She sat him down, his ankles and wrists bound to the wooden chair that had been placed in the centre of the room. I had never witnessed her do it any other way. With every single victim, I observed a new side of the other woman in the room. I knew that if she had known I was profiling her she wouldn't have been happy about it, but there were so many things about Emily Prentiss that I had never noticed before. The way she tightened the restraints on her victim's wrists just a little too tight, enough to make their fingers begin to turn purple before the deed was finished, the way that her brown eyes darkened in arousal at what was to come, the way she paced but not in nervousness. No. Like a lioness she paced with intent, her eyes never leaving her prey. The brunette paced with intent to kill, and the only time those brown eyes left the man was when they flicked up to look at me.

We were complete opposites; I radiated innocence and had the ability to create a naive aura whereas my counterpart played the dominatrix. She was intimidating, with dark features, she drew her shoulders back while she walked and made sure that everyone knew that she was the one in charge. The brunette could make anyone to shrink back into their corner or take another look at her. Emily Prentiss demanded attention as soon as she walked in a room, and that was exactly what she did best.

I took my normal position behind the man who was tied to the chair, my blonde hair falling in ringlets over my shoulders. Waiting for the cue that I knew would come all too soon, I tapped my foot impatiently on the ground. We had been waiting for so long for another one… Now that we had finally caught him, the women of Houston would be safe. Repeatedly, I ran the profile through my mind; white male, mid-thirties, four murders, all young, blonde women in their late twenties, rape was evident on each one, and each found with their throats cut from ear to ear. It was something that I needed to do at a time like this, something to calm the worst of my nerves. Those women were me. I was seeing myself in those profiles, and this was something we had to do to keep others safe. Emily didn't like that. She didn't like the fact that this unsub was targeting her Jennifer Jareau. Hers. The thought made my heart skip a beat every single time.

Having been lost in my thoughts, I had missed Emily's first cue, prompting the older woman to clear her throat in order to beckon me back to her. Immediately I snapped out of it and sprung into action. Slowly, I walked toward the man from behind, my eyes never leaving my lover's own. My hand reached down the front of his chest as I bent over, the neckline of my dress plunging a little too low as I bent, causing Emily to purr so loud I could hear it from my place in the room. A smirked graced my lips and I turned my face so that I was breathing heavily against the man's ear. Surprisingly, he hadn't said a word… Probably because we hadn't gotten to the fun stuff quite yet. My hand stopped dangerously close to the man's crotch and I could feel him growing harder by the second. It repulsed me to no end. Emily's brown eyes caught my gaze again, however, and I focussed on her yet again, tilting my head down so that I could run my tongue from the base of his jaw up to the bottom of his ear, capturing the lobe between my teeth. Slowly but surely, the man began to tug at the restraints, muffled moans and groans escaping his lips while he tugged. It took all I had not to roll my eyes at his feeble attempts.

I slid onto the man's lap easily, straddling him, my dress riding up dangerously high. The crimson red colour matched the colour on my lips and I couldn't help but to grin at the thought. Red was Emily's favourite colour. The brunette had stalked her way behind the man, watching each and every one of my movements with arousal darkening the look in her eyes. At home, they were a chocolate brown, soft, gentle and caring, but here they were almost black, rimming with lust, want and need. I needed to pick up the pace.

My hips began to move torturously slowly against the man's, soliciting yet another series of groans from his lips. Cautiously, my ocean blue eyes looked to Emily to see her reaction to the sounds he was making. She didn't like noise. She never liked noise. However, it didn't seem to be bothering her now. My eyes returned back to the man's and I grinned, reaching down into one of the thigh high boots that graced my legs, pulling out a tube of lipstick that was the exact same shade of the one that was on my lips. I smirked and leaned in, at first starting to apply the lipstick to my own lips before using one hand to tilt the man's head back. Slowly, I began to draw a dotted line from ear to ear, and I grinned with pride as I pulled back to admire my work.

The man lifted his head in confusion, but just before he was able to say anything, Emily came up behind him, roughly removing his tie and fastening it in his mouth as a gag. She liked silent work. Always had, always would. While the man's eyes widened in understanding that something was wrong, Emily walked to my side, taking my face in her hand and turning it so that our lips could press together. Not even the situation could mask the way that Emily Prentiss' lips felt against mine, and I found myself dropping the lipstick on the ground so that my hands could grip her wrists, bidding her not to stop. Her tongue dove into my mouth and began to search all of the places that it knew so well, and I found my hips moving at a much more aggressive pace. I wanted her. Fuck. I needed her. My hands tightened on the older woman's wrists, my eyes staying shut as we stayed there in pure bliss for a few moments, our lips never once leaving each others. When Emily finally pulled back because of the man's constant murmurings through the gag, I found myself giving the smallest of whimpers and my hands attempted to pull her back in, but the brunette refused. She smirked at me, and then flicked her brown eyes down to my boot again. Only the two of us knew of the last of the contents in there, and this was where the fun stuff came into play.

I watched Emily retreat back to her place behind me, the first position she had stood in, the place she would stay, and then my attention was back on this man. This sick, sick son of a bitch. My hands wanted to wrap around his throat, to squeeze the life out of him, to watch him writhe beneath me… But that was not in the plan. That was not what was to happen. So I reached into my boot, pulling out a switchblade, and removed it from its sheath. My head cocked to the side while I stilled my hips and pulled back slightly. Very gently, I began to run the knife over the man's body, starting from his thighs and moving up his abdomen, the blade never leaving the fabric of his clothing. He began to squirm, so I leaned in and shushed him, taking his earlobe between my teeth again as I neared his collarbones. The blade was beginning to press ever so gently through the fabric of his shirt, and the more he struggled, the harder I was sure to press. When I could see the blood seeping through his shirt, I shook my head and spoke deeply against his ear.

"That'll only make it worse…" I whispered and bit down much harder on his earlobe, the knife starting from his right collarbone and ending on his left. The cut was deep enough that blood was beginning to drip, and as soon as the scent hit me, my eyes practically rolled back into my head. It was as though I was a shark and he was the wounded seal, and I was ready to attack. I knew that it was not meant to end that way, however, and I looked up from the work I had done on the man I straddled. A smirk drew all the way across my lips as I looked to Emily and I put an innocent look on my face while I pulled the knife from my victim's chest. Our victim's chest. I twirled the knife between my fingers and then, as one droplet of blood began to drip down the dull side, I made direct eye contact with her and began to drag my tongue along it, capturing the dripping blood as I did so. The colour matched both my dress and the colour of my lips perfectly, and I knew my partner would love it. Once I made it all the way back up to the top of the switchblade, capturing as much of the crimson liquid on my tongue as I could, I stood up gingerly and sweetly looked to Emily, my head cocked to the side and the knife outstretched towards her.

"How would you like to have some fun?"