Title: Bend and Not Break
Rating: R. There’s sex, oh yes.
Wordcont: 2,263
Summary: A case gone horribly wrong brings Emily to JJ’s door. (Prompt by fewthistle.)
Spoilers: None, but it takes place in the not-so-distant future, and presupposes a relationship between them.
AN: This is much different than all the great fics I’ve read, but hopefully no less interesting and in character. When I read your prompt, fewthistle, I got the urge to write something angsty, culminating in comfort sex. I hope it’s not too far from what you wanted.
AN2: This story takes place in the CM world in my mind – where something happened between them after Revelations and their relationship has been building since. I was actually in the middle of writing that fic when I stopped to write this one because the prompt really struck me. And this story wouldn’t exist (or it would exist and pale in comparison) without my fic cohort, gespawcho.
AN3: About time somebody sexed them up in a fic. I’m just saying.


“What did Garcia say again?” Emily asks as they reach the top step.

“Apartment 2C,” JJ tells her, eyes quickly scanning the hall; as they head towards it, she adds, “and remind me never to call her from Morgan’s phone again.” That makes Emily turn to look at her, flashing a brief, amused smile, before rapping her knuckles against the worn door three times.

After a good 15 seconds, it swings opens halfway to reveal a slight, sandy-haired man.

“Alvin Neil?” JJ questions, holding out her badge. “We’re with the FBI, Agents Jareau and Prentiss. We’d like to ask you a few questions; can we come in?”

“What about?”

“Your brother Richard,” Emily says. His gaze darts between them, sizing them up; after a moment, he pushes the door open the rest of the way and turns to walk back inside.

“When was the last time you saw him?” JJ asks, closing the door behind her as Emily approaches Alvin. His back’s to her and he’s rifling through a drawer and Emily’s hand instinctively goes to her holster.

“Could you turn around, Alvin?” she asks; when he ignores her, she continues towards him, gun drawn; out of the corner of her eye, she can see JJ do the same. “Turn around, Alvin.” When he finally does, Emily stops abruptly, staring down the business end of a 9mm Glock.

“I’m not answering any of your questions.”

“You don’t want to do this, Alvin,” Emily says calmly, gun trained on him.

“Richard said I have to,” Alvin shakes his head resolutely. “Don’t get caught, he said. We’re partners.” His arm shakes as he speaks and JJ doesn’t miss it; it’s a weak spot she can exploit.

“Alvin,” JJ says suddenly. “Look at me.” Alvin’s eyes, wild and brown, meet JJ’s; the gun follows his line of sight.

“What?”

“Your brother’s going to pin it all on you,” JJ tells him, her tone even because if he’s focusing on her, his gun’s trained on her and not on anybody else.

“Shut up,” he grits through clenched teeth.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she continues, lowering her gun slightly; taking a slow step forward. “Come with us and tell us your side of the story.”

“Don’t come any closer.” His arm twitches, barrel aiming straight at JJ.

“Just put the gun down,” she presses. “Nobody has to get hurt here.”

Emily’s lips form a tight line; she looks sideways at JJ for a split second and she can see JJ’s gun angled too low to effectively protect herself.

“I said, don’t come any closer.”

Then there’s a shot that has Emily’s head snapping back to Alvin and before she can even fully register what’s happening, she squeezes her index finger and fires; feels the recoil and it’s a harsh jolt back to reality. He’s down on his back, motionless, and Emily spins, lowering her gun as her gaze settles on JJ.

“JJ. God,” Emily scrambles for her; sinks to her knees next to her. JJ’s clutching her arm and her shirt, crisp and white and hastily borrowed from Emily’s closest that morning, is soaked with blood. It seeps through Emily’s fingers as she puts pressure on the wound with one hand and uses the other to grab her cell, shouting for an ambulance in a voice that sounds too rough, too strained, to be hers.

“I’m okay,” JJ says through a groan.

“No,” Emily shakes her head, not so much talking to JJ as she is thinking out loud, “there’s too much blood. There’s – “

“Emily. Em.” The insistence in JJ’s voice makes Emily stop and meet her eyes. “I’m okay. I think it just grazed me.” Her breath is ragged as she asks, “is he dead?”

“Yes,” is all Emily says as she reminds herself to focus on the clear blue of JJ’s eyes and not the crimson staining her hands; her shirt.

“Did they find his brother yet?”

“I don’t know. Jayj,” Emily breaks off, momentarily panicked when JJ shifts and tries to prop herself up on her good arm, “don’t move.”

Then the paramedics arrive, and Emily shuffles out of the way as one of them takes over the pressure on JJ’s shoulder and the other goes to check on Alvin, pronouncing him dead. Emily isn’t sure how much later it is when Hotch and Morgan get there, and Hotch tells them Richard was apprehended while fleeing on foot.

“Prentiss,” Morgan says gently; he puts his hand on her back, guiding her towards the door. “Come on, let them do their thing.” Emily nods and, without thinking, she wipes her hands on her thighs; it doesn’t show through the black material, but Emily knows the stain’s there.

-

Emily’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV, arms folded against her chest. She sees the building’s door swing open and instantly stands; pulls off her sunglasses, squinting against the sunlight. She watches as paramedics push out a gurney holding a body bag; endless moments later, JJ appears.

JJ passes Hotch and Morgan and though Emily can’t hear it, she can tell by JJ’s countenance that she’s trying to put them at ease; she knows because she’s often been on the receiving end of a similar smile.

Emily meets JJ in the middle of the street. People hurry around them in all directions, but all Emily sees is the way JJ brushes her hair out of her face; the way she smiles softly and says:

“Hey.”

“Are you…” Emily trails off, but her concern is implicit; she lifts her hand to the sling holding JJ’s arm but her fingers are shaking so she balls them in a fist instead of touching her.

“Yeah,” JJ nods. “They’re taking me home now,” she adds after a moment. “Hotch insisted but I don’t – “

“No,” Emily interrupts, “it’s a good idea.”

“JJ?” Morgan’s voice cuts through. “This officer’s here to take you home.”

“Thanks, Morgan,” JJ says; her eyes meet Emily’s again, expectantly.

“I’ll see you,” Emily tells her with a nod; she looks like there’s still more she wants to say, but she just presses her lips together and watches as JJ ducks into the back of a police cruiser.

-

Hours later, after wrapping up the case and enduring an extensive debriefing, Emily finally unlocks the front door to JJ’s apartment. She drops her bag as soon as she’s inside and her eyes quickly scan her surroundings; instantly settle on JJ, who’s curled up on the couch. JJ’s head turns and she immediately stands; immediately smiles as Emily crosses the room towards her.

“Come here,” Emily says softly, carefully pulling JJ into a fierce embrace and sighing. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” JJ’s agrees with a contented murmur against Emily’s shoulder; her hands flatten against Emily’s back, drifting up and down soothingly. “Hey,” Emily pulls back and her brow furrows in concern, “you took your sling off.”

“Oh, yeah,” JJ says, “it was hard to move around with it.”

“You got shot, JJ.”

“Shot at,” JJ corrects, smiling slightly. “But I’m fine. It was just a big scrape, really.”

“You needed stitches, “ Emily tells her. “Another inch over and – “

“I would’ve still been fine,” JJ finishes for her and Emily’s face darkens as she says:

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” JJ asks; her brows knit together in confusion.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a bereaved family member,” Emily says. “You’re not giving a press conference here, JJ, so don’t try to spin things.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” JJ tells her gently. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not,” Emily counters. “I don’t want to worry that you’re going to jump in front of someone every time they’re in a dangerous situation.”

“I didn’t jump in front of you,” JJ points out, chuckling softly; the joke’s lost on Emily.

“You may as well have.” The corners of Emily’s mouth tug down and JJ reaches out, placing a hand on her arm.

“I won’t do anything that extreme. But I also won’t stand back and watch somebody else get hurt;” JJ says and shakes her head resolutely, “not if I can help.” Emily sighs, marveling at how ridiculously brave JJ is; how often bravery overlaps stupidity. The fear is still fresh in her mind as she cups JJ’s face, drawing her closer until their lips meet urgently.

Emily’s tongue darts out, coaxing JJ’s mouth open; JJ’s response is immediate and eager, as her arms circle around Emily’s waist. Emily’s own arms drop and she presses one hand against JJ’s lower back, pulling her closer, as her other squeezes between their bodies, palming JJ’s breast.

Emily hears JJ inhale sharply, moaning into the kiss, and she pulls back, breaking contact between them.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” JJ breathes heavily, “no. I’m okay.” She grabs the hem of Emily’s sweater and lifts it; lets Emily take over for her and pull it up and over her head. Then she cocks her head and her smile’s lopsided as she says, “come on.” She takes hold of Emily’s belt buckle, using it to tug Emily with her as she moves backwards to the bedroom.

When the backs of her knees hit something solid, JJ unbuckles Emily’s belt; unfastens Emily’s pants and pushes them over her hips. Emily kicks off her shoes and steps out of them, faltering momentarily as JJ’s hands skim over her stomach; as JJ’s thumbs trace the edge of her bra.

“God, I love looking at you,” JJ says like it’s occurring to her for the first time; like she’s realizing what she could’ve lost. It’s so soft that Emily has to strain to hear it. Reaching behind herself, Emily unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the floor; JJ’s gaze settles on her breasts and her hands soon follow, the touch so light, it makes Emily shiver.

Emily reaches out to unbutton JJ’s pajama top, vaguely pleased when she recognizes it as hers, and gently pushes it off JJ’s shoulders. Her hand lingers on JJ’s arm, fingers skirting around the bandage, stark white against JJ’s skin. She bends forward, placing a tender kiss on JJ’s shoulder; more kisses along the line of her clavicle.

JJ exhales slowly, fingers tangling in Emily’s hair. She uses her grip to encourage Emily to move higher and when Emily obliges, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her lips, JJ leans back, using her weight to topple them onto the bed.

She pushes Emily onto her back and they shift, heads sinking into the pillows and then JJ props herself up on her good elbow. Her free hand, arm bandaged at the shoulder, skims down Emily’s stomach; under her underwear and against hot, slick flesh.

“God, Jayj,” Emily’s hips buck up. Her heels dig into the bed for leverage, her body rising up to meet JJ’s hand, the movement causes JJ’s fingers to slide further, until the flat of her palm is against Emily’s clit.

“Em, wait,” JJ says, pulling her hand away; the dull ache in her arm stops and she quickly rolls onto Emily. Her knee slides between Emily’s thighs and she braces herself on her elbow, starting a slow rhythm as Emily’s hips arch off the bed; as Emily’s hands find her ass, guiding her movements.

“Like that,” Emily says, breath catching in her chest as JJ rocks against her. “Yeah.” Blonde hair spills into her face as JJ’s mouth hovers over hers, breathing in every gasp; occasionally ghosting over Emily’s lips. Emily comes with a sharp inhale, her pace slowing as she rides her orgasm out, hands gripping JJ’s hips firmly.

After a few moments, Emily’s mind clears enough to start moving again. Her hand slides over her own stomach, on its way JJ’s center, circling her clit. JJ moans raggedly, squeezing her eyes closed as she grinds on Emily’s thigh. She comes easily against Emily’s skillful fingers, the heady, euphoric feeling pulsing through her.

JJ rolls halfway off Emily, resting her head against Emily’s shoulder. Sated and medicated, her eyes flutter closed, and for a minute, all she can hear is their erratic breathing; the steady thump of Emily’s heart, until:

“I looked at you.”

“Hmm?” JJ murmurs sleepily.

“In the apartment – before,” Emily clarifies. “I looked at you. I let myself get distracted for a split second and you wound up getting hurt.”

“Em,” JJ says, lifting her head so she can meet Emily’s eyes, “you know you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I can’t?” Emily echoes, unconvinced. “JJ, if my judgment’s impaired because of my feelings for you, I’m putting us both in danger.”

“Emily,” JJ sighs. “What could you have done differently?”

“I don’t know,” Emily shrugs. “Not looked away from a suspect with a loaded gun; or I should’ve shot him first.” JJ squeezes Emily’s forearm and urges her hand upwards, until her fingertips meet the edge of her bandage.

“You’re not the reason for this,” JJ tells her. “I would’ve done the same thing whether it was you in that room with me, or Hotch or Rossi or a stranger on the street.”

“That’s a terrifying thought,” Emily laughs and it’s strained. She fingers the gauze on JJ’s arm gingerly, taking a slow breath before asking, “you’re really okay?”

“I am,” JJ assures her solemnly and Emily nods, choosing to hold onto that and let everything else fall away. She pulls JJ closer, until JJ’s head is once again pillowed on her chest, and says unwaveringly:

“Then I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”

fin