Author's Note: Not trying to offend anyone with the term 'dirty bisexual', for the record. It was just a phrase we jokingly tossed around in college (we, including myself, who at the time was "bisexual"). I do not think bisexuals are dirty lol. Please don't send me any hate.
Chapter Three: Bikergate
March 27th 2015, 1:12pm:
It was Friday afternoon and JJ and Garcia – upon Garcia's say-so – had spent the whole of their lunch break in a local diner figuring out the puzzle that the analyst had dubbed BikerGate. Bizarrely, JJ welcomed the act of deeming it a puzzle. It was a reprieve; a second to think about anything other than the pieces she was missing from herself, and the pieces she could no longer force to fit.
So she'd happily told Garcia about the Panera bag and her theory that tagged along with that. She'd told her about the effect the stranger seemed to have on her – something she'd most definitely regret at a later date. And when the analyst had asked what kind of bike her mysterious stranger rode, she'd simply quirked her eyebrow and answered, "I think this is the point where I tell you: a red one."
The only part she'd left out, of course, were the events of that first real interaction months ago, mostly because she and Garcia didn't really talk about that night. JJ imagined that was because Garcia didn't want to relive it just as much as she didn't, which made sense: there's something about finding your best friend close to death on a bathroom floor that doesn't exactly encourage future discussions.
But when Garcia had made some banal inquiry on the ride back to headquarters in regard to whether she and her stranger had ever interacted, JJ's instant guilty expression had quickly prompted the analyst's omniscience. Secrecy was a non-option at that point.
"So they just like… appeared out of nowhere and pulled you to your feet, like some knight in shining leather?" Garcia asked, stunned.
"Pretty much." JJ nodded, pulling into her assigned parking spot.
"And they didn't say anything?" Garcia turned to fully face her friend. "The whole interaction was silent?"
JJ shook her head. "Not one word."
"Do you realize how hot that is?" The analyst blurted, clearly taking JJ by surprise. "I mean, do you have any comprehension of how many people would kill for some dark, brooding stranger on a motorcycle to magically appear and take them by the hand and…" She purposely stopped herself, fanning her face and sighing indulgently. "Jayje, you have like… the ultimate fantasy, on steroids, in the palm of your hand."
JJ rolled her eyes and unclipped her seatbelt.
It wasn't like that. The only interaction she'd had with this guy had been that night four months ago, and she hadn't exactly been in the best state then. She couldn't see him, but he'd seen her – and how could he possibly have liked what he'd seen? Besides, the prospect of having this in the palm of her hand, truthfully, burnt. Too much, too soon. It would probably always be too soon.
"Oh my god." Garcia's eyes widened suddenly, totally bypassing JJ's silence. "This is going to become some Fifty Shades of Grey shit." Pointing to JJ, she said sternly, "If he tells you he wants to show you his playroom, just say no!"
With mock obedience, JJ nodded. "Just say no. Got it."
"Or you could say yes…" Garcia smirked, to which JJ tossed her a look of warning. "I'm sorry, honey. I know I'm being pushy. I guess I'm just…" She bunched up her shoulders and lowered her voice. "Afraid that you've gone from one extreme to another. I don't want to lose you again."
JJ, who had been in the process of climbing out of the car, seamlessly turned back with those words and placed her hand against her friend's arm. "I'm right here. You're not going to lose me again. I'm not going to lose me again."
The ripple effect of her actions had become more apparent to her in recent days than it had in recent months. Her return to fieldwork had apparently left everyone in extra-smothering mode, which, while it was taking its toll on her, was also a reminder that her life wasn't hers and only hers.
The fact that they cared was a given, but it was moments like this - looking a friend in the face while they're at their most open about the topic - that she couldn't ignore how selfish she'd been. Reid had been the worst, but Garcia had definitely earned her spot in second place.
"Confining yourself to this rigid, don't-feel-anything, don't-step-out-of-line place is losing yourself, JJ." Garcia responded hesitantly. "Morgan told me how you were with this last case, second-guessing your every move. That's not you. And I know I'm probably placing too many eggs in your biker-stranger's basket, but it's just because I don't want you to…"
The analyst trailed off, and after almost ten seconds, JJ nodded her head in encouragement.
"I don't want you to become Emily." Garcia quietly finished, and JJ sat back. She knew what that meant.
"A person doesn't have to be romantically involved with someone to be okay, Garcia." She shot back, finding herself instantly defensive on Emily's behalf – though, arguably on her own behalf too. "I don't need a guy in order to not feel lonely, or fulfilled, or myself."
"I know that, Jayje. Loneliness is nothing to do with the amount or quality of the people around you." Garcia responded softly, parroting something JJ had struggled to explain to Reid several days ago. "But it is something within yourself that feeds off of those rules that Emily seems to have set, and that you…" seem to be intent on setting for yourself, too.
She shook her head, knowing she'd unintentionally hit a nerve with her friend. She tried again.
"You don't need a man, you're right. But you do need to let yourself be human once in a while, because Emily is something beyond superhuman, and that has to be an incredibly lonely standard to set for yourself."
JJ's defenses softened then and her mind drifted; and for an unexpected second, her heart ached almost to the point of being physically painful.
Emily, without fail, had been this silent warrior by her side, even back in the beginning when they barely knew each other. She was that person for everyone. But Garcia was right – she was something beyond superhuman – and it made her wonder just how many times Emily had needed someone and no one had a clue. Because of those standards she'd set for herself.
It was easy to assume nothing could shake her – it was an image she perpetually encouraged – but just how authentic was it? And what had really prompted its creation?
They all knew of that particularly prominent part of Emily's history, the one that had cost her her life for all those months, but JJ also knew it was far more complex than the information they'd acquired through implications, and actually been given, suggested. She knew that, because she and Emily had been to similar places. It was Emily against the world, just like it had been JJ against the world. Just like, she couldn't deny, it arguably still was JJ against the world.
Maybe she really was on her way to becoming Emily.
Just as the silence became a little too heavy for both women, the sound of an engine on the far side of the parking lot diverted each of their attention.
It took JJ a moment to notice the oddly content smile that had formed on her face, but Garcia noticed it immediately.
Looking between JJ and who she accurately presumed to be the blonde's mysterious stranger, the analyst grinned. She hadn't seen such an expression of pure hope on JJ's face in… It had been far too long. Perhaps the whole thing really was crazy, but when there was genuine life in her friend's eyes, what did it matter?
"I take it all back." She decided, her eyes fixed on the stranger out of the back window of JJ's SUV. "You seriously need to make your stranger less of a stranger. Who, by the way," She frowned, cocking her head to the side, "I'm certain is a woman."
Through the wing mirror, JJ paid a little closer attention to the subtle curves she could now make out following Garcia's observation, and felt more than mildly ridiculous for not noticing it sooner.
But that revelation didn't dull the effect her stranger had on her, but rather intensified it in such a way that some of those puzzle pieces she'd been grappling with seemed to shift and slot into place. She still couldn't make out the finished picture, but she felt comfortable enough to blindly accept that those pieces were exactly where they were meant to be.
As she watched her biker alight the motorcycle with similar elegance to several days ago and take confident strides towards the elevators, her lips parted slightly, making way for words that never actually saw it to fruition. Because there just weren't any words. It made no sense how much everything made sense in that moment.
When the elevator doors closed behind her stranger, she straightened up a little and returned her attention to Garcia- "Well… I wouldn't say that's a bad thing." –before slipping out of the car with an implicative smile that she just knew was driving her friend crazy.
And Garcia, of course, couldn't get her questions out fast enough, her eyes wide and curious as she hastily scurried along behind JJ. "You mean like… because that's the decision made for you? Now she's female it couldn't possibly go anywhere? Or… Or?"
JJ smirked as she silently stepped aboard the elevator and held her purse in front of her, her eyes fixed to the counter above the door.
Garcia had no clue that she was no stranger to women, and the temptation to leave her and that currently gawky expression of hers to wonder was intense. But when the analyst's eyes softened enough that she began to resemble a dog waiting (not-so) patiently for its owner to throw its ball, her resolve began to crumble.
Waiting until the doors opened out onto the twelfth floor and the BAU offices, she finally put her friend out of her misery – sort of. "Quite the opposite, actually."
"Wait-what-" Garcia fumbled, and then glared. JJ had purposely stalled. "You and I are having a conversation later, missy."
"A conversation about… what?" Emily asked with a curious frown as the two women approached the little nest of desks that she and Morgan typically occupied.
"The fact that JJ apparently-"
Garcia quickly found herself with a hand slapped over her mouth, her instinctive response to which was to push her tongue out from between her lips.
"Ewww!" JJ sharply pulled her hand away, wiped her palm over the sleeve of her friend's jacket. "Why would you do that?"
"Oh don't pretend you're not partial to a little lady tongue." Garcia returned, a playful challenge in her eyes.
Blushing furiously, not for the first time at Garcia's hand, JJ found herself ungodly grateful that no one other than Emily was within earshot. Though, of course, if there were others around, it was fair to say that she wouldn't be in this awkward position in the first place – there's no way Garcia would be so liberal with the topic in front of their male teammates.
Opting to play this a different way, she leant herself against Emily's desk right beside where the brunette was sitting, folded her arms across her chest and, with her eyes fixed on Garcia, leant down to whisper to Emily. "What's the word for someone who becomes fixated on another person's issues, simply because they're trying to avoid their own issues?"
Emily pretended to ponder for a moment, her lips dramatically pursed, until she abruptly clapped her hands together and pointed sharply towards Garcia. "Projection."
"Ahh, projection. That's it." JJ nodded. "You ever heard of projection, Pen?"
"That was one time." The analyst glared, and JJ smirked, absentmindedly studying her nails with an air of arrogance about her.
"And, please, do remind me how freaked out you were that you might be gay after you realized how much you enjoyed it?"
"Now who's projecting?" Garcia retorted, her eyebrows quirked.
"Oh, I'm not projecting anything." JJ responded easily, folding her arms back across her chest and squaring her gaze on her analyst friend. "I'm not concerned that I might be gay. I fully accept that I'm not."
Garcia scoffed. "Well now you're just a liar."
"Not a liar." JJ replied with a firm shake of her head. "I'm one of those, um…" She leaned into Emily again. "What's the word for those people who are attracted to both men and women?"
"It's not one word." Emily responded plainly, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes fixed on Garcia, in mimic of JJ's stance. "Two words. Dirty bisexual."
"That's it." JJ nodded, finding great amusement in the fact that she'd taken the weight out of Garcia's newfound gossip. "I'm one of those dirty bisexuals."
Garcia, for ten whole seconds, remained quiet, her narrowed eyes flicking between the two women in her presence who seemed rather proud of their efforts to silence her.
"I hate it when you two gang up on me like this." She eventually said, and then, out of nowhere, her scowl softened to a grin and her eyes stopped on JJ. "But I love that you're back in a world where making jokes at your own expense is permitted."
"Oh, I'm not joking." JJ replied seriously as she hopped down off of Emily's desk- "Why have one when you can have both?" -and then sauntered off towards her own desk, leaving two dumbfounded women in her wake.
She might be adept at second-guessing herself these days, but if she still had the ability to leave the most unshakeable woman on the planet and the most in-tune woman on the planet stunned, she'd take it.
March 27th 2015, 6:19pm:
Five hours ago, when she'd walked away from Emily and Garcia, JJ had heard Garcia utter something to the effect of, I think our innocent little blonde returned from the dark side with her own little dark side. To which Emily had responded, perhaps she always possessed that dark side, but only now does she have the courage to flaunt it.
She'd smiled at Emily's response at the time but, as she was about to realize, it had provoked something else within her too.
Stepping out onto the third level of the parking structure, just in time for her stranger to flick down their visor and conceal their identity, JJ found herself startled by the sensation coursing through her. Because it wasn't disappointment she felt, or even nerves - it was unfaltering, and intense, confidence.
Her stranger looked directly at her, seemingly caught off-guard by her presence, and in their fumble - just like she herself had many months ago – dropped their keys to the ground.
She didn't hesitate. She strode purposefully towards them, and they, she noticed, didn't move an inch. They remained almost rigidly still, in fact, like they didn't even trust their own breath in her presence. She liked the role reversal, honestly, and the smirk that pulled at her lips definitely reflected the much-missed sense of liberation pulsing through her veins. She certainly wasn't second-guessing herself now.
Keeping her eyes fixed on her masked biker, she lowered herself gracefully to the ground – feet planted together, so as to keep her modesty with the skirt she was wearing – and reached for the keys.
This time, in her crouching position, she didn't look like a runner, but something a lot less innocent. It wasn't consciously an innuendo she was striving for, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't purposely alter her expression to one a little more suggestive as she peered upwards.
Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she deliberately tossed the keys in her palm up and down three times - a move that caused her stranger to almost, almost, take a step back. But apparently they didn't quite trust themselves to do that either, because they soon returned their feet to their original position and stared downwards, awaiting JJ's next move.
To JJ, it was a game – payback, perhaps, for the upper hand they'd unknowingly held since that first encounter. She couldn't see their face, but she sure did enjoy imagining the vast array of expressions adorning it. The rush was intense, every one of the seconds she boldly remained in that position causing something powerful and invigorating to flood her chest, even as it clearly unnerved her stranger.
She recognized the feeling, of course. It was one of those residual pieces from her other world, bleeding into this one – something she'd feared every single second of the past four months. And yet, right there, in this unknown person's presence, it didn't scare her that she may slip from her tightrope. It, oddly, told her that perhaps a little fumble was necessary.
No… perhaps being human was necessary.
Was it possible that the equation really did work in the opposite way to what she'd resigned herself to? Was it possible that it wasn't remaining nonchalant to a fall that was going to throw her off balance, but actually being so acutely aware of the dangers that she didn't really move at all?
Finally, reluctantly, she pushed herself up with as much grace as she'd lowered herself, and reached out to turn her stranger's leather-clad palm. Placing the keys there, she eyed the tinted visor shielding their eyes, searching for just one small glimpse of human-being, and instead found herself confronted by one of her other senses.
She knew that scent… She didn't know what it was, but she knew it. And she didn't know how she knew it, but she knew it. Bizarrely, it made her think of snowstorms and red wine.
With that, she slowly slipped her hand away, and with a deliberate nod, turned to head towards her car.
She could have sworn that she felt fingers grasping minutely at her own as she pulled away, but she knew that, in all likelihood, she'd made it up. She was probably also making up the certainty that her stranger's eyes were burning into her back for every step she took, but that didn't matter, because she wasn't making up the feeling it evoked. Just like every other time in their presence, she felt alive.
It was only once she'd climbed inside her vehicle and closed the door behind her, that her newfound confidence faltered. She pursed her lips and let out steadying breaths, even as she struggled to contain her smile.
The JJ that existed two years ago would never have been so bold… and yet she'd exuded what was arguably more arrogance than confidence so easily. What if, in her darkness, she hadn't lost herself, but found herself?
She smiled. What a liberating concept.
Negative: You quite possibly crossed a line with a stranger.
Positive: You very definitely crossed a line with a stranger… :)
