A Criminal Minds Ficlet
A Perfect Season
Fewthistle
Criminal Minds
Emily/JJ, Morgan/Garcia
Words: 665
Archive: P&P only.
A/N: This is for my glorious, wonderful New England boys, my Patriots, who just finished their undefeated, perfect season tonight, beating the Giants 38-35. I was watching the game and couldn’t help but imagine our intrepid agents doing the same. Now according to canon, JJ is an avid Washington Redskins fan. And given that the gorgeous Paget Brewster, our dear Emily Prentiss, is a Massachusetts girl, I couldn’t help but make Emily a New England fan.
For those who don’t know, or those in countries that don’t follow American football, being perfect garners some enemies, and there are those who do not like the Patriots. Anyone we beat. Which is everyone. However, there is a long-standing, heated rivalry between the Redskins and the Cowboys that rivals the Hatfields and the McCoys, hence the reference in the story.
Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this piece of total, and complete fluff.
Un-beta’d, so all mistakes mine.
As the last minute ticked down in the packed stadium, the men in red, white, and blue uniforms knelt down, symbolically it seemed, over the football. The final seconds of the game flickered on the huge digital clock, and suddenly the field was flooded with a teeming mass of people, as the rest of the team and the coaching staff rushed out to celebrate the triumphant end to their perfect season.
In Garcia’s living room, Emily Prentiss let out what could only be described as a loud whoop of joy, an answering war cry to the victorious warriors now swarming the field at the Meadowlands, excitedly jumping up from where she had been perched on the edge of the couch. Her face was split by a smile of complete and utter happiness as she launched into what JJ had to admit was a pretty decent version of “We Are the Champions”.
Freddie Mercury would be proud, the blonde thought grudgingly.
Garcia joined in, taking the harmony part, not because she was a great fan of football, although she did enjoy the hot men in tight pants aspect, as she pointed out several times during the course of the game, but simply because she just couldn’t resist sharing in Emily’s enthusiastic celebration of her team’s undefeated season.
“There’s going to be no living with her now,” JJ griped mournfully to Derek Morgan, an expression of slight distaste marring her lovely features. “God, I can’t believe that I’m in love with a Patriots’ fan.”
Derek laughed, his handsome face showing his obvious amusement at JJ’s predicament.
“Hey,” he said, a look of commiseration in his dark eyes, “it could be worse, you know. She could be a Cowboys’ fan.”
At that JJ gulped, the expression of distaste morphing quickly into absolute disgust.
“Dear Lord, you’re right,” JJ agreed hastily, still not thrilled with the sight of the brunette agent doing a little victory dance with Garcia, her bottle of Sam Adams tilting precariously as she swayed to “Sweet Child O’Mine”. “Yeah, but you’re not the one that has to go home with her.”
“Well, and mind you, this is just a thought, but, you know if you play it just right, you really could make all that happy enthusiasm work for you,” Derek suggested knowingly, a sly grin stealing across his face.
There was a pregnant pause while JJ digested Morgan’s advice, a slow smile transforming her face, the first one of the evening.
“Morgan, anyone who says that Reid is the smart one, doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” JJ stated firmly, the thoughts of exactly how she could channel Emily’s energy racing through her mind faster than one of Tom Brady’s passes.
“Hey, Em? Honey, come on, we should get home. I’m sure that Garcia will be glad to get rid of us. Won’t you, Garcia?” JJ inveigled, her glance at the tech goddess quite pointed as she stood to take the half-empty bottle from Emily’s grasp.
“Um, yeah. I am a little tired,” Garcia replied quickly, not missing her best friend’s cue, her hand coming up to muffle a decidedly fake looking yawn.
“Oh. Okay,” Emily agreed easily, her face still lit with a brilliant smile. “Thanks for having us over, Garcia.”
As the two agents said their goodbyes and left the apartment, Garcia dropped onto the couch beside Morgan, leaning her head on his broad shoulder.
“I take it you suggested a far more satisfactory way to enjoy Emily’s good mood?” She teased, her hand resting lightly on his thigh.
“Hell, yeah. I figured either way, JJ was going to get lucky tonight. If the Pats lost, consolation sex; if they won, victory sex,” Morgan laughed, covering Garcia’s hand with his own.
“So, which do you think is better, consolation sex or victory sex?” Garcia asked archly, a wide grin splitting her face.
“Baby girl, it’s sex. Who the hell cares?” Morgan chuckled, his arm slipping around her shoulders, and Garcia couldn’t help but agree.
Fewthistle
Criminal Minds
Emily/JJ, Morgan/Garcia
Words: 665
Archive: P&P only.
A/N: This is for my glorious, wonderful New England boys, my Patriots, who just finished their undefeated, perfect season tonight, beating the Giants 38-35. I was watching the game and couldn’t help but imagine our intrepid agents doing the same. Now according to canon, JJ is an avid Washington Redskins fan. And given that the gorgeous Paget Brewster, our dear Emily Prentiss, is a Massachusetts girl, I couldn’t help but make Emily a New England fan.
For those who don’t know, or those in countries that don’t follow American football, being perfect garners some enemies, and there are those who do not like the Patriots. Anyone we beat. Which is everyone. However, there is a long-standing, heated rivalry between the Redskins and the Cowboys that rivals the Hatfields and the McCoys, hence the reference in the story.
Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this piece of total, and complete fluff.
Un-beta’d, so all mistakes mine.
As the last minute ticked down in the packed stadium, the men in red, white, and blue uniforms knelt down, symbolically it seemed, over the football. The final seconds of the game flickered on the huge digital clock, and suddenly the field was flooded with a teeming mass of people, as the rest of the team and the coaching staff rushed out to celebrate the triumphant end to their perfect season.
In Garcia’s living room, Emily Prentiss let out what could only be described as a loud whoop of joy, an answering war cry to the victorious warriors now swarming the field at the Meadowlands, excitedly jumping up from where she had been perched on the edge of the couch. Her face was split by a smile of complete and utter happiness as she launched into what JJ had to admit was a pretty decent version of “We Are the Champions”.
Freddie Mercury would be proud, the blonde thought grudgingly.
Garcia joined in, taking the harmony part, not because she was a great fan of football, although she did enjoy the hot men in tight pants aspect, as she pointed out several times during the course of the game, but simply because she just couldn’t resist sharing in Emily’s enthusiastic celebration of her team’s undefeated season.
“There’s going to be no living with her now,” JJ griped mournfully to Derek Morgan, an expression of slight distaste marring her lovely features. “God, I can’t believe that I’m in love with a Patriots’ fan.”
Derek laughed, his handsome face showing his obvious amusement at JJ’s predicament.
“Hey,” he said, a look of commiseration in his dark eyes, “it could be worse, you know. She could be a Cowboys’ fan.”
At that JJ gulped, the expression of distaste morphing quickly into absolute disgust.
“Dear Lord, you’re right,” JJ agreed hastily, still not thrilled with the sight of the brunette agent doing a little victory dance with Garcia, her bottle of Sam Adams tilting precariously as she swayed to “Sweet Child O’Mine”. “Yeah, but you’re not the one that has to go home with her.”
“Well, and mind you, this is just a thought, but, you know if you play it just right, you really could make all that happy enthusiasm work for you,” Derek suggested knowingly, a sly grin stealing across his face.
There was a pregnant pause while JJ digested Morgan’s advice, a slow smile transforming her face, the first one of the evening.
“Morgan, anyone who says that Reid is the smart one, doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” JJ stated firmly, the thoughts of exactly how she could channel Emily’s energy racing through her mind faster than one of Tom Brady’s passes.
“Hey, Em? Honey, come on, we should get home. I’m sure that Garcia will be glad to get rid of us. Won’t you, Garcia?” JJ inveigled, her glance at the tech goddess quite pointed as she stood to take the half-empty bottle from Emily’s grasp.
“Um, yeah. I am a little tired,” Garcia replied quickly, not missing her best friend’s cue, her hand coming up to muffle a decidedly fake looking yawn.
“Oh. Okay,” Emily agreed easily, her face still lit with a brilliant smile. “Thanks for having us over, Garcia.”
As the two agents said their goodbyes and left the apartment, Garcia dropped onto the couch beside Morgan, leaning her head on his broad shoulder.
“I take it you suggested a far more satisfactory way to enjoy Emily’s good mood?” She teased, her hand resting lightly on his thigh.
“Hell, yeah. I figured either way, JJ was going to get lucky tonight. If the Pats lost, consolation sex; if they won, victory sex,” Morgan laughed, covering Garcia’s hand with his own.
“So, which do you think is better, consolation sex or victory sex?” Garcia asked archly, a wide grin splitting her face.
“Baby girl, it’s sex. Who the hell cares?” Morgan chuckled, his arm slipping around her shoulders, and Garcia couldn’t help but agree.