Author's Note: This is an almost total rewrite - especially now that it is going to be a full story rather than a one shot. It will be graphic in parts, so if you're not of legal age, please click the little back button on your screen now and go find a more appropriate story. There will be angst - would you expect any less from me? - but there will be happy moments too. Hopefully, a lot of them. Please, please review if you read this story - even if it's to tell me that you didn't enjoy it. I can't improve if I don't know what you guys are thinking, so help me help you. ;)
Author's Note 2: For those of you who love to hate on Will, I'm afraid that you're probably not going to be able to do that with this story because, alas, I've written him as a decent guy (mostly because I think he actually is and I don't think that he necessarily needs to be painted otherwise just so Emily and JJ can be together - which they totally will be in this).
Disclaimer: I own nothing Criminal Minds related - Emily and JJ just get my muse riled up pretty nicely and I very much enjoy painting the vivid pictures that she creates in my mind so that others can enjoy them too. :)
Chapter One: Always
The gentle hum of the fan was driving her insane; the faint light of the moon shining in through the thin gap between deep blue curtains, even more so; and the desire to shake the life out of the snoring body beside her was overwhelming.
She wasn't usually this touchy, but then she wasn't usually this frustrated. This lost. This consumed, and overwhelmed, and yet utterly numb all at the same time.
Rolling from her side onto her back, JJ stared up at the ceiling, counted the imperfections and traced the lines in the gold trim. But those imperfections didn't serve as sheep to lull her to sleep, and those lines didn't lead her back to reality when the force of her helplessly wandering mind dragged her away. No, instead they guided her further into the dark, towards the crevices at the very back of her brain, to somewhere beyond the constant alertness of motherhood, somewhere beyond the relentless responsibility of a job that parts of her now wished that she had never applied for, somewhere that she hadn't been, hadn't dared to venture to in almost eight months; and yet for the past forty-eight hours memories had been pulling on her hand like an excited toddler, whining a constant nag of This way! This way!
Her fingertips ghosted over tensed, white knuckles as she handed over the sealed manila envelope; that one simple gesture holding everything that she couldn't verbalise, everything that had been purposely ignored in favour of ignorance in the hours preceding that very moment. But as dark eyes swiftly diverted their gaze, as a soft, pale hand slid slowly, almost carefully, away, as a slim figure rose and turned her back; she swallowed away her tears and flirted with ignorance once more. Until..
Glossy blue eyes darted up, almost hopefully, like she was longing for the next words to come out of Emily's mouth to be, "Just kidding! You remember that history of mine, the one that I kept secret for all these years, the one that is now controlling my future, our future, ripping me away from you and ensuring that anything we may or may not have had just.. doesn't matter anymore. Well, it was all a joke. Surprise! I can stay!"
But it wasn't that.
"Don't contact me. Please. Please, do not contact me."
No, it wasn't even close to that.
The lights of the city bounced off of Emily's silky, dark hair as she walked away, reflected back in the silent tears trickling down JJ's cheeks. And soon enough, she was gone; leaving nothing but her perfectly enunciated, excruciatingly painful parting words lingering in her mind.
It was over before it had even begun.
She had stored that memory away a long time ago, forced herself to cut her losses, and adapted to the idea that her life was with Will - they had a child together; what could be more natural and perfect than that?
Of course, though, it hadn't been that simple. It had been far, far from simple to remind herself that she couldn't stay in Paris, there, at that very table, waiting for Emily to happen to walk by one day. It had been far from simple to board a flight back to the States and keep herself from pressing her face against the window, searching for the tiny ant-like figure on the ground thousands of feet below her that could, just maybe, be Emily. It had been far from simple to put on her best smile, greet Will as she returned home and pretend that the trip that she had just taken was simply boring and business related, and nothing at all to do with ripping out her own heart and throwing it to the wind like a used candy wrapper.
Actually, no, that part hadn't been so awful; that part had probably been the easiest, in all of this - because for all Will knew, her best friend had just died; because he was a good man who brushed back her hair when he caught her crying in the kitchen and held her when he found her staring into nothing; because he was the caring type of guy who understood when she was closed off, silent, distant; because he loved her, and he was there. Right there. Not thousands of miles away pretending to be someone he wasn't.
But as this good man, who loved her, and cared for her, and comforted her, made love to her.. All simplicity was lost once again. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't hold back the tears. The missionary position was always a wonderful thing for that - with his face buried in her neck, he couldn't see the tears burning in her eyes; with his moans of pleasure filling the room, he couldn't hear the stray sob that escaped her lips for what it truly was; with his thrusting hips pushing himself inside her, he couldn't feel her body shake with the force of everything that she had lost, of everything that she never really had. And once he'd come inside her, after she'd found some semblance of strength to make some cringe worthy scene of just how much she had enjoyed those seven minutes of heaven like she had many, many times in the past; she'd roll over. Roll over, clutch a pillow to her chest and promise herself that tomorrow – tomorrow will be the day that I pack up her things and move her to the back of my mind. Tomorrow.
But it didn't come tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week. It was months before she could finally say that it had stopped hurting so damn much, months before she could breathe a little easier, months before she had brainwashed herself into resignation; resignation to a new way of life. A life that, actually, wasn't new at all; a life that she had had long before Emily took over; a life that she had once been certain was everything that she wanted but just felt entirely foreign and uncomfortable to her now. But it was a life, with love, and it was far better than the pain that she felt each time Emily casually strolled through her mind, each time she flashed before her eyes like she was really there, each time she..
Her heart had stopped when Hotch spoke those magic words: It's time. Panic had set in: No, why? Morgan may be able to break Doyle without her. But it was no good.
It was time.
It wasn't fair; none of it had been fair. She had left, and done so with the cruelest request on her perfect, crimson lips. It didn't matter that she herself had helped her to leave, it didn't matter that it wasn't Emily's choice, none of it mattered now.. It was the most difficult thing that she had ever had to simply be okay with, and now she was just.. there. Home. Back where she belonged; back where she should have always been. Perhaps she was being selfish but, God, it wasn't fair.
She glanced over at the clock. 2:17 blurred from the small, black box, and she sighed, not for the first time that evening. In less than seven hours she was to appear on the stand and tell the whole court exactly why it was that their actions with Ian Doyle had been justified, exactly why it was that they had gone to the lengths that they had, exactly why it was that Emily damn Prentiss should be allowed to return to the team.
To her heart.
Why should she be allowed back into her heart? And actually, had she ever really left?
She couldn't help it as her eyes reverted back to the ceiling; her mind went there. To the hour prior to watching her lover disappear into the night, when they sat drinking coffee at a small café. To the thirty minutes prior to that, as they walked out of the quaint, hidden hotel, hand in hand. To the hour(s) prior to that, as her whole body thrust against the fingers inside her, as a hungry mouth sucked greedily at her clit, as she explored every inch of Emily damn Prentiss' body, as they explored each other; as they said goodbye.
And there it was; one of the main reasons that she had had no choice but to hide Emily away in a locked cabinet in the most darkened corner of her mind – that familiar heat deep inside her that always brought with it such an overwhelming guilt and an instant pool of wetness between her thighs. She shook her head, as if that would remove the siren responsible for such stirrings. But it was too late.
Her guilty eyes fell helplessly again to the body beside her. He was a good guy, really. Actually, scratch that, he was the best; the best that she could ever have hoped for, and he'd given her the best thing that she had ever been able to truly call her own.
But quite simply.. he just wasn't her. He would never be her. No one would ever be her.
Shifting slightly, she felt the comforter graze against her already hardened nipples through her thin t-shirt and her eyes fell closed as a whimper broke free from her lips. She should have been concerned for the sound, concerned that it would wake him but she was too hooked on the feeling. It felt so fucking amazing and so incredibly wrong all at the same time. Here she was, laid next to the father of her child, whilst excruciatingly wet from the thought of, not only another person, but another woman.
It was wrong. Of course it was. She knew that, but all that knowledge really served to do was make the tingling between her thighs unbearably worse.
Accidentally on purpose.. she shifted once more, again feeling the delicious graze of weighted quilt against sensitive flesh - it was okay if it was accidental, right?
The feeling was too much and yet, after a few more gentle shifts of her body, it was no longer enough. Instant replays of Emily kissing her, touching her, fucking her, were plaguing her, and the feat of keeping her breathing to a regular pace, her slowly thrusting hips from waking the guy beside her, was proving to be an impossibility.
There was certainly no chance of sleep now.
But the remorse for that man beside her, the one who loved her, took care of her, seemed a whole world away now; fading somewhere behind lust and.. no, not love. Please not love. It wasn't love. Was it?
"Hmmm.." That mind shattering notion was abruptly ceased in the instant that her slowly creeping hand slipped beneath her shirt, across her stomach, to an aching nipple that just begged to be tugged. And sucked. And bitten. And.. Emily..
Her guilt was gone; it no longer existed. Nothing existed save for the nipples rolling between her fingers, the exquisite images of lust and sweat and thrusts and whimpers floating freely through the fog of her mind. Thank Christ that Will was a heavy sleeper. But even if he wasn't, would she really care? She was lost now, to a world of memory and fantasy..
"Does that feel good, baby?"
The question was rhetorical, and even if it wasn't, she had lost all ability to form a coherent responsive sentence a long time ago. Long before this raven-haired goddess had begun teasing her with the promise of fulfillment; long before a skilled tongue had worked her to her first mind-blowing orgasm of the night; long before she had nervously but successfully coaxed Emily to come against her own mouth; and much, much longer before she had wound up in this position, her whole weight rested on her forearms and completely powerless to the woman behind her, just, just barely inside her.
She mindlessly fisted the sheets beneath her palms, her forehead slumped forward against a pillow, her lips slightly parted as Emily, excruciatingly slowly, dipped the toy inside her once again. She couldn't see her face, but she was sure that the older woman was smiling; that smug, perfect grin of hers that only adorns her face when she knows that she's in control; when she knows that there's not a damn thing that JJ could do about it, even if she wanted to.
And no matter the reason for that smile, JJ couldn't help but feel both sad and elated for it all at once, because soon enough it would be gone..
It was that one all-consuming feeling that snapped her from her daydream; the one caused by a single digit that had wandered lower without her realising it and settled in a circling motion against her painfully aching clit. That one exquisite moment when you feel like you haven't been touched in months. Essentially, she hadn't. Not really. And now that she had it, that one fucking amazing second, she needed more. Much, much more.
"Emily, please.." Emily loved to hear her beg, and JJ knew it. And if that's what it took to feel that cock so luxuriously deep inside her then beg she would. Oh man, she would beg. "I need you inside me, baby.." Her hips thrust back against Emily's not-so-little addition that, no matter how many times they used it, she couldn't seem to get enough. "Mmm.. please.. Please, baby, fuck me.." But everyone had their breaking point and hers was fast approaching. "God dammit, Emily, fuck me! Please just-"
Her pussy was filled and stretched in one agonizingly divine, deep stroke and her face smashed further into the pillow, the feathers absorbing a sound that fell somewhere almost primal.
She couldn't help it. Two fingers plunged deep inside her oh so needy pussy before she could even recognize the very real, very present day sound that such an invasion caused, before she could even recognize the bed stirring slightly beside her..
"Oh, God, baby. Oh that's it." Her words sent Emily into a frenzy, and she quickened her pace, thrusting deeper each time. "Oh fuck.. Oh don't stop fucking me. Please don't stop fucking me."
She added a third finger, thrusting with concern for nothing but the release that she so desperately craved, the release that was so damn close..
Emily pulled her up to her knees with an arm across her lower stomach and pressed herself firmly into her back; the toy still buried deep inside her. Skilled fingers alternated between pulling and pinching her hardened nipples whilst one remained at a slightly protruding hip; perfect leverage to fuck her deeper than she ever had.
"You're so fucking beautiful when you're whimpering like that.." Emily whispered into JJ's ear. "So fucking sexy.."
JJ reached one hand above her head, gripping the pillow beneath her tight as the other thrust inside her; she was getting close. Oh so close.
Her hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of soft, raven hair, twisting it between her fingers as Emily fucked her relentlessly and yet almost.. lovingly.
"Faster baby.. please. I can take it."
Her eyes shot open, her fingers stopping instantly, her whole body freezing to the point where she wasn't even breathing anymore, and she had absolutely no words when Will rolled over to face her and spoke again.
"Oh, chere.. you should have said something. I would have been happy to help." He smiled that loving smile of his, his cock already hard against her thigh as he stroked his thumb over JJ's cheek and studied the clear arousal he found in dark blue eyes. "Would you.. like me to help? Would you like me to fuck you, baby?"
No. I would like her to fuck me. Oh god, I need her to fuck me. "Yes.." She whispered. It wasn't her, but it was far better than her own fingers. Shoving back the covers, pushing the crotch of her panties to the side, JJ parted her thighs for Will to enter her, to fuck her back to ignorance, and with a dishonest innocence in her voice, she begged. "Please baby.. please fuck me.."
But ignorance wasn't what she found when his cock penetrated her, or when he picked up an instant fast, thrusting rhythm, or when he groaned and whimpered and told her how close he already was, or when she wrapped her arms purposely around his neck and held him close to her to hide her own face…
She found her. She searched, and as always, she found her.
"Faster? I can do faster.." Emily whispered directly into her ear. "I can do deeper, too.." She added as she pressed her hand into JJ's lower back, causing the blonde to arch a little and impale herself further on her cock.
"Unnnnghh.. Oh Gos yes.. Oh fuck, Emily.."
"You close, baby?" Will grunted. "Fuck, I'm close. So close."
She pressed her hand to her mouth to silence the guilty sob that fell without permission as her hips mindlessly met Will's thrust for thrust, but she couldn't ignore the fact that she was indeed close, so fucking close, to an almighty climax, a release that she already hated herself for.
Emily quickened her pace.
Will quickened his pace.
Emily moaned directly into her ear.
Will grunted directly into her ear.
Emily's hips thrust one last, beautifully deep time into her.
Will thrust inside her, holding himself there, as deep as physically possible as stream after hot stream of his release filled her.
As she shook violently with the force of her orgasm, wave upon wave of pleasure gushing through her as lights flashed behind her eye lids, her own heartbeat hammering in her ears, Emily held her tight. As her breathing stopped completely, as her movements slowed to fluid rhythm, as her fingers dug into the skin beneath them, Emily moved with her. And as she finally floated back to reality, Emily spoke softly, honestly, sincerely. "Usted siempre será mío, Jennifer. Y yo soy siempre tuyo."
And then it came; the almighty release that she had been craving. Craving not only all night, but the whole time since she had last felt Emily inside her, against her. Since she had last felt her touch, her kiss; the softness of her white as snow skin, and the safety of her arms.
And as Will moved his hips in a few more gentle thrusts, she felt the last of his release spurting out of him as her muscles clenched sporadically around his now satiated cock, and the tears came; silently, but flowing with much the same freedom as the come between her thighs. They stung her eyes and almost burnt as they left tracks against her flushed cheeks, and as Will withdrew, she rolled over, clutched a pillow tight to her chest and promised:
Author's Note 3: Usted siempre será mío, Jennifer. Y yo soy siempre tuyo. = You will always be mine, Jennifer. And I am forever yours.