Author's Note: There's every chance I stole the line, "it's amazing how something so violent can make the world so still that it just stops" but I can't figure out where I stole it from so that means it doesn't count... right? ;)

Chapter Nine: Fight and Flight

Visions of you on a motorcycle drive by,
the cigarette ash flies in your eyes and you don't mind;
you smile,
and say the world,
it doesn't fit with you.

April 2nd 2015, 12:03pm:

JJ, like every other person on the planet, was no stranger to wanting someone who didn't want her.

In fifth grade, she'd had to sit by and watch the most beautiful boy she'd ever seen in her life share his lunch and his heart with her best friend. In college, shortly after she'd discovered how interesting the farer sex are, she'd learnt how fickle they can be too. In the academy, she'd found herself painfully attracted to her co-worker… who also happened to be married.

No, JJ knew what it looked like to want, but be unwanted. Or, at least, she used to.

As she felt Emily's breath, warm and tempting against her neck, it was difficult to remember where she was, who that breath belonged to, and why, exactly why, utilizing this close proximity for something a lot less pure was not a good idea.

It's amazing how quickly you lose your faculties when an exquisite, raven-haired woman pins you to the wall and whispers: "Your move, Jareau."

My move, JJ thought. It's difficult to know what my move is when I don't know what game I'm playing.

With that, she tore her wrist from Emily's grasp, and in one quick maneuver, flipped their positions – something that earned her a standing ovation from Morgan. His praise was lost on her though, because right in front of her, Emily's chest heaved and almost black eyes stared into her, offering something that crimson lips seemed to be denying freedom.

JJ smiled, or smirked, and then cast a glance to Morgan. "I think she forgot I took self-defense classes."

Morgan chuckled, his back to the two women as he marked JJ's victory on a scoreboard.

"These sessions were intended to help you find your confidence." Emily said through labored breaths, bringing JJ's focus back to her. "Not your arrogance." She pushed JJ back then, hard, and swiped at her brow with the back of her hand. "Your arrogance will get you killed."

"Is that right?" JJ smirked, regaining her balance, and then mustered up the most arrogant – and arguably provocative - response she could. "Teach me a lesson, then."

Morgan's phone rang then, and as JJ looked to him to acknowledge his departure, she almost missed the fist that came towards her.

Ducking just in time – barely just in time – she kicked Emily's feet out from beneath her, resulting in the older woman falling to her hands and knees. Only then did JJ realize just how close that fist had come.

"You're not meant to actually try to kill me, ya know."

"They're going to." Emily responded evenly, pushing herself to her feet. "And they're not going to hold back either."

"That was you holding back?" JJ scoffed and took the hand Emily offered her.

Bringing JJ to her feet, Emily quickly twisted the blonde's wrist, consequently turning her until she was pressed against her, JJ's back to her front.

"That was me holding back." She confirmed in a whisper, and kept a tight hold of JJ even as the blonde fought to free herself.

And in that fight, in the intense sensations it inflicted upon her, both good and bad, JJ realized something: she did know what it looked like to want, but be unwanted - she'd just decided to go with hope instead.

"Time's up, ladies." Morgan reappeared, and Emily finally released JJ. "We'll pick it up again tomorrow. Who won, by the way?"

JJ looked to Emily, her heart racing for more than the physical exertion. "Emily did."

April 2nd 2015, 4:13pm:

In an untypically quiet bullpen, JJ was in the process of de-cluttering her desk and drawers. She hated days like this.

She wasn't sure of the exact point of origin, but there had come a time where the world had begun moving too slowly for her. It likely coincided with that point where the beginning of her almost-end was born, when there was so much she was running from that of course the world would be moving too slowly. But was it really the world moving too slow, or her moving too fast?

"Slow down," her dad had always seemed to tell her when she was younger. It didn't matter whether she was storming through the house, arms stretched out like an airplane, or seventeen years old and miles ahead of where she should be on the academic scale… It was always: slow down.

What she hadn't realized then though was that slow down also meant take your time. It didn't mean dumb yourself down, it didn't mean quit having fun; it meant take a second to appreciate what is right in front of you, instead of storming by what's right in front of you to what's miles ahead of you.

Right now, right in front of her, she had down time – something so incredibly rare in this job. Right now, right in front of her, she already had the next case, she was already planning how she would handle it, figuring out what she might get wrong this time so that she could ensure she'd get it right.

Right now, slow down seemed an almost painful thing to do.

Out of nowhere, something hit her in the back of the head.

She looked up, but didn't turn around right away. When she cast her eyes to the left, finding a paper airplane lying haphazardly on the carpet beneath her feet, she smiled- "Mature, Emily." –and spun to face the older woman.

"Well it seems we both know something about maturity." Emily shot back, a small smile curling at the left corner of her lips. "That picture fallen down yet?"

JJ smirked, then leant down to retrieve Emily's airplane, just now recognizing the words written beneath the left wing:

As hot as a woman with confidence is, you really do need to ebb it down and out of arrogant territory.

Her lips parted, the ability to breathe quickly abandoning her, and she allowed only her peripherals to look to Emily that time. If this was really a case of wanting but being unwanted, it sure as fuck wasn't textbook.

Nonetheless, she fanned the flames-

As hot as a woman with a chivalrous side is, you really need not hold back.

-and as she watched the paper airplane glide through the air towards Emily's desk, she was already thinking about all the places those sixteen words it carried might take them.

April 3rd 2015, 12:33pm:

When JJ's back met the wall of the FBI gym with a hard thump, she was helpless to the winded sound that left her lips – or the blatant frustration evident in her locked jaw.

Emily certainly wasn't holding back anymore, but JJ's frustration was nothing to do with learning her arrogance was indeed misplaced and reckless… It was the fact that, pinned in place by this woman who she couldn't seem to rid her mind of these days, everything in her seemed to slow down impossibly, to the point where it was the world moving too fast for her. And she didn't want to keep up with it, not if it meant leaving this moment.

"Come on, Jayje." Garcia half-cheered, half-judged from the sidelines. "I came to see a fight, not a fondling session."

JJ looked back to Emily to find her grinning mischievously, smugly, obliviously. What the hell was a moment worth if she was the only one in it?

And just like that, her frustration transformed into something else. It didn't matter if Emily was purposely screwing with her or not – human emotions never really did stop to seek out the logic.

She shoved Emily back, hard, just like Emily had done to her the other day. However, unlike Emily had, she didn't pause before she began throwing out punches.

Emily blocked every one of them, of course, but the momentum pushed her back across the safety mats nonetheless. She quickly glanced behind her, noticing those mats coming to an end, and looked back just in time to duck away from JJ's right hook. "Jay, slow down."

But JJ didn't slow, something intense flooding through her mind, her chest, her veins. And it was only when Emily ducked again and this time jumped to the side, that she finally did stop.

She doubled over and braced her hands at her knees, her breathing rapid and her head throbbing. Slow down, she thought, it not at all lost on her that the only reason she had slowed down, or stopped, was because there was nothing ahead of her anymore.

"Well," Morgan stood, ready to mark someone's victory on the dry erase board… and then paused when he realized he didn't know who that victor was.

Eventually, he marked victories for both women, and JJ looked across and up to Emily. "You weren't supposed to hold back."

"And you weren't supposed to be arrogant." Emily returned plainly, before looking to Morgan- "I think that's it for today." –and headed to the changing rooms to shower.

Having watched Emily go, JJ pushed her hands into her hips and leant back, stretching out her muscles and attempting to catch her breath.

In a decision she hadn't recognized had been given to her, she'd chosen fight. Emily had chosen to fly… away from her.

April 3rd 2015, 4:43pm:

When a paper airplane landed upon JJ's desk for the second time in two days, her only response was to cast her eyes cautiously to the contraption.

Earlier, when she'd left the gym, she'd felt out of sorts, certain she'd crossed some line. But it was difficult to know for sure when she no longer knew where the line was – or if there indeed was one. Because it couldn't possibly be in her mind, could it?

There was a new norm now, pushing boundaries and hoping it would go unnoticed enough to evade scrutiny, but recognized enough to provoke reaction. Or, at least, that's how it seemed. Emily would say or do something provocative – or seemingly provocative – and she would say or do something right back, further elevating them into questionable territory. The further Emily let it slide, the further JJ would push them.

But they'd eventually reach a point, a point where Emily chose flight – just like back in that gym – and JJ was left to wonder if she was actually the only one pushing boundaries. Were her newfound desires for Emily blinding her into locating meaning in the meaningless? More than likely.

And then Emily would do something like this – send her messages on paper airplanes across a crowded room – and lines blurred again, boundaries were reborn simply to be breached, and, once again, she found herself wondering if she had any idea at all about what it meant to want but be unwanted.

Unlike two days ago, she didn't turn to face Emily, but instead cut right to peeling open the wings of the airplane.

In varying sized handwriting – likely a result of the brunette running out of space on the small triangle of paper – were pointers of sorts, criticisms on her technique, but advice on how to perfect it. Lastly, contorted around the point of one of the wings, capitalized and underlined, were the words: slow down, Super Jay.

She smiled.

Or you could keep up with me, she quickly wrote back, sending it gliding back towards Emily's desk without further thought.

April 4th 2015, 1:44pm:

Emily Prentiss was a fucking inspiration.

For JJ, watching her fighting for oxygen, sweat beading against every inch of exposed skin, and yet determinedly keeping up the pace, was like finding an undiscovered star in a vast and endless galaxy.

She didn't rush, she calculated with careful haste. She didn't overextend herself, she knew when she'd met her match. She fought like it was an art form, like the end result was only marginally more important than how that end came to be…

Truthfully, for JJ, it was a privilege to be on the receiving end of her stamina and skill.

That was until Emily unexpectedly ducked to avoid one of her punches, causing her to stumble forward from the momentum of her swing. She landed on her wrist, the pain that suddenly shot through it like thousands of needles penetrating her veins, and there, on her hands and knees, while Emily told her- "You didn't prepare for that." –JJ realized something.

This wasn't about flirtation… Emily was truly trying to teach her.

JJ looked back and scoffed, angrily pushing herself to her feet. "How can I possibly prepare for that?"

Taking JJ's clear frustration in her stride, Emily removed her gloves and tossed them aside, leaving them both open to injury.

"You prepare for that by remembering you're not the only one in this fight." She said, her eyes fixed pointedly on JJ. "You prepare for that by knowing your opponent."

But I don't, JJ thought. Does anyone really know you?

With that, Emily, just like she had several days ago, utilized JJ's distraction to her benefit – and, unlike two days ago, JJ didn't duck. Instead, she caught Emily's fist in her hand, mere inches from her face, and Emily's expression quickly morphed to one both dumbfounded and impressed.

"Good girl." She smiled, but JJ had learnt her lesson – flirtatious smiles and questionable quips weren't a part of this. That's what would get her killed.

So she shoved Emily back, with all the power she could muster, once again following her with quick-fire punches. Only, this time, it was less like aimlessly swatting at a fly, and more like there was a strategic plan behind every swing.

"Good." Emily praised, ducking and weaving as JJ advanced on her. "Keep going."

And JJ did keep going, not blinded by speed but fuelled by determination. She pushed Emily to the very edge of the safety mats, and there, she strategically avoided Emily's attempts to regain the upper hand, and the whole process started all over again…

That was until they each, in a sobering way, realized they'd severely underestimated the other.

When JJ's fist met Emily's face, everything stopped. True, it was likely to happen eventually, especially free of any kind of safety equipment, but it's amazing how something so violent can make the world so still that it just stops.

As JJ stood almost catatonically, Emily swiped the back of her hand over her parted lips, the smearing of blood it left across her porcelain skin a shocking contrast.

For a moment, she just stared at it, and JJ, for her part, didn't trust herself to move. What the hell had she done?

Finally, Emily looked up with a breathless- "Very good." –and JJ instantly moved towards her, her hands out in a consoling gesture.

"Emily, I'm so sor-"

Almost instantly, JJ found herself on her back, Emily atop of her.

The brunette's legs pinned her in place while a strong arm pressed into the crevice of her throat…

…and all she could do was stare up at the blooded face of the woman who had so quickly wormed her way into her desires, and wonder how she had ever walked by her desk, or worked with her on a case, or shared a hotel room with her, and not realized just how fucking beautiful she was.

"You gotta stop getting distracted." Emily advised, her voice a soft, velvet hum, something sparkling in her dark eyes.

"I thought I had to slow down?" JJ shot back, finding similar frustration in this moment as she had yesterday when pinned to the wall ten feet behind then. This time, however, there was something else there…

Just like it had when she'd sat upon her countertop pondering what she wanted, her stomach hurt.

But then she noticed Emily's eyes drop to her lips, lingering there, something so blatantly conflicted in dark brown. How could she possibly be making this up? That struggle in Emily's eyes had to mean something… right?

Suddenly, startling loud claps echoed around the large gym, and Emily and JJ both looked up to find Morgan stood by the door, a brilliant white smile plastered across his face.

"Damn, that was good to watch. Looks like I got here just in time." He shook his head in amazement, walking towards the pair. As Emily pushed herself up, he reached for JJ's hand, pulling her to her feet. "She's right – you really gotta stop getting distracted. But I never thought I'd see the day when you got one over Emily Prentiss."

JJ looked to Emily, her bloodied lip already beginning to swell, and wondered herself how that had happened. Because Emily truly was an inspiration – she didn't make mistakes.

Was it possible that Emily had gotten distracted too?

April 4th 2015, 6:07pm:

As JJ strode across the parking lot towards her car, she was stilled by the sound of Emily's voice calling after her to hold up.

She turned with a smile. "Slow down, hold up, stop getting distracted. Anything else?"

Emily grinned, the left side of her lip now far more swollen than earlier, and JJ frowned guiltily, apparently unable to prevent herself from reaching out towards it.

She ran her thumb just barely beneath the swelling, afraid that if she touched it too closely, she'd cause Emily further pain.

"I really am sorry." She said, her expression genuinely remorseful, while Emily's smile was easy and nonchalant.

"I'm not." She shrugged, then flicked her head, indicating for JJ to start walking again, and she followed her towards her car. "If a fist in the face reminds you to keep focused, then I suppose I could be okay with that. You did great, Jay."

JJ wasn't so sure. She'd certainly learned a lot, but somehow damaging her friend's face in the process didn't leave her feeling so good about those achievements.

"But it shouldn't have happened…" She mused aloud, then looked across to the woman walking beside her. "Morgan was right… I shouldn't have been able to get that punch in. How did that happen?"

Emily paused, briefly sucking the injured portion of her lip into her mouth, before, "I met my match."

Almost instantly, that phrase had its affect. Of course it did. But the lines were so blurred that it muddled JJ's mind. She didn't know what to think anymore.

She sucked in a breath and smiled. "Well. Goodnight."

"Uh, Jay…" Emily gently reached out for JJ's arm, preventing her escape. "About that whole slow down thing…"

"It's fine." JJ shook her head. "You're not the first person to tell me I need to slow down – you can't both be wrong."

"Oh I'm not wrong." Emily responded, more than a hint of arrogance in her smile. "There are just some ways where it's… fun, not to slow down. If you're interested."

Understandably, JJ wasn't sure what she'd expected when she'd agreed to Emily's offer, but this certainly wasn't it: speeding, probably faster than is remotely legal, along a deserted, overgrown runway.

For this life that seemed so precious to her now, she clung onto Emily, her cheeks aching from the truly content laughter bursting from her lips.

Faster, faster, Emily taxied them along the runway, until they reached such speeds that JJ felt that they'd take off, like the planes that had once busied this tarmac.

Every so often, Emily would look back to her, her cheeks flushed and her smile so grand and carefree that it reminded JJ of that rare, candid picture she'd once managed to snap of her. Who knew she'd be permitted to witness that in real time again, even without the alcohol that had been responsible for Emily's lowered inhibitions?

"Let go!" Emily yelled then, slowing her speed – and JJ, for her part, gripped tighter.

There was absolutely no way that was going to happen. Ironically enough, she didn't have a death wish. "Not a chance!"

"Trust me!" Emily yelled again and slowed a little more.

Though Emily's speed was still faster than JJ's daring side felt comfortable with, those words wrapped themselves around her, prompting a different kind of adrenaline to pulse through her veins, her stomach, her chest.

And before she knew it, free of the confinements of logical and rational thought, her arms slipped from Emily's waist, tentatively at first, to get a feel for just how idiotically dangerous this was.

It was dangerous, but she didn't feel like she was in danger. Matter of fact, as her arms slowly outstretched themselves, leaving her truly resembling an airplane, she felt free, above any kind of danger that may or may not come her way.

The wind swooped through her sleeves, causing the material to billow out, and her stomach flipped and soared so violently that it felt like she was dropping through an endless sky… that tightrope of hers seemed a world away now, a mere blemish in the distance, barely seen by the naked eye.

For those blissfully chaotic moments, along that abandoned road to nowhere, she felt as carefree as she had when she was younger, zooming around the house, except there was no one telling her to slow down…

JJ remembered something then – the true meaning of slow down. It really was nothing to do with speed or a compromise of quality; it was about allowing a moment to become a memory. It was about making the most of the journey, so that if you never reached your destination, it didn't matter.

And when Emily briefly looked back to her again, that rare but joyous smile spread across her face, JJ realized that that didn't matter either.

If Emily wanted her or if she didn't… that was okay. Because the answer to that question didn't change this. How Emily felt didn't change how Emily made her feel. It didn't diminish the life coursing through her veins, the renewed appreciation she had for that life…

It didn't matter.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, a content smile pulling at her lips. It didn't matter.

Negative: You gave Emily Prentiss a bloody lip.
Positive: You slowed down enough to make a memory.

I don't believe you,
you're so serene;
careening through the universe,
your axis on a tilt.
You're guiltless and free,
I hope you take a piece of me with you.

- Third Eye Blind (Motorcycle Drive By)