Author's Note: As always, we need to think Kavi Leighanna and Sienna27 for the awesome TV Prompt Challenge! Please, let us know what you think.
The Spice Rack
Prompt: Sabrina, The Teen-aged Witch - "The Pom Pom Incident"
Jennifer Jareau stared in horror at the sight before her, her addled mind reeling at the sight. THIS was why she went to college?
Cringing at her reflection in the mirror above the white porcelain sink in the ladies bathroom, she shook her head morosely. "You've got to be kidding me here," she whispered to herself, slowly lifting a hand to push her heavy blonde hair back and pull it up into a tight ponytail. Frowning once again, she recalled the days when she'd been a green agent, fresh out of the Academy. Back then, she'd fantasized about these moments. She'd romanticized them. She'd spun them into a hazy web of glamour and justice, secrecy and dedication to duty.
But reality was so much harsher than fantasy.
It wasn't like this was her first undercover assignment. Far from it. She'd been a guidance counselor, a nurse, a secretary, a stock broker…and even once, years ago when her face had still had that innocent glow, a high school student. But never, not once, had she been approached for something like this.
A fucking stripper.
No, scratch that. Not just any stripper would do for this job. No, she was a fucking cheerleader stripper!
Glaring into the mirror one last time at the shocked face that stared back at her, she snatched her assigned cheerful pom poms off the sink. Hiding in the BAU bathroom wasn't going to solve their case any quicker, now was it?
Exiting the restroom, she slowly made her way back to the war room's round table, taking the least traveled maze of hallways back to her destination. Ignoring the intermittent whistles and catcalls aimed in her direction, she kept her chin held high, mentally making a list of every male agent that dared to look at her in less than a professional manner. Looking neither left, nor right, as she progressed down the corridor, she reminded herself for perhaps the fortieth time since Hotch's phone call that she was a highly trained, well educated professional.
Even if she was dressed like some airhead cheerleader better suited for the latest teen horror movie than the hallowed halls of the FBI.
Stumbling slightly in the four inch heels that just had to be part of the outfit, JJ dropped her gaze to glare at the open-toed black stilettos on her feet. What the hell kind of fucked up cheerleaders wore stilettos anyway? Didn't they understand proper foot care anymore?
As she slammed open the door to the war room, she tried to ignore the way all conversation ceased as soon as she stepped inside. Qualified agent, she reminded herself as she felt the eyes of everyone in the room touching her barely concealed body. Just another job in her many varied duties.
"Holy cow," Penelope Garcia whispered, her eyes wide with surprise as she ran her eyes up and down JJ's body. Her fingers itched to grab her iPhone and record the sight for all of eternity, but she was fairly certain that the woman wearing the outfit would have different thoughts about that.
"Well, rah! Rah!" Morgan grinned with a wink, his eyes widening appreciatively as he leaned forward for a closer look. "I think we got ourselves a bona fide member of the pep squad. I wanna be the first to say, "Go, Team, Go!"
"I'm still armed," JJ bit out, her gaze focused on the well-built black man as she teetered into the room, her shoulders stiff underneath the half-shirt.
"I'm fairly certain that we didn't have those at any of the schools I went to," Reid whispered to Garcia, his eyes dilating in a decidedly unscientific manner as he found he couldn't quit staring at his teammate. "Do you think her pom poms came with the ensemble?"
"I see you found the outfit," Hotch remarked as calmly as possible, trying to choke back a chuckle as he watched his agent's face flush.
"Outfit? Surely you must be kidding. No, what I found were a few scraps of material to strategically cover my important parts," JJ retorted, glaring at her boss as she grabbed hold of the back of a chair to maintain her balance.
"Barely," Emily squeaked, getting a look at JJ's skirt from behind. "Don't bend over, Jayje," she offered sagely.
"Wasn't planning to," JJ replied, keeping her gaze focused on Hotch and ignoring the others. Drawing in a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a bare moment as she attempted to regain control of the various felonious thoughts currently fighting for dominance in her mind. "You know, sir, when I took my oath to serve and protect this isn't quite what I envisioned. Exactly how am I supposed to fight crime in this ensemble?" she asked in her most professional voice, shaking her pom poms as she gestured down her well-displayed body.
"Oh, you can still fight crime, Jayje," Morgan chortled, nodding supportively as he wriggled his eyebrows.
"Yeah," Dave smirked from his position in the corner, piping up for the first time since the vision had entered the room. "One hard-on at a time," he grinned lazily, his eyes walking a leisurely path up JJ's curvaceous body appreciatively.
Eyes widening as she wheeled to face the attractive man in the corner currently responsible for her dilemma. Rattling a pom pom in his direction, she declared in an outraged voice, "You! This is your fault!"
"Moi?" Rossi asked with barely contained glee, pressing a hand to the supposed location of his supposed heart. "When Strauss asked me if we had a female operative that I thought could pull this off, I thought you'd be honored by my faith in you, JJ," Dave drawled, his grin widening as he watched two high spots of color flush her cheeks prettily. Damn, he'd always known that this amazing woman must have a few assets hidden beneath those proper suits and blouses she always wore. But now that he had tantalizing proof of that hypothesis, he was certain that he wanted to see more.
Turning sharply back to Hotch, one stiletto heel spinning and shaking, JJ growled, "Sir, I'd appreciate your permission to shove my pom pom up his…"
Holding up a hand, Hotch shook his head before his decidedly irate agent could complete her sentence. "Don't blame Dave, JJ. You fit the victimology. But," he added with a pointed look at his old friend, "if he doesn't stop goading you, you have my permission to use whichever of his orifices as you see fit."
"I always fit the victimology," JJ grumbled, shifting unsteadily on her feet in her heels again, gravity and balance suddenly competing for priority.
His eyes suddenly losing their earlier glimmer of appreciation, Dave felt his face start to harden as he shook his head, the thoughts of this beauty once again becoming bait for yet another unsub giving him pause. Leaning forward in his seat, he started to mutter, "Look, JJ, if you don't…."
But her focus was no longer on the older profiler or his comments. "I can't even walk in these things!" JJ growled, glaring at her feet as she wobbled slightly, grabbing for the high backed chair again. "What kind of cheerleader wears stilettos?"
"The kind that makes more money than you see in a year, Sugar," a husky Southern voice drawled from the far end of the room, drawing all attention in her direction. "And we're definitely gonna have to see what we can do about your team spirit before tonight, darlin'."
"Pardon?" JJ yelped as she jerked suddenly, caught off guard by the unexpected voice from the end of the table. Oh, sweet Jesus! Not only was she making a fool of herself in front of her co-workers, apparently complete strangers were now being subjected to this entire farce!
Clearing his throat, Hotch stepped to JJ's side as he motioned toward the newcomer. "JJ, I'd like you to meet your new mentor, Madam Cinnamon, proprietress of The Spice Rack…and your new best friend until this case is concluded."
Eyeing the voluptuous redhead in a skintight leopard print Lycra dress staring back at her, her bright green eyes dancing in a way that struck fear in JJ's already stuttering heart, JJ muttered the only words that seemed to fit the occasion. "Oh crap."
"The Spice Rack? Seriously?" Morgan enthused excitedly, dark eyes alight with mischief as he scooted his chair closer toward their new outside consultant. "Mmm, mmm, mmm! Been there! There's a whole lot of hot stuff cookin' in there!"
"Why, thank you, Big Boy!" Madam Cinnamon winked, reaching out to pat his arm. "We aim to please, and I just know that our newest girl here is gonna have a lot of satisfied customers!"
His Adam's Apple bobbing excitedly, Spencer pressed his hands over his eyes as he shook his head. "I KNOW we didn't have that in any of my high schools, either!"
Slowly turning her outraged gaze to look between Hotch and Dave defiantly, JJ shook her head firmly as she slammed her pom poms on the wooden table. "No way! I quit!"