“Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.”
— Washington Irvin
Every time Emily closed her eyes, she dreamt the same thing; JJ standing at the makeshift altar in Rossi’s back garden, making her vows to Will, or Will holding onto JJ as they danced across the dance-floor with the rest of the small wedding party. No matter how much she tried to forget, her dreams were still the same, and every morning she woke up filled with regret for not letting JJ know how she felt.
There had been multiple times over the past six years where she could have told the blonde agent about how she felt; hell, they had an entire plane ride to Paris just the two of them, granted she was technically dead, but there was more of a chance then than there was now.
Before the wedding had started, before she knew JJ was planning on making Will a permanent figure in her life, Emily hadn’t planned on taking the Interpol job. She was happy being in JJ’s life, even if it meant that they were just friends because, in her mind, that was better than not having her at all, but somewhere along the lines, she had convinced herself to leave.
“I just can’t grab onto my old life,” is what she had told Morgan, and it was true. Everything after Doyle had felt tainted, and what she hated the most was that JJ had seen her at her most vulnerable; she was supposed to be the strong one.
Now, almost four thousand miles away, Emily was adjusting to her new life. It wasn’t hard. She was used to moving around, having a new set of friends every few years; she had her mother to thank for that. And while she missed the team, missed JJ, and knew that no one could replace them, she had a new team to handle.
After unpacking, which had taken less than two days, Emily threw herself into work. Staying late at the office with a pile of paperwork or arriving ridiculously early with the intention of trying to make her pile of work smaller. When there was no work for her to focus on, she found herself at bars, trying her best to forget her old life, the life she had come far too accustomed to; as much as she hated it, she sometimes ended up going home with someone. While her heart would always belong to JJ, Emily tried her best to fill the void that the blonde had left, but no matter who she took home, they would never come close to the younger agent.
The first few weeks she was in London, she had managed to stay in contact with her old team, mainly Penelope, who had been continuously texting her with tidbits of information. By the time she had been in London for two months, the communication with her former team had dwindled, and she caught herself purposefully not replying to messages or returning calls.
Emily knew it wasn’t right; she loved them all, they were her family. However, talking to them reminded her of JJ, and when it came to thinking about JJ, well, Emily tried her best not to go there.
A year into living in London found Emily in a stable routine. Managing to keep herself busy during the week, she reserved her Saturday nights for herself. No matter how much her new team asked her to join them at the local, she ended up at home, sitting alone on her sofa, nursing a bottle of scotch.
When she had arrived home four hours ago, she had been welcomed with a brown parcel on her doorstep. Without looking at the postmarks, Emily knew it was from Penelope. The eccentric blonde had recently taken to sending her a box every month with little things from back in DC; they usually included more than one photo of Sergio.
As she nursed a glass of her favourite scotch, she rifled through the parcel. This months parcel had included five photos of Sergio playing with the new toys Penelope had bought him and some chocolates from her favourite downtown bakery back in DC. Shoved at the bottom of the parcel in a layer of brown paper was a framed photo she hadn’t expected.
The photo itself was a good memory, it was from one of the many girls nights she had indulged in with JJ and Penelope, and she remembered this night vividly despite the amount of alcohol they had consumed. The night had been held at her apartment, and despite the chilling DC temperatures, JJ and Penelope convinced her to strip down to her underwear and climb into the communal hot tubs at the rear of her building. It was one of their more memorable nights, and for Emily, it was the first night in recent years where she had felt like a normal person.
With the memories of that night flashing through her mind like an old film reel, Emily downed the rest of her glass, and instead of pouring out another measure, she drank from the bottle. The brown liquid burned her throat, a sensation she welcomed. The longer she looked at the photo, the angrier she became.
“Fuck you, Jennifer.” Despite her head agreeing with what she said as she launched the photo at the wall, her heart was in a completely different mindset.
Emily flinched at the sound of the photo frame hitting the wall, the thin, protective glass shattering into a hundred pieces. She watched as the photo floated to the floor, she could still feel JJ’s eyes on her, and she didn’t know what to do.
The heavy scotch bottle stayed in her hand as she walked the short distance to the broken frame; she used the side of her hand to move all the shards into one pile, doing her best to ignore the photo that sat a few inches away.
A knock on the door caught Emily off guard, she knew it was late, and she had no idea who would be visiting her so late. Ignoring the knock, she carried on clearing up the smashed glass, hoping whoever it was would think she wasn’t home and leave her. Another knock sounded, this time more forcefully, so Emily dropped the shards of glass back on the floor and dragged her feet over to her front door, the bottle of scotch still in hand.
Opening the door with force, Emily was ready to scold whoever dared disturb her Saturday night, but her words fell short when she saw the last person she ever expected to see standing in front of her.
JJ was still beautiful; god, those ocean blue eyes caught Emily off-guard every single time, even more so when she hadn’t seen them in so long. They always had a way of rendering her speechless as they stared deep into the soul she had convinced herself she didn’t have.
“Jayje?” she asked softly, setting the scotch bottle on the side table next to the front door. Emily wasn’t sure if she saw her former partner or whether this was some alcohol-induced dream, so she reached out, briefly running her hand down the blonde’s arm. When her suspicions were confirmed that JJ was standing in front of her, she pulled her hand back and stood up straight. “What are doing here?” she asked curtly.
“Hi, Em,” JJ said softly. JJ could see the dazed look in Emily’s eyes, she could also smell the scotch, so she knew Emily had been drinking heavily. “How are you?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
JJ bit the inside of her cheek as she rolled her eyes, forcing her way into the apartment, past the stubborn brunette. Emily’s London apartment bared a striking resemblance to the one she had in DC. The layout was similar, and all the furniture, while different styles, was the same shade, bare and uninviting.
“No ‘Hi JJ, how are you doing?’, or ‘Sorry for not keeping in touch?’”
“JJ,” Emily warned; she turned, leaving her front door open. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You let Pen visit,” she said, spinning around to face Emily. “Twice, actually. So why can’t I?”
Emily didn’t trust herself. Half of her wanted to argue into the night with JJ as to why you can't turn up on someone’s doorstep when you haven’t been invited. Still, the other half of her mind, the half that was winning the battle, wanted to pin her against the wall and kiss her senseless; she knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop her mind from going there. They hadn’t had contact in over a year. Emily hadn’t spoken to JJ since her wedding, and she had done everything possible to erase herself from the blondes life; everything possible to erase the blonde from her life.
“Come on, Em,” JJ said; her tone of voice told Emily that she was here for more than just a visit. “We haven’t seen you in over a year, hell, I haven’t spoken to you since you disappeared over here.”
“JJ,” Emily warned again, her teeth clenched. Using her bare feet, she kicked the door shut behind her more forcefully than she meant to because if this turned into a screaming match, she didn’t want her neighbours hearing more than they needed to.
Looking around the apartment, JJ had no idea what had kept Emily from keeping in touch with the team back in DC. From the lack of personal items, pictures and mementoes, hell, JJ couldn’t see what kept Emily in London besides the job she came here to do. As she rounded the corner into the living room, something under her boot crunched. Looking down, she saw the broken picture frame, the picture of herself, Emily and Garcia just a few inches away.
“Shouldn’t you be at home with Will and Henry?” Emily felt the bile in her stomach rise when she spoke Wills name; she never could stand the man. “Why are you here?”
JJ picked up the photo, spinning to face Emily and waving it. “What did I do to you?” she asked, her voice slightly raised. “What did we do to you?”
“Nothing,” Emily lied.
JJ took a deep breath, “Seriously, Emily, we’re your family… or we were supposed to be. Who doesn’t speak to their family for a year!”
Wincing at JJ’s words, Emily knew she had to let the blonde get it off her chest. She saw the pain behind the bright blue eyes, she also saw the tears forming, and she hated that she was the one to make JJ cry; it was one of the main reason she hadn’t voiced her feelings despite the many opportunities that had been given to her to do so. Deep down, Emily knew she wasn’t good enough for the beautiful, amazing, kind Jennifer Jareau; being with Will, despite how much it hurt Emily, gave JJ the normalcy that Emily knew she couldn’t give her.
“What did I do to you?”
“Jennifer,” Emily hoped that by using her name instead of her moniker, that the blonde would back off, or at least show her that she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk.
“No, you don’t get to call me that,” JJ said; she pushed the photo into Emily’s chest. “So come on, what did I do?”
“You really want to know?” Emily said she grabbed the photo, crumbling it in one hand and letting it drop to the floor. “Right now?”
JJ was happy that she was finally getting a rise out of Emily; she knew the brunette far too well that she would never open up in a normal conversation. Arguing with her had always been the best way to get her to talk about how she was really feeling. “Yes! What did I do to make you hate me! Tell me!”
“You broke my fucking heart!” Emily yelled.
JJ faltered as her mind struggled to take in the information that Emily had given her. “Wh– what?”
“I loved you,” Emily’s voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the anger behind them, “Fuck... I love you, and you broke my heart when you married Will.”
In JJ’s mind, everything was finally falling into place. How Emily had acted in the years they had worked together, the lack of communication, the looks she had received from the brunette at her wedding were finally making sense. Everything made sense, and JJ couldn’t believe how dense she had to be to take this long to see it.
Furrowing her brow, JJ tilted her head to the side a little. “You– you love me?”
“The worst part–” Emily swallowed the lump in her throat that was threatening to make her cry, “The worst part about all of this is that you didn’t even know that you were doing it.”
JJ stepped forward, wanting to comfort Emily somehow, but the older woman shrugged off any physical contact as she stepped backwards. She had no words because out of all the things she thought she could have done to Emily, this didn’t even come close.
“You should leave,” Emily muttered, inching back to her door. Flipping the latch, she held the door open. “You should go back to your cosy family with your husband, Jennifer. That’s where you belong.” Emily stopped herself from saying anything more; she hated how vicious her words had sounded, and she didn’t want to risk upsetting JJ anymore than she already had.
Not ready to leave, JJ unbuttoned her black coat, taking it off and slinging the item over her arm. As much as she hadn’t been aware of Emily’s feelings towards her, she also knew that Emily had no idea about what she had come here to do... or much rather what she had come here to say.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Really?” Emily sighed. “What does your husband think about you hopping on a plane to fly halfway across the world?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” JJ admitted.
“Great way to start a marriage, Jayje,” Emily smirked. “Maybe you can get home before he notices that you’re not even in the country.”
“I don’t care what he thinks because Will isn’t my husband any more.”
Now it was Emily’s time to be baffled. Penelope had kept her up to date on everything that had been happening within the BAU via letters and the occasional text that she was terrible at replying to, but she hadn’t mentioned this. Closing the door behind her for the second time that night, Emily walked past JJ and sat on the sofa, hoping the blonde would hear the silent request to follow her.
“Why didn’t PG tell me?”
“I told her not to,” JJ sat down next to Emily, throwing her coat over the arm of the sofa, “I wanted to tell you myself, but you never answered my calls.”
Emily couldn’t bring herself to look directly at JJ, the woman had needed her help, and if she had any clue to the pain the blonde had been through, she would have been there to help in a flash; she would have done anything for JJ, she still would.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Emily had more questions than she felt like she had the right to ask; she knew she had to stick with the basics. “Why did things end?”
Shuffling towards Emily, JJ took the older woman’s hand in her own and squeezing it, smiling when she didn’t try to pull away. “I guess I realised that I didn’t really love him any more. I hadn’t loved him for a long time, or maybe ever.”
Emily looked up, the frown on her face softening under the watchful gaze of JJ. There was something about JJ that just calmed every angry bone in her body; any time she had been hurt, any time she had been frustrated on a case, any time she had been confused about herself, JJ had a magical way of washing all of that away.
“I stayed with him because of Henry. I guess thought that's what was best for him, but I didn’t take a moment to think whether I was happy, and it wasn’t until a month after the wedding that I realised, on my behalf, why.”
JJ moved her hand up to caress Emily’s cheek, her thumb stroking the sharp cheekbone. As hard as she tried, Emily couldn’t help but close her eyes and lean into the touch, a touch so innocent, but so Jennifer, a touch that she had longed for the past six years.
“I love you, Emily.”
Emily’s eyes snapped open; she wasn’t sure if JJ had just said what she had. In the furthest parts of her mind, she told herself that JJ being here was still part of some alcohol-induced hallucination. She had longed to hear those words for so long, but she couldn’t trust whether her mind was tricking her or not.
Searching JJ’s eyes, Emily tried to deduct what was happening. She had prided herself on knowing how to read JJ like a book; in fact, she knew that there were parts of the younger agent that not even her husband, ex-husband, knew. Those baby blue eyes held no malice, no dishonesty, despite how awful Emily had been in the past, and the older agent found herself slowly beginning what was in front of her.
“Jen,” Emily sighed; she rested her elbows on her knees and let her head fall into her hands. She was angry with herself, as well as utterly embarrassed. “I’m so sorry.”
JJ’s arm reached around Emily, pulling the older woman into a hug, her fingers brushing against the still-soft but worn Yale t-shirt Emily was wearing. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“You needed me,” she mumbled as she forced herself into an upward position, and JJ’s hand found its way to her lower back, rubbing gentle circles. “I wasn’t there when you needed me–”
“Em–”
“I shut you out. I didn’t want to, but it hurt less than to see you with him–”
JJ let out a huff as she rolled her eyes; she had seen this before. Emily rambling meant that there was little that would get her attention until she was finished with her point, so JJ knew she had to do something, or the older woman would talk herself out of this.
“And then you travelled all the way here… that's what? Four thousand miles? I should have been happy to see you. Don’t get me wrong, I am, but I just told you to leave–”
This. JJ didn’t even know what this was. She hadn’t planned much past telling Emily how she felt, and she definitely hadn’t anticipated Emily being in the state she was. If anything, all the younger agent wanted to do was put Emily to bed so she could sleep off the alcohol, then at least they could talk in the morning.
“I know I should've told you how I felt earlier. It would've saved a lot of heartache, but I couldn’t because you looked so happy, and I didn’t want Henry to get hurt in the process. God, how can you love me? I’m a mess.”
But even that wasn’t going to happen if she couldn’t get Emily to stop talking for one damn second, so JJ did the only thing she could think of. Closing the distance between Emily and herself, JJ’s hand made quick work of cupping Emily’s cheek, guiding the older woman’s face towards her own. Her eyes closed as her lips pressed against Emily’s; all the daydreams and fantasies couldn’t have prepared her for this moment.
Emily froze for a brief moment before relaxing into the kiss. Her hand snaked around the back of JJ’s neck, her fingers running over the blondes hairline as she pulled her in deeper. When JJ’s neck began to ache from the position, she gently pushed Emily back, their lips still locked together, and when Emily’s back hit the sofa, JJ swung her legs over the older agents lap, straddling her.
When her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, JJ pulled back, her hands stayed in their position on Emily’s cheeks, her thumb running over the warm skin. “Are you done?”
As Emily nodded to the question, her hands settled on JJ’s hips. She didn’t want to let the blonde go because she was scared that her mind would tell her it was a dream if she did.
“How about,” JJ said softly, her fingers brushing through brunette hair, “We go to bed, and then we can talk in the morning.”
After JJ had vacated her lap, Emily showed her through to the bedroom. When the younger blonde told her that she left her luggage in the hire car, Emily wordlessly rifled through her draws for some pyjamas, and then she left the room so JJ could change. A few minutes later, JJ came to find Emily; she was back in the living room, making up the sofa with a sheet and a pillow.
“What are you doing?”
Emily jumped as she felt JJ’s arms snake around her waist. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“Not happening, Prentiss,” JJ said, pressing a kiss to Emily’s shoulder. “You’re crashing with me tonight.”
Following back JJ back into her bedroom, Emily held back until the blonde had climbed in bed, following suit when JJ had chosen a side to sleep on. As she climbed into her bed, JJ opened up her arms, and Emily willingly cuddled into her, her arm stretching across the blonde’s waist.
“Good night, Emily.” JJ pressed a kiss onto Emily’s forehead.
It didn’t take long for Emily to fall asleep, and when she woke the next morning, her arm still wrapped around JJ, she noted how refreshed she felt. It had taken until that morning for her to realise how exhausted and out of sorts she was; it had taken a year, but once again, JJ had saved her… she always would.