CM/WMC Crossover - The Unexpected, part 8/?
Title: The Unexpected, 8/?
Fandom: WMC/CM Crossover
Pairing: Emily/Cindy; Cindy/Lindsay and Emily/JJ implied, if you squint really hard.
Rating: PG/maybe PG-13 for now.
Disclaimer: Don’t own a damn thing so don’t sue.
Warnings: This is un-beta’d. All mistakes are mine.
AN: I think I’ve lost some of my readers thanks to my delays in posting. I’m trying to work faster on this, I promise.
JJ slammed the door open against the wall when she entered the bathroom, making Emily a few steps ahead of her jump.
“Jesus, JJ! What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem is you,” JJ crossed her arms and leaned against the wall on the other side of the room.
Emily shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face, “I’m not your problem anymore, JJ. You made a choice, and it wasn’t me. You don’t get a say-so anymore in what I do.”
JJ looked down and shuffled the toe of her shoe against the floor. When she looked back up, tears were in her eyes, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Emily threw up her hands, her voice straining not to raise where it could be heard by others, “How was it supposed to be, JJ? I can’t imagine any potential scenario that works well for all involved. Somebody was going to get hurt, and I refuse to let it be me.”
JJ bit her bottom lip, “But that could still happen. If you do this, if you put yourself in the middle of this, you could.” She fought a new surge of tears, “And I don’t think I could stand losing you, Em.”
“You already did, Jay. Now you just have to let me go, like I let you go.” The words hit JJ like a physical blow and what little control she had shattered as she slipped down the wall and cradled her head as she cried. Emily fought the overwhelming urge to reach for her, her nails digging ruthlessly into the palms of her hands. She knew she had to end this, cut it off before the whole team was ruined and before either of them did something that couldn’t be taken back.
Silently, she left the way she had entered, leaving JJ to find her own way.
********
Cindy pulled her little red car into the parking garage and looked in the mirror one last time to check her lipstick. With a sigh, she exited and adjusted her skirt, a short little number that she hadn’t put on in a long time. When she left the garage and started down the street, she saw a couple of non-descript dark cars along the street and sure enough as she got closer to one a familiar dark head came into view. With a slight smile and a barely visible thumbs up, Lindsay signaled that she had Cindy covered.
She supressed the smile on her own face, not wanting to give anything away to anyone watching her. She had taken a chance earlier that day, but she didn’t…couldn’t regret it. It almost surprised her that she and Lindsay were closer than before. That wasn’t what she expected, but it was a welcome opportunity. Like the two of them had their own little secret now. Cindy knew nothing would come of it, and that wasn’t the point. She simply knew that she had to put all the cards on the table. She needed Lindsay to know everything, and now that she did, it was like a weight was lifted from Cindy’s shoulders. She was practically giddy.
As she approached the door of the bar, she instinctively shuffled through her purse to get her ID. Apparently, being assumed to be twelve didn’t reside as the sole belief of the SFPD. The bouncer, Trish was her name as Cindy recalled, happily lit up as Cindy approached.
“Ahhh, my favorite redhead! How are you, Cindy?” She waved her hand at Cindy when she reached out with the ID. “That’s not necessary. If I don’t know by now that you’re legal, then my old mind is more feeble than I thought.”
Trish ran a hand through her short salt and pepper hair, and she had an infectious smile that distracted most people from the fact that “bouncer” was merely a courteous title. The only real damage Trish could do was whack someone with her cane. Not that she couldn’t do it. Cindy had seen it with her own eyes her second time at the bar when a tattooed, biker chick got smart with Charley, the bartender. She was sure the biker was still feeling the sting of that hit.
“Thanks Trish.”
“No problem, honey. Go, have fun!” The older woman watched as Cindy took a seat at the bar.
Charley waved from the other end of the bar, “Hola, chica! Whatcha havin’ tonight?”
For a moment, Cindy was stumped and not sure if it was smart to drink tonight. In her hesitation, she didn’t see the woman walk up behind her, “Whatever the pretty lady wants, I’ll buy.”
Cindy spun around to see the playful dark eyes of Agent Prentiss, checking her out. Cindy did a double-take. Checking her out? Sure enough, she watched as Emily scanned down her body then back up, adding a lick of her lips at the end. If that wasn’t distracting enough, Emily had done a 180 from her previous work attire. She had on skin tight jeans riding low on her hips and black boots with a complimentary tight black shirt that showed all her curves and a sinful amount of cleavage.
Emily smiled at the stunned redhead and leaned in to end her misery, “Play along with me.”
Cindy gave a nervous smile, “That shouldn’t be hard.”
Charley smiled knowingly at the exchange, “So, what’s it going to be, kiddo?”
Cindy gave her a death glare for the kiddo comment, only making Charley smirk harder, “For that, you can get me a Long Island.”
“Living it up tonight, huh? That’s a far cry from a rum and Coke,” she laughed as she walked away. Cindy made a mental note to get even with the evil bartender.
“Rum and Coke?” Emily quirked a dark eyebrow, enjoying adding to Cindy’s indignation.
“Don’t…don’t even go there, Agent Prentiss.”
Emily held up a finger, “Shhh, not so loud.”
“Sorry,” Cindy fiddled with the rim of the glass now in front of her.
“It’s okay, and please, call me Emily.”
Cindy felt a soft hand stroke her arm and she realized that playing undercover cop wasn’t going to be nearly as painful as she had once thought, now that Emily was playing with her, “Okay…Emily.”
********
JJ rounded the corner and nearly ran over Garcia, “Oh god, Garcia! I’m so sorry!”
The tech goddess saw the red-rimmed eyes of her friend, “Nothing’s broken, I’m okay. But I’m not so sure about you. Honey, what’s wrong?”
JJ mentally kicked herself for not taking a few more minutes in the bathroom to get herself together. She should have known that Garcia sees and knows all.
“I’m fine. Really,” she tried to wave her hands around and gave Garcia an unconvincing smile, “Stupid contact. It’s been giving me fits.”
“JayJ!”
JJ held up her hands, “I can’t. Not right now, okay? Please.”
Seeing the barely controlled pain in JJ’s blue eyes, Garcia acquiesced for the moment, but this wasn’t the end of the story.
“Sure. Whatever you say, JJ.”
“Thanks.” JJ started to walk away when Garcia stopped her.
“Actually, I was looking for you anyway. Morgan and Reid are in the briefing room. It seems they have some info to share.”
JJ gratefully walked off with Garcia, glad to have something else to focus on for the moment.
*******
When JJ and Garcia entered the room, Hotch and Rossi, who had joined Lindsay on surveillance outside the bar, were just coming on the line.
“Don’t start the party without us, boys.” Morgan smiled cheekily at his blonde buddy.
“And that just wouldn’t be a party worth having if you weren’t there.”
Garcia hip bumped Morgan, “Flatterer…don’t stop.”
“Garcia, what did you find from that other cam footage?” Ever serious, Hotch moved on like the joking hadn’t even occurred.
Garcia rolled her eyes at Morgan before whispering, “Remind me to buy him a spa treatment for his birthday. Dude needs to relax!”
Morgan barely withheld a chuckle, “Well, boss, I logged over 3,000 hours of footage outside the bar and aside from the random homeless guy stumbling through, there was no one of significance I could see checking out the place or the patrons. In fact, if anything, the bar is well supervised in and out by the bouncer.”
“Yeah, Patricia Stansfield, or Trish as she’s called by everyone. Reid and I talked to her earlier.”
“Well, Trish was a regular guest on my screen so if anyone saw anything it would be her.”
“Anything come of that convo, Morgan?” Hotch inquired.
“She recognized both of our victims and had seen them both leave with someone. She did verify that our last vic left with Catherine Holloman. She couldn’t give a clear description of the woman the other vic left with though. It wasn’t anyone she remembered being a regular. Dark hair, tattoes, that’s about all she knew.” Everyone was quiet as they processed the information.
Garcia went over to the computer and pulled up a chair. With a few taps, she had an image on screen of two women leaving the bar.
“Could this be who she was talking about?”
Morgan leaned into the screen, “Do you have a little magic left, baby girl? It would be really helpful if you could get a clean image then we could run it through the system and look for a match.”
“You got it!”
********
Emily looked around the bar as nonchalantly as she could, taking in general impressions of the patrons. If there was anything she could say about this bar, it was that there were no two of the same type. It was about as diverse as the city itself.
She ran her fingers up Cindy’s spine, giving a light tease at the base of her neck. Cindy fought down the shiver the touch caused, “Do you see anyone that stands out to you as odd?”
“Emily, I know we have to put on a show here, but you’re really distracting me. You really can’t expect me to answer serious questions right now.”
Emily smiled at Cindy’s reddening face, “That’s kind of the point. It needs to be realistic.”
Cindy groaned in frustration and Emily had to hold back an evil chuckle. She really shouldn’t be so mean, but in spite of the circumstances and her previous confrontation with JJ, she felt awfully flirtatious, even daring.
Cindy did her best to focus without it looking like she was checking everyone out, “To answer your question, no. It’s a little hard to pick out odd and weird people at a gay bar, you know?”
“Mmmmm,” was all Emily said, lost in the soft skin along Cindy’s waist.
“Oh, so you do know,” Emily realized she had just walked into something.
“What?”
Cindy pulled back from Emily’s definitely roaming hands, “I knew it! Damn, I’m good.”
Dark eyes grew worried, “Knew what?”
The liquor was going to Cindy’s head, making her less inhibited than usual, “It was the walk, by the way, that gave you away. You have that sexy, butch strut going on.”
Finally catching up to the conversation, Emily relaxed a little, smiling at the somewhat inebriated redhead, “I do.”
“Yes, you do, and it’s damn sexy, just so you know. Lindsay has that strut too, but she’s not gay. Butch, yes, but not gay.”
“Good to know,” Emily wasn’t sure if she was referring to her newfound awareness of being considered butch or that Lindsay wasn’t gay.
“Yep, and just think, you can do whatever you want right now and blame it all on your job,” Cindy blubbered out and then finished off the last third of her drink.
Emily grinned evily at Cindy, “So, I could kiss you right now and it would be the job’s fault.”
“Absolutely!” Cindy thumped the bar for emphasis.
Before she knew what happened, Emily’s lips descended on hers, and Cindy wasn’t sure if it was the effect of the liquor or the way Emily kisses, but she grabbed onto the other woman to keep from swaying. Her hands pulled at the loops of Emily’s jeans, drawing her in closer, until long fingers that had been caressing her neck and jaw finally slid into her red hair, tilting her perfectly so they could deepen the kiss.
After a few moments, Cindy pulled back, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve kissed girls before.”
Emily bit her lip, her voice deep with the desire that had been stirred, “You’d be right.”
Cindy leaned in to whisper, “And just think of all the wonderful things that could happen tonight that you could blame on your job.”
With a moan, Emily leaned her forehead against Cindy’s, visibily fighting to get herself back into control. It would be so easy to forget what they were really here for.
“But I can’t, not while we’re chasing this guy.”
“You want to though.”
Emily couldn’t bring herself to answer, so she settled for sending Cindy an obvious message with another long kiss.
“Take me home, Emily. As long as I’m with you, I’m safe. Just stay with me. You can chase bad guys tomorrow.” Cindy ran her fingers along Emily’s ribcage, just below her breast, not so subtly urging the profiler to be her personal bodyguard.
Emily realized with a bit of absurdity that she was seriously contemplating going home with Cindy. In all of her planning, she hadn’t seen being seduced by a fiesty redhead reporter as a potential scenario. She chuckled at the situation, “How did you peg me so easily? Are you sure you’re not a profiler?”
Cindy smiled, her nose wrinkling adorably, “No, I’m just a reporter, but that’s pretty close.”
Emily laughed and, making up her mind, she tugged the smaller hand in hers as she led them out of the bar.