Quantico 12/23
Title: Quantico 12/23
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 3392
Prompt: 038. Pornography
Apologies: Kind of cracky. I actually know exactly when this is though. This takes place right before Belasco and before Didi, sort of in the same era as the chair sex.
“Hi.” Emma leaned sexily on the doorframe, her white leather jacket hanging open, her bag at her feet.
“Hi?” Emily swallowed at the sight of the apparition that had turned up on her doorstep. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in town. I thought I’d drop by.” The implication of the words was in the tone, not their semantic value.
Emily frowned. “Is this what kids call a booty call? I never quite understood what that meant.”
Emma pushed her out of the way and came inside. “Look, it was either get a hotel and hire a prostitute, or come here, and DC prostitutes are unreasonably expensive.”
“Why do you know this?”
Emma grinned. “It was an employment opportunity I was looking into for a while.”
Emily laughed and picked up her bag, shutting the door. “Of course you can stay. But I have a work party to go to tonight.”
“You do?” Emma looked confused. “It’s Wednesday.”
“It’s Christmas.”
Emma looked blank. “It is?”
“The twenty-third. The FBI tends to assume correctly that none of us have any family obligations.”
“Oh.” Emma scratched the back of her head, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to be festive, or anything.”
“I could tell.” Emily smirked. Emma flicked her nose.
“Need a plus one?”
“You’d come to my work party?”
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you in the FBI bathroom.”
Emily laughed. “No. Seriously. I’m sure Garcia has a camera in there.”
“Even better.”
* * *
There was something about showing up with Emma that always made her feel a little thrilled, and a little off balance. JJ smiled and waved as she came in, then caught sight of Emma, and her eyes narrowed. She was standing with Will, Henry in a sling. Henry was sitting up and looking around, and Emma’s words came back to her and she felt her face get hot. Emma slipped an arm around her shoulders, leaning into her enough to press her side against Emily’s back. Emily could almost hear her smile dangerously, and couldn’t help the shot of fire that threaded through her.
JJ was making little repressed seizures of irritation and clearly flashing ‘what is she doing here,’ with her eyebrows alone, but Emma sauntered up unconcernedly. “Jennifer.” She ignored Will, who intelligently cowered back. Henry on the other hand was wide eyed and mesmerized by the glitter of her necklace.
“Mama! Shiny!”
Emma looked down at him, nonplussed, and then back at JJ. She raised an eyebrow. “Has he started trying on your high heels yet?”
JJ’s eyes flamed, and Emily sought desperately for something alcoholic. “Aren’t you still banned from government buildings?”
“Only during work hours, darling.”
Emily just groaned and let them bicker, going to find Morgan and see if he had spiked the punch yet.
“Prentiss.” Hotch had found her over at the refreshments. “I hope everything has been going well.”
Emily smiled, nodding absently. They had six days off after this. It was going to be excellent.
“Actually, I was wondering if you-“
He paused as someone warm pressed against Emily’s back. Emma leaned on her shoulder, pressing her lips close to her ear. “You ditched me with Jennifer.”
“You seemed more interested in her than me,” Emily replied.
“A little taste of venom is always so refreshing.”
Emily laughed and then guiltily glanced back at Hotch.
“Ms. Frost. I didn’t realize that you had come for a visit.”
Surprisingly, Emma didn’t let go. She stayed flush against Emily’s back, a hand curling around her waist. “It was spur of the moment,” she said, and Emily could hear her grin.
“Are you staying for the holiday? Jack and I are going to be alone. I was just about to ask if Emily was busy.”
“I think I just might hang around. I don’t have any other plans.” Emily blinked, not expecting that. “I’m sure I’ll be able to keep her occupied.” Her grip tightened slightly and Emily tried not to show her surprise when Emma pushed her hips into her. She was certain she reddened anyway. “But what a quaint idea, having her to your little apartment.” There was something odd about her voice there. “And what a nice little party this is, although it does go to show how the government treats their employees versus their guests.”
Emily laughed involuntarially, thinking of the parties her mother had dragged her to. This work party was nothing in comparison, but it was more comfortable, or at least it would be once Emma stopped draping herself over her and making her blush.
* * *
Garcia was handing out crackers and paper hats, but security had confiscated her supply of mistletoe as a poisonous lifeform. Emma carefully avoided that corner and tugged Emily towards the bathrooms. Strauss was just leaving and gave a nod. Otherwise they were empty. Emma grinned at her.
“I bet you thought I wasn’t serious.”
Emily glanced over to her, eyes wide. “But you said you…” And she was backed up against the sink, and being kissed. She flushed with embarrassment at the little sound that escaped her. She had been so fucking turned on all night and she really couldn’t care that they really shouldn’t be doing this here right now anymore, and Emma’s hand was up her skirt, and she felt like a teenager, getting groped and so undeniably willing to just lose it already.
Both Emma’s hands were up her skirt, cupping her ass, and then lifting her slightly, just enough so that she could sit on the edge of the sink. The porcelain was cold against her bare skin, and Emily flailed back for something to hold onto. This really wasn’t that stable; she had seen these things break before. But Emma kissed her again, and she forgot.
Emma pulled away a little, grinning, and her tongue flickered out, just brushing across her lips, tasting her, eyes closed in appreciation. “I love it when you wear short skirts.” Her fingers teased, sliding up the inside of Emily’s thigh. Emily shook her head, snorting lightly.
“Easy accessibility, right?”
Emma laughed. “I’m not going to discount the visual. You don’t show off your legs enough.”
“Is that why you always steal my pajama bottoms?”
“No,” Emma said, unconvincingly. She leaned in, rubbing her nose up the skin by Emily’s ear. “It’s because your house is too cold.”
Emily sighed and tipped her head back at the first nip to the skin of her neck. “You’re such a liar.”
Emma bit down harder in reply.
“Hey!”
“I’m not kidding about the short skirts though.” She stepped back and gave Emily, perched precariously on the sink, a lecherous look. Emily glanced down and flushed. She hadn’t realized that Emma had managed to hike the whole thing up around her waist. She reached for it, trying to slide off the sink and pull it back down, but Emma’s hand was suddenly on her wrist, restraining her. “Don’t you dare. I’m looking.”
Emily glanced around awkwardly. “Anyone could come in!”
Emma spiderwalked her long fingers up Emily’s thigh, tracing teasing circles with her threatening nails. “I do believe that that is the point.” She moved in between Emily’s knees, pushing them apart, and tracing a nail up the crotch of Emily’s underwear. She leaned close enough that when she spoke their lips brushed, but didn’t kiss her again. “Don’t you want to show them? Show them you aren’t some sexless professional? That you aren’t pitiable and alone? You should be envied.”
Emily breathed in in surprise at that, and Emma kissed her, open mouthed, pushing in, and cupping her head to catch her when she tipped it back in submission.
“Envied, hm?” Emily commented with a pleased smile as Emma worked her way down her body.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was distracted by your cleavage.” And then Emma’s tongue was there and Emily hissed, grabbing the sink behind her. “Mmm, yes,” Emma purred into her chest. “Arch like that. Imagine someone watching you. They couldn’t look away.”
And then Emma had some how insinuated herself under her legs and her hot breath was brushing against the soaked cloth between Emily’s legs, and she never did this, and Emily tried to move so she could look down, but then Emma’s mouth was pressed against the cloth, her tongue stroking up it, pressing the sticky cloth roughly against her flesh. She hadn’t thought Emma’s tongue could be hotter than she was there already, but it was, and she gasped as it pressed into her, still tantalizing and torturous by the barrier of cloth. Without intending it she shifted her weight to her hands and lifted up slightly, just enough to move her hips. She hooked her ankles behind Emma’s back. She knew she could get off by grinding against her face. But Emma kept pulling her head away frustratingly, and then leaning back in and tracing circles around her clit with the tip of her tongue to torture her.
She wanted to sob by now. “God, just fuck me!”
“Really? Even though someone might come in?”
This was pure mockery. Emily reached out, only precariously balanced, and grabbed the back of Emma’s head, jerking it in and trying to rut against it, but Emma escaped, biting down on her inner thigh on her way out, and then she was gone, and tears were running down Emily’s cheeks.
“Get off, turn around.”
Shakily Emily obeyed, sliding down from the sink and turning, still leaning on the sink for support. She could see herself in the mirror now, flushed and tear streaked, Emma behind her, looking intense, most of her lipstick worn away. Emma caught her skirt and in one motion hiked it up over her hips. Then she jerked down her underwear and placed a hand between her shoulderblades to push her forward. When she didn’t move right away, Emma swatted her ass. It was harder than she expected and the contact made her bare skin sting. She gasped and bent forward immediately.
Emma kicked her legs apart and leaned in and this time it was her mouth directly on hot slick flesh. Emily didn’t want to think about what this would look like to someone walking in, bent over, grasping the sink for support, her ass bare, skirt up around her waist, underwear around her knees. Emma stayed behind her, fastidious as always, her tongue moving up in long strokes, from clit to cunt, swallowing, and licking her lips like a cat.
Emily felt the sweat running down her back and slicking her forehead. She wanted to come quickly, finish this, but Emma always slowed down when ever she tried to take control. And she was always in control, steady and careful, working everything up at just the pace she wanted.
A sink dripped and someone outside laughed too loudly. Every sound sent a shivery chill down Emily’s back and right into her cunt as she was sure it was someone walking in, Strauss probably, if she had forgotten something, and that was her job right there. And Emma’s tongue flickered over her just once more before pulling away, and something slid inside of her, one of Emma’s long talon-tipped fingers. She was so wet already and it worked through the mess slowly, letting it spread out as the tension was broken. Emma’s cheek was pressed against her thigh and she could feel her grin, and then a second moved in. Emma fucked her with two fingers, easily at first and then more roughly, and then she began scissoring her fingers, letting the sharp nails dig into the sides of her as the fingers stretched her.
“Fuck!” She tried to rise up, change the angle, but Emma moved quickly, almost before she had even decided to push off, and pressed her roughly against the sink.
“Don’t move,” Emma hissed into her ear, and then bit her earlobe. Three fingers were in her now. It hurt, and the thrusts were quick and hard. She was so wet that there wasn’t any friction, and she was being driven, so quickly, towards the edge.
Emma’s mouth was hot on her neck and she tried to breathe, tried to hold on. She couldn’t want it like this, her fingers gripping porcelain until the joints ached, staring at her own face in the mirror as she was spread and violated in the BAU bathroom.
Emma’s fingers were deep inside of her, and she moved her knee between her legs to drive her hand in with just that much more force. Beads of sweat broke out across her brow, and she tried to hold on, dug her teeth into her lip, not scream, and met her eyes in the mirror, then looked down into the sink, needing to not watch herself lose control.
She could hear the party going on outside. Anyone could walk in. They would see her being taken against the sink, open and dripping and being fucked like any desperate slut. And she didn’t care. She had asked for this. She pushed back, wanting it deeper. Emma’s thumb circled her asshole and she bit down hard on her lip, trying not to let out too much of the keen from her chest. She wanted it all, wanted it to hurt, and wanted to be seen, a sweating, needing, desperate mess, just about to come all over Emma’s hand.
She did, and held, gasping, as Emma’s movements slowed, drawing out the pleasure. Then she slumped to her knees, resting her head against the sink. Emma extracted herself and washed her hands and reapplied her lipstick, until she looked as pristine as she ever had.
<< Join me when you can. We’re not done though. I’m having you again later. >>
Emily let herself hang there and gasp for a few more moments, before pulling herself to her feet and doing her best to clean up. She finally made it into the party, her underwear still squashing uncomfortably between her legs. Everything felt open and achy, her head buzzed, unfocused, her legs barely held her up.
Hotch approached her again and tried to be congenial. She felt his eyes on her. She knew her nipples were sharp against the fabric of her dress and she probably smelled like sex.
Emma came up beside her and cupped her ass, making her gasp. Hotch looked at her, an impenetrable version of his usual scowl on his face.
“You sore, darling?” Emma whispered in her ear. “I want to fuck your pretty asshole tonight.”
Emily gulped. Hotch stared at the bite mark on Emily’s neck, frowned, and turned away.
* * *
At work on Monday, Garcia pressed a DVD into Emily’s hand. “Merry Christmas.” She grinned. “And Merry Christmas to me.”
Emily turned red.
* * *
“There’s something coming in the mail for you today.”
Emma blinked and frowned into the phone. “What?” She knew it was Garcia. Penelope was the only person who had the irritating habit of calling her and starting every conversation as if they were in a spy movie.
“You really don’t want anyone else to see it.”
“It’s already one. The mail should-“
<< Emma? >> Jean’s mental voice entered her head. << There’s a package for you. >>
“You really don’t want anyone else to see it.”
Emma slunk downstairs into the kitchen where a gathering of teachers and students were surrounding a box marked “TOP SECRET, GOVERNMENT PROPERTY, FRAGILE, and SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED.” She snatched it from the table.
“Thank you,” she said sharply and turned to leave.
“Emma.” Scott’s voice was cold. “We need to know what’s in that box. I don’t like the idea that you’re communicating privately with the government.”
Garcia was snickering in her ear.
“It’s a joke, Scott. Relax your ass muscles and maybe the constipation will go away.”
She stomped up the stairs.
Inside the box was an unmarked DVD. Emma slid it into her computer and adjusted the screen. It opened her video player program and started up. The opening shot was of the FBI bathroom. Emma started to grin.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” She chuckled. On the other side of the phone, Garcia grinned.
“Just wait for it.”
The voiceover started. “December 23rd, Christmas Party. Location, Quantico, BAU Offices, Women’s Bathroom. A suspicious meeting between rival powers.”
“I can’t say I’m a fan of the narration.”
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t interrupt any of the good bits.” One of the good bits was starting. It was Emily’s fault for not taking her seriously when she had suggested it, and her unexpected mewl, panting, and breathy low moans were suitable payback.
“Good mikes in there.”
“I always figured that the only way to tell a nefarious plot from a random encounter was to actually hear what they were saying.”
Emma watched composedly for a few minutes.
<< Emma. Please tell us what was in the package. >> Jean’s irritating whine interrupted her viewing pleasure, and she hit pause.
<< Pornography. >> she thought back, shortly.
<< What? >>
<< PORNOGRAPHY! >> She repeated, loud enough so that any psy-sensitive person in the building could hear her, and added a little visual stimulus just for Jean. << Tell your ex-husband that if he wants to see it, he had better be willing to pay through the nose, because sex like this is only better if you’re there… which I was. >>
Jean chuckled. << I’ll be sure to let him know. >>
Satisfied, Emma started up the film again.
“I don’t like the way I look on camera.”
“No?”
“No. I look like I’m enjoying myself a little too much.”
“That’s what makes it good. Emily’s getting fucked, but you’re the one getting off on it. With her you can’t even tell if she’s aroused or in pain… until there, now you can.”
Emma grinned. “How many times have you watched this?”
“I had to get the voiceover timed correctly!”
* * *
JJ dropped onto Emily’s couch. “I’ll take a glass, if you’re pouring.”
“Sure, just pick something on TV, okay?”
JJ flipped the tv on. It resolved into a shot of the BAU bathroom. She blinked. That was odd. She pressed play and set the remote on the coffee table.
“Emily? Why do you have a surveillance video of the bathroom at work in your machine?”
“Huh?” Emily glanced through the archway, towards the living room.
On screen, action had begun to occur. Emma followed Emily into the bathroom and all of a sudden pushed her up against the sink and kissed her.
“Oh shit!” Emily dove over the back of the couch. She twisted, smacking her shoulder on the coffee table, and the remote fell onto her head. Quickly, she hit stop and the picture disappeared.
JJ was staring at her, utterly shocked. “You made a fuck film?”
“Not… not… on purpose.”
JJ’s expression changed to one of incredulous amusement. “Garcia caught you on tape! You were having sex at work!”
“The Christmas party.”
“Oh my god! Oh my god, Emily!” JJ was rolling on the couch, laughter bringing tears to her eyes. “You made your own porn flick and you were watching it, right here, probably with your hand in your pants! Emily! Oh my god! I bet Garcia watched!”
“And overdubbed narration,” Emily muttered, glad she had had it on mute.
JJ was still laughing so hard that tears were running down her cheeks.
She left eventually, after the planned film and a second glass of wine. Emily shut the door behind her and wandered back over to the coffee table. The DVD was sitting out on a stack of magazines. She picked it up and spun it around her index finger, smiling to herself.
If she were the one that was watching, then maybe, just a little bit, she could understand what it was like to be someone worth envying.
* * *
Some things don’t stay secrets. Sometimes you just have to get used to it. At least her long sleeved shirts had covered up the ligature marks from the rest of that night until they faded. Only one of her students had seen the circle of bruises and glanced up at her, eyes wide with shock. But he wasn’t going to say anything. She had made sure of that.
FIN
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 3392
Prompt: 038. Pornography
Apologies: Kind of cracky. I actually know exactly when this is though. This takes place right before Belasco and before Didi, sort of in the same era as the chair sex.
“Hi.” Emma leaned sexily on the doorframe, her white leather jacket hanging open, her bag at her feet.
“Hi?” Emily swallowed at the sight of the apparition that had turned up on her doorstep. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in town. I thought I’d drop by.” The implication of the words was in the tone, not their semantic value.
Emily frowned. “Is this what kids call a booty call? I never quite understood what that meant.”
Emma pushed her out of the way and came inside. “Look, it was either get a hotel and hire a prostitute, or come here, and DC prostitutes are unreasonably expensive.”
“Why do you know this?”
Emma grinned. “It was an employment opportunity I was looking into for a while.”
Emily laughed and picked up her bag, shutting the door. “Of course you can stay. But I have a work party to go to tonight.”
“You do?” Emma looked confused. “It’s Wednesday.”
“It’s Christmas.”
Emma looked blank. “It is?”
“The twenty-third. The FBI tends to assume correctly that none of us have any family obligations.”
“Oh.” Emma scratched the back of her head, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to be festive, or anything.”
“I could tell.” Emily smirked. Emma flicked her nose.
“Need a plus one?”
“You’d come to my work party?”
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you in the FBI bathroom.”
Emily laughed. “No. Seriously. I’m sure Garcia has a camera in there.”
“Even better.”
* * *
There was something about showing up with Emma that always made her feel a little thrilled, and a little off balance. JJ smiled and waved as she came in, then caught sight of Emma, and her eyes narrowed. She was standing with Will, Henry in a sling. Henry was sitting up and looking around, and Emma’s words came back to her and she felt her face get hot. Emma slipped an arm around her shoulders, leaning into her enough to press her side against Emily’s back. Emily could almost hear her smile dangerously, and couldn’t help the shot of fire that threaded through her.
JJ was making little repressed seizures of irritation and clearly flashing ‘what is she doing here,’ with her eyebrows alone, but Emma sauntered up unconcernedly. “Jennifer.” She ignored Will, who intelligently cowered back. Henry on the other hand was wide eyed and mesmerized by the glitter of her necklace.
“Mama! Shiny!”
Emma looked down at him, nonplussed, and then back at JJ. She raised an eyebrow. “Has he started trying on your high heels yet?”
JJ’s eyes flamed, and Emily sought desperately for something alcoholic. “Aren’t you still banned from government buildings?”
“Only during work hours, darling.”
Emily just groaned and let them bicker, going to find Morgan and see if he had spiked the punch yet.
“Prentiss.” Hotch had found her over at the refreshments. “I hope everything has been going well.”
Emily smiled, nodding absently. They had six days off after this. It was going to be excellent.
“Actually, I was wondering if you-“
He paused as someone warm pressed against Emily’s back. Emma leaned on her shoulder, pressing her lips close to her ear. “You ditched me with Jennifer.”
“You seemed more interested in her than me,” Emily replied.
“A little taste of venom is always so refreshing.”
Emily laughed and then guiltily glanced back at Hotch.
“Ms. Frost. I didn’t realize that you had come for a visit.”
Surprisingly, Emma didn’t let go. She stayed flush against Emily’s back, a hand curling around her waist. “It was spur of the moment,” she said, and Emily could hear her grin.
“Are you staying for the holiday? Jack and I are going to be alone. I was just about to ask if Emily was busy.”
“I think I just might hang around. I don’t have any other plans.” Emily blinked, not expecting that. “I’m sure I’ll be able to keep her occupied.” Her grip tightened slightly and Emily tried not to show her surprise when Emma pushed her hips into her. She was certain she reddened anyway. “But what a quaint idea, having her to your little apartment.” There was something odd about her voice there. “And what a nice little party this is, although it does go to show how the government treats their employees versus their guests.”
Emily laughed involuntarially, thinking of the parties her mother had dragged her to. This work party was nothing in comparison, but it was more comfortable, or at least it would be once Emma stopped draping herself over her and making her blush.
* * *
Garcia was handing out crackers and paper hats, but security had confiscated her supply of mistletoe as a poisonous lifeform. Emma carefully avoided that corner and tugged Emily towards the bathrooms. Strauss was just leaving and gave a nod. Otherwise they were empty. Emma grinned at her.
“I bet you thought I wasn’t serious.”
Emily glanced over to her, eyes wide. “But you said you…” And she was backed up against the sink, and being kissed. She flushed with embarrassment at the little sound that escaped her. She had been so fucking turned on all night and she really couldn’t care that they really shouldn’t be doing this here right now anymore, and Emma’s hand was up her skirt, and she felt like a teenager, getting groped and so undeniably willing to just lose it already.
Both Emma’s hands were up her skirt, cupping her ass, and then lifting her slightly, just enough so that she could sit on the edge of the sink. The porcelain was cold against her bare skin, and Emily flailed back for something to hold onto. This really wasn’t that stable; she had seen these things break before. But Emma kissed her again, and she forgot.
Emma pulled away a little, grinning, and her tongue flickered out, just brushing across her lips, tasting her, eyes closed in appreciation. “I love it when you wear short skirts.” Her fingers teased, sliding up the inside of Emily’s thigh. Emily shook her head, snorting lightly.
“Easy accessibility, right?”
Emma laughed. “I’m not going to discount the visual. You don’t show off your legs enough.”
“Is that why you always steal my pajama bottoms?”
“No,” Emma said, unconvincingly. She leaned in, rubbing her nose up the skin by Emily’s ear. “It’s because your house is too cold.”
Emily sighed and tipped her head back at the first nip to the skin of her neck. “You’re such a liar.”
Emma bit down harder in reply.
“Hey!”
“I’m not kidding about the short skirts though.” She stepped back and gave Emily, perched precariously on the sink, a lecherous look. Emily glanced down and flushed. She hadn’t realized that Emma had managed to hike the whole thing up around her waist. She reached for it, trying to slide off the sink and pull it back down, but Emma’s hand was suddenly on her wrist, restraining her. “Don’t you dare. I’m looking.”
Emily glanced around awkwardly. “Anyone could come in!”
Emma spiderwalked her long fingers up Emily’s thigh, tracing teasing circles with her threatening nails. “I do believe that that is the point.” She moved in between Emily’s knees, pushing them apart, and tracing a nail up the crotch of Emily’s underwear. She leaned close enough that when she spoke their lips brushed, but didn’t kiss her again. “Don’t you want to show them? Show them you aren’t some sexless professional? That you aren’t pitiable and alone? You should be envied.”
Emily breathed in in surprise at that, and Emma kissed her, open mouthed, pushing in, and cupping her head to catch her when she tipped it back in submission.
“Envied, hm?” Emily commented with a pleased smile as Emma worked her way down her body.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was distracted by your cleavage.” And then Emma’s tongue was there and Emily hissed, grabbing the sink behind her. “Mmm, yes,” Emma purred into her chest. “Arch like that. Imagine someone watching you. They couldn’t look away.”
And then Emma had some how insinuated herself under her legs and her hot breath was brushing against the soaked cloth between Emily’s legs, and she never did this, and Emily tried to move so she could look down, but then Emma’s mouth was pressed against the cloth, her tongue stroking up it, pressing the sticky cloth roughly against her flesh. She hadn’t thought Emma’s tongue could be hotter than she was there already, but it was, and she gasped as it pressed into her, still tantalizing and torturous by the barrier of cloth. Without intending it she shifted her weight to her hands and lifted up slightly, just enough to move her hips. She hooked her ankles behind Emma’s back. She knew she could get off by grinding against her face. But Emma kept pulling her head away frustratingly, and then leaning back in and tracing circles around her clit with the tip of her tongue to torture her.
She wanted to sob by now. “God, just fuck me!”
“Really? Even though someone might come in?”
This was pure mockery. Emily reached out, only precariously balanced, and grabbed the back of Emma’s head, jerking it in and trying to rut against it, but Emma escaped, biting down on her inner thigh on her way out, and then she was gone, and tears were running down Emily’s cheeks.
“Get off, turn around.”
Shakily Emily obeyed, sliding down from the sink and turning, still leaning on the sink for support. She could see herself in the mirror now, flushed and tear streaked, Emma behind her, looking intense, most of her lipstick worn away. Emma caught her skirt and in one motion hiked it up over her hips. Then she jerked down her underwear and placed a hand between her shoulderblades to push her forward. When she didn’t move right away, Emma swatted her ass. It was harder than she expected and the contact made her bare skin sting. She gasped and bent forward immediately.
Emma kicked her legs apart and leaned in and this time it was her mouth directly on hot slick flesh. Emily didn’t want to think about what this would look like to someone walking in, bent over, grasping the sink for support, her ass bare, skirt up around her waist, underwear around her knees. Emma stayed behind her, fastidious as always, her tongue moving up in long strokes, from clit to cunt, swallowing, and licking her lips like a cat.
Emily felt the sweat running down her back and slicking her forehead. She wanted to come quickly, finish this, but Emma always slowed down when ever she tried to take control. And she was always in control, steady and careful, working everything up at just the pace she wanted.
A sink dripped and someone outside laughed too loudly. Every sound sent a shivery chill down Emily’s back and right into her cunt as she was sure it was someone walking in, Strauss probably, if she had forgotten something, and that was her job right there. And Emma’s tongue flickered over her just once more before pulling away, and something slid inside of her, one of Emma’s long talon-tipped fingers. She was so wet already and it worked through the mess slowly, letting it spread out as the tension was broken. Emma’s cheek was pressed against her thigh and she could feel her grin, and then a second moved in. Emma fucked her with two fingers, easily at first and then more roughly, and then she began scissoring her fingers, letting the sharp nails dig into the sides of her as the fingers stretched her.
“Fuck!” She tried to rise up, change the angle, but Emma moved quickly, almost before she had even decided to push off, and pressed her roughly against the sink.
“Don’t move,” Emma hissed into her ear, and then bit her earlobe. Three fingers were in her now. It hurt, and the thrusts were quick and hard. She was so wet that there wasn’t any friction, and she was being driven, so quickly, towards the edge.
Emma’s mouth was hot on her neck and she tried to breathe, tried to hold on. She couldn’t want it like this, her fingers gripping porcelain until the joints ached, staring at her own face in the mirror as she was spread and violated in the BAU bathroom.
Emma’s fingers were deep inside of her, and she moved her knee between her legs to drive her hand in with just that much more force. Beads of sweat broke out across her brow, and she tried to hold on, dug her teeth into her lip, not scream, and met her eyes in the mirror, then looked down into the sink, needing to not watch herself lose control.
She could hear the party going on outside. Anyone could walk in. They would see her being taken against the sink, open and dripping and being fucked like any desperate slut. And she didn’t care. She had asked for this. She pushed back, wanting it deeper. Emma’s thumb circled her asshole and she bit down hard on her lip, trying not to let out too much of the keen from her chest. She wanted it all, wanted it to hurt, and wanted to be seen, a sweating, needing, desperate mess, just about to come all over Emma’s hand.
She did, and held, gasping, as Emma’s movements slowed, drawing out the pleasure. Then she slumped to her knees, resting her head against the sink. Emma extracted herself and washed her hands and reapplied her lipstick, until she looked as pristine as she ever had.
<< Join me when you can. We’re not done though. I’m having you again later. >>
Emily let herself hang there and gasp for a few more moments, before pulling herself to her feet and doing her best to clean up. She finally made it into the party, her underwear still squashing uncomfortably between her legs. Everything felt open and achy, her head buzzed, unfocused, her legs barely held her up.
Hotch approached her again and tried to be congenial. She felt his eyes on her. She knew her nipples were sharp against the fabric of her dress and she probably smelled like sex.
Emma came up beside her and cupped her ass, making her gasp. Hotch looked at her, an impenetrable version of his usual scowl on his face.
“You sore, darling?” Emma whispered in her ear. “I want to fuck your pretty asshole tonight.”
Emily gulped. Hotch stared at the bite mark on Emily’s neck, frowned, and turned away.
* * *
At work on Monday, Garcia pressed a DVD into Emily’s hand. “Merry Christmas.” She grinned. “And Merry Christmas to me.”
Emily turned red.
* * *
“There’s something coming in the mail for you today.”
Emma blinked and frowned into the phone. “What?” She knew it was Garcia. Penelope was the only person who had the irritating habit of calling her and starting every conversation as if they were in a spy movie.
“You really don’t want anyone else to see it.”
“It’s already one. The mail should-“
<< Emma? >> Jean’s mental voice entered her head. << There’s a package for you. >>
“You really don’t want anyone else to see it.”
Emma slunk downstairs into the kitchen where a gathering of teachers and students were surrounding a box marked “TOP SECRET, GOVERNMENT PROPERTY, FRAGILE, and SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED.” She snatched it from the table.
“Thank you,” she said sharply and turned to leave.
“Emma.” Scott’s voice was cold. “We need to know what’s in that box. I don’t like the idea that you’re communicating privately with the government.”
Garcia was snickering in her ear.
“It’s a joke, Scott. Relax your ass muscles and maybe the constipation will go away.”
She stomped up the stairs.
Inside the box was an unmarked DVD. Emma slid it into her computer and adjusted the screen. It opened her video player program and started up. The opening shot was of the FBI bathroom. Emma started to grin.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” She chuckled. On the other side of the phone, Garcia grinned.
“Just wait for it.”
The voiceover started. “December 23rd, Christmas Party. Location, Quantico, BAU Offices, Women’s Bathroom. A suspicious meeting between rival powers.”
“I can’t say I’m a fan of the narration.”
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t interrupt any of the good bits.” One of the good bits was starting. It was Emily’s fault for not taking her seriously when she had suggested it, and her unexpected mewl, panting, and breathy low moans were suitable payback.
“Good mikes in there.”
“I always figured that the only way to tell a nefarious plot from a random encounter was to actually hear what they were saying.”
Emma watched composedly for a few minutes.
<< Emma. Please tell us what was in the package. >> Jean’s irritating whine interrupted her viewing pleasure, and she hit pause.
<< Pornography. >> she thought back, shortly.
<< What? >>
<< PORNOGRAPHY! >> She repeated, loud enough so that any psy-sensitive person in the building could hear her, and added a little visual stimulus just for Jean. << Tell your ex-husband that if he wants to see it, he had better be willing to pay through the nose, because sex like this is only better if you’re there… which I was. >>
Jean chuckled. << I’ll be sure to let him know. >>
Satisfied, Emma started up the film again.
“I don’t like the way I look on camera.”
“No?”
“No. I look like I’m enjoying myself a little too much.”
“That’s what makes it good. Emily’s getting fucked, but you’re the one getting off on it. With her you can’t even tell if she’s aroused or in pain… until there, now you can.”
Emma grinned. “How many times have you watched this?”
“I had to get the voiceover timed correctly!”
* * *
JJ dropped onto Emily’s couch. “I’ll take a glass, if you’re pouring.”
“Sure, just pick something on TV, okay?”
JJ flipped the tv on. It resolved into a shot of the BAU bathroom. She blinked. That was odd. She pressed play and set the remote on the coffee table.
“Emily? Why do you have a surveillance video of the bathroom at work in your machine?”
“Huh?” Emily glanced through the archway, towards the living room.
On screen, action had begun to occur. Emma followed Emily into the bathroom and all of a sudden pushed her up against the sink and kissed her.
“Oh shit!” Emily dove over the back of the couch. She twisted, smacking her shoulder on the coffee table, and the remote fell onto her head. Quickly, she hit stop and the picture disappeared.
JJ was staring at her, utterly shocked. “You made a fuck film?”
“Not… not… on purpose.”
JJ’s expression changed to one of incredulous amusement. “Garcia caught you on tape! You were having sex at work!”
“The Christmas party.”
“Oh my god! Oh my god, Emily!” JJ was rolling on the couch, laughter bringing tears to her eyes. “You made your own porn flick and you were watching it, right here, probably with your hand in your pants! Emily! Oh my god! I bet Garcia watched!”
“And overdubbed narration,” Emily muttered, glad she had had it on mute.
JJ was still laughing so hard that tears were running down her cheeks.
She left eventually, after the planned film and a second glass of wine. Emily shut the door behind her and wandered back over to the coffee table. The DVD was sitting out on a stack of magazines. She picked it up and spun it around her index finger, smiling to herself.
If she were the one that was watching, then maybe, just a little bit, she could understand what it was like to be someone worth envying.
* * *
Some things don’t stay secrets. Sometimes you just have to get used to it. At least her long sleeved shirts had covered up the ligature marks from the rest of that night until they faded. Only one of her students had seen the circle of bruises and glanced up at her, eyes wide with shock. But he wasn’t going to say anything. She had made sure of that.
FIN