Title: Skin
Author: wildwordwomyn
Word Count: 1,361
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ/Garcia
Prompt: any femmeslash pairing, tentative exploring
Kink: first times
Prompter: emmademarais
Rating: NC-17 for adult situations, including (YAY!) grrlsex.
Author's Notes: Um, none? I started writing and this is what resulted. You like? By the way, got the story title from Melissa Etheridge's "Skin".
Disclaimers/Warnings: Not real. You know that right? And I only wish I was getting paid for this!
Summary: Garcia gets shot by a bad guy. JJ shoots the bad guy in return. What happens next is only natural.
Gotta say that getting shot? Yeah, not my idea of fun. Really. I know being the resident computer tech-slash-hacker-slash-goddess at the BAU has its perks, but a bullet wound isn't high on the list. Anyone who tells you it is just may be an actual wolf in sheep's clothing…
"How's my baby girl?"
"If I were better I'd be craving a chocolate bar…" I wink playfully.
Score 1 for Garcia! Derek shakes his head, amused as always. He helps me to my desk and guides me into my chair. That man has some sweet manners when it comes to the ladies. I blow him a kiss that he pretends to catch before he goes back to his own little corner of profiler hell. Hotch and Rossi are next in line to check in on me during my first morning back, followed closely by Spencer, who gives me the most endearingly awkward hug known to humankind and a half-smile to match. Emily, otherwise known as The Eye, squeezes me gently and for a second I almost cry. Behind that Eye is a heart of gold…
"Hey," comes a soft voice. I finish logging into my terminal, wondering where the pause I just experienced came from. "How are you?" When I look up my throat closes. JJ looks at me directly, but her eyes shine eerily.
"Well, there won't be any break dancing for a while. But I was never very good at it anyway." My grin doesn't provoke anything in response. "Thank you, JJ, for what you did…" I say, have been saying for the past month, will probably keep saying for at least another month more. I don't know if I'll ever be able to properly show my gratitude for taking out The Bad Man Who's Name We Dare Not Speak.
"It's been too quiet around here with you gone, you know that?" Finally a hint of a curl in the corners of her mouth. She leans against the wall facing me, apparently unaware of this, this, tension that builds between us whenever we're together anymore. "We've missed you…" I fight not to seem disappointed until she finishes with, "I've missed you." It's firm, her tone. The words deliberate. My wound twinges a little.
"I've missed you, too." And somehow, for the moment, this is enough.
The rest of the day passes more quickly than I expect it to without pain medication. But I shouldn't be surprised. There are always homicides in our midst. People to profile. Victims to be found. Research to be done. Hacking to be had. My fingers don't forget their dear friends as they fly over the keys. My friends don't forget about me as they fetch water, dropped pens, Kleenex and the like. Even Reid walks me to the restroom, which, of course, makes me laugh hard enough to almost bust a couple stitches. When it's time to go home everyone asks if I need a ride, but only JJ does it in a whisper. This decidedly wins her the honor.
When we arrive at my apartment she helps me out of her Range Rover and holds my arm up the walkway. At my front door she holds out a tan, slender hand. I drop my keys into the waiting palm and cough to cover up my smile. Once inside she checks every room for intrusion. Unfortunately this is a quick job since I live in a single. She pronounces it all clear, then starts to leave.
"Wait, I…JJ….." I have no idea what to say to make her stay. One of the best in the country and I can't think of a single thing.
"Tea?"
"Huh?" I'm sure my expression speaks for itself.
"Do you have any tea? If you do I'd love a cup."
Before I can even answer she walks over to the kitchen and rummages through my cabinets looking for a kettle, tea bags and mugs. When she finds what she needs she goes about the preparation with an intent it doesn't deserve. I watch her for a while. Her blonde hair swaying against her shoulders, her hands calm and confident as they measure out sugar and creamer, her pants-covered legs whistling against each other. I don't mean to do it but I end up in the kitchen behind her, leaning silently against her as she leans against the granite countertop. When she turns to kiss me I don't stop her. Her lips are tender, soft, sweet.
"Garcia?" she whispers into my mouth. "What are we doing?" Her eyes are so round I think I might drown in them.
"I don't know," I answer.
"I killed a man. I'm a killer." Her forehead meets mine as she sighs.
"No. You protect the people who can't protect themselves. That makes you a warrior." I steal a quick kiss.
"Warrior?" She chuckles, and for the first time in the past month she sounds as though she's laughing like she means it.
"Samurai? Soldier? Xena?" This gets a small, girly giggle out of her. Score 2 for Garcia!
"You're crazy, you know that?" I grin. Can't deny it. "…I should go."
But JJ doesn't. She stays and proceeds to kiss me until my lips tingle. Until my knees get weak. Until we're both breathing hard. Then she maneuvers us through the apartment to lay down on my bed, a bed that has seen way too little action, and kisses what cleavage shows through the 'v' of my blouse. My collar bone gets it next but I don't complain. I like the pace she's setting. Slow and soft, giving us both a chance to say stop if need be. Of course, the pace also takes away that chance.
When she undresses herself I literally start to drool. Smooth skin, thin arms, strong fingers, slim hips and sleek thighs. Fine golden hair covering nether regions I find I can't wait to explore. She stops me just when I get on my knees to taste her. Instead she moves us so I'm on bottom with her body rubbing mine teasingly. The hair on her head brushes me as if it has a mind of its own, as if my flesh calls out to it. A hand caresses the scar tissue over my wound, which is surprisingly sexy since the healing skin's still sensitive, then down my chest to skim my stomach. Just when I think she'll quit, that my voluptuousness will turn her off, she continues down until a finger plunges into me.
"I'm sorry," she whimpers into the side of my neck, nuzzling. "I have to." I gasp as another finger joins in on the fun, then another. By the time she's done all four fingers are stretching me wide. They slip between what feels like a river of wetness into a rough rhythm that rocks my hips. I move my hand, wrap it around her wrist to pull her out, but I betray myself by pulling her in deeper. The harshness, for both of us, makes it somehow more real.
Oddly enough I understand why she needs this. What's happening here, what's been happening since the shooting, is beyond either of our control. What she doesn't understand, what I'm just now beginning to, is that I'm not sorry in the least. I fist her hair with my free hand and lick her lips open, slide my tongue along her teeth, then kiss her as hungrily as I dare. The first time I had sex I was young and desperate for a man's love. Every time after was a crap shoot. Maybe I got lucky on a rare date. Maybe the guy wanted a favor. This time with JJ is in a league all its own. I climax with a blinding strength and her name on my breath.
Yeah, I admit it. I fall asleep with her hand still in me. I don't mean to because the truth is I want to return the favor, but my body gives out. All I remember before I enter dreamland is her cheek on my scar and her hand over my heart. I think maybe this is all that matters.
