Reflections in Smooth Glass
Hey. I'm a n00b, though I'm a longtime reader and a longtime fan. This is my first story in the fandom. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, so I appreciate suggestions - both for content and for stylistic things, as I am an English major and a big ol' nerd - as well as general reviews.
This happened over the course of several classes in which I was really bored. (I'm a good student, really.)
Title: Reflections in Smooth Glass
Pairing: JJ/Emily, kind of.
Rating: PG-13 just because of the fandom. It lends itself to some level of unpleasantness, doesn't it?
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I own nothing blah.
Notes: Contains some spoilers for 5x03. This is a missing scene of sorts from the end of the episode - you know, that bit where femslash fans all over the world all screamed "SQUEEEEEE SUBTEXT!!!!!111!!" The story operates under the pretenses that 1.) JJ and Will are together and happy, and 2.) Emily harbors some kind of mix of love and jealousy. X-posted to cm_femslash community.
Archive: P&P. Anything else, please ask.
Reflections in Smooth Glass
I can smell the coffee before Emily sets it down in front of me. The fragrance of the drink helps to snap me out of my haze and I turn away from the window. Staring at my reflection in the glass, I haven't been able to stop seeing the blood on my face, even though I scrubbed it off hours ago. Why does this always seem to happen to me? How is it that I keep ending up looking at my reflection and seeing things that aren't there? After Georgia, it got to the point where I stopped looking in the mirror for fear of seeing feral dogs behind me, ready to rip my flesh into pieces. I sigh inwardly. Looks like that's going to happen again.
Emily's hand on my knee jars me out of my thoughts, an odd mix of fear and self-pity. I blink in surprise, noticing that there are tears in my eyes. I can't cry now, not here, and I grab frantically for Emily's hand before she can lift it away, squeezing hard in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. She may not realize it, but she's my lifeline.
She squeezes back, stroking circles with her thumb on the back of my hand. She shifts her body to face me and I turn my head to look into her eyes. I hope she can pick up on my pleading. I don't know what I'm pleading for exactly - please understand? Please don't let go? But she seems to get it; all I can see in her eyes is concern and something else, something warm.
Emily starts to stand up, and my heart literally thrashes. I squeeze harder on her hand. I thought she understood; how can she be letting go? She looks at me again. Her expression is calm, and she tilts her head almost imperceptibly toward the back of the plane, where the couches are. Oh. She just wants to give me some privacy because she knows me; knows I won't be able to wait until I'm home to talk and cry. Will took the baby home to visit his own family tonight - I'm supposed to join up with them in a couple days - and I'm glad. After some cases, I can't wait to see my son's face and spend time with him, but other times I need to be alone with my thoughts. This is one of those times.
I get up and follow her to the couch, noticing that everyone else is either asleep or deeply engrossed in conversation. Short of screaming, no one will hear me. Perfect.
The instant Emily sits down, I'm practically on top of her, gripping the lapel of her jacket until my knuckles are white, burying my face in the crook of her neck, and sobbing hard. Her arms fold tightly around me and I feel a little better. She doesn't shush me or tell me not to cry; she just lets me weather the storm, and when I'm a little more conscious of what's going on, I notice she's pressing soft, sweet kisses to the top of my head. It makes me feel just a little bit safer.
I breathe, deep and shuddering, and say, "I can still feel it."
"What's that?" she asks, moving so my head rests on her shoulder.
"The - the blood." I nearly choke on the words. I want to gag. "I can feel it. It's still on me, Emily; I can't get it off!" I'm about to panic again, and Emily can tell.
"Shh, it's okay. It's gone. You're okay. See?" She reaches out and touches my face where mere hours ago a man's blood had coated it. Pulling her hand away, she shows me her clean fingers. I nod and take another deep breath to steady myself.
"We were supposed to keep him safe." I say it so quietly I barely hear myself, and for a moment I'm not sure that Emily does.
"Who, Judge Schuler? He wanted to die, JJ. He would've found a way to make it happen whether we were there or not."
I shrug. "And what about the other ones? The bartender. We promised him we'd have his back, and he died anyway. We were too late to save the cop - Dan Patton - and he got beaten to death. Who did we help this time, Emily? Why did we even bother? It's all such...such..."
"Bullshit?" Emily supplies.
"Yeah!" I exclaim so emphatically that we both almost laugh.
"It is bullshit, JJ. It sucks beyond belief that we can't save everyone. I don't blame you for having doubts. But you have to remember something."
"What?"
"Well, two things, really. First of all, even though it doesn't seem like we helped, we did. At least now these victims' families have answers, and that might not seem like much to us, but trust me - it's really, really important to them." She stops talking, and I wonder whether she's forgotten that there's something else I'm supposed to remember. "And secondly, you are...you're never alone." Something I don't recognize flickers across Emily's eyes for a second. Is it sadness? Regret? It's not something I've ever seen on her face before.
"Thanks, Emily. That means a lot." We're quiet for some minutes - one? Three? She runs her fingers through my hair. I'm calm now, I realize, almost calm enough to fall asleep. "Emily? Do you think...it's just that Will took the baby to visit his family and I'm supposed to join them in a couple day, but I...I don't think I can be alone. Do you think you could stay with me? I understand if you're busy or if you don't want to, of course. I know you must be tired too. I just thought I -"
"JJ." Emily cuts off my babbling, which I'm well aware of because I'm suddenly nervous for some reason. I turn to look at her. "Of course I'll stay with you. I'd be happy to."
"Thank you so much, Emily," I say, smiling genuinely for the first time in what feels like weeks. She smiles back. I nestle my head further into her shoulder. Everything about her radiates calm and safety. I close my eyes and think I might drift off when I remember something else."I saw you," I tell her.
"Mm? Where?"
"In the crowd, outside the police station after Schuler got shot. I saw you looking at me. You looked...upset. I thought you were mad at me for letting him get killed."
"What? No! I could never be mad at you, JJ. Don't even think about blaming yourself. I just thought -" Suddenly it dawns on me.
"Oh my god,you thought I got shot, didn't you? You saw the blood on my face and you thought it was me?"
Emily sighs as if she's thought extensively about this already. For a minute I think she's going to cry. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," she confesses in a whisper. "You...you are really important to me."
"I love you, Emily, you know that?" She is obviously taken aback by this because I can feel her physically start under my head.
"I, um...what?"
"I mean, you're really important to me, too. You mean more to me than I think I could put into words. I mean, Will and I are together and he's the father of my child and I love him, but you, you're so much more than that. You're my best..." I have to trail off, because I realize she's not my best friend. That title is too small for her. She's not my girlfriend or even my lover, even though our connection is probably as deep as it would be if she was. She's more to me than any of those labels, so I say the only other thing I can think of, the only thing that makes sense. "You're Emily."
She chuckles and I can feel it coming from her heart. "Do you want to try to sleep?" As if she can sense my hesitation, she says, "I'll be right here." Sounds good to me.
As I get comfortable - stretching out on the couch with my head in her lap - I say, "Hey, I know I've been kind of distant ever since Will moved up here, but I never meant to disappear on you. I kind of miss you."
"I kind of miss you, too," Emily says, with just a touch of sadness in her voice. "We can talk about it once we get to your house, okay? We've got time."
"Okay," I agree easily, and yawn. Emily kisses the top of my head again. "Thanks again, Emily."
"Anytime, JJ," she says softly. "And thank you. For staying with me." I smile and snuggle closer into her lap. She's soft and safe.
Tonight I'm going to be okay. My reflection is going to be fine.
This happened over the course of several classes in which I was really bored. (I'm a good student, really.)
Title: Reflections in Smooth Glass
Pairing: JJ/Emily, kind of.
Rating: PG-13 just because of the fandom. It lends itself to some level of unpleasantness, doesn't it?
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I own nothing blah.
Notes: Contains some spoilers for 5x03. This is a missing scene of sorts from the end of the episode - you know, that bit where femslash fans all over the world all screamed "SQUEEEEEE SUBTEXT!!!!!111!!" The story operates under the pretenses that 1.) JJ and Will are together and happy, and 2.) Emily harbors some kind of mix of love and jealousy. X-posted to cm_femslash community.
Archive: P&P. Anything else, please ask.
Reflections in Smooth Glass
I can smell the coffee before Emily sets it down in front of me. The fragrance of the drink helps to snap me out of my haze and I turn away from the window. Staring at my reflection in the glass, I haven't been able to stop seeing the blood on my face, even though I scrubbed it off hours ago. Why does this always seem to happen to me? How is it that I keep ending up looking at my reflection and seeing things that aren't there? After Georgia, it got to the point where I stopped looking in the mirror for fear of seeing feral dogs behind me, ready to rip my flesh into pieces. I sigh inwardly. Looks like that's going to happen again.
Emily's hand on my knee jars me out of my thoughts, an odd mix of fear and self-pity. I blink in surprise, noticing that there are tears in my eyes. I can't cry now, not here, and I grab frantically for Emily's hand before she can lift it away, squeezing hard in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. She may not realize it, but she's my lifeline.
She squeezes back, stroking circles with her thumb on the back of my hand. She shifts her body to face me and I turn my head to look into her eyes. I hope she can pick up on my pleading. I don't know what I'm pleading for exactly - please understand? Please don't let go? But she seems to get it; all I can see in her eyes is concern and something else, something warm.
Emily starts to stand up, and my heart literally thrashes. I squeeze harder on her hand. I thought she understood; how can she be letting go? She looks at me again. Her expression is calm, and she tilts her head almost imperceptibly toward the back of the plane, where the couches are. Oh. She just wants to give me some privacy because she knows me; knows I won't be able to wait until I'm home to talk and cry. Will took the baby home to visit his own family tonight - I'm supposed to join up with them in a couple days - and I'm glad. After some cases, I can't wait to see my son's face and spend time with him, but other times I need to be alone with my thoughts. This is one of those times.
I get up and follow her to the couch, noticing that everyone else is either asleep or deeply engrossed in conversation. Short of screaming, no one will hear me. Perfect.
The instant Emily sits down, I'm practically on top of her, gripping the lapel of her jacket until my knuckles are white, burying my face in the crook of her neck, and sobbing hard. Her arms fold tightly around me and I feel a little better. She doesn't shush me or tell me not to cry; she just lets me weather the storm, and when I'm a little more conscious of what's going on, I notice she's pressing soft, sweet kisses to the top of my head. It makes me feel just a little bit safer.
I breathe, deep and shuddering, and say, "I can still feel it."
"What's that?" she asks, moving so my head rests on her shoulder.
"The - the blood." I nearly choke on the words. I want to gag. "I can feel it. It's still on me, Emily; I can't get it off!" I'm about to panic again, and Emily can tell.
"Shh, it's okay. It's gone. You're okay. See?" She reaches out and touches my face where mere hours ago a man's blood had coated it. Pulling her hand away, she shows me her clean fingers. I nod and take another deep breath to steady myself.
"We were supposed to keep him safe." I say it so quietly I barely hear myself, and for a moment I'm not sure that Emily does.
"Who, Judge Schuler? He wanted to die, JJ. He would've found a way to make it happen whether we were there or not."
I shrug. "And what about the other ones? The bartender. We promised him we'd have his back, and he died anyway. We were too late to save the cop - Dan Patton - and he got beaten to death. Who did we help this time, Emily? Why did we even bother? It's all such...such..."
"Bullshit?" Emily supplies.
"Yeah!" I exclaim so emphatically that we both almost laugh.
"It is bullshit, JJ. It sucks beyond belief that we can't save everyone. I don't blame you for having doubts. But you have to remember something."
"What?"
"Well, two things, really. First of all, even though it doesn't seem like we helped, we did. At least now these victims' families have answers, and that might not seem like much to us, but trust me - it's really, really important to them." She stops talking, and I wonder whether she's forgotten that there's something else I'm supposed to remember. "And secondly, you are...you're never alone." Something I don't recognize flickers across Emily's eyes for a second. Is it sadness? Regret? It's not something I've ever seen on her face before.
"Thanks, Emily. That means a lot." We're quiet for some minutes - one? Three? She runs her fingers through my hair. I'm calm now, I realize, almost calm enough to fall asleep. "Emily? Do you think...it's just that Will took the baby to visit his family and I'm supposed to join them in a couple day, but I...I don't think I can be alone. Do you think you could stay with me? I understand if you're busy or if you don't want to, of course. I know you must be tired too. I just thought I -"
"JJ." Emily cuts off my babbling, which I'm well aware of because I'm suddenly nervous for some reason. I turn to look at her. "Of course I'll stay with you. I'd be happy to."
"Thank you so much, Emily," I say, smiling genuinely for the first time in what feels like weeks. She smiles back. I nestle my head further into her shoulder. Everything about her radiates calm and safety. I close my eyes and think I might drift off when I remember something else."I saw you," I tell her.
"Mm? Where?"
"In the crowd, outside the police station after Schuler got shot. I saw you looking at me. You looked...upset. I thought you were mad at me for letting him get killed."
"What? No! I could never be mad at you, JJ. Don't even think about blaming yourself. I just thought -" Suddenly it dawns on me.
"Oh my god,you thought I got shot, didn't you? You saw the blood on my face and you thought it was me?"
Emily sighs as if she's thought extensively about this already. For a minute I think she's going to cry. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," she confesses in a whisper. "You...you are really important to me."
"I love you, Emily, you know that?" She is obviously taken aback by this because I can feel her physically start under my head.
"I, um...what?"
"I mean, you're really important to me, too. You mean more to me than I think I could put into words. I mean, Will and I are together and he's the father of my child and I love him, but you, you're so much more than that. You're my best..." I have to trail off, because I realize she's not my best friend. That title is too small for her. She's not my girlfriend or even my lover, even though our connection is probably as deep as it would be if she was. She's more to me than any of those labels, so I say the only other thing I can think of, the only thing that makes sense. "You're Emily."
She chuckles and I can feel it coming from her heart. "Do you want to try to sleep?" As if she can sense my hesitation, she says, "I'll be right here." Sounds good to me.
As I get comfortable - stretching out on the couch with my head in her lap - I say, "Hey, I know I've been kind of distant ever since Will moved up here, but I never meant to disappear on you. I kind of miss you."
"I kind of miss you, too," Emily says, with just a touch of sadness in her voice. "We can talk about it once we get to your house, okay? We've got time."
"Okay," I agree easily, and yawn. Emily kisses the top of my head again. "Thanks again, Emily."
"Anytime, JJ," she says softly. "And thank you. For staying with me." I smile and snuggle closer into her lap. She's soft and safe.
Tonight I'm going to be okay. My reflection is going to be fine.