A/N: So I was watching "Penelope" the other day, and at the end of the episode, I thought to myself, "JJ needs a hug. Someone give JJ a hug." But then no one gave JJ a hug. So I decided that I would make sure that JJ got a hug. Which is literally just my excuse for writing some platonic hurt/comfort between my favorite members of the BAU.
Spoilers: Major for 3x09, "Penelope", and minor for 2x15, "Revelations"
Emily watched as Garcia stepped away from JJ, as their analyst approached the stranger, as the younger woman's face slowly fell back into blankness, and that really wouldn't do at all. She pushed herself away from her desk and crossed the room to JJ.
The media liaison's eyes were up, but she didn't seem to be seeing anything in front of her; her gaze was far more distant, as though looking back through time.
"JJ," Emily said gently, and the other woman's eyes snapped back into focus, and she pulled up the same smile Emily had seen her use on Garcia. The "I'm okay" smile that couldn't quite overcome the "please call me on my bullshit" eyes.
"I'm all right, Emily," JJ said, and Emily just barely kept a flat denial in check.
"I'm not here to question that," Emily said firmly, and truthfully. She didn't need to ask to see that JJ wasn't okay, that some precious bit of the innocence harbored in those sparkling blue eyes, innocence that somehow survived despite the horrors the whole team witnessed daily, had been chipped away by the act of taking a human life, however necessary it had been. "I'm here to say you look like you could use a drink."
JJ grinned, and it was a little more real this time. "Always, if you're buying."
Emily smiled back. "I know just the place."
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"This does not look like a bar." The words, spoken as they pulled up in front of what was obviously an apartment building, were the first since the women had gotten into the car, and JJ saw the side of Emily's mouth twitch in a quick half-smile before her face returned to neutral.
"Looks can be deceiving," the older woman said. "There's a very exclusive place in here with some of the best wine you'll find outside of France. Plus, there's no dress code."
A surprised laugh bubbled out of JJ at that. It didn't really shock her that of all their team, Emily was the one who had seen through her mask. "I guess I compartmentalize better than most people," she had said. It stood to reason that she could see the signs of it in others, especially ones not quite so good at it as herself.
"Really?" JJ asked. "No dress code?"
"Well, Emily conceded, "sometimes the bartender insists on pajamas, but she's always got extras."
JJ smiled—a real smile for the first time all evening. "I suppose that's all right, as long as they're provided."
Emily parked her car and led the way into the building. She held the door for JJ, her flamboyant bow turning an action JJ usually saw as a pantomime of chivalry into a gentle joke to be shared. Silence had descended, but it wasn't until they were in the elevator that JJ began to feel it.
As the doors closed, she felt her weapon in her hands again. As the button lit up, she heard the report of the gun again. As the elevator rose, she saw the deputy sheriff fall again.
When she had originally shot him, there had been no room for anything other than determination and the need to save her team, her family. Now, though, with only the ghosts of sensations left, there was room. Room for fear, for terror. Room for disgust, pain, guilt. Room for anger. Room for loss.
She didn't notice her breath quickening, or her heart racing. She did, however, notice Emily's slim, strong hand wrap around her own once more. The older woman didn't say anything, not yet, but her touch had grounded JJ enough that she didn't jump out of her skin when the elevator dinged.
It was only a few steps from the elevator to Emily's apartment, and she must have had her keys still in her hand, because they were inside in seconds. The door shut behind them, and it was only as Emily pulled her into a tight hug that JJ realized how hard she was shaking.
"I've got you, JJ," Emily murmured. "I've got you. Just breathe."
JJ clung to Emily, letting herself tremble, letting the profiler be her solid ground, her anchor. "It's like with the dog," JJ mumbled into the older woman's shoulder, "only worse." She had no idea if Emily remembered, but felt her nod anyway. "I keep replaying it, over and over and over. I can't—" The words clogged in her throat, too many of them there for any to get out.
"Shh," Emily whispered, "I know." Her hand slid in long soothing strokes up and down JJ's back. "I know."
JJ didn't know how she could—she'd been at a desk job before coming to the BAU—but Emily's words didn't have the hollow ring of false comfort. They held only sad, exhausted sureness; somehow, some way, Emily knew.
The tremors slowly subsided as Emily's hands banished the last vestiges of the panic attack. That's what it had been—JJ could see that easily from the other side. When she finally still, Emily pulled back a little. "Better?" she asked.
Not "Okay?" Because JJ wasn't okay, and Emily seemed to know it, but she wasn't actively panicking, either.
"Yeah," JJ answered, and tried out a smile. It felt small, shaky, fragile, but real, and that was more than she could have managed with anyone else.
"All right." Emily's return smile was small, too, but gentle and true, so clearly glad that JJ had passed that hurdle, and JJ remembered what she herself had said to Penelope earlier.
"You do what you have to, to protect your family."
Emily saw it, too, she realized. The team was bonding—had already bonded—more tightly than other units. They weren't just coworkers, or just teammates. They were family.
"So!" Emily said, pulling completely out of the embrace. "Do you wanna watch movies, or chat with the wine?"
JJ didn't even need to think about that one. "Movies," she said.
Emily nodded once. "Okay. Movies are over there." She pointed. "Pick one out and get it queued up. I'll get changed and get something for you to wear."
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Emily hunted around a bit for the smallest pair of pajama bottoms she owned—they were still going to swamp JJ—and grabbed another pair for herself at random. She shed her work clothes, tossing them in the general direction of her laundry hamper, and pulled on the pajama pants and a tank top. Then she fished out a T-shirt and brought that, with the extra pajama pants, back out to her living room.
JJ was kneeling next to Emily's movie cabinet, the doors to the bottom shelves open. When Emily walked in, intending to give JJ the pajamas, the other woman looked up and, in a disbelieving tone, asked, "Do you own every single Disney movie?"
Emily grinned. "Yeah. Every Pixar movie, too."
"That's…actually kind of impressive. Nerdy, but impressive," JJ said.
"I'm just going to take that as a compliment and ignore any other possible implications," Emily replied. She almost wanted to sing; the sparkle was back in JJ's eyes. "Did you pick one?"
JJ nodded and help up a DVD case. Mulan.
"Put it next to the TV," Emily instructed. "I'll get the wine, then set it up. Here." She made sure JJ was looking, then tossed the pajamas at her. "Bathroom's down the hall. Use anything you need."
Emily moved towards her kitchen area, only to be stopped by JJ's voice. "What is all over your pants?"
Emily glanced down. The pants she had grabbed randomly out of the drawer for herself were the ones printed with smiling milk cartons and toast. She had bought them—and every other pair of pajama pants in her collection—because they were hilarious. She looked back up at JJ, grinning. "Breakfast," she said simply, and finished the journey to her fridge. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw JJ shake her head at the ceiling.
A few minutes later, Emily had the movie set up, wine glasses ready, a selection of wines on her coffee table, and several blankets pulled out.
"You are actually a child," said JJ from behind her.
Emily turned, already grinning again. The smallest pair of pajama pants she owned did, indeed, swamp JJ, and were covered in cartoon sushi.
"I thought I was friends with a grown woman," JJ continued, "but no, you're, like, ten or something."
"You think they're hilarious, admit it," Emily shot back.
"You're such a nerd," JJ told her, and playfully shoved her shoulder.
"Takes one to know one," Emily shot back. Then she patted the couch next to where she was sitting. "Come on, sit. Let's get this party started."
JJ came around to the front of the sofa. "Oh, it's a party now?" she asked as she sat.
Emily put her arm around JJ's shoulders and pulled her into a half-hug. "Jayje, with you and me, it's always a party."
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The second time around, JJ didn't let Emily go. They curled up together under one of the larger blankets, JJ tucked tight into Emily's side, Emily with her arm now around JJ's waist. They watched the first few minutes in silence, both sipping at their wine. When the first song began, JJ could hear Emily humming, but didn't comment. If JJ was honest with herself, the gentle vibrations that rose and fell with the song were soothing. They lapsed into quiet again when it was over, but, as if emboldened by JJ's silence during "Honor To Us All", Emily actually sang along with "Reflection", though her voice seemed a little choked by the end.
After a moment, Emily's hold tightened on JJ, just barely, and Emily said, very softly, "That song always gets me."
The words seemed to unlock both women, and they kept up a running commentary for the rest of the movie. JJ mostly made sarcastic comments about what was happening, while Emily was full of a weird amount of behind-the-scenes details. This continued as they watched Beauty and the Beast and throughout most of Oliver & Company, until they both started getting teary at the end and Emily declared that they needed food or "we'll go from tipsy to full-on smashed in short order."
They untangled themselves from the blankets, and JJ followed Emily to her kitchen.
"Do you want to order something," Emily asked, "or just eat whatever looks good in my fridge?"
"Well, I actually liked the look of that Japanese place down the street, but—" JJ's stomach cut her off with a rather loud growl, and they both laughed. "I think my point has been made," she finished.
"You're in luck," Emily said, "because I actually ordered from them the other night, and there's still leftovers in the fridge."
JJ gave Emily a fake love-struck look. "You're my new favorite person," she declared.
Emily laughed again. "Go pick out another movie, and pour more wine. I've got this."
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Emily withheld her amusement at JJ's slightly scandalized expression as she carried over the cartons of food. "Were you planning on feeding an army when you ordered?" JJ demanded.
"No, I just know that the best way to lure you into my lair is with Japanese food," Emily replied airily.
JJ raised her eyebrows. "And what did you have in mind once you lured me here?"
"Ply you with wine and cartoons. Oh, look at that, it worked. Maybe it happened backwards, but I'll take what I can get."
JJ rolled her eyes. "I'd shove you again," she said, "but you might drop my sushi."
Emily opened her mouth to make a smart remark about keeping JJ non-violent, then shut it quickly, making an abortive gesture as if she had intended to put her hand over her heart but remembered the food just in time. "So my value rests only in the sushi," Emily said, hoping JJ didn't realize the nature of what she had been about to say. "Got it."
JJ seemed to go a little bit softer, as if an unconscious tension dropped out of her, and Emily could tell that she knew, but that the fact that she had stopped herself meant more than if she had never thought of the joke in the first place. When they had served themselves out of the cartons, the next movie (Pinocchio) already playing, JJ immediately burrowed back into Emily's side.
Their conversation was a little quieter, a little gentler, with food in them, slowly moving to topics other than the film. Emily was wondering if JJ might want to talk a little about what had happened earlier, and let the other woman do the conversation-steering, but it was right back to the entertainment at hand when they swapped Pinocchio out for Atlantis and put the food away. The topic veered again halfway through the movie, when JJ finally demanded to know why Emily knew so much random trivia about Disney movies.
Emily sniggered. "It annoyed my mother," she said. "I was trained in memorization when I was little, so I could remember all the diplomats Mother worked with, and I found out when I was fourteen that it bugged the crap out of her when I rattled off useless facts but paid no attention to her colleagues, so I found the most useless information possible, and began spouting it off at state dinners."
"Oh my god," JJ laughed. "You've actually been ten for decades, haven't you?"
"Probably," Emily agreed with a grin.
This was good, Emily decided a little later, after she had gotten up to put in Lilo & Stitch and settled back on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table and letting JJ snuggle into her again. Opening up to someone wasn't as hard as she remembered it being, but maybe that was the wine. Or maybe it was just that that someone was JJ.
They weren't saying much anymore, and, eventually, Emily glanced down to find JJ fast asleep, the blonde's head cradled in the hollow of Emily's shoulder, almost at her collarbone. Emily smiled down at her friend, feeling soft and warm and trusted, and it occurred to her that, maybe, she had needed this as much as JJ. She thought that if she poked at that feeling too much, it might shatter, so she simply closed her eyes, ready to sleep with someone pressed against her for the first time in years. It was all right, she knew, because it was JJ, and JJ was family.
A/N2: I swear to god the Hamilton reference in the text was an accident. I injured myself with that one. But the other reference was very,very deliberate, and if anyone can tell me what it is and what it means, I will personally come to your house and bake you cookies.
This fic is dedicated to my sister, who I love more than anything in this life; I would choose her happiness over mine every time.