A/N I was so close to updating yesterday, I literally had the computer booted up and I was just about to start writing… but reality, like it tends to do, it got in the way. So I figured since I was woken up early by the arrival of our contractor (I had almost forgotten that 7AM existed!), I would take advantage of the time and write now! I apologize if this is a bit rough, but I literally got four hours of sleep, and I'm all jittery on caffeine now! But the newfound happiness in the story has been spurring me on inspiration-wise, so the writing feels a lot more natural and easy now, which means I have all the more reason to update as regularly as possible!

-Nightshade

I don't own Criminal Minds! (sadly)

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Sixteen

Emily had brightened up from the moment I had told her that she was going back to work. I had teased her on how I had never seen someone so hyped up about getting to flip through files about serial killers, but the improvement in her mood lifted mine as well. Getting her to go to sleep the night before her firearms requalification was like getting Henry to sleep on Christmas Eve. Of course her staying asleep was another story altogether. It felt as if I had barely slipped beneath the waters of sleep before I was yanked back out by the subtle whimper emanated by the slumbering woman beside me. Ever since her incident I had become more conditioned to the subtleties about her, the slightest stiffness that meant she was encountering a difficult memory, the crease between her eyebrows when she was pushing something away, the slightest groan or whimper that meant she was having a nightmare. I pushed away the darkening fog that clouded my mind after the long day and focused on the restless woman beside me. The dim lights of the city painted her face in shades of grey, accentuating the creases on her forehead as she cringed away from whatever images her subconscious had conjured up. Just the sight of it sent a stab of pain to my heart, and like I always did, I forgot that this wasn't the first time I had found her like this, I forgot that this had become a routine, and that she would be okay, I simply had to stop it, to shield her from all the evils I could. I gently brushed my hand over her smooth cheek, wincing as I felt the muscles taut beneath as she clenched her jaw. I smoothed out the worried creases that marred her pretty face, and I tried to mentally prepare myself for the moment that when she opened her eyes, and they would be filled with fear and agony and they would be lost and scared and filled with tears and desperation and everything that I dreaded her to feel. She was still asleep when tears began to tease their way out from beneath her pale lids. Without warning her eyes shot open and she was frozen in time for a second, her mouth hanging open in confusion and shock. She crumpled almost instantaneously, curling into my chest and sobbing loudly, like she had done most nights. My arms went around her instinctively and protectively, letting her just get it out. In a few seconds or so she composed herself, not wanting too seem too vulnerable. She took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes, fixating on my very soul with her soulful dark depths.

"It was you, you were there with me in Syria, and the bomb went off, and I couldn't find you, I looked everywhere and I was losing consciousness, I could feel it and I couldn't find you before…" she recounted, and I tried not to cry myself at the emotion in her voice. I was stroking her hair and shushing her soothingly like usual.

"Shh, I'm fine, I'm alive and you're alive. It's all over." I reassured, trying to ignore the passage of time. The weak grey light of the young dawn was broaching the horizon, washing out any color in the room, cleansing it. She seemed pacified by that response, simply snuggling back into me like I was an oversized teddy bear. Her small meltdown was put past us as I allowed her to use me as a human pillow, her head rested upon my arm and her arms tight around my waist. The earlier tension in her face had evaporated, leaving her calm and relaxed. I allowed myself to melt away back into sleep. The next time I was awakened was by the screeching of the alarm clock as it announced that it was time to go back to work. The morning was a blur, Em and I grabbing badges and clothing and coffee, rushing to drop Henry off at daycare. It had been weeks since the last time we had both entered the FBI building with work in mind, and Emily was squirming like a kid about to go on stage for the talent show. She was obviously nervous, and it had taken a lot of arguing with the firearms trainer to get him to allow me to be in the shooting range alongside her. There was something comforting about the familiarity of Emily with her long ebony hair tucked away in a ponytail, poised like a panther behind her weapon. The trainer carelessly plopped the Glock 19 in her hands, not bothering to notice how she was strung as taut as a bowstring. He sat back and expected her to start, and she just stood there, quivering. She couldn't pull the trigger, worried as to what her response to the deafening noise would be. I got up; ignoring the odd look the trainer gave me, and stood behind her. I rested my chin on her shoulder, so close that my cheek brushed hers, and wrapped my arms around hers so I was holding onto the gun as well. I ignored the rush of heat southwards in my body, and my mouth went dry at the close contact to Emily, every part of my body that came into contact with hers was on fire. I tried to focus on other things, the dark, musty atmosphere of the shooting range, the irritating noise of the trainer lazily sipping a soda, the trembling of my girlfriend beneath me, anything to push away the tingling arousal. I had to be there for her, right now she wasn't my incredibly beautiful girlfriend, she was scared and in need of reassurance.

"Shh, you know what to do, you'll be fine. You're strong, and no matter how this turns out, I still love you." I soothed. She was really scared that she wouldn't be able to return to her old life, her old job. She gave me a stiff nod, and I held the gun in her hands steady, giving her a soft kiss of encouragement on the back of her jaw. There was a second of silence, before the roaring boom of the bullet ripping to life in the chamber and rocketing across the clearing. Em went stiff in my arms for a second, but then eventually relaxed and stared straight ahead at the bullet hole straight in the middle of the paper target. I received a warm and reassured smile from her, and I slowly backed off, watching her fire perfect scores into the rest of her targets. The trainer looked up from his clipboard and waved me off, indicating that he wanted to talk to Emily. I waited outside the shooting range in nervous anticipation, knowing how disappointed she would be if she didn't pass her firearms requalification. After five minutes or so, she burst out of the door and flung herself at me into an ecstatic hug, squealing with joy.

"I take it you passed?" I joked as she spun me around happily.

"With flying colors!" she chirped, finally putting me back down on my two feet "thank you JJ, without you I couldn't have done any of this, thank you! I love you JJ!" she exclaimed, before throwing me up against the nearest wall and claiming my lips with hers. Her excitement and happiness made this kiss unlike the others, this was frenzied and desperate and hungry. The force with which she had pushed me against the caused me to nearly stumble before she pulled me back against her plush pink lips again. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth, engaging mine in a sweet duel for dominance. Between that and the fingers knotted in my hair, the warm hand that had found purchase on my thigh, and the occasional gentle-yet almost feral nip on my sensitive lips, I was overloaded on physical sensation. Just as Emily teased loose an ecstatic moan from the back of my throat, did I barely register footsteps in the hall. I brushed it off; too involved in the sensations Emily was stirring up. But then I heard the voice, and it stole all the heat from my blood, turning it to ice.

"Agent Jareau, Agent Prentiss, my office, now." She demanded, and I didn't even have to look over to know who it was, Strauss. We were so busted.

A/N uh-oh, Emily and JJ getting frisky in the hallways of the FBI, and now they have Strauss and her fraternization rules endangering their jobs!

-Nightshade