Work Text:
The jet hummed beneath them, steady and familiar — the kind of quiet that only followed long cases and late hours.
It was the kind of silence that let your mind wander if you weren’t careful.
Emily leaned back into the leather seat, let her eyes for a moment, and pressed play on her phone. Her headphones cushioned the world just enough to soften the buzz of the engines. The guitar started—gentle, aching—and she didn’t remember adding this song to her playlist, but it stayed in the rotation anyway.
Ed Sheeran. Tenerife Sea.
She exhaled.
And when the first lyrics played—
“You look so beautiful in this light
, Your silhouette over me…”
Her eyes opened.
And they went right to JJ.
JJ sat diagonally across from her, curled into the corner seat by the window, her head leaning against the glass. Moonlight pooled in streaks across her face, highlighting the angles of her cheekbones, the soft line of her jaw. Her lashes fluttered against her skin as she blinked down at the open file in her lap, eyes moving slowly—distant.
She looked tired. Not from the case.
From life.
From grief.
But still, she was—God. She was beautiful.
“The way it brings out the blue in your eyes
is the Tenerife Sea…”
Emily didn’t mean to stare.
But something about this moment caught her completely off guard. Not just the light or the song or the quiet. JJ, in that light, in that stillness, looked more real to her than anything else in the world. And that realisation—
That ache in her chest.
It wasn’t new. It just… wasn’t ignorable anymore.
It had been growing for months.
A look across the bullpen that lingered too long. The brush of a hand when passing a file. The way JJ had leaned into her at a crime scene in Phoenix, not for comfort, but trust. Total, quiet trust.
Emily had thought it was just grief. JJ was clinging to her because she didn’t know where else to go. But now?
Emily wasn’t sure she knew where else to go.
Because loving JJ—realising she loved her—wasn’t something she could box up neatly and shelve. It had slipped under her skin so gradually, so completely, that now it pulsed there. Constant. Unspoken.
And tonight, under this soft cabin light, with Ed Sheeran painting the words she couldn’t say—
It almost broke her.
“We are surrounded by all of these lies
and people that talk too much…”
JJ looked up.
Their eyes met.
And Emily’s breath caught.
She quickly looked away, like she’d been caught trespassing in a memory that wasn’t hers to hold.
JJ didn’t say anything. Just offered a tired smile. But it was the kind of smile that said I see you.
And God, Emily wanted to believe that maybe JJ had been seeing her all along.
“You got the kind of look in your eyes
as if no one knows anything but us…”
She closed her eyes again, leaned her head back against the seat, and let the music carry her through the things she couldn't say yet.
Not tonight.
But maybe one day.
One day, when JJ wasn’t looking at her like she was still surviving.
One day, when loving her wouldn’t feel like something Emily had to hide in the spaces between silence and song lyrics.
For now, she just listened.
And loved her quietly.
Across the jet.
In the stillness.
In the music.
In the light that made JJ look like the only thing in the world worth burning for.
___
A week later
The rooftop was quiet.
The wind rolled in low and slow, carrying with it the kind of chill that sank into your bones if you stayed too long — but Emily didn’t move. She stood near the edge, arms folded, the city lights flickering far below like tiny truths she couldn’t reach.
The song played in her ears again — “Tenerife Sea.”
She didn’t even press play anymore. Spotify just seemed to know.
🎵
“You look so beautiful in this light
, Your silhouette over me…”
🎵
Her throat tightened. She blinked hard, hoping the cold would disguise the sting in her eyes. But when the first tear slipped down her cheek, there was no stopping it. Another followed.
“The way it brings out the blue in your eyes…”
And God help her — she could still see JJ the way she looked that night. Bathed in moonlight. Tired. Glowing. Untouchable.
She hadn’t been able to stop staring.
She hadn’t been able to stop feeling.
And that’s what terrified her most — that the line between comfort and love had long since blurred, and Emily had just kept walking, blindly, into something she couldn’t undo.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
The unmistakable sound of boots behind her.
Emily didn’t turn.
Not right away.
She wiped at her cheek, subtly, as JJ’s voice floated in — soft, careful.
“I was hoping I’d find you up here.”
Emily said nothing at first. She pulled off her headphone, let it rest around her neck.
JJ came to stand beside her, gaze fixed on the city, not pushing. Just being there.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said gently.
“You didn’t,” Emily replied, voice low.
A quiet settled between them, broken only by the faint hum of the song from her free earbud.
JJ tilted her head slightly, listening. “That song…”
Emily stiffened.
JJ looked over. “You were listening to it on the jet too… weren’t you?”
Emily’s heart skipped. She turned, surprised.
“How’d you know?”
JJ gave a soft shrug. “I didn’t. Not really. But you had that… look. Like the world had stopped spinning — and the only thing keeping you grounded was whatever was in your ears.” A pause. “And the way you looked at me…”
Emily swallowed. “It’s about you.”
The admission came easier than she thought it would.
Maybe because she was done hiding. Or maybe because JJ already knew.
JJ’s expression didn’t shift — not with shock, not with discomfort. She just stepped in closer.
“I wasn’t ready before,” she said quietly. “After Will… I couldn’t even look at the world without it hurting.”
Emily nodded. “I know. I never expected anything from you.”
“I know you didn’t.” JJ looked down. “But even in that pain, I think a part of me did see you. I just… wasn’t ready to admit it meant something.”
Their eyes met again.
Real. Raw.
🎵 “All that you are is all that I’ll ever need…” 🎵
The lyric drifted from Emily’s headphones, and this time, she didn’t flinch. JJ heard it.
And she didn’t pull away.
“I still wear the ring because part of me is afraid of letting go dishonours him,” JJ whispered. “But I think staying stuck in grief… dishonours what I still have. What I could lose if I keep pretending.”
Emily’s chest tightened. “JJ…”
“I don’t want to keep pretending.”
She reached out — slowly — and slipped her fingers through Emily’s.
They stood there like that, hand in hand, no fireworks, no kiss.
Just the wind.
Just the music.
Just the moment they’d both been walking toward for longer than either had dared to name.
They stood there for a long moment — fingers laced, the city spread out before them like a painting neither of them felt part of anymore.
Emily didn’t usually talk like this. Not about feelings. Not about beauty. Not about love.
But JJ was different.
She always had been.
Emily looked at her then — really looked — and it felt like the air shifted.
“Your eyes,” Emily said softly, her thumb brushing gently across the back of JJ’s hand. “That line in the song... ‘the way it brings out the blue in your eyes’...”
JJ’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching.
Emily kept going, voice quiet but sure. “I’ve heard that lyric a hundred times. And it never meant anything until that night on the jet. You were sitting in that soft cabin light, staring out the window, and—God, JJ—your eyes looked like... like something out of another world. Like the ocean right before a storm, deep and endless and aching.”
JJ blinked — slowly, carefully — but didn’t let go.
Emily smiled, just a little. “And I realized… I’d never seen anything more beautiful. Not just how you looked. But you. The weight you carry. The way you keep going, even when everything hurts.”
The wind tugged at JJ’s hair, strands catching in the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t move. Her eyes stayed locked on Emily’s, shining now — full, raw, open.
“You looked like something I could never touch,” Emily whispered. “But still, I couldn’t look away.”
A tear slipped from JJ’s eye this time. She let it fall.
“I noticed the way you were looking at me that night,” JJ murmured. “I just… I was scared I’d imagined it.”
“You didn’t.”
JJ stepped in closer, close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. “I’ve never let myself believe I could feel something like this again.”
Emily brushed a thumb across JJ’s cheek, catching the tear.
“You don’t have to be afraid of it anymore,” she whispered. “We’ve both spent so long surviving, we forgot what it feels like to choose something. Someone.”
JJ’s voice broke. “Then I’m choosing you.”
Emily didn’t hesitate.
She leaned in, slowly, giving JJ the space to stop her — but JJ didn’t move.
And when their lips met, it wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t frantic. It was slow. Gentle. Like a promise made without words.
The kind of kiss that said I see you. I’ve always seen you.
And in the background, still faintly humming through the dangling earbud—
🎵
“You look so beautiful in this light
, Your silhouette over me…”
When they pulled apart, Emily kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, like she was afraid the world might vanish the second she opened them.
JJ’s forehead rested gently against hers.
They weren’t rushing to fill the silence. Neither of them needed to.
It was the kind of quiet that felt like something — not empty, but full. Safe.
And then—
🎵
“So in love…”
🎵
Emily’s breath caught as the lyric floated up from the headphones still draped around her neck — one earbud long forgotten, dangling just between them.
🎵
“So in love…”
🎵
JJ tilted her head slightly, just enough to hear it. Her eyes flicked to the earbud, then back to Emily’s face.
A tiny smile tugged at her lips.
🎵
“So in love, love, love, love…”
🎵
JJ let out the softest laugh — breathy, quiet, like it was caught somewhere between disbelief and relief. A small smile spread across Emily’s face as she caught sight of those blue eyes again - the ones she never wants to look away from.