Compartmentalisation
Notes: I made the very good mistake of doing a Criminal Minds marathon with my best friend. I'd say a few stories are going to be the result. Lol. A quick warning. There is a HUGE amount of artistic license being used here. This fic moves around a lot time-wise. But I seem incapable of writing in chronological order.
-o-
The minute people fall in love they become liars.
Harlan Ellison
-o-
Cigarette smoke coats everyone in the underground bar. They blur together, as if looking through heavy rain but she is drawn toward the white silhouette in the corner. The one she would recognise anywhere, at any time. The one who doesn't flinch when she places a hand on her shoulder. Who expected JJ to follow, who knew she would.
"JJ… how did you find me?" she whispers, playing the charade, swilling the scotch in her glass.
JJ shrugs one shoulder, "It doesn't matter," JJ says, her hand moving down Emily's arm, to her wrist, over her hand. Emily's is clenched into a fist, her back is rigid and, for a moment, JJ wonders if she should be here at all.
Emily laughs softly and slowly lengthens her fingers, lets JJ hold her hand. "No, I don't suppose it does."
"JJ, I don't get it," Will says, snapping her from her reverie.
He's understandably angry as JJ stands in the centre of the living room, a packed bag at her feet. Henry holds her hand tightly. It's clear he doesn't know what's going on, clear he's frightened. Will rarely raises his voice and he's shouted several times in the past few minutes.
She nods, bites her bottom lip. "Truly, Will? I don't get it either."
-o-
I
The Pentagon isn't to her taste, she misses the camaraderie of her former team. But she knows she can't go back. She hates it. But she's never been one to wallow in self-pity so she gets on with it. A seemingly normal day and a file is thrown across her desk, its contents spilling everywhere. She catches a glimpse of a familiar face and barely hears the man's comment of "didn't you work with that one?"
He waits a few seconds; realises she won't say a word and his mouth curls into a sneer. "You're not going to like reading that."
JJ still doesn't say a word and he slams the door behind him.
-o-
Hotch's phone call isn't unexpected, and she packs her briefcase and is at Quantico with the hour. Guards recognise her and she isn't asked once to show ID. She doesn't know why that bothers her but makes a mental note to tell Strauss.
The team is standing in the centre of the main room, looking distraught and uncertain. Even Hotch looks flustered.
Her words are curt as she nods towards conference area. "Let's get to work."
-o-
Each team member reacts differently to Emily's past. Hotch and Rossi don't flinch; Garcia and Reid don't care, and Seaver doesn't seem to know what to think. But it's Morgan's reaction that angers her.
"She seems awfully comfortable," he spits, tossing the photo of Emily onto the table.
JJ pushes her anger down, keeps talking, explaining. "… Emily was his type."
-o-
Rossi and Morgan head toward Emily's apartment, Hotch makes calls to get a jet ready for Boston, Seaver stares at the whiteboard. Emily's photograph is on the left, Doyle's on the right. JJ takes a deep breath, heads toward the bathroom. She needs to call Will; she won't be home tonight. He's annoyed, they'd had a dinner planned, but doesn't make a huge fuss. She's finishing the call when Garcia enters. Her composure has slipped, tears are falling, and she doesn't say a word as she pulls JJ towards her and holds her in a tight hug.
"What if we lose her?" Garcia says as she pulls back, her voice shrill. "What if we…" She takes a deep breath, looks up a moment, laughs once. "I asked her if she was pregnant."
JJ quirks an eyebrow, surprised. "Pregnant?"
"The secrecy, the… I knew it was something big but…" Garcia takes another deep breath. "I never considered … this."
JJ shakes her head. "I don't think any of us did."
Her phone beeps and she glances down at the text message on the screen.
It's from Hotch and to the point.
Wheels up in 20.
-o-
She has a higher security clearance than any of the team but has strict orders not to share everything. Garcia has screamed, Morgan is angry and Rossi has kept calm though JJ wonders if he feels much like she does, angry at Morgan. He keeps shooting harsh glares at Morgan's comments. But then, she'd always thought Emily was Rossi's favourite. He'd always gone out of his way for her. Hotch has kept his composure and makes notes as they continue to talk. JJ has barely said a word as she reads more about Emily's past, of other cases she'd completed. She glances up at Morgan for a second, wonders what he'd think if he knew she'd been undercover before, the same type of cases. Where she'd 'crossed the line' and slept with the enemy.
She purses her lips, glances out the window for a second.
It certainly explained a lot. She bites her lip as she remembers a conversation from many years ago.
"Emily, how come none of this gets to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You came off a desk job, now suddenly you're in a field, surrounded by mutilated bodies and you don't even flinch."
"I … guess … maybe … I can compartmentalise better than most people."
Compartmentalisation.
JJ glances down at the photo of Doyle and wonders for just a second how much compartmentalisation it takes to fake love.
Then decides she doesn't want to know.
-o-
The team learn about Declan, learn how Emily has hidden him so deep that he couldn't be found. Even by someone like Doyle. Garcia finds out the warehouse address, they head toward there but are those sixty seconds too late. Doyle has vanished and Emily has a table leg shoved into her stomach. JJ watches from the doorway as Morgan tells her over and over again that he's proud, that she's his friend, that she needs to hold on.
Truth be told, Emily doesn't seem to care but continues to squeeze his hand.
The EMTs arrive and JJ jumps into the ambulance. She tells herself that it's because she needs to get information from Emily before she loses consciousness but knows full well that's a total lie.
She wants to be with her.
"JJ?" Emily says, confused. But soon her lips tilt upward. "I'm glad they called you."
"Me too," JJ responds, squeezing her hand.
Emily smiles again, just once, before her heart rate flat lines and JJ is pushed to the side as the paramedics' race against the clock.
They get to the hospital and Emily is rushed into the operating theatre. The team are in the waiting area, but JJ paces up and down the hallway. She knows she can't be with them, not just yet. She'd received a call from her boss minutes after arriving and her orders are pointed.
"She needs to be under witness protection," her boss says. "Even if she lives, she dies. Are we clear?"
JJ doesn't answer for a moment.
"Understood, Jereau?" the voice snaps, more harshly.
She swallows, nods before realising he can't see her. "Yes," she says, sounding much calmer than she expected. "I understand."
-o-
II
Maybe if she'd never thought about 'faking love', this wouldn't have happened. If she'd never considered compartmentalisation. If she'd never remembered that conversation from long ago, she'd still be sitting happily with Will in front of the television, the volume down low. Henry would be sitting between them, there might be a baby in the room above. They'd be praying the television wouldn't wake Henry's brother or sister, loving the quiet.
But JJ doesn't attempt to kid herself.
This was always going to happen.
Someday.
Hotch guesses the Pentagon's plan and says that while he didn't like the plan, he understood it.
"How close did she get?" he asks suddenly, near the end of their meeting. "To…" He doesn't finish his sentence, but JJ knows exactly what he means. 'How close did she get to dying?'
It surprises her for a second. Hotch shows so little emotion, she wouldn't have thought for a moment that he'd want to know a detail like that. Then she remembers him when he'd heard Emily being beaten over the wire comms. How he'd wanted to storm in and save her, procedure be damned. How it had been Rossi who had kept a level head, forced him to listen to what she was saying.
"I can take it."
"It was … close," JJ answers. "But she did it."
She took it.
He laughs humourlessly, just once. "She always does."
-o-
The Pentagon organise everything. The passports, the bank accounts, the sizeable bundle of cash in the envelope. She knows that Emily can assimilate into multiple countries with ease; knows she can fake a life almost anywhere. But JJ finds herself wondering where she will she choose. Her Italian is perfect, as is her Spanish, her French. She finds herself suppressing a smile, another memory coming forth, of Emily's first team meeting.
Her Arabic.
"I lived in several middle-eastern countries growing up."
"Jereau?"
She looks up from her desk. The agent who had thrown Emily's file at her is leaning against the doorframe. He's an arrogant man, one who will cause his own demise. He'd been dreadful when she'd come back to the Pentagon, asked about her ''whore' of a friend. JJ had snapped eventually, asked him how many Medals of Bravery he'd ever received, how many he expected to.
He hadn't said too much since.
"You're wanted in the big office," he continues.
JJ nods, rises from her desk, walks straight past him, not sparing him a second glance.
"I don't understand," JJ says truthfully, looking at her superiors. "Why me? There are many other people who could…"
"She trusts you," her boss interrupts. "That's an accolade she doesn't grant many people."
She feels a certain sense of pride at his words, for they're definitely true. Emily doesn't trust many. "So, I just give her these and that's it?" she asks.
"Yes. That's it."
JJ takes a deep breath, thinks 'well, she's always wanted to go to Paris.'
"And when do I go?"
JJ is on the plane within the hour and sees Emily within eight. It's late evening, light comes from the streetlamps. Emily sits with her legs crossed, tapping her index finger against the table, nervous. JJ knows Emily saw her long before she saw her, her eyes don't move as she approaches. They're almost black, like a vacuum, an abyss.
She sits, pushes the envelope towards her.
"Passports from three different countries, and a bank account in each one to keep you comfortable."
"Thank you."
"Good luck."
Emily looks as if she wants to say something more, her expression wavers for that split second, as if she wants to say something. But, as always, she pushes it back down, nods just once before she rises to her feet and walks away. JJ turns and watches Emily until she turns a corner. Wonders if she's already pushed JJ away into a box, 'compartmentalised' her away. The thought angers her and she raises her hand, calls the waiter, orders a glass of red wine.
-0-
III
"How long has it been going on, JJ?" Will asks.
JJ shrugs her shoulders, unsure of the answer.
"Truly, Will? I'm not sure I really know. It's not always been … this."
"This?" he repeats sceptically.
"Yeah, this."
It used to be a friendship; she thinks. Granted, a close friendship, but it evolved too quickly for them to keep up.
She looks at Will, trying to figure out the answer.
One memory comes forward.
The team throw a goodbye party on JJ's final day at the BAU. It's louder than she likes, and she finds herself walking to her office, leaning against the desk. She's already packed up her belongings, there's nothing personal in the room. It looks like a bland, empty office. No photos on the desk, no books on the shelves. Nothing.
"I thought I'd find you here," a soft voice says as they close the door behind them.
Emily doesn't turn on the light as she sits next to her on the desk.
"I wish this wasn't happening," JJ says.
"Me too. We all wish it wasn't happening."
JJ looks to the side. Emily's skin is pale, and she can see her easily in the dark. Garcia had once called her 'the albino with black hair.' She moves closer to Emily, rests her head against her shoulder; Emily's arms reach around her, pull her closer, and then she kisses JJ on the top of the head.
They just sit, words not needed.
Had it started there?
She has no idea.
-o-
IV
In Paris, the wine JJ orders takes away some of the hurt, but certainly not all. She finds herself walking in the same direction as Emily, wonders where she would have gone. She answers herself almost immediately.
To a bar.
Her mind continues, asking more questions. Questions it shouldn't want to.
What sort?
Her eyes move from side-to-side. The bar would need to be inconspicuous, one out of the way. One that tourists wouldn't be interested in. Maybe too 'dirty'. Probably underground, home of some illegal trade. She turns another corner and finds herself staring at a place that ticks every mental box she just made.
Without thinking, she walks inside.
JJ squeezes Emily's hand and she finally turns her head towards her and, looking into those black eyes, she is once again reminded of an abyss.
"You shouldn't be here," Emily says softly.
"Nor should you," JJ retorts, letting Emily's hand go for a moment so she can slide out the bar stool.
JJ raises her hand, orders a scotch rather than wine this time. The bartender refills Emily's glass without asking and JJ knows she's had more than she should. After two more, Emily stands, grabs her bag, cites she 'needs the bathroom.' But JJ knows her better than most, knows she'll try to run, and follows her five seconds later. She's at the vanity, one passport in her hand, the other two inside her pockets. The bundle of cash is nowhere to be seen, hidden somewhere else. She looks at JJ in the mirror.
"And just like that, you were going to leave again?" JJ says from the doorway.
Emily doesn't deny it. Nods. "Yes, JJ. I was."
JJ feels an anger she's felt only a few times before. When she'd been dismissed from the BAU, when she'd been ignored by people, deemed only a 'pretty face.' But this anger stems from somewhere far deeper, it surges through her body and makes her run red hot. Emily closes her eyes, bites her lip, just for a moment. It's a minor tell, one that not many people could recognise.
"That's what I was after," Emily continues, sounding broken as she turns so she faces JJ whose body has tensed, whose jaw is locked, whose eyes are hard. "For you to let me walk away. To be so furious with me that you no longer cared anymore."
JJ closes the few steps between them and grabs Emily's wrist, hard enough that she knows it will hurt. But Emily doesn't protest as JJ pulls her forward, letting her wrist go as she wraps her arms around her shoulders, letting one hand travel down to the small of her back. Emily's forehead rests against JJ's clavicle, bone against bone.
"For someone with degrees from Yale, you're pretty stupid sometimes," she whispers in her ear.
Emily looks up, her eyes glistening with rare tears. JJ finds her hand reaching up almost of its own accord, to run her thumb along Emily's bottom lip. Her hair has fallen forward, and JJ gently brushes it away. She doesn't even realise she's leaning forward until her lips reach Emily's who has frozen. She presses one kiss on the left side of her mouth, another to the right but still Emily hasn't moved. JJ feels a moment of embarrassment, of the thought that maybe she'd done this wrong, read this wrong but Emily finally responds and pushes closer, impossibly close. She moves; back and forth, teasing, until JJ grows frustrated and holds the back of her neck, keeping Emily in place because she doesn't want this to stop.
A quiet cough interrupts them, and they look to the side and find a young woman smirking from the door. Emily looks at the woman in the doorway, then back to JJ. She grabs the final passport and rushes past JJ, back into the bar. She's escaped before, she knows how to do this, and is quicker.
JJ gets outside and searches for the white coat.
She finds it on the ground.
-o-
After Paris, things with Will start to falter. Late one night, he pushes himself deeper and deeper and she remembers the way this used to make her breath come in short gasps, the way her toes curled in the sheets.
Now, all she can think about is dark eyes.
-o-
V
She isn't surprised when Emily is called back. The team had made no headway with Doyle. They needed someone who knew him well, who could predict his next move. JJ isn't sure who found her, how she was found, but suddenly, she's there. Emily stands in the doorway of the conference room. She's nervous, looking from one team member to the next. Morgan gives her a hesitant hug, Garcia's mouth is open, Reid's eyes are wide, and Rossi leans back in his chair with a tiny smirk. JJ wonders for a second if he'd never believed the story of Emily's death, if he'd known all along.
Emily's finally looks toward JJ's, uncertain.
JJ stares down at her tablet.
Emily steps into her office later that day but says nothing. JJ doesn't look up from the report she's writing. She's not sure how much time passes but Emily steps forward, leans against her desk. JJ's reminded of her goodbye party.
"I didn't know what to do," Emily says softly. "I didn't think I'd come back. I didn't think I would need to. I thought I was doing the right thing."
"You were doing the easy thing," JJ disagrees.
Emily doesn't argue. "Maybe, JJ," she says finally. "But for the right reasons." She points to a photo of JJ, Will and Henry that rests on the corner of her desk. "Why on earth would you risk that?"
She pushes herself away from JJ's desk and walks away.
-o-
Despite everything, they still work well together, and Hotch sends them out together often. They manage to find some sort of boundary, to push things away.
Out of sight, out of mind.
JJ's not entirely sure why she tells the police officer to go back outside when Emily goes to take Regina Lampert's statement. Perhaps just a feeling. But she's glad she did.
"Still, your monster's dead. I have to live with mine."
Neither woman says a word further as Emily writes out Regina's statement. JJ knows she won't leave out anything, knows the investigating officer will wonder what happened, what any of it means. It would make no sense to many. Regina leans back in her chair as Emily writes, the sound of the pen against paper loud in the otherwise silent room.
Once finished, Emily pushes her chair back and walks through the door, letting it close behind her. She doesn't look back, doesn't look at JJ as she hands her the clipboard, doesn't say a word to anyone as she walks to the conference room and grabs her coat. She pulls it around herself as she moves, ignoring Morgan and Reid as they offer her a lift, ignores the detective who offers to get her a cab. She's walking too quickly for anyone to follow. Soon, she's through the door and JJ can see her through the glass wall of the police station. Her head is down, not looking up, forcing people to move out of her way.
Too quickly, she's out of sight.
"What the hell was that?" Morgan asks, making JJ jump. She hadn't realised he was standing next to her.
"Just let her be," JJ hears herself saying. "Let her be."
"JJ, what…?"
"Dammit, Morgan. Let her be!"
She doesn't raise her voice often and the team look up in surprise, but JJ doesn't explain, doesn't offer apologies. She just gathers her things together.
-o-
Hotch keeps looking across at Emily in concern. She's staring out the jet window, though it's obvious she's not actually seeing, that her mind is moving about in circles. She looks up in surprise when JJ sits down next to her, holding a blanket in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. She shifts as JJ hands her the coffee, drapes the blanket over them both. All team members have shared blankets before, it raises no eyebrows.
Between them, out of sight, she raises the arm rest so their bodies touch and rests her hand to Emily's hip, tracing one circle with her thumb. Emily closes her eyes, takes a shuddering breath, clearly holding back tears but turns and nods a 'thank you.'
-o-
Sometimes Emily terrifies her and she wonders just how far her hand would reach. Reid walks in one morning, points at the front page of a newspaper which reads 'Piano Man Dead.'
"We'd never profiled him as suicidal!" he says. "We thought he'd like this, like the attention, like the…"
"And sometimes we get it wrong," Emily interrupts brusquely. "Sometimes, even boy-wonders like you get it wrong."
The words are cruel, Reid is hurt, but Emily doesn't look back as she gets up and walks toward the coffee machine, taking the newspaper with her. She grabs an envelope from another desk and enters an empty office. Reid has risen, wanting to retort, but JJ places a hand to his shoulder, says "I'll sort it."
When she enters the office, the front page has been ripped off, a post-it note she can't read pressed against it and the rest sits in a wastepaper basket.
Regina Lampert's address is written in Emily's neat handwriting on the envelope.
JJ takes the envelope from Emily. "I'll post this. Go and apologise to Reid."
Emily gives a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Thank you."
She isn't entirely sure why she's there, but she rings the doorbell to Emily's apartment anyway. She can hear footsteps from inside, a pause as Emily looks through the peephole. But the door opens and JJ doesn't say anything as she walks past Emily into the living room. Emily's apartment is beautiful, much more than most FBI agents could afford.
"Why are you here?"
"Why did you do it? The Piano-man?" JJ asks.
Emily shrugs one shoulder. "She deserved closure. Now she has it."
"Closure?" JJ repeats.
"Yes."
"And when do I get mine?" she demands.
Emily looks down at the floor, scuffs it with her foot. "I think that's a bit different."
"But is it, Emily? Really?"
-o-
VI
Garcia's all-girl's salsa night is fun, and they stay out far too late. They stumble into JJ's flat, waking Reid from his sleep on the sofa. He looks at them all, dishevelled, clearly drunk and laughs.
"You'll regret that tomorrow, ladies," he says, grabbing his coat.
Garcia crashes on the couch and is asleep in seconds. Emily heads toward the spare bedroom but JJ stops her in the hallway. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's 'Dutch courage', maybe she'll regret it in the morning, but she truly doesn't care what it is when she kisses Emily hard on the mouth. Emily tries to pull away but JJ keeps her close.
"JJ, I don't think…" Emily manages when they finally pause for breath.
"Don't think."
Emily looks almost frightened but doesn't protest as JJ leads her into the bedroom. She unbuttons Emily's blouse and presses her lips to her shoulder, just once, before pointing at the bed. Emily takes a breath as she lies in the centre of the mattress and JJ climbs onto the bed. She hears Emily's sharp intake of breath and leans forward, pressing her lips to Emily's just once, teasing, before moving down.
She moves to Emily's throat, can hear her breaths getting shorter. She continues to move down to her breast but stops when she sees the clover seared onto Emily's skin.
Without thinking, she gasps, looks up. "Oh my god…" she whispers. "Emily…"
Emily's cheeks colour in embarrassment and she tries to move away. JJ grabs her, splays her arms to the sides. "No, don't," she orders. "Don't."
Emily doesn't fight and JJ moves back, runs her tongue along the clover. She reaches down, unzips Emily's skirt, pushes it over her hips and down her thighs. Her tongue runs along the clover one last time, a gentle nip before she moves across to Emily's other breast. Emily's skin is flushed, her heart rate is racing, her breath comes in short pants.
JJ moves further down to Emily's stomach and stops again when she reaches the webbing of pink scar tissue. She doesn't look up this time, for which she knows Emily is grateful.
She just dips her head down and keeps going.
-o-
Afterward, they're quiet. JJ's head is against Emily's shoulder, her thumb tracing small circles at her hip. Emily shifts suddenly and in one movement rolls JJ so she is on her back. She can feel Emily's thighs flexing against hers as she leans down, a curtain of black hair at either side, and kisses her gently.
"My turn," she whispers.
JJ doesn't protest.
-o-
Garcia's expression is almost comical as she looks at them from the doorway the next morning. They've pulled the sheets to their chests, but the scattered clothing around the room tells a story of its own.
"Oh my god…" she manages finally. She shakes her head, stands a little straighter. "Coffee," she announces. "I need coffee."
She heads to the kitchen and JJ grabs a dressing gown while Emily throws on the blouse she'd been wearing the night before and follow. She's got three cups out, milk and sugar, and is boiling the kettle. But it's obvious she's flustered and when she sees them emerge, she turns away again.
"Garcia…" JJ tries.
"How long?" Garcia interrupts. "How long has this been going on?"
It's Emily who answers. "Truthfully, Garcia? We're not really sure."
-o-
Garcia clearly doesn't condone their actions but after the triathlon, she walks with them into a coffee shop.
"I don't like how you've done this…" she says after the waitress sets down their coffees. "I don't like it at all."
"We don't either…" Emily starts.
"… but," Garcia interrupts, holding her hand up for Emily to be silent. "But you should both know one thing."
"Which is?" JJ asks.
Garcia seems to deflate; she looks almost sad as she reaches across and grabs one hand of each. "Neither of you have looked this happy for a very long time."
"But we should have done it differently," Emily says softly.
Garcia nods firmly. "Yes, you should have."
-o-
VII
Which was why she was here now, JJ thinks, willing her partner to move out of the way. Because of a series of events they should have done differently.
"JJ…" Will tries one last time.
JJ shakes her head and doesn't say a word further as she tugs Henry's hand and together, they walk to the door. It's cold when she steps outside and she looks out onto the street and walks to the waiting car with a familiar pale face behind the steering wheel.
She should feel shame, should feel guilt.
Instead, she walks with Henry that bit quicker to get to the car.
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