Chapter Text
Emily sliced open the tape on the last box from her old classroom, still in search of a box of staples she was sure she'd packed. Her flags, a folded-up map of France, the antique globe she'd bought at a yard sale… No staples to be found. She sighed, folding the flaps back into place as she stared at the things she'd planned to hang. Her classroom was never well-decorated, but she always displayed three things: A map, French and Spanish flags, and labels of common items in the languages she taught (yellow for Spanish, blue for French). School wasn't in session, and it was too late in the evening for anyone to be in the office to show her where the supplies were kept.
Emily surrendered to the fact that she'd be returning in the morning to finish the things she should've been able to do in the two hours she'd spent sorting through boxes. At least she knew where her things were, she supposed, as she slid a teacher's textbook into her messenger bag. She could look through the district's curriculum in her new apartment with the same number of unpacked boxes in her eyeline.
Her keyring jingled as she fished it out of the bottom of her purse, echoing through the empty hall. She locked the door, the ugly fluorescent light flickering above the lockers.
"You must be the new foreign language teacher." A voice from behind Emily startled her, and she turned around with her keys between her fingers, hand clenched into a fist.
"Jesus, you scared me." Emily breathed out, pressing her back to the wall. "Yes, I am. Emily Prentiss."
"Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ." The blonde held out a hand for her to shake, a smile on her lips. Her bright blue eyes raked over Emily's figure, taking stock of her new coworker. "I teach English right there, across the hall from you."
"It's nice to meet you. I didn't think anyone else would be here so late." Emily smiled, her cheeks flushing. Jennifer Jareau looked more like a PE teacher with her tight, gray tank top and leggings, defined biceps showing as she shook Emily's hand. Long, blonde hair was pulled into a French braid, a pair of pale pink sneakers squeaking as she stepped back. "Well, late in the day, and early in the year. School doesn't start for a month and a half."
"Neither did I." Jennifer laughed. "I tend to go a little overboard with the decorations, so I start pretty early. Are you getting unpacked?"
"Sort of. I didn't have staples." Emily sighed. "Or tape, so nothing's going on the walls tonight. I figured I'd just start going through the curriculum at home."
"Oh, I have plenty of those!" JJ exclaimed. "Here, come in. You don't have to use it now, but I can save you from a supply run."
"Oh. You really don't have to." Emily followed JJ into her classroom, stopping in the doorway. She hadn't been kidding; her decorations were extensive. A book with pages curled into loops that cascaded further than they should hung from fishing wire above JJ's desk, a corner plastered in torn-out pages from novels had bookshelves pushed into it, and a cushioned armchair between them. Books were hung open, some with words written over their text, reading "Your story is welcome here." Fake vines were framing the whiteboard, hung over bookshelves, and pinned to the ceiling, intertwined with fairy lights that lined the tops of the walls. There were bulletin boards, one with a beige background and the words "Books We've Read" over rows of twine with clothespins on them, another with torn-out pages that each held a letter of "Blackout Poetry" posted over black paper. Instead of thirty traditional desks, there were five, and the rest of the seating was reupholstered couches, armchairs, camping chairs, beanbags, and pillows on the floor.
"Whoa." Emily laughed. "This is impressive. How did you do all of this?"
"Oh, this is years in the making." JJ shrugged. "The bulletin boards are new, but everything else is left over."
"How long did it take?" Emily asked, spotting a few lamps scattered across the room. "And how did you afford it?"
"Four years, I think." JJ hummed, handing over three boxes of staples and five rolls of tape. "And everything in here is a DIY project of some sort. Almost all of the furniture was free, and I fixed it up. It was the cheapest version of a very expensive project."
"You did all of this?" Emily stared at the blonde, searching for any clue that she was kidding.
"Yeah. I love stuff like this." JJ nodded. "The flexible seating was a passion project. The book chandelier was for my place, but it fits better in here. I thrift everything . Even the paper stuff from the bulletin boards is reused. It's called Better than Paper, and you can use it a million times. The computer science teacher, Penelope Garcia, and I share materials. I didn't buy anything this year, other than old books that were falling apart for the blackout poetry board."
"I didn't know people really did this stuff." Emily shook her head lightly.
"They don't." JJ chuckled. "I just didn't have any more space in my apartment."
"Insane. You're amazing." Emily finally looked back at her coworker, flushing at the smug grin on the blonde's lips.
"In more ways than one, Prentiss." She teased, collecting an oversized purse from the chair behind her desk. "I'm on my way out, too. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Will I see you?"
"Probably." Emily nodded. "I'll, um, see you then."
"See you."
Emily unlocked the door to her classroom, holding her cup of coffee between her forearm and chest, a huge reusable water bottle in her hand, two books tucked under her other arm as she awkwardly angled her body to maneuver the key into the lock. Her sunglasses threatened to fall off her head, her work bag dangerously close to sliding down her arm. She refused to make a second trip up the stairs, and she was struggling to pay for her lazy decision.
"Need a hand?" JJ's voice appeared behind her, and Emily's coffee tumbler clattered to the ground. Her books went next, then her sunglasses, and suddenly, Emily was only holding a water bottle. "I'm so sorry! I did it again."
"Don't worry about it." Emily laughed as she crouched to gather the papers that had been tucked into the books strewn across the laminate floor.
"No, I should come with an alarm or something." JJ sighed, stacking Emily's books and hauling the messenger bag over her shoulder.
"I think an alarm would be worse than your voice." Emily grinned, sliding her sunglasses into her purse. "It's fine, really. Thank you."
"You're too nice, you know that?" JJ stood, holding out a hand to help the brunette off the ground.
"Oh, just wait until the kids come back. They'll disagree." Emily located the key to her classroom again. "But I'm glad you think so."
"You can't possibly be a mean teacher." JJ scoffed. "You're just a female teacher with rules."
"You forget, Jennifer. They're the same thing." Emily swung open the door, her shoulders slumping as she remembered just how messy she'd left the room the night before. "I'm stricter than I seem."
"That doesn't make you mean either." JJ frowned. "Where'd you teach last?"
"A private school in Connecticut." Emily grimaced. "If I ever decide to go back, kill me."
"You're not mean, you just taught a bunch of rich kids." JJ sat on Emily's desk, swinging her legs as the brunette moved through the room. "You'll be fine."
"You say that now." Emily fished the staples and tape JJ had given her out of her bag. "I love teaching. I'm good at it. I like kids, and I love my subject. I just don't know if they like me back."
"Emily Prentiss, if these kids call you a bitch behind your back, I will be concerned for their health." JJ insisted. "I can guarantee you, you won't be the mean teacher here. We've already got someone in that spot, and if you can beat her, I'll sell all of the furniture in my classroom and give you the profit."
"Thanks." Emily smiled, opening the box that sat on the desk furthest from hers. "How much more decorating can you possibly do in that showroom?"
"None. I finished thirty minutes ago. I wanted to see if you needed help." JJ shrugged. "Four hands work faster than two."
"Oh." Emily paused, a French flag in her hands. "You don't have to."
"I know," JJ replied easily. "I want to, though."
"You want to help me unpack?" Emily raised an eyebrow. "Did you get hit in the head?"
"Emily, you're nice. You're funny." JJ rolled her eyes teasingly. "I want to hang out with you. I like decorating classrooms. Honestly, I don't see any downsides here."
"If you're sure." Emily sighed. "That would be great."
"Yes!" JJ hopped off the desk. "Tell me what to do."
"Well, I have binder clips and thumbtacks on my desk. Will you help me hang these?" Emily smiled.
"Binder clips? Why binder clips?" JJ asked, collecting the boxes.
"It's disrespectful to damage a country's flag. Piercing it, even with a thumbtack, is damage," Emily answered, holding up the fabric to find a proper place for it. "My mother's a diplomat, so I guess it was drilled into me. You respect the flag. It's a representation of someone's country."
"Yeah, you're not a mean teacher." JJ shook her head. "I don't think most people think about that."
"They should," Emily replied simply. "You know you're not supposed to damage the American flag. You hang it at the front of the room, and you don't let it touch the ground. Why wouldn't you treat other countries' flags the same?"
"Because most people don't care about the American flag either, sweetheart." JJ chuckled. "You're cute when you're all respectful."
"Shut up." Emily grinned despite herself, securing binder clips to the corners of the French flag.
"You'll learn soon." JJ teased. "I don't do that."
The pair sat in JJ's classroom, snacking on the stash of Cheetos JJ kept hidden in the bottom drawer of her desk. JJ spoke animatedly about the couch they currently inhabited, pointing out mistakes in the refurbishing Emily never would've seen. Her loose, white tee hung off one shoulder, a pale blue sports bra peeking out from underneath it. Emily let her eyes wander the room instead of JJ's body, and they caught on a small, pink, purple, and blue flag in a mug among a hundred pens.
"You have a pride flag in your classroom?" Emily asked, the words escaping her before they processed in her mind.
"Yeah. Why?" JJ's head tilted slightly to one side like a puppy's.
"Maybe it's the private school career talking, but I could never. It could've gotten me fired." Emily mused.
"That's illegal, Emily." JJ narrowed her eyes. "Why would they do that?"
"They couldn't fire me for being gay, but they'd have found a reason." Emily met bright blue eyes sparkling with rage. "What?"
"That's awful." JJ shook her head. "No union, huh?"
"Are you kidding? That'd get you fired even faster." Emily scoffed. "No union."
"Yeah, they could try that here, but it wouldn't go down well." JJ leaned back into the couch, holding her fingers, stained orange from cheese dust, away from her shirt. "And if the kids liked you? They're looking at lawsuits and media coverage. It's not worth it."
"Have I told you I love this place? I love this place." Emily smiled. "School hasn't even started, and I love this place."
"Well, we've only got a week now." JJ sighed heavily. "Are you ready for your first round of public school freshmen?"
"No." Emily laughed, taking her book from the coffee table in front of them. "My lesson plans almost are, though."
"Are you going to make them pick out French or Spanish names?" JJ laughed.
"God, no." Emily scrunched up her nose. "That's just weird. They have names. Some of them are French or Spanish already."
"Do you pronounce them with an accent?"
"Depends on the name, depends on the kid." Emily nodded. "If their name's supposed to have an accent, like Maria or Guadalupe, I'll use it. If they ask me not to, I won't. Your name doesn't change if you visit another country. People might not be able to pronounce it the 'American way,' but your name is your name."
"I love having a cultured foreign language teacher." JJ giggled.
"You're a dork." Emily nudged JJ's foot with her own, laughing right along with her.