Fic: With the Lights Out (It's Less Dangerous), Criminal Minds, JJ/Emily
Title: With the Lights Out (It's Less Dangerous)
Author: gespawcho
Recipient: speshtian
Fandom(s): Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ/Emily
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1100
Warnings: none
Summary: The first girls' night out after Emily joins the team.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I'm just having fun with them.
JJ is not only killer at darts, but also a pool shark. Everybody seems to know this and yet nobody seems to mind getting hustled because whenever JJ hits a bull’s-eye or sinks a ball, she does a little victory shimmy that’s more college girl than FBI agent.
When she bends over the table to sink the eight ball in the corner pocket, Emily almost forgets about the conservatively dressed press liaison she met two weeks ago. When she jumps, arms shooting up triumphantly, and the hem of her shirt rides up, revealing a strip of lightly tanned skin, Emily almost forgets her own name.
“Next round’s on me,” JJ grins, flashing a wad of twenties and heading for the bar. Amused and impressed, Emily leans towards Garcia.
“Is she always like this?”
“Oh, she’s usually worse,” Garcia answers without missing a beat. “She’s taking it easy on those kids ‘cause the holidays are coming up.” Emily can’t help but laugh. She’s never had girlfriends before. She’s had girlfriends, but never this easy, fun camaraderie where they sit around and drink beers and just laugh. She never expected to find it in the BAU, of all places.
JJ comes back with a tray full of beers and shots. She sets it down in the middle of the table and hops up onto the barstool.
“You’re pretty competitive,” Emily says, reaching for a beer.
“I’m extremely competitive,” JJ corrects with a laugh.
“Growing up with three older brothers ruined her for casual game night,” Garcia chimes in and Emily’s brows shoot up in surprise.
“You have three older brothers?” she asks and JJ laughs, raising a finger at her in warning.
“Don’t profile me.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Emily promises.
“But it explains so much, right?” Garcia adds before downing a shot.
“Yeah,” Emily chuckles, “it kind of does.”
-
"Okay, lovelies," Garcia starts, palms flat against the table to steady herself as she stands, "I'm seeing double, I think that's my cue to call it a night."
“Do you need help getting home?” Emily asks and Garcia shakes her head no but says:
“Absolutely.” Emily laughs and JJ lets out an amused, exasperated sigh as they flank Garcia and each wrap an arm around her waist to support her. “Every guy in this bar is seething with jealousy right now,” Garcia smirks, giving their shoulders a squeeze. “And that table of girls over there, too.”
“I think that’s the tequila talking, Pen,” JJ scoffs.
They practically drag Garcia down the sidewalk and pour her into the back seat of Emily’s Prius, where she uses her laptop bag as a pillow and promptly passes out.
“We haven’t had a weekend off in a really long time,” JJ explains as Emily closes the door and leans back against it.
“Oh,” she shakes her head, “it’s okay. I haven’t had fun in a really long time.”
“Well, that’s life at the BAU,” JJ says with a wry smile. “A barrel of laughs.”
“I do that, too,” Emily says without thinking. “Deflect. Use humor to cope.”
“What did I say about profiling me?” JJ asks, brow arching.
“I was profiling myself,” Emily tells her with an awkward laugh. JJ leans forward, pressing her palm to the car, hovering close to Emily as she asks:
“Oh yeah?”
Emily hopes it’s rhetorical because she’s back to not remembering her name. JJ’s been like this all night and Emily isn’t sure if she’s naturally this flirty after-hours or a touchy-feely drunk or if she’s sending signals or what. She may be a profiler, but she’s notoriously bad at applying her skills in a personal setting in any sort of practical way.
She doesn’t have to worry about responding because the window rolls down a crack and Garcia’s voice is sharp with impatience as she says:
“If you guys want to go and make out, by all means, I can wait.”
Emily coughs, almost choking, and JJ rolls her eyes.
“Garcia,” she chastises.
“I may be drunk,” Garcia tells her, “but I’m not blind.”
JJ laughs, shaking her head as she straightens. Then she cocks her head towards the street and says:
“Let’s get her home.”
-
The drive to Garcia’s is quiet. She got out one more suggestive crack about them hooking up and then zoned out for the rest of the trip. It takes some effort, but they maneuver Garcia inside and into bed with relative ease. When they get outside again, JJ looks over at Emily.
“Race you to the car?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Emily asks disbelievingly, but JJ’s already sprinting down the walkway. By the time she catches up to her, JJ’s leaning against the car, looking bored.
“You lose.”
“That wasn’t fair,” Emily protests half-heartedly and JJ stares at her pointedly.
“Are you calling me a cheater?”
“I think - “ Emily starts haltingly, “that I should just - stop talking.” She looks so flustered that JJ can’t suppress a throaty chuckle.
“That’s probably a good idea.” She uses two hands to grab the front of Emily’s jacket and pulls her flush against her. Automatically, Emily’s hands fly out and brace against the car, but she doesn’t push herself off JJ. “Am I wrong?” JJ asks lowly. “About this.” Emily shakes her head and lets JJ pull her even closer.
She can feel JJ’s breath warm on her face; feel her own heart pounding at JJ’s proximity. Her hands move from the car to JJ’s hips and then JJ’s tilting her head up, pressing their lips together. The kiss is slow and intense and when JJ finally breaks it, Emily’s panting heavily.
“What are we doing here?” she asks.
“I’m gonna ask you to take me home,” JJ tells her. “And you’re gonna say yes.”
Emily can’t argue with that.
-
“Sorry,” Emily says as she locks the door behind her, “I haven’t really unpacked yet. Or, you know,” she continues awkwardly as JJ looks around, “gotten much furniture.”
“You’ve practically been living on the jet,” JJ reminds her, then turns back to her. “You have a bed, though?”
“Wow,” Emily laughs, thrown off-balance by JJ’s directness, “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“Now who’s deflecting?” JJ smirks, shrugging out of her jacket and draping it over the counter.
“Hey,” Emily narrows her eyes, “I thought you said no profiling.”
“I’m not a profiler,” JJ says, lifting her shirt up and over her head. “It doesn’t count.”
Emily can’t argue with that, either.
Author: gespawcho
Recipient: speshtian
Fandom(s): Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ/Emily
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1100
Warnings: none
Summary: The first girls' night out after Emily joins the team.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I'm just having fun with them.
JJ is not only killer at darts, but also a pool shark. Everybody seems to know this and yet nobody seems to mind getting hustled because whenever JJ hits a bull’s-eye or sinks a ball, she does a little victory shimmy that’s more college girl than FBI agent.
When she bends over the table to sink the eight ball in the corner pocket, Emily almost forgets about the conservatively dressed press liaison she met two weeks ago. When she jumps, arms shooting up triumphantly, and the hem of her shirt rides up, revealing a strip of lightly tanned skin, Emily almost forgets her own name.
“Next round’s on me,” JJ grins, flashing a wad of twenties and heading for the bar. Amused and impressed, Emily leans towards Garcia.
“Is she always like this?”
“Oh, she’s usually worse,” Garcia answers without missing a beat. “She’s taking it easy on those kids ‘cause the holidays are coming up.” Emily can’t help but laugh. She’s never had girlfriends before. She’s had girlfriends, but never this easy, fun camaraderie where they sit around and drink beers and just laugh. She never expected to find it in the BAU, of all places.
JJ comes back with a tray full of beers and shots. She sets it down in the middle of the table and hops up onto the barstool.
“You’re pretty competitive,” Emily says, reaching for a beer.
“I’m extremely competitive,” JJ corrects with a laugh.
“Growing up with three older brothers ruined her for casual game night,” Garcia chimes in and Emily’s brows shoot up in surprise.
“You have three older brothers?” she asks and JJ laughs, raising a finger at her in warning.
“Don’t profile me.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Emily promises.
“But it explains so much, right?” Garcia adds before downing a shot.
“Yeah,” Emily chuckles, “it kind of does.”
-
"Okay, lovelies," Garcia starts, palms flat against the table to steady herself as she stands, "I'm seeing double, I think that's my cue to call it a night."
“Do you need help getting home?” Emily asks and Garcia shakes her head no but says:
“Absolutely.” Emily laughs and JJ lets out an amused, exasperated sigh as they flank Garcia and each wrap an arm around her waist to support her. “Every guy in this bar is seething with jealousy right now,” Garcia smirks, giving their shoulders a squeeze. “And that table of girls over there, too.”
“I think that’s the tequila talking, Pen,” JJ scoffs.
They practically drag Garcia down the sidewalk and pour her into the back seat of Emily’s Prius, where she uses her laptop bag as a pillow and promptly passes out.
“We haven’t had a weekend off in a really long time,” JJ explains as Emily closes the door and leans back against it.
“Oh,” she shakes her head, “it’s okay. I haven’t had fun in a really long time.”
“Well, that’s life at the BAU,” JJ says with a wry smile. “A barrel of laughs.”
“I do that, too,” Emily says without thinking. “Deflect. Use humor to cope.”
“What did I say about profiling me?” JJ asks, brow arching.
“I was profiling myself,” Emily tells her with an awkward laugh. JJ leans forward, pressing her palm to the car, hovering close to Emily as she asks:
“Oh yeah?”
Emily hopes it’s rhetorical because she’s back to not remembering her name. JJ’s been like this all night and Emily isn’t sure if she’s naturally this flirty after-hours or a touchy-feely drunk or if she’s sending signals or what. She may be a profiler, but she’s notoriously bad at applying her skills in a personal setting in any sort of practical way.
She doesn’t have to worry about responding because the window rolls down a crack and Garcia’s voice is sharp with impatience as she says:
“If you guys want to go and make out, by all means, I can wait.”
Emily coughs, almost choking, and JJ rolls her eyes.
“Garcia,” she chastises.
“I may be drunk,” Garcia tells her, “but I’m not blind.”
JJ laughs, shaking her head as she straightens. Then she cocks her head towards the street and says:
“Let’s get her home.”
-
The drive to Garcia’s is quiet. She got out one more suggestive crack about them hooking up and then zoned out for the rest of the trip. It takes some effort, but they maneuver Garcia inside and into bed with relative ease. When they get outside again, JJ looks over at Emily.
“Race you to the car?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Emily asks disbelievingly, but JJ’s already sprinting down the walkway. By the time she catches up to her, JJ’s leaning against the car, looking bored.
“You lose.”
“That wasn’t fair,” Emily protests half-heartedly and JJ stares at her pointedly.
“Are you calling me a cheater?”
“I think - “ Emily starts haltingly, “that I should just - stop talking.” She looks so flustered that JJ can’t suppress a throaty chuckle.
“That’s probably a good idea.” She uses two hands to grab the front of Emily’s jacket and pulls her flush against her. Automatically, Emily’s hands fly out and brace against the car, but she doesn’t push herself off JJ. “Am I wrong?” JJ asks lowly. “About this.” Emily shakes her head and lets JJ pull her even closer.
She can feel JJ’s breath warm on her face; feel her own heart pounding at JJ’s proximity. Her hands move from the car to JJ’s hips and then JJ’s tilting her head up, pressing their lips together. The kiss is slow and intense and when JJ finally breaks it, Emily’s panting heavily.
“What are we doing here?” she asks.
“I’m gonna ask you to take me home,” JJ tells her. “And you’re gonna say yes.”
Emily can’t argue with that.
-
“Sorry,” Emily says as she locks the door behind her, “I haven’t really unpacked yet. Or, you know,” she continues awkwardly as JJ looks around, “gotten much furniture.”
“You’ve practically been living on the jet,” JJ reminds her, then turns back to her. “You have a bed, though?”
“Wow,” Emily laughs, thrown off-balance by JJ’s directness, “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“Now who’s deflecting?” JJ smirks, shrugging out of her jacket and draping it over the counter.
“Hey,” Emily narrows her eyes, “I thought you said no profiling.”
“I’m not a profiler,” JJ says, lifting her shirt up and over her head. “It doesn’t count.”
Emily can’t argue with that, either.