Emily Prentiss was a little tipsy. No wait, that's a lie. She was telling everybody that she was a little tipsy, when in fact she was drunk off her face. If she was to be completely honest, she had no idea whatsoever what was going on around her anymore.
Her head was banging from the loud music and she couldn't really make out the voices of the people around her. She didn't know if she was with her friends or complete strangers, as not only had her ears been affected by the alcohol, but so had her eyes. She could barely open her eyes and when she did her vision was unbelievably bleary.
The brunette decided at that moment, as her insides were dancing and spinning, that she was never drinking a drop of alcohol ever again. She also decided she was going to kill JJ and Garcia for making her come to this stupid house party in the first place. Then she was going to kill Morgan and Rossi for talking her into taking part in those ridiculous drinking games.
That's if she made it through the rest of the night without dying herself.
She needed some air. She wasn't really sure how she managed it, but somehow the female profiler made her way outside and instantly felt a little better, as she breathed in the fresh air. Her back somehow found the rough brick wall and a soft moan left her lips at the pleasurable feeling of the cold brick on her heated skin.
The chill of the night breeze caused her pale skin to pimple, as a shiver travelled through her body. She didn't mind though, she kind of liked the cold.
Emily could feel that somebody was there with her. Her eyes sprang open, but she quickly shut them again as the glare from the nearby street lamp blinded her and caused her head to spin once more.
The brunette's mind travelled away from her mystery guest, as all she could think of was the piercing pain that rattled her brain.
She froze as her thoughts returned to her. She couldn't believe what she was feeling, but it was definitely happening. A pair of soft lips were pressed firmly against her own.
Emily's brain protested and screamed at her to push her intruder away, but her body had other ideas. When the mystery person brought their hands up to wrap them in her hair, her decision was made. Nobody had kissed her like this for such a long time and she needed it. All rational thinking went out the window, or it would have done if they were inside, and the female melted into the kiss.
She had no idea who she was kissing; no idea whatsoever. Male/female, black/white, brunette/blonde/redhead, young/old. But to be honest, she really didn't care. She knew that she should, but she just didn't.
A groan ruptured from her thought, as her make out partner's tongue gently caressed her bottom lip, before plunging into her mouth. Their tongues battled intensely, as they searched each other's depths.
Emily moaned loudly as the stranger's fingers tightened in her hair and she realized her hands were still flat against the wall. Slowly, the profiler brought one hand up and rested it on her partner's back, try to pull him or her impossibly closer.
She still couldn't tell anything about her mystery kisser. Everything was still too fuzzy; damn all the stupid alcohol she consumed.
She tried to open her eyes some and was somewhat successful, but she still couldn't make out who it was that stood before her.
The kiss seemed to last forever but eventually their lips broke apart for just a second and all Emily could focus on was drawing in as much breath as possible. It was a good job she did because her kissing buddy wasted no time invading her mouth again, as his or her hands left her hair and found her hips, pulling her off the wall slightly.
The stranger's mouth was now on Emily's neck and she gasped as they located her pulse point and made sure to drive her completely insane with pleasure.
The unidentified person carefully dragged their hands up Emily's body to her breasts, cupping each one and massaging them softly. This is where Emily was dragged back to reality and it didn't matter how much alcohol was in her, or how much she had been enjoying the moment, this had gone too far. She needed to stop it now, at least until she found out who her mystery partner was.
"Hey." She slurred out in protest, pushing the person away from her.
"Come on, Emily." A familiar voice cooed. "We're just having a bit of fun."
She'd recognize that southern accent anywhere; he'd been with her best friend for years now.
Emily Prentiss had just made out with William LaMontagne.