October.
i liked you because you made me smile,
i fell in love with you because you make me want to be a better person.
now that you're leaving me, what am I supposed to do? - lisa gilbert
the twelfth
happy birthday em
"You really don't have to, Hotch!" He couldn't hear her over the pounding music. Either that, or he was choosing to ignore her halfhearted protests. Sucking her thumb between her lips, Emily could taste the leftover tang of the lemon slice she had just ripped apart. She swayed along to the song that was playing, completely out of time with the music and too buzzed to care. Beside her, her Unit chief was ordering another round of tequila. He'd hated the first round, and Emily had almost choked on her lemon slice when she saw Hotch's face as he bit into his, but he knew they were her favourite, so he had insisted on buying another round.
"It's your birthday!" He shouted into her ear, in an effort to be heard over the thump of the music that was pervading their conversation. "And, for once, we're off duty. No call outs tonight, the B-team can take care of it. When does that ever happen on one of our birthdays?" He pushed the shot glass into her hand. "Make the most of it."
He had a good point and Emily wasn't about to argue with him. It had been so long, too long, since she had relaxed, since any of them had. Even when they weren't on call, she was still coiled like a spring, expecting JJ's phone to ring, expecting something to interrupt their rare downtime and drag them into the field. It had gotten to the point where being off duty felt wrong; there was an anxiety that accompanied it, as though she should be out there, helping somebody. It had happened countless times; they'd be in a bar having fun, JJ's phone would ring and then, thirty minutes later, they were climbing onto the jet and pounding coffee, setting off for whichever precinct needed them. Conditioned as they had become, it was difficult for any of them to fully relax into an evening of fun, but if even Hotch was able to, the rest of them could settle much easier, following his lead. Therefore, if Hotch was the one offering her a drink, who was Emily to argue with him?
She lifted the salt shaker from the bar, licking the side of her hand and sprinkling the salt over it. Watching, amused, her eyes followed Hotch as he did the same thing. Hotch stared at the amber liquid like it was going to poison him, while Emily grinned like the proverbial cat that got the cream, delighted and endlessly amused by his aversion to spirits.
"You really don't have to, you know?" She laughed, but Hotch's eyes narrowed, sliding towards her, his lips pursed at the sound of her amusement. Not one to be teased or outdone, he copied her, sprinkling his own hand with salt, and lifted his glass. The brunette watched her boss crack his neck, winding it in an effort to prepare himself, and tried to hold back the smirk that curled on her lips. He glanced at her and she grabbed for her own glass, nodding to show she was ready, but instead of licking the salt from her hand, she watched as Hotch closed his eyes tightly and went through the motions. He moved with such speed, as though that would take away the burn of the alcohol as it travelled down his throat, and the expression on his face when he bit into the lemon sent Emily into another drunken giggling fit.
Squeezing one open as he sucked the citrus fruit, Hotch's other eye shot open in surprise.
"You didn't even take yours!" He accused, indignant, while Emily tried to regain her composure, swiping beneath her eyes with her thumbs. Catching her breath as best as she could, while laughter still bubbled in the back of her throat, Emily licked the salt, tossed back the tequila with an ease she had been perfecting since the age of thirteen, bit into the lemon and put the whole quarter into her mouth.
Hotch was staring at her as though she was insane, which she supposed wasn't too unusual between the two of them. She just grinned back at him, the peel of the lemon facing outwards, making it look as though the sun was shining out from between her lips. Hotch had to laugh at that.
"Tequila, without me?" Rossi's complaint came during a dip in the music, upon his return from the men's restroom. "How dare you."
"I'll order you one, if you want, Dave?" Hotch offered, he smirked as he turned his eyes back to the brunette beside him "And I'm sure Emily won't say no to a third."
"You make me sound like an alcoholic," Emily rolled her eyes, though it was noted that she didn't actually protest. She checked her watch, and Rossi caught her eye as she glanced past him towards the door, past where Morgan and Garcia were teasing Reid about something at their table.
She may had had a few drinks, but Rossi didn't miss the sharpness in her eyes as they passed over him.
"She'll be here, Emilia." He told her, in his fatherly way, smiling warmly at her and resting a firm hand on her shoulder. Emily forced a smile, tilting her head, shaking it slightly. Rossi always knew what she was thinking, she didn't even have to say it aloud.
"She's just...a bit late." Shrugging, Emily tried to act nonchalant, but couldn't stop the flicker of her eyes towards the door once again, eagerly awaiting the arrival of a certain blonde. "I know she'll be here," She shrugged again, and Rossi's hand fell from her shoulder to take the shot glass Hotch held out to him.
"What's wrong with you?" Hotch asked, noting the expression on Emily's face as he turned back to them, his brow creasing with concern. Emily cast a glance heavenward, feeling slightly smothered but well aware that their concern came from a good place, she kept her voice calm.
"Nothing is wrong-"
"She's wondering where JJ is." Rossi cut across her, as he sprinkled salt over his hand.
"I am not-okay, yes, I am." Emily gave up protesting, recognising the futility of arguing with profilers, especially profilers that knew her so well. "But she should have been here an hour ago. She said she was finishing up some paperwork at the office, then coming straight here." Emily hated that she sounded like a needy girlfriend; sometimes she still had to remind herself that it was okay that she had become so attached to JJ, to the whole team, really, but mostly JJ. Her years of self-imposed solitude and isolation had created habits that were difficult to break. So she had to remind herself that it was OK to be concerned that her girlfriend hadn't yet showed up to her birthday night out.
"She had a meeting with Strauss." Hotch announced, his face scrunched unpleasantly as he recovered from his third tequila shot. Emily was halfway to putting hers to her lips, her tongue still tingling with salt, when she paused, confused, and frowned at him.
"With Strauss? What about?"
Hotch started to shrug, and was then saved from answering by the reappearance of Morgan, Penelope and Reid.
"Back me up, Rossi, I could bench press Reid, right?" Morgan was saying, but Emily caught the way Hotch's eyes flitted away from her, and then back again. He was visibly relieved by their interruption and it ignited an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Emily's stomach, an anxiety, a gnawing she knew wouldn't go away until she saw JJ again. She tried to shove it aside, throwing back her shot and ignoring the way Hotch kept stealing glances at her, glances that only served to make her worry even more. Eventually, when the others were engaged in an argument over how much weight Morgan could actually, realistically bench press, she caught his eye, speaking to him, silently.
Stop that.
He seemed to take the hint, because his glances towards her stopped. Now, though, he joined in with Emily's frequent, concerned glances towards the front door.
Emily was grateful when Morgan pulled her into the discussion, immediately shutting him down, much to the delight of the rest of the group. "Sorry, Morgan, but there's not a chance you can bench press Brainbox."
"You wound me, Princess," Her partner said, frowning and holding his hand over his heart.
"Okay, fine, you can prove it on Monday, then," She told him, "On Monday, you can bench press Reid. Then we'll believe it-"
"Does Reid get a say in this?" Spencer asked, indignantly, looking concerned and alarmed at the prospect.
Emily found herself so engaged in the discussion that, for a moment, she forgot about her churning stomach, she lost track of the time and, eventually, she stopped glancing at the front door. It wasn't until she felt slim arms wind around her waist and the familiar scent of her girlfriend's perfume, a gift from Emily for her previous birthday, washed over her, that she realised JJ had arrived. Leaning back against the blonde, Emily nestled into her arms and felt all of the anxiety melt out of her body, the tension leaving her shoulders and her heart warming in her chest as she turned her head and let JJ's lips find her own. As they kissed, effortlessly, in a loving greeting, Emily's lips curled into a smile. Her tongue snaked out to find JJ's, a drunken display of confidence in front of their friends. JJ chuckled against her lips.
"Hey, about time you got here," Emily muttered, turning on her stool and pulling JJ towards her by her waist, the blonde settling between Emily's thighs, her hands resting on the black jeans she wore.
"I know, I'm sorry," JJ apologised, draping her arms over Emily's shoulders, her eyes full of an apology, "I got caught up in a meeting with Strauss." There was excitement behind her apology, and Emily narrowed her eyes, playfully, cautiously. JJ was holding back a smile, but as Emily's eyes searched her own, JJ's resolve melted and her lips spread into a grin. "She, uh, offered me a job."
Confused, Emily laughed, shortly. "What? You have a job, Jen." Emily shook her head, dark curls waving around her pale face.
"I know, I know," JJ said, interlocking her fingers behind Emily's head. She shrugged, pulling Emily towards her for another kiss, this one chaste and brief, the mere brush of her lips against her girlfriends, but it was intimate and sweet, and classic JJ. It wasn't out of the ordinary, but something about it felt different, and Emily didn't try to deepen the kiss this time.
Ignoring the tingle of her lips as JJ's brushed her own, Emily leaned back to look at her girlfriend's face, searching for meaning, for clarity, in the blue eyes that met her own. Well aware that she was on her way to being drunk, whereas JJ couldn't be more sober, Emily was suddenly annoyed by the drunken haze she was now all too aware of, which she knew was clouding her better judgement and her profiling skills; no matter how much she searched, she couldn't find the answers she was looking for on JJ's face. Suddenly, she remembered the glances Hotch had given her, and her eyes flickered towards him over JJ's shoulder, but he wasn't looking at her and she couldn't catch his eye.
"Jayje, you have a job." Emily shook her head, lips curled in a confused, bemused smile.
"I know, Em. We'll talk more about this later, okay?" JJ's hand moved, pushing a stray, dark curl behind Emily's ear, and she turned to greet the rest of the team, taking the glass of wine Rossi had produced for her.
Emily watched her, watched the blonde hair sway down her back, the smile still on her face, but a frown her settled on her forehead. She couldn't put a finger on it, but something about JJ's arrival, rather than easing her anxiety, had exacerbated it. She suddenly felt as though there was a loop, and she was on the outside of it.
The music roused around them as Emily watched her girlfriend sip her wine, then saw Penelope pull her into a one-armed hug, as Morgan, seeing that he had potential back-up in JJ, who hadn't been there for the bench press conversation, plunged back into it. JJ was as unconvinced as the rest of them, and laughed at the disappointment on Morgan's face. Emily smiled to herself, watching the laugh that lit up JJ's face, like a light from within. Despite her anxiety, the smile on JJ's face lifted Emily's heart. In her moment of laughter, JJ sought Emily out, eyes finding her among their friends, and Emily found herself returning the dazzling smile the blonde gave her automatically, without consciously deciding to do so, and the churning in her stomach settled into a warm comfort, as she finally relaxed into her evening.
It didn't take long for JJ to catch up; several glasses of wine in and she was as merry as the rest of them. Emily felt the familiar cloudy haze of the tequila thicken the longer they stayed in the bar.
At some point, a cake appeared, and a round of happy birthday went up, not just from the team but from the rest of the merry makers at the bar. Strangers surrounded their little group, forming a circle of sorts, with Emily in the middle. Penelope stood in front of her, holding a huge chocolate cake complete with candles and happy birthday emily scrawled across it in swirling letters of white chocolate. Behind her, JJ had her arms slung around her waist and her chin on her shoulder. Her voice lilted, if slightly off key, down Emily's ear and, when she the song was over and everyone else was cheering, the blonde kissed her deeply, tasting of white wine, and Emily felt as though it was perhaps the best birthday she had ever had.
Falling through the front door, Emily's back was immediately pressed against the wall, as her girlfriend's hands traced the exposed skin of her midriff, and JJ's lips captured her own, their breath hot and mingling. There was a slam, as JJ kicked the door closed behind them, and Emily flinched against her at the noise, eliciting giggles from both women. JJ kicked Emily's feet apart, removing her lips from the brunettes to trace kisses down her throat, as she frantically sought for the button of Emily's jeans.
Emily's eyes fluttered closed as JJ's fingers dipped between her legs and expertly found what they were searching for, eyelashes sending shadows down her pale cheeks, her kiss-swollen lips curling into a tiny smile, sharp white teeth tugging on her lip. JJ watched her face carefully, as her fingers moved deftly, in the familiar and skilled way she knew Emily liked. Breathing heavily at the expression on Emily's face, at the way she frowned a little, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, JJ stepped in closer, pressing the older woman up against the wall with her body, her hand sandwiched between them.
Leaning in, JJ ghosted the tip of her nose across Emily's skin, raising goosebumps where she breathed across her throat. "Happy birthday, Em," She whispered against Emily's ear, before gently sucking her earlobe into her mouth, nibbling softly, her tongue tracing delicate, teasing lines along the inside of her ear, so that Emily shivered against her. Emily's hands, previously wrapped around JJ's shoulders, moved slowly. One travelled up into JJ's hair, encouraging and gentle. The other pulled back, fingertips sliding across the blonde's shoulder, before moving down her chest, where her palm curved around the light swell of JJ's breast. She felt a pucker under her palm, and squeezed, gently, massaging, teasing, over JJ's shirt.
There was a shift, and JJ's body was gone, leaving Emily cold and unable to stop the slightly desperatewhine that came from the back of her throat. With a glint of mischief in her eyes, and the flash of brilliant white teeth, JJ stepped away from her, fingers ghosting over the bottom of her shirt, lifting it just enough to give Emily a delicious flash of abs, and then higher still, to reveal the bottom of her sheer, black lace bra. Emily's eyes widened when she realised she hadn't seen this lingerie before. "Are you ready for your present, Em?"
Emily didn't need to be asked twice.
The late hour brought with it bright moonlight that shone, unhindered, into Emily's bedroom. Her curtains were flung open, the huge windows that took up one whole wall of her bedroom lit up by the moon and the few stars that managed to shine despite the light pollution of the city. The stars were few and far between, but that didn't stop Emily from kissing the pattern of them lightly across JJ's back, as the blonde lay on her stomach, a light sheet pulled over her to save some modesty, but leaving most of her upper body exposed, her lean, tanned back stark against Emily's white bed sheets. The celestial objects were their only spectators and, staring out at them, JJ felt at once very small and as though she and Emily were the only two people left in the world.
"Em?" She breathed softly out into the dark.
"Jayje?" Emily mumbled, her full lips moving gently against the soft, sensitive skin of JJ's back, ghosting delicately over her spine.
The blonde closed her eyes, shuddering with pleasure at the sensation and, for just a moment, all thought left her head. She rolled onto her back, blue eyes meeting the warm brown ones that stared down at her. In the moonlight, Emily looked even paler than usual, her beautiful face framed with dark curls that had grown disorderly and tangled during their tryst. JJ reached up and ran her fingers through them, watching as Emily's eyes closed at the contact, and she leaned her face into JJ's palm, pressing a long kiss against her warm skin.
JJ smiled. "I still don't believe it, sometimes."
Emily met her gaze, her expression curious, the smile on her lips a reflection of JJ's own. "What?"
"That you're mine."
Emily reached across and braced her palm against the mattress, straddling and stretching her body over the length of JJ's, and slowly lowered herself until they were pressed together, their legs entangled, their skin flush against one another. JJ's arms wrapped around her back. She captured the younger agent's lips in a kiss, one she hoped would convey the depth of her emotion, and ghosted a hand up JJ's side, before reaching for her hand and entwining their fingers against the sheets.
the thirteenth
shoes upon the table and a spider's been killed.
someone broke the looking glass, a full moon is shining and the salt's been spilled.
you're walking on the pavement cracks, don't know what's gonna come to pass.
now you know the devil's got your number, you know he's gonna find you.
you know, he's right behind you.
- willy russell's blood brothers
Morning came much too quickly, and much too brightly, and Emily was reminded that, although the moonlight was romantic and beautiful, she had curtains for a reason. Squeezing her eyes tight against the glare of the sunshine, she rolled over, reaching for the warm body beside her. She reached, and found nothing but the warm sheets JJ had left behind. It wasn't unusual for JJ to wake first, but Emily groaned to herself, missing the warmth of her girlfriends body next to her.
"Jayje?" Emily called for her, but the sleep in her voice made it much too quiet for anyone further than a foot from her to hear. Groaning into her pillow, Emily rolled, her back arching up off of the bed as she stretched the night out of her muscles.
In the kitchen, she found JJ. Dressed in one of Emily's oversized night shirts and a pair of cream fluffy socks, she was dancing along to the radio, her back to the door as Emily wandered in from the bedroom. Leaning against the door frame, Emily watched, amused, as JJ swayed from side to side, a spatula in one hand as she tended to the bacon she was frying on the stove. Her uncombed blonde ponytail shook wildly as she thrashed her head along to the pop song. Emily was quiet, smiling to herself, unwilling to disrupt her girlfriend's fun, and much too entertained to do so.
Not for the first time, Emily was sent into a reverie of wonderment, as she watched JJ float around her kitchen as though it were her own. There was a swell of something in her chest, something Emily was reluctant to label, that brought an involuntary smile to her lips and a warmth to her cheeks. In the late morning light that streamed through her kitchen windows, JJ was vibrant, golden-skinned and ethereal, her blonde hair tossing sunlight about the room with each swish. Emily had never known contentment like it, as she watched JJ sway her hips in time to the music, and a yearning came upon her suddenly. A dull ache, as though she missed her. JJ was standing in front of her, mere feet away, and it wasn't close enough. Emily was about to make her presence known, pull the blonde into her arms for a hug, when JJ's phone rang.
Maybe, if she had interrupted earlier, or if JJ had let the call go to voicemail, things would have turned out different. The lightness in Emily's chest would have stayed, just a little while longer. Things might not have come crashing down like they were about to.
Emily didn't think twice about staying as JJ picked up the call: she expected it would be work, and JJ would turn to her, rolling her eyes, and say they had to head into the office. That was the worst case scenario that rolled through Emily's head; she had no idea that the reality could be so much worse.
"Ma'am?" Strauss. Emily walked silently into the room, leaning against the counter. JJ was still oblivious to her presence, as she wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she fried off the bacon, and suddenly Emily felt as though she shouldn't be there at all. "No, I-I've not had a chance to speak with her, as of yet." Emily frowned, and JJ paused. On the other end of the phone, Emily could hear the muffle of Strauss' voice, but not her words. "Yes, I'm aware of the time constraints-no, I-ma'am." She paused, sighed, set down the spatula and leaned against the counter. Emily saw the tension that came into her shoulders, heard the rattle of her breath as JJ tried to steady herself, and maintain her temper. "Yes, ma'am. I'll tell her today."
I'll tell her today. Suddenly, all of Emily's anxiety from the night before was back with a vengeance.
There was a snappy retort on the other end of the line, and Emily heard the dial tone as the line clicked dead. The phone remained at her ear for a moment, before JJ dropped her arm. Setting the phone down, she rested her palms against the counter, and Emily could see the pressure in her hands as she pushed down, tension rippling across her back and up her neck. Emily frowned, moving quietly towards her.
"Hey."
She spoke, softly, but JJ still jumped, shocked by her presence. Emily's hand on her back soothed her, and JJ relaxed against the solid body behind her as Emily's palms smoothed from her shoulders all the way down her back, thumbs tracing her spine through the soft material of her nightshirt. As the brunette wrapped her arms around her waist, JJ leaned back and Emily pressed her forehead to the back of her neck. JJ sighed as Emily's breath warmed her neck, blue eyes closing in quiet contentment. She settled into the moment, but there was a fear in her chest as she thought of the conversation they had to have. "You okay?"
"Yeah," JJ cleared her throat, and Emily knew. She would never be able to explain, in the coming weeks, how she had known. But, somehow, she knew. Her arms tightened around JJ's waist, as though to hold onto her was to halt what she knew was coming. "Strauss offered me a job."
Last night, those words had triggered something inside of Emily. A niggling worry, one that hadn't gone away, but which she had suppressed. In the night, with JJ in her arms, JJ's lips on her skin, JJ's scent all over her bedding, it was easy to ignore the unease that had settled over her and, waking up this morning, it had almost been forgotten. Now, it was back. Slowly, deliberately, she unwound her arms from around JJ's waist, until her palms rested lightly on her hips. The younger agent turned, blue eyes finding hers, and Emily saw that the decision had already been made by the way JJ looked, imploringly, at her.
"It's an incredible opportunity for me, Em." She insisted, falling immediately into the habit of defending herself. "It's an outreach in the middle East. I'll be working with women and children, helping victims who've been affected by the war. They need representation and support, and Strauss has recommended me. It's...I didn't know until she said it, but it's perfect for me."
"And you want to go." Emily nodded, unable to hold JJ's eyes, her own falling to where JJ's hands had caught her own. Pale pink painted nails dug into her skin, the pressure light but unwavering. It was the same, Emily recognised, as holding JJ in her arms. JJ was trying to hold onto her, too. "How long?"
JJ's hesitation was a moment too long and her answer felt like a bullet wound through her chest.
"Three years."
Emily flinched away from it, tugging her hands from JJ's grip and turning away. Running her hands over her face, smoothing her hair back over her head and down her neck, Emily tried to compose herself, unwilling to let JJ see the turmoil she knew was passing over her face. Breathing deep, she swallowed down the feelings that had come rushing up her throat, suppressed the burning that threatened behind her eyes, and tried to steady the pounding of her heart in her chest.
"That's a long time. When do you need to give Strauss an answer by?"
Turning, she saw the multitude of emotions that crossed JJ's face, and felt her heart drop.
"Oh, my god." She breathed, raising her eyebrows, as she lost the battle against her tears, and her eyes filled with moisture. She folded her hands across her chest. "Oh, my god. You already agreed to this, didn't you?"
JJ's inability to hold her gaze was answer enough, and Emily exhaled in a gasp of disbelief. "Oh, my god." She repeated.
"Emily-" JJ's voice was desperate and full of apology, her hands clasped in a desperate prayer in front of her chest. "Emily. This is such an opportunity for me." She knew she was repeating herself, but she had to make Emily understand. "I'm gonna get to help so many people, so many children. They...they need me, Em."
I need you.
She didn't say it, wouldn't let herself say it. Whatever it was, her ego, her pride, her trauma, something wouldn't let Emily say it. All of the walls that JJ had broken down went back up, and it was as though she could physically feel the barrier that was re-erected around her heart. Inside, though, she was screaming.
"All I've ever wanted to do," JJ was still talking, and Emily watched her lips move, but she barely heard her words, "Is help people. I get to do that with this job, Em. These people, people who need my support, who need someone to trust. I can be that for them. I can make a difference."
Emily felt backed into a corner. With every word that tumbled from JJ's mouth, each argument Emily had against her leaving ebbed away. How could she argue against women and children, victims of war and terror? Who was she to deprive JJ of something she so desperately wanted? Behind the excuses, behind the desperation, there was an excitement, and Emily remembered the expression that had lit up JJ's face when she walked into the bar the evening before. It was obvious, even though she was frowning and on the verge of tears, that this was what JJ wanted. She'd already made the decision. Alone.
Emily turned, not trusting herself to say anything aloud. JJ didn't follow her, wanting to give her a moment to process. The bacon, now cooling in the discarded pan, was forgotten. JJ waited, sitting at the counter, for a long time. Her phone rang, and she ignored it. She waited, for whenever Emily wanted to emerge, and braced herself for whatever the older agent would have to say to her.
It was a while later that Emily came out of her bedroom dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and she didn't even cast a glance back as she headed straight for her front door.
"Em-" JJ jumped up, panicked, and followed her, "Em, wait, please," but Emily was out of the door and pulling it closed behind her before JJ could catch her. Palms slamming against the wood, JJ lay her forehead against it. She frowned, eyes tight closed, as her hands curled into fists. Pain erupted in the bones of her hand as she pound her fist against the door and, with a frustrated howl, JJ sank to the floor and lay her head in her hands.
It was already dark when Emily finally returned. She dripped onto the carpet, her hair lank and wet from the rain. JJ, sitting on the sofa, where she had been for most of the day, stood and turned to face her. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and it struck Emily that it wasn't twenty-four hours ago that they were in bed, and she had been marvelling at how happy they were. It should have been a warning sign; she'd gotten too comfortable, too relaxed. For the first time in a long time, things were good. She should have known it wouldn't last. It never had before, so, why now?
JJ's eyes were red-rimmed, her face swollen from crying. Emily crossed the floor quickly, pulling the exhausting looking blonde into her arms, resorting to comforting JJ, because it was easier than looking into her guilt ridden face. She smoothed down JJ's hair, shushing her, softly. JJ's hands curled against the fabric of her sweatshirt, clinging tightly, wringing water from it. She didn't care that she was being soaked by the rain Emily had brought in with her.
"I can't do long distance, Jayje." She muttered, softly. "I just...I can't."
"I told Strauss I'm not going." JJ said, stepping back and wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. Emily stared, dumbfounded. "What? You're more important to me than some job."
Shaking her head, her hair falling limply around her pale, sallow face, Emily gaped at her. "I-I don't know what to say."
Shrugging, JJ folded her arms across her chest. "Don't say anything." And Emily knew the discussion, the one they hadn't even had, was over. "Do I get to be mad about you not answering your phone all day, now?"
"I'm sorry." Emily shook her head again, lamely, without the words she needed to express herself. Should she argue? Tell JJ to go? She ought to. In JJ's eyes, she could see the wait, the want, the desperation for...permission? Her blessing? But Emily couldn't move her lips, couldn't make the words come up. Selfishly, she said nothing. It had taken more than three decades for her to find someone she loved as much as JJ. Selfish as it might be, pathetic as it might be, she wasn't about to wave her happily off into the sunset. Stoically, they stared at one another, very much at an impasse. Deadlocked. JJ waited, waited for Emily to say anything. Emily waited for the moment to pass.
Eventually, it was the blonde who caved. Her shoulders dropped, and Emily saw all of the fight go out of her, and the crushing weight of guilt fell heavy in her stomach.
"I'm gonna go to bed." JJ said, her voice quiet, monotonous, heavy with a grim acceptance. There was a moment, as she walked past, as her shoulder brushed against Emily's, when Em knew she should have said something. She inhaled, opened her mouth and...nothing. The moment passed, quick and silent as a breath, and JJ was gone, the bedroom door shutting softly behind her.
That night, Emily couldn't bring herself to lay beside her. Instead, in the early hours, JJ heard the soft click of the spare bedroom door as it opened and closed. Curling in on herself, she pressed her face into the pillows, breathing in deeply the scent of her girlfriend, wishing to all hell that one of them had the humility to admit they needed the other right now, knowing stubbornness and ego would keep them apart, and neither of them would get a good nights sleep.
the eighteenth.
nothing burns like the cold in your eyes.
The week that followed was frosty to say the least. JJ left early Sunday morning, after a quiet and borderline painful breakfast, during which they uttered barely three sentences to each other. The TV was on as a distraction, and JJ rushed through her cereal, the tension too much for her. With the briefest of kisses, she left and Emily closed the door tight behind her, heaved a great sigh and went about the rest of her day feeling as though she was carrying a storm cloud above her head. She was moody and miserable, and, although she sat in front of her laptop all day, entirely unproductive. Her ears burned with the effort of waiting for her phone to ring, her fingers constantly twitching for it. A surge of guilt would build inside, and she would almost do it, but then the guilt would be replaced by an indignance, and the urge to text would be replaced by an ugly resentment, resentment that JJ had initially taken the job without even talking to her, and resentment that JJ hadn't yet text her. It was cyclical and irritating and, eventually, Emily launched her phone across the room, where it landed on the sofa with a soft thunk, just so it would be out of reach of her twitching hands. Overall, Sunday did not go well, at all.
Monday was worse. On Monday, they had to go into the office. On Monday, they had to put smiles on their faces in front of the team and act like the happy couple everyone thought they were, the happy couple they had been on Friday night. It might have worked, too, if they didn't work at the heard of the FBI, with a team of profilers. The smile JJ cast her when she walked into the conference room was just a little too tight, the hand Emily rested on her shoulder as she passed her chair a little too hesitant, and, for the rest of the day, they were each dodging questions from Penelope and Morgan, respectively.
"Just drop it, okay?" Emily eventually snapped at Morgan, who frowned at her with the eyes of a wounded puppy. It worked though, and his questions stopped. She heard later from Reid that JJ and Penelope had had a similar interaction. Penelope was quiet for the rest of the day and JJ, Emily could see, felt responsible.
JJ spent the week moping around, barely leaving her office for anything other than to make coffee. It seemed the coffee was the only thing keeping her going, because there were dark circles beneath her eyes that certainly hadn't been there before the weekend, and, every time Emily saw her face, she felt the gnawing of guilt. Normally, they'd alternate whose place they stayed at during the week. It was fluid, it just happened that they'd be at someone's apartment and crash there. That was the comfortable, easy routine they'd gotten themselves into, months ago. This week, they each slept alone. It was cold, unusual and uncomfortable. JJ missed the warmth of Emily's body pressed against her back, and Emily, after changing her sheets on Sunday, missed the scent of JJ's strawberry shampoo on her pillows, a smell that, in the past, she had complained was far too sweet. Now, the smell of her detergent kept her awake and seemed to burn at her nose. Frustrated and exhausted, Emily ended up on her sofa, and she still couldn't sleep.
By Friday, even Hotch had to ask, in passing, of course, whether they were alright.
"Is everything okay?" The question was directed to Emily, when she came to drop files off in his office. He said it with an airiness that was entirely out of character, and Emily had to roll her eyes. He didn't even look at her when he asked, instead his eyes were trained on the file he held in an attempt at nonchalance.
"Everything is...fine." She said, tensely.
"Clearly." Hotch quipped, setting down the paper and glancing up at her, with one eyebrow raised. "This is about the job?"
For three days now, the effort it had taken her not to blame him over it had been eating her alive. Now that he had brought it up, the urge rose to the surface and Emily had to bite her tongue. "I really don't want to talk to you about this," She snapped, harshly. "You, of all people, could have given me a little heads up."
"You know that's not my place." Hotch defended, though his voice remained soft. "Not only is it not my place, professionally, to talk about another agent's prospects, it's also not my place, as your friend, to insert myself into your relationship that way."
Much as Emily wanted somebody to blame right now, and much as she would have liked for that somebody to be Hotch, because, of everyone, he was the one who would take her attacks the best, she knew that he was right. She all but threw herself into the chair opposite his desk, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. Hotch tilted his head, observing her, wondering at how childlike and innocent and lost she looked in that moment.
"It's three years, Hotch." She said, pathetically, as though trying to justify herself. He just looked at her, without judgement, without accusation. He just...looked. "I think I destroyed everything." She said, with a noise that was some sort of hybrid between a laugh and a cry. "Four days ago...everything was great. We were great. And now...now we can barely look at each other. I did that. I made her stay."
Hotch was shaking his head now. "JJ made that decision." He said, gravely. "She's a grown woman, Emily. Her choices aren't your responsibility. It's not for you to blame yourself. I'm sure that's not what she wants, it's just-it's going to take time for things to settle, some time for her to let go of this dream."
"It's not even a dream I knew she had, Hotch!" Emily defended, sitting upright in her seat at the power of her indignance, "It's not even a dream she knew she had! Strauss put the idea into her head and-"
"Is it any surprise to you that JJ wants to help people? You, of all people, know who she is. You know it's in her nature to help, and, given an opportunity like this, is it any surprise to you that it excited her?" Hotch raised an eyebrow at her and, like a petulant child, Emily scowled at him as she sank back into her seat. Then, her anger melted, replaced by a deep, rotting sadness. This was the sadness Emily knew she would feel if JJ left. And it was, she knew, the sadness JJ was feeling right now, while Emily held her back.
"I can't do long distance, Hotch," She said, again. It was what she had been telling herself all week. "Unless," She inhaled, deeply, steadying herself for the words that were about to come out of her mouth, "Unless I go with her."
She laughed at the expression on Hotch's face, at the way his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "I know," She said, nodding. "It sounds crazy. But-" Shaking her head, Emily searched for the words. "The worst thing would be not being with her. You know? And I think, right now, that's where we're headed. So, if I have to go to the middle East to be with her, then...then, I guess that's what I'm going to do." Nodding, more to herself than to him, she pushed herself up out of the chair. "Yeah. That's what I'm going to do. Thanks, Hotch." She cast over her shoulder, as she turned and fled from the room.
Hotch, bewildered, watched her go. "You're...welcome?"