Chapter Text
KISS ME ON THE MOUTH AND LOVE ME LIKE A SAILOR
“Jayje,” Emily said, turning her head to see the other woman. The dimly lit kitchen occupied by an absurd amount of dishes, soap, and dark smoke. “I think I fucked up dinner…”
She looked at the burning rice and then to JJ who was snuggled up on the couch, flickering through netflix like it was no-ones business, her stark blonde hair a light amongst the dark furniture.
Jennifer's head snapped around “How did you screw up risotto– Oh.”
Her eyebrows furrowed looking at the smoking wok and lack of edible food. A smirk lit up her face, JJ’s blue eyes encasing Emily’s being, just at the sight of her, Emily’s knees went weak. God, what a woman. “God, thats fucking radioactive!” A quiet laugh escaped her.
“I’m definitely not eating this.”
“Pizza it is then.” She winked, and Emily could feel her entire being blush. She chuckled as they started fixing the dishes, disposing of the…almost risotto. They moved in sync, hands washing and drying plates in perfect timing as if they were destined to be with one another.
Just as she finished washing the final plate, JJ came up behind her, wrapping her cold hand around Emily’s waist and propping her chin up on her shoulder. “Almost done, sweetheart?” She purred, gripping her waist tighter.
“Almost. You’ll just have to wait.” Emily curled her lip into a smile, knowing Jennifer’s remaining patience was quickly wearing away. “Anyway, if you’re good, I'll give you a reward.” She slowed down her drying, only teasing the blonde more.
“And what will this reward entail?” JJ had taken to drawing soft patterns of her neck, swirling her tongue around her sensitive areas, a tease of what is yet to come. Emily let out a breathless sigh at the feeling.
As she turned around, she saw a sultry, predatory smile itch its way onto JJ’s face, something she never thought she’d see 18 years ago. The truth was, that ever since she had met Jennifer Jareau, she thought she would never be able to take her eyes off her ever again.
Emily looked down at the woman caressing her body oh so gently and closed the gap between them, their bodies almost intertwined. The heat of their figures coursing through the air.
“You tell me,” Emily whispered, her breath mingling with JJ’s, “what do you want for your reward?”
JJ’s eyes sparkled with mischief and desire as she leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing against Emily’s. “I think you know,” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down Emily’s spine.
“But I want to hear you say it.”
Emily’s heart raced as she gazed into those piercing blue eyes that she had admired for all of two decades. “A kiss?” she asked, her voice filled with lust. JJ’s smile widened, and she nodded slowly.
“That’s a start,” she said, “But I think we can do better than that.”
Emily’s breath hitched as JJ’s lips finally met hers, the kiss soft and teasing at first, then growing more passionate. She felt herself melting into JJ’s embrace, their bodies pressed together, the world outside the kitchen fading away.
She moaned as Jennifer moved her hand up to her hair, grabbing hold of the strands at the back of her neck, holding on as if it was a life line and she was drowning. Emily’s tongue made its way into JJ’s mouth, kissing every inch of her mouth.
Roaming hands came up to JJ’s shirt, working their way underneath as her face was brought closer by Jennifer’s tight grip on her hair, bringing out a whimper.
When they finally, reluctantly, broke apart, both of them breathless and flushed, JJ rested her forehead against Emily’s. “I love you,” She breathed out, a hand coming up and resting on her chest while the other stayed still tangled in Emily’s grey hair, combing through it softly. “I love you so much, Em.”
And suddenly, she was 37 again, looking at JJ, reading her like an open book; feeling like it was them against the world when she reached over and gripped her hand like it felt like they were the only thing that mattered. When the world was dark, JJ was her light and nothing that could happen would change that.
“So…what about pizza?” JJ spoke, her hand falling to Emily’s wrist; toying with the seams of the long, now dishevelled shirt she had chosen to wear.
A mischievous glint made its way to Emily’s eyes, her mind only focused on getting Jennifer into her bed and not leaving that bed until they were both completely ruined.
Emily licked her lips, biting down on her bottom lip as she admired JJ; there was no one in the universe that could compare to the sheer beauty of Jennifer Jareau, she had the type of beauty that made you want to get down on your knees and pledge your life away.
“You’re the only thing i want to eat tonight” Her lips brushed JJ’s ear as a husky, low breath left her mouth. The soft laugh that left JJ’s mouth that was cut off by her desperate moan.
JJ's breath hitched, her heart racing with anticipation. She closed her eyes briefly, savouring the sensation of Emily's lips against her earlobe. Every nerve in her body tingled with need, her thoughts consumed by the woman before her who had always been her anchor, her safe harbour.
Without another word, JJ leaned in, capturing Emily's lips in another deep, sensual kiss. Their bodies pressed together in a frenzy, dragging one another towards the bedroom, clothing was lost the second their hands found new, naked skin to caress.
They crashed into the door, Emily pressed JJ up against it, pushing her way as close as possible to her, the last few articles of clothing clinged to their bodies, soaked in arousal. “I need you to fuck me, Emily.” A raspy moan came from the blonde, igniting a fire inside Emily.
She sank to her knees watching JJ in all her glory, almost completely naked, for her and only her. Jennifer Jareau was hers and no one would take that away from her. Emily leaned in, nipping at the inside of Jennifer’s thighs, getting closer to her core.
“Beg me for it, beg me to fuck you, baby.” A low groan came from her.
“Fuck– Emily, please fuck me, I need it.” Jennifer moaned quietly. “Please.” Emily reached up and tugged down JJ’s black panties that clung to her pussy, leaning forward, and enjoyed how JJ trembled when her hot breath met her slit.
“Good girl.”
Frantically, JJ grabbed her hair, dragging her closer until her tongue was almost touching her wetness. She looked up at the blonde, her eyes clenched closed, waiting and waiting for Emily to do anything and everything.
She stuck her tongue out, silently dedicating herself to making her cum harder than she ever had in her life. The other paramores in her life would feel like vague memories, worshipping Jennifer Jareau would fuel her till the end, and she would be content to do nothing more than that for her remaining days.
Emily wanted JJ to be hers and only hers. She finally closed her mouth over JJ’s mound, getting ready to rock her world and devour her sweet pus-
Emily’s eyes opened to a familiar ceiling, the cold chill of her apartment came flooding into her body, the dream had been so, so vivid, her heart was still pounding in her chest and she was pretty sure the thin silk shorts she had slept in were soaked all over again. Breathless sighs left her mouth as she laid there, unable to move.
That dream—she hadn’t had one for years, not since Andrew. He was gone though; she was alone.
“Why now?” She whispered to herself, rubbing her eyes.
But of course, everytime her relationships end, it's always JJ she comes back to, always JJ she imagines, always JJ she wants, needs.
She looked over her shoulder as she sat up, her head aching. It had been years since she’d thought of JJ like that. In those years between leaving and then watching JJ leave to New Orleans, her feelings were pushed to the back of her mind.
Memories flooded back, her laugh, her smile when she caught Emily looking at her. The nights they’d spend in dirty hostels and hotels in silence, communicating without ever speaking a word. The bad days they’d spend in each other's company after a nightmare or a bad case or a fight with Will.
What had triggered it? Nothing truly had changed, I mean, besides;
“It gives me, you”
Emily shook her head. There was no way in hell that Jennifer, who she’d known for almost two decades, confessing her love to her. It was a friendly gesture. A final plea for her to stay, anyone would say that to her. Tara, Penelope, Rossi. It was platonic. There was no reason for decade long feelings to be brought back up.
The images of JJ lingered, making it hard for Emily to focus. She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, and ran a hand through her tousled hair. ‘Better to be up now than never.’ She told herself, pushing up off the bed.
Silence in the apartment was normal, Sergio was long moved out to Penelope’s apartment; she didn’t have the heart to ask for him back.
Emily shuffled to the bathroom, the cool tiles on her toes sending a shiver up her spine. She splashed water on her face, the wet, cold, water reminding her of-
Nope, not going there again.
Looking in the mirror, she saw her reflection staring back at her, looking as troubled as she felt. She hadn't had a full eight hours of sleep in years, but her sleeping habits were worse now than ever. Her mind was haunted by pictures of Doug, Stephen, Louise. Everyone she had managed to kill. Her hair was grey, but there never would be, and that was no-one's fault but her own.
“Get it together, Emily,” she muttered, gripping the sink until her knuckles turned white.
With a deep breath, she steadied herself and turned to leave the bathroom. As she walked back to her bedroom, she squinted her eyes, the room coming fully into view. The lights were still off, darkness covering the room like a blanket.
The scone in the bathroom lit up, Emily gasped as she saw a body, laid under her duvet. No words came out even when she tried. Emily racked her brain for any reason why a woman was deep in sleep in the comfort of her bed. She couldn’t even remember last night, and definitely couldn’t remember the last time she got laid.
The question of who it was snuggled under her covers was more concerning. She could only assume it was a woman, since Mendoza, she hadn’t gone near a man romantically and she couldn’t find it in herself to believe that Luke or Dave would be in her bed. The person in question seemed just a bit too tall to be Penelope, and yet, too short to be Tara. JJ? It can’t be, these days, JJ was just as busy as she was.
The more she tried to come up, the more the same thought came up in her mind.
‘Please don’t be JJ,
They’d been through too much for a one night stand to ruin their relationship.’ Emily took a deep breath, thoughts drifting to this morning, and anything she could remember about last night.
‘Please be JJ.’
Emily froze where she stood, her left hand pointer finger in her mouth, biting down on the fleshy part to stop herself from giving into her anxiety. She looked over the bed, standing up on her tiptoes to find any clue of who was in her bed. A loud, soft groan emerged from the covers and light, blonde hair fanned out across the pillows, the soft lines of the woman's face looking oddly like JJ’s.
‘JJ’s married,
married to Will,
with two kids.’
‘JJ doesn’t love me. It can’t be her. It won’t be her.’ She rationalised.
Emily's breath caught in her throat as she tried to piece together the previous night. She racked her brain, struggling to remember if there had been any interaction with JJ. Her mind raced, replaying blurry images and half-remembered conversations, but nothing seemed to make sense. The dream though…It’d make sense why these dreams were coming back.
Taking a few reluctant steps forward, she reached out to gently shake the woman's shoulder, her hand hesitating. It definitely wasn’t the first time she had a random woman in her bed; for years she would go under the guise of ‘trying to find the perfect man’ and then sneaking off to the bathroom with the blonde stranger across the bar and fucking her until neither of them could remember their own names.
The woman shifted slightly, revealing more of her face. Emily's heart pounded louder in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears.
Nope
Not dealing with this.
The door closed softly behind her as she went to go brew as much coffee as she could consume in the next hour. Pressing the buttons, the machine came to life, offering up, what Emily would say, was too many options. She watched the machine, letting the easy, simple choice of black coffee calm her anxiety. The soft hum of the coffee machine filled the room. It was easy to return her to her usual morning routine. Without a blonde, ‘JJ lookalike’ in her bed. She tapped her fingers impatiently, playing out the tune of landslide by fleetwood mac. Though, her mind had other plans, dragging her back to her damning thoughts.
“Your turn, baby,” Jennifer purred, her hands raking through Emily’s hair as she placed an array of kisses down her neck. “On the bed.”
Emily hurried to sit on the edge of the bed, awaiting JJ’s wrathe. A wave of anxiety and hopefulness coursed through her veins at the promise of pleasure. Her teeth clamped down on her own plump bottom lip, watching JJ get ready for her, preparing the polyester straps of the large, red, cock attached to her.
She could hardly tear her eyes away.
That dream. God, different versions of it had been happening for years, ever since she locked eyes with JJ’s baby blue eyes and her stupidly beautiful smirk that she wanted to kiss off her face. Not to mention her gorgeous blonde locks that Emily just craved to tug on while the other was down on her knees, red and bruised.
She knew it was wrong, her own best-friend; her married best friend at that, but god–Emily had loved JJ since what felt like the beginning of time. Usually, after the dreams, Emily would isolate herself, cut herself off from JJ, hide away. She felt like a sick predator. She felt like she was turning into those stereotypes; the thought transporting herself back to Rome when she kissed a girl for the first time and was ridiculed and mercilessly abused.
She watched as JJ dripped cold lube onto the strap-on, smirking when she saw a thick, red blush flicker on Emily’s face. “Lie back, sweetheart.” Their eyes met as Jennifer climbed on the bed, on top of Emily. Her arms came up to hold onto JJ’s small frame and bring her as close as possible.
“Please. Jennifer.” Her pleadings; loud and desperate, begging to get fucked properly, better than any man could. Soon enough, JJ settled above Emily, one hand holding the dick inbetween her legs, waiting until Emily was prepared enough to enter. “Are you ready?” A flicker of worry went over JJ’s face, a contrast to her usual facade of dominance. Emily nodded, gripping the bed sheets wishing it was JJ’s shoulders that she was digging into.
Jennifer glided a kiss over Emily’s lips, delving her tongue deep inside, letting Emily relax and release control. She lingered her tongue around Emily’s tight mouth as if she was mapping out every part of her body; going over every scar, every tattoo, every nick of a razor while shaving, every single part of her body, just show Emily how much she loved her.
Emily could feel a blunt pressure between her legs, pushing into her with little resistance – in seconds JJ had bottomed out, the base of the strap-on hitting Emily’s thighs, a loud low moan escaped them both and from that JJ began fucking into her in her earnest.
The grip JJ had on her thighs was bruising and her pace was brutal, using all her force to roughly fuck Emily into the mattress. “Mine,” She roughly stated.
“You — You are mine, Emily.” She tilted her head down to bite into the older woman’s neck and mark her as her eyes finally fluttered closed “I love you”–
“Emily Prentiss,” She whipped her head towards the noise, steading herself palming her shirts, forgetting she wasn’t wearing her gun holster. For a split second, the panic set in. It took her right back to 2011. “Leaving me alone in bed, again.”
But there was no criminal, no threat, no life altering situation, just Jill — Jill fucking Gideon standing in the doorway. Emily's breath caught in her throat as she met Jill’s gaze, her mind racing to find words that could explain what she had just experienced.
It definitely wasn’t on her bucket-list to sleep with Jill, again. It had all started back when she was 38. It was the year Matthew died, she had been wallowing in her pity, alone in a bar, John hadn’t returned her calls, and she couldn’t have cared less.
It was typical of him, ruin her and then run away. But she missed her friend, he was the only other person who seemed to understand her besides Matthew, but Matthew was dead and she wasn’t, to live in this world was to ruin herself.
She remembered clutching the necklace Matthew got her all those years ago in Rome, a gold square with a small cross lasered into it.
When Matthew started questioning his faith, he started scratching off the crucifix, and once he’d finally broken free of his faith, he had given it to Emily.
That night, she sat at the bar, Jill had found her, a broken woman. One drink led to another, and before Emily knew it, they had ended up in bed. It was a mistake.
She was Gideon’s ex-wife, it was wrong. No matter how many times Emily told herself she’d stay away, not lean into Jill’s touch, not seek her out after a long hard day, eventually she’d come crawling back into the older woman’s arms.
Something in her mind told her that she began sleeping with Jill Gideon because of how she reminded her of JJ, the fire in her eyes, the hair, the way she made Emily feel like the most important person in the world in those very brief moments of intimacy.
When she came back from Paris, when JJ got married, when she finally realised JJ wouldn't love her back, and she went to leave, she contacted Jill, told her their arrangement was over and that she was leaving. Jill wouldn’t be a surrogate for JJ any longer. She wouldn’t sleep with her again, her mind focused on ridding herself of thoughts of Jennifer in any way but platonic.
After Jason died, Jill was the first to tell her the news, she was lounging in her apartment in London and eating takeout, alone; when she got a text from a number she hadn’t looked at in years.
‘Jason’s dead.’
That night, she sat in her own misery, downing bottles of wine as if they were water. Emily thought back to when she first met him, fresh-faced at the BAU, still haunted by early memories of Ian Doyle, but not fearing him. She remembers seeing Jason’s face, uncaring and aggravated at her presence; she didn’t take it personally.
But as she got to know him for that one, overlapping year they were together in the unit, she learned to love Jason Gideon.
He’d play chess with her when Spencer was asleep on the jet; complimenting her skills. Muttering a ‘Good job kid’ and a smile. He’d look out for her in cases, putting himself in danger instead of her. At first, she truly didn’t know Jason had been married to Jill, but as she put the pieces together, she realised how she fucked up.
Yet here they were, years later, history repeating itself. Emily’s pulse quickened as she tried to make sense of her feelings. Jill’s presence was both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of a time she wished she could erase. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as Emily felt her hangover. “God – Dave is going to kill me.” She groaned, palming her head as Jill walked closer, lust and desire evident in her eyes.
“Let’s not think of David Rossi right now,” Jill grabbed Emily’s chin gently and tilted it down, dominance radiating off of her. “Or ever. And, especially not after last night.” She smirked and leant in closer. Jill’s tongue slipped in her mouth in a hungry, possessive kiss that left Emily moaning out loud, yearning for more.
“Are you alright Emily?” The question caught her by surprise, she was too caught up in the previous kiss to do anything but nod. She threw herself back into it, she wanted Jill more than anything right now. She moved her body, pressing Jill up against the kitchen counter and grinding her hips, needing the friction of their bodies to satisfy her.
“God, Emily,” Jill groaned lowly, biting at Emily’s bottom lip, switching their positions so the latter woman was pinned against the counter. “You’re just as submissive as before, aren’t you?” She spoke after a whine left Emily’s mouth.
Emily melted into the contact, her mind hazy. Her body shivered at the feel of Jill’s cold hand touching her skin. She could barely think straight. “Mmm…coffee–” Emily suddenly said when they broke away, both their eyes were dark with need.
“I made coffee.”
Jill chuckled, her breath still warm against Emily’s lips. “Coffee can wait,” she murmured, but the glint in her eyes softened. “Or maybe not.” She pulled back slightly, her hand sliding down Emily’s arm. “Let’s have coffee, and then we can talk about what this means.”
Emily nodded, grateful for the sudden break. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, reminding her what time it was so she wouldn't end up in bed with Jill again. As they stood together in the kitchen, the tension between them still palpable, Emily realised that whatever came next, she couldn’t run from it any longer.
Part of her was glad it was Jill she woke up next to and not a complete stranger, she wouldn’t have to build up temporary walls and hope her companion was too drunk to remember where she lived or even her number.
“Got to be at the office at 8,” Emily moved to grab the coffee pot, her hand touching the hot part and then subsequently burning herself with the sensation of heat, “We also need you to look through some files.” Her hand stilling as if she was going to ask something.
Jill made a non-committal sound and found her way to the quaint kitchen table, sitting down and watching Emily’s movements. She fiddled with the soft fabric of the t-shirt she had put on late last night. “You could come in with me, no need to catch a ride later.”
Emily continued pouring coffee into their cups. Not making eye contact with her and instead focusing on leaving the perfect amount of room for her splenda. She half-hazardly reached up into her medicine cabinet, taking out her packet of propranolol and taking 2 thin tablets. She had a long overhaul of medicine; forgetting to take the pills in proper time.
“Here.” She said, handing Jill the cup and sitting in the chair across from her. Jill took a sip, her eyes never leaving Emily’s face.
“That sounds like a plan,” The older woman said, her tone casual but her gaze intense. “We should talk about last night, though. And about us.”
Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She had known this conversation was inevitable, but she didn't think it would happen so soon; she thought that maybe she’d have the afternoon to prepare a statement like she was back on the debate team.
“Yeah, we should,” she replied softly. “This can’t be just a repeat of what happened fourteen years ago. Too much has changed.” Emily’s face scrunched up holding in her true words.
I changed, my feelings changed.
Jill nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you.” A smirk etched onto Jill’s face as she saw the resigned expression on Emily’s face. “Good for you! I was wondering when you’d finally accept it.”
“I’m not in love with her.” Emily said with an unfocused stare. “Not anymore.”
“Listen,” She began, hand falling atop Emily’s, her thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin that made her think back to the nights they used to share together in Emily’s old apartments. “I think, as long as we discuss some boundaries we can go back to our old arrangement.”
A purr fell from Jill’s lips “If you’re up for that.” a predatory gaze still on her face. Her core is growing hotter and wetter from the implication.
She clenched her sticky thighs and tried to keep her thoughts holy. Emily took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I am up for that,” she admitted, her voice low.
“But we have to be clear on those boundaries. No letting emotions get in the way. It has to be a secret.” She looked down at her coffee cup, watching the swirling liquid.
Jill nodded, her smirk softening into a more genuine smile. “Obviously.” She rolled her eyes and got up, placing her cup in the sink and then leaning in, her eyes locking onto Emily’s. “I’m all for communication,” she whispered, her breath warm against Emily’s lips.
“But right now, I think we need to finish what we started.” Emily felt a shiver run down her spine as Jill’s lips brushed against hers. She felt a hand grasp her chin, pulling her gaze up to Jill’s face.
Emily batted her eyelashes; she always enjoyed relinquishing control.
“Now,” Her firm voice left her quivering, “Be a good girl and get down on your knees.”
The elevator opened; it was 8:29AM, her hair was messy, no matter how much she brushed it down you could still see how Jill tangled her fingers in it, there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead and a smile on the edge of her lips.
Next to her, Jill stood quietly, surveying her surroundings, once again trying to keep her distance but was sporting a sly glint in her eyes.
Emily only took a few steps out the elevator, Jill trailing behind her, clutching her bag. When Penelope came barreling out of her office, concern was written all over her face.
“Oh…Jill! Hello!” Garcia exclaimed, pulling into another tight hug. Her eyes peered over the blonde's shoulder to see Emily trying to sneak away into the bull-pen.
“You’re late!” A frown forced its way onto Garcia’s face. “You, Emily Prentiss, are never late.”
She took one look at Penelope and sighed, trying to regain her composure. “Yeah, I’m sorry Penelope, there was traffic.” She tried to keep her eyes straight on Garcia.
She knew the woman wasn’t a profiler, but she would’ve picked up enough tricks by now to tell something was up.
She took the moment to smooth out her hair, combing her fingers through the strands before facing David’s wrathe. If he found out about their hookup, he’d never trust her again.
She couldn’t lose another father figure.
“Mhm…traffic.” She gave Emily a goofy smile, her hands going back to her phone. “Rossi is looking for you, pretty sure he’s about to start a manhunt.”
“Thanks Garcia.” She replied with a graceful smile, but her thoughts were elsewhere. As she stepped into the bullpen, Emily's focus shifted immediately to Rossi, scanning the area to gauge his location.
Jill stayed behind with Penelope; Emily trusted she wouldn’t slip up.
Spotting him just outside his office. She adjusted her stride, aiming to intercept him before he could launch into a full-fledged interrogation about her whereabouts.
"Morning, Rossi," Emily greeted with a hint of urgency in her voice, hoping to steer the conversation swiftly away from any discussion about her punctuality. She kept her gaze steady.
Rossi, ever perceptive, raised an eyebrow at Emily's brisk approach. "You're cutting it close today," he remarked with a knowing look, though he chose not to press further.
Emily exhaled quietly and glanced over her shoulder to find Jill, who had paused just inside the bullpen, watching their interaction with curiosity.
Their eyes met briefly, a silent exchange passing between them that spoke volumes of the unspoken tension hanging in the air.
Emily’s gaze briefly landed on JJ, working quietly until Luke saddled up beside her desk. She was certain JJ didn't even glance her way when she walked through, which hurt more than any bullet could.
A few nights ago, when they got high out of their minds in Penelope’s apartment. She thought that the moment they shared would be enough to fix their strained relationship or at least alleviate some tension.
“I need to speak to you.” His voice was thick and raspy, anger seething out of him when he caught a glimpse of Jill again.
“Alright.” Dreading the conversation, she forced her way to walk into his office; feeling like a child again, dreading the days when her mother would lock the door and scream, and scream, and scream about whatever she did wrong this time.
Elizabeth Prentiss was a complex woman, you could do no right in her eyes, only wrong. For the first few decades of her life, she blamed catholicism. Her mother was a devout catholic and brought Emily up as such, but the more she searched and searched, she realised.
It wasn’t Catholicism that made her mother deranged and filled with anger, it was her. She had ruined her mothers free spirit and gentleness; she had made an unforgivable sin, being born. Her love is a sin and she would rather burn than refute it.
David sat down, taking a deep breath and looked at Emily, trying to calm his emotions. “Why.” He dragged a hand down his face, slightly covering his mouth. “Why did you contact Jill?” The bright light reflected off his wedding band. Her heart melted at the thought of Krystal.
“I–”
“I don’t want an excuse, Emily, I want to know why you went against me with this.”
“I–I didn’t ‘Go against you’ I made a call, I decided that Jill would be an important resource for this case, one that could help solve it,” She furrowed her brow “Besides, I’m your boss.”
Rossi's eyes narrowed, the tension in the room escalating. "Yes, you're the boss," he acknowledged slowly, his voice low and measured. "But I asked you to do one thing. Do not bother a woman who’s lost everything to this unit."
Emily felt a flush of anger and defensiveness rising, her patience waning as well. These days everyone was against her, all she had left was herself. The majority of the team no longer trusted her judgement.
Luke’s anger and mistrust. Her inability to protect JJ. Rossi was quite literally spiralling. Penelope was shutting everyone out. Tara was – well Tara didn’t have much going on. The office went silent, she didn’t trust herself to speak, feeling the lump in her throat getting bigger and her fury rising as the seconds passed.
“Do you have a minute?” The door swung open, breaking the tension. JJ stood there. "Am I interrupting something?"
Dave and Emily both turned to look at her, giving them a moment to collect themselves. Emily straightened her shoulders, grateful for the distraction. "No, Jayje, it’s fine, we were just...discussing things."
JJ glanced between them, sensing the strained atmosphere. "Well, I have something. Tara and Luke are waiting.” Emily looked down at JJ’s hands, still covered by a sweater. The guilt pooled in her stomach.
She’d noticed how JJ was covering up more of her body, wearing more conservative clothes, delaying how often she was in public. Emily couldn’t help feeling like it was her fault; This could’ve all been avoided if she had told Jennifer. Another part of her said this was all inevitable.
Ian Doyle filled her head, his fingertips brushing across her breasts, savouring every uncomfortable moment and every inhale of air that pushed her up into his hands. His dark smile as he mutilated her, stabbing the scorching brand into her pale skin, forcing his own symbol upon her, owning her.
His gaze lingering on her body all those years ago; disturbing and painful. She knew what it was like to have unwanted eyes on her, partly why she felt the need to protect her.
When she fell asleep at night she could still hear the sizzling of her skin, smell her own burning flesh and his maniacal smile staring down at her.
“I’ll be right there,” Emily said, her voice steadier than she felt. She took a deep breath, turning back to Rossi. “We’ll finish this later,” she stated firmly, not giving him a chance to respond before she headed towards the door.
Rossi watched her go, his jaw clenched. He knew the pressure she was under. Emily was a good leader, but sometimes, she let her emotions cloud her judgement. He sighed, following her out of the office.
Glancing behind her at Rossi following her, she saw a glint of sadness in his eyes. ‘Walls. Put more walls up.’ She told herself. Not willing to have another breakdown in this building.
Emily needed to focus on the case.
Pushing open the door, she found Tara and Luke already deep in discussion, with JJ joining them. The tension from earlier still lingered, but Emily forced herself to focus.
“What have we got?” She asked, moving to stand at the head of the table, peering round at everyone. Checking for any signs of instability. God knows Rossi wasn’t the only one suffering.
Tara looked up, her eyes scanning Emily’s face for a moment before she spoke. “We don’t think Jade and Damien will resurface again, until Voit re-contacts them.”
“We’ve been focusing on getting a real confession out of Voit.” JJ looks her in the eyes, the pain and heartache they both felt a few nights ago in Penelope's apartment, now forgotten and faded away. The feeling irked her body. That confession – if you could even call it a confession – brought up all the feelings she worked so hard to bury away.
Luke chimed in, “Since Voit’s deal is still being discussed with his lawyer, and he’s guarding himself even more, we need to get a new tactic.” He spoke, eyes lingering on the shipping container photos, and Voit’s smug fucking face.
"Alright," Emily began, her tone brisk yet focused. "Let's leverage what we know about Voit. His lawyer's involvement tells us he's being more cautious, but he's not immune to pressure, especially if it's strategic." She glanced around at Tara, Luke, and JJ, not trusting herself to look at Rossi without breaking down or punching that old man in his face.
Tara nodded thoughtfully. "We could use the leverage of his connection with Jade and Damien. Voit's protective of them, and he knows they could implicate him further."
“Huh.” Luke looked up, "If we can exploit that fear, perhaps we can manoeuvre him into a corner where a confession is his best option."
JJ picked up the tablet in front of her, swiping through the Gold star killers, her voice steady unlike her covered hands. "We also have to consider the emotional angle. Voit might be calculating, but he's not emotionless. He has vulnerabilities we can exploit. His wife, kids, Holly especially."
Emily nodded, her eyes set on JJ. "Let's pull together everything we have on Voit—his financials, his contacts, his habits. We need to anticipate his next move and be ready to intercept."
It gives me, you.
It gives me , you.
It gives me, you?
Was it just a tactic to get her to stay, to not quit and realise how much she loved the BAU? Or was Jennifer Jareau in love with her…?
No, she couldn’t be, JJ is married, JJ has kids, and JJ is not in-love with Emily Prentiss. She has the perfect life, a happy husband and two adorable kids; everything Emily thought she had wanted herself until she realised it would never happen.
If she was, if JJ was in-love with her, she would know about it, she’d be aware.
JJ nodded, already pulling out her phone. “On it.”
“I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.” She nodded, her gaze lingering a bit longer on JJ, hoping for just a split-second glance to profile. But nothing.
Emily made her way out of the conference room with a long sigh, but was stopped by Tara, a grin placated on her face. “You look…happy?”
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion…what was she hiding. If Tara could sense something was up, they all could, and that scared Emily more than she could care to admit; not just the fact she was sleeping with Jill now, but they could all in time figure out why she was sleeping with Jill.
“Is that a question?” Emily rolled her eyes, humouring Tara for the time being.
“You know what I mean,” Tara spoke with a goofy smirk plastered on her face “You haven’t been this happy in a long time, and I mean a long time–”
“Yeah, yeah, Tara, I get it.” She jokingly shoved Tara, chuckling softly at her teasing, though inwardly she felt a slight pang of discomfort at her observations.
If Tara found out, Penelope found out, then god knows JJ and Luke would find out; then she’d die for real this time when Rossi would find out.
‘How miserable do I look on a daily basis if people are shocked that I'm happy?’
“So…who’s the lucky guy,” Emily tsk’d and watched as that small slip-up caused a change in Tara’s entire demeanour. “…Or girl.”
It wasn’t like she hid her sexuality; she just never really spoke about it, or thought about it recently. What did it matter? It wasn’t any of their business. If Tara wanted to be out and proud about her sexuality, that was fine, she was happy for her but Emily could honestly not care less about hers.
Sure, her childhood was filled with some ridicule, and hiding her lesbianism from herself and others might have tarnished her self-image and self-esteem. But she didn't care. I mean, what was she supposed to say:
‘Hey team! I’ve realised after a lifetime and a half of dating men that actually I only like women and I've been hooking up with women this entire time, including Gideon’s ex-wife. Also Jayje, I think I've been in love with you for the last 18 years!’
Not like that would go well.
She only hoped that Tara didn’t notice the way she had been looking at Jill the day before.
“Okay, Okay, but,” She put her hands up in mock-surrender, “If you ever need to ‘talk’ if you know what I mean.” She winked. “I’m all ears.”
“Thank you. Now get back to work.” She patted Tara on the shoulder, trying to hide her obvious blush. Emily wandered over to Rossi’s empty handed and left with an extra ninety pounds and a lack of sight.
As Emily lugged around two heavy brown boxes, very similar to the one she brought when she first joined the BAU, she found Jill sitting on the couch, already deep into sorting through an old box of BAU files. She had her thick glasses on and was very carefully examining some of those papers, her rough hand sat atop one of her knees.
Emily took a moment to admire her; the lines on her face were deeper and more defined, but her eyes were still just as dark and intense.
She set down her box of evidence files on the desk and walked over to join Jill. "Finding anything interesting?" Emily asked, trying to avert her gaze from the other woman. She had to actually get work done and not try to jump her bones all day.
Jill looked up with a small smile. "A few old cases, not seeing anyone taking out the white papers yet.”
Emily nodded, picking up a file and scanning through it. They worked in silence min, Emily couldn't shake off Tara's teasing. She knew Tara meant well, but she realised how much more careful she had to be around, well, everyone.
Emily focused on the details of the case files in front of her. If they could find out who viewed the paper, they could find out who created stuart house, then finally this goddamn case would be over and she could finally relax and not have to deal with Elias Voit ever again and that alone would be the best blessing anyone could ask for.
“You must know how much I hate being here, but I must ask,” Jill broke the silence, her tone thoughtful. "Is Voit's lawyer going to advise him to stay silent?"
Emily flipped through the pages of a file, stilling for a moment. "Possibly, but Voit's too calculating to stay completely silent. He'll want to control the narrative somehow."
"Agreed," Jill replied, words on the page, catching her eye. "Maybe you can use that to your advantage."
Emily hummed in agreement. They continued to sit in silence, the only sound the flickering of paper and the opening of boxes and files. Hours passed, the silence consuming her, everything about her becoming restless. Everytime she looked at Jill, for a split second she would feel like everything she did was for nothing.
Jill had gone back to being her surrogate for JJ, her own terrifying feelings had come back and started consuming her though she’d never admit that, even to herself. There is nothing she could ever do that would make them be together and yet. She still yearns for her.
Everyday Emily sees JJ happy without her, a part of her breaks. Those nights of practised silence may have made JJ feel nothing, but she always will; Deep in every intimate wound that is opened.
In some twisted reality, she revels in the days she’s miserable. Knowing she isn’t happy without her. She wants to feel her knees buckle under her, to feel the scrape of the dirt on her own skin, so when the time comes she shall look up into her eyes, void of emotion and feel somewhat at peace with their contact.
Her relationship with Jill in 2007 was purely sex, they’d fuck in the dark of night, whenever convenient. And, yes, maybe sometimes, in the time between the sun falling and rising when Emily would wake up from a nightmare about god-knows-what she’d seek comfort in Jill arms, feeling safe in the hold she’d have on her young, sinless body. Jill would circle the tattoo on her hip, running her thumb over the dark lines and intricacies of the design to soothe her. Her body, not yet scarred from the job.
In the dark of the night, all those years ago, she would imagine it was Jennifer holding her, caressing her body, whispering ‘It’s okay.’ to her. Now, she only wishes those images would get out of her mind.