Chapter Five: Go

March 28th 2015, 4:12pm:

JJ only usually took showers at work if she'd utilized the gym equipment at the end of the day, or if a local case had caused her to become more intimate than she'd like with blood or guts, or whatever else an ubsub had deemed necessary to be on the outside of the human body. There was just something about communal showers that had always been unappealing to her – not to mention the generally useless shampoo/conditioner combo mounted in a little box on the wall, or the fact that the FBI budget didn't typically stretch to half-way decent towels.

For the most part, it just wasn't worth the effort, especially when she usually left feeling more unclean than she had when she went in.

But on this occasion, she didn't need to wash foreign bodily fluids from her hair, and she didn't care that drying herself with the coarsest towels on the planet was probably going to wreak havoc on her sensitive skin - she just needed a minute to regain her balance and ensure she withstood this sudden turn of events. Something told her she wouldn't be relaying this particular situation to Hotch next time he asked her: any big events in your life that I should be aware of?

With her fingers splayed against the tile wall, she bowed her head and allowed the hot spray to cascade over her. The dull throb in her mind gradually faded, even as it became bombarded with questions and realizations that she hadn't quite had the chance to consider back in that restroom.

It had been Emily she'd played her little game on last night. It had been Emily she'd dreamt about. Fuck, and Emily now knew she'd dirty-dreamed about her. Of course Emily had had no response, because for Emily, perving on her friends wasn't the norm. How differently was Emily going to act around her now? How differently was she now going to act around Emily? Would they ever be the same again?

She knew, without a doubt, that Emily had already deemed this a non-issue, because that's just who Emily was. And she should have been able to let it go too, allow the embarrassment to wash over her and categorize it as a topic that, at a later date, would probably be laughed about. Except she couldn't, because, for some inexplicable reason, trivializing it like that felt wrong. So maybe the real question here was actually: did she want them to return to normal?

That was a question too complicated for right now; that would probably always be a question too complicated. Emily was one of her best friends. She closed her eyes and groaned to herself. Emily is one of my best friends.

Reluctantly peeking up to check the clock that could be partially seen above her stall, she promptly shut off the shower. Her minutes were up.

In her haste to leave that suddenly claustrophobic bullpen, she'd forgotten that she and Morgan were in the middle of something – Morgan, who would very definitely have a big question on his lips when she returned. Fuck.

And just as she'd thought, before she'd even reached her desk, the words were rolling off of his tongue.

"Jayje… what's the deal?" He stood as she approached, a certain air of chivalry in the instinctive gesture, and a genuine sense of concern in his eyes as he took in her wet-haired, somehow-sterner appearance. "Are you okay?"

"I don't think my lunch agreed with me." She replied with a purposeful scrunch of her nose as she sat down opposite him, before adding, "Perhaps I should have gotten the salad like you."

There was no way she could tell him the truth – especially since she hadn't quite simplified the truth in her own mind – and there was also no way she could blow him off with a digression about the assignment. Considering her recent history, it was pretty much a definite that the worst-case-scenarios in his mind were off the charts, and totally bypassing his concern was only going to encourage it. Hopefully he just bought her bad-lunch lie.

"Can I get you anything?" He sat down and the expression on his face caused a small smile to pull at JJ's lips. Whoever landed this guy one day was going to be the luckiest woman on the planet.

She placed her hand against his. "Perhaps a speed-reader to help us with this colossal task?"

"I can do that." He beamed, looking over his shoulder to Reid. "Yo, Boy Wonder!"

As Morgan beckoned Reid over, JJ's eyes naturally fell upon Emily. Morgan's booming voice had peeked her attention too, of course, but JJ wasn't oblivious to the fact that, while Emily had looked as though she had been working, she'd actually been focused on her from the second she'd returned to the bullpen.

Curling her lips into a reassuring smile, an olive branch of sorts, she waited for Emily to return it, and then flicked her head in indication for her to come over. "Don't think you get out of helping."

"Damn." Emily grinned like the thin ice she'd been certain she and JJ were walking on had suddenly been reinforced, and dramatically pushed herself to her feet. As she approached the desk that JJ and Morgan, and now Reid, occupied, she cocked her head to the side to get a better view of the obvious manifesto in front of them. "Who's the author?"

"A guy named Matthew Jacobs." JJ responded, handing a photocopy of the document to Reid, who apparently wasn't quite as liberal with Morgan and personal space as Emily was with her.

The brunette was stood behind her, practically leaning over her, with one hand on the desk and her other resting against her seatback. The concept of personal space had never been a thing with them, nor with her and Garcia, or Emily and Garcia. She figured it was a woman thing.

But now it felt different – not necessarily bad different – and when Emily briefly diverted her gaze from the document before them and looked directly at her, the whole world, for a split second, changed.

It was like a home movie that had been recorded over another, where the stills overlapped badly until you were left with a mishmash of both images. She was still in the bullpen, still sat at her desk, still inches from Emily… Except they were alone, and vivid color, like a blurred photo of New York City traffic, ran right through them. It looked strange, like they shouldn't be there, like the two shouldn't mix, and yet it felt oddly apt – the exhilarating and vibrant, and the calm and light.

It was, she realized, a conflicting combination of what biker-Emily, and regular-Emily made her feel. It was that which relied on the other in order to exist – with no dark, there would be no light. With no biker-Emily, there likely would have been no… whatever this suddenly calm sensation even was.

And then she looked away, and seamlessly blended herself back into her explanation before Morgan's profiling skills kicked up a notch or two. She didn't need him figuring out her predicament before she herself had.

"He murdered twelve women in the 90's, and has been on death row ever since he was apprehended in 1996. He admitted to all twelve counts of first degree murder, but refused to give up the burial plots of the last three victims."

"Let me guess," Emily frowned, her eyes now fixed on the document, "his execution date is coming up."

"Monday, actually." Morgan replied, leaning back in his chair to stretch out his tired muscles. They'd been at this for too long, and something told him they'd be working late into the night. "JJ and I interviewed him this morning but got nothing."

"He's probably pushing for a stay of execution." Reid provided, already on the sixteenth page of the manifesto. "And by how far removed from reality he seems to be, he's certain he's going to get it."

"But why would someone on death row want that?" Morgan held out his palms. "I mean, they're still going to be on death row – that ruling isn't going to be overturned unless new evidence comes to light. So why postpone the inevitable?"

"Because he didn't do it…" JJ suddenly realized. "The reason this is so nonsensical is because it's false." She held up the manifesto and dropped it back to the desk. "When two hundred and forty pages fall, our penance will be up. He's talking about a calendar." She looked to each of her colleagues and clarified her point. "The statute of limitations is almost up."

"He's been stalling…" Emily said, the same realization in her own voice. "And nineteen years is a long time to stall." She lifted her eyes. "Unless the reason you're stalling means more to you than your life."

"Child?" Morgan suggested, and Reid shook his head, his nose still buried in the manifesto.

"The language is too romanticized." He narrowed his eyes, and then, snapping the document closed, concluded: "Lover."

March 28th 2015, 9:06pm:

It was far earlier than she'd anticipated when JJ finally left work, Emily in tow. Morgan and Reid had headed home straight from the prison, where their discoveries had been left in the hands of the necessary authorities. The case would fall into their lap again soon enough but, for now, it was off of their priority list.

"Well, this is where I leave you, Jennifer." Emily stopped, and then flicked her head in the direction of where her bike was parked.

And JJ, for her part, inwardly shook her head at herself for how foolishly romantic she found the words to be.

Nothing about their day to day lives was romantic; nothing about their relationship was romantic. And yet, stood in that parking structure, with her given name still echoing beautifully off of the walls, she felt like she was starring in one of those dumb Hollywood love stories that she typically avoided like the plague.

In all likelihood, it was probably just a novelty – like when you dream about someone, and then on every occasion you see them for the following day, you find yourself with an odd sensation in your stomach. Well, it wasn't like that, it basically was that – with a few more complications thrown in.

She held back the groan that emerged in her throat for the reminder that Emily knew she'd had a dirty dream about her last night, and instead tried to keep ahold of the novelty theory: tomorrow, things would be back to normal.

"Well…" She smiled. "Goodnight."

She quickly turned and headed towards her car, her mind waiting for the sound of boots against concrete to indicate that Emily had walked away too. It wasn't instant, and when the brunette did walk away, her footsteps seemed hesitant.

JJ did shake her head at herself that time. So she was overanalyzing Emily's footsteps now too? Clearly she wasn't going to score any points in the sanity category today.

God, she needed out of this place. She needed some mindless reality TV and hopefully some sleep that didn't involve painting her best friend in a more-than-friendly light. But as she started her car, the sound of an approaching engine froze her instantly.

Her hand still gripping her keys, her gaze drifted slowly, cautiously, to her left, and there, beside her, was the sight that, so quickly and so easily, had become almost addictive.

Fuck… Even now, when she knew who was behind the mask, it had the same effect. No. It had a far more intense effect and, honestly, it scared her. Something told her that a good night's sleep wasn't going to erase the novelty. Something, even in that second, told her that this novelty was actually going to test her even more than those elusive hoops Hotch continuously wanted her to jump through.

For a moment, a long moment, she simply stared, waiting. Waiting and hoping that someone or something would tell her her next move… Until Emily held out her hand, like some noble prince requesting a dance, and, in a way that instantly painted a playful smile in JJ's mind, shrugged.

JJ very quickly found that smile reflected against her own lips. She shook her head and laughed breathily, shut off her engine and slipped from the vehicle. "I suppose you think you're cute."

Emily flipped up her visor and grinned. "I do, actually. And I was being serious…" She held out her hand again. "Take a ride with me."

"On that thing?" JJ took an instant, wide-eyed step back. "No, no, no, no, no."

"I promise to keep you safe, JJ." Emily said sincerely, and hoped JJ knew that that extended to also mean that they'd get past this arguably awkward turn of events.

Swallowing back another of those absurd sensations, JJ laughed and shook her head for a second time – a nervous gesture, she couldn't deny. How could she possibly be nervous around someone she'd known for years?

"It's not you I'm worried about." She finally replied, and folded her arms across her chest to solidify where she stood on the matter. "It's riding a big, heavy, relatively useless contraption at fifty miles per hour with no kind of safety net should a semi decide it wants to play chicken."

Emily chuckled. "I guarantee you JJ, if a semi wants to play chicken, there is no vehicle on the planet – short of a tank – strong enough to protect you." She flicked her head towards JJ's small SUV. "And yet you're planning to ride that thing home at some point tonight, aren't you?"

JJ looked behind her, and then back to Emily, incredulous. "Are you seriously comparing the safety of my SUV to your death-mobile?"

A rich laugh burst from Emily's lips. "Yes, JJ. I am." She nodded. "Because I'll be the one in control of it, and I already promised you I'd keep you safe. Kinda gotta keep that promise now."

Emily winked, and JJ's heart melted for that wink. She found herself fighting the urge to swoon like a prepubescent girl at a Justin Bieber concert – a fight she was most definitely losing. When had that happened? Fuck, when and how had any of this happened? And why now? Now was not the time. Now was the time for her to be fighting her way back to the top of the career ladder, not digging herself deeper into another hole that made no real sense to her.

Before she could lose herself to the voice in her head any further, a helmet came hurtling towards her and she caught it by instinct alone. She eyed it briefly, and then looked back to Emily, relenting. "You won't go too fast?"

"I'll let you decide whether we go fast or slow." Emily responded, and JJ opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

Shaking her head as she struggled to come up with an escape plan, she eventually smiled – though mostly grimaced - and looked back to Emily. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope." Emily replied – a hint of smugness in her tone – and scooted herself forward a little and patted the seat behind her.

Looking skeptically to the bike, JJ sighed and hesitantly placed the helmet on her head. She looked once again to Emily, who nodded in encouragement, before slipping it the whole way down.

With the padding inside, it fit rather snug and her head instantly felt twelve pounds heavier. It was like looking at the world through a fish bowl, and she could hear herself breathing – something that lead her to become acutely aware of just how unsteady that breathing was. She just couldn't work out if that was because of Emily, or because, as she'd said, she was about to climb aboard a death-mobile.

When Emily dropped her visor and flicked her head in an indication to hop on, she gingerly climbed astride the machine and found herself suddenly unsure where to put her hands.

It was Emily, but she felt, in this regard at least, like she really was a stranger, with which the etiquette of personal space hadn't quite been decided upon. It was bad enough that, at some point, Emily was going to sit too, ultimately placing them in an ass-to-crotch position… and if she couldn't even figure out where to put her hands, how was that going to be any less awkward?

Perhaps this was a bad idea. Perhaps she should have considered the logistics of this before she abandoned logic altogether. Perhaps, instead of riding off into the sunset with the catalyst of the day's confusion, she should just go home and place some actual effort into simplifying that confusion.

And right on the other side of that conflicted silence, Emily, sensing the blonde's likely imminent departure, looked to JJ and pointed to the handles beneath the seat. She paused for a moment, unsure of her next suggestion, before timidly taking one of JJ's hands and placing it against her hip. "Or you can put your hands there…"

Sometimes, instinct is too quick to catch, and if it wasn't for the helmets they were donning, JJ would have kissed Emily in that moment – something that reaffirmed to her that she was on terribly dangerous ground. She didn't trust her instincts enough these days to allow herself to be in a position where they were so damn powerful.

And yet she didn't climb from the bike.

Instead, she shifted her other hand to Emily's hip in a blind experiment - mostly to see the reaction it would evoke within herself, but it was actually Emily's response that took her by surprise. Beneath her palm, Emily tensed, and somehow, it was enough for her to relax.

But Emily didn't move, instead watching her through her tinted visor, and it took JJ several long seconds to realize she was waiting for a green light, permission.

Her eyes flicked briefly to her car – her safe, simple car – and she pondered that tightrope she'd been walking for the past four months. This was the beginning of the end for that tightrope, she knew. And yet…

Looking slowly back to Emily, she pressed their helmets together and whispered: "Go."