer, so bad, but she was also very aware of something, or rather someone, that had been holding her back for months. She didn’t want to think of him, but it’s almost like she could feel him poking the very back corner of her brain reminding her just how far she’d go to get what she needed out of someone.

Jennifer came up behind her and put her own coat on the hooks by the door standing much closer than necessary but not entirely unwelcome. Not at all unwelcome really. If I can just get out of my head, I will welcome everything Jennifer wants to give me.

Emily led her into the kitchen, barely sparing a glance so as not to get sucked into the heated look she was getting. She walked up to the island and pulled the stack of mail (mostly flyers) that she’d retrieved from her mailbox that morning. Jennifer settled next to her, again rather closer than necessary, leaning against the counter.

Emily read off the first flyer in the pile. “Okay, there’s pizza-”

“Sure.” Jennifer said immediately. Emily felt, or maybe imagined, her breath tickling the shell of her ear and shivered. She let herself lean slightly so the tops of their arms were touching.

“Okay, do you like pepperoni-”

“Yep, love it.” Jennifer cut her off again, leaning into Emily more.

“Okay, I’ll call it in.” Emily tried to keep any shakiness out of her voice or her hands. If she succeeded, she had no idea because Jennifer had placed a hand on the small of her back as she leaned around Emily to grab one of their phones and handed it to her. She left her hand there.

Emily dialed the number as Jennifer slipped an index finger under her shirt. Her breath caught while she was telling the man on the other end what they wanted as Jennifer’s hand slid slowly from her back to grip her waist, slipping her fingers further under the hem of Emily’s shirt. By the time they asked for her address, Emily honestly wasn’t sure if they were ever going to get that pizza because when Jennifer used her grip on Emily’s waist to pull her around so their hips were flushed, all ability for her brain to communicate with her mouth were gone. As soon as the man told her twenty minutes, she was thanking him and promptly hanging up, all thoughts of pizza completely clear from her brain as Jennifer’s forehead came to rest against hers. Fuck him, I’m not letting him get in the way of this. She had enough sense to not throw the phone carelessly in whatever direction, but once her hands were free, they immediately buried themselves in long blonde tresses, gripping tightly and crashed her lips with Jennifer’s.

Emily’s skin was on fire where Jennifer’s hands fully slipped up the back of her shirt. Her fingers splayed out to touch as much skin as possible but would curl in to massage at her back, pulling their bodies even closer. Emily moved one hand from blonde locks to slip beneath the collar of Jennifer’s own shirt, lightly whimpering at the soft skin under her palm.

Emily felt a deep rumble coming from Jennifer as she opened her mouth slightly and gently brushed her tongue against Jennifer’s lips. Her mouth opened immediately at the intrusion, their tongues danced in unison. Emily didn’t even realize they were moving until she was pushed down into the couch cushions. Jennifer smirked at Emily’s shocked expression and leaned one knee on the couch beside Emily who didn’t hesitate to grip the blonde’s hips and pull her roughly into her lap. Emily let her hands caress Jennifer’s hips then move around to firmly grip her backside.

Jennifer looked down into Emily’s eyes, she had a slight smile on her face. It was so soft and sweet. “You’re so beautiful.” Jennifer whispered as she used both hands to push back Emily’s hair. No one’s ever looked at me like this before. Emily felt herself matching Jennifer’s smile and leaned in as best as she could while being pinned to the couch. Jennifer closed the distance but their kiss this time was slower, less intense but made Emily feel more than she ever has before. Warmth spread from her chest to the tips of her fingers and toes. Jennifer pushed her tongue to caress Emily’s almost lazily. Even though they’d lost the ferocity, after a few moments both women were breathless.

Jennifer pulled back and leaned away slightly so she could place a hand on Emily’s chest to push her farther down into the couch until she was laying flat. They maneuvered so she was between Emily’s legs and slowly lowered her body until they were touching practically from head to toe. Jennifer once again leaned down to connect their lips. It started slow again but gradually built to a crescendo until they were grasping at each other with the same intensity as before.

Hands never stayed still. They tangled in hair, moved down necks to shoulders. They grabbed at hips and massaged thighs. Always pulling, pulling, pulling. Any amount of space between them was too much. Emily’s hands moved so far up Jennifer’s sides that her thumbs brushed the underside of Jennifer’s bra. When Emily snuck her thumbs underneath the lace material and gently caressed the sides of Jennifer’s breasts, the filthy moan that she let out lit a fire under Emily. She pulled her hands out from under Jennifer’s shirt and fingered the hem. She pulled back to look up at the blonde for permission, which was not needed as Jennifer whipped her shirt off quickly and tossed it in an unknown direction.

“Fuck.” Emily muttered as she took in the site of Jennifer above her. Long, wavy blonde hair hanging down almost touching Emily’s stomach, lips swollen, pupils blown, flushed cheeks and all that made Emily’s breath hitch before she’d looked below the neck. When her eyes travelled lower, she groaned at the dark blue bra she was wearing that was the perfect blend of sexy and functional. The cups were solid blue, but the bands and straps were covered in lace flowers. When her eyes drifted even lower, Emily couldn’t help the hand that reached out to trace the lines of muscle on Jennifer’s stomach. Emily’s hand splayed out on Jennifer’s abdomen and looked up once more. “Fuck.” She repeated.

Jennifer snorted and crashed their lips together. Tongues immediately battled for dominance. Both women moaned in synchronicity as Jennifer lifted Emily’s shirt and their skin touched with no barrier. Jennifer was working on tugging the shirt off Emily when the doorbell rang. Shit. The pizza. Jennifer jolted off Emily onto her feet and took a step back before tumbling over one of Emily’s still full boxes.

Emily snorted loudly as she sat up. “Easy there, tiger.”

Jennifer laughed and rubbed a hand down her face before looking around her in shock like she was taking the room in for the first time. “Did you just move in here?”

Emily snorted again as she got up and fixed her shirt. “Yeah. Hence all the boxes everywhere.” Emily waved a hand around the living room and towards the kitchen. She took a few steps towards the door and scooped up Jennifer’s shirt, tossing it in the direction of the still stunned blonde.

“I was a little distracted.” Emily heard Jennifer mutter as she pulled the shirt over her head so Emily could open the door.

“I know, I was there.” Emily shot her a wink as she opened the door. She quickly paid the man and set the pizza on the coffee table.

“I don’t want that.” Jennifer said from her spot still on the floor. “I want to do more of that.” Jennifer pointed at the couch. If Jennifer’s stomach didn’t give a timely growl, Emily might have taken her up on that.

“Come on. I’ve got a nice bottle of wine we could open with our pizza.” Emily held a hand out for Jennifer to take and helped her up.

“Fine. But we’re doing more of that later.” Jennifer gave her a pointed stare.

“Twist my arm.” Emily said in faux exasperation as she turned and went into the kitchen. “Now I have no idea where the wine glasses are, but I do know where at least two teacups are.” Emily said proudly opening the cupboard with a flourish…which was empty. “Damn it.” She huffed under her breath and quickly closed the door. She went to the one beside it and cracked it open a touch to peak inside. Stepping back, she swung the door open with the same exuberance revealing a measly three teacups, one plate, and two bowls. Jennifer snorted loudly. Her eyes had that same look from before that Emily couldn’t quite figure out, but it made her blush, nonetheless.

“I’m still working on unpacking everything.” She said unnecessarily, scrubbing her brow awkwardly before turning away. She grabbed the teacups, bottle of wine, and a roll of paper towels and set everything on the coffee table. Emily handed Jennifer the wine to pour and ripped a few pieces off the paper towel roll and set them, layered, in the middle of the couch, then took the pizza box and set it on top. Emily then settled onto the couch, cross legged, facing the pizza and Jennifer head on.

Jennifer was staring at her in amusement before chuckling and shaking her head slightly but ended up mirroring Emily’s position.

“You look like you’re gonna call me a dork again.” Emily said feeling significantly less stung at the word.

Jennifer smiled softly and shook her head. “No, I was going to say you’re cute, but also that this pizza might stain the couch if the grease gets through the box.”

“Hence the paper towels.” Emily said with a flourish of her hand.

“Right, because a paper towel is an impenetrable force to pizza grease.” Jennifer agreed sarcastically.

“I put like three under there.” Emily shrugged.

Jennifer just stared at her a moment. “Now I’m gonna call you a dork.” She deadpanned.

Emily just rolled her eyes and flicked the box open. “Just eat.” She ripped off another paper towel and handed it to Jennifer then took one for herself. Jennifer picked up a piece of pizza and smiled sheepishly at Emily before picking the pepperoni off and setting it on the lid of the box. “You said you liked pepperoni.” Emily said incredulously.

JJ shrugged. “I was so, so distracted.” She took a bite of her slice after she’d rid it of pepperoni. “You’re very distracting.”  She gave Emily another shrug who just chuckled and dug into her own slice.

They ate their food alongside simple chatter and sipped their wine out of teacups which they both said felt incredibly wrong. Emily played with her last piece of crust mindlessly before throwing it in the box. “I’m not a fugitive.”

Jennifer’s head jerked back in confusion. “What?”

Emily cleared her throat. She cannot for the life of her come up with a reason for why she blurted that out. “Before when you said why I wouldn’t tell you my last name. I’m not a fugitive but you weren’t wrong about the other things.”

Jennifer looked at her with that calm, calculated look that seemed to see through everything. “So, you think I’d recognize your last name.”

Emily nodded her head in a so-so gesture. “My mother’s name.”

Jennifer nodded thoughtfully. “And you don’t want to be you right now.” She doesn’t miss anything.

Again, Emily nodded her head side to side. “Like I said before, my mother raised me as a tool to make herself look good. Part of that was squashing a lot of who I really am so that I could be the person she needed me to be. My old job had me do the same thing over and over again and sometimes I forget who the real Emily is. I guess when I saw you, I just wanted to be Emily. I don’t get to just be her very often.” Emily stumbled out awkwardly, she could feel her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and wouldn’t meet Jennifer’s eyes. With a quick shake of her head, Emily laughed breathily. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

Jennifer didn’t say anything for a while and the silence finally pulled Emily’s eyes up to meet soft, understanding blues. Jennifer gave Emily a small smile and moved the remnants from their dinner onto the coffee table then swung a leg over Emily and settled in her lap. “Tonight, just be Emily and I’ll just be Jennifer.” Jennifer gripped either side of Emily’s face and looked deeply into her eyes. Emily saw a sliver of hope in Jennifer’s eyes that told Emily that she also wanted to let go of her everyday life for an evening and just be who they were right now, together, so Emily nodded with a grateful smile. Jennifer returned with a firm nod and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss before pulling away and sitting back a little. She played with the hem of Emily’s shirt absently, a look of hesitation on her face. “Did you miss out on a lot of things growing up? Like the playground?” Jennifer asked sheepishly.

“I guess it’s kinda hard to know how much I missed out on because I don’t really know any better.” Emily shrugged almost indifferently, although she was curious.

Jennifer nodded thoughtfully and leaned her forearms on Emily’s shoulders. “Okay, let’s just start with some of the things I remember. Can you ride a bike?”

Emily snorted. “Yes.” She paused, “a stationary bike at the gym.” She said with a proud nod.

Jennifer snorted louder. “So…no.” Jennifer said pointedly.

“No.” Emily shook her head with a laugh. Emily brought her hands up to rest lightly on Jennifer’s thighs. It struck Emily as odd that their current position almost exactly mirrored the one they were in earlier, minus the lip lock, but her body was telling her she liked it like this more. Of course, kissing Jennifer was amazing and she wouldn’t say no to more of that, but talking so casually while being so close physically felt more intimate. Slightly domestic in a way. A familiarity one would have with a partner.

“Okay, okay, starting off strong here.” Jennifer chuckled. “Sports?”

“Sorta. I was put in figure skating and tennis but wasn’t very good, so my mother quickly pulled me out.” Emily wrapped an arm around Jennifer’s waist to stabilize her and reached over to the end table to grab her wine teacup. She took a sip and gave Jennifer a shrug before offering the blonde the cup. “Didn’t want to embarrass her and all.” Jennifer paused a moment and watched Emily for signs of distress over her terrible childhood. At one point this would have seriously bothered her but now she was able to see the ridiculousness of it and the jokes she made didn’t have the hint of poor-me self-deprecation that they used to but were more light-hearted. Emily shouldn’t have been surprised when Jennifer finished her examination seemingly satisfied with what she saw and ready to move on. Jennifer took the cup and took a sip of her own.

“Did you watch movies that you were way too young to watch at sleepovers? For me it was Dangerous Liaisons. My parents were so angry with my sister for letting me watch it. Oh! And Poltergeist. I couldn’t be alone in a room for weeks. I made my sister sit in the bathroom with me while I showered.” Jennifer chuckled at the memories.

Emily smiled wistfully at the thought of having siblings. Maybe if she had a brother or sister growing up, she wouldn’t have felt so desperate to fit in. “You guys sound like you’re very close.”

Jennifer’s happy demeanour dropped a few degrees, and she smiled sadly at Emily. “We were. She was quite a few years older than me, but she always made time for me or let me tag along when I could. She died when I was eleven.” Jennifer took a longer sip and passed the drink back to Emily.

Emily clicked her tongue sympathetically. “I’m sorry Jennifer.” She rubbed her hand up and down Jennifer’s thigh soothingly. Jennifer gave her a small smile and brief shrug but leaned in closer. Emily waited to see if Jennifer would say anything else before she spoke. “Well, to answer your original question. No, I didn’t. I did a lot of things that weren’t age-appropriate but most of the movies I watched were hand-picked by various tutors in various countries in various languages about various educational topics.” Emily chuckled but stopped abruptly when she saw the look of surprise on Jennifer’s face.

“There’s a lot to unpack there.” Emily huffed a sigh just for herself and waved a hand at Jennifer to ask way. Why is my tongue so loose around her? “You travelled a lot as a kid?” Emily nodded. “And you can speak multiple languages?” She nodded again. “How many?” Emily wiggled seven fingers sheepishly. Jennifer’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Can you say something for me?” Jennifer leaned back slightly, watching Emily in excitement.

Emily drained the last small sip and once again leaned over to put the cup back on the side table. “What do you want me to say?” Emily spoke in Spanish. “I could tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” She said in French but let her voice drop an octave and smirked in satisfaction when she felt the smallest shiver run down Jennifer’s back. “Or I could tell you that I’ve never met someone who sees through my walls like you do.” She said in Greek, her eyes shifting away from those penetrating blues. “I feel so lucky that I get to spend tonight with you, even if that’s all I ever get.” Her Russian was flawed but Jennifer didn’t seem to notice or care as her hands came to Emily’s neck, thumbs caressing the base. “I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I have to you tonight and I don’t understand how you make me feel so safe to do so.” Jennifer cocked her head as she listened to Emily’s Arabic. “I hope you matter tomorrow.” Emily whispered in Italian into Jennifer’s ear. “That’s all of them.” She finished in English, pulling back and gently squeezing Jennifer’s thighs.

“Okay.” Jennifer muttered and swallowed roughly. Emily chuckled at her flushed cheeks. “That was much sexier than I thought it would be. What did you say?” Jennifer asked in a way that said she knew Emily wouldn’t answer her.

Emily swallowed roughly and looked down. Her fingers on Jennifer’s thighs started drawing random patterns. “Oh, you know, nice weather we’re having.” Emily mumbled.

Jennifer ducked her head to try to catch Emily’s gaze. “Weather sucks Em, you’ve gotta do better than that.” She gave Emily a half smirk. Emily caved immediately (how could I not after the nickname) and rolled her eyes in confirmation. Why bother trying to fool her? “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because it was probably more personal than I have any business saying to someone I only met a couple hours ago.” Emily gave her a shrug.

Jennifer surveyed Emily for a few moments before she leaned in a squinted slightly. “You know that doesn’t make me any less curious, right?” Emily just chuckled in response. “I thought we didn’t matter tomorrow.” Jennifer said, pushing a bit more. Emily tried not to let her whole body freeze at Jennifer’s words and she mostly succeeded but, again, there was something too perceptive about this woman. Jennifer stroked Emily’s neck soothingly once more with her thumbs, giving Emily, yet again, another out. “So, I recognized Spanish, French, and Italian? I think?” Emily nodded when she paused. “What were the others?”

“Greek, Russian and Arabic.”

“You really got around didn’t you.” Jennifer cringed when she realized how that sounded.

“Teenage Emily did, adult Emily lives the life of a nun.” I can’t believe I just said that. She felt her face heat up in embarrassment, but Jennifer just snorted with laughter. And lied, because that’s not true is it Em? You slept with him more times than you can count. Emily fought the cringe that threatened to shake her whole body.

“Are those the ‘not age-appropriate’ activities you got up to?” Jennifer smirked. Her hands pulled one of Emily’s away from her thigh and started drawing non-sensical shapes on her palm.

“When I got tired of being the perfect daughter for my mother, I leaned in a little too hard to my rebellious streak.” Emily murmured slightly, looking away from Jennifer’s eyes and focusing on their hands. She could feel Jennifer watching her again, trying to figure out what she was thinking and feeling. When she finally looked up, she had to resist the urge to scoff. Again, Jennifer had a look of pure understanding on her face. She’s practically a goddamn mind-reader. Or a profiler. Emily internally rolled her eyes at herself and leaned in closer to hide her face in Jennifer’s shoulder. Physically hiding her face was still an option. Jennifer looped her arms around Emily’s neck and pulled her closer, lips gently touching her hairline. After a few moments and Emily hadn’t pulled her face back out, Jennifer started running her hands slowly up and down Emily’s back.

“Some days I think I made a terrible decision going into the career I chose.” Jennifer said softly. Emily slowly pulled back and met hesitant blues, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Other days I think my superiors feel the same way.” Jennifer sighed heavily and leaned into Emily again. Now she’s the one hiding. Emily ran her hands up Jennifer’s body and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “I told you I work in media communications and sometimes I have to report on rather sensitive topics. I think my superiors don’t think I have the stomach for it. Like I’m not strong enough to see what comes across my desk every day.”

Emily could relate to that. She’s spent her entire adult life chasing criminals. She’s done questionable things in order to catch those criminals. How many times did she ask herself how she was going to get through this or that? How many people had she seen come and go through Interpol because they found that line they couldn’t cross, the line that made everything too much.

“Do you have the stomach for it?” Emily asked, her hands moved to rub from hips to shoulders. Jennifer pulled back with a slight look of indignation. Emily chuckled and lifted a thumb to smooth out her eyebrows. “Hey, we’re just talking here.” Emily cocked her head to the side and gave Jennifer a crooked smile.

After a moment Jennifer relaxed with a long sigh but didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned farther back and nudged Emily until she shifted underneath her. Eventually Emily got the hint and laid back on the couch, Jennifer followed immediately. When they were settled in a position similar to the one they were in earlier, Emily felt a small stab of disappointment. Her disappointment had nothing to do with the beautiful woman that was laying on top of her and where they were headed as Jennifer brought her face closer, it was that Jennifer seemed to be putting an end to their conversation. She had been feeling incredibly vulnerable with how her brain-to-mouth filter had been faulty this evening and Jennifer had extended an olive branch (more like an olive twig) but pulled it back so quickly.

When Jennifer pressed her lips against Emily’s, she figured this wasn’t the worst thing they could be doing and lifted her head to deepen the kiss. Just as she was about to swipe at Jennifer’s lip with her tongue, she pulled away and settled her head high up on Emily’s chest. She tucked her arms underneath Emily and wrapped them up her back until she was gripping her shoulders.

“I work in a very male dominated environment.” Emily felt herself brighten as Jennifer started to talk. “My coworkers are mostly men, my direct superiors are mostly men, even my peers. I know what I look like, and I know how men see me. I’m a lot stronger than anyone gives me credit for and I never waiver in my job performance. I always do at least what is exactly expected of me but yet, if I get even slightly emotional, I get everyone looking at me like I’m soft. I’m not soft, I’m just human.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The woosh of air slightly tickled Emily’s arm. Emily let her hands drift up and down Jennifer’s back as she waited to see if she had any more to say. After Jennifer adjusted her head slightly and tightened her grip on Emily’s shoulders, she continued. “Almost everyone I work with gets emotional and shows it in their own way. Some get aggressive, others shut down or get all pissy. I get a bit misty and somehow that’s the reaction that has people watching me making sure I don’t break down.” Jennifer awkwardly shook her head against Emily’s chest and tsked in annoyance. “I never break down. I have too much practice holding everything together. I’ve been doing it a long time.” Jennifer finished with the words slightly under her breath, like she was talking more to herself than Emily. There was so much bitterness and exhaustion in those words.

Emily brought one hand up to Jennifer’s cheek and guided her until their eyes met. “What happened?”

Jennifer’s eyes welled up but didn’t spill over. “See? Misty.” She chuckled softly and sighed once again. “When my sister died, it was hard on my parents. They split up and my dad took off. It was just me and my mom after that, but she was never really there. Anyways, she died my senior year of high school.” Jennifer shifted her head out of Emily’s gentle grip and laid her head back down. Holding back. Hiding.

“I’m so sorry Jennifer. Do you ever see your dad?” Emily resumed the rhythmic trail of her fingers up and down Jennifer’s back. Jennifer just shook her head. Emily waited a few moments to see if she had anything to add, but Emily quickly realized sharing time was over. Hopefully only for now. “You know, I thought you were the one that was supposed to be on your back.” Emily joked, trying to bring Jennifer out of the fog her memories had put her in.

Thankfully, Jennifer snorted a small laugh and gave her a grateful smile before sitting up. She pulled on Emily’s hands until she was upright, and Jennifer maneuvered her legs so they were wrapped tightly around Emily’s waist. With a smirk she brought her arms around Emily’s neck and fell back, bringing the brunette down on top of her.

“Is this better?” Jennifer brought her lips up to meet Emily’s in a chaste kiss. “Is this what you want?” There was a slight edge to Jennifer’s voice that wasn’t quite right. Emily sat up so she was leaning on her elbows. She’s letting you decide where the evening goes from here.

“I want whatever you want.” Emily said softly.

Jennifer looked at Emily with a look of slight wonder before letting a shy grin spread across her face. “Tell me something good. What’s your happiest memory?” Emily scrunched her eyes and hesitated. Her mouth bobbed and Jennifer’s smile dropped a bit in understanding. “That’s probably a little too personal. How about just a regular happy memory?”

“That I can do.” Jennifer relaxed at Emily’s words and pulled so more of Emily’s weight on her. “This one is slightly bitter-sweet. I was about fifteen and had just had a bit of health problems while we were in Rome.” Emily barely stuttered over the words, but Jennifer caught it, giving her a look of concern. “Everything turned out okay.” Sort of. “Anyways, after all that, my mother figured it would be good to get out of the city for a while, so we went to Venice for a few weeks. I was supposed to be taking it easy, but my usually distant mother was unusually overbearing but with the same hostility and I needed a break, so I climbed through the bathroom window and ran for it. I stopped at a news stand and looked through a bunch of travel pamphlets. I saw one for the Orto Botanico di Padova and thought the pictures looked so beautiful, so I grabbed a taxi and told them to take me there.” Emily paused to settle in even more. She tucked her arms underneath Jennifer’s body and laid her head between her breasts.

“What is the Orto…something?” Jennifer weaved her fingers through Emily’s hair and gently started to comb them through.

Emily chuckled. “It’s the oldest botanical garden in the world. It was founded in the 1500’s so it has some really incredible architecture from that time period. I remember feeling so at peace as soon as I walked in there. I’d never seen water lily’s that big before and they had a greenhouse full of carnivorous plants. Anyways, I spent almost the whole day there and I was so happy. Even my mother ripping me a new one when I got back couldn’t put a damper on my day.” That was the day I realized this was my life to live and that I wanted it to be a good one. Some days Emily thought she wasn’t there yet. It wasn’t quite good yet.

“How long did you guys stay in Italy for?” Jennifer asked, her fingers starting to sloppily braid Emily’s hair.

“About a year. We stayed long enough so I could finish the school year and then we were off to Spain where I finished high school.” Emily closed her eyes, feeling entirely too content in this stranger’s arms.

“Hence the Spanish.”

Emily grunted in agreeance. “Will you tell me a happy memory?” She mumbled sleepily.

“Hmm.” It took a long time before Jennifer spoke. Emily hoped she was trying to figure out which one to share and not that it was hard to find one. Even before Jennifer spoke of her family, there was this hint of unhappiness. Like it’s a resting state that she’s more used to than anyone should be. The same hint that Emily felt in her own life, but Jennifer’s seemed deeper. “Okay, soccer, my senior year of college. Championship game. We lost in overtime, two-to-one.”

Emily groggily lifted her head in confusion. “How is this happy? You lost.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that part sucked but to channel my inner team captain, winning isn’t the only thing that matters. Now lay back down and just listen, you goober.”

Jennifer gave her head a playful pat. The fist around Emily’s heart loosened. She wanted more of this. The way they were bantering is more than you’d get from someone you met in a bar, and the level of intimacy they had in their conversations was a hell of a lot more than she’d had with anyone. This definitely wasn’t normal, but it did feel like they were flirting with something quite special.

“Okay, so yeah, we lost. And yes, that was the last official game I ever played, but my god, it was the best game we played in the four years I was on that team. We knew we weren’t going to win the game. This team was stacked, and their goalie was an absolute beast. She actually went on to play for the national team and is still ranked as one of the best in the world.” Emily brought her hands up and crossed her fingers before resting her palms just below Jennifer’s chest. She settled her chin on the tops of her hands and opened her groggy eyes wider, giving Jennifer her full attention. Jennifer stalled and smiled softly, bringing a finger up and gently caressing Emily’s cheek.

Jennifer gave herself a small shake of the head and dropped her hand before continuing. “Anyways, no one had scored on her the entire season. Their record was incredible so we knew going in that it would take a miracle to win, and we were fine with that. All we wanted was to score one goal on her. If we scored that one goal, if we became the only team to score on her the whole season, then it would mean that we were the team that was supposed to be in that game with them. That even though we’d lose, we were still the best out of all the rest. And we did. We scored first and kept them on their toes the entire game. Our goalie was diving all over the place trying to keep their strikers from scoring and she did such a good job, but when the game was coming to an end everyone was so tired. We’ve never pushed that hard and we got sloppy all around, so they scored with two minutes left in the game which pushed overtime. After that it was over pretty quickly. They scored almost immediately and although we actually lost, it kinda felt like we won.” Jennifer settled her head back into the arm rest and smiled nostalgically at the ceiling.

“You must miss being on a team like that. I can tell it meant a lot to you.”

Jennifer nodded a few times. “I definitely didn’t start like that. It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized a team could be a good thing. I like the way that you always have someone there to watch your back and that you have people who know exactly what you’re going through, and they can relate in a unique way.”

Emily scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “It sounds like we’re talking about more than just soccer.”

Jennifer tilted her head down to meet Emily’s gaze. “Just work. We’re also a team and like I said before, we deal with sensitive issues. A lot of heavy emotions so although they think I’m the weakest link, they also understand why any one of us gets affected. It’s hard not to.” Jennifer said quietly. Emily opened her mouth to speak but closed it when she saw Jennifer shaking her head. “Anyways, tell me something interesting.” Jennifer smiled and brought her thumb up to stroke Emily’s cheek, almost like she couldn’t help herself.

“Did you know that a person’s fingernails grow faster on their dominant hand?” Emily said, leaning into Jennifer’s touch.

Jennifer snorted so loud it sounded painful. “I meant something interesting about you.” Emily got lost in the sound of Jennifer’s laugh and in the way her eyes crinkled at the corner. She couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across her face at the blonde’s laughter.

“Well, I thought it was interesting so technically you could consider it as something interesting about me.” Emily smirked triumphantly at Jennifer’s eyeroll.

“Oh, really now. Well, I saw a really cute dog the other day and I thought that was really interesting. Does that count as something interesting to tell you about me?” Jennifer smirked back like she’d slam dunked her point.

“Of course it does.” Emily shrugged nonchalantly and tried to hold back her chuckle at another eyeroll. “You like animals, hence interesting fact about Jennifer.”

“Ah, I see. So, what does yours tell me? You like fingernails?”

Emily scoffed. “Of course not, I mean look at these.” She fanned out her fingers with her short, jagged nails. Jennifer brought her hands from Emily’s back and linked their fingers together. “It tells you I have a thirst for broadening the mind.”

“I think that might be a stretch.”

“Nu uh. I like to learn new things and sometimes those things are just silly little facts that will never do me any good.”

Jennifer smiled softly and brought their linked hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of Emily’s. “Tell me another.”

“People used to say “prunes” instead of “cheese” when taking pictures.”

Jennifer’s head jerked back. “What?” She laughed.

“Yeah, it was the original duckface.”

“Huh?” Jennifer’s mouth was pulled up in a smile, her eyes bright with humour. Emily paused a moment just to take her in and tried to find a moment she’d ever felt more mesmerized.

Emily lifted herself slightly and reached behind Jennifer’s head for her phone that was on the end table. “Here, I’ll show you.” Emily pointed the camera at Jennifer. “Say “prunes”.”

“No, you’re doing it with me.” Jennifer took the phone and maneuvered so her arms was outstretched with both their heads in the frame. “Say “prunes”.” They said the word and Jennifer snapped the photo. Both their lips were slightly pursed, but the corners of their mouths were unmistakably turned up. “Okay, now say “cheese”.” She chuckled. They took another photo with huge grins spread ear to ear. Emily turned to face Jennifer who wasted no time in bringing their lips together in a quick kiss and capturing a third photo. She put the phone back behind her and pulled Emily down until she was laying on Jennifer’s chest again.

“Your turn. Tell me something interesting.” Emily said stifling a yawn.

They ping ponged little bits back and forth for hours, both women growing steadily more tired. Eventually they just laid there in silence holding each other. Emily was on the very edge of unconsciousness when she heard Jennifer quietly speak.

“I hope you matter tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

“Shit!”

Jennifer jolted awake as all the air was expelled from her lungs. She opened her eyes to see a frantic Emily, standing holding a hand to her forehead and pushing her hair out of the way. Jennifer sat up slightly as she caught her breath. She’s just as beautiful as she was last night.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so late.” Emily quickly pulled her shirt over her head and moved towards a hallway but paused fidgeting awkwardly.

“And I need to get out of here.” Jennifer said groggily. “It’s okay, I’m gonna be late for work if I don’t get going.” She sat up and swung her legs off the couch.

“Oh, I’m 100% going to be late. Not a good thing for your first day at a new job.” Emily took a couple steps forward until their knees were almost touching.

“You’re starting a new job today and you still picked me up from a bar?” Jennifer raised an eyebrow in question.

“Can you blame me?” Emily gave her a cheeky smile. “And technically you picked me up.”

“Can you blame me?” Jennifer quirked a brow then dropped her gaze to Emily’s chest and reached a hand out to caress her exposed hip. “You know, you’re making it really hard to leave right now?” She asked huskily.

Emily let out a breath between her lips and leaned into the touch. That was answer enough and Jennifer used both hands to grip Emily’s waist and pulled her into her lap. Her lips immediately went to Emily’s neck, pressing light kisses from chin to shoulder. “I don’t want you to leave.” Emily whispered.

Jennifer pulled back and looked into her eyes. She saw so much sincerity in them, her words having a much deeper meaning than just leaving this morning. Jennifer didn’t want to leave, and she meant it on a deeper level like Emily did.

She caressed Emily’s cheeks with her thumbs and pulled her in until their lips touched softly. Jennifer allowed herself a few moments to revel in the closeness. She didn’t know what this was, but she knew pretty quickly last night that it was more than a little casual fun with a pretty girl she met in a bar. Hell, they didn’t even have any of said ‘casual fun’. Nothing about their night together was casual. Would she have absolutely loved to take this woman to bed, of course, but she found herself knowing the sacrifice was worth it to listen to whatever she had to say.

Jennifer pulled away and rested their foreheads together. She brushed the hair away from Emily’s face, tucking the hair behind her ear and smiled softly. “But I have to, don’t I?”

Emily nodded. “I really shouldn’t be late, although it would be totally worth it.” She leaned in to capture Jennifer’s lips quickly once more like she couldn’t help herself.

Jennifer pulled Emily in tight for one last squeeze before letting her go. “It’s okay, you’ll see me again. If you want.” She said uncertainly.

“I want.” Emily got up and pulled Jennifer with her, pressing their foreheads together once more. “I definitely want.” Jennifer leaned in once more to press her lips to Emily’s.

“Good.” Jennifer whispered when they broke apart. Jennifer spun Emily at the shoulders and slightly nudged her towards the hallway she assumed held her bedroom. “I’ll let myself out. Don’t be late.”

Emily took a few steps but then paused. “Wait, I need your number.”

“I’ll leave it here.” Jennifer pointed at the table by door. “Go.” Jennifer chuckled.

“Bye Jennifer.” She suppressed the now familiar shiver that wanted to shake her spine at the sound of her name coming out of Emily’s lips.

“Goodbye Emily.” And with that Emily turned and rushed down the hall. Jennifer pulled out one of her cards and hesitated leaving it for her. If you’re going to continue to see her, she’s going to have to get to know JJ as well. Jennifer sighed and set the card down, then left the apartment.

She shuffled a couple steps to the side and leaned her back against the wall. Her eyes closed, head tilted to slightly resting against the wall, and her smile pulled up softly into what had the be the dopiest smile she’d ever smiled.

Emily. What a woman. Her body felt so light, but her heart felt so incredibly full. Fuller than it’s been since her world cracked apart all those years ago. When Jennifer left the office yesterday, she never imagined she’d end up meeting someone like Emily. She never planned on meeting anyone at all. By the time she lifted from the fog she’d been in and saw the bar, she just wanted a drink. She was never a drinker but tonight she felt out of options. She imagined herself nursing something as slow as possible to kill time before going home to her bare apartment. She figured some people watching would do enough to distract her from the thoughts, feelings, memories that always caught up with her. Unfortunately, the bar was pretty barren and the people who were there were uninteresting to say the least. Her drink drained much faster than she anticipated and after staring at the scarred wood of the bar counter for far too long, she resigned herself to the empty, quiet night she tried so hard to avoid.

Then she looked up.

She wasn’t there when Jennifer first showed up at the bar. If she was, she sure as hell wouldn’t have given so much of her attention to the countertop that had seen better days. No, definitely not. As soon as her eyes met Emily’s for the briefest moment across that bar, she was hooked. She could barely pull her attention away from the woman the entire night.

Jennifer pushed off from the wall.

She was stunning—dark hair, those eyes that popped against pale skin. And her body… it just fit against JJ’s like they’d been designed for each other. Something about her drew JJ in and didn’t let go. Her beauty, her sense of humour, that dorkiness. She was soft and just lovely inside, but with this seemingly hard exterior. Everything left her wanting more. Emily was just magnetizing.

Although now that JJ thinks about it, Emily didn’t act as standoffish as she expected her to be or that she expects she would be with others. From first glance, Emily had this air of refinement around her. She had a lift to her chin that suggested she was taught to hold her head up above others. Her overcoat suggested money, although the jeans she wore underneath were generic and threadbare from use rather than aesthetic.

Second glance, well, that was what Jennifer got most of the evening. Not necessarily a struggle to consume liquids without going into a coughing fit but clumsy, awkward, goofy. So incredibly likeable. She was warm and understanding. The way she carried herself screamed intelligence, but it wasn’t a smack in the face. More of a quiet intelligence. One where she might not always have something to say, but when she does, everyone should just shut up and listen.

The word that came to Jennifer’s mind to describe Emily was elegance. Although she may not be using that word in the traditional sense. Elegance is when the inside is as beautiful as the outside. A quote that’s original meaning may not exactly fit, but she thought lined up quite nicely with her own interpretation. And godammit Emily is beautiful on the inside. Jennifer has never been so sure of something. Even after only a few conscious hours with her, Jennifer knew that Emily was special. She knew that the evening they shared was something that doesn’t come around very often. That connection doesn’t come around very often.

I’ve never been so intimate with someone. She hadn’t. Nothing that she’d ever experienced with a partner or lover was as intimate as what they shared the night before. They were so close, but it wasn’t sexual. I mean, not totally. Jennifer’s arms broke out in goosebumps at the memory of the kiss they shared before dinner. But the stolen kisses, sometimes nothing more than a peck, almost like neither one of them could help themselves. Or that it just felt so incredibly natural. Like they’d been doing it a while, or they could do it for a lifetime.

Woah. Easy there, Jareau. You spent one night with her. Get a grip. Jennifer shook her head, trying to dislodge the heat in her chest. She might not even call you. That sour thought effectively cut off her train of thought and lifted the Emily induced fog she was under.

She sure became quite the distraction. Jennifer blinked in astonishment as she realized she was in her unofficial parking spot at the BAU. She didn’t remember a bit of the journey from Emily’s apartment to her own, let alone the trip into the office. Oof, that woman is dangerous. Jennifer chuckled. She took a look at herself in the overhead mirror. Fugue state Jennifer does a decent job. Jennifer nodded at her reflection in approval. With a deep breath, she gathered her things and opened the car door.

I hope you matter tomorrow. She’d whispered those words after Emily had fallen asleep. With a deep sigh she leaned against the back wall of the elevator. Jennifer wanted Emily to matter to her. She wanted to matter to Emily. She wanted more quiet evenings with the woman. She wanted to explore the physical attraction that was clearly between them. She wanted to share her burdens. She was tired of carrying them herself and although it was scary to take the leap and let someone in, Emily felt like she was worth it.

The elevator dinged and she stepped out onto the floor. The familiarity of her workplace washed over her, setting her shoulders straightened out from the relaxed state they’d been. That familiar tension that usually settled between her eyes returned. Back to normal. It was nice being just Jennifer for a night. JJ has more problems and responsibilities than Jennifer. She has a lot of memories too. Sour memories. Memories that are too much to talk about with anyone. Memories she steered away from last night.

She stared for a moment at the double glass doors that led to the bullpen. Even if it was just for an evening, it was perfect. She let out a long sigh before moving forward.

JJ strut into the bullpen with the confidence and poise she strived for everyday.

“Hey Blondie. How was your night? Did you enjoy the extra few hours off?” Derek leaned back in his chair, hands tucked behind his head, and easy smile on his face that held not a care in the world. That’s the confidence she wanted. One where she had no doubts in her abilities and, more importantly, one where everyone else was as confident in her and she was.

She couldn’t help the slight twist of her lips. “I did.”

Derek raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh yeah? I’d love to hear those details.” He leaned forward in excitement.

JJ just scoffed. “In your dreams, Morgan.”

“Fine, fine.” Derek put his hands up in surrender. “Worth seeing again, though?”

She picked up a file and flipped through it with disinterest. “That, my friend, would be details.”

Derek took a moment to survey her.  This was her sweet spot. Confident but distant. He wasn’t getting anything out of her. And he didn’t so he just nodded and his cheeky smile shifting to something softer. “Okay, Jareau.” He shifted back into his seat and took a sip of his coffee, his mood shifting to a slightly darker place. He jerked his head in the direction of Hotch’s office. “Looks like they filled Elle’s position.”

JJ swallowed roughly. They weren’t the closest, but she was still a part of the team. She was still someone that saw the same horrors as the rest of them and did their damnedest to not let it get to them as they moved onto the next case. The next set of people to help. Elle did a damn good job at it too until the job pushed her too far.

“That’s soon, isn’t it?” JJ mused. She took a few steps forward and sat on the edge of Derek’s desk.

“Depends on how you look at it.” He shrugged. “From when she “quit”, yeah, it’s soon. But I don’t think Hotch was looking for another agent yet and Strauss has been sniffing around since Garner, so it’s safe to say the brass had something to do with the new agent.”

“Have you ever met him? Her?” JJ asked, shifting her focus to Hotch’s slightly ajar door.

“Her.” Derek swiveled his chair and focused on the door as well. “I’ve never seen her before.”

JJ nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe a transfer?”

“Who knows.” He shrugged.

“Well,” JJ pushed off from the desk, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Get your shit together, we’ve got a case.” She lightly smacked him on the top of his head with the file she still held in her hand.

He playfully swiped it out of her hand and plopped it back on his pile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m ready.” He kicked his go bag that was on the floor next to him. “Five minutes?” He jerked his chin towards the conference room.

“Yeah. Just gotta grab my files.” She hefted her work bag onto her shoulder and grabbed the coat she’d set down on Elle’s empty desk.

“Coffee?” He asked, getting up.

“No, thank you.” He gave her a knowing nod.

JJ made her way to her office and set her things down. Rifling through her incredibly organized and not at all chaotic piles of files, she pulled the one she was looking for. Shuffling around her desk, she sat in her chair but paused before opening the file. The one that sat just off to the corner of her desk caught her eye. She flipped open the closed case file and once more analysed the picture of three smiling girls with their arms wrapped around each other.

JJ put the file down and let her eyes fall on a similar photo. One that had three girls in soccer uniforms smiling at the camera with their arms around each other. The girls in this photo are older. Even without the University of Pennsylvania jerseys, JJ knew she didn’t have any photos of the sort from her high school team. She wasn’t close enough to anyone on her high school team and no one would get that close to her. Her whole high school knew her as the sad, silent girl who had her whole family abandon her. A sister who took her own life and parents who left her. One physically, one mentally.

This was what she couldn’t talk about with Emily. As much as she felt safe and that she could be open with her, this was too big.

She put the photo down, her lip curled up in a sneer but her eyebrows scrunching in confusion. How did her aunt even get this photo? Her aunt that sat by and ignored JJ as she struggled to take care of her severely dissociated mother, let alone herself, at eleven years old. She hasn’t seen her aunt since her sister’s funeral.

JJ flung the photo on her desk. No. Don’t do this now. She closed her eyes and took a few grounding breaths. When the barrage of memories receded to the back corners of her mind, she opened her eyes. She looked at the clock. Two minutes. With a shake of her head, she opened their current case file.

After quickly refreshing herself on the details of their new case, she tucked the file under her arm and went to the conference room where she would present everything to the team.

A cup of coffee clunked onto the table as she shuffled the various documents for the case. “I told Reid and Penelope. They should be here soon.” Sitting heavily in his chair.

“Thanks. I’ll go get Gideon and Hotch.” She pat Derek’s shoulder gently and left the room.

She knocked on the open door of Gideon’s office. “We’re ready to get started.” All she got was a distracted grunt in answer, his attention never wavering from whatever he was reading. Typical. Moving onto Hotch’s office, she knocked gently and pushed the door open.

“Oh, excuse me. We’re getting started.” Her arms immediately broke out in a tingling sensation. Her focus was on Hotch, but she felt the heaviness of the new agent’s gaze. JJ flicked her eyes over to the woman and all function in her body paused. Oh my God. She met the striking gaze of the woman who she woke up underneath that morning. It was different though. There was shock in her eyes, and though they were just as beautiful as she remembered, there was some type of veil over them. In a second, Emily schooled her whole expression before turning away from her. JJ’s eyebrows shot to her hairline at the mask that quickly flashed across the woman’s face. Quicker than the one she put up yesterday.

“Thank you, I’ll be right there.” Hotch muttered, his stern gaze flickering over the paper in his hands.

JJ nodded slightly at him and glanced at the woman again. Her shoulders were rigid, her hands clasped together tighter than they needed to be in front of her midsection. JJ turned and left the office. That tension, the rigidity of her shoulders popped up periodically through the night. Jennifer had quickly recognized it as a guardedness that only came from being burned by the people who you should be able to trust the most. Her mother. The same guardedness that JJ had about her as well. My mother. My father. My sister.

She shook her head and took a few steps. What are the odds? JJ felt an iciness wash over her. I hope you matter tomorrow. JJ chuckled darkly. And now she does. But this isn’t what JJ wanted. Jennifer shared an intense insecurity over her job that she has carried for years. It was fine when Emily didn’t matter. It was fine when JJ’s deepest insecurity was something that could only be shared and not observed. Now Emily mattered. Now JJ’s insecurity was something Emily could form her own opinion of. She’d have to form her own opinion. And you’ve given her a head start to coming to the same conclusion the boys have.

“Morning JJ.” Reid said cheerfully. “You coming?” He gave her a bright smile and he came up to her with that familiar bob to his step. JJ gave him a nod and followed after him into the conference room.

It took all her every ounce of effort she could muster to keep her focused on the case. She gave her opinion far more than she often did, asked more questions, became a bigger part of the brainstorming process. But once they were dismissed on the plane to do their own thing, it was completely out of her hands. All she could think of was Emily. While this morning she felt a giddy warmth bubble up in her stomach, now she felt a cold sweat. She felt embarrassed at sharing such intimate details, unknowingly, with a coworker. She felt like she’d betrayed herself.

It’s been sixteen years since she lost her sister and in those sixteen years, JJ learned the hard way that the only person she could trust was herself. Her father, her mother, her sister. They all let her down and had long ago realised that she never wanted to give anyone that power again. So why did she open up to Emily? Why did she break her most important rule?

Roslyn, her sister, was the first one to let her down, although JJ knows she didn’t do it on purpose. However many times she’s tried, she can’t fully comprehend how much pain her sister must have been in that she felt she needed to end it all. Even on her darkest day, the thought never crosses her mind. That kind of betrayal is harder to stay mad at but at the same time JJ was an eleven-year-old girl. She feels the right to be a little bitter that her first experience with death is finding her sister’s pale, lifeless body floating in a dark red bathtub. Roslyn’s suicide created a ripple in JJ’s life that turned into crashing fifty-foot waves.

“Jayje, you okay?” Morgan tapped her shoulder. She looked up and saw him standing with his bag slung over his shoulder. JJ sat up and shifted her gaze to the windows.

“Oh, I didn’t even hear the pilots say we were landing.” She mumbled distractedly. Looking back up at Morgan, he had a concerned crease between his eyebrows. “I’m fine, just more tired than I thought.” She lied. She internally cringed because if it sounded like a brush off to her ears, he was sure to pick it up. Thankfully, the slow twist of his expression from concern to amusement told her otherwise.

“Oh, yeah? Just how late did your boy keep you up?”

JJ paused as she went to lift her bag onto her shoulder. Guess he wouldn’t know if I’ve never told him. She set the strap of her bag firmly on her shoulder and brushed past him. “We already talked about details, Derek.”

“Oh come on!” He shouted. “I need someone to talk about this with. Between stiff one and stiff two, and…that.” Morgan waved a hand at Reid who was solving a Rubiks cube without looking at it and talking a mile a minute to Hotch who was essentially a brick wall. “Give me something here blondie.”

He nudged her shoulder gently as they fell into step towards the SUV’s that have been left for them. “Isn’t that what your buddies are for?”

Morgan faked a shot to the heart. “I thought we were buddies.” JJ resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They weren’t buddies. They were friendly enough co workers and could keep up a good banter, but nothing more. “Come on, anything, even just one word.” JJ really rolled her eyes this time. He used to do this with Elle. Their social lives were much more in line with each other. They were buddies.

A moment of pity has JJ giving him an unimpressed side-eye. With a sigh, she tries to settle on what to say. It’s just one word, the truth can’t hurt. “It was special.” JJ says softly. Thoughtfully. That now familiar feeling of dread and longing settles in her stomach as she wishes that she could go back just a few hours to when it was hopeful and simple. Now it’s complicated, and entirely not hopeful.

Morgan raises his eyebrows in shock. Even though it was only three words, those three words were more personal than JJ had ever gotten with anyone on the team. “Yeah?” He said in a softer tone. His eyes were bright with excitement and hope. He’d been trying to get her to open up for years. When Elle came along she distracted him enough that he laid off her but now that she’s gone, he’s ramped it back up. “Tell me about him?”

A familiar itchy feeling returned to her body. The same one that she felt any time someone tried to ask for more than she was willing to give. Why could she ignore that feeling with Emily? Why did it go away as the night went on? It was like Emily set her off kilter. She felt unbalanced.

“Maybe another time?” She said as she heaved her bag onto her shoulder and moved passed him to exit the plane.

He fell in step with her as they walked across the tarmac. “Is that ever going to happen?” He asked with a bite of something in his voice. She gave him a quick glance, trying to harness that distance that she'd put between herself and the world. The excitement was gone and in its place was expected disappointment. She looked down at her feet, taking the last few steps where the remainder of their team was standing. She heard Morgan’s soft sigh at her silence, but sticks a hand out for the sheriff to shake.

“Hi, I’m Agent Jareau. We spoke on the phone. This is my team.” She introduces them with the same cold professionalism she always adopts.

She couldn’t turn her brain off. Well, she couldn’t turn off the part of her brain that was really fucking with her day. The part that thought of Emily. Her beautiful, striking brown eyes that stood out against soft porcelain skin. Her hair that felt like silk between her fingers. Toned body pressed against hers. Her lips…

JJ stood too quickly, stepping away from the table and reports that she hadn’t retained a word of. She made her way out of their borrowed conference room to the solitude of the woman’s bathroom. Sometimes it does pay off to be in a male-dominated environment, she almost never crosses paths with another person in any police station bathroom.

Splashing water on her face, she tries once again to clear her mind of Emily. Clear her mind of the way her thoughts start with her beauty, then move on to the goofy way she talks, then the vulnerable way her eyes would dart around to focus on anything in the room except for JJ, and finally her mind twists the beautiful memories from that night into dread and insecurity. For three days she’s been stuck in this cycle. Three days of trying too hard, becoming more involved than she normally would, desperately trying to prove to someone that she’s capable of more than she gets credit for. Three days since she fell from the highest high she’d ever felt. Stop being so dramatic. Get back to work. The ever-present part of her brain that always shuts down complicated emotions has her drying her hands and getting back to work.

“Make sure to say exactly those words.” Hotch said sternly.

“The wording is important, JJ.” Her back bristled in anxiety, stronger than usual. This is why we’re not buddies. She resisted rolling her eyes at the intensity of Morgan’s gaze. They constantly check in. Double, sometimes triple check to make sure she understands her duties. Will Emily look at me this way?

“Relax, it’s not my first party boys.” She holds back another eyeroll but does chuckle bitterly. Why can’t they trust me to do my job as much as I trust them to do theirs.

It’s this constant lack of confidence that makes the back of her neck tingle with insecurity. Even after years of doing her job flawlessly, they still look at her like they’re waiting for her to make a mistake that’s going to cost someone their life. It makes her think they might be right. Like it’s only a matter of time.

It’s because you’re a woman. She thinks maybe it’s not the case with Reid. He’s too logical to not have her fit into his puzzles exactly the way she should.

Gideon is much the same, but he doesn’t have the social blocker Reid does. He knows the social chasm of differences between men and women and partakes in some of them, but he also weighs the pros and cons of using everyone in any situation and can put aside a personal prejudice to achieve the best outcome or avoid the most collateral damage.

Hotch just plainly doesn’t trust women as much as men. He’s got the old-fashioned mentality that men are bigger, stronger, faster, smarter, than women. Period.

Morgan is a little tougher. He doesn’t trust her capabilities because his trust comes from a more tactile place. Simply put, she’s not in the field much. She doesn’t run around tackling unsubs so the strengths she shows within her job description just don’t do it for him. He sees her as the skirt she wears to be the pretty face of the BAU, he doesn’t see her as the gun toting FBI agent she is trained to be.

JJ cleans up the conference room as the boys cover loose ends with their two unsubs. She did her press conference perfectly, just like she always does, and nothing will change the next time. They’ll still check in to make sure she’s doing her job right and not trust that she can follow instructions the first time.

The plane ride back had her mostly secluded to her own corner of the jet looking for their next case. That is, until Morgan interrupted her. Who am I kidding? I’ve barely gotten through one case file.

She kept her gaze on her case file pretending to read the words hoping he wasn’t going to start the conversation she didn’t want to have.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Okay, that wasn’t where she thought he was gonna go.

She feigned confusion. “What? Of course I trust you. None of us doubt your abilities as an agent, Morgan.” The single ounce of bitterness that crept into her tone was too much to fool him.

He cocked his head slightly and gave her a pointed look. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You don’t tell us anything. Any of us. I know nothing about you except your job title and where you went to school.”

She flicked her gaze up at him and quickly looked back to her file. “Don’t worry, you aren’t alone. I don’t tell anyone more than that.” Keep it cold. Scare them away.

“Why? JJ that’s not right. It’s not healthy to hold everything in. Even silly things like how a date went.” He looked at her with pity and annoyance. She pushed the embarrassment away that kicked at her cheeks and replaced it with fire that burned with a cold heat.

“I don’t trust anyone, for good reason, and badgering me isn’t going to make us pals so if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” She slipped ice into her tone and levelled him with a stare that she felt was positively glacial. You're teetering too far. She ignored the burn of guilt in her stomach as he stared at her, completely taken aback. She was still off balanced. She's leaning to far passed frosty and has moved into blatant hostility. When his shock turned to sad understanding, she had to look away. She kept her gaze on her file and resisted the urge to gulp away the rough lump in her throat as he got up slowly. He took a step into the aisle before turning back.

“You know,” JJ closed her eyes and gripped the paper until in creased, “we all have a past, we all have a story. I’m not ready to talk about mine either but if you’ll be open to listening to me when or if I am ready, I’ll be here for you. Sound good?”

She could only raise her head to look at him a moment. Dropping her gaze once more she gave him short, firm nod. She appreciates the sentiment but will probably never take him up on that offer.

He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and made his way down the aisle. It’s hard to trust someone when they could walk away and leave you floundering at any moment.

Memories of her father flashed through her mind. Polaroid images of him teaching her how to fish, how to shoot, how to brush the horses, how to ride a bike, holding her when she was scared, kicking a soccer ball with her, so many mundane everyday memories. Mundane memories that were followed by terrible ones. Him covering her ears as her mother screamed and screamed, telling her “It’s okay, Jelly Bean, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you.”, his face, pale with horror, as he stood by Roslyn’s casket.

And then she was just alone. He left. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t pick her mother up from how far she fell into the abyss, and he couldn’t look at JJ, not after that day with the open casket. When she was older, she realized it was because she looked so much like her sister, and he couldn’t bear it.

With a shake of her head, she flipped her case file shut. Well, that’s not happening now. She huffed and set her attention to the window, not that she could see anything anyway, but soon enough her mind wandered away from the dark and depressing and towards the other thing that has been occupying all of JJ’s brain capacity. Emily

What am I going to do about Emily? What could she do, really? She’s here and she’ll be here for the foreseeable future. Treat her like any other coworker…at arms length. Ignore the pull you have towards her. The attraction. Ignore the way she quietly understands you from such a short amount of time. Ignore the level of intimacy you settled into. The familiarity. Ignore how easy it was to be with her. Ignore everything. It won’t work now anyways.

JJ shuffled to the seat next to the window and laid her head against it, welcomed the cool press of the glass on her temple, and closed her eyes. She wouldn’t fall asleep; she never does on the plane. Though now she feels more exhausted than ever. She tries to clear all corners of her mind. The past week have drained all her energy, and her patience has grown thin enough that it’s about to snap.

When the plane lands, she quietly packs away her files and picks Gideon and Hotch’s SUV to make the short drive back to the office. They’re less likely to talk to her but she couldn’t help but catch the way Hotch’s eyes flicked to her once or twice in the rearview mirror.

She followed behind the two men as the three of them stepped into the bull pen. She felt it as soon as she walked through the doors and nothing could have stopped her from looking up and searching for those soulful brown eyes. When she caught them through the glass of Hotch’s office, she instantly felt a wave of calm spread through her body.  It only lasted a second as reality caught up with her. Dropping her gaze she power-walked to her office.

Now she paced. Over and over. Her thumb nail shoved aggressively between her teeth, and she watch Hotch’s office door through her window. Her gaze never wavered. She’d not even sure if she blinked. Either way she didn’t miss the bane of her existence walking through that door looking incredibly triumphant. She watched her pause and slowly look around. Like a moth to a flame, their eyes met once more but this time JJ didn’t look away and neither did Emily. In fact, she kept firm unwavering eye contact the entire walk to JJ’s office door.

Crap was the only thought she had as she realized she was trapped and now forced into some type of conversation she wasn't prepared to have. Her spine locked into place, defences snapping tight one by one. Don’t be a bitch. Don’t be a bitch. Don’t. Be. A. Bitch.

Emily smiles softly at her as she takes a step over the threshold. That smile sends JJ spiralling into a memory of Emily laying with her hands crossed together high up on JJ’s stomach. Her chin rests on her hands, and she’s got that small, soft smile on her face. Her eyes have a dopey, glazed look as she listens to JJ ramble. That smile sends a wave of an intimacy that was so familiar but entirely unfamiliar at the same time. An intimacy she thought she could trust.

“Do you have the stomach for it?”

JJ, previously completely frozen, thaws out in a way that’s entirely unnatural. Her hand that was up around her face makes a sharp smack against her thigh as she puts it down. She turns too quickly, sits down too hard in her chair.

Her back goes up just like it did when she heard those words in Emily’s living room but this time there’s no reassurances. JJ feels like a deer in headlights, but she squares her shoulders.

“Hello.” She says professionally, her comfort zone.

“Hi.” Emily says softly. JJ’s heart clenches at the way Emily twist her fingers together awkwardly. Another familiar gesture. “This is kind of crazy isn’t it.” She gives a small chuckle.

JJ looks away when she hears the sound and picks up a random file.

JJ’s panic twisted into something sharper. She didn’t know how to reconcile Emily’s presence here — not after how bare she’d let herself become. Anger was easier than vulnerability. Safer. “I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you here. But I guess you would’ve known I’d be here. I did leave you my card after all.” She already hates the tone of voice she’s using. Cold, detached. Muscle memory kicking in. Keep everyone out. That’s what you want, isn’t it?

She sees Emily’s sheepish smile dim. Her hand still and JJ’s watches in real time as Emily’s soft, goofy expression clouds over into something more closed off. She’s matching my energy.

“I didn’t get a chance to look at it, so no, I didn’t know you’d be here.” Emily says bluntly. “I’m assuming I shouldn’t use the number on it.”

JJ swallowed the lump in her throat. Ignored the burning guilt in her belly. “You’ll have to use it. We’re on the same team now.”

Emily stares with such a dead look in her eye for a few moments and then let’s out one scoff of dark laughter. “You know that night wasn’t easy for me. It’s not easy for me to open up. I actually thought I was going crazy. Or that I’d lost my touch, but no, you’re just trained to get through my walls.” She finishes bitterly.

“Actually, I’m not.” She pointed at the nameplate, each syllable sharper than intended. It was a reflex, that cold mask — she watched it land, winced inside, but couldn’t pull it back. “I’m the communications liaison. I’m not a profiler. But even so, you have that training as well as the training to keep me out. So why didn’t you?” Way to not be a bitch, Jareau.

By the look on her face, Emily thought so too. “I guess I didn’t think I had to.” A cool professional mask was covering Emily’s face. Truly locked down like a seasoned profiler. “I’m sorry I matter today.” JJ felt all the blood drain from her face. Her carefully composed mask of cool professionalism crumpled as she watched Emily avert her gaze and turn away. “Have a good evening, Agent Jareau.” She threw over her shoulder, tone monotonous, and left the office.

Bile rose to her throat as she watched her walk away. She felt her lungs collapse, her stomach drop to the floor, and something else—something deeper—cracked under the weight of what she’d just done. She hadn’t meant to shut the door so hard. “Fuck.”

Chapter Text

JJ stared at the ceiling. I should just get up. She looked at the clock beside her bed. 4:48 am. Way too early. With a roll of her eyes, she threw the covers back and let out a tired sigh. She’d spent the whole night tossing and turning thinking about Emily. About how she treated Emily. She’s so distant from everyone in her life and barely bats an eye, surely doesn’t lose a night of sleep from it. But yet with Emily, her stomach has been churning with guilt. Her skin itched with unease. Her neck burned, not from vulnerability, but from shame. Not because she opened up. Because she couldn’t handle it like a rational, well-adjusted adult. That’s because you’re not.

She jerked the shower handle to cold, jolting her body away from the warmth and comfort she craved, and over to a detached iciness she was familiar with. She did her best to focus on how cold the spray was and not on the familiar feelings of uneasiness over the armour she’d built to protect herself from the world. It took years to remove all the chink’s that could be her downfall, but now it seemed Emily had the tip of her blade pressed against a deeply hidden vulnerability and JJ didn’t know how to disarm her. She hated their talk the night before and she can’t imagine doing it again.

Does she suck it up, bear down, and trust her tried and true method of keeping her body, heart, and sound from taking anymore damage?

Or does she give in knowing that if she does, Emily will absolutely chip away every bit of that armour until nothing’s left to protect her if she decides to walk away like everyone else has.

JJ walked into the bullpen and her eyes immediately found Emily sat at Elle’s old desk talking to Garcia. Her smile was too wide as she sat and listened to enthusiastic chatter going a mile a minute. When Emily put her own two cents in, her hands were clasped elegantly in front of her. There was no wild movements or overzealous gestures. Not even a lazy twitch of a finger. Those hands from her memories were constantly dancing. Even last night they were squirming before JJ effectively slapped her in the face. Those hands had shown passion. They were expressive, charming, full of feeling. Now, they sat still, subdued. The contrast unsettled her.

She didn’t realize she was standing there, staring, until Emily looked her way. JJ watched as her smile dimmed to a level that seemed more real, a small quirk to her lips, a glisten in her eye. Maybe she was just imagining all that but, real or not, it told her that Emily had already removed a chunk of her armour that tipped JJ off balance, and she wasn’t sure how or if she could rebuild it.

JJ glanced down at the file she’d just been handed and looked back up. Emily’s face was carefully placed into that same look of distant professionalism she’d been left with last night. Swallowing roughly, she closed the distance between herself and the two other women.

“Morning, JJ!” Penelope’s normally bubbly persona was amplified by the excitement of the new agent. “Emily Prentiss, this is Jennifer Jareau, but we call her JJ. She doesn’t like to be called Jennifer.” Garcia stage whispered. She may have been annoyed if she wasn’t so caught up with the information she’d just given Emily.

Maybe you don’t feel like being that person right now.

JJ glanced at Emily and knew immediately she was replaying the same words in her own head. Emily professional mask gained a fleck of curiosity with a dash of understanding.

“It’s nice to meet you JJ.” She gave a polite smile and held out a hand to shake. She hated it. She hated Emily calling her that. Thought it’s much better than Agent Jareau. She hated but loved the tingle that shot up her arm when she caught Emily’s hand in a quirk firm handshake.

“Welcome to the team.” She dropped Emily hand and held up the file she’d picked up from HR on her way up. “You’ll be doing your on-boarding with me. We’ll only have time to go over protocol today so that you’ll know the ground rules and can join in right away. I got a call on the way over here, we’ve got a case. Pretty urgent, potentially very bad. Your paperwork will have to wait till we put the fire out.” Her voice was clipped, efficient—but it carried a tightness that didn’t belong. Garcia noticed. Of course she noticed. She’d really have to get a handle on herself until she figures out how she’s going to handle this situation.

“Uh,” Garcia stuttered slightly, “we’ll go wait in the conference room for you?” She asked awkwardly.

“Yes, please. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Going over protocol and trying to make it seem like everything was normal, and fine, and that JJ wasn’t going through some type of existential crisis, was difficult to say the least. It’s been peak awkwardness with Garcia there to observe JJ’s seemingly unwarranted iciness, not that it’s actually warranted either, and Emily’s professionalism that only wavers when she talks directly to Garcia. It bugs JJ.

By the time Hotch comes barreling into the conference room, she’s already exhausted. Physically from the lack of sleep and mentally from well, her own self-imposed bullshit. That being said, she slips when she’s going through the case details. When she pulls the message that was intercepted, she handed it right to Emily.

“It’s not the transcript but it’s in Arabic.” JJ waited expectantly for Emily to read it and after a small quirk in her lips, she did just that.

JJ froze, and so did the room, as Emily began to translate. When she was finished, she didn’t miss the periodic looks she got from the team as she tried to finish presenting the details of the case. She kept her head down at the table as she put all her files back together. JJ took a deep breath and let it out loudly to the empty room before gathering up all her things to leave.

Voices as she hit the threshold made her stop.

“So, where’d you come from because I know I haven’t seen you around here.” Morgan leaned against his desk. So casual, dripping with charm. He gave her that cheeky smirk he likes to give all the pretty agents or officers he meets across the country. Can’t blame him.

"And how do you know that?" She answered him with her own cheeky smirk, one that holds the same cockiness. The same charm and lazy intensity. It’s captivating but there’s just the right amount of indifference. It’s gorgeous and sexy and alluring but entirely different from the way Emily carried herself that first night they met. Watching her flash that smile at Morgan made her skin crawl and her stomach ache with jealousy. You deserve it.

"I would remember that smile."

"Hmm." She pursed her lips and nodded but stepped in a bit closer. "I think you need to work on your lines there, stud." She patted his arm patronizingly.

"Okay, okay." He held up his hands, thoroughly amused. "I'll work on it."

Emily snorted loudly and with less poise than she's shown all morning. "Don't waste your time." Morgan's eyebrows raised suspiciously. "I don't date coworkers." He searched a moment longer to find some other meaning but must have come up short because he straightened up.

"I'm just playing with you." JJ knew Morgan wouldn't cross that line, he had the hots for Elle but never made a move, but her body still relaxed as he turned off the charm and turned on his regular professional attitude. And, yet again, it irritated her when she saw Emily match his energy completely. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was that irked her so much about it. "Have a good first day, make some profiles." He gave her shoulder a pat as he walked away.

Emily chuckled lightly and looked up like she could feel JJ staring at her. Their eyes met briefly before JJ put her head down and marched to her office. Once she got there, she tried (really tried) to get some actual work done but her eyes had a mind of their own. They searched through the window and (instantly) found Emily standing awkwardly playing with her fingers, staring towards Hotch's office. When Hotch and Gideon emerged from his office, Emily slowly pulled her go bag off the ground and set it on the desk. She practically looked at the ceiling when they two men looked in her direction. The whole thing was so similar to the bumbling, awkward Emily she remembered that she didn't realize until they'd all left the bull pen that she had a fond smile on her face and the bitterness in her stomach calmed to a gentle swirl.

What was that? Thirty seconds? That's all it takes to calm the storm inside of you?

JJ shook her head out (what is happening to me?) and forced herself to focus—on the case, on choosing their next one, on anything that wasn’t Emily. But her mind still wandered, still circled back to her. She figured Emily must be good at her job if…

JJ paused as something occurred to her. She flipped open Emily’s file she’d only allowed herself to briefly scan over and fully read it now. Her employment history basically consisted of desk jobs in various Midwest offices for the last decade. But Emily told her she hadn’t been in the country for the last ten years. That’s how she said she avoided her mother. So why the clean, dull trail of stateside desk jobs? Why lie, unless there’s something big she’s hiding?

Focus JJ! Emily was going to seriously put her ability to do her job effectively at risk. That thought sobered her up. Don’t need to give anyone else any more ammunition against me.

By the early afternoon she’d had their next case narrowed down to two and was out of useful things she could do without direction, so she went to find some. A quick scan around the bullpen showed no signs of her team but she did hear whisperings of “anthrax” and “bomb”, so she quickly changed direction to Garcia’s office.

When she opened the door, she found a furiously typing Garcia and a room full of monitors that looked like they were on the fritz but figured there wasn’t enough panic for that.

“What the heck is going on here?”

JJ was glad she came here. It was the first time this morning that she’d felt actually useful and unflustered as she made the phone call to Hotch with the next location for them to check out.

“Hotch thinks they have another bomb that’s ready to be armed at the new location.”

Garcia paused her ferocious typing. “Do you think the boys would leave it up to a SWAT team to go in?”

JJ gave Garcia a look. “What do you think?” There wasn’t a single second she’d hesitate to trust Hotch and Morgan with her life—they’d proven themselves over and over. But her mind? Her heart? The fragile pieces that made her who she was? She wouldn’t let anyone near those.

Garcia picked up a ringing phone, but JJ barely registered it. Her mind had already gone somewhere she didn’t want it to go. She gripped the edge of the desk, but even that felt too far away. Her body stayed in Garcia’s office, but her mind fell backward.

A coffee mug hurtled past her head and exploded against the wall behind her. Her mother didn’t even flinch, just muttered something about Roslyn being late for dinner. JJ didn’t remind her that Roslyn had been dead for months.

“You took her from me.” Her mother whispered, not looking at JJ, not even sure if she was looking at JJ. Her gaze drifted across the empty corner of the room where no one stood. “You dragged her into the water.”

Her mother sat crouched in the bathtub, fully clothed, holding Roslyn’s favourite sweater. It was soaked. “I can’t find her.” She spoke. “Help me find her, Jenny.”

"She’s still here.” Her mother insisted, pointing to the empty chair across from her. “She’s just quiet today.” JJ didn’t argue anymore. She just nodded and brought soup neither of them would eat.

The memories receded, but the weight of them lingered. JJ stayed there for a moment, letting the echoes wash over her, not fighting them this time.

The stove was always on. The milk was always sour. JJ learned to check everything. To fix everything. To be the adult. She called 911 once. Just once. They came, looked around, gave her mother a soft voice and pamphlets. After they left, her mother locked JJ in the laundry room for five hours. JJ learned how to dodge without thinking. Anything could become a projectile; cups of undrunk tea, bowls of uneaten food, photo frames. And then there was the quieter danger: the glassy, blank stillness that sometimes lasted hours. JJ never really grieved Roslyn. There was no room. Her grief was consumed by the gaping hole her mother left behind when her mind fractured and wandered somewhere JJ couldn’t follow.

JJ blinked back into the present, Garcia’s voice cutting faintly through the fog of memory.

“Hey. Earth to JJ?” Garcia said gently. “I’ve said your name, like, three times.”

JJ straightened slightly, rubbing her temple like it might ground her. “Sorry. Long night.”

Garcia tilted her head, studying her. “Yeah, I figured. You’ve got that thousand-yard stare going on—and trust me, I know a dissociative spiral when I see one.”

JJ offered a tight, humourless smile. “It’s nothing.”

Garcia didn’t respond right away. She just let the silence stretch before sliding her chair slightly closer. “So…what do you think about Emily so far?”

JJ let out a breath and almost cursed that this topic was only just easier to talk about. “She seems fine. Too soon to tell what kind of role she’ll play on the team.”

Garcia raised an eyebrow. “Did you read that off a script?”

JJ turned back to the chemical list. “We’ve got a case to focus on.”

Garcia kept her eyes on her. “Sure. But that doesn’t explain why you turned into a damn glacier the second she walked in this morning. Or why she suddenly looked like someone kicked her puppy.”

JJ didn’t answer. Her jaw ticked. I don't have the energy to deal with this right now.

“I mean, it’s not like I expect you to throw her a welcome party, but...you’ve been off. Distant. Even for you.”

“That’s generous.” JJ muttered.

Garcia paused. Her voice softened, but only slightly. “You know, I really was just trying to check in. Be a friend. But if this is what I get for it…” She trailed off, shaking her head, turning back to her monitor. “I know you keep everyone at arm’s length, JJ. I’ve always respected that. But some of us still try. It wouldn’t kill you to meet us halfway every once in a while.”

That stung more than JJ expected. Garcia never shut doors. Not even cracked. But now, she turned fully back to her screen, shoulders tight, her usual warmth drained from the room.

JJ opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Her eyes caught the smoke curling on the TV screen, and a chill threaded down her spine

“Garcia, isn’t Annandale where Morgan and Hotch are?”

Her mind went foggy as Garcia fumbled for her phone. Each breath JJ took grew sharper with every chant of “Pick up, pick up,” that Garcia whispered like a prayer. Only when she heard Garcia’s sudden exhale of relief did her lungs finally catch up.

But her body didn’t relax. The panic had already sunk into her bones. Her fingers stayed clenched at her sides. Her heart wouldn’t slow down. All she could see was smoke and fire, Hotch’s command gone silent, Morgan’s steadiness swallowed in dust and chaos.”

It’s always like this. One second you’re mid-sentence, the next you're bracing for the worst news of your life. That kind of fear never fully leaves you, it just waits. Lurks.

Her thoughts slipped to Emily, another face she could lose without warning. Another name she’d have to hear in a tone that meant it was already too late.

JJ felt the guilt curl tighter around her chest. She could shut Garcia out, freeze her out, pretend she didn’t care. But she couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t shatter if something happened to Emily.

Why?

The question came unbidden, thick and unrelenting. Why does she have this kind of hold on me?

JJ’s eyes remained fixed on the screen even though the danger had passed, at least for now. The smoke on the television was still billowing. Her nerves were still frayed. Her heart was still pounding.

Emily Prentiss, this woman she barely knew, had cracked something open in her that JJ had kept sealed for years. Decades, even. She’d survived her sister’s death. Survived her mother’s unraveling. Survived being the only one she could count on. And yet somehow, this, a pair of knowing brown eyes and a handful of conversations, felt more dangerous than any unsub.

Why does she see the parts of me I’ve spent a lifetime hiding, and why does it feel like I want her to?

She hated it. The way Emily made her feel exposed. Seen. The way one single look could silence her better than any trauma ever had. The way it wasn’t just attraction…it was something deeper, sharper. Like Emily had reached in and gripped something fragile JJ hadn’t even realized was still beating.

JJ’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to care. Not like this. Not this much. Not this fast. Not her.

And yet, here she was. Breath caught in her chest like Emily had reached inside and pressed down on something vital.

Garcia let out one last shaky breath as she dropped the phone onto her desk, her hand trembling slightly. “They’re okay.” she whispered, more to herself than JJ.

JJ hadn’t moved. She still felt locked in place—heart racing, throat tight, mind tangled. It was too much all at once: the memories, the explosion, the guilt, the confusion about Emily.

“You were gonna say something,” Garcia said softly, not looking up from her screen. Her voice had lost some of its earlier heat but not all of it. “Before all hell broke loose.”

JJ blinked, tried to rewind time in her head. Was I?

Garcia turned her chair halfway. Not open. Not closed. “Look, I don’t need the whole truth. But maybe just…don’t lie to me, okay?”

JJ looked at her, the urge to explain fighting with the instinct to run. She wished she could say something neat and tidy that would patch it all up. But she didn’t have neat. She had decades of damage and a growing attachment to someone she barely understood.

So instead, she offered the only honesty she could manage.

"I’m sorry,” she said, quietly. “You didn’t deserve the way I acted.”

Garcia studied her for a moment. Then she gave a small nod, lips still tight.

“I know when someone’s not okay, JJ,” she said gently. “I won’t push. But don’t make me the enemy for caring about you.”

JJ swallowed hard. “I’m not.”

Garcia let that sit for a beat. Then, with a half-sigh, she tapped her keyboard again. “Good. Because whatever’s going on…” she glanced sideways with the smallest smirk, “it’s got claws.”

JJ’s eyes drifted back to the smoke on the TV. Yeah, she thought grimly. It does.

Garcia had gone quiet again, her screen now showing clean maps and sealed files. The case was over. They’d found the last bomb, the arrests were made, and Hotch called the operation a win in his usual clipped, emotionless way. But JJ couldn’t feel the resolution. Not really.

They got lucky. That’s all it was. Those men were so close to killing hundreds, maybe thousands if it spread farther than the mall.

As the adrenaline faded, JJ was left only with the ache beneath it. The fog hadn’t lifted, it had simply changed shape. She wanted Emily close, closer than was safe, closer than her rules allowed. And yet she’d slammed the door on her with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Now all she could do was watch her, like a stranger passing on a road she should’ve taken.

JJ leaned against the bullpen doorway, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she watched Emily and Reid return from their briefing with the team. Something about Emily’s gait, the casual lilt in her voice, the way her hands fluttered when she spoke, it all set something off in JJ.

Emily was talking about some obscure piece of Cold War trivia, bouncing details off Reid with a low, steady voice that clearly wanted to match his tempo. She wasn’t regurgitating facts like Reid did; she was offering commentary; what she found interesting, what she thought was wild, what she remembered from whatever obscure document she’d dug into years ago.

JJ’s eyes narrowed.

She knew Emily was smart. Brilliant, even. She had nothing to prove. And yet here she was, tilting herself toward Reid’s wavelength, reshaping her cadence to match his. It wasn’t combative. It wasn’t desperate. It was…calculated. Adaptive. Familiar.

Too familiar.

Emily had done the same thing with her. That night. The easy warmth. The way she mirrored JJ’s honesty, her vulnerability. JJ hadn’t imagined it, she’d felt it. Seen it. Trusted it.

So why now did it feel like she was watching Emily audition for someone else?

A slow, angry coil twisted in JJ’s chest.

Was that all it had been? A performance? A calculated softening of edges to get under her skin? To earn her trust? To make her fold?

Because it worked.

JJ shoved off the doorway and turned sharply toward her office, the echo of Emily’s laughter behind her sparking a fresh burn of frustration under her skin.

She didn’t want to care. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to stay mad. But none of it made sense. Emily felt like something JJ couldn’t stop reaching for, even while she was trying to push her away.

She sat heavily in her chair and glared at the onboarding packet still sitting on her desk.

She stood and opened her office door. Emily was still mid-conversation with Reid, her smile just a little too wide for JJ’s current tolerance.

“Prentiss.” JJ called, voice sharp and clipped. Emily looked up, startled. “We still need to finish your paperwork.”

JJ didn’t wait for a response, just turned and walked back into her office, trusting Emily would follow. She did. JJ heard the door click shut behind her, but she didn’t look up. Couldn’t. If she saw her face right now, calm, composed, unreadable, it would only make her angrier.

JJ sat, the onboarding packet already waiting. Her fingers found the edge of the papers like they had something to do on autopilot. A shield.

She passed each page clinically, avoiding Emily’s gaze like it might burn her.

“Page three.” She said stiffly. “You forgot to initial.”

Emily blinked, slow and unreadable. “Thanks.” She said, reaching for the document in question.

JJ didn’t look at her. Couldn’t.

“You seemed real comfortable earlier.” She said, too flat to pass as casual.

Emily paused. “What?”

“With Reid. With everyone.” JJ flipped the page a little too hard. “Really finding your rhythm, huh?”

There was a pause, long enough to throb.

“I was just talking.” Emily said, her voice edged now.

“Right,” JJ muttered. "And flirting with Morgan? What's that? Just figuring out what version of you people want and serving it up?" Her voice was too casual for how much hurt she put into it. Too cold to match the fire twisting in her chest. A knot of guilt settling in beside the jealousy knowing that this was a low blow.

Part of that was squashing a lot of who I really am so that I could be the person she needed me to be. My old job had me do the same thing over and over again and sometimes I forget who the real Emily is. I guess when I saw you, I just wanted to be Emily.

She’d thrown it back at her. That moment Emily had trusted her with; mocked, twisted, discarded. JJ felt it hit in her chest like recoil. That wasn’t fair. None of this was.

Emily let out a breath, sharp, almost a laugh. Disbelieving. “What the hell did I do, JJ?”

JJ’s fingers twitched on the file. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Emily leaned forward. Not angry yet, but close. “You’ve been ice cold since I walked into this office last night.”

JJ rolled her eyes, started flipping through pages like the conversation wasn’t happening. Like she could retreat into professionalism. “Forget it. Let's just get this over with."

“No.” Emily’s voice didn’t rise. It just hardened. “You don’t get to be cruel and pretend it’s nothing. You don’t get to shut down on me.”

JJ looked up, her stare flat. “You just walk in and act like you belong here. Like you're already everyone's best friend.”

Emily’s brow furrowed. “I’m just trying to connect, JJ. Is that so wrong? At least I’m making an effort.”

“Yeah," JJ scoffed, "I see what you’re doing. You did it with me. Now you’re doing it with Reid. You…you just morph into whatever gets you accepted fastest. And the flirting?” JJ gave her a mocking look.

Emily recoiled. “That wasn’t flirting. And even if it was, what does it matter to you?” Her voice dropped, pinched. “You made it pretty damn clear that anything outside a frosty professional relationship is off-limits.”

“You don’t let anyone in, JJ” Emily pressed, stepping closer. “What kind of friend are you to them? You’re polite, sure, but you’re as distant as a ghost. I doubt any of these people even know how you take your coffee."

“Don’t—” JJ started, warning sharp in her tone. That one hit deeper than she wanted to admit. She didn’t know why she always turned Morgan down when he asked. Just that she did.

But Emily didn’t stop. “You judge me for trying to be relatable, but you’re the one acting like you don’t care if anyone actually knows you.”

JJ flinched. It landed like a punch.

“You don’t know me.” She bit out. It was cold. A reflex. Armour snapping into place.

“Exactly. Two days, JJ, that’s all it took to figure out you don’t let anyone in.” Emily said, her voice suddenly raw. “I wish you would let me. Because for one night, I thought you wanted to be known. To be seen.”

JJ opened her mouth to speak—but what came out surprised them both. “Because all the people that have seen me, left.”

It shocked them both. Emily froze. Her breath hitched. There it was. JJ hadn’t meant to say it. The silence between them stretched. Too long. Too raw.

Emily’s voice softened. “I wouldn't hurt you.”

JJ’s eyes dropped first. Her voice came out smaller, cracked. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Emily signed page three and stepped back, like something in her spine had finally released. Her voice softened, but it didn’t lose its weight.

“Then just say that.” She said. “Don’t punish me for trying.”

JJ didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her chest felt too tight, like there wasn’t room for words. She didn’t know how to fix what she’d broken, only that Emily was still standing there, still trying. And JJ had no idea what to do with that.

When JJ didn't say anything else, Emily just tsked and left the office.

The door clicked shut behind Emily like a full stop. JJ didn’t move.

Her fingers stayed curled around the edges of the onboarding packet, but the words blurred. Her ears still rang with Emily’s voice.

Then just say that. Don’t punish me for trying.

JJ let out a long, unsteady breath.

She didn’t mean to say that thing about people leaving. She hadn’t even known it was waiting on her tongue until it spilled out. But it was true. And Emily didn't flinched.

JJ leaned back in her chair, head tipping against the glass wall. Her heart was still racing. But not from anger. Not even from regret. It was something else.

A dawning awareness that it didn’t matter how hard she tried to bury it, every instinct in her body wanted Emily close. Wanted to reach across the table and ask her to stay. To tell her stupid little facts about herself, like how she hates orange-flavoured candy but loves orange-flavoured chocolate. Or how she will never remember to bring reusable bags with her to the grocery store and will inevitable buy another one to join her astonishing collection.

Things that didn’t matter but meant everything when you didn’t share them with anyone.

You don’t let anyone in, JJ.

Maybe it was time to change that.

Over the next few days, JJ tried. She really, genuinely tried.

Tiny, fumbling attempts, each one deliberate, each one feeling more like scaling a cliff than taking a step. It wasn’t like she expected to fix anything overnight. But she kept reminding herself: you don’t let anyone in. And maybe it was time to change that.

She lingered a little longer near the break room when Garcia made a joke. Nodded along to one of Reid’s tangents about lunar calendars even though she didn’t follow half of it.  She started sitting more often at the communal desks instead of hiding in her office, even if her case notes stayed clutched in her hands like a security blanket.

When Morgan stood up get a coffee from the cafe in the cafeteria. He threw the question to her like he did every time. "Coffee?" But he was already turning away, expecting her rejection.

JJ’s mouth opened to say "no, thank you", the automatic answer. The polite brush-off. The script she always stuck to.

I doubt any of these people even know how you take your coffee.

"Yes." She practically shouted. Unnaturally. She cleared her throat and tried not to have her cheeks redden at his blatant look of shock as his body jerked to a stop. "Um, I mean, yes please."

"Yeah?" His whole face lit up. Not teasing. Just...pleasantly surprised.

"Yes." She said again at a regular decibel. Her ass was sweating. God, why are you so ridiculous? Childhood trauma, her brain offered helpfully. JJ almost laughed.

He hesitated. "So..." He dragged the word out when she just never said anything, "What would you like?"

"Uh..." Her brain froze. What do I like? Why can't I remember what I like? Just say a word. Any coffee  word. "Latte." She blurted out.

Morgan’s smile widened. “Look at that. JJ’s a latte girl.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Don’t make it weird.” She shocked herself that that small bit of banter slipped out.

“No promises,” he called, already heading off down the hall.

JJ sat for a beat longer, heart still beating faster than it should. It was just coffee. But it wasn’t.

When he came back...he made it weird. But in the best way. He passed out cups to a few other agents before walking straight up to her desk.

“Latte, for Blondie,” he said grandly, pulling it from the tray and setting it down with a dramatic flourish. Then, God help her, he pulled out snacks. A banana from one pocket, a granola bar from another, and a pastry bag from under his arm like he was performing a magic trick. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I brought options.”

His face was so genuinely proud of himself, JJ couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you, Derek.” He stood there for a moment, eyes bouncing between her and the snacks until she picked one. She grabbed the banana, and he nodded like she’d passed a test.

"Can I have the granola bar?" Reid asked from his desk.

Morgan held up a hand, scandalized. “No! They’re for her.” He pointed at JJ. “She might want the others later.”

With that, he returned to his own desk, mission accomplished. JJ watched him go, still smiling. Then her eyes flicked sideways...to Emily. Emily sat at her desk, coffee hovering halfway to her lips, watching with an expression JJ couldn’t quite decode. Not judgment. Not amusement. Something quieter. Something curious.

JJ looked away quickly. Took a sip of her latte.

It was just coffee.

But it wasn’t.

After that coffee she started making more of an effort...and somehow coffee always ended up involved. It's what people seemed to do. Stand around in the break room drinking coffee and just...talking.

None of the conversations were deep. No one was baring their soul over burnt office coffee and vending machine snacks. But that wasn’t the point. The point was she didn’t immediately retreat to her office the second she had an excuse. She didn’t shut the door. She didn’t pretend she was too busy.

Socializing just to socialize was…foreign. JJ was used to her interactions having purpose. Scheduling, strategy, logistics. A carefully maintained front of approachability without ever actually connecting. But now she was trying to fill those gaps on purpose. To be present. To be known even in small, low-risk ways.

She was awkward at it. Clumsy. A little too stiff. And more than once, she caught herself monitoring the interaction like she was prepping someone else for the cameras instead of participating in it. But still, she showed up. She stayed a little longer.

And somehow, that felt like progress.

Every now and then, she’d catch Emily watching her, not intrusively, not even with expectation. Just…observing. Like she was learning her. JJ didn’t know what Emily was seeing.

But she felt it.

And she didn’t look away.

The next case didn’t give her much room to breathe. It didn’t exactly lend itself to bonding. But even then, JJ tried.

On the jet, she didn’t isolate. JJ sat beside Reid and surprised them both by asking, “Do you like working here?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah. I do.”

JJ nodded once. “Cool.”

"Do you?" He volleyed.

"Yeah." She answered with a genuine smile.

In the conference room, Morgan cracked a joke about Hotch’s “resting glare face.” The others chuckled, and for once, JJ didn’t just huff a conciliatory laugh.

She added, dryly, “I think that’s just his regular face.”

Morgan laughed, actually laughed, and turned slightly toward her. “Look at JJ, throwing punches.”

She shrugged, but there was a flicker of satisfaction behind her eyes. It felt good to be included. To join the moment instead of just surviving it.

While waiting with Garcia for one of her many digital searches to run, Garcia made a reference to Princess Bride complete with an overdramatic voice to pair.

JJ, who normally would’ve just smiled and let it pass, tilted her head and asked, “Do you actually like that movie, or is it just a bit?”

Garcia lit up. “Are you kidding? That movie raised me.”

JJ gave the smallest smile. “Good to know.” JJ paused a moment as a thought came to her. "You know...Gideon looks like he could be Inigo Montoya's dad."

Garcia blinked, clearly surprised, but also a little delighted. Her whole self brightened, and she just responded with a clear, concise "yes." Then she carried on with her update, but her whole demeanour was softer now. Like JJ had passed some invisible test.

They weren’t big moments. Nothing dramatic. But for JJ, they felt like opening tiny windows in a house she’d sealed shut years ago.

And Emily noticed.She never said anything. Never interfered. But sometimes when JJ glanced up—there she was. Watching. Eyes steady, soft. Curious.

JJ didn’t know what to do with that.

But she didn’t shut it out, either. Not this time.

She let it stay, Emily’s eyes, the warmth of being noticed, the strange comfort of no longer fighting so hard to be invisible.

And then, a few days later, she found herself in her kitchen at midnight, elbow-deep in flour and second-guessing every life decision that had led her there.

Which is how she ended up now, standing in an elevator with a lopsided container of cookies, heart racing like she was walking into a hostage negotiation.

JJ fidgeted the whole way up the elevator muttering to herself under her breath. “This is so stupid. They probably taste like shit.” She looked down at the container in her hands. “They look like shit. Why are you even doing this?”

The elevator door dinged.

“Shit.”

She stepped out onto the floor feeling like a deer in headlights. “Dammit Emily, why did you have to get in my head? I was fucking fine before this.” She took a deep breath, let it out slow, and pushed the door open.

She spotted Reid and Garcia already chatting in the bullpen. Her shoulders tightened as she approached. Every step felt heavier than it should have.

“I didn’t have to do anything. They wouldn’t expect me to do anything.” Her frantic whispers left her mouth at a mile a minute. A drop of sweat dripped down the back of her neck. “They’re not gonna fucking care anyways.” She whispered harshly before closing the last few steps to Reid’s desk.

“Morning JJ.” Reid said, smiling that usual half-distracted smile he gave when his mind was still focused on something else.

“Good morning.” She said woodenly.

Garcia offered a small, warm smile. Not her usual sparkle, but not distant either. Who could blame her? That's a hard thing to see. I know first hand. A flicker of courage passed through her.

“I um...brought you, well, made you guys something.” She shoved the container onto the desk with a louder-than-intended clunk. “Cookies. Some have sprinkles. I figured…I don’t know, you seem like you’d like sprinkles. I mean you kinda look like sprinkles.” JJ froze in horror. “But like in a good way! A fun way!” Kill me.

“And uh, some don’t...have sprinkles,” she rushed on. “I heard about the kid from a few days ago and just…figured maybe cookies would help. Or something."

She immediately started tugging at the sleeve of her coat, bracing herself for awkward silence.

Reid was already opening the container, curious. Garcia, though, was still watching JJ, head tilted, brows soft with surprise. She blinked, then smiled slowly.

“That was…adorably awkward,” Garcia said, gently. “Thank you, sweetness. Sprinkles are absolutely the move.”

She picked one up and took a bite. She paused for a split second mid-chew. JJ’s heart nearly stopped, then smiled and nodded as she kept chewing. “First time?”

JJ’s shoulders dropped half an inch.

Reid lifted one and sniffed it like it might be a science experiment. “Do you guys wanna see a magic trick?”

“Of course we do.” Garcia said without missing a beat. She stepped closer, lightly steering JJ by the elbow so she stood behind Reid’s chair.

“Turn around.” Reid said, already fiddling with something at his desk.

JJ raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. She turned. Garcia rolled her eyes, whispered, “Just go with it,” and turned too.

A beat later, he let them turn back around to watch a film canister. They waited. JJ almost got impatient but then with a pop of compressed air, the film canister sailed through the air and struck someone with a soft thwack.

“Ah. ow.” Emily said from across the bullpen.

JJ turned just in time to see Emily rubbing her forehead, a film canister rolling away on the floor.

Garcia winced theatrically. “Oh no. Friendly fire.”

JJ let out the smallest, startled laugh. The sound surprised even her.

Emily looked across the room, hand still on her forehead, but her eyes landed on JJ. And for just a second, she smiled.

JJ smiled back.

It wasn’t a big moment. Just a quiet glance across the bullpen. But it stuck with her, warm, grounding in a way that shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did.

The rest of the day passed in a kind of tentative calm. She stayed close to Reid and Garcia. Shared small, companionable silence with Emily. Even caught herself humming under her breath at one point. That alone was strange enough to make her stop and blink.

That night, she went home tired, but not worn down. The ache in her shoulders felt like something earned instead of endured. She let the quiet of her apartment wrap around her without needing to fill it. No news. No reports. Just stillness.

She was halfway through brushing her teeth when her phone rang.

Unknown number. But she knew what that meant.

“Jareau,” she answered, already wiping her hands on a towel.

“Agent Jareau, this is Dispatch. Immediate mobilization, Agent Hotchner requests your presence at the airstrip. Jet is prepped for departure. ETA twenty minutes.”

She stood frozen for only a second, heart already pounding. Then she moved. Grabbed her go bag. Pulled on her boots. Tossed her phone into her jacket pocket. She didn’t know what they were walking into, but if Hotch was calling them out of bed at midnight, it wasn’t good.

Twenty minutes later, JJ stepped out of her vehicle at the edge of the airstrip, wind catching her coat as she spotted the others gathering by the jet.

They all turned as Hotch strode toward them from the tarmac.

“It’s Morgan,” he said without preamble. “Chicago PD just arrested him. Murder.”

Silence fell. Reid’s mouth opened, then closed again.

JJ felt the ground shift beneath her.

Chicago was bitter cold. The kind of cold that cut through coats and stung the skin before you had time to brace for it. JJ stood outside the precinct, arms crossed tightly over her chest, jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Not because of the weather.

Because Morgan was in there, and every cop that brushed past her seemed to wear the same look, the smug, dismissive kind that said we’ve already made up our minds. JJ had seen it before. She’d felt it before. But seeing it directed at Morgan made something inside her snap taut.

She kept her expression flat, her voice polite, but every time one of the detectives brushed them off, she felt her fingernails dig deeper into her own arm.

She watched Hotch play it calm and measured. Watched Reid pace and bristle in bursts. Watched Emily quietly scan everything, eyes narrowed, taking mental notes no one else saw.

JJ just felt sharp. Protective in a way that surprised her.

There was a moment, standing in the hallway outside the interview room, when one of the uniformed officers muttered something under his breath about “profilers thinking they’re above the law.”

JJ turned, calm as anything, and said. “I’d watch your tone. You might feel different the next time you have to call us in and he's the one who answers.” She jerked her head towards the interview room.

The cop blinked, taken aback. So was she. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t apologize. She just turned back around and kept waiting.

Gideon’s voice caught her attention a minute later. “JJ, I need you to get Garcia on the line. We need to bring up everything she can find on Morgan."

JJ hesitated for just a beat. “You want me to…?”

“We need to clear him.” He said. “The sooner we understand what they’re holding over him, the better.”

JJ nodded, already pulling her phone out. “On it.”

But something in her stomach turned as she dialed.

They'd done this countless times with countless people, facilitated deep dives, dug through pasts, uncovered truths people didn’t want seen. It was part of the job. Necessary.

But this wasn’t some suspect. This was Morgan. Their Morgan.

We all have a past. We all have a story.

He’d said it like a casual throwaway, but she heard the weight behind it. The same weight she carried. What if this was his story? The one he wasn’t ready to tell?

JJ’s eyes flicked to the hallway that led to the interview room. She imagined him in there, alone. Exposed.

She thought about what it would feel like, if the team started peeling back the layers of her story. If they had to question the choices she made after Roslyn died. If someone dragged her past into a police station and asked her to defend it like it was evidence.

She tightened her grip on the phone.

This was necessary. She knew that. But she didn’t have to like it.

Garcia answered on the third ring, her voice tense but alert. “Please tell me you’re calling to say this is all one big clerical error.”

JJ closed her eyes, exhaled. “Not yet. Gideon wants us to start going through Morgan’s history. We need to find whatever they think they’ve got on him.”

This wasn’t just about Morgan. It was about all of them. What it meant to stand beside someone when the worst parts of their story came to light.

And suddenly, JJ wasn’t just scared for him. She was scared of doing this wrong. Of not knowing how to show up the way he might need. Of proving, in the moment it actually mattered, that she didn’t know how to be the kind of teammate he deserved, because she’d never tried to be. Because she’d never learned how.

Garcia narrated the information she found.  Nothing interesting. Nothing illuminating. Just noise. JJ hated every second of it, but they had to keep going. "Garcia," she said quietly, "you need to search for a criminal record."

There was a pause. "But..."

"I know." JJ took a breath. "But it's the only way to help him."

Telling her to unseal the sealed file felt like cutting through something sacred. It wasn’t just wrong, it felt like betrayal. But it was the only option left. They were digging into the part of him he kept buried deepest. The part he never wanted them to see. Now it was all spread out across Garcia’s screen like evidence in a case file.

JJ sat in the corner of the conference room, flipping through the same page for the third time.

JJ sat in the small conference room, file open but untouched. Across the hall, voices rose and fell. Hotch. The detective. Buford’s name again.

She rubbed at the ache behind her eyes. If Buford was supposed to be Morgan’s hero, then something was seriously wrong. JJ didn’t say it out loud. Didn’t have to. The knot in her stomach was answer enough.

The door clicked open behind her. JJ didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. Something in the air shifted. Quieter, steadier, calmer.

Emily.

She moved quietly across the room and settled onto the couch in the corner with a long exhale, her motions slower than usual, like the day had wrung her out.

JJ let herself glance up.

Emily wasn’t looking at her. Just sitting there, leaning back, eyes on the ceiling like she was letting herself pause for the first time all day.

JJ didn’t say anything. But her shoulders dropped half an inch.

For the first time in hours, she didn’t feel quite so tense.

JJ shoved the file aside. She’d read it so many times she could probably recite it in her sleep. Twenty years from now, she’d still remember every word.

“You okay?” Emily asked from the couch on the other side of the conference room. The hesitance in Emily’s voice twisted something in JJ’s gut. We still haven't really spoken directly since the fight. She’s afraid I’m going to snap at her. JJ just gave her a small smile and nodded.

She stretched her arms high over her head as she got up and walked to the coffee station that had been set up for them. When she turned to look back at Emily, there was a faint blush on her cheeks as she stared intently at the file in her hands.

“Want a coffee?” JJ asked, quieter than usual. Using her newfound olive branch that was coffee and conversation.

Emily cleared her throat. “Sure, that would be great.”

JJ made the coffees in silence, then handed one to Emily before sinking onto the couch beside her.

Emily took a sip and froze. Her eyes flickered to JJ for a few moments, looking for something.

“What? Did I not make it right?” JJ asked as she took a sip of her own.

Emily just shook her head and took another sip. “No, it’s perfect.” She said knowingly.

JJ shifted, heat prickling her cheeks. Subtle, genius. Now she knows I’ve been watching her. Emily looked back down to her file, but JJ didn’t miss the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. JJ leaned back into the couch, letting out a long sigh as she closed her eyes. She felt Emily shift until her knee was slightly pressing into the side of JJ’s leg. Warmth pricked at her eyes. How does she just know? JJ shifted herself towards Emily so their shins were flush against each other. She propped an arm on the back of the couch, letting her head rest in her hand. Emily met her gaze, and they just stared for a few moments.

“Tell me something interesting.” JJ broke the silence. Emily’s mouth popped open slightly in shock, her eyes lit up with hope and anticipation for a moment before she schooled her expression.

“Did you know there’s an accepted amount of cockroaches in all pre-ground coffee?” For a moment, JJ was mesmerized with the way Agent Emily Prentiss shifted so completely to the Emily she met…but then she registered what this beautiful woman said.

“What?” JJ jerked her head back (a familiar reaction) and looked into her half drunk coffee.

Emily nodded enthusiastically and took another sip of her coffee…like she didn't care.

“Mhm. Yeah so, it’s basically impossible for them to not have at least some cockroaches get ground up in the process so there are actual regulations for how much bug content is considered an ‘acceptable natural contaminant.’” JJ wanted to be grossed out, and somewhere in the back of her mind she definitely was, but she was too distracted by the excitement Emily gets in her eyes when she finds something fascinating. JJ smiled wildly at the happy hand gestures as she nattered on about contaminate levels and the other insects that could be included in her morning coffee. “What?” Emily paused, her face still alight.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words were out before her brain could catch them. Her face went beet red, her eyes wide in panic. “Uh…” She stuttered. Luckily, the conference room blew open. Unluckily, she spilled her roach juice on her pants.

“Shit.” She muttered, scrambling for the napkins at the coffee station. Hotch met her halfway, his eyes sharp and searching. He glanced between Emily, doing her best to look casual, and JJ, who was still visibly mortified.

"Morgan escaped. But I think I know where he's headed."

JJ stood just behind the others, barely breathing as Carl Buford’s voice drifted out into the hall, slow, trembling, and unmistakably real. The words weren’t loud, but they were clear. Too clear.

And just like that, there it was.

The truth. Dragged into the light in the ugliest way possible.

JJ felt her stomach twist. Her throat closed like it was trying to keep from letting anything in. Or maybe it was trying to keep from letting anything out. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, but it didn’t help. It didn’t protect her from the shame that wasn’t even hers to carry.

She didn’t look at Reid. Didn’t look at Emily. She couldn’t. It felt too raw. Like even moving might break something.

Morgan had never asked them to see this. And now it was everywhere. Unavoidable. Undeniable. Burned into the walls.

JJ felt gutted. Not just for what had been done to him, but for the brutal way he’d been forced to share it. With all of them. With the world.

There were no words for that kind of violation. Only silence. And the promise to never forget it.

JJ hesitated as she stepped onto the plane. She saw the top of Morgan’s head at the very back, headphones on, surrounded by empty seats no one would dare to fill. The team knew he needed privacy, and the flight was short anyway.

She walked down the aisle slowly and settled in the row behind him, taking the window seat. She stared out, barely noticing takeoff. Her thumbnail dug into her lip. Her leg bounced. The unease in her stomach had been building since the community centre.

She was trying her best to convince herself she didn’t have to do anything, say anything.

And suddenly, she had to. She didn’t want to prove, again, that when it counted, she didn’t know how to show up for him. For any of them. Not knowing how wasn’t good enough anymore. Not after what he just endured, what he was forced to lay bare.

So she made a decision. Quiet and terrified and sure. She was going to try...she just needed to figure out how.

“JJ?” She flinched. Emily’s hand was on her shoulder, gentle and steady. JJ turned her head to find concern etched across her face. “You okay?”

When JJ didn’t answer, Emily gave her shoulder a light squeeze. JJ caught her hand before it pulled away. And suddenly, Emily became the 'how'.

“I’m okay," she murmured, "but can you sit here?” She motioned to the empty seat next to her.

Emily blinked, then nodded. “Sure.”

As Emily sat down, JJ stood, still holding her hand.

“Can you stay right here?” she asked softly.

Emily’s brow furrowed, but she nodded again. JJ offered a faint smile, then let their fingers slip apart as she stepped into the aisle and over to the seat across from Morgan. He was sitting with his head against the seat with his eyes closed. She knew he wouldn’t be sleeping though. Not when your skeletons have been ripped out of the closet and your colleagues have been forced to examine the bones.

Exactly. So just do it. At least it's on your own terms.

She met Emily’s curious eyes just over Morgan’s shoulder. Those eyes that are so soft and comforting. With another small smile, JJ gently tapped Morgan’s foot with her own. Like she suspected, his eyes opened immediately. They were tired but not from sleepiness. Yeah me too buddy. She motioned for him to take his headphones off.

“Just let me get through this, okay? If you stop me I don’t know if I’ll be able to start again.” She flicked her eyes to Emily again hoping that she could hear here. The way that her body language changed as if she was bracing herself, told her she’d heard her and understood the gravity of what JJ was about to reveal.

Morgan leaned forward and nodded.

“When I was eleven my sister took her own life. I was the one that, uh, found her after.” She trailed off, her throat closing up. I can’t do this. I don’t think I can tell him. She shifted her gaze away from Morgan’s look of shock. But Emily…Her eyes found Emily’s once more and felt herself relax. Emily gave her an encouraging nod.

“My father left right after the funeral and I haven’t seen him since. My mother,” JJ hesitates, “my mother was so distraught that she lived in a dissociated state. I lived in a small town. One where people didn’t poke in other people’s business. Plus our family ended up becoming a stain on this quaint little town’s image, and as I was the only one left that made any appearance, most people steered as far away from me as possible."

"I was too young or naive to realise that becoming a caregiver to your mentally ill mother at eleven years old wasn’t right and by the time I knew that, she was too sick to do anything about it. She got diagnosed with cancer when I was sixteen and was gone less than a year later. She might have had a chance with treatment but she was too far gone mentally to help herself and I was too young and inexperienced to deal with something like that. No one checked in on me before or after she died. The only people I ever had in my corner walked away from me and an entire town of people let me struggle because no one cared enough to get involved. That’s why I have a hard time trusting people with the little things like how a date went. I was shown that no one would care anyway and it just hurts too much when you think they do and you’re proved wrong.” She sat back. Her eyes never left Emily’s. She watched as Emily’s expression settled further and further into one of deep sympathy.

“JJ…” Morgan stared at her with horror. He opened his mouth to continue but she cut him off.

“I don’t think you were quite ready, but I figured that even if I wasn’t ready either, it might make you feel better if you weren’t alone.” Her eyes flicked back to Emily, brows still pinched, but her expression had shifted. Not because of what JJ shared, but because she shared it at all. Especially something like this, her unholy grail. She looks proud?

He didn’t say thank you, she wouldn’t have wanted him to, but he did reach over and squeeze her knee. His shoulders tilting forward as he dropped his head. He squeezed her knee once more. Tighter, bracingly. He was letting her brace his fall, so she hesitantly grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers. She squeezed his hand tighter than he did and he looked up. The gratitude was there now. Gratitude that she was there to catch him.

“I’m gonna prove to you how important you are to me, and I promise you I’ll never let you down.” And when it was her turn to fall, she hoped he’d catch her too.

Chapter Text

They landed just after sunset.

The sky was still tinted gold, fading into the kind of soft violet that made city lights flicker early. Emily stepped off the jet with her hands tucked deep into her coat pockets, the wind pushing at her collar. The air smelled like fuel and rain. Everyone moved quietly. Shoulders low, eyes tired, no one ready or willing to talk.

Emily hadn’t said much on the flight home. Neither had JJ. But somewhere over Ohio, JJ had slipped into the seat beside her. She didn’t speak, just sat, slow and deliberate, and shifted until their arms were pressed together from shoulder to wrist. Emily didn’t move away. Didn’t ask questions. She just leaned into the warmth, let her arm rest there, steady against JJ’s.

JJ didn’t owe her words. Not yet. Emily had seen everything she needed to in the way JJ had crossed that aisle, the way her body tilted just slightly toward Emily’s like she didn’t even know she was doing it.

She’d made a choice. Emily was the person she was reaching for when she was scared. When she needed comfort. As far as Emily had seen (and from what I just heard) JJ doesn’t really have that with anyone else. Emily felt her chest swell that she could be that person for JJ. That JJ let Emily be that person.

Now, back on the tarmac, with the wind cold against her cheeks and the others dispersing around her like tired shadows, Emily let herself finally breathe.

JJ’s voice from the plane still echoed in her head. That confession, quiet and raw, like it had been dug up from the deepest part of her. Emily could still feel the weight of it, could still see the way JJ’s hands had trembled slightly as she spoke. Not from nerves, Emily realized now, but from effort. Like she’d had to tear through years of silence just to get the words out.

And before that...oof. Coming back from Cuba and walking into that conversation had felt like stepping into the middle of a storm she hadn’t seen coming. JJ had been cold. Defensive. Practically biting. Emily hadn’t even been back long enough to understand what she’d done wrong, but somehow, she’d found herself on the receiving end of words meant to wound.

It hadn’t been random, though. Emily could see that now.

JJ hadn’t just been angry, she’d been scared. Thrown off-kilter. The boundaries between personal and professional had collapsed too fast, and JJ had responded the only way she knew how: by building new walls. Taller ones. Sharper ones.

And yeah, she’d been cruel. Not because she wanted to hurt Emily, but because she needed to push her away. She needed to put the wall back up that she’d unknowingly taken down between ‘JJ’ and ‘Jennifer’. Because if she didn’t, their ‘relationship’ (or whatever you want to call it) took on a whole new meaning that JJ wasn’t prepared to handle. One that made JJ vulnerable. And vulnerable was dangerous.

Emily understood that kind of fear too well.

She knew what it did to a person to grow up believing no one would come for you. That no one should. And JJ…JJ had learned that lesson too young. A child left to shoulder grief that wasn’t hers alone, punished for surviving, forgotten by everyone who should have noticed she was drowning.

Of course she didn’t trust easily. Of course, closeness felt threatening.

Still, the fight had stung. Not because of the words, Emily could take the words, but because of the crack underneath them. The vulnerability JJ was trying not to show, even as it spilled out anyway. That moment in the office, when JJ had turned on her with that clipped, bitter voice…it had been like watching someone about to drown yell at the person trying to throw them a rope.

But now…she seemed different. Not drastically. Not in a way most people would notice. But still significantly.

Her shoulders sat a little lower, like her armour wasn’t quite so heavy. Her face wasn’t always so perfectly put in place. That professional mask, her Agent Jennifer Jareau face, was all sharp edges and laser focus. It was intimidating as hell. Made rookies stand up straighter and then run for the hills.

And damn, it was sexy. Terrifying, but sexy.

But in the last few days, Emily had started to catch glimpses of something else.

A grimace at a particularly gruesome detail in a file. A flash of genuine effort to listen when Reid launched into one of his tangents about statistical analysis or some niche math thing Emily barely followed, and she knew JJ definitely didn’t. That dark flicker in JJ’s eyes as the Chicago officers spoke about Morgan like they knew him. Jaw tight. Eyes narrowed. It shifted, just for a moment, into the smallest smile when Emily caught her eye as she and Reid left to go speak to Morgan’s mom.

Then there was the snort of laughter at something Garcia said. Emily had heard it before (quite a bit that night), but the look on Garcia’s face, and the way Morgan glanced up in quiet astonishment, made it clear that for them, it was new.

And that mattered because JJ didn’t even seem to notice what she was doing. The way she was just… there, in a way that was noticeable specifically because it wasn’t the norm. Emily watched the way the rest of the team would pause, just for a beat, when JJ stepped into casual conversation instead of skirting past it. The way they’d glance again when she claimed an empty desk nearby, arms full of files, settling into the edge of the team without ever announcing herself.

She didn’t talk much. But she listened.

Let her lips twitch when something was funny. Rolled her eyes when Morgan got a little too cocky. Lifted her head and looked around like is this really happening? the moment Reid started explaining worm reproduction.

They were the smallest changes. Barely there, fleeting things, but to Emily…they were beautiful.

And the pull she’d been trying not to feel, quiet, magnetic, bone-deep, was only growing harder to ignore. The ache of it, the ache for her, only deepened with each passing glimpse.

But maybe now…maybe she wouldn’t have to ignore it quite so much.

JJ had pulled her back in. Not all the way, just a bit, but Emily already found herself craving even more.

“Debrief tomorrow?” Gideon’s voice snapped her out of her JJ-induced fog.

“Actually no.” Hotch spoke up before anyone could move. The group’s energy dipped, momentarily bracing for more bad news. “If we can debrief tonight, you’ll all have tomorrow off. Make it a three-day weekend. Unless something urgent comes in.”

That changed the air. Everyone straightened a little. The weariness didn’t disappear, but it lifted just enough for a ripple of motivation to pass through them. Without another word, they headed toward their cars.

Fifteen minutes later, they stepped into the elevator on the BAU floor, go-bags in hand, jackets slung over tired shoulders. Garcia was waiting for them, all bright lipstick and unspent energy, but her attention zeroed in on Morgan. She wrapped him in a tight hug, whispered something in his ear that made him smile despite himself.

When she finally let him go, she turned to the rest of the team and beamed when her eyes landed on Emily.

“Happy Birthday!”

Emily froze as all eyes turned to her.

“It’s your birthday?” JJ asked, head titled just slightly, eyes unreadable. Hotch glanced between them. That same look he’d been throwing their way. Like he knew something he couldn’t prove.

“Mhm.” Emily hummed, giving a short nod.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Reid asked, genuinely confused.

She just gave him a look, a dry little flick of her eyes toward Morgan. “It slipped my mind.” From the corner of her vision, she saw JJ shift. That quiet head tilt again, considering.

Morgan stepped forward. “How about we go get a drink after debrief?” He gave her a tired smile.

“It’s okay. I think we’ve had enough excitement today, and you look dead on your feet.” She said softly to him.

He just nodded. “Fine, but I owe you a drink.”

She smiled. Just enough to satisfy him. Then they all moved into the conference room, business resuming as it always did. But as she sat down, Emily caught JJ watching her from across the table.

Still and quiet. It made Emily’s skin crawl in a familiar way. She sees too much.

The debrief was mercifully short. Most of the team looked half-asleep in their seats, running on autopilot as Hotch reviewed the case summary and loose ends. Morgan kept his answers clipped but steady. Garcia hovered protectively close. Reid offered a few murmured statistics when prompted. JJ said nothing. Neither did Emily.

When it was over, people filed out with quiet nods, tired goodbyes, and final birthday greetings. The elevator in her building groaned. The hallway smelled faintly of someone else’s dinner. Her apartment was dark when she stepped inside. Quiet. Still. Like it was always waiting for her to come back and be alone in it.

She dropped her keys on the counter. Toed off her boots. Shrugged out of her coat.

And only then did she let herself truly remembered what day it was. She stood there a moment. In the middle of her somewhat unpacked living room. Surrounded by half-empty boxes and takeout containers and the faint hum of the fridge. Staring at nothing. Feeling everything.

Another birthday come and gone. Just like all the others. She never expected anything else.

So when the knock came at her door, soft and unsure, it took her a full second to believe it was real. And then another to wonder who the hell that could be. She hadn’t buzzed anyone in.

She opened the door to see JJ standing there, a small box in hand. “Uh, hey.” She said with a small smile. “Can I come in?”

Emily blinked, stunned with surprise. Then she stepped back without a word, letting JJ pass. “How did you get up here?” She asked as she closed the door behind them.

JJ scratched her brow, sheepish. “I remembered the code. From that night.”

Emily gave one slow nod. Of course she did. I can't forget that night either.

She led them into the kitchen where JJ set the box on the counter and carefully opened it to reveal a single cupcake.

Emily’s eyes flicked up. JJ looked…unsure. Like she was still deciding if she belonged here. Like she might bolt if given the chance. But then her expression settled. A quiet sort of resolve took hold of her posture, the one Emily remembered from the jet, when JJ spoke about grief like it was a ghost, she’d made peace with.

“Why did you tell them you forgot your birthday?” JJ asked.

Emily tilted her head slightly, giving her a nonchalant shrug. “What do you mean? It just slipped my mind. You know, with the whole Morgan thing.” Thats’s reasonable. She even added a what-can-you-do smile for good measure.

But JJ didn’t buy it. Emily could see it instantly. The way she tilted her head, eyes narrowing just a bit. That familiar pause of quiet observation.

“You’re lying." She said gently. Not accusing. Just knowing.

“I’m not.” Emily dug her heels in.

“You are. Why won’t you tell me?” JJ dug right back.

Emily looked away. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

“What is? Conveniently poor memory?” JJ tried to tease, just a little.

Emily almost smiled. Almost. But her voice was quiet when she said, “I haven’t had anyone say Happy Birthday to me in over a decade. It’s just a day to me JJ.” And not an important one.

JJ didn’t argue. She didn’t push. Just gave her a look, sad, but not pitying. Understanding. Emily figured she probably did understand. “Do you want it to be?” JJ asked, her brow creasing.

“Do you want it to be?” JJ asked, brows scrunching as she met Emily’s eyes.

Emily hesitated. Her throat tightened unexpectedly. “I don’t know.” She admitted, barely above a whisper.

Then JJ pulled a lighter out of her coat pocket and sparked the small candle now sticking out of the cupcake. “Well, I’m here now so if you’d like to celebrate your birthday with me then blow this candle out and make a wish. If not, we can snuff it, and then it’s just a regular, highly questionable gas station dessert.” JJ smiled, gentle and patient. She’s letting me decide what I need. Something twisted low in Emily’s chest.

She stared at the cupcake long enough that the wax started to drip onto the frosting. Then finally, slowly, she looked back at JJ, and blew out the candle. “Come on, I’ll get a knife so we can split it. If this cupcake is gonna take me out, then you’re coming with me.”

JJ let out a quiet huff of laughter, more breath than sound. Emily thought there was a small sigh of relief mixed in there. She split the cupcake and slid JJ's half towards her on a paper towel.

"Paper towel," JJ said, half a chuckle slipping out, "impenetrable to pizza grease and oily cupcakes." Judging by how fast it was soaking through the paper towel, the gas station dessert probably had more oil than flour.

However harmless the comment was, it made Emily pause. The gluey bite of cake caught in her throat. She wiped her hands and pressed away from the counter. "Why did you come here?" She asked quietly.

JJ froze mid bite then swallowed, audibly, and slowly set the cupcake down. Her voice was low when she spoke. "You know why." Her eyes didn't waiver. No smile. No deflection.

Emily thought she knew why. But right now, with this girl, Emily couldn't afford to be wrong. "I don't want to guess. Not with you."

JJ nodded slowly, eyes dropping to the half-eaten cupcake. "Because I wanted to be here." She started fidgeting with the paper towel. "Actually…that’s not totally true. I needed to be here. Your birthday was just a good excuse." Emily's chest twisted, her stomach churned with a building hope.

JJ scrunched up the paper towel with the remaining cupcake in it. “I kept thinking about you. After the plane. After the BAU. And I guess I realized I was gonna end up here no matter what. Sooner or later.” She said it with a tired huff then she stood, grabbed Emily's cupcake and dropped both of them into the trash with a soft thud. "This sucks. We can't eat these."

JJ ran her hands under the tap and looked around for a towel to dry them. Emily wordlessly pointed at a towel sticking out of a half-unpacked box. JJ used it, then lingered. Staring down into the box like something had pulled her under, then started pulling the items out of the box. What's she doing? JJ pulled the newspaper from around the wine glasses and stacked them in a free cupboard. She's...unpacking? Her movements were automatic, almost detached, like her body was doing something familiar while her mind worked through something harder.

“I’ve made it so I don’t mean a whole lot to people. That people don’t mean a whole lot to me. It’s easier that way. Simpler. Safer." She placed a third glass on the shelf, a little too gently, like she was buying herself time.

Emily didn’t move. She just watched. Watched the way JJ kept her back turned. The way her voice stayed level even as her hands started to slow.  “But then you came along. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night. About you." JJ shrugged one shoulder, her back to Emily. "About the way it felt to be with you.”

JJ placed the last glass into the cupboard and carefully shut it, then slowly turned and broke down the box. All her moves precise and methodical. “You threw me so far off-kilter I didn’t even realize I’d made it to work that morning. I was still stuck in my head with you." She had a faint smile on her lips but wouldn't look at Emily. "And then suddenly…you weren’t just a memory. You were standing in front of me. Real. Right there. And it scared the hell out of me.”

She wasn’t looking for comfort. She wasn’t even really looking at Emily. It was like she’d slipped into a version of herself that didn’t exist in public. One that thought aloud, in soft, uneven confessions, like no one was listening. So Emily didn’t speak. Didn’t interrupt. She stepped forward, picked up another box, and started unpacking too. JJ fell into rhythm beside her, moving on autopilot. Emily placed the items on the counter, JJ put them where she liked.

"I’m not used to that,” JJ admitted, "feeling that much. Let alone that fast. Letting myself want anything like this. And I know I’ve been…awful. And guarded. And Distant. But it’s not because I don’t care. It’s the opposite.” Her voice softened again. Emily could feel it in the air now. That weight. That pull. “I think I care too much. About you. And I don’t know how to be good at that yet.”

Emily thought about reaching for her. About closing the space between them. But instead, she just stood there and watched as JJ unfolded her most intimate thoughts.

"I can't keep pushing you away. With everyone else, it's so natural, but with you it feels like trying to run while moving the same arm and leg. Looks ridiculous and makes me feel stupid."

Emily was never going to be able to listen to JJ in silence after that. She let out a loud bark of laughter. "Oh. That's an image." Emily bumped JJ's hip. She turned and finally looked at her like a fog was clearing. "Somehow, I'm sure you'd still make that look good."

JJ scoffed, but it was half a smile. “You know I practiced that metaphor. In the car. Out loud.”

Emily huffed a laugh. “You rehearsed being emotionally vulnerable?”

JJ shrugged. “Figured I should try being bad at it in private first. Turns out I’m still bad at it in here.”

Emily chuckled, quiet and genuine. “You’re doing fine.” JJ leaned her hip into Emily's and smiled. After a beat Emily gave her shoulder a nudge. "You hungry?"

JJ just hummed in agreement.

"Considering someone threw out my cupcake, I guess we'll have to resort to chicken fingers." She pushed off the counter, opened the freezer, and pulled out the bag of chicken.

"That cupcake was vile." JJ chuckled. "I'm fine with anything."

"Hmm. I'd disagree. I vaguely remember that you don't like pepperoni. Learned that one the ass-backwards way. Ring any bells?" Emily shot a knowing smirk over her shoulder.

JJ's cheeks reddened and she opened her mouth to say what was most likely something witty but paused. She stepped closer until she was looking over Emily's shoulder. "Um. Those have legs, not fingers."

“Huh, I guess they do.” Emily said it breezily and dumped a few onto the baking tray.

JJ blinked. “Emily, why do they have legs?”

“Because they’re fun.”

“They’re shaped like dinosaurs.”

“Exactly.”

“…but they’re for children.”

Emily nudged her back with a gentle hip-check, breaking JJ’s hover. “Why do they get to have all the fun?” JJ was quiet for a beat, then huffed a short laugh as Emily added, without a trace of irony, “Why can’t I also enjoy the fun dino shapes?”

She turned back to the freezer, trading the chicken for potatoes. Emily resisted the urge to smile. If JJ thought the nuggets were funny…

“Go sit.” Emily said, jutting her chin towards the living room. “I’ll join you after I throw these in.”

JJ nodded and left the room. Emily didn’t know if she imagined that small knowing look. Emily stood alone at the counter, the tray half-filled, the oven humming softly behind her. She took a breath.

Everything JJ had said, quiet, careful, unscripted, echoed louder now. I don’t know how to be good at that yet. I think I care too much. She hadn’t said the words like she expected anything back. She’d just needed to say them. That mattered more than Emily knew how to name.

She leaned her hands against the counter. Emily had been holding her breath for weeks. Ever since that morning. But now…JJ was here. Not just physically. She was here. Still guarded, still learning, still sorting through the mess of herself…but trying. And letting Emily see it.

And now, with JJ on her couch, after everything, Emily felt that familiar grip around her heart loosen, just a little more. The one that had been there since she was a kid, since her mother taught her that being likeable wasn’t the same as being herself. That being palatable meant trimming pieces off.

She’d lived her whole life that way. Undercover. Adjusting. Performing.

But JJ hadn’t seen that polished version until she’d already decided to shut everything down. She’d seen swing sets. Wine in teacups. Animal shaped foods. She’d seen the dorkiness that Emily usually tries so hard to reign in…

And she still came back. She wanted that version. The real one. And that, above all else, made that grip loosen more than anything ever had.

Emily pushed off from the counter and went to join JJ. At the threshold, she paused, mouth falling slightly open.

“How long was I in there?” Emily looked around at a living room that was definitely hers…but not quite how she’d left it.

JJ straightened from where she was crouched halfway inside the largest box, one arm wrapped around a throw pillow. She looked like she’d been caught red-handed.

“Um. I have trouble sitting still when I’m anxious.” She cleared her throat and set the pillow neatly on the couch beside it’s matching pair. A small pile of broken-down boxes sat stacked in the corner, and Emily’s living room looked considerably more put together than it had before JJ showed up.

“It’s okay.” Emily said, a soft smile tugging at her mouth. “Just draw me a map later.”

JJ stepped back to admire her impromptu redecorating like she hadn’t just casually colonized someone else’s apartment.

Emily raised a brow and dropped onto the couch with a soft grunt. “So…do I need to start leaving a chore list on the fridge, or was this just a one-time break-and-enter special?”

JJ tossed a throw blanket over the back of the couch with an exaggerated flourish. “You break into one apartment with cupcakes and suddenly you’re a criminal.”

“You remembered the code.”

JJ held up a finger. “Technically, I never forgot it.”

Emily gave a dry laugh. “Well, I guess I should just be grateful you didn’t alphabetize my spice rack.”

JJ tilted her head. “Give me time.”

Emily chuckled and leaned back, letting her head rest on the couch cushion. “You know you’re deeply unhinged, right?” She deadpanned.

JJ sat down next to her, close but not touching. “Yeah. But I brought dessert.”

“Which you threw out…”

JJ winced. “Right. Strike one.” She hesitated, fingers absently picking at a loose thread on the couch. Then spoke. “We both know that’s not even close to the worst thing I’ve done this week.”

JJ gave a huff of a laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve been kind of…emotionally unhinged. Snapped at you. Shut you out. Acted like you hadn’t meant anything when you actually meant…” she stopped herself. Swallowed. “It wasn’t fair. And I’m sorry.”

Emily didn’t move right away. Just let the apology hang for a beat, like she was weighing it. “Yeah, you were kind of an asshole.” She said eventually. JJ blinked, startled. “But,” Emily added, softer, “I’ve met way worse assholes.”

Emily let the silence stretch for a moment before tilting her head slightly toward her. “You fooled me for a second,” she said. “That first time we spoke in your office. I thought you were someone else. Thought maybe I imagined the person I met that night.”

She turned her head, met JJ’s eyes. “But then we fought, and I realized…no. You weren’t different. You were scared.”

JJ let out a tired breath. “I sort of thought the same thing, that you were different. Although in my calmer, slightly more rational mind, I realize I was just working myself up even more.” JJ scrunched her face in embarrassment. “I guess I was jealous. You just fit in so easily with everyone. In a way I never have. Not just here but ever. And it pissed me off. Not because I don’t fit in but because you were still all those things that sucked me in. Sexy, friendly as hell, dorky.” Her lips quirked. “But it was different and I got scared that maybe you were just adapting to me too. I got scared that that version of you…this version, only existed for me. I just like this version very much.”

“It does only exist for you.” Emily said with startling clarity. “But that’s only because I don’t let anyone see this me. You know, I spent those few days between when I saw you in Hotch’s office and then in yours psyching myself up. That it was okay to just be me. Then I get to the office and you shut me down so quickly.”

JJ groaned and leaned forward to lay her head in her hands. “Ah. I know. That night…when I told you all that stuff about how I think the team sees me? About how I worry they don’t think I belong?”

Emily didn’t say anything. Just waited.

JJ let out a breath. “I wasn’t exaggerating. I think about it a lot more than I should.” Her eyes flicked upward for a second, then dropped again. “And after I told you, I panicked. I kept thinking about how stupid I must’ve sounded. Like…I said it out loud and then couldn’t stop wondering if you would come to agree. If you would see me that way too. I just got uncomfortable with you knowing something like that. That maybe I'd given you a head start into thinking I couldn't handle it."

When JJ finally looked over at Emily, her mouth was agape. She was stunned. Are you fucking kidding me?

“Are you—what? No. Is that what you really thought?” JJ's eyes flicker to Emily's for a moment before flitting away. She's not kidding. “Jennifer,” Emily said, sharp and stunned but she didn't miss the way JJ's breath hitched. “I haven’t thought about what you said about your job once. Not because I don’t care, but because all I’ve been able to think was holy fuck.”

She stood and started pacing without realizing it. Her anger had already started to melt, replaced by the same frenzied awe that had been haunting her since the moment JJ walked into Hotch’s office.

“I mean, holy fuck, you’re here!" Emily huffs an incredulous laugh. "What are the odds?” She ran a hand through her hair, the motion jerky, distracted. Her thoughts were spilling faster than she could grab hold of them.

"And holy fuck, I told you so much shit that I’ve never told anyone. Like anyone. I’ve never had anyone to talk like that with and holy fuck what are the odds that the first person I have a heart to heart with turns out to be my brand-new coworker. And now I have to see you every day, knowing you heard all of that, knowing I let you hear it, and then you went cold and distant and I thought, ‘Okay, cool, guess that was a mistake,’ and, holy fuck, how am I supposed to ignore how goddamn beautiful you are?”

She flicked a vague, exasperated hand in JJ’s direction, not even looking at her anymore. Words were tumbling out like loose gravel, gaining speed, impossible to stop.

“I mean, seriously. Look at you. Look at you.”

She didn’t realize she’d said that last part aloud until the words echoed back at her like a slap. Emily blinked. Snapped back to her living room. Slowly turned to find JJ staring at her with wide eyes, clearly just as stunned as Emily had been thirty seconds earlier.

JJ sat frozen, wide-eyed, the ghost of a smile caught somewhere between disbelief and something warmer. Then slowly, cautiously, she stood. Then took one step.

“You called me Jennifer,” she said, voice low and a little breathless.

Emily opened her mouth, about to apologize.

JJ shook her head. “No. I like it.”

Emily blinked. Something in her chest gave a quiet, unsteady shift. “Yeah?” she said softly.

JJ nodded once.

They just stood there, eyes locked, the air between them charged and still. Jennifer reached a finger out blindly and hooked it into one of Emily's belt loops. She tugged slightly. And then...

BEEP.

The oven timer broke the quiet like a rising tide; gentle, inevitable, and utterly untimely.

They just stood there a beat longer, suspended in the hum of what almost was.

Emily’s eyes flicked down to where JJ’s finger still rested against her belt loop, soft and unmoving. Neither of them said anything.

Then quietly, regretfully, Emily exhaled a soft laugh. “We always seem to get interrupted by food.”

JJ’s hand dropped away, fingers brushing Emily’s hip as she pulled back. “Honestly,” she murmured, “starting to feel personal.”

Emily turned toward the kitchen with a lopsided smirk. “At least it’s a consistent theme.”

They moved together, quiet but close. Emily pulled open the cupboard and reached instinctively for the mismatched teacups. Then pulled a bottle of white out of the fridge.

JJ leaned against the counter beside her, one eyebrow arched. "We just put the wine glasses away.”

Emily didn’t skip a beat. “You put them away while quietly unpacking my glassware and rambling about emotional intimacy like you were reading a grocery list."

JJ huffed. “I was trying to be helpful.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “My cupboards don't make sense.”

“I was helping.”

Emily gestured toward the now neatly stacked shelves. “But you put my coffee mugs next to the salad bowls. The big ones.”

“They’re both round,” JJ said, like that was a valid argument.

Emily stared at her. “That’s…not how categories work.”

JJ just shrugged.

They moved toward the oven in companionable silence, their shoulders brushing once, twice, like neither of them minded the closeness.

Emily opened the oven and pulled out the tray.

"Seriously?" JJ deadpanned.

"Hmm?" Emily faked innocence.

"Dino nuggets and french fry smilies..."

Emily shrugged.

“Do they taste like happiness or existential dread?”

“I like them because at least they’re smiling when I’m not.” Emily cringed. “Shit, that was darker than—”

“No, no. I get it.” JJ paused effectively sobered, then bumped Emily’s shoulder. “Doesn’t make you any less of a dork, though.”

Emily lets out a huff of surprised laughter, tension easing from her shoulders. “I guess you might be right.” She said, feeling significantly less stung than the first time she said it.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch with their plates balanced in their laps, dino nuggets arranged like a herd migrating across their plates, the smiley fries staring up at them with greasy optimism.

Emily took a bite, chewed, then gestured vaguely with her fork. “You know…if twelve-year-old me could see me now, I think she’d be thrilled.”

JJ looked over, eyebrow raised. “Because of the processed poultry?”

“No, well yes. But because I’m sitting on my own couch, in a city I actually chose, eating ridiculous food with someone who…didn’t bolt the second things got weird.”

JJ snorted and popped a nugget in her mouth. “Give me time.”

Emily smirked, but her expression softened. “You’re still here.”

JJ glanced over, eyes catching on Emily’s for a beat too long. “Yeah,” she said. Quiet. Firm. “I am.”

There was a lull. Not uncomfortable, but full.

Emily sipped her wine from the teacup, then tilted her head slightly as JJ nudged her with her foot. “Permission to breach the invisible wall?”

Emily didn’t say anything, but smiled. Just shifted closer. Not quite touching but comfortable.

JJ dipped a nugget in ketchup, tone innocent but clearly scheming. “You think Hotch is a ketchup or ranch guy?”

Emily blinked, then promptly choked on her wine. “God, don’t make me picture Hotch eating nuggets.”

JJ grinned around a fry. “You think he chews like he’s disappointed in them?”

“Probably tells them they’re the reason crime exists.”

JJ snorted, head tipping back against the cushion, her laughter open and unguarded in a way that still felt new. Emily watched the way her features relaxed when she really laughed, how her eyes crinkled, and her nose scrunched just slightly. Oof.

It made something ache in Emily’s chest. Not sharp. Not painful. Just…a reminder of how badly she wanted more of this. Of her.

JJ caught her staring, but didn’t comment. Just looked back, a faint smile still tugging at her mouth. “Thanks for letting me crash your birthday.”

Emily hummed. “You brought dessert and organized my kitchen. You’re basically a party planner.”

“Oh yeah, definitely hire me for your next event. I’ll bring off-brand cookies and a nervous breakdown.”

Emily huffed a laugh, then sobered, just a little. “You didn’t crash anything. I’m glad you’re here.”

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable, just weighty.

JJ nodded, quiet. “Me too."

They went back to eating, letting the next few minutes pass in peaceful near-silence. Emily let her knee drift toward JJ’s, let them rest against each other without comment.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even romantic, not quite. But it was warm. Present. The kind of stillness that meant something.

Eventually, JJ leaned her head against the couch cushion and turned toward Emily.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Emily looked over, brows raised.

JJ smiled faintly. “Next year…don’t forget your birthday.”

Emily’s throat tightened. She forced herself to smile past it. “Only if you promise to bring a real cupcake next time.”

JJ grinned, eyes already half-lidded with exhaustion. “Deal.”

“Do you always go for the heads first?” JJ asked, eyeing Emily’s plate as she leaned forward to grab her cup off the coffee table.

Emily didn’t look up. “It’s strategic. They can’t see it coming.”

JJ blinked. Then nodded solemnly. “Right. Mercy killing. Got it.” She reached out and plucked the teacup from Emily’s hand, taking her own sip without asking. The ceramic was still warm against her fingers. So was the memory. The sight of her, barefoot and smirking, sipping wine out of Emily’s old porcelain hit harder than it should have. Something deep and urgent twisted low in Emily’s chest.

"Fuck it." The words barely left her mouth before she surged forward. Her plate clattered onto the coffee table, a few fries sliding off unnoticed. JJ barely had time to react before Emily’s mouth was on hers, soft but sure, one hand cupping JJ’s cheek, the other braced against the back of the couch like she needed something to hold onto.

JJ didn’t hesitate. She made a quiet sound against Emily’s lips, half relief half hunger, and pulled her in closer, hands finding Emily’s waist like she’d been waiting for the signal.

They shifted blindly, knocking aside dishes and cushions as they tried to get closer, closer, like space was something they couldn’t afford to waste. Emily felt JJ’s fingers slide under the hem of her sweater, hesitant, almost reverent, and the contact made her stomach flip.

Oh God, this is happening.

Emily pulled back just long enough to search JJ’s face. Her eyes were darker now, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as she caught her breath, but she wasn’t unsure. She looked back at Emily like she was anchoring herself, like she’d chosen this with the same quiet certainty she’d crossed the aisle on the jet.

Emily let her forehead rest against JJ’s.

“Is this okay?” she whispered.

JJ nodded. “Yeah.” Then, after a second, “More than okay.” And then it was like a dam had broken.

JJ responded instantly. Her fingers curled around the edge of Emily’s sweater, tugging her closer until their bodies were flush. Emily sank into her, knees pressed to the couch cushion, bracing herself over JJ like she needed to be sure she was real. JJ was solid beneath her, warm, steady, so vividly present it made Emily’s chest ache.

They kissed like they were making up for lost time. Like they’d waited too long and barely knew where to begin.

JJ’s hands slipped under her sweater, cold fingers skating along the bare skin of Emily’s back. She gasped against JJ’s mouth, a shiver ripping through her, and JJ just whispered, “Off,” tugging at the hem.

Emily pulled away just long enough to strip the sweater over her head. JJ’s eyes dragged over her, slow and reverent, and Emily felt her cheeks heat.

“What?” she breathed, suddenly self-conscious.

JJ blinked, like she hadn’t realized she was staring. “You’re…stupidly pretty,” she said, voice hushed but certain.

Emily barked a soft laugh and kissed her again, tasting the smile still on JJ’s lips. “You’re such a dork.”

JJ hummed. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

Emily grinned, raising her brows with theatrical insistence. “Then we can just be dorky together.”

JJ froze. Looked at her. Completely expressionless.

Emily blinked.

“That’s it,” JJ said, voice dry as bone. “You’re talking this off if you’re gonna say shit like that.”

She slipped her thumbs beneath the band of Emily’s bra, nails grazing skin like punctuation.

Emily’s brain blue screened.

JJ looked up, finally, still expressionless, except for the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth. A flicker of dry amusement, like she knew exactly what she was doing and had every intention of continuing until Emily lost the ability to form coherent sentences.

“God, you’re annoying,” Emily murmured, breathless.

“Mm,” JJ hummed, unfazed. “And you're still wearing too many clothes.”

Emily didn’t argue. She sat up slightly, slipping out of her bra in one clean motion, and tossed it somewhere she wouldn’t be able to find later. JJ’s gaze tracked her the whole way, not greedy or surprised. Just…absorbed.

Then JJ leaned in and kissed her again. Slower now. More deliberate. Less urgency, more weight. Like she had no intention of rushing through this. Emily melted into it, hands sliding under the hem of JJ’s shirt, fingertips brushing skin. JJ didn’t stop her.

They undressed each other with quiet determination. No teasing, no performance. Just warmth and mouths and breath and the soft scrape of denim being kicked off into the abyss. They shifted together on the couch, bodies pressing close, skin meeting skin with a quiet sigh of relief. Emily felt her whole body relax at the gentle pressure of JJ’s body weight over her.

JJ’s hand skimmed up Emily’s side. Her mouth followed, trailing kisses that made Emily’s breath catch in her throat. She was so careful. So focused. Like every inch of her mattered. Like she was trying to memorize her by touch.

Emily’s own hands weren’t idle. She dragged her knuckles slowly along the back of JJ’s thigh, earning a shiver, then slid her palm higher. JJ’s breath stuttered. Her mouth found Emily’s again, hungrier this time. Messier. More honest.

Emily wasn’t sure when they stopped thinking.

They moved together like a current, like gravity. Mouths open, fingers tangled, hearts thudding against ribs. It wasn’t frantic, but it was desperate in its own way. Like they were both trying to say something they couldn’t quite say out loud.

When the tension built to something sharp and pulsing and impossible to ignore, Emily locked eyes with her.

“Jen.” Emily whispered, the name catching low in her throat, more breath than voice.

JJ’s eyes fluttered open, and for one suspended second, the whole world narrowed to that gaze, bright and burning and impossibly gentle.

“I know.” JJ breathed, forehead pressing to Emily’s, their noses brushing, breath mingling.

Emily’s hands gripped at JJ’s back, not hard, just firm, needing the anchor. JJ shifted, fitting herself more snugly between Emily’s legs, and Emily let her head fall back against the cushion with a quiet gasp as JJ’s mouth found the column of her throat.

It was all feeling now. No choreography. No doubt.

JJ’s hands were slow but sure, slipping across her ribs, over her hips, down...

Emily matched her pace. Deliberate, reverent. She ran a hand through JJ’s hair, her other sliding down JJ’s side, palm mapping the curve of her waist with something close to awe.

They moved together with a kind of quiet urgency, not hurried, but desperate to feel everything, to leave nothing unspoken between their bodies.

Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d let someone touch her like this. He didn’t. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted someone to.

JJ’s thigh sliding between hers cut off a spiral before it could start. A low moan escaped before she could swallow it down. JJ’s hands tightened briefly at her waist, grounding her, guiding her. Their rhythm found itself, slow and purposeful, breath for breath, pulse for pulse.

Emily’s fingers curled against JJ’s back. She tilted her hips, needing more. JJ gave it, without hesitation, without question. Her lips brushed Emily’s temple, then her cheek, then her jaw, like a silent promise: I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Their pace stuttered once, a shared gasp, a soft curse, and then held again. JJ pressed her forehead to Emily’s, their noses bumping. Her eyes were wide, wild, but still so present.

“Right here,” JJ murmured. “With you.”

That did something to Emily. Broke something open. She surged up slightly, mouth catching JJ’s in a kiss that was all teeth and trembling lips. JJ kissed her back with everything she had, no finesse, just heat and devotion and years of withheld want.

The tension in Emily’s body coiled tighter, sharper, until it was barely contained. She felt JJ start to tremble too, hips pressing harder, breath going ragged.

And then, together, they shattered.

Emily’s voice broke into JJ’s hair. JJ buried hers in Emily’s shoulder.

It wasn’t fireworks. It was deeper than that. Heavier. A quiet kind of undoing that left both of them gasping, clutching, eyes wet for reasons neither of them dared name.

They stilled. And breathed.

And breathed.

And breathed.

JJ didn’t move. Just stayed folded against Emily’s chest, one hand splayed over her sternum like she was anchoring herself there.

Emily’s heart still beat too fast.

She let her hand drift up JJ’s back, brushing sweat-damp strands of hair from her neck. Her lips found JJ’s temple in a kiss that was more exhale than anything else.

“Jesus.” Jennifer whispered, her voice wrecked.

Emily didn’t say anything. She just reached for the nearest blanket and pulled it over both of them, wrapping her arms securely around JJ, rubbing slow circles on her spine. JJ nuzzled into Emily's neck, her breath slightly tickling.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Eventually, JJ shifted slightly, sighing contentedly against Emily’s shoulder, then frowned.

Emily felt it too. Something...squishy.

“Wait…” JJ murmured, lifting the blanket. Her hand fumbled around between them, and then...

“Oh my God.” She said flatly, holding it up between two fingers. She came up holding a squashed dino nugget like it was radioactive. “We have a stowaway.”

Emily blinked. “Is that...”

JJ turned it over grimly. “Headless. Tragic.”

Emily groaned, rubbing her face. “Please tell me I didn’t just get railed on top of a chicken nugget.”

JJ examined the smushed corpse. “Well, a dino nugget."

She let her head thunk back against the cushion. “I swear to God, if I smell like dinosaur tomorrow...”

JJ didn’t miss a beat. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Emily’s shoulder, smug as hell. “It’s fine. You’re hot. You can smell like a prehistoric Lunchable and still get laid.”

Emily groaned. “That is…simultaneously the most insulting and flattering thing anyone's ever said to me.”

JJ smirked, still holding the tragic nugget. “Welcome to dating me.”

Emily didn’t laugh this time. Just looked at her, really looked at her. Eyes soft, but steady. Her voice was quieter when she spoke. “Is that what we’re doing?”

The smile slipped from JJ’s face, not gone, just softened. Like she’d been waiting for the question without realizing it. She set the nugget down on the coffee table like it was breakable. Her eyes didn’t leave Emily’s. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Even when she's flailing, she takes my breath away.

Emily decided to take pity on her. She was a smart woman. The confessions. The banter. The intimacy, physical and not. It was all pointing her in one direction. So she leaned back slightly after pressing a kiss to JJ's forehead, partially to stall and partially because she couldn't help herself and spoke in Italian. "I hope you matter tomorrow."

JJ’s head tilted. There was a flicker of recognition, but mostly just a confused kind of curiosity.

Emily swallowed, her voice soft. "I said it that night. When you asked me to say something..." Emily trailed off when JJ nodded her head quickly in recognition. "It means I hope you matter tomorrow. I said it too."

JJ's eyes softened. More than before, if that was even possible. She didn’t speak, just looked at Emily like she was trying to memorize her.

"So, what I'm trying to say," Emily continued, quieter now, "is...you do. Matter. Today, tomorrow, any day."

JJ didn’t answer.

She just looked at Emily for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across her face. Then, without a word, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Emily’s. Just stayed there.

Not kissing. Not smiling. Just there.

Emily didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She let her eyes slip closed and brought a hand up to the back of JJ’s neck, holding her gently, like she knew exactly what this was. Not silence, but something louder.

JJ stayed there a long time. Breathing Emily in. Grounding herself.

And then, slowly, she shifted down and tucked herself right under Emily’s chin, holding her so tight, a quiet hum of contentment the only sound she made.

Emily adjusted the blanket over both of them, kissed the top of JJ’s head, and whispered, “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Emily woke to the vague, disorienting sense that she was too warm and too alone.

The couch cushion beside her was empty. Faintly indented and long past cold. The blanket had slipped down to her waist at some point in the night. Her bra was missing. Her hair was a mess. She was pretty sure there was a smiley fry stuck to her thigh.

And...she blinked...her sock was on her hand.

A slow, confused glance around the room confirmed that she was still in her apartment. Barely. Boxes lined the walls like sentries. But something was…different.

Rummaging. She heard rummaging. And soft swearing.

Emily sat up, blanket falling into her lap, and squinted toward the kitchen.

JJ stood in the middle of a half-unpacked chaos tornado. One of Emily’s T-shirts (hers, no question, it said I Shot the Serif across the chest) was tugged over JJ’s frame. Her hair was wild. She had a spatula in one hand and a bundle of Emily’s socks in the other.

“You’re naked.” JJ said without looking up.

Emily cleared her throat. “Technically, I’m wearing one sock.”

JJ glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes dropped, then dragged slowly back up. “Correction: you’re wearing a sock on your hand, and it’s inside out.”

“I make bold fashion choices.”

JJ turned back to the drawer she was shoving kitchen utensils into. “And I’m making bold organizational mistakes. So we’re even.”

Emily stood, stretching slowly, tugging the blanket around her shoulders like a cape. “What are you doing?”

“Panicking productively.” JJ opened a cabinet and placed a random assortment of mugs and strainers onto the same shelf. “I woke up early and there were boxes, and I…” she paused, “I just started.”

“You reorganized my entire kitchen.”

“Well…I unpacked your entire kitchen…and did laundry.” JJ picked up an overfilled laundry basket from the ground and set it on the counter.

Emily gave her a look and padded closer to the counter. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

JJ shrugged. “You weren’t using it.”

“And you’re folding my underwear.”

JJ held up a pair of black lace panties, inspected them, and nodded in approval. “Some of these are hot.” Emily raised a brow. JJ shrugged and held up a pair that looked like a diaper. “Some, not so much.”

Emily narrowed her eyes and moved to the nearest drawer. Opened it. Blinked.

“Why are my tongs in with the cling wrap?”

JJ didn’t look up. “They’re both long?”

Emily opened a cabinet. “You put my cheese grater with the cereal.”

“That one made sense at the time.”

Another cabinet. “JJ. Why is there a lone can of chickpeas next to my wine glasses?”

JJ spun to face her, flustered but trying desperately to maintain dignity. “Okay, yes, it’s a bit unconventional. But I would like to point out that I basically lived alone at eleven, and my logic for where things go was forged in the crucible of tragic, unsupervised independence.”

Emily crossed her arms, still swaddled in her blanket cape. “And your logic system says chickpeas and wine go together?”

JJ made a helpless sound. “You don’t not want protein when you’re tipsy?”

Emily gave her a long, pointed stare.

JJ groaned and buried her face in the tea towel she was holding. “I’m spiralling.”

“You think?” Emily leaned against the counter beside her. “You cooked spaghetti at eight in the morning.”

JJ winced. “I needed something to do with my hands!”

Emily couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You put it in the salad spinner.”

She frantically waved a hand in the direction of the sink. “It still drained!”

The slight look of distress flashed across her face sobered Emily up right away. Without thinking, she stepped forward and grabbed JJ’s hands, pulling her in. “Okay, okay.”

JJ froze a second, then melted. She tucked herself into Emily’s chest like it was the only place she wanted to be. Face pressed to her neck, breath warm against her skin.

Her hands slid up Emily’s back beneath the blanket cape, hooking over her shoulders. “I know it’s weird,” she mumbled into Emily’s collarbone. “I know I shouldn’t have touched your stuff. I just…” She exhaled slowly. “I didn’t want to sit still. So I didn’t.”

Emily gently scratched her nails at the base of JJ’s head. “And you didn’t want to try going back to sleep?”

JJ hesitated. Then shook her head, still buried in her.

Emily huffed a gentle laugh and cupped JJ’s face gently, coaxing her to look up. “Why?” she asked, soft as breath.

JJ didn’t answer right away.

Then, almost too quietly, “Because if I fell asleep, I might wake up and it would all feel different.”

Emily’s heart clenched. She exhaled. “Jennifer…” She brushed her thumbs over JJ's cheeks.

JJ blinked, trying to look away. “I was worried when I woke up that maybe you’d…feel different. About last night.” She swallowed. “I just wanted a few extra hours feeling the way I do right now.”

Emily didn’t say anything at first. She reached a thumb up and smoothed the crease between JJ’s eyebrows. JJ’s gaze snapped up to Emily’s at the contact. She worried a lip like maybe she’d said too much.

So Emily leaned forward, barely an inch, and pressed her forehead to JJ’s.

“I don’t feel different.” She murmured. “And I'll tell you as many times as I need to. If anything…I feel more.” JJ closed her eyes. Breathed out.  “I kind of like that you took over my kitchen. It’s...oddly charming.”

“You say that now…but wait until you find where I put the can opener.” JJ’s arms dragged down Emily’s back again, dipping rather low before freezing. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Um. I’m gonna need you to put some clothes on.

Emily tilted her head, amused. “Distracted?”

JJ gave her a look; dry, wide-eyed, slightly red. “I’m emotionally compromised and you’re 95% naked and being very sweet. I am one second away from spontaneously combusting.”

Emily bit back a grin. “Noted.” She reached for the laundry basket. “Any recommendations?”

JJ didn’t even blink. “Something with maximum coverage and zero temptation.”

Emily raised a brow. “So…a turtleneck and chainmail pants?”

JJ nodded solemnly. “Ideally, yes.” Emily threw an old college sweater over her head and pulled on some boy shorts. JJ watched the whole thing like she deserved a medal. Emily kissed her when she was done. “This isn’t what we agreed on.” JJ’s hands ran over Emily’s hips and drifted lower again, but this time with intention.

“You okay now?” Emily asked when they pulled apart. JJ gave a soft nod. “Well, I’m happy you dealt with this with chaotic organization and didn’t just leave.”

JJ didn’t react at first. Just blinked. Then frowned, like the idea had never even occurred to her. “I didn’t...think about that.”

Emily’s brows lifted. “You didn’t think about leaving?”

JJ shook her head slowly.

Emily didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at her. And something inside her…stilled.

It wasn’t what JJ said. Not really. It was how she said it. Quiet, thoughtless, like the idea of leaving hadn’t even crossed her mind. Like waking up and stealing Emily's clothes, in Emily’s space, after everything, had felt natural. Emily didn’t know what to do with that. Not because it scared her, but because it didn’t.

Because for the first time in a long time, someone had seen her, really seen her, not the version she polished for strangers or teammates or assignments, and hadn’t run.

JJ had seen the unguarded pieces: the sharp ones, the unflattering ones, the goofy, awkward, dorky, too-much ones. And she stayed. She didn’t even think about not staying.

Emily swallowed hard. Not to push the feeling down, but just to hold it steady. To give it space.

She let out a slow breath. “Okay.” She said quietly.

JJ’s brows pulled slightly, like she wasn’t confused by Emily, but by herself. Like she didn’t understand why it hadn’t even crossed her mind to leave and was only just starting to feel the weight of that.

Emily brushed a thumb over JJ's cheek once more and spoke softly. "I'll go make us some coffee."

JJ nodded and stepped back from Emily's embrace, hands dragging away.

Emily turned toward the kitchen, dragging a hand through her hair. She moved on autopilot toward the cupboard above the sink, where the coffee always was.

It wasn’t.

She opened the one beside it. Then another. Nothing.

She crouched to check the lower cabinet. Pasta. A mug. A whisk.

She stood again, slowly. “JJ?” Her voice was quiet. Not irritated. Just confused.

JJ appeared in the doorway. Still barefoot, still in that stolen T-shirt. “Yeah?”

“Where’s the coffee?”

JJ pointed without hesitation. “Above the stove. Behind the colander.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. Opened the cupboard.

There it was. Coffee, filters, and yes, the colander, upside down like it had been used as a lid.

Emily pulled it out slowly. “Why?”

JJ just said, “That’s where I’d look,” like that was an explanation.

"So you knew I had a colander, found said colander, and still used the salad spinner to drain your weird spaghetti."

JJ shrugged. “I panicked. It felt right.”

Emily stared at her for a second. Then exhaled slowly and set the coffee down on the counter. She opened two drawers in quick succession, then a third.

No scoop. No French press. A lone spatula wedged under the cling wrap.

One more drawer, and there they were: all her spatulas, gathered in a saucepan like a kitchen bouquet.

She closed the drawer gently. Pressed her palms to the counter.

“I don’t know where anything is.”

JJ didn’t answer right away. Then: “Sorry.”

Emily shook her head. Not annoyed. “Do you want to go out?”

JJ looked at her, wary. “For coffee?”

"And breakfast. I need caffeine before I try to figure this shit out." Emily waved a hand around the kitchen.

JJ cringed a bit. "Sure."

Emily exhaled. “Good. Pants. I’ll need real pants.”

JJ looked her over once, from sock to collar. “That’s probably for the best.”

Emily pulled a pair of sweatpants from the laundry basket, shaking them out before slipping them on.

JJ hovered a few steps back. She glanced once around the room, then at the basket. She hesitated.

Emily didn’t look at her, not directly, but she saw it. That flicker of pause. The way JJ’s fingers lingered at the edge of the folded hoodie like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed.

Like maybe this counted as something too intimate now that Emily was awake and JJ was less distressed.

But then, quietly, she reached for it anyway. A hoodie and a pair of joggers. A bit loose, and touch too long.

She didn’t say anything. Just let it happen. Let JJ move through her space like it wasn’t a borrowed moment, like she belonged there even if she didn’t fully believe she did yet.

But Emily felt it. That quiet bloom of something steady in her chest. Not possession. Not surprise. Just...something that felt like being chosen.

And not for what she performed. Not for who she could impress. Just for being her. And JJ was standing in the middle of her apartment, in her clothes, trying not to look like she wanted to stay.

Please stay.

They walked in silence for the first few blocks. The morning air was cool and damp, early light filtering through low clouds. JJ stayed close, not touching, but there. Like she was still trying to match her steps to something steady.

She led them to a diner tucked between a tailor shop and a dry cleaner. The kind of place you had to know was there. Faded red sign. Fogged-up windows. Coffee that probably hadn’t been fresh since dawn. She held the door for JJ without thinking.

Inside, the heat hit them immediately. Stale toast, syrup, coffee grounds. Familiar, in a way Emily couldn’t quite name.

They were seated at a booth by the window. A waitress came by with two chipped mugs and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She poured coffee without asking, left two laminated menus, and disappeared again.

JJ wrapped her hands around her mug like she needed something to hold. She didn’t drink, just stared into it.

Emily took a sip. Bitter. Burned. Weirdly comforting.

JJ hadn’t said much since they sat down. She was quiet in a way that felt familiar. More...measured. Like something had started to rebuild behind her eyes. The version of JJ the world saw.

It wasn’t a wall. Not yet. But Emily could feel the shape of it starting. So she stayed quiet. Let the silence breathe. Let JJ come back in her own time. And then, finally...

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said quietly.

Emily didn’t flinch. “Okay.”

JJ glanced at her, just briefly. “It’s not bad. I just…” She shook her head, brow tightening. “Something feels different.”

Emily let her fingers trace the edge of her mug. “About this morning?"

JJ nodded. “About everything. I woke up and I didn’t...” She stopped, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I woke up today and I didn’t feel like myself. But not in a bad way. Just…”

Emily waited.

JJ looked at her again, eyes sharper now. “I want things.” She paused. “People.” Her voice stayed low, like it was still forming as she said it. “Penelope, Spencer, Derek,” she added softly. Her face twisted a little but then softened again. “You.”

Emily still didn’t speak. Just listened.

JJ exhaled, her fingers tightening around the mug. “I want some of the people in my life to be closer than I let them.” She said it uncomfortably. Like it didn’t fit in her mouth. Awkward. Jagged.

Emily’s voice was quiet. “That doesn’t sound like not knowing what you’re doing.” She gave a soft shrug. “Sounds like figuring it out.”

JJ paused, before chuckling. She scrunched her nose. "That was pretty cheesy."

Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m allowed one heartfelt moment per fiscal quarter. Next time I’ll use a sports metaphor.”

JJ smiled a wide one. Bigger than she has all morning. "Thank you."

Emily didn’t answer right away. Just nodded once. Small. Sure.

Their waitress reappeared with a pencil behind her ear and a notepad in hand. “You two ready?”

JJ ordered first. Pancakes, extra butter, orange juice.

Emily didn’t look at the menu. “Same.”

The waitress smiled vaguely. “I’ll have that out quick.”

When they were alone again, JJ went quiet. Not retreating, just settling. She sipped her coffee, eyes on the window, shoulders no longer drawn up quite so tight.

Emily sat back in the booth, hands around her own mug, and watched her for a moment. She didn’t know what made her speak. Maybe it was the way JJ’s guard had dropped and then slowly begun to reassemble, piece by piece. Maybe it was the quiet. The soft hum of a morning that didn’t demand anything of her. Or maybe it was just the instinct, the compulsion to give something back.

Emily kept her eyes on her mug. “My mother hated pancakes.” That earned a small head tilt from JJ. Not questioning. Just listening. Emily’s voice was calm, casual. “Too messy. Too soft. She thought breakfast should be…efficient.” JJ didn’t say anything, just waited, inviting more without asking for it. Emily stared down at the scratched table surface. “She used to eat grapefruit with a spoon and pretend she wasn’t making a face.”

JJ let out the smallest huff of breath. A quiet, almost-sad smile tugged at her mouth. “That sounds terrible.”

Emily lifted her mug. “It was. That’s why I like this place.”

JJ looked around, then back at her. “Because they serve pancakes?”

Emily met her eyes. “Because it’s nothing like home.” Then tilted her head. "Well, it's nothing like how I grew up." Emily chuckled and tapped the rolled-up silverware. "No polished silverware. Only one fork and one knife. And, my god, I think my mother would have brain aneurysm if she ever used a napkin like this. Only fine linen for the ambassador."

Emily chuckled before looking up. JJ was frozen with her coffee mug almost to her mouth. Emily could practically hear the record scratch.

"Prentiss..."  she repeated, low. “Wait. As in Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss?”

Emily blinked, "...yeah? I thought you all knew."

JJ let out a breath, half-scoff. “Yeah, no. I was a little too busy having a full-blown meltdown to connect any dots.” Emily tilted her head, amused. JJ shook her head. “Seriously. Emotional triage. Blackout levels of denial. I was doing mental gymnastics worthy of a gold medal just to pretend you weren't fully lodged under my skin.”

Emily smirked. “So my mother slipped under the radar.”

JJ gave a tired laugh and picked up her coffee again, wrapping her hands around the mug. She went quiet for a moment. Then, softer. “I actually met her once, well, sort of.”

Emily stilled.

JJ didn’t look at her, just stared into her coffee like it might help organize her thoughts. “She walked into a briefly the Director was having with the State Department like she owned the building. Said maybe six words, scared the shit out of three senior advisors, and left without waiting for a response.” She finally looked up. “I wasn’t even in the room. I was standing outside. But I heard about her far before that. Her reputation proceeds her.” JJ shivered slightly.

Emily barked a short laugh, more breath than sound. “Yeah. That tracks.”

JJ shook her head slowly, eyes still on her. “How did you turn out the way you did?

Emily blinked. Then gave a quiet, tired laugh. “I turned out almost exactly how she wanted me to. Apart from not going into politics.”

JJ’s brow furrowed, like she didn’t believe that, like it didn’t line up with the woman sitting in front of her now.

Emily looked down at her coffee, her voice dry. “But she taught me how to adapt. Flawlessly. How to read a room. How to be what people needed before they even asked.” She glanced back up at JJ, and there was something sharp behind her eyes. Not anger. Just honesty. “She taught me how to weaponize a smile.” JJ’s expression didn’t change, but her posture shifted just slightly. Her eyes softened.

Emily tilted her head. “You called me out on it not even a week ago." JJ let out a slow breath, remembering. “You were right,” Emily said simply. Emily didn’t speak right away after that. Just let her fingers curl tighter around the mug.

It happened sometimes, the slippage. The way certain postures crept in. A glance, a smile, a perfectly placed pause. It wasn’t always intentional. It wasn’t even always useful. But it was familiar. Safe.

She used to think those masks were tools. Disguises she could pull off and on like armour, but somewhere along the line, they stopped feeling like covers and started feeling like layers. She couldn’t always tell where one ended, and she began.

Sometimes, when she caught herself laughing too quickly or mirroring a tone too smoothly, she wondered if it was really her at all or just some echo of Lauren or one of the other names she’d worn like second skin.

It scared her more than she liked to admit.

Because JJ wasn’t looking at Lauren. Or the woman who made people comfortable at embassy galas. She was looking at her. The one who still didn’t know how to sit still without performing. The one who hadn’t yet figured out what it meant to be real.

JJ was quiet for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against Emily’s. Then, gently: “You’re nothing like your mother.”

Emily blinked. Frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?” She wasn’t defensive. Just genuinely confused. “That is my mother. All of it. The performance. The adapting. The smiling when you want to scream.”

JJ nodded. “I heard you.” Emily waited for the but. JJ looked down at their hands, then back up. Her voice was soft. Sure. “But I was there that night. You looked like you’d barely made it through the day, but you still clocked that I couldn’t catch my breath.”

Emily stilled. JJ didn’t let go.

“You didn’t know me. But you saw me. You didn’t try to fix me. You just stayed. Let me come to you. And then gave me little pieces of yourself in return. Not because I asked. But because you knew I needed you to.” She swallowed. “And on the jet…you didn’t even say anything. You just…let me lean on you.”

Emily’s eyes dropped, unsure what to do with the weight of that.

“And last night…” JJ’s voice faltered for just a second, then steadied. “You let me talk like I was still figuring out how. You gave me space. You kissed me like you meant it. And this morning, you didn’t run. You reached for me.” She gave a small breath of a laugh. “I know enough that that’s not your mother.”

JJ tilted her head, catching Emily’s gaze. “You might’ve learned when to hide and when to shine from her. She gave a small shrug. “But this version of you? She’s not polished. She’s not careful. She’s just…you.” A beat. "“You say what matters. You pull back when someone needs space. You sit in silence when it’s not easy. And somehow,” she added dryly, “you make dino nuggets feel like emotional honesty.” JJ’s voice dropped slightly. “That’s not hiding. That’s real. And it’s not her.”

Emily didn’t speak. Not for a long moment. But her hand turned over slowly in JJ’s, fingers curling back. JJ just stayed still. Let her.

A soft shuffle of footsteps neared. “Pancakes for two,” the waitress said, sliding the plates down with easy precision. “You’re all set, but holler if you need anything.”

Emily murmured a quiet thank you. JJ gave a polite smile. Neither looked up until the waitress was gone.

Steam curled up from the butter-soft stacks. The syrup bottle thudded gently onto the table between them. The kind of simple, thoughtless moment that didn’t ask anything of them.

Emily reached for her fork. Then paused. Her hand brushed JJ’s again, lingering just long enough to make it feel intentional. JJ didn’t move away.

They ate quietly for a moment. No rush. Just the soft clink of forks and the low hum of conversation from other tables.

Emily was halfway through cutting another bite when JJ’s fork suddenly appeared in her peripheral vision and stole a piece of pancake clean off her plate. Emily paused mid-motion. Turned her head slowly. JJ chewed, completely unfazed.

Emily stared at her. “Did you just—”

JJ nodded, mouth full. “Yup.”

Emily blinked. “Our plates are exactly the same.”

JJ swallowed. “Yeah, but yours looked fluffier.”

Emily squinted. “What does that even mean?”

JJ just grinned, already eyeing her plate again.

Emily shook her head, dry as dust. “You’re lucky I’m emotionally compromised.”

JJ stole another bite without breaking eye contact. “I know.”

Emily shifted the next piece, the one with the extra butter, to the edge of her plate. Neither of them said anything. But JJ’s smile softened just slightly.

Eventually, Emily set her fork down and glanced her way, casually. “You have plans today?”

"No. I figured I’d just...stay where you are."

Emily stilled. JJ blinked, registering what she’d just said. Her mouth opened slightly, like she was going to backpedal, but she didn’t.

Emily didn’t tease. Didn’t smirk. She just looked at JJ for a long, quiet second. And then, gently, “Can I take you somewhere?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Of course.”

Emily’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “It’s not far.”

JJ held her gaze a beat longer. “It doesn't matter.”

They lingered for a few minutes after that.

Neither in a rush to leave. Just finishing coffee, picking at syrup-soaked crumbs, their knees gently touching under the table.

JJ reached for her wallet the moment the check hit the table, but Emily was already there.

JJ narrowed her eyes. “Hey-”

“I got it,” Emily said, standing, already setting cash on the table.

“I got it,” Emily said, standing, already setting cash on the table.

JJ sighed. “Fine. But next time I’m paying.”

Emily looked over her shoulder. “Not if I beat you to it.” JJ just rolled her eyes and pulled on her coat.

They stepped out into the cool morning. The sidewalk glistened faintly from earlier rain. Emily tucked her hands in her coat pockets. JJ walked beside her, a little closer than before. Their shoulders brushed. Then brushed again. Then, somewhere near the corner, JJ reached out casually, almost like it wasn’t a choice at all and slid her hand into Emily’s coat pocket.

Emily didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look surprised. She just laced their fingers together like that was the plan all along. Neither of them said a word.

By the time they reached Emily’s building, the silence felt warm. Like the kind you didn’t have to fill. Emily veered toward her car, reached for the keys in her coat, and unlocked the passenger side. She opened the door without a word. JJ gave her a quick look, like she wanted to ask where they were going but decided against it. It doesn't matter. The thought landed like sunlight warming her skin.

She just squeezed Emily’s hand once, then slid into the seat. Emily shut the door gently behind her and rounded the car.

The drive was quiet, but not distant. JJ just watched the city slide past the window, her knee pressed against Emily's hand that rested on the gear shift. When they finally pulled into a small lot across from a low stone building, JJ straightened a little in her seat, curious. She read the sign near the entrance. United States Botanic Garden.

She blinked. “This is...?”

Emily cut the engine and glanced over at her. “Not Venice,” she said softly. “But good enough.”

JJ turned to her, eyes flickering.

Emily shrugged, just slightly. “I hadn’t thought about that day in years. Not really. But when I told you the story…I don’t know. It stuck with me. And I remembered this place existed. Figured it was worth seeing if it still felt the same.”

JJ smiled, quiet and real. “And does it?”

Emily hesitated, then reached for her door handle. “Let’s find out.”

They walked in without speaking. The air inside shifted instantly; humid, rich, green. It smelled like earth and water and something faintly sweet that JJ couldn’t place.

It was warm but not stifling. Like walking into a living breath.

JJ slowed instinctively, eyes drifting up toward the high glass ceiling, where sunlight filtered through like it was being sifted. Emily didn’t lead. She just walked beside her, hands in her coat pockets, gaze steady but calm.

JJ’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke. “It’s beautiful.”

Emily glanced at her. Didn’t bother hiding the look. She was supposed to be admiring the greenhouse. But all she could see was JJ. “Yeah,” she said. And meant something else entirely.

They moved deeper into the garden, past draping vines and delicate blossoms arranged with quiet intention. The air smelled faintly of soil and warmth and something almost sweet, like the inside of a memory.

JJ trailed a step behind for a moment, fingers brushing along the wooden railing near a bed of ferns. She didn’t speak. Not right away. Then: “You surprised me. On the plane.”

Emily looked over, brows raised slightly.

JJ didn’t meet her eyes. She was focused on a narrow path lined with orchids, her voice low. “When I said all that. About my sister. My mom.” She picked at the cuff of the too-long sleeve she was still wearing. “I didn’t really expect you to stay...but I knew you would. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “It makes perfect sense. I...didn’t expect that. How you grew up.”

JJ nodded, almost to herself. “Yeah. I didn’t either.”

They walked in silence again, boots muffled on the soft path. The stillness felt like part of the garden. Quiet and green and full of unsaid things.

JJ finally looked over. “I don’t talk about it. Ever.”

“I know.”

“I’m not good at it.”

Emily gave the smallest smile. “I know that too.”

JJ nudged her gently with her shoulder. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Emily’s mouth curved. “Didn’t think about leaving.”

JJ exhaled. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sigh. But her smile, when it came, was real. Soft around the edges. Like something that could stay. Emily’s gaze lingered.

They walked a few more steps. The path curved slightly, sunlight pooling at their feet like something poured from glass.

Then Emily asked, just as soft, just as sure: “Do you want to talk about it?”

JJ didn’t answer. She looked at her for a long second. Eyes steady and unreadable, then gently reached out and took Emily’s coat sleeve between her fingers. A soft tug. Nothing urgent. Just a silent this way.

Emily didn’t press. She let JJ lead them through a narrow turn of the path, past something blooming in wild clusters of orange and purple. Her boots brushed against a fallen leaf.

And still, JJ said nothing. But she was moving with intent now. Eyes searching for something. Not fleeing. Looking. Emily let her fall a step ahead. Watched the way JJ’s hand trailed over the low rail. The way her shoulders held tight, then eased a little with every step.

The path narrowed, curling off to one side behind a tall curtain of greenery. Not quite hidden, but not part of the main trail either. JJ stepped through first, pushing a low frond aside, and emerged into a small clearing with a weathered bench tucked beneath a tree heavy with soft green leaves. The pond beyond it was shallow and still. Lily pads floated across the surface like lazy punctuation.

Emily blinked. It was quiet here. Quieter than the rest of the garden. Like sound itself softened at the edges.

JJ sat first. Her hands settled palm-down on the bench, steady but not quite relaxed. Emily sat a moment later, close, but not crowding her.

She’s not avoiding the question. She’s walking toward the answer.

And sure enough, after a minute or two, JJ exhaled like she’d been holding something in her chest since the moment they stepped inside the greenhouse.

Then, without looking over: "It took me a long time to realize how fucked up it was...to be left that way. That no one did anything." Her voice was quiet. Matter of fact. Not dramatic. Just...true.

“I didn’t even think to be angry for a while. I was just...managing. School, food, pretending it was fine when it wasn’t. Making sure she didn’t wander off or burn the house down. I wasn’t thinking about what should’ve been happening. I was just trying to keep everything from falling apart.”

She exhaled, not quite a sigh. She sat forward slightly, elbows on her knees, folding the pamphlet they’d gotten at the entrance into neat, perfect squares. “And then I got older. Got to college. Realized that some kids had never gotten their own groceries before." Her fingers worked over the paper again, sharp crease after sharp crease.

“We lived out past town. All farmhouses. The first time I walked into town alone for groceries, I had a fistful of money I stole from my dead sister’s room. It was the only cash I knew existed in the house. And I’d already spent too long trying to get my mother to take care of me the way she should’ve.” JJ’s eyes didn’t move from the folded square now tucked between her fingers.

“I had a job by twelve. First it was newspapers. Then I picked wildflowers and sold them to the general store. The man who ran it pitied me, I think. But not enough to help. Gave me odd jobs. Never said a word about my family.” A small, hollow breath of laughter. “Eventually I started waitressing too.”

Emily stayed quiet. Just watched. Noticed the way JJ’s shoulders stayed steady, the way her hands moved with quiet intention. Like she’d said all of this before but only to herself.

“I thought I was providing. Thought I was doing something good. Then I got my first apartment and realized there were things like hydro, property taxes, health insurance...I’d never paid any of that. But the lights had always stayed on. The bills were paid.”

Her voice dropped, a shade lower. “That’s when I realized it must’ve been my father. He kept the lights on. Kept the property paid. Paid the credit card bill when I had to use it. But never checked in. Never said a word. Just let me struggle.” Her voice didn’t crack. But her fingers stilled.

She finally glanced at Emily. “How fucked up is that?”

Emily stayed quiet. But she watched. Watched the way JJ moved. Not frantic this time, not spiralling. Just…precise. Measured. The kind of methodical she got the night before. Thoughts that were finally spoken out loud.

That was the difference, she realized.

When JJ didn’t know what was wrong, she scrambled. Reorganized drawers and cooked spaghetti at sunrise and spiralled in silence until it cracked her open. But this JJ? This one knew. She’d lived with it. Labeled it. Folded it tight like the paper in her hands. And now she was letting Emily see what was written underneath.

She just watched JJ’s hand tighten around the paper. After a second, she reached into her own coat pocket and wordlessly held out her pamphlet. JJ took it without looking, as if it were the same one. As if nothing had changed. She kept folding.

“I came home from soccer practice one day and found her passed out on the floor. Called an ambulance. Thank God she was unconscious. I never would’ve gotten her there otherwise. Turns out she had cancer. Had probably been developing for years. But her mind was already gone.”

JJ folded the new pamphlet just as carefully as the first.

“When she came to, she screamed at me. Louder than ever before. She said awful things to me that day. One of the girls on my team was in the ER getting her ankle checked out. She heard it all. And she didn’t like me, because I was better than her and we played the same position. So she told everyone. Everyone.” JJ’s mouth twisted. Not in bitterness. Just memory. “That was the first time anyone knew how bad it was at home. And still, no one did anything. I became the punchline. The crazy girl. The one with the psycho mom. They repeated the things she yelled at me.”

Emily watched the way JJ's brow furrowed slightly in concentration, her hands moving slower now. Precision giving way to pressure.

“How fucked is that?” JJ murmured. “That the doctors saw I was sixteen, saw she was mentally ill, and still offered no guidance. I didn’t know you could put someone in care. Didn’t know how to ask. And even if I had, she wouldn’t have gone.”

The pamphlet was now just paper in her hands. No more creases left to make. Emily watched as her fingers hovered, unsure what to do.

“I watched her die,” JJ said. “Piece by piece. And then one day I called someone to come pick up the body.” She looked over at Emily, finally. Really looked. “And the first thing I felt was relief." Her voice snagged slightly, barely audible. "And I’ve been trying to reconcile that ever since.” Her voice had settled again. Not cold. Not closed. Just level. Honest. A slow unpacking of a box that had waited too long to be opened. Emily didn’t reach for her this time. She didn’t need to.

She just stayed there. Present. Watching the last fold. Noticing the shift. The difference between the JJ who had unpacked her kitchen in a chaos-storm of anxiety…and this one.

This JJ was steady. Sharp-edged. Tired. But clear.

Emily’s chest tightened. Not with fear. Not sadness. Just awe. She swallowed once. Then quietly.

“That’s not relief you need to justify.” JJ blinked. Almost surprised. Emily didn’t look away. “You were a kid. And you survived something impossible. Anyone would’ve broken. You didn’t.” A breath. Soft, sure. “I don’t know how you made it out of that and still turned into the person sitting next to me right now.” A pause. “But I’m glad you did.”

JJ’s face scrunched. Eyes misty, but no tears. She let out a long breath and leaned into Emily’s shoulder.

They sat like that for a while. JJ’s head resting against Emily’s shoulder, Emily letting the weight of her settle there. No one else came down the path. The world narrowed to soft leaves and shallow water and the hush of breath between them.

Eventually, JJ shifted. Just enough to sit up, to brush a sleeve beneath her eyes and let out a breath that was more release than anything else. Emily didn’t say anything. Just glanced over, her shoulder still warm where JJ had been.

JJ looked ahead at the pond, then down at the scraps of folded paper in her lap. “I think I might be hungry again.” She said softly.

Emily blinked. A small smile crept in. “You just had pancakes.”

“Emotional processing burns calories.”

Emily huffed out a laugh. “That’s not how metabolism works.”

JJ shrugged. “It is if I say it is.”

Emily tilted her head, studying her. “We could grab something on the way back. Or I can make something.”

JJ gave a faint grin. “You’re going to cook for me?”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Are you implying I can’t?”

“I’m implying you once used a salad spinner for pasta.”

Emily gave her a look. “That was you.”

JJ smiled wider, her expression lighter now. “Exactly. So you should prove you’re the responsible one.”

Emily bumped their shoulders together. “Fine. But you’re doing dishes.”

JJ stood, shaking out her legs. “Deal. But I’m also stealing bites off your plate again.”

“I figured.” Emily said dryly.

They started back down the path, not in a rush. Not trying to fill the quiet. Just walking side by side, closer than before. Eventually, JJ reached for Emily’s hand again. No hesitation this time. Emily glanced over. JJ, with a perfectly unconvincing tilt of her head, looked up at the ceiling like the architecture had just become incredibly interesting. Emily smiled. Didn’t say a word.

They wandered for a while after that. No agenda. No timeline. Just the slow movement of two people relearning ease. The garden bled into city sidewalks, which turned into coffee again, then a quiet stretch on Emily’s couch, half-watching something neither of them could later name. JJ’s legs ended up tossed over Emily’s lap like it had always been allowed.

Later, back in the kitchen, JJ perched on a stool with her elbows on the counter and a pencil in her hand, sketching a laughably detailed map of her “very specific sandwich method.” Arrows. Brackets. Notes like “bread must be toasted exactly 6/10 crisp” and “don’t let the tomato touch the cheese”.

Emily studied the blueprint with theatrical seriousness. “You could’ve joined the FBI just for sandwich schematics.”

JJ just grinned and stole a cucumber slice off the cutting board.

The sandwich turned out perfect. So did the quiet. They ate late, still in socks, the overhead light dimmed low. No music. Just the occasional clink of a fork and JJ humming in approval over her plate.

When they’d finished, JJ offered to do the dishes. Emily offered to fight her on that. Neither of them followed through. The plates were rinsed and left to dry, and they drifted back toward the living room.

The sun slipped away, and the city lights came on, but neither of them moved to turn on the lamp. The quiet was soft. Familiar.

At some point, JJ shifted. She half-lay against Emily, her cheek pressed to her shoulder, hand resting over Emily’s ribs like she wasn’t even thinking about it. Emily didn’t speak. Just stayed exactly as she was, gaze steady on the far wall, letting JJ settle. Letting the moment stretch. And when JJ whispered, not quite asleep, but close “I like it here,” Emily didn’t answer out loud. She just let her hand drift gently to JJ’s and held it there. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

By the time the sun disappeared from the window, neither of them mentioned the clock. Neither asked what came next. They didn’t have to.

"Wanna try sleeping in an actual bed tonight?"

JJ blinked. “Bold.”

Emily nodded, solemn. “Radical.”

JJ pushed off Emily. “I’m in if you are.” Emily stood up and held out both her hands to pull JJ to her feet and led them down the hallway to the bedroom. She pulled out two faded t-shirts and two sleep shorts, handing one of each to JJ. They changed in silence. Emily caught JJ looking with a raised eyebrow.

"Tired, not blind." JJ said unapologetically.

They moved to the en suite. Emily pulled a new toothbrush out of a package and squirted a dollop of toothpaste on it before handing it over to JJ.

JJ stared at it for a second, like it was something rare. Something heavy in its simplicity.

She took it gently. Brushed her teeth beside Emily in the mirror, quiet and half-asleep. They bumped shoulders once when they both reached for the tap at the same time.

Back in the bedroom, Emily climbed into bed first, flipping back the covers on JJ’s side without comment. JJ joined her a moment later, curling toward her automatically. Their knees brushed.

JJ exhaled. “Okay, yeah. This is better than the couch.”

Emily, already halfway asleep, cracked one eye open. “Told you.”

A beat. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Emily reached under the blanket and found JJ’s hand again. She laced their fingers without thinking. “No promises.”

They didn’t talk much about plans. Just let the weekend unfold.

JJ never went home. Never even brought it up. She stayed in Emily’s clothes, cycling through borrowed shirts and soft cotton shorts like they were hers, which, by day two, they sort of were. Emily didn’t ask. Just quietly made space. Started calling the drawer JJ tucked things into “yours” without thinking.

 She wandered into the kitchen, still half-wrapped in a blanket, and found JJ standing frozen in front of the open cabinet. Two mugs dangled from her fingers, one shaped like a moose head and the other bright pink with glitter letters that read Boss Babe.

JJ stared at them like they’d personally insulted her lineage.

Emily squinted. “You okay?”

JJ didn’t move. “These are my options.”

Emily eyed the mugs. “Tough call.”

"Nope." She put both down and pulled a measuring cup out from under the sink. Emily squinted at the cupboard. Who puts measuring cups there? But that thought became irrelevant when JJ poured her coffee in it and took a long, slow sip like it was a power move.

Later, they walked to the market. JJ claimed they needed “real vegetables.” Emily argued that frozen peas counted. JJ strongly disagreed. They came home with a jar of fancy honey, two loaves of fresh bread, a bag of popcorn, and absolutely no vegetables.

They cooked together that night. JJ teased Emily for measuring everything. Emily made fun of JJ for using the salt like it owed her money. It worked. Somehow.

After dinner, they ended up in the shower together. Not in a way that was planned. JJ was already brushing her teeth when Emily came in to turn on the water and didn’t object when JJ started adjusting the temperature like she lived there. Emily accidentally got shampoo in her eye. JJ laughed so hard she almost fell over. Emily retaliated by flicking water at her face, and it turned into a very wet, very slippery standoff that ended with JJ giggling against her shoulder and muttering, “We’re so bad at this.”

Emily pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Speak for yourself. I’m exceptional at this.”

Sunday morning, JJ sat cross-legged on Emily’s kitchen counter, wrapped in one of her oversized sweaters and sipping proudly from a plain white mug she’d bought at the market the day before.

It looked unassuming, almost delicate, until she tipped it slightly to take another sip, and Emily caught a glimpse of the message printed on the bottom in neat black type: You’ve been poisoned.

Emily blinked. “Seriously?”

JJ didn’t look up. “It’s important to start the day with honesty.”

Emily tried to make breakfast unassisted. Tried.

She stood in front of the drawers, squinting at the sticky notes she’d asked JJ to label everything with the day before. In theory, they were helpful. In reality…

She pulled open the drawer labeled “Shiv Me, Baby One More Time” and frowned at the tangle of cheese graters and one butter knife.

“This is not where I keep my knives.” She muttered.

From behind her, JJ offered nothing but a satisfied sip from her You’ve Been Poisoned mug, perched cross-legged on the counter like a feral kitchen sprite. “Define keep.”

Emily opened another drawer. “Stir the Drama”... Whisks. So many whisks. I'm positive I don't own this many whisks.

he sighed. “You labeled every single drawer.”

“You asked me to,” JJ said innocently.

“I meant, like, functionally.”

“These are functional,” JJ insisted, completely unbothered. “You just have to understand the system.”

Emily opened a cabinet that read “Dry but Hot” and found oven mitts. “This one actually makes sense.”

JJ raised her mug in a silent toast.

Eventually, Emily located the spatula in a drawer labeled “Flip Off” and the pans in “Crispy Crimes.” She decided not to ask about the cabinet labeled “Emotional Support Tupperware.”

She burned the first round of toast, undercooked the eggs, and added way too much pepper to the potatoes. But she plated everything with stubborn precision and carried it over to the table like she’d won a war.

JJ took a bite and made a dramatic face. “Mmm. Love a good tension-filled breakfast.”

Emily sat down with her own plate and gave her a look. “You could’ve offered to help.”

JJ grinned. “But then I wouldn’t get this amazing food and the thrill of watching you try to decode my labeling genius.”

Emily stabbed her eggs. “This is why I don’t cook for people.”

“You should do it more,” JJ said, nudging her foot under the table. “Keeps you humble.”

“Remind me to relabel your side of the bed as ‘Chaos Goblin Nest.’”

“Too late.” JJ deadpanned. “Already claimed the whole bed. You’re on borrowed mattress.”

Sunday afternoon drifted past like something they’d dreamed up.

They didn’t leave the apartment for a while. JJ stole the sunny spot on the couch and draped herself across it like a house cat. Emily made more coffee and dropped a blanket over her without a word. JJ grunted her approval and kept reading.

Later, they wandered down the block just to stretch their legs. It wasn’t an outing so much as an amble. One of those casual, slow walks where their arms brushed more than once and neither of them stepped away.

Emily pointed out a little bookstore she liked. JJ raised a brow and smirked. “You trying to get me to fall in love with you?”

Emily matched her tone easily. “Is it working?”

JJ scoffed, bumped her hip, and kept walking. “I plead the fifth.”

It was a joke. A throwaway line, light and familiar. But something about it lingered.

Emily stayed a half-step behind for a beat longer than necessary. Watching the way JJ’s hair caught the light. The way she moved through the world now like she was tethered to something solid here, with her.

She didn’t say anything. Just smiled to herself, quietly wrecked. I really fucking hope so.

They spent nearly an hour inside. JJ disappeared into nonfiction and reemerged with a cookbook titled ‘Chaos Cooking for Anxious People’. Emily found a used copy of a battered murder mystery and insisted it was a classic. JJ only rolled her eyes a little.

When they got back to the apartment, JJ labeled a drawer “Emergency Snacks (Not for Sharing)” and filled it with popcorn and half a loaf of bread. Emily tried to protest. JJ handed her a label that just read “Try Me.”

By the time the sun started going down, JJ had taken over the kitchen again. Emily offered to help, but mostly just peeled vegetables and got mocked for it.

“You peel like someone who was raised by silverware.” JJ said, utterly serious.

Emily gave her a deadpan look. “Says the woman who stores her measuring cups under the sink.”

JJ grinned. “That’s called creative resilience.”

Dinner was something cozy and slightly too salty. JJ ate most of hers and at least half of Emily’s, again. Emily gave up and started plating with that in mind.

Afterward, Emily curled on the couch with her feet in JJ’s lap while JJ flipped through the new cookbook. She read out increasingly unhinged recipe titles in dramatic voices until Emily was laughing into a pillow.

“I still can’t believe you bought that.”

JJ didn’t look up. “You’re welcome for my contribution to the arts.”

Emily didn’t argue. Just leaned back a little more, eyes fluttering closed, lulled by JJ’s voice and the warmth of her hand absently tracing circles on her ankle.

The apartment had gone soft around the edges. Dim lamp glow, empty plates on the coffee table, background music barely louder than a hum. JJ didn’t say anything when Emily stopped responding. Just kept flipping pages, one hand still anchored to Emily’s leg like it was second nature.

Eventually, Emily cracked one eye open and glanced toward the clock. “Is it still Sunday?”

JJ nodded without looking up. “For about forty more minutes.”

“Feels like we’ve been in here for a week.”

JJ smirked faintly. “In a good way?”

“In a suspiciously good way.”

She set the cookbook down, twisted a little so she could look at Emily properly. “You suspicious of me, Agent Prentiss?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “I’m suspicious of whatever magic trick you’re pulling to make two and a half days feel like ten years and also three seconds.”

JJ blinked. Then laughed, soft and unexpected. “Time dilation. It’s the sweater, obviously.” She tugged at the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt she’d found that morning buried in one of Emily’s donation piles. It was a hideous colour block monstrosity, burgundy and teal with mustard piping.

Emily gave her a long look. “Keep it.”

JJ’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah?”

Emily nodded once. “Consider it...a loan.”

JJ smiled at that. Quiet, easy. Then leaned forward and kissed her just once, simple and slow, the kind that made Emily forget how to breathe for a second.

When she pulled back, JJ let her forehead rest against Emily’s. “We should go to bed.”

Emily huffed softly. “That was a hell of a segue.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

They stood slowly. Neither in a rush to end the day. Emily went to turn off the lights. JJ picked up the abandoned mugs and empty plates. They moved around each other easily, familiar now in a way that made both of them pause once or twice, like realizing you knew a dance you never rehearsed.

In the bedroom, JJ flopped face-first onto the mattress. Emily changed into one of her college T-shirts, then grabbed the other and tossed it at JJ’s head.

A muffled voice came from under the fabric. “Rude.”

“Get dressed, feral goblin.”

JJ peeked out, grinning, then dragged herself upright and pulled the shirt over her head. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Emily turned off the last light. “I’m aware.”

They settled under the blankets, legs tangling. JJ curled closer. Emily didn’t pull away.

“Still suspicious?” JJ murmured, barely audible now.

Emily’s voice was a whisper against her hair. “Every minute.”

JJ smiled and fell asleep like that, softly, soundly, like she hadn’t done in a long time.

And Emily stayed awake just long enough to memorize the way that felt.

The alarm went off too early.

Not in hours, just in feeling.

The room was dim with early light when Emily stirred, with JJ still draped across her like her body didn’t quite remember how to sleep separately.

Emily shifted beneath her, pressing a lazy kiss to her hair. “It’s Monday.”

JJ groaned into her shoulder. “Why would you say that out loud?”

“You have to go home.”

JJ was quiet for a second. Then, muffled, “I don’t really want to.”

Emily stilled slightly.

JJ pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes. “I know I have to,” she added, a little too fast. “Clothes. Bag. Responsibilities. All that crap.”

Emily tried to smile, but something about it caught in her chest. “You need real clothes.”

JJ sighed. “You say that like I’m not thriving in your stolen hoodie.”

Emily glanced down at the ugly sweatshirt JJ discarded at the end of the bed. “It makes you look like a sitcom dad in mourning.”

“Exactly.” JJ said, straight-faced. “It’s called stealth bonding. Look it up.”

Emily huffed a quiet laugh, low in her chest. “You’re insufferable.”

JJ nestled in again like she hadn’t heard a word. “And yet, I’ve survived the night. Thrived, even.”

“You haven’t moved in eight hours.”

JJ shrugged, eyes still closed. “Peak performance.”

Emily let her fingers trail lazily up JJ’s back, slow and absent. Memorizing again. She didn’t want to get up either. Didn’t want to break whatever spell they’d accidentally woven across the weekend. But the clock kept ticking.

JJ groaned when Emily finally nudged her. “You’re heartless.”

“You’re going to be late.”

“I can be late.”

“You're never late.”

JJ cracked one eye open and gave her a look. She just rolled off with the grace of someone in mourning for her own weekend, groaning dramatically as she sat up. “I’m going to regret every life choice that led me to needing a bra again.”

Emily snorted and shifted to the edge of the bed. She grabbed JJ’s hips and guided her forward, settling her between her knees. Her hands slid up, slow and familiar, brushing over JJ’s ribs until her thumb skimmed the soft curve just beneath her breast. "It really is a shame." Emily murmured. Dry. Low. Almost reverent.

JJ huffed a laugh, but it caught somewhere in her throat when Emily looked up at her like that. “You’re not helping me leave.”  She muttered, leaning down and kissing her. Slow, unhurried, like she could steal just one more minute.

Emily kissed back, just as slow. Her hands smoothed around to JJ’s back, anchoring her there. The kiss deepened without meaning to. Or maybe it did. JJ shifted closer. Emily’s fingers flexed. It was quiet and warm and way too much. JJ’s hand slipped into Emily’s hair.

Emily pulled back a fraction, breath just brushing against her lips. “We should stop.”

JJ didn’t move. “Should we?”

Emily’s forehead rested against hers. “Before we start something I’ll have to finish.”

JJ smiled. “Fair.”

She didn’t move right away. Neither did Emily.

JJ closed her eyes for a second. Her voice was barely a murmur. “I really don’t want to go.”

Emily’s arms stayed around her. “You’ll be back.” It wasn’t a question. Just a quiet truth.

JJ just nodded against Emily's forehead.

Emily moved slower after JJ left.

Not because she was running late, but because the apartment felt different with the door closed behind JJ. Quieter. A little too still. She padded into the kitchen and opened a cabinet labeled "Dry but Hot", smiling faintly when the oven mitts stared back at her. She left it open.

The mug JJ bought sat drying on the rack. Emily didn’t move it. Just brushed a finger across the handle and reached for a plain one instead. It didn’t taste like the same coffee.

She showered. Got dressed. Packed her go bag with the usual mechanical precision. It was nothing new, nothing hard. But the quiet felt heavier this time. Like the echo of something sweet she wasn’t quite ready to leave behind.

There were pieces of JJ all over the apartment. A hoodie on the back of a chair. That ridiculous cookbook with half a post-it stuck to the front. A sock on the bathroom floor that definitely wasn’t hers. Emily should’ve folded the clothes, cleaned up the mess, started Monday like she always did.

Instead, she stood in the bedroom doorway for a minute longer than necessary, staring at the bed. The sheets were still rumpled from JJ crawling out of them. Emily didn’t smooth them out.

On the drive in, she queued up JJ’s weird playlist from Friday, the one she’d teased her for. The one they’d listened to while making dinner and arguing about garlic. She didn’t skip a single track. It had only been a weekend. Two and a half days, technically. But it felt like something had shifted. Quietly. Permanently.

She’d known it was different while it was happening. But knowing didn’t make it any easier to let go.

Traffic was light. Her commute, quiet. She parked in the same spot. Walked the same hall. Flashed her badge and stepped into the bullpen like it was any other Monday. And it was. Technically.

Except it wasn’t. Not entirely.

JJ wasn’t there yet. Neither was Garcia. Reid looked half-asleep. Morgan had earbuds in. No one noticed anything different about her, which made sense, nothing was, visibly. But Emily felt the weekend in her bones. In the stretch of her shoulders. In the phantom weight of a hand on her back that wasn’t there now.

She sat at her desk. Booted up her monitor. Opened a report. Didn’t read a word of it. And then...footsteps. She didn’t turn. Not until she heard JJ’s voice. Easy. Professional.

Emily glanced up.

JJ looked immaculate. Pressed blouse. Neatly knotted ponytail. Coffee in one hand, file in the other. She greeted Reid with a soft morning, gave Morgan a small smirk when he teased her about being later than normal, and handed Garcia a flash drive like it was classified gold.

Then she passed Emily without pause. No eye contact. No brush of fingers. No soft expression held a beat too long. Just: “Morning, Prentiss.”

Not Emily.

Prentiss.

Emily blinked. Actually blinked. Like she'd been physically jarred. It was the right tone, the right rhythm. Perfectly polite and professional. It felt like a slap.

She nodded, muted. “Morning.”

And then JJ was gone, slipping into the conference room like she belonged there more than anywhere else. Which, Emily reminded herself, she did.  Still, she didn’t move.

She sat in the shell of the morning they’d shared, her coffee cooling beside her, and tried to wrap her mind around the divide. Not cold. Not cruel. Just…careful. Like JJ had folded herself back up.

The conference room door clicked. Emily stood on instinct, followed in behind Morgan and Reid. She sat where she always did, but it felt off. JJ stood at the front. Professional. Steady. Emily barely registered the opening lines of the case. Something about bodies found in Nevada.

JJ was going over timelines, victim profiles. Her voice was measured, confident.

Emily heard every word, but it took a few seconds too long to process any of it. Her brain kept looping JJ’s laugh from the night before, the soft scratch of her voice in the dark, the way she stole Emily’s hoodie and sprawled across the bed like she’d always belonged there.

Now JJ didn’t look at her once. The briefing wrapped, chairs scraped back, and Emily stood a beat too fast. She muttered something about needing to check in with Garcia and slipped out before anyone could notice the catch in her breath. She spent longer than necessary in the bathroom. Just standing. Breathing. Trying to shake the feeling that someone had yanked a warm blanket off her shoulders and left her blinking in fluorescent light.

By the time she got back to her desk, the bullpen had thinned. Reid and Morgan were gathering go bags, Hotch was already on the phone, and JJ...

JJ was nowhere nearby.

But there, on her desk, sat a travel mug. Plain black. BAU standard. The kind that could belong to anyone. Except it wasn’t there before. She stared for a moment, confused, until she noticed the Sharpie balanced perfectly on top. She blinked. Tilted the mug slightly. And there, written across the bottom in intentionally chaotic handwriting: This one’s safe. I think.

Emily huffed out a laugh before she could stop it. Not loud, just soft and breathless. Her fingers curled around the mug like it meant something more. Because it did.

Emily gathered her things with practiced ease, forcing her hands not to tremble. She slung her bag over one shoulder, coffee mug in hand, and stepped into the elevator just as the doors started to slide shut. She turned, more out of habit than thought.

And there, across the bullpen, JJ was watching her. Not openly. Not in a way anyone else would notice. She stood angled slightly toward Reid, mid-conversation. But her eyes were locked on Emily. Quiet and steady. There was no smirk. No grin. Just that softness. That weekend softness. The kind that said I remember. That said we’re still us, even if the rest of the world didn’t get to see it.

And in that glance, just long enough to be stolen, Emily saw her. Not the JJ who handed out files and stood at the head of a briefing room. The woman beside her yesterday had worn a stolen hoodie and stolen her breath. She’d eaten pancakes with her fingers, labeled drawers like a menace, and curled up in bed like she’d always belonged there. This one had her badge clipped straight and didn’t look back.

But just before the elevator doors closed, she did. A flicker of a smile. So small it barely registered. But it was there. And it was just for Emily. She didn’t wave. Didn’t nod. Just met JJ’s gaze and let it sit there, warm between them.

Then the doors slid closed.

Emily looked down at the mug in her hand, thumb brushing the bottom where the message was scrawled in Sharpie. A laugh caught in her throat. Not loud. Not bitter. Just soft and real.

It wasn’t much. Just five words. But it was enough.

Chapter Text

Emily felt the turbulence before she noticed the sky.

The plane shifted slightly under her boots, a subtle dip that didn’t bother anyone else on board. Morgan was asleep with his arms crossed. Reid had a book open and was three pages past where he stopped reading. Hotch was typing.

Emily just stared out the window. The clouds were thick below them. Pale gray, soft like smoke. Her travel mug sat untouched on the tray in front of her.

She wasn’t thinking about the case yet. Not really. She would. But not yet. Her thumb brushed the bottom of the mug again. This one’s safe. I think. The ink was already smudging. She’d flipped it over too many times.

She knew it was stupid, how much that one line mattered. How it lived between her fingers like a secret. Like a kept promise.

She looked out the window again. And then, almost without thinking, pulled out her phone and typed:

Not poisoned. Disappointed, honestly.

She stared at it. Then hit send. The reply came less than a minute later.

I panicked and chose sentiment instead of cyanide.

Emily snorted under her breath. She turned the mug around again. Let it settle in her hands.

You at the office? (She couldn't resist.)

A minute later, a picture came through. There are...so many pins on this map. So many. If I sneeze, Quantico might collapse.

Emily chuckled. Try not to sneeze, then.

She could practically hear JJ's scoff. I’m a professional. I would never sneeze on federal property.

Emily didn’t answer the last text. She didn’t need to. Just tucked the phone into her pocket, settled deeper into the seat and thought about the case.

They landed mid-afternoon. The air was dry. The case picked up immediately. Emily followed leads, took notes, interviewed Jane. Helped where she could. In the back of her mind, JJ lingered. Not loud. Not distracting. Just...constant.

A text buzzed through while she stood outside a small-town precinct waiting for Hotch. We found six more cases with matching signatures. Garcia’s threatening to pin string directly to my forehead.

Emily smiled before she meant to. Texted back: Tell her to go easy on the forehead. It's your best asset.

JJ sent a photo of herself from about half her eyes up. Agreed. Emily stared too long at the photo. By the time she put her phone in her pocket, she was sure JJ was smiling that dopey smile she had when she was trying to rile Emily up and not hiding it one bit.

Back at the motel, the silence stretched out again. Unfamiliar bed. Dim lamp. Her bag by the door, untouched. She showered. Dressed. Moved around the room like she’d been there before. And then, finally, sat on the edge of the bed, thumb drifting over her phone.

She didn’t need anything. Not really. She just…wanted to hear her voice. Not a picture. Not a joke. Just JJ. Just the sound of her.

She stared at the contact screen for too long. Would it be too much? She didn’t think so. But maybe JJ would. Maybe this was fast. Too fast. Even if it didn’t feel like it.

Because she didn’t miss JJ like she was lovesick. She missed her like gravity. Like breath. Like she’d built something fragile and was scared to ask if it was real.

Emily swallowed. Pressed her thumb against the phone screen. Let it glow in her palm. Still didn’t type.

She let the phone drop beside her on the bed...and definitely didn't scramble to find it when it started buzzing with an incoming call. JJ's incoming call.

Emily stared at it for half a second too long before answering. “Hey.”

“Finally.” JJ’s voice was warm. Light. Like nothing had happened and everything had.

Emily’s lips curved. “Finally what?” She laid back into the pillows. They felt significantly more comfortable than they had thirty seconds ago.

“You didn’t text. You didn’t call. I got tired of waiting.”

Emily let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “So you decided to be the emotionally mature one?”

“I know,” JJ said. “Terrifying.”

Emily lay back on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Her voice softened. “I was going to.”

“I know that too.” A beat. “But pretending I wasn’t watching my phone started to feel exhausting.”

Emily smiled. “So you gave up.”

“I adjusted strategy.” Their silence stretched a moment, soft and easy.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked finally.

“Drinking cold coffee, while making new coffee. Garcia's having a truly operatic meltdown over pinboard spacing.”

Emily closed her eyes. “Sounds violent.”

JJ hummed. “It is. That's why I'm making coffee. It's safer. We lost a string.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Emily could hear the smile in her voice. Could feel it, like sunlight over the line. "She’s threatening to string me up next."

Emily smiled without meaning to. “You do have a forehead for mapping.”

A beat. “I’m hanging up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” The smile in her voice deepened. “You sound tired.”

Emily let her eyes drift closed. “I am.”

“But not in a bad way.”

Emily hummed, low. “No. Not in a bad way.”

Silence again, barely a beat, but full of something. JJ didn’t rush to fill it, and Emily let that quiet stretch just a little longer than she usually allowed herself. Then softly, “You’re wearing the sweatshirt, aren’t you.”

A pause. Then: “You can’t prove that.”

“I can hear the mustard piping.”

JJ made a soft, scandalized noise. “That piping is vintage. Historic.”

“That piping is a hate crime.”

JJ’s voice dropped a bit, warm and drowsy. “You’re not getting it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

A quiet breath over the line. Not quite a sigh. More like settling.

JJ spoke again, quieter now. “This is nice.”

Emily nodded against the pillow. “Yeah.”

Another pause. Then: “I miss you.”

Emily swallowed once, steady. “I know. I didn’t think I would. Not like this.”

“I didn’t either.” She could hear JJ’s fingers fidgeting over the mic. Then, very softly: “I guess this is the part where I tell you not to get murdered.”

Emily blinked. Smiled faintly. “Is that your version of ‘come home safe’?”

JJ exhaled, light but unconvincing. “I’m workshopping it.”

Emily turned toward the sound of her voice, even through the phone. “It needs editing.”

A pause. Then JJ’s voice, quieter, the edge of a joke fading. “Just…be safe, okay?”

Emily’s chest ached a little. She didn’t tease. Just murmured, “I will.”

JJ didn’t respond right away. Then, gently: “Okay. Good.”

The line stayed quiet for another few seconds, neither of them rushing to hang up. Emily let her eyes fall closed. Her thumb brushed the edge of the phone. Eventually, JJ whispered, “Go to sleep, Prentiss.”

Emily smiled faintly. “Bossy.” But she didn’t argue.

They stayed like that for one more breath, then JJ hung up. Emily set the phone on the pillow beside her and rolled onto her side, facing it like it might keep her warm. The motel room was too cold. The blanket was thin. But the ache in her chest had settled into something softer now. Something she could carry.

She fell asleep like that. Quietly. And then...

The knock came hard. Loud. One of those sharp, urgent raps that wasn’t meant to wait. Emily bolted upright, heartbeat already spiking, hand reaching instinctively for her holster. She crossed the room and opened the door.

It was Hotch. Fully dressed, jaw tight. “The Sheriff is missing."

The day blurred. Emily kept moving. Not because she had answers, but because movement felt like momentum. And momentum felt like control.

They found the Sheriff before dusk. Cold, but alive. In a coffin. In a kill room. One she wasn't prepared for, even though they'd profiled it to a T.

The rest moved fast. Radio chatter. Negotiations. Gideon with a plan no one understood until it was already happening. And then...Frank walked out of the diner.

Just walked out. Uncuffed. Unbothered. Jane followed him like she didn’t know what he was. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Emily stood in the dirt, staring down at a set of tire tracks she knew wouldn’t help. She couldn't stop thinking about Jane’s face. How soft it had gone when she saw him. How she’d smiled like she was being rescued. Emily’s jaw clenched. She didn’t move.

It was one thing to lose Frank. It was another to let Jane go with him. He's gonna kill her. And we let her go with him.

She told herself it was strategy. That they saved more lives this way. And they had. A bus full of kids would sleep in their beds tonight, unharmed.

But the pit in her stomach stayed exactly where it was. She didn't say a word.

They closed up what they could. Statements. Reports. Evidence bagged and logged. The motel emptied in silence. Emily moved through the motions on autopilot. No one said much, not even Morgan, who usually had something dry and grounding for the end of a case.

The plane home was quiet. No debrief, no banter. Just exhaustion. Emily sat by the window again but didn’t bother watching the clouds this time. There wasn’t enough light to see them anyway.

Hotch dismissed them as soon as they landed. “Briefing in the morning,” he said, voice low but even. “Get some rest.”

Emily nodded. Slung her go bag over her shoulder and headed out into the parking lot. JJ’s car wasn’t there. She slowed instinctively. Checked again. Still not there.

Emily drove home with the radio off. The garage was quiet when she pulled in. She parked. Leaned against the elevator wall like it was the only thing holding her up. Her keys were already in her hand by the time she stepped out onto her floor.

And then stopped. JJ was sitting on the ground. Right outside her apartment. Back against the wall, legs stretched out, hoodie sleeves pulled down past her wrists. Eyes closed.

Emily blinked. “Breaking and entering? Again?”

JJ shrugged. Unfazed. Eyes still closed.  “It’s only breaking. I didn’t get past the door.”

Emily huffed, dropped her bag, and leaned against the wall beside her. “How long have you been out here?”

JJ made a face. “Long enough that the neighbour across the hall offered me soup.”

Emily snorted. “I like her.”

“She said it had lentils in it.”

Emily winced. “I take it back.”

JJ finally looked at her then. Really looked. “You okay?”

Emily didn’t answer right away. Just unlocked the door, nudged it open, set her bag down, and held both hands out for JJ. “Come in before someone else offers you soup.”

JJ didn’t move at first. Just searched her face a beat longer. The line of her jaw. The tension behind her eyes. Whatever she saw there made her hesitate, but she let Emily pull her to her feet and followed her in like she belonged there.

“You don’t have to be,” she said quietly. “Okay, I mean. Not with me.”

Emily’s chest pulled tight. She didn’t answer. Just stepped closer and reached for JJ’s coat, like movement could carry what words couldn’t. JJ let her. Didn’t resist as Emily eased the sleeves off, slow and careful. Her fingers paused at the hem, then drifted upward, brushing beneath JJ’s eye with more gentleness than she meant to show. “You look tired,” Emily murmured. The words barely made it out.

JJ leaned into the touch like she’d been waiting for it all day. “I fell asleep on a stack of case files last night.” That made Emily blink. A stack of case files. She could picture it, JJ surrounded by maps and pins and names that blurred together. Still trying to make sense of things when everyone else had gone home. JJ shrugged one shoulder, like the confession wasn’t worth much. “Too many pins. Too many cities. I was trying to map the whole thing and just…stopped.” She let out a quiet breath. “Didn’t feel like going home.”

Emily’s fingers hovered. She didn’t say anything. Not yet. She didn’t want to weigh the moment down. Then JJ looked at her. Really looked. Like she already knew the answer but needed to ask anyway. “And you?” she asked, softer. “Are you okay?”

Emily hesitated. The image came back too easily. Jane’s face softening like rescue, like love, like trust in the worst possible hands. But this wasn’t the time. And JJ had already carried enough of the weekend on her own back.

“I’m fine,” Emily said, and she didn’t know if it was a lie or not. Just knew it was the only thing she could offer without cracking open something heavier. I really will be fine.

JJ held her gaze for a second. Then nodded. Just once. Like she knew not to press. Then she stepped past her, walked toward the couch, and dropped face-first into it with a muffled groan.

Emily watched her for a second. JJ’s arm dangled off the side of the cushion. Her hair was a mess. She looked like she might dissolve into the upholstery and stay there forever.

Emily huffed a laugh. “I’m going to microwave a hot dog,” she said, already turning toward the kitchen. “Do you want one?”

JJ mumbled something incoherent into the upholstery.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

JJ lazily raised a single thumb in the air.

Emily set about assembling their sad dinner. The buns still seemed fresh enough, miraculously. She set a couple hotdogs on a plate then paused. The little turd is probably going to try to steal some of mine. She added more.

As the microwave door clicked shut, a muffled groan shifted into something louder, followed by a soft thump.

Emily craned her neck to look. Jennifer, still facedown, was now using her face to slowly push herself upright. A low-grade effort at best.

Emily snorted. "I could’ve brought it to you, you know."

JJ made a low noise, something between a grunt and a scoff, as she peeled herself off the couch cushion. “You’d do it wrong,” she muttered, trudging toward the kitchen like someone who’d been personally victimized by gravity.

Emily raised an eyebrow, amused. “It’s a hot dog, Jennifer. Unless I launch it out of the microwave like a missile, I’m pretty sure there’s a low margin for error.”

"Shh. Shhh." JJ waved her off as she opened the fridge. She rummaged for a bit, then emerged with a jar of pickles and another of olives. JJ set up a small cutting board and pulled an alarming amount of olives out of the jar.

“You know I don’t like olives, right?” She does. That's why JJ had to buy that jar at the market.

“I know.” JJ yawned.

Emily just shook her head and turned back to check the microwave. She placed the hot dogs into buns, set them on plates, then turned, only to freeze.

JJ was focused. She’d chopped no fewer than three pickles into coin-sized pieces. An entire mountain of olives had been diced with suspicious precision. Emily watched in silent horror as JJ loaded every last pickle onto her hot dog, then, somehow, stacked the olives on top. It defied gravity.

JJ reached for the olive jar again, hesitated, and sighed. She put the lid on instead and returned it to the fridge like a martyr.

When she turned to carry her creation into the living room, she paused. Reached out. Tapped a finger under Emily’s jaw, which had popped open somewhere around olive pile number two.

"I would have done it wrong,” Emily muttered.

JJ nodded solemnly around another yawn and carried her monstrosity away like it was art.

Emily sat there for a beat, stunned. Then, with a quiet sigh, she turned back to the fridge and pulled the jars back out.

When she joined JJ on the couch, JJ’s cheeks were full, but she paused mid-bite when she caught sight of Emily’s plate. There was one and a half hot dogs dressed the same...then there was another half loaded up with pickles and olives. Stacked just shy of JJ’s chaotic standard.

JJ stared at it. Then up at Emily.

“You split one.”

Emily gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You always steal off my plate.”

JJ blinked. Swallowed. “You did it right.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “That almost sounded like approval.”

JJ nudged her with her elbow. “Maybe just...one more olive next time.”

Emily snorted. “You’re impossible.”

JJ just smiled. Soft. A little surprised. Like maybe half a hot dog meant more than she knew how to say.

They ate in quiet for a few minutes. Gentle radio static and the occasional satisfied grunt from JJ as she dug into her other half, and stole the last bite of Emily's, were the only sounds in the room.

“Was it okay I came here?” JJ asked.

Emily blinked. “What?”

JJ finally glanced over. “After the case. Just...showing up.” She nudged a piece of olive back into place with her finger. “I probably should’ve asked.”

Emily didn’t answer right away. She studied JJ for a beat too long, then stood, grabbed both empty plates, and carried them to the kitchen. She rummaged through a drawer a little longer than necessary.

When she returned, JJ looked vaguely worried. Emily dropped onto the couch and held out her hand, palm open. A key.

JJ sat up a little straighter. “Em.”

Emily didn’t sit back down. Just held it out. “You don’t have to use it. But I wanted you to have it.”

JJ didn’t move to take it yet. Her voice stayed low. “Isn’t this...a little fast?”

Emily shrugged. No hesitation. “Definitely.” She almost smiled. “It’s not a thing. It’s just, people have spare keys. For emergencies.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, finally reaching out to take it. Her fingers brushed Emily’s. “Oh yeah. Classic emergency protocol. Soup, sadness, and chaotic hot dogs.”

Emily smirked. “All FBI-sanctioned.”

JJ looked down at the key for a second. Then tucked it into the front pocket of her hoodie without comment. She settled back against the couch. “Okay.”

Emily sat beside her again. Quiet. Close.

JJ leaned against her shoulder, soft and worn out. “Still kind of feels like a thing.”

Emily rested her cheek against JJ’s hair. “Maybe.”

JJ didn’t push. Emily didn’t explain. The silence came back, warm and familiar. The key sat quietly in JJ’s pocket. And neither of them said anything else.

Eventually, they moved. She didn’t ask if JJ was staying. Emily just checked the locks. JJ got the lights. Emily put toothpaste on JJ’s toothbrush. JJ still slept in one of Emily’s shirts. None of it was discussed. But somehow, it had started to feel like a pattern.

JJ used the key. They didn’t make it a thing.

Sometimes she was already there when Emily got home, on the couch, or perched on the kitchen counter, surrounded by half-organized case files and eating pickles straight from the jar. Sometimes she came in later, hair damp from a quick shower, fresh clothes in her go bag, already settling like she belonged.

They didn’t talk about it. There was no conversation, no agreement.

They just...slept in the same bed every night.

One night, JJ got in so late that Emily was already half-asleep, turned toward the door on instinct. She didn’t say anything. Just felt the mattress dip and JJ’s hand find her under the blanket like it always had.

At work, nothing changed. Not really. Sometimes JJ handed Emily a file with her fingers brushing just a second too long. Not long enough to notice unless you were looking for it. Emily always looked up like she hadn’t expected the contact but never pulled away.

Emily started sitting beside JJ during briefings. Not always. Not obviously. Just often enough that her coffee ended up beside JJ’s. Once, JJ passed her a pen without being asked. Once, Emily caught JJ’s cup just before it spilled.

In the bullpen, JJ stopped saying “hey” when she sat down beside her. She didn’t need to. Emily always looked up like she’d been waiting.

In the elevator, JJ stood just a little closer than necessary. Not close enough for the team to notice. But enough that Emily stopped leaning on the back wall.

One afternoon, Emily left her jacket on the back of JJ’s chair by mistake. JJ wore it the entire day. No one said a word.

Garcia once brought snacks around the bullpen. JJ declined...and a minute later, reached over to steal one off Emily’s desk without asking. Emily didn’t blink. Just nudged the plate closer.

From where Emily was sitting, the whole world had shifted, but it still looked the same from the outside.

And yet, Hotch watched JJ laugh at something Emily murmured low in the hallway, a soft kind of laugh, quiet and unguarded. He didn’t interrupt. But his eyes lingered a second longer than usual.

The week kept moving. A few days later, Morgan leaned over the edge of Emily’s desk and said, “You free tonight?”

She looked up, skeptical. “Define free.”

“I owe you a birthday drink. And Garcia’s insisting on cake shots, so really, it’s not a question.”

Emily huffed a breath. "And here I thought I’d gotten away clean."

He grinned. “First team night out. You’re not slipping past this one.”

She smirked. “Fine. One drink.”

“Famous last words.”

She watched Morgan walk off, still smirking like he’d won something. A minute later, her phone buzzed.

Morgan get to you too?

Emily glanced up, automatically, and caught JJ watching from the glass window of her office. Not obviously. Just a glance, like she happened to be facing that way. But she didn’t look away. Emily tapped out a reply.

He didn’t give much of a choice. Apparently cake shots are non-negotiable.

JJ’s response came fast. I mean, they are cake. And also shots. What’s not to like?

Emily huffed a breath through her nose. Then: I’m thirty-five.

From her office window, JJ looked up and caught her eye. The smirk came slow. That’s not a confession, Emily. That’s just math.

Emily snorted. Typed back: Pretty sure I’m too old for cake shots.

JJ’s reply came quick: Good thing I like dating older women. Built-in excuses to leave early.

Emily raised an eyebrow. Replied: You’re 27. You say that like I’m ancient.

You own coasters, Prentiss. That’s a lifestyle.

Emily glanced up. JJ was definitely not working anymore. She was biting her lip, trying not to grin. Emily shook her head, leaned back in her chair, and typed: One drink. And you’re stealing the second.

Deal. I’ll even bring a coaster. The little jerk was fully grinning now.

Emily huffed, biting back a smile. Bring two. I’ll need one for emotional support.

Her phone stayed quiet after the last message. But when she glanced up again, JJ wasn’t looking at her screen anymore. She was just watching Emily, soft-eyed and unreadable.

Emily looked away first. She didn’t smile. Not really. But she felt it settle in her chest anyway, the shape of something steady. She locked her phone. Stood. It was almost time to go.

The bar buzzed low with energy when they walked in. Dim lighting, music just loud enough to hum beneath the conversations. Morgan ordered drinks for the table. JJ took hers with a polite smile, eased into a corner near Garcia. She laughed at the right moments. Made small talk. Asked questions. Her shoulders stayed straight, her smile never quite careless but Emily noticed.

She was trying.

JJ didn’t do loud or centerstage. Not here. But she stayed close. Nudged Garcia with her shoulder once. Let Morgan tease her about refusing the “fun drinks” without snapping back too sharp. She rolled her eyes when Reid corrected a fact Morgan mentioned. None of it came easily, but she made the effort. That counted.

Emily kept to the other end of the table. They didn’t sit together. Barely looked at each other. But something pulsed quietly in the space between them. Warm. Electric, maybe. Not loud, but real.

When round two came, Emily didn’t even get her hand on the glass before JJ was there. She slid past, fingers grazing the table, and stole it without hesitation.

“Stolen,” she murmured. Then she walked off toward the dartboard.

Emily watched her go. She tried not to. Failed quietly.

The guys at the board gave JJ shit in a way they clearly thought was charming. JJ didn’t rise to it. Just lined up, eyes steady, and hit the center on her first throw. They laughed, surprised. She didn’t. Just raised an eyebrow and lined up another.

Emily didn’t look away until Haley sat down beside her. “They treating you right at the BAU?” she asked, friendly and mild.

Emily blinked. Turned just enough to meet her gaze. “Yeah,” she said. “They are.”

Haley smiled. Emily did too. But not for long. She watched as JJ pulled her phone from her back pocket. Her expression shifted, just slightly, but Emily saw it. Their eyes met across the room, and that was all it took.

The fun was over.

They regrouped at the BAU. The 911 audio played over the conference room speakers, garbled, frantic. Someone whispering about sin. About excess. About punishment. The line crackled, then cut out.

They didn’t talk much on the jet. No one had the energy. But JJ had a map out on her lap and a pen in her hand. Emily watched her quietly underline something, circle a street name. Always trying to stay ahead of it.

In Georgia, it got worse. Another body, another sin. A man dead in a house that wasn't his. A woman taken.

Eventually, JJ found her lead. Someone had reported a prowler a few months back. A man in dark clothing climbing over the wall into a property not his own. The caller had given a name: Tobias Hankel. Lived about an hour out. Hotch told JJ and Reid to check it out.

Emily didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, listening. Watching JJ slip her notes into a folder, shoulder her bag. She didn’t need backup. She didn’t need permission. But Emily’s stomach pulled tight anyway.

She wanted to say something. Be careful. Just that. Just something. But she didn’t. She wasn’t Morgan, or Hotch, or Gideon. She wasn’t going to be another voice implying JJ wasn’t capable.

JJ turned briefly on her way out, met Emily’s eyes across the room. And Emily nodded. Like it was fine. Like she believed it. Then JJ left...and the video was uploaded of the woman's murder.

She didn’t freeze. Didn’t fall apart. But her body went quiet in that way it did when everything inside her started to scream.

Tobias Hankel. The name rang like a bell she’d been waiting to hear. And not for any good reason.

“Where are they now?” she asked, calm. Too calm.

Garcia was already scrambling to trace their phones. Hotch was giving orders. Morgan was grabbing gear. Emily just stood there and counted the seconds since JJ had walked out that door.

She should’ve said something. Just something small. Be careful. Wait five minutes. Take Morgan instead.

But she hadn’t. She hadn’t wanted to be the person who didn’t trust her. Who told her to sit pretty while the real agents did the work. JJ didn’t need that. Didn’t deserve that.

Emily clenched her jaw and moved. Fast. She was the first to the SUV, already slamming the door shut before Morgan was fully inside. The tires kicked gravel. The world narrowed to flashing road signs and a cold twist behind her ribs.

They tried her phone again. Reid’s too. No answer. When they reached the property, she was out of the car before it stopped. The barn came into view.

Emily didn’t remember pulling her weapon. Just the sound of boots on dirt and the sting of her own breath in her chest as she pushed the door open.

The dogs were dead. Three of them. The air stank of blood and panic. And there...JJ. Standing. Gun still raised. Eyes wild. Screaming at them.

“JJ!” Emily said, sharp. No reaction. “JJ!” Still nothing. Her gaze kept flicking over the scene. Over blood, bodies, bone. “Jennifer,” Emily said. Firm. Low. That did it. JJ's head snapped to her. Those bright, panic-wild eyes finally landed on Emily’s.

Her hand twitched. The gun wavered. Emily was already reaching out when JJ grabbed her elbow like an anchor. “Jennifer,” she said again, quieter this time. “Where’s Reid?”

JJ’s grip on her arm tightened. Her lips parted like she was going to answer, but nothing came. She just shook her head. That was all it took.

Everything after that unraveled fast. JJ managed a report, tight and halting, about how they’d split up. How Reid went around back and never came back. How she waited. How the dogs came first.

Morgan peeled off to search. The rest of the team scrambled. Garcia was flown in to work the tech. Hankel’s house was wired like a surveillance bunker, dozens of live feeds, years of footage, rooms full of cracked open machines.

But JJ barely spoke after that. Not about what happened in the barn. Not about Reid. Not at all. Emily tried to keep her eyes off her. She failed. Every time.

JJ stayed busy, but not usefully. Her hands moved like she needed them to be doing something. Straightening folders. Shuffling evidence. Standing too long in rooms without speaking. She didn’t ask to go clean up...she just disappeared. Emily waited ten minutes. Then she followed.

She didn’t find JJ in the bathroom. Or in the kitchen. Or standing by the SUV like she sometimes did when she needed space. It took a full circuit of the house before she heard voices. Low, frayed, coming from one of the back rooms.

She paused just before the doorway.  “I thought you were resting,” Morgan's voice rang out, flat. Emily shifted closer so she could see JJ, arms crossed, eyes wide, posture stiff. Morgan was half turned away, like he didn't want to give her his full attention.

“Everyone else is working,” JJ replied. “I should be too.”  Morgan didn’t argue. Just waited. JJ’s voice was quiet. “You think this is my fault.”

A muscle in his jaw moved. He didn’t say no. “I should’ve stayed with him,” JJ said. “We weren’t sure it was safe. I said we should wait, but he just...went.” Morgan’s silence answered for him. “I was supposed to watch his back.”

Finally, Morgan spoke. Low. “And now Reid’s not here.”

JJ’s mouth opened, like maybe she had something to say. But whatever it was, she swallowed it.

“I just...” She shook her head, voice fraying at the edges. “I want someone to tell me the truth.”

Morgan didn’t soften. “Truth is, you split up. And now only one of you came back.” He stepped past her before she could reply.

JJ left the room like she was still carrying it with her. Emily let her go. Not because she wanted to, because Morgan needed to hear something JJ wouldn’t say, and Emily couldn’t leave it hanging in the air like that.

He hadn’t moved. Just stood there, braced against the back of the chair like it might hold him up if he let it. He let out a long, low breath, the kind meant to shake something loose.

Emily leaned against the doorframe. Casual, in posture only. She didn’t say anything at first. Just watched him. He didn’t notice her until he turned. When he did, his expression barely shifted, like he didn’t have the energy to put up a front.

He let out a tired breath. “What?”

“You really want to hear it?”

He gave a dry, humourless huff. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Emily shrugged. “You’re using her as a scapegoat.”

His brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You said you wanted to hear it.”

Morgan didn’t reply. Just stared. Daring her.

She pushed off the doorframe, stepped in. Calm. Even.

“They never should’ve split up,” she said. “But Reid’s the profiler. Technically the senior agent. He had authority out there. He made the call.”

Morgan looked away, jaw tense.

“She said wait for backup. He didn’t. And now he’s gone, and she’s the one you're looking at like she failed.”

“She’s not a rookie,” Morgan said. “She could’ve-”

“She tried.” Emily’s tone sharpened. “And now she’s standing in the wreckage of a decision she didn’t make, carrying all of the weight because you can’t look at Reid and be angry with him. So you’re putting it on her.”

Morgan’s jaw worked, but he didn’t speak.

“And…if the roles were reversed,” Emily said, quieter now, “you'd still blame her.”

Morgan didn’t answer.

Emily nodded once. “Just think about that.”

She left him standing there. Didn’t say another word. Just listened to the part of her that was starting to always point toward JJ.

The hallway was dim. Quiet. The door was wide open. JJ was at the sink, hunched over slightly, bracing herself with both hands. Her jacket was gone. Her sleeves pushed back. Emily could see a fresh bandage wrapped tight around her forearm. The sink basin was mostly clean now, just a few rust-pink smears trailing along the porcelain edge. JJ’s shoulders moved like she was breathing too shallowly, or not at all.

She was staring at her own reflection like it might flinch first. Emily didn’t knock. Didn’t call her name. She just stepped into the doorway. And that’s when JJ reached for the gun.

Emily’s heart jumped to her throat. “Hey, hey, hey. JJ. It’s me.”

The barrel didn’t raise all the way. JJ froze mid-motion, eyes wild, locked on Emily like she couldn’t quite place her at first. Then something clicked.

“Oh, God.” Her voice broke around the words. She lowered the gun, slowly, like she realized what she’d almost done half a second too late. “I’m sorry. You scared me. I’m...fine. It’s nothing.”

She turned back to the mirror. Braced her hands on the sink. Emily could see the tremble in her arms.

“You’re not fine,” Emily said gently. “You don’t have to be.”

JJ didn’t look at her. Just kept her eyes on her reflection, like she was still waiting for something to crawl back out of it.

Emily stepped closer, slow. “Come with me tomorrow. I’m meeting a guy who used to sponsor Henkel in NA. You don’t need to do this alone.”

JJ’s mouth pulled tight. “You want me out of the house?”

Emily didn’t answer right away. Her voice was careful when she did. “I want you anywhere that isn’t in here, seeing what you’re seeing. Even just for a minute.”

That seemed to land. JJ nodded once. Absently.

A beat passed. Then: “How come this doesn’t get to you?”

Emily blinked. “What?”

“This.” JJ’s hand swept vaguely toward the door, the barn, the blood still drying under her fingernails. “The dogs. The bodies. Sometimes you walk around like none of this touches you.”

Emily opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “I guess…I compartmentalize better than most people.”

JJ looked like she might ask more, but then her gaze shifted. Past Emily.

Emily turned slightly and caught it too: Hotch, just beyond the doorway. He wasn’t close enough to overhear the whole conversation, but he was watching them. Not intrusively. Just there. Present. Listening. Waiting.

JJ didn’t flinch. Didn’t stiffen. But she didn’t ask her follow-up, either. She just nodded. "I’ll be ready in the morning."

Morning wasn’t far. Emily watched as JJ grabbed a set of keys to the SUVs, maybe to rest, maybe just to move. Either way, she didn’t stop her.

JJ didn’t ask to drive. Emily didn’t offer.

The morning was gray, flat with mist, the kind of cold that clung even with the heat turned on. JJ slid into the passenger seat, wincing as she moved. Emily watched her settle in, slow movements and a tension she didn’t try to hide.

They’d been driving in silence for a while. Not tense, exactly. But not relaxed either. The kind of silence where one wrong breath could tip it all sideways.

JJ stared out the window, her arm curled against the door, the bandage on her forearm still visible beneath her rolled sleeve. Emily kept one hand on the wheel. Didn’t glance over. Didn’t need to. She could feel it in the air between them. JJ’s head too full, her muscles still coiled too tight.

So Emily offered it, soft and quiet. “Did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”

JJ didn’t react right away. Then her head turned, just slightly. “What?”

“They get lonely. So the law says you have to adopt them in pairs.”

JJ blinked. Turned toward her just enough for Emily to catch the edge of a raised brow. “That’s...surprisingly wholesome.”

Emily shrugged with her mouth, eyes on the road. “Figured we could use a fun fact.”

JJ was quiet again, but it wasn’t the same kind of quiet. This one had the corners softened. She could feel JJ frozen, staring at Emily. After a minute, she shifted, leaning just slightly toward the center console, close enough that Emily could feel her, but not quite touching.

And for a second, just a second, Emily let herself believe that maybe this was enough. Maybe the silence was safe now. Maybe JJ could breathe again.

But then JJ said, very quietly, “You lied to me.”

Emily’s hands stayed on the wheel. “What?”

JJ didn’t backpedal. Didn’t hesitate. “Your file says you came from the Midwest.” Emily's grip flexed. Then JJ tugged gently at her elbow. Emily didn’t resist. JJ took her hand and started tracing the lines of her palm, slow and methodical. “Says you worked desk jobs. But that doesn’t make sense.”

Emily swallowed. Hard. The road blurred at the edges.

JJ kept going. “You told me you’d been out of the country for the last decade.” She flipped Emily’s hand over, fingers brushing the back. “You don’t flinch. Not at blood. Not at bodies. Not even when the air smells like death. You talk to survivors like you’ve been one. And you move like someone who’s spent a long time looking over her shoulder.”

Emily didn’t answer. She couldn’t. JJ wasn’t raising her voice. Wasn’t angry. That was what made it worse. After a moment, JJ’s thumb paused at the base of her wrist. “I don’t need you to tell me everything,” she said quietly. “I know whatever it was, it’s above my pay grade.”

Emily’s jaw tensed. She kept her eyes on the road.

JJ didn’t let go. “I know you probably have to lie about it. Maybe even to me.” Her voice was soft, not accusing, just honest. “But I don’t like it.”

Emily’s throat ached. She turned her hand slightly, like she meant to pull away but didn’t.

JJ traced one more line across her palm. “Not with you.” That landed. Not with you.

She didn’t say anything else after that. Just let her fingers tangle with Emily’s. Still, quiet. Like that was enough.

By the time they got back, JJ looked steadier. Shoulders squared. Voice level. The version of herself the team was used to. Emily stayed close, but didn’t hover.

The rest moved fast. Files. Footage. Scrubbed timelines.

The video played. Reid, bloodied, trembling. Forced to choose.

He said Hotch...who didn’t flinch. “It was a message.” Then: “Everyone. One of my weaknesses.”

JJ and Morgan reluctantly muttered something. Emily didn't hesitate.

“You don’t trust women as much as men.”

Morgan looked at her. And this time, he didn’t flinch. Just nodded once, like her words from before had finally landed.

They didn’t dwell on it. There wasn’t time.

They kept digging. Reid had slipped a clue into one of the videos, something about poachers. Garcia found a report from a nearby farm about livestock gone missing. Emily pulled one of Tobias’s journals, followed a name buried deep.

It led them to a cemetery. Quiet. Remote. That’s where they found him. Out back. Next to a half-dug grave and a dead Tobias Hankel.

JJ was the first one to hug him. No one expected her to grab him the way she did. Fast, fierce, like something in her had snapped loose. She pulled him in without hesitation, arms wrapped tight around him like she needed to anchor them both. Reid didn’t fight it. Just folded into her like he’d been waiting for that exact kind of gravity.

As they packed up to leave, Morgan passed her in the hallway. He didn’t stop. Just caught her eye and said, low, “Hey.”

JJ looked over. Met his gaze. A beat passed. Then he nodded. Small, almost imperceptible. Regret in it. JJ gave the faintest nod back. Nothing else. But it was enough.

The jet hummed low beneath them. A soft, constant sound. Not unlike silence.

Emily sat with one hand curled around a cup of cooling coffee she had no intention of drinking. Across the aisle, Morgan had his eyes closed. Garcia was curled up against the window, knees drawn to her chest. Reid was still out cold, his blanket slipping sideways as the plane cut through turbulence. Gideon adjusted it gently. Said nothing.

JJ was beside her. Close, but not quite leaning. Not asleep. Not stiff, either.

Her shoulder hovered a few inches from Emily’s. Every now and then, the plane would shift, and their arms would touch. JJ never moved away. Emily didn’t either.

She hadn’t spoken since they took off. Just sat there; quiet, steady, present in that strange, deliberate way she had when she was holding herself together on purpose.

Emily didn’t look directly at her. She didn’t need to. JJ’s presence had settled into her awareness like breath. Constant. Steady. Heavy in a way that wasn’t burdensome, just real.

Across the cabin, Hotch looked up from his notes. Emily saw it, the glance toward JJ, then toward her. Not probing. Not disapproving. Just…curious. Watching the space between them like it meant something. Maybe it did.

He didn’t say anything. Just looked back down.

Emily closed her eyes for a moment. Felt the weight of JJ beside her. Let it hold.

When the wheels touched down, no one said much. Just the usual shuffle, bags slung over shoulders, jackets pulled from overhead compartments. The ritual of motion.

Reid blinked awake slowly, like his body hadn’t caught up with the fact that it was over. Gideon rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take him.”

Reid didn’t argue. Just nodded, dazed. Morgan gave a quiet nod, trailing them off the jet.

JJ stayed in her seat.

Emily paused a few steps away. Watched her for a second, the way her fingers gripped the edge of the cushion. The way her eyes didn’t follow Reid, or Gideon, or anyone.

Emily adjusted the strap on her bag. Kept her voice level. “Want me to take you home?”

JJ looked up. It wasn’t a dramatic moment. No pause, no sigh. Just a second where something shifted behind her eyes. Like the word landed somewhere deeper than expected.

Then, a soft nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

Emily didn’t show anything. Just returned the nod and started walking. But the word stuck with her. Home. She hadn’t meant to say it like that. Not out loud. And yet…maybe she had.

She didn’t realize Hotch was watching until they passed him on the tarmac. He didn’t speak. Just gave her a small, unreadable look as JJ fell into step beside her, quiet, steady, like she’d always been meant to walk that way.

Emily didn’t flinch. Didn’t stop. Hotch looked away first.

They didn’t say much on the way up to Emily’s apartment. JJ carried the takeout, Emily fumbled for her keys like her hands weren’t quite listening. The hallway light flickered once as they stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind them.

JJ toed off her boots near the wall. Emily locked the deadbolt. Neither of them turned on more than one light.

The apartment was quiet. Familiar. The kind of quiet that didn’t need filling.

JJ set the takeout down on the counter and didn’t move. Just rested her hand on the top of the bag like she might need a moment to remember what came next.

Emily stepped up beside her. “You forget how dinner works?”

JJ didn’t open her eyes. “Step one is standing here. Step two...unclear.”

Emily gently nudged the bag open. “You’re halfway there.”

JJ cracked a faint smile. “Look at me go.”

Emily handed her a container. Their fingers brushed. “Gold star,” Emily said, soft.

They ate slowly, cross-legged on the couch, takeout cartons balanced on their knees. The TV was on but muted, a flicker of light across the walls, nothing either of them really watched.

At some point, JJ leaned her head back against the cushion and let her eyes fall closed between bites. Emily didn’t say anything. Just reached over and took the container from her hands before it could slip. They sat in that silence a while. Not heavy. Just real.

Eventually, Emily stood and stretched. Her body ached in places she hadn’t noticed before; joints stiff, ribs tight, like the adrenaline was finally leaving her bones. She turned toward JJ. “Come on. Let me check your arm.” She held her hands out for JJ to take.

JJ blinked like she’d forgotten about it. “It’s fine.” But she took Emily's hands anyway and let herself be pulled up. And Emily tried not to show how much that mattered.

“You got bit by a dog, Jennifer. And not, like, a clean one."

Emily didn’t let go of JJ’s hands right away. Just stepped back, guiding her down the hall with a quiet sort of certainty. JJ followed without speaking, socked feet nearly silent on the hardwood.

The bathroom light was soft, just the over-sink bulb. Warm. Dim. Emily opened the cabinet, pulled out the first aid kit with one hand while the other hovered briefly at JJ’s lower back. Not a touch, exactly. Just presence.

JJ sat on the closed toilet lid. Rolled up her sleeve without being asked.

Emily knelt in front of her, motion smooth but deliberate, like she’d done it a thousand times before. She started peeling back the bandage with careful fingers, slow and steady.

JJ watched her.

Emily didn’t speak. Just opened the antiseptic and dabbed it carefully with the kind of gentleness she never let anyone see.

Her hands shook. Not much. But enough. JJ noticed. Emily could feel it the way JJ stopped watching the bandage and started watching her instead.

Emily didn’t look up. Just focused on the tape. Steadying it. Pressing the edges down like they mattered more than anything else in the world.

A beat passed. Then, quiet...too quiet, “When they said it was Tobias…”

JJ didn’t respond. Not out loud. But Emily could feel her eyes on her.

She swallowed. Pressed the tape down too fast. “I couldn’t reach you.” Another breath. “And I just...I was really scared.”

No answer. No questions. Just that steady gaze. Emily sat back, exhaling slowly like maybe that would be the end of it. She started repacking the kit. Then JJ stood.

Then JJ stood.

Emily frowned slightly, still kneeling. “What-?”

But JJ was already reaching for her hand. No explanation. No hesitation. Just that soft pull. She turned on the shower. Steam rose quickly, fogging the mirror.

She didn’t speak. Just turned and started unbuttoning Emily’s shirt. One at a time. Quiet. Unrushed. Like a ritual, not a request.

Emily let her.

She reached up when JJ pulled her own top off, their fingers brushing just slightly in the space between. Neither of them said a word. The water was hot. They stepped in together.

JJ’s hands found her waist, steady. Emily pressed her forehead to JJ’s shoulder. Water streamed down around them, soaking hair, easing muscles, softening the edge of something sharp.

JJ’s fingers threaded into her hair, slow and steady. Not pulling. Just holding. Emily didn’t cry. But something cracked open anyway; quiet, tired, and full of breath.

JJ kissed her temple. Not urgent. Not asking. Just there. Emily let herself be pulled closer. Let herself lean. Let herself stay.

There were no declarations. No confessions. Just water and warmth and skin and breath. Just JJ’s arms around her. And the slow, careful promise of here. still. okay.

They stayed in silence longer than it felt. Just holding each other. Their feet were pruning, cheeks puffy from the heat.

Eventually they peeled away. They towelled off in the soft light of the bathroom, steam still clinging to the mirror. The air between them stayed quiet. Settled.

Emily retrieved the first aid kit again, and JJ sat wordlessly on the edge of the tub while Emily re-dressed her arm. The gauze clung a little from the water, but Emily didn’t rush. Just rewound it with steady fingers, same as before. JJ watched her the whole time.

When it was done, Emily brushed her thumb gently along the tape, not checking the seal, not really. Just being there. Neither of them said it aloud, but when they walked toward the bedroom, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

They didn’t talk while they got into bed. It wasn’t awkward. Just…quiet. Like everything that needed to be said was already humming under the surface.

JJ climbed in first and curled toward the far side, leaving space. Emily turned off the light. Slipped under the blanket. The room was dim, lit only by the streetlamp outside the window, casting slow-moving shadows across the walls.

They lay on their sides, facing each other. Close enough to feel the heat between them, but not quite touching.

JJ’s eyes were open. Emily’s were too.

She exhaled, steady. "Interpol." JJ didn’t react. Just blinked once. Waiting. "There’s a lot I can’t tell you. But…I worked undercover. All over the world. My whole career has been undercover." Emily shifted slightly. "Some went okay, some went...not okay"

Still nothing from JJ. No surprise. No push.

So Emily kept going. Quietly. "It's not that it doesn't get to me. I just have a lot of experience with pushing everything to the side to get through the job."

There was a pause. Not long. Just enough for it to settle. Then JJ shifted forward. Just a little. Close enough for her fingers to brush Emily’s wrist under the blanket. Not holding. Just there.

She didn’t speak right away.

Then, softer: “You said you were surprised I didn’t leave that morning.”

Emily didn’t move. Just watched her. Waiting.

JJ’s eyes didn’t waver. “The night after we… I mean, I woke up, and I didn’t know what to do. Everything felt different. I felt different.” A breath. “But going home didn’t even cross my mind.”

Her voice stayed low, almost uncertain. But honest. “I think being with you feels like home.”

For a second, neither of them moved. Then Emily reached out slowly but sure, and pulled JJ in. All the way. One arm around her waist, the other curling behind her shoulders, like she couldn’t get her close enough.

JJ let herself be tucked in, forehead against Emily’s collarbone, breath soft and steady between them. Emily pressed a kiss into her hair. She didn’t say me too. She didn’t have to.

They stayed like that, wrapped around each other in the dark. Hearts slow and limbs tangled in the shape of something that didn’t need a name.

Chapter Text

JJ woke to warmth.

Not just body heat, though there was plenty of that, but the kind of warmth that settled into her chest, slow and steady. The kind she usually didn’t let herself notice. The kind she definitely didn’t get used to.

Emily’s arm was slung around her waist. One of her legs was hooked securely over both of JJ’s, like she was guarding a high-value asset in her sleep. JJ lay still for a second, eyes closed, letting her brain catch up to her body.

Then: “You’re awake,” Emily mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

“You always start the day with accusations?”

“I start the day with observational analysis,” Emily muttered. “You twitched.”

“Well,” JJ said, eyes still closed, “can’t have that.”

Emily shifted slightly, her forehead pressing against the back of JJ’s shoulder. “No sudden movements. You’ll wake the nesting beast.”

JJ huffed, dry. “You’re the one with your leg over both of mine.”

“That’s defensive positioning,” Emily said, sleepily. “I’m guarding the perimeter.”

“From what?”

Emily exhaled against her skin. “Unclear. Possible emotional sabotage. Also maybe your elbow.”

That earned her a snort.

JJ shifted suddenly, rolling over and taking Emily with her in a half-twist that left them tangled in a completely new configuration. Emily let out a faint, startled grunt as her back hit the mattress and JJ promptly sprawled on top of her, limbs draping with purpose.

“Jesus,” Emily muttered, voice muffled against her own arm. “Ambush much?”

JJ nuzzled under her chin. “You were unsecured. Perimeter breach was inevitable.”

Emily squinted at the ceiling. “You’re the breach.”

“Correct.” JJ yawned and settled more firmly, face pressing somewhere between Emily’s collarbone and the base of her neck. “You good down there?”

Emily shifted, a hand coming to rest automatically at JJ’s lower back. “Pretty sure I’m losing circulation in three limbs.”

“Shh,” JJ murmured, tightening her grip. “You’re fine. You’re sturdy.”

Emily let out a faint breath. Possibly a laugh. Possibly a prayer. “Is this your final form?”

“Almost.” JJ hooked one of her legs more firmly around Emily’s. “If I get a second leg around you, it’s over. You’ll never escape.”

“Terrifying.”

JJ nodded solemnly, completely deadpan. “I know.”

She didn’t move at first. Just kept her weight draped over Emily, every inch of her tangled up in the other woman like her body had decided this was its default state now. But slowly, she shifted, just enough to look down at her. To see her. Really see her.

Emily’s eyes were half-lidded, her mouth soft, her breathing steady. JJ watched her for a beat too long.

Then she brought her hand up, thumb brushing lightly across Emily’s cheek. Just once. Just to do it.

Emily’s voice came quiet. “What’re you doing?”

JJ didn’t have an answer, not really. She let her fingertips trail down Emily’s jaw, slow and soft, like she was tracing the outline of a thought she didn’t want to say out loud. “Just…taking inventory.”

Emily blinked, sleepy amusement flickering across her face. “Of what?”

JJ shrugged. “All your good parts.”

Emily’s mouth twitched. “That’s suspiciously vague.”

“Yeah, well.” JJ let her thumb sweep under her jaw again. “The list’s long.”

There was a pause, the kind that didn’t feel like waiting. Just breathing. JJ shifted closer, resting her forehead against Emily’s. Their noses bumped. Her hand slid into Emily’s hair, slow and sure.

“You okay?” she asked, barely more than a breath.

Emily nodded under her. “Right now? Definitely.”

JJ kissed the edge of her eyebrow. Just because. Then her cheek. Then the tip of her nose, which made Emily wrinkle it slightly in protest, but she didn’t move. Didn’t pull away.

JJ smiled. Not the usual sharp one she wore around other people. This one was quieter. Almost shy.

Emily’s hand slipped under her shirt again, palm warm and grounding at her back. She wasn’t pulling. Just holding. JJ melted into it without meaning to. Her mouth brushed Emily’s temple.

“You gonna release me,” Emily mumbled, “or is this just how I live now?”

JJ smiled against her neck. “Not my fault you’re comfortable.”

Emily’s hand pressed a little firmer at her back. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, quiet and close. JJ let her hands wander absently over Emily’s skin. The slope of her shoulder. The line of her ribs. Familiar, but never boring. Always hers in a way that made her heart ache a little.

Then JJ mumbled, “I need to go to my apartment today.” She couldn’t say home. It didn’t feel right. “Need clean clothes. Restock my go bag. Everything smells like…case.”

Emily nodded once. JJ felt it more than saw it. Her hands drifted low, very low. “Yeah, we need to get going.” Emily gave her a few soft, deliberate pats. “Come on baby.”

JJ’s brain short-circuited. She blinked at Emily, then surged forward, crashing their mouths together. The kiss was messy, grinning, too much teeth at first, and then it softened. Long enough that the moment stretched.

When she finally pulled back, JJ’s voice dropped to a whisper against Emily’s ear. “Okay. I think I like that name better than Jennifer.”

Then she grinned, wicked and delighted, and launched herself off the bed, taking all the blankets with her.

“Let’s go Em. We’re gonna be late.” A pause. “God.” She said trying to hide a smirk.

JJ heard something that sounds suspiciously like ‘little shit’ as she disappeared into the bathroom.

JJ wasn’t sure when getting dressed became a two-person job.

It wasn’t official. There was no strategy. Just Emily handing her a hoodie without asking, JJ straightening Emily’s collar while she sipped her coffee, one of them always in the other’s space without ever actually being in the way.

She brushed her teeth while Emily leaned against the doorframe, drinking what was definitely JJ’s second mug of coffee, stolen without a word and unchallenged. JJ didn’t mention it. She just flicked water at her on the way out of the bathroom and grinned when Emily muttered something about dental violence.

Packing her go bag was the same. Emily folded the backup shirt JJ hadn’t even realized she’d left behind last week. JJ tossed a granola bar in Emily’s coat pocket without explanation. Emily said nothing, just raised a brow, then pulled JJ into a lazy kiss that lasted a little too long for how late they were running.

The drive was quiet. Warm. JJ’s hand rested on the center console, fingers drumming softly. Emily didn’t look over. Just slid her hand overtop like it belonged there. No squeeze. No comment. Just contact.

JJ didn’t pull away. She only let go when they pulled up in front of her apartment.

JJ should’ve gone in first. Really. It was her place. But instead, she opened the door, stepped just far enough to hit the light switch, and said, “Welcome to the saddest IKEA showroom you’ve ever seen.”

Emily stepped in behind her. Paused. Took one look at the sparsely furnished living room and went, “Wow.”

JJ raised a brow. “Wow good, or wow...should we turn around and pretend this never happened?”

Emily wandered in like she was casing the place. She poked the arm of the couch. Squinted at the bookshelf. Turned a full circle.

“Do you have any art,” she asked, “or is this a minimalist lifestyle choice?”

JJ scoffed. “It’s a sleep-and-shower location. Not a vibe.”

Emily opened the fridge. JJ heard the suction pop. “Wow again,” Emily said. “There’s a single Gatorade, expired mustard, and something that might’ve once been an apple.”

JJ made a noise. Something between a groan and a growl. “Okay, do me a favour and forget everything you’ve seen in here. I had a long-standing arrangement with this apartment that we weren’t going to get emotionally attached.”

She moved toward her small bedroom, trying not to let the awkwardness settle into her spine. But it was already creeping in. The silence. The blank walls. The hollow click of her boots on the floor.

This was her space. But Emily being in it made her suddenly aware of how temporary it all felt. Like she was squatting in her own life.

Emily came up beside her while she was rifling through a drawer. She didn’t say anything, just reached out and brushed JJ’s hip lightly with the back of her fingers. Just enough to make JJ pause. To feel it.

JJ glanced over.

Emily wasn’t teasing anymore. “You okay?”

JJ hesitated. “I’m fine.” A beat. “I just-” She shrugged. “This place is...I don’t know. I didn’t really set it up to be seen.”

Emily’s hand settled more firmly on her waist. Gentle. Warm. “You don’t have to perform in here,” she said. “I know what this is.”

JJ’s shoulders dropped just slightly. She wasn’t sure what this was, but she knew what Emily meant. She stepped in a little closer, letting her other hand skim up JJ’s back. Not in a way that demanded anything. Just steady. Present.

JJ let herself lean. Just for a second. Let her forehead brush Emily’s collarbone.

“This apartment sucks,” she mumbled into her shoulder.

Emily smiled into her hair. “Yeah. It really does.”

JJ huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Thanks.”

Emily pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re welcome.”

And that was all. Just a little breath of safety in the middle of a space that had never felt like anything but temporary. JJ let herself linger there for a few seconds longer, then pulled back and opened the drawer again.

Emily leaned casually against the doorframe.

"You’ve got five minutes to find something that says ‘competent federal agent’ and not ‘please fire me.’"

JJ rolled her eyes, but her shoulders dropped a little. The grounding tone helped. Emily wasn’t judging. Just...being there. She dressed the way she always did. Sharp, professional, slightly severe. And packed a go bag to match.

The car was quiet.

JJ had one foot on the dash, coffee held between both hands. The radio was low. Something instrumental, probably NPR by accident.

Emily reached over at a stoplight and flicked the top of JJ’s foot. “Feet down, you twerp.”

JJ didn’t move. “Make me.”

Emily hummed. Stole one of JJ’s hands instead, laced their fingers without looking.

JJ squeezed once. Didn’t let go.

The light turned green. Emily drove one-handed.

They walked into the bullpen shoulder to shoulder, just far enough apart to pass as casual. No one looked up. It was early. The lights were still humming to life. Garcia wasn’t even in yet. The scent of fresh coffee drifted through the space, warm and sharp. JJ let it settle into her lungs like a reset.

Emily dropped her bag at her desk without looking at her. JJ peeled off toward the kitchenette without needing to be told.

She didn’t ask how Emily took her coffee. She didn’t need to. She just fixed it and carried both mugs back like it was nothing, like it had always been this way. Emily looked up when she set the mug down, right at the edge of her desk.

“Thanks,” she said, quiet.

JJ didn’t answer. Just offered the smallest smile she could get away with and kept walking.

Later, she handed Emily a file across the bullpen. Their fingers brushed. Barely. But it still lit up something low in her chest. Neither of them flinched. Neither of them moved.

Emily’s eyes flicked up. JJ’s didn’t. Not at first. But she felt it. And she knew.

In the conference room, JJ sat beside her without even thinking about it. No hesitation. No glance. Just muscle memory now. They didn’t touch. Not really. But the space between them felt warm anyway.

When Garcia cracked a joke across the table and Emily laughed under her breath, JJ smiled at the sound. She didn’t mean to. Didn’t think anyone saw.

Probably no one did.

Emily shifted in her chair and JJ leaned with her, just slightly. It was nothing. Normal. The kind of nothing that would’ve meant everything if they were anywhere else.

When JJ bumped her elbow on the edge of the table reaching for a pen, Emily reached out instinctively to catch her. Her hand hovered for half a second, then she pulled it back.

JJ caught it anyway. The movement. The thought behind it.

From the outside, it was probably fine. Just two teammates. Two agents who worked together a lot, who moved easily around each other. Who didn’t need to speak to know what came next.

But Hotch was looking.

JJ didn’t notice right away. Not until she glanced up and caught him watching them, not glaring. Not judgmental. Just…observing. The way he did when he was trying to put something together that didn’t fit cleanly in a report.

She looked down. Straightened the folder in front of her. Tried to focus.

Hotch didn’t say anything. Just closed his own folder slowly. Glanced toward the two of them again.

Then he said, “Emily. JJ. My office, please.”

JJ’s heart didn’t quite drop. But it shifted. Like it knew something was coming.

She stood. Smoothed her blouse. Tried not to think about the coffee that had landed on Emily’s desk this morning without a word. Or the way Emily had shifted toward her when Garcia made a joke. Or the way her fingers still tingled from that brief brush of contact.

Emily stood beside her. Neither of them said anything. They didn’t look at each other. But they walked into Hotch’s office together.

Hotch didn’t ask them to sit. That was the first warning sign. He stood behind his desk with his arms loosely crossed, not angry, not cold. Just…watching. Quiet like something was coming.

JJ kept her posture relaxed, hands tucked loosely into her pockets. Emily mirrored it beside her, casual, neutral, but JJ could feel the tension in her, thin and tight like a wire just beneath the skin.

“Neither of your work has raised concern,” Hotch said, finally. “Your reports are consistent. Your performance in the field is steady even taking into account the last case. This isn’t about that.”

JJ straightened, ready to ask what it was about, until he turned his gaze on her.

“You’ve changed,” he said. Not accusatory. Just a fact. “Since Prentiss arrived.” JJ blinked. Hotch studied her. “You used to hold back,” he said. “From the team. Socially, I mean. You were polite. Professional. But that was all. Now I see you making conversation. Joking with Morgan. Sharing takeout with Garcia. Asking Reid about books he won’t stop recommending.”

JJ’s lips parted slightly. “I…thought that was a good thing.”

“It is.” He didn’t smile. “But it also happened to coincide with Emily’s arrival.”

JJ glanced sideways, instinctively. Emily didn’t move. But her arms were a little tighter now. Her jaw set.

Hotch continued. “You’ve softened. Opened up. That’s not the problem.”

JJ tilted her head slightly. “Then what is?”

Hotch looked between them. “I’ve also noticed that the way you speak to each other is different.”

The silence stretched. JJ didn’t breathe.

“You move together like you’ve known each other for years,” he said. “You catch each other’s eyes at odd times. There’s a lot more…instinct between you two that doesn’t read as new colleagues. I’m not accusing. I’m just telling you what others might think if they’re looking for it like I was. I probably wouldn’t have noticed the difference in your relationship versus the team, if it wasn’t such a flip on your part.” Hotch nodded to JJ.

JJ opened her mouth, but Hotch held up a hand.

“I don’t need denials. Not yet.” He paused. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just a connection that’s helped JJ settle into the team. Or maybe it’s something else. I don’t know.”

He looked at them both. Not harsh. Not unkind. But firm.

“What I do know is what happens, if it becomes more.” That landed. Hard. “Which is, I cannot have two members of my team in a personal relationship. If it happens, there will be transfers.”

JJ nodded. Quiet. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust her voice to sound normal.

Emily’s tone came a second later. Flat. Professional. “Understood.”

Hotch gave one final look between them. “That’s not a threat. It’s just protocol.”

JJ nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s all.”

They stood. JJ didn’t say anything as they left Hotch’s office. She didn’t have words. Not ones that wouldn’t tip something loose. Emily didn’t speak either.

She just walked beside her, steps careful, expression unreadable. Not the kind of unreadable JJ had gotten used to, not the dry humour, the deadpan warmth, the steady calm she’d learned to anchor to. This was quieter. Guarded. Like Emily had folded something inward, and was working hard not to let it show.

JJ watched her out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t want to stare. Didn’t want to make it a thing. But something about the silence made her chest tight.

“Hey,” she said softly, just as they rounded the corner toward the bullpen. It wasn’t much. Just a small sound. A test balloon.

Emily looked over. Smiled…but it wasn’t the right smile. Too fast. Too smooth. Like a muscle memory trying to pass for instinct. Someone else might’ve bought it. Might’ve called it effortless.

But JJ knew better.

She opened her mouth to say something else, anything else, but Morgan came around the corner asking for Emily’s attention. Emily went with him. Too quickly. Only a small flash of a smile in parting. This one had a familiar bit of softness but her eyes looked a million miles away.

She wasn’t pulling away, exactly. But she was stepping back. Like she needed to think without JJ watching. And JJ let her. She didn’t push. Just walked the hallway in silence, trailing slower behind them.

For the next few hours, the rhythm of the day pulled JJ back into its orbit. Mostly. She checked her ‘maybe’ pile of cases, moved a few to ‘not urgent’, skimmed her ‘very urgent, must choose one of these first’ stack, but she still couldn’t make a decision. Her brain kept catching on a loop.

Hotch hadn’t said much. He hadn’t needed to. Just the idea of separation, of being reassigned, had settled into JJ’s chest like a cold draft through a cracked window.

She knew how steady things had started to feel in private, but she hadn't realized how much she’d come to count on seeing Emily across the room. She didn’t want it to change. Not the team. Not the job. Not this thing they were building...this thing that felt irreversible, even if they hadn’t said it out loud.

She thought Emily felt the same.

She’d been so sure of it. Of the way Emily looked at her when she thought JJ wasn't watching. Of how easy it was to reach for each other, to lean in, to stay.

They hadn’t defined it, hadn’t said the words, but they were right there on the verge of something. Something that lived in the quiet. In the press of a palm. In the way JJ’s body always seemed to angle toward hers without thinking. It had felt mutual. Obvious.

But now…now she wasn’t so sure. Emily had looked so guarded after that meeting. Like she was locking something down. JJ’s chest ached with it. Not just at the thought of a reassignment, but at the possibility (the impossibility) of things ending.

Of Emily choosing the job. Of deciding it wasn’t worth it. And maybe that was fair. Maybe Emily had more to lose. Professionally at least. But it still hurt, deep and sharp. Because JJ hadn’t realized how much she’d let herself believe this was already real. Already hers.

And maybe she’d read too much into it. Maybe she’d let herself start hoping for things she hadn’t dared name. Maybe all the shared silences and the way Emily looked at her like she meant something, maybe it wasn’t what JJ thought it was.

She couldn’t stop her thoughts from spiralling: What if this really was the beginning of the end? What if Emily had already started pulling away in her mind? What if she was already bracing herself for clean separation, already preparing to say we knew it couldn’t last? JJ pressed a hand to her temple and stared down at the same file she hadn’t read three times in a row. Her foot bounced beneath her desk. She's gonna leave me too. She's gonna leave me too. She's gonna leave me too.

Before she could fully spiral, she heard it. Emily’s voice, gentle but steady: “See you at home?”

JJ looked up. Emily wasn’t smiling, not really. But her eyes were soft, and the word, home, landed like a warm hand pressed right over the panic in JJ’s chest. It didn’t fix everything. Didn’t answer every question clawing at the back of JJ’s mind. But it was enough. Enough to loosen something in her ribcage. Enough to remind her that Emily hadn’t pulled away, she was just taking a breath.

Just like JJ had to now. JJ nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be a bit late. Just want to finish a couple things.”

Emily didn’t question it. Just gave the barest tilt of her head and walked out. JJ watched her go. Let the quiet settle again. Let herself breathe. It's okay, we're okay. Whatever was pulling at Emily, whatever she was still sorting through, it wasn’t distance. It wasn’t doubt.

JJ would wait. Let her catch up. Because Emily had said home. And JJ knew exactly what that meant.

JJ didn’t rush. She never did when it was late. The bullpen had thinned to just a few quiet bodies, the kind that linger because their lives make more sense here than outside it. She understood that more than she liked to admit.

She shut her office door gently, shouldered her bag, and walked out with the file she'd finally chosen for their next case. It wasn’t cold, but the hallway still made her feel like she had to brace against something. Echoes, maybe.

The drive felt peaceful. Now familiar streets. Now familiar turns. A now familiar park that made her smile as she caught the glint of the swing set. She didn’t put music on. Just enjoyed the silence.

When she unlocked the apartment door, the lights were low. A lamp glowed warm from the corner of the living room. JJ could smell something faint. Laundry, maybe. Tea, definitely.

Emily was curled sideways on the couch, one leg tucked up, a book open but not moving in her hands. Her hair was loose. Her expression was unreadable again, but this time in the way JJ had come to expect, thoughtful, soft around the edges. Just tired enough to let the guard down.

JJ slipped off her shoes. Didn’t say anything at first. Just let the door click shut behind her and dropped her keys quietly on the counter.

Emily looked up. “Hey.”

JJ nodded once. “Hey.”

It could’ve stopped there. Just a greeting. But it didn’t.

Emily shifted her legs slightly. “Did you eat?”

JJ shook her head. “You?”

Emily smirked faintly. “I made toast. Then got distracted.”

JJ’s mouth twitched. “Sounds like a balanced meal.”

Emily shrugged, and JJ crossed the room. Didn’t sit yet. Just stood beside the couch like she didn’t quite know where she belonged. Like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. What if I'm wrong?

Then Emily reached over, palm open, lazy. Not grabbing. Not insisting. Just offering.  JJ took it. And sat. But she didn’t settle.

There was hesitation in her body, like a fault line braced for aftershocks. She perched at the edge of the cushion, hand still caught in Emily’s, tension coiled low in her spine. Not pulling away, but not leaning in either. Caught in the in-between. My family loved me. But they left.

Emily saw it. Felt it. Without a word, she shifted. Reached for JJ’s other hand. Tugged her closer.

JJ moved on instinct, like she didn’t quite know what was happening until she was already there until Emily had guided her into the warm curve of her lap, chest to chest. JJ’s knees straddled Emily’s thighs now, her body folding in without resistance. It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t careful. It was close.

Emily wrapped both arms around her waist. JJ’s head tucked under her jaw again, this time a little messier, a little more instinctive. Her hands curled against Emily’s sides, fingertips pressing just beneath the hem of her shirt. Not seeking anything. Just needing to touch.

Their breathing synced slowly. She's starting to feel more like family than they ever did. Can I say that? Is that real?

JJ didn’t even realize she was trembling until Emily’s hands found the small of her back and pressed gently. “I’ve got you,” she murmured, barely audible.

JJ closed her eyes. Swallowed hard. Then, into Emily’s collar, she said, “I don’t think I can go back to not being like this with you.”

Emily didn’t respond at first. Just held her. One hand slid up between JJ’s shoulder blades and stayed there. JJ kept going, the words small, raw. “I like it. You. Us. I like waking up beside you. I like the way you say ‘interesting’ when you’re trying not to insult someone."

Emily didn’t move, but JJ could feel the attention, the warmth of it. It made her keep going. “I like how your socks never match. Like, aggressively don’t match. But only here, at home." Her voice almost caught on the word. "I like that you cut the crusts off your toast and hide it like it’s a secret. I like that you organize your fridge like a serial killer but let me fuck up every other space in this apartment without complaining.”

Her fingers clenched a little tighter in Emily’s shirt. Her voice picked up, just barely.

“I like brushing my teeth beside you even though you spit like a gremlin. I like-” Her voice cracked. She pushed through it. “I like how you always bring me an extra spoon even when we’re not sharing. I like that you always hand wash my mug so that it doesn't get damaged from the dish washer."

She was breathing faster now. Still quiet, still close but there was panic behind the softness. “I like the stupid way you hum when you fold laundry and the way you look at me like I’m made of something rare and impossible. And, and-"

Her breath hitched. “I can’t go back.”

Emily finally moved. She sat up straighter, eyes sharp now, locked on JJ’s.

JJ didn’t stop. She couldn’t. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered, almost shaking. “I can’t...I can’t go back to being the girl who eats dinner standing at the sink. Who sleeps with the TV on just so it feels like someone’s there. I, I, I can't go back to someone who had no one."

Emily reached up, cupped the back of JJ’s neck gently. “Jennifer.”

JJ swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to do this if you leave. I thought I did. I thought I could push you away, before, but I can’t. Especially now. I don't know how!"

Emily didn’t flinch. She wrapped both arms around her, pulled her in tight. "I'm not leaving," she said, voice low against JJ’s shoulder. “I can’t.” She let out a breath, shaky, quiet, down JJ's back. "I'm in too deep,” Emily murmured. “I couldn't leave, even if I wanted to."

Emily’s arms tightened. Her nose brushed JJ’s hair. “We can’t tell anyone,” she said finally. Quiet, but serious. Like the words cost something. “We keep it safe. I just…” She stopped. Her jaw worked once, like she was biting back something heavier. “I need it to not cost us everything.”

JJ nodded slowly against her collar. She heard the layers. Not just career. Not just scandal. Everything.

There was something Emily wasn’t saying. JJ could feel it in the way her grip had shifted, gentle, but bracing. Like she was holding them both up against something neither of them could name.

JJ pulled back just enough to see her face. "Okay."

Emily gave a single, silent nod. But she didn’t let go. And JJ didn’t move. Not yet.

They stayed like that for another minute, quiet, wrapped up, the air between them warmer than it had been all day.

Then Emily gave a soft grunt and shifted slightly. “Okay,” she murmured, voice rough from emotion and proximity, “I need to get up.”

JJ made a faint protesting sound and clung tighter. “No.”

“Yes,” Emily said, rubbing her hand gently down JJ’s back, then lower. “I need to feed you. You look like you’ve survived on caffeine and stubbornness since noon.”

JJ groaned but didn’t let go. “Those are two of my core food groups.”

Emily huffed a laugh into her hair. Gave her a couple affectionate pats. “Come on, gremlin. I’m making real food. You don’t get a say.”

The next few weeks were…fine. Mostly.

Work was work. The team caught cases, chased monsters, solved things, filed reports, flew home. Rinse, repeat. And JJ and Emily were totally normal.

So normal, in fact, it was suspicious.

They didn’t stop sitting near each other. Or quietly checking in. Or syncing up naturally without meaning to. But what did change, almost immediately, was the awareness. The hyper-awareness. The constant, buzzing, awkward, do not touch each other for the love of God someone is watching energy that hung in the air like static.

It was subtle. At first.

A few extra inches of space while walking through the bullpen. An overcorrected joke about paperwork that made no sense. JJ forgetting how to use a chair when Emily looked at her too long. Emily knocking over a water bottle that wasn’t hers and then awkwardly apologizing to JJ for some reason.

Nothing damning. Just…off.

They overcompensated like guilty teenagers. The kind who think if they act less like they’re dating, no one will notice they’re making heart eyes across the jet every time the other laughs.

“Are you two okay?” Garcia asked one afternoon, narrowing her eyes between them like she was trying to solve a code.

Emily blinked. “Fine.”

JJ nodded. “Normal.”

Garcia tilted her head. “You said that at the same time.”

JJ and Emily exchanged a look. JJ cleared her throat. “No, we didn’t.”

“You did it again,” Garcia muttered, and wandered off, mumbling about data and denial.

Hotch didn’t say anything, but he started assigning them to different tasks more often, like someone separating particularly volatile chemicals. Reid, for his part, seemed fascinated by whatever equation JJ and Emily were unknowingly solving with body language and micro expressions. Morgan just raised his eyebrows a lot and said “huh” under his breath like he was waiting for something to blow.

They weren’t caught, exactly. But they weren’t exactly hiding well either.

Which was a problem. Because the closer they got, the harder it became to stop being close. And at home, away from desks and tactical gear, they kept weaving tighter.

JJ learned exactly how Emily liked her tea (“boil the water, then wait fifteen seconds so you don’t scald the leaves, sunshine”). Emily learned exactly how JJ liked her back scratched (“lower…lower…lower…there”), and administered it with the precision of a neurosurgeon while reading case files on the couch.

Emily narrated life now like she was trying to win a trivia contest no one else entered. Useless facts about octopus dreams or how many hearts a cockroach could theoretically survive without. JJ never stopped her. She’d come home, drop her bag, and let Emily’s voice fill the room like background radiation. It was ridiculous. And oddly perfect.

Emily always sat on the left side of the couch. JJ always ended up sprawled halfway across her lap, even if she started across the room. It became a game: Emily would angle her body just right, and JJ would act like she was being magnetically pulled, groaning dramatically as she flopped into place. “Ugh, you have gravity,” she’d say. Emily never smiled, just wrapped an arm around her waist and replied, “Astrophysicists hate me.”

Their version of flirting included increasingly dramatic death threats whispered into each other’s shoulders. “If you leave the cap off the toothpaste again I’m staging a coup,” JJ murmured one morning, nosing into Emily’s neck. Emily wrapped an arm around her hips and replied, “Make it look like an accident. I want Gideon to cry at my funeral.”

Emily could tell exactly how JJ was feeling by the way she touched her back. A hand on the small of it meant “I missed you.” Fingertips skating her spine meant “I’m anxious.” A full palm pressed between her shoulder blades meant “Don’t go anywhere yet.” JJ never said those things out loud. Emily never asked her to.

JJ liked kissing Emily’s shoulder when she walked by. Not the mouth, not the cheek. Just the shoulder. One night, after a long case, JJ passed her in the kitchen and pressed a kiss to the bare skin just beneath Emily’s shirt collar. Emily stopped stirring the pasta. Didn’t say a word. Just reached back, tangled her fingers in JJ’s, and held her hand there. Over her heart. Until the timer beeped.

It was stupidly close, hopelessly domestic, and absolutely their own.

Then came New Orleans...and Detective LaMontagne.

He introduced himself the way a man does when he’s already decided you’re the most interesting person in the room. Firm handshake, Southern charm, eyes locked on JJ like she was the answer to a question he hadn’t dared ask before.

JJ didn’t notice. Not really.

She was polite. Focused. Just the right amount of distant. Not cold, but unreachable in a way Will couldn’t quite name. And when she glanced sideways, when Emily cleared her throat or muttered something under her breath, JJ always seemed to hear it before anyone else.

They were professional. Casual. Offbeat but nothing overt. The kind of rhythm only two people deeply in sync could pretend wasn’t a rhythm at all.

The team didn’t think much of it. JJ had always been a little withheld, Emily still new enough to be orbiting the group. Everyone adjusted...but Will wasn’t adjusting. He was looking. Hoping. And because he was hoping, he saw it. It wasn’t big. Wasn’t obvious.

Just one moment, when most of the team was already packed away into vehicles ready to move on.

JJ bent to grab her go-bag, winced as her shoulder twinged from a strain earlier in the day. Emily’s hand was there instantly, grounding at her lower back. No words. No look. Just the instinct of it. JJ let her head dip forward. Only for a second. Emily’s thumb shifted once against her spine. Then gone. Will looked away like he hadn’t seen it. But he had.

And JJ saw him see. Caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, his hand, halfway into his pocket, tucking away something small and white. A business card, maybe.

She straightened up fast. Swallowed once. Will smiled when their eyes met. A little softer now. A little further away. JJ didn’t smile back. Didn’t say anything. She just nodded. Then turned toward the waiting car, still feeling the echo of Emily’s hand like it hadn’t left her at all.

“So, you gonna call Detective Heart Eyes?” Morgan wasted no time once they were up in the air to lean across the aisle with a big grin.

JJ blinked. “What?”

“LaMontagne,” he said, amused. “Dude was ready to buy a ring.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t notice.”

Morgan chuckled. “That’s the problem. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.” Sure didn't.

JJ didn’t answer, fingers fidgeting at the edge of her report. There was a beat too long where Morgan could’ve kept going, but didn’t. His voice dropped a little, lost the teasing.

“You’re already seeing someone, aren't you?"

JJ glanced at him. That rare, unreadable look she wore when she was deciding whether or not to let someone in. “I am,” she eventually said.

Morgan tilted his head. Thought about something. “Same person you told me about..."

JJ’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “Yeah.”

“You said it was special.” His voice was careful now, almost reverent.

“It still is.” JJ’s thumb brushed the edge of her page. She didn’t look at Emily, but she felt the shift across the aisle.

Morgan nodded once, slow. “Good.”

She gave him a quiet smile. Almost apologetic. But not really. Not for this. Emily didn’t react, not really. But she stopped writing. Stared at the paper for just a second too long. Hotch turned a page, then looked at her over the rim of the file. No expression. Just attention.

It worked, mostly.

This quiet navigation of something unsaid. A strange kind of rhythm. Normal enough, until one of them remembered that normal might look too close. Then came the overcorrection: the sudden space, the weird pause, the joke that didn’t land. And if anyone was watching, it wasn’t the closeness they’d notice. It was the way they pulled away.

They kept doing it. Case after case. One awkward adjustment after another...until Elizabeth Prentiss showed up, formal and uninvited, and Emily went quiet in a different way. She tensed so subtly only JJ noticed. A shift in her posture. The way her arms crossed, too neatly. The way she didn’t speak unless addressed. JJ didn’t comment. She just watched. Carefully.

When Hotch introduced Elizabeth to the team, JJ stepped in a fraction closer to Emily’s side. She didn't speak either. Just stood there. Present.

Throughout the day, the case unfolded in fragments but what JJ tracked most was Emily. Her jaw clenched every time Elizabeth inserted herself, like she belonged in their rhythm. Her sentences shortened. Her sarcasm dulled.

JJ started passing Emily coffee without being asked. Lightly touching her elbow when she redirected her in the field. Standing a little too close, offering tiny things (comments, glances, grounding presences) without thinking who else might see.

And maybe she wasn’t thinking. Because the more tightly wound Emily became, the less JJ remembered to care.

JJ approached slowly.

She didn’t speak right away, just stopped beside her. Gave her space to say something first. When she didn’t, JJ leaned against the wall next to her and said quietly, “You okay?”

Emily didn’t answer. JJ nodded to herself, like that was fine. Like she hadn’t expected an answer anyway. “She got under your skin.”

“She always does,” Emily said, voice low, a little raw.

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable, just there. JJ reached out and touched her fingers lightly to Emily’s wrist. “You don’t have to talk to her.”

“I know.”

“But I think you want to.”

Emily let out a breath. Didn’t deny it.

JJ offered the smallest smile. “So go talk to her. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Emily finally looked at her. Really looked at her.

Her hand drifted slightly, almost took JJ’s, almost didn’t. She didn’t say anything out loud, but her eyes lingered. A silent question.

JJ caught it. Answered it with a quiet squeeze at her forearm. “I’ll see you at home.”

Emily’s mouth lifted in something that almost resembled a smile. She nodded once, slow.

JJ turned to go. And just past the corner, standing just inside the doorway, Elizabeth was there. Out of ear shot, but watching.

She paused for only a second, met Elizabeth’s gaze, then stepped aside. Let them have the room.

JJ had just started dinner. Nothing complicated, pasta, maybe. Something warm and easy. She wasn’t rushing, just moving through the motions with the soft kind of focus that came from knowing someone you loved was on their way home.

She’d barely filled the pot when the door clicked open behind her.

Emily’s footsteps were soft. When JJ looked up, she was already in the kitchen doorway, shoulders slouched, hair a little mussed from the wind, expression unreadable but not tight the way it had been.

JJ offered a small smile. “Hey.”

Emily leaned against the doorframe, like the walk from her car to here had used up the last of her energy. “Hi.”

JJ watched her for a beat. “Hungry?”

“A little.”

JJ nodded toward the pot. “It’s nothing fancy. I haven’t really started yet.”

Emily didn’t answer right away. Just pushed off the frame and came closer, moving like her limbs weren’t quite heavy anymore, just slow.

“She apologized,” she said, voice quiet.

JJ blinked. “Your mom?”

Emily nodded. “Sort of. In her way. I'm not totally sure what she was apologizing for. But she asked if I'd go to dinner with her sometime.”

JJ didn’t say anything right away. Just gave a small nod and went to turn the burner on. The click was the only sound for a moment.

Then Emily was behind her, warm and close. Her arms wrapped low around JJ’s waist, chin finding a resting place on her shoulder.

“She said I seem happy,” Emily murmured.

JJ tilted her head just slightly, amused. “Was that a compliment or a concern?”

Emily huffed a laugh. “Honestly? Jury’s out.”

JJ leaned into her a bit. “You don’t exactly scream sunshine and puppies, you know.”

“I do when you're involved.”

JJ blinked. “That’s…unsettling.”

“Too late,” Emily said simply, hands slipping beneath the hem of JJ’s shirt to splay across her stomach. “You’re stuck with me. And I...” She paused, then pressed a kiss just below JJ’s ear. “I really am happy, Jen.”

JJ went still for half a second, heart catching on the way Emily said it like it was a secret, or a confession, or both. She turned in Emily’s arms slowly, eyes soft but teasing. “That’s dangerously close to sentimental.”

Emily didn’t flinch. Just met her gaze and shrugged, a little helpless, a little wrecked in the best way. “I know.”

JJ’s smile curved, quiet and fierce. “I’m glad.”

Emily’s thumb traced her side. “If she noticed,” she added more quietly, “other people might too.”

JJ hummed. “That detective from New Orleans noticed something was up.”

Emily perked up, amused. “You mean Sergeant Southern Drawl?”

JJ rolled her eyes. “Are you purposely fucking up his title? Because all you did was promote him.”

Emily paused, then shook her head dramatically. “The man was practically proposing with his eyes.”

“He asked for my email,” JJ said flatly.

Emily smirked. “He was gonna ask for your hand until he saw me hovering like a possessive ghost.”

JJ snorted. “You did linger a little.”

“Lingering is subtle,” Emily countered. “I loomed.”

JJ gave her a sideways glance. “So you’re saying this is your fault?”

Emily grinned, unrepentant. “I’m saying you’re irresistible and I’m very bad at sharing.”

JJ gave her a soft nudge with her hip. “That’s dangerously close to a compliment.”

Emily leaned in again, voice low and warm. “I’m dangerously close to a lot of things.”  Her fingers dipped into the waistband of JJ’s sweatpants: lazy, possessive, smiling against her shoulder.

JJ’s eyes flicked down, then back up, smile tugging at her mouth again. “And now you’re flirting.”

Emily just shrugged, smug. “You make it easy.”

“Back on topic,” JJ said, nudging Emily’s hands away half-heartedly. “You really think people are going to start noticing?”

Emily didn’t answer right away. Just rested her chin lightly on JJ’s shoulder, fingers still brushing the edge of her waistband like she couldn’t quite let go. “They’re profilers, Jen. It’s literally their job to notice when someone’s heartbeat changes.”

JJ groaned. “That’s such an irritatingly good point. We're barely getting away with it. You spilled coffee in your own lap last week because I smiled at you.”

“I panicked.”

“You panicked because I smiled.”

“It was a very nice smile,” Emily said, without shame. Her eyes went googly. JJ could practically see the cartoon hearts beating out of them.

JJ snorted, then softened, voice lower. “We’ve gotta get it under control.”

"How?"

"Well, for starters...you have to stop looking at me like that at work.” JJ said, swatting Emily’s hand away from her waistband for the third time in two minutes.

“Like what?” Emily asked, entirely distracted, as she reached around JJ and turned off the burner. She took JJ gently by the hips and lifted her onto the counter, then leaned in, nuzzling into her sternum.

JJ huffed. "Like you've seen me naked."

“I have,” Emily said, helpfully. “A lot. It's pretty great.”

JJ rolled her eyes, but she was already smiling. “You’re the worst.” She nudged her aside, hopping down to turn the burner back on.

Emily grinned, wide and smug, and pressed herself to JJ's back.

"Focus!" JJ couldn't help the giggle that came out when she turned in her arms to face her, something quieter tugging at her voice now. “What I meant was...you can’t look at me like I mean the world to you.”

That slowed Emily down. Just for a second. She reached for JJ again, hands gentle, like she didn’t want to spook her. Her mouth opened, something almost forming on her tongue, but JJ cut her off before it landed. “We’ve got to figure this out. At work. We're making it worse by pretending we’re not…whatever this is.”

Emily let out a breath, hands still at JJ’s waist. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s not that we’re too close, it’s that we get weird about it once we notice we’re being too close.”

JJ gave a rueful smile. “We’re not subtle.”

Emily snorted. “No. We’re like a slow-moving car crash. In a glass factory.”

“So we step back,” JJ said. “Cold. Distant. Dispassionately competent.”

Emily grinned. “Oh, the dream.”

JJ flicked a pepper slice at her. “We’ll last five minutes.”

Emily caught it, shrugged. “That’s four minutes longer than I expected.”

They overcorrected.

Where they used to hover, now they snapped back. Polite, professional, cold. They’d traded comfort for caution. Warmth for safety.

JJ stopped herself from brushing Emily’s hand when she passed her files. She stopped sitting beside her on flights. Stopped looking across the room during briefings, even though she felt Emily’s gaze like static.

Emily looked away faster now.

She answered JJ’s questions with clipped precision. Always technically kind, but never warm. Once, JJ bumped into her in the hallway, full-body collision, by accident, and Emily barely reacted. Just steadied her with a hand on her arm and said, “Agent Jareau,” like she was checking for damage.

It left JJ aching, hollow.

But she noticed it...the way Emily held back a wince afterward, like she knew she’d gone too cold. Like it stung to be that distant. JJ noticed, because she did it too. Snapped too sharp. Cut a joke short. Didn’t let herself look too long. And then sat in the quiet aftermath, pretending she didn’t want to apologize for something she technically hadn’t done.

They were distant on purpose. But it felt like loss.

And then...

"You don't choose who you fall in love with." Emily said to Jane. Her voice was soft. Careful. Trying to sound like sympathy.

But after weeks of distance. After silence and stubborn restraint, JJ saw the shift. The way Emily’s shoulders twitched like she’d flinched at her own honesty. The way her fingers clenched together. The way she tried not to look JJ’s way but couldn’t help the flicker in her direction.

JJ stopped breathing. The words echoed, sharp and full of truth, and JJ felt the back of her throat burn. Because she knew. She knew exactly who Emily meant. There was no question. No doubt.

She planned on saying it, finally saying it, when they got back. But Emily had to stay late at work. Which turned into very late. And by the time the jingle of keys woke her on the couch, it was too dark and too quiet, and Emily was already pulling her to her feet with a soft smile and warm fingers.

JJ told herself it could wait. Better to say it in the morning, fully awake and coherent, not half-asleep with pillow lines on her face. So she let Emily guide her to bed. Let herself drift off to a kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth and a murmured, “Night, baby.”

Her last thought before sleep was simple and sure: I’m gonna love the shit out of that woman.

But when she woke up, Emily’s side of the bed was cold. Barely rumpled. The kitchen was quiet. Emily already dressed, coffee in hand, standing by the counter with her mind somewhere else. She didn’t turn around when JJ entered. “I’ll see you at work,” she said.

No kiss. No wave. Just the faint scent of her shampoo as she brushed past and left.

At work, JJ started noticing things that didn’t feel like performance.

Emily stopped lingering in rooms altogether. Not just with her, with anyone. She took her coffee to go. Dodged invitations. Talked only when necessary. She stopped sitting across from JJ at round tables, started choosing the chair that left someone else in between.

And it was subtle. So subtle JJ could’ve blamed it on timing, on coincidence, on Emily being tired.

But JJ knew the difference. She knew when Emily was pretending to be distant. And she knew when Emily actually was. Because this didn’t sting in the same way. It ached. It confused.

At first, JJ thought it was just them sticking to the plan. Colder at work, safer that way. But Emily wasn’t just colder. She was somewhere else. Even when she was next to her. Even when she curled up on the couch after work and told JJ random trivia about deep-sea creatures or ancient curses or goddamn otters, like nothing had changed.

But something had. JJ could feel it.

It was in the half-second delays. The unspoken things Emily didn’t quite say anymore. The way she still kissed her cheek in the morning but didn’t quite look her in the eye before walking out the door.

JJ couldn’t put her finger on it. Couldn’t trace it back to a fight, or a shift, or even a moment. Just this slow dulling, like Emily was pulling away and didn’t know how to explain why.

And for the first time in weeks, the questions slipped back into her mind. What if I was wrong? What if she wasn't talking about me? But even with the distance, that didn’t feel right. JJ could still feel it. In the quiet. In the way Emily lingered near her without realizing. Everything still pointed to love. Just...something was in the way.

And then...she got her answer. It came from an infuriating chain of events that started with Reid telling her Emily had quit, involved Strauss trying to derail their entire case, and Emily ignoring every goddamn attempt at contact (a fucking messenger pigeon might be more successful).

And ended with Emily finally showing up and JJ couldn’t even fully show her relief, or her fury, because Emily went full martyr and walked into the unsub’s house. Alone. And then got taken out by a two-by-four. JJ was livid. And scared. And completely unable to check on her the way she wanted because Hotch got there first. Because the whole team was watching. Because the second JJ touched Emily’s elbow, Hotch’s eyes locked onto the contact like it was a crime and gave Emily the order to find an ambulance outside.

JJ didn’t follow right away.

She stood in the hallway, back against the wall, arms crossed like that might hold her together. She could still feel the heat of Hotch’s glare like it had branded her elbow. Still see the way Emily had steadied herself, nodded, barely looked her way.

She should go to her. Should check if she’s okay. But what if Emily doesn't want that right now? I still don't know what the hell just happened. Why did she quit? Why didn't she tell me? Why did she ignore me? What if going to her now just made it worse?

She exhaled, sharp and shaky. Pushed off the wall. Took one step down the hall and stopped. Backtracked. Paused again. This was stupid. She was being stupid.

But her chest ached. Her hands felt restless, like they were supposed to be doing something, like they were supposed to be on Emily. Comforting her. Holding her. With her.

“Fuck it,” JJ muttered under her breath, already turning.

She walked fast, half out of nerves, half out of instinct, down the hall toward the sound of voices. She figured Emily would be with a medic or maybe off to the side, getting patched up. She didn’t expect to hear her voice, sharp and low, through a cracked door.

“…I’ve already proven something to you, Hotch. I walked away from all of this because I didn't want to be pushed around like a game piece.”

JJ stopped just outside the threshold. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop. She just…froze. Emily sounded tired. Controlled, but raw around the edges.

“If this is the mild head trauma talking, fine, you can ignore it. But you fucked us up by saying that.” A pause. “You didn’t ask for denials, but I’m giving you one anyway. There’s nothing going on with me and JJ.”

JJ’s breath caught.

Emily kept going. “I don’t know what she was like before. I only know what she’s like now. And if I brought that out in her, good. Because she's great. We clicked. But you pointing a finger at us made us worry that everyone was watching, and it’s messed with our dynamic. I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry about. But you watching us like a hawk is keeping us on edge. That’ll do more damage to the team than anything we’re not doing.”

Silence.

JJ’s heart thudded hard. Not because she was hurt but because Emily sounded like she was defending her. Protecting her. Even now.

“Please,” Emily said, quieter now. “Just back off. Let us just be teammates.”

JJ stepped away before she could hear Hotch’s response. She didn’t need to. Emily hadn’t said everything. But she’d said enough.

And later when, Emily sat next to JJ on the plane, Hotch didn't look up but when they landed, he turned to JJ and said quietly, “Make sure she gets home safe.”

The apartment door clicked shut behind them. Emily dropped her keys in the dish and toed off her boots with a wince. JJ was already on her heels, hovering.

“You should sit,” JJ said, stepping ahead to clear the couch. “Want an ice pack? Advil? Water?”

“I’m fine,” Emily said, which was clearly a lie. She was walking like her spine had been replaced with splintered plywood.

JJ turned sharply. “You got nailed in the head with a two-by-four.”

“And I’ve had worse. It’s just-” Emily paused, hand ghosting over her bandaged forehead. “Tender.”

JJ crossed her arms. “Tender. That’s the medical diagnosis?”

Emily gave her a look: dry, tired, and fond. “You’re bossy when you’re worried.”

“Yeah, well,” JJ muttered, “you make it very hard not to be.”

That cracked a smile from Emily, but it faded fast. She sank down onto the couch and let her head fall back with a quiet groan. JJ didn’t sit yet. She watched her for a long beat, looked at the tired lines under her eyes, the faint smudge of dried blood behind her hairline.

JJ moved to the kitchen. She grabbed an ice pack, a glass of water, and the last protein bar from the pantry. When she returned, Emily was still in the same position, head tipped back, eyes closed.

JJ didn’t speak. Just handed everything over and waited until Emily cracked one eye open.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

JJ hesitated, then sat beside her. Not touching. Just close. Her hand twitched in her lap.

“You scared the hell out of me today.”

Emily swallowed. “I know.”

“You didn’t answer my messages.”

“I know,” Emily said again, quieter this time. “I didn't...I wasn’t ready.”

JJ nodded slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me you quit?”

“I was going to,” Emily said, straightening slightly. “But then I didn’t know how to tell you that Strauss was trying to get me to find dirt on the team. On Hotch." JJ's head jerked back. That's not what she was expecting. "I didn't by the way."

"Course you didn't." JJ waved a hand in impatience, "But you could have told me."

"I know." Emily sighed loudly and laid down so her head was laying in JJ's lap. JJ took the icepack and held it to her forehead. "I think I just needed some time to spiral without making it your problem. I just felt...inadequate. That I was just being used for someone else's agenda. Someone's politics. I worked so hard to stay out of that, and the first time I made a move in D.C., I was just a Prentiss again. Just a name to use to get ahead. And now I don't know why I was hired. Because I worked my ass off? Or because I'm a Prentiss?"

JJ went still for a second. Her hand froze with the ice pack against Emily’s forehead. And when she finally spoke, her voice wasn’t soft. It wasn’t angry either, not really. Just tight. Controlled. Furious in the way only love could be.

Emily opened her mouth to continue, but JJ cut her off.

“You are not some pawn, Emily. You are not your mother’s reputation. You’ve earned everything. Every case, every arrest, every bit of respect this team has for you, you earned it. No one gave it to you.”

She paused, chest rising with a sharp inhale.

“And I’m sorry Strauss made you feel like you were something to use. I’m sorry Hotch put us under a microscope like we’d done something wrong just for giving a shit about each other. But don’t let that get twisted into some narrative where you’re here for any reason besides being damn good at your job.”

Emily looked up at her, stunned silent.

JJ’s voice dropped, quieter now, but no less fierce. “You are one of the best agents I’ve ever worked with. And one of the best people I’ve ever known. So yeah. Maybe you’re a Prentiss. But you’re also Emily. And that’s the part I care about.”

Emily didn’t respond right away. She just blinked, slowly, like she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted like she might argue but nothing came out. JJ reached down, brushing her fingers lightly through Emily’s hair.

“The fact that you are stunningly beautiful to the point of me frequently choking on my own tongue around you is, frankly, the most boring thing about you.”

Emily huffed, surprised, like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

JJ leaned in, hands cradling either side of her head, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“This right here,” JJ whispered against her skin, “is what makes you so special.”

She stayed close as she kept talking, her voice soft and sure.

“You are without a doubt the most interesting person I’ve ever met. The smartest too. Well, Spencer exists, but you’ve got your moments where even he can’t compete. And somehow you still say some of the dumbest, most random things I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m not that random,” Emily mumbled, arms looping tighter around JJ’s waist, face buried now in her stomach.

JJ smiled, carding her fingers through Emily’s hair. “Sweetheart, you once told me giraffes are thirty times more likely to get hit by lightning than people.”

“We were at the zoo,” Emily said into her collarbone, muffled.

“And you once informed me that your brain is constantly eating itself.”

“I just thought that would be…comforting?”

JJ snorted. “Can I get back to telling you why I love you?”

Emily stiffened slightly. “You love me?”

JJ looked down at her, warm and certain. “Of course I do. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that for weeks. Maybe months.”

Emily didn’t speak.

She just pressed her face tighter into JJ’s stomach. Breathed in, shaky. Let it out slow.

Then, after a beat, she moved. Shifted up onto her knees, into JJ’s space with quiet urgency. Her hands cupped JJ’s face. Eyes searching. Wide. Bare.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

And then she kissed her: soft, deliberate, like she meant every word twice over.

JJ pulled Emily closer until she settled in her lap. Every inch as close as possible. Eventually JJ pulled back and whispered in Emily's ear: "If you ever ignore me like that again, I'll make sure every sandwich you have for the rest of your life is made with the heel pieces of bread."