Work Text:
Paris was made for lovers, it was said. Too bad she didn’t have one, Jennifer Jareau thought as she ordered another espresso from the flirtatious waiter at the small cafe she had chosen to wait for her contact in.
Her contact being, of course, a dead woman. Her hands stirred the hot beverage idly and she wished for a different ending to the road they were barreling down. The team, stateside, trying to find Ian Doyle through any means necessary.
Herself, lying to people she considered as close as family. Especially Spencer. God, she thought he was going to crawl right into that grave with the empty coffin at the funeral. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t tell them anything. Emily’s life depended on it. All of theirs did, really.
She just had to hold on a little while longer, and the truth would come out. After this eternally long game of hide and seek. God, she wished all the knowledge wouldn’t eventually drive a wedge between them.
But as she lifted her eyes to see a familiar face coming towards her, JJ knew it was a fruitless hope.
She also knew she would keep it alive as long as she could.
END