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The invitation to team night out comes in a surprisingly professional-looking email from Penelope, and it lands in their inboxes at exactly four seventeen. Luke, who gave up trying to work at least half an hour ago, sees it first, and at his behest JJ, Spencer, and Tara follow suit, clicking into their email and laughing at Penelope's antics. It's Friday and they've just wrapped a case, so there's really no reason to not go. But, as the others send off their mock-formal RSVPs to Penelope, JJ hesitates.
It isn't that she doesn't want to spend time with her coworkers—her friends. She loves them, and they her, and any chance they get to escape the daily horrors of life in the BAU is a blessing. In fact, the longer JJ stares at the invite, the less she's able to form into words why she's hesitating. Ever since her divorce from Will two years ago, these team-wide outings have been a welcome reprieve from balancing co-parenting on her already strained schedule. But it's been long enough now where JJ is starting to feel what she can only describe as lonely, especially on the nights when she doesn't have the boys. The idea of dating now, though, fills her with dread. She's too old for this shit—not that it's stopped Tara and Penelope from trying to set her up with people every time they go out. A few times they've found someone JJ actually finds attractive—their success rate is much higher with women than men—but JJ is sick of small talk. With the things she has to see and do every day, she doesn't want to just go through the motions with someone. She did enough of that with Will. She wants to be genuine, seen, even at her worst, even when she's haunted by things she can't talk about. Especially then.
Well, you're not finding any of that alone at home, she reminds herself. Stop being grumpy and hang out with your friends. She sends off an affirmative response to Penelope before she can change her mind, and she hopes she won't regret it.
After another hour of not-work and a quick trip home to freshen up, JJ rejoins the team outside the bar Penelope found for the evening's festivities. Impressively, the team's all here: even Emily, who still doesn't quite seem to know what to do with her position as Unit Chief, but clearly she still wants to be involved. Penelope leads them all inside and secures a table, while Rossi heads straight to the bar to order their first round. Settling between Emily and Tara, JJ allows herself to relax.
Once the drinks and Rossi arrive, they fall into easy conversation, decompressing from the last few busy weeks. The shop-talk is balanced by anecdotes from their own lives, and soon enough the table is full of laughter. Dusk passes fully into night and the bar around them grows busier and more lively. JJ has more or less lost track of the time when Penelope suggests they play a game.
"Truth or dare!" she throws out, and is met with an equal split of laughter and groans. "Oh, don't whine, we can keep it PG-13 for Miss Unit Chief over here. It'll be fun!" Despite JJ's personal dissent to the idea, she knows immediately that Penelope will win this battle. Both Luke and Emily are incapable of telling her no, and Tara loves trouble too much to be deterred. Even if she, Spencer, and Rossi vote no, they're outnumbered. It only takes a minute for them all to come to the same conclusion, and Penelope smiles at the victory.
"Alright, fine, but you have to start," Spencer tells her. "This was your idea."
Penelope doesn't need to be told twice. She scans the table before settling on Tara, who starts them off strong by choosing a dare. "Ooh, okay. This has to be a good one," Penelope mutters to herself. The tables around them are full of other laughing, partying groups, and one of them catches her eye. "Alright. Over there, bachelorette party table. I dare you to get one of their numbers."
"Right now?!" Tara exclaims as the rest of them burst into laughter. "Give a girl time to prepare, Garcia."
Shaking her head, Penelope says, "You don't need my help! Okay, wait, one of them just left to go up to the bar. Ask her!"
Tara's annoyed grumble is lost in the ambient noise of the crowd as she pushes her chair back and stands, following Penelope's instructions to the woman in question. They watch in silence as Tara approaches and strikes up a conversation as they wait for the bartender's attention.
Beside JJ, Emily leans close. "I can't believe she's actually doing it."
JJ grins, sparing a quick glance at her friend; Emily's gaze is glued on Tara. "She's never backed down from a dare. Why, are you jealous?"
Emily scoffs, but she doesn't have time to respond before Tara and the woman burst into laughter. They exchange a few more words before Tara winks at the woman and slips away, returning to the table with an impossibly smug grin. She holds up her phone and says, "Number secured. Her name is Yasmin." There's a round of impressed congratulating that Tara basks in, but once it fades, the game is back on. "Alright Prentiss, you're up. Truth or dare?"
Face pink but voice steady, Emily goes for truth, which requires her to tell the contents of her last dream. The story that follows features Sergio as Unit Chief and Hotch as technical analyst, Penelope's outfits and all, and by the time Emily is finished, JJ is nearly in tears and her side hurts from laughing. Brushing the remaining moisture from her face, she leans back in her chair and watches Emily scramble for an appropriate dare to give Luke. She hasn't laughed this hard in a long time, and as she watches Luke stand and perform a line dance for them all, JJ is glad she'd decided to come out after all.
The turn passes from Emily to Luke, and he settles back into his seat and shakes off his remaining laughter before scanning the table for the next victim. His eyes land on JJ just long enough for her to sigh, and he grins. "Alright, JJ, you're up. Truth or dare?"
Sparing a brief glare toward Penelope, who only giggles in response, JJ shakes her head. "Truth."
There's a chorus of oohs at her choice, but she isn't drunk enough yet to do any dares Luke might come up with, even if his truth question is sure to be more nosy than she wants. He leans back in his chair, humming in thought, while JJ traces the rim of her glass with an idle finger and tries not to urge him to hurry up. After an interminable thirty seconds, his elbows land back on the table. "Okay, I've got one." His eyes twinkle with a level of amusement that JJ has grown to love, but not to trust. "Who was the first woman you ever kissed?"
"Ballsy question," says Tara as the others laugh at JJ's barely suppressed eye roll.
"You're a piece of work, Alvez," she mutters, swirling her glass as she contemplates how to answer. Surely the team has their own suspicions as to the truth—Luke has likely asked with the hope of confirming something between her and Emily, whereas Emily and Penelope both know that she hadn't been the first, though she's on the list. As amused as Tara is by the line of questioning, she's too new to have a solid guess, and it's clear by Spencer and Rossi's faces that they don't have a single clue either. It fills JJ with a brief headrush that no one knows the answer, and she grins at the realization. "It's hysterical that none of you actually know."
Disappointment floods Luke's face before he pulls himself together, and beside him, Penelope gasps. "Wait, you mean you've kept this secret for how long? Seriously, how long has it been since you kissed—"
"Hey, we don't need a laundry list of the people I've kissed," JJ interrupts, though the way Emily turns red certainly isn't helping anyone's suspicions. Ignoring Tara's mumble of I'd like to hear the list, JJ points an accusing finger at her best friend. "You know the person but don't know we've kissed. It was over ten years ago."
"Okay, so before you met Will," chimes in Spencer over Penelope's splutter of surprise, as he visibly sketches out a timeline of JJ's life in his head. "Was it before or after you joined the BAU?"
Shaking her head, JJ says, "Is this twenty questions or truth or dare?"
"Okay, but now guessing is fun!" interjects Penelope, re-energized by the fact that she allegedly knows JJ's mystery kisser.
JJ glances to Luke, who shrugs. "As long as you tell us who it is eventually, I don't care. This is kind of funny."
Great. Acquiescing defeat, she turns back to Spencer. "After the BAU."
"But before the State Department?" She nods. "And it's not Emily?"
The brunette chokes on her drink as JJ suppresses a groan, waving away the table's laughter. "No, the first woman I kissed was not Emily." If anyone notices that she doesn't deny ever having kissed Emily, they don't react.
The group continues to throw out guesses, each one less likely than the last. Clearly JJ's hint that Penelope knows who it is has stymied them; despite how long they've been friends, the hint has only stumped Penelope further. As they attempt to narrow down Spencer's timeline, JJ lets her mind wander. The kiss in question had happened on a night not dissimilar to this one, but in an apartment instead of a bar. She remembers the details vividly, despite the time that's passed: the books stacked on the desk, the typewriter beside them, the way the streetlights refracted through the faceted windowpanes, throwing designs of light over their two bodies. It was the first of many kisses JJ had shared with this particular woman, but it had ended abruptly, and all too soon.
"Alright, we give up," Penelope finally says, drawing JJ out of her memories. "Who was it?"
She lets the smugness radiate for a moment at a secret well-kept before sighing, knowing that there's no way she can back out of the telling now. "I'm surprised you and Spence couldn't get it. It was Elle."
Penelope's mouth falls open in a perfect O before she exclaims, "The first woman you ever kissed was Elle Greenaway?! Jennifer!"
"Don't Jennifer me," JJ says, half-lost in giggles at the indignance and shock written across Penelope and Spencer's faces. "It's not my fault we were good at keeping secrets from you guys."
"That's more than a secret, JJ! Kissing a coworker is big news to keep from your best friend!"
"We did more than just kiss," JJ mutters, the words hidden behind her glass but loud enough to make Tara cackle beside her.
As Penelope starts to pry her for more information, Spencer gives the rest of the team a brief rundown on who Elle even was. It pangs JJ that there's so few people left who knew Elle, who remember her as she really was, rather than as a specter of the BAU. But as Spencer sketches out the woman JJ was once maybe in love with, Luke's frown suddenly brightens into an almost-grin. "Wait a second," he interrupts, excitement at the edges of his voice. "This Elle of yours, did she grow up in Brooklyn? Real hotshot, bad at following rules? Impatient as hell but good in a fight?"
The sniper-accurate description stuns JJ. "Yeah, why?" she says slowly, her brow creasing as she wonders just how the hell Luke could possibly know Elle like that.
He lets out a loud laugh, his grin growing. "Holy shit, little Ellie Greenaway was your first kiss?" The table immediately clamors for more details, but JJ's attention snags on the nickname. The only way Luke could know Elle's childhood nickname is if— "She and I grew up on the same street in Brooklyn. We caused all sorts of problems together until we went to college, and then her mom moved somewhere else that Ellie never considered home. Piece of work, her mother was."
The game gets pushed aside as Penelope and Spencer start asking about Luke's childhood with Elle. He shares several animated anecdotes, from teaching her how to skateboard when they were in grade school to helping her beat up a boy who said the wrong thing to her best friend. The stories seem to resurrect Elle, bringing her to the forefront of JJ's mind and sending a sharp hit of longing through her chest. She hasn't missed Elle, at least consciously, in a long time, and the ache of it surprises her. Back then, they had grown close through evenings like these, coupled with stints in shared hotel rooms, talking late into the night. Even though they'd grown up so differently—my small town girl, Elle had called her once, as JJ lay sprawled across her bed—JJ never had to explain herself to Elle. Whether in the field or off duty, she had always been understood. For a moment, she allows herself to wonder just where Elle might be now—what she looks like, what she's doing. If she's happy.
It's been a long time. She could be married now, have kids. The thought sours JJ's mood, and she covers it by taking another long swig of her drink. She has no right to be jealous—is that what this is? Jealousy?—of a reality she's just made up, for a woman she hasn't seen in over ten years. And besides, it isn't like she herself hasn't been married and had kids, however ill-advised it had all been. Even still, she can't ignore the spike of possessiveness that has rooted in her at all the memories of Elle Greenaway. She had nearly been JJ's, once, before Gideon and Hotch almost got her killed. Who knows where they'd be now, otherwise?
When she tunes back into the conversation, Luke's phone is in his hands. "I've still got her number in here somewhere," he says, and JJ's blood runs cold. "We used to be a lot better at keeping in touch, but it's been a minute. We could always see what she's up to now."
"We do not need to do that," she insists, as Penelope exclaims, "Oh my god, yes we do!"
Luke's mischievous gaze finds JJ's across the table. "What are you so scared of, JJ?"
She doesn't dignify the jab with an answer, and instead says, "She left for a reason, Luke. If she wanted to talk to us, she would have." Elle's number sits untouched in her own phone, too. Even after all this time, JJ could probably still recite it from memory.
Despite the brief softening in Luke's face, he pushes through. "Well, let's find out!" The phone is at his ear before JJ can protest further, and she buries her face in her hands with a barely audible Jesus Christ, Luke. The gentle pressure of Emily's hand on her knee keeps JJ from spiraling completely, but her head jerks up when she hears Luke say, "Hola Ellie, soy Luke. ¿Me recuerdas?"
"No way she answered," whispers Spencer, the awe on his face surely a stark contrast to the pure shock JJ can feel on her own.
Luke sends Spencer a quick grin. "Estábamos hablando de ti. Ahora trabajo con tus amigos viejos en el FBI." There's a brief pause, then his eyes find JJ's, sparkling with something more than just amusement. "Sí, ella está aquí. ¿Quieres hablar con ella?"
JJ may not be fluent, but she knows enough Spanish to understand that exchange. Her heartbeat stutters in the pause that follows. Does Elle want to talk to her? Surely she must, if she'd asked if JJ was there…
The chill that had settled on her before is chased away in a flush of heat as Luke smiles and says, "Claro, amiga. Un segundo." She stares dumbfounded at him as he extends his arm, phone in hand. "For you."
It takes her so long to react that Tara ends up grabbing the phone and forcing it into her hand. Shaking away both the stupor and her friends' laughter, JJ pushes her chair back from the table and raises the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Hey, JJ." Elle's voice is soft and almost shy, but the simple greeting floods JJ with warmth. The way she says her name is so familiar, even now. "I didn't think it would be my childhood best friend that brought you back into my life."
She stands on unsteady legs as Elle speaks, ignoring the various knowing looks and teasing comments from her team to focus on finding a clear path to the front door. "Yeah, tell me about it. I had no idea Luke knew you." The cool breeze hits her as soon as she steps outside, chasing the last of the fog from her brain. Even as she breathes a little easier, JJ can still feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. "It's so good to hear your voice again. How are you?"
Elle exhales softly, and JJ can hear the smile in her voice as she says, "I'm good. I spent a few years in Seattle, then moved around the country helping victims of domestic violence. The work is—it's great, actually."
"That's wonderful, Elle." A tension she didn't know she still carried unravels in her chest. "I'm so happy for you. Where are you now?"
"I'm…back in D.C., actually. Got here around six months ago." JJ's heart kicks traitorously. "And you're still with the BAU, so I guess you're still around here too? How have things been for you?"
The question is a needed distraction from the urge to ask to see her. "Fine, yeah. The job has had its…ups and downs," she admits, which is certainly a nice way to repackage her time in Afghanistan and the resulting torture at the hands of her former teammates. "I'm a profiler now, have been for a few years. I, uh, got married, had kids. Got divorced. The BAU curse." She chuckles lowly, and is surprised to hear Elle join in.
"It is, isn't it? I never bothered." The jealousy from earlier dissolves in a bloom of relief, which JJ shakes her head to clear. Knock it off. "Proud of you for becoming a profiler though. I knew you had it in you."
"Thanks," she says, breathless enough to make herself blush. But as she sits in the easy silence, trying to figure out what to say next, JJ admits that she does want to see Elle again. Badly. "Do you—"
"Can I—"
They both burst into laughter at the overlap, and JJ urges Elle to speak first. "I wanted to ask…can I see you? I know it's been a while, but I miss you." The last few words are quiet, and JJ grips the phone tight to her ear, desperate not to miss a thing.
"I miss you too," she says softly, the words at odds with her racing heart. The truth of them surprises her. "I'd really like to see you. Just say when."
There is a brief, charged pause before Elle says, "Where are you now?"
JJ nearly blanks, but she pulls herself together enough to rattle off the name of the bar. "The whole team's here though, if you're okay with that. It's just Penelope and Spence left from when you were on the team, but…"
"It's alright," Elle interrupts gently. "As long as you're there, that's all I care about. Plus, this way I can't chicken out."
She thinks she might be blushing on every inch of exposed skin. "I—okay, yeah. Yes. I'll be here."
"Okay. I'll see you soon." They exchange brief goodbyes before hanging up, and JJ has to pause against the building before heading back inside. She feels buzzy and light, drunk on one simple conversation with a woman she hasn't seen in a decade. Forcing herself to focus, JJ slips back inside and returns to the table.
"There she is," announces Luke when he sees her, accepting his phone back with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell took you two so long?"
JJ takes a steadying breath as she drops back into her seat. "None of your business." And then, because there's no use in hiding it: "She's local now. She's going to come meet us here." Immediately there are excited exclamations from Penelope and Spencer; Luke looks surprised and impressed; and both Emily and Tara corner her with shared, knowing grins. JJ downs the rest of her drink in one swallow. "Don't fucking look at me like that."
"Maybe we wouldn't if your face wasn't pinker than Penelope's living room," Emily teases. "I've never seen you so flustered."
"I am not flustered," JJ insists, but it's lost beneath Tara's sing-song of "JJ's got a cru-ush!"
She tries denying that too, but no one is listening. Spencer, Penelope, and Luke begin hypothesizing whether or not Elle also has a crush on JJ—Luke votes yes, with much glee—while Emily and Tara continue their teasing. JJ slumps back in her chair and crosses her arms. Even Rossi doesn't bail her out, but he does send her a sympathetic shrug, content to watch everything unfold. Stewing in her own silence, JJ's mind whirls. She and Elle hadn't actually dated—they'd kissed, sure, and hooked up a fair few times, but nothing was ever labeled. Whatever JJ felt toward Elle she'd written off as infatuation long ago, the truth of it be damned, because that made dealing with her sudden departure much easier. She wasn't naive enough to entertain delusions that Elle had real feelings for her too, because Elle was experienced and JJ was, well, JJ. But whatever had flowed between them just now on the phone felt much deeper than two former coworkers who missed each other, even if they had also been friends.
Deciding she definitely isn't drunk enough for this, JJ stands again and makes her way to the bar.
—
The bar is in walking distance from her apartment, and Elle isn't sure if that's a blessing or a curse. Still, she'd meant what she'd said to JJ—by asking to meet up with her now, she's ensuring that she can't weasel out of the commitment. With Luke in the equation, not to mention Penelope and Spencer, Elle knows she has to show up. And she wants to, desperately. She wants to see JJ with an insistence that surprises her, because she doesn't think about Jennifer Jareau that often—she doesn't. But she's certainly thinking about her now.
Her work clothes are still casual enough for the bar, so Elle doesn't bother changing. She simply grabs her purse and walks out the door, because if she pauses to think she might change her mind. The night is cool enough to be comfortable, and she lets herself get lost in her memories as she heads down the block. Twelve years ago, she and JJ kissed in Elle's apartment and fell into…something. They'd never called it dating. It was a secret from everyone they knew, even after the shooting and especially after Elle disappeared. Sometimes she wondered why she'd never admitted to JJ what she was really feeling, but deep down, she knows why: JJ had been young and full of a bright hope that was already fading in Elle. The job had made her jaded before she even realized, and then it had been too late.
But there was a brief window of time when she thought, just maybe, JJ could be hers completely. When she thought that she could get over her fear and her indecision and allow herself to have something good with someone who saw her and didn't shy away. Is it too naive to think that it had been real for JJ, too? Maybe, maybe not. But it's been years, and Elle hasn't exactly kept in touch. It'd be only fair for JJ to have found better things, to want better things than Elle Greenaway.
But, then, Elle hadn't imagined the amazement in JJ's voice when she said hello. She hadn't imagined the fact that JJ was nearly breathless when she thanked Elle for her praise over making profiler. And she'd said yes to Elle wanting to see her. That wasn't nothing, either.
When she approaches the bar, Elle takes a deep breath. She's too old for butterflies, but her body doesn't want to listen to logic. She pushes down the feeling and steps inside, her eyes immediately scanning for familiar faces. It's been years since she's seen Luke, longer for JJ and the others, but Elle doesn't doubt that she'll know them on sight. Her gaze scans the tables near the door, but they're all too small to hold the group she's looking for. The bar area is next, and she skims past several bodies before doing a double-take on the back of a blonde head.
She knows it's JJ even before she turns, and already the breath is gone from Elle's lungs. It takes a moment for her thoughts to coalesce into something resembling words, and when they do all she can come up with is: fuck, she got hot. JJ was always cute, but this is not the same JJ that Elle remembers. Her hair is longer, a little darker, and rolls over her shoulders in waves. The soft lines of her face have sharpened, and as Elle's gaze makes its way up and down JJ's body, she sees that same change everywhere. The heels and pencil skirts have been traded for a leather jacket and boots that could break an unsub's wrist easily.
"Goddamn," Elle breathes. If she wasn't sure before, she damn well is now: Jennifer Jareau's hold on her has not loosened at all.
JJ's departure from the bar spurs Elle into motion, hoping to intercept the blonde before she can reach the rest of the team. She slips past a group of drunk guys in bad suits and catches sight of another familiar face toward the back—Spencer. Another drunk patron stumbles in front of her and cuts her off, and her jaw clenches. At this rate, she won't reach JJ in time. Sighing, she succumbs to plan B.
—
"Jay!"
Even through the noise of the bar, the nickname reaches her clearly. JJ skids to a stop and turns, eyes searching the crowd until—there. Her heart thuds against her ribcage as she takes in the smiling face of Elle Greenaway.
Oh, JJ thinks, and Elle's dark eyes glitter when she sees JJ see her. For a moment, she is not a jaded forty year old profiler, or a mom, or an ex-wife. For a moment she is twenty-seven again, waiting for Elle in a bar they've sneaked out to without telling the team. Every time Elle walked into a room, JJ was struck by how beautiful she was. Oh, she's still beautiful.
The years have been kind to her. She looks happy, alive in a way that chases those last few months of memory from JJ's mind. That haunted look behind her eyes has gone. She's grown out her hair again, though the bangs remain. In a room full of people, Elle commands JJ's attention in a way that no one else ever has.
Her gaze doesn't drop from JJ's as she slips through the remaining people separating them. Once she's close, JJ reaches out for her without hesitation. "You made it."
"I told you I would." Elle's hand finds hers and squeezes, and JJ hopes the flush of heat that erupts in her chest is not mirrored on her face. "It's—wow, it's really good to see you."
Past the nearly painful pounding of her heart, JJ has enough awareness to notice the blush that races across Elle's cheeks at the admission, and some of her nerves ebb at the sight. "Tell me about it," she says, grinning, and Elle smiles back. "You look great." Before JJ can overthink that definitely thought-out comment, someone bumps into Elle, and she stumbles forward into JJ's space. Her hand slips from Elle's and lands on her waist instead, steadying her.
"Jackass," Elle tosses over her shoulder, but she softens immediately once she turns back to JJ. "Sorry."
"Don't be. I've got you." It's only then that JJ fully processes this new arrangement: her hand on Elle's waist, Elle's on the back of her shoulder, and their bodies so close that JJ can feel the warmth of her even on all the places they're not touching. Elle seems to notice this only a second after JJ does, and the flush on her cheeks darkens.
Several inane thoughts flicker though JJ's head in quick succession:
Elle is, somehow, even more beautiful when she's flustered.
JJ hopes that she won't pull back.
This close, it would be so easy to kiss her.
Her fingers tighten involuntarily on Elle's hip at that last one, and before JJ can follow through—or, you know, talk some sense into herself—a familiar voice interrupts. "Hey, there she is! I see you two got cozy quick."
The spell breaks, and Elle rolls her eyes to land on a grinning Luke. "Cállate, you insufferable creature."
"Creature?! It's been, what, five years, and that's the greeting I get?" exclaims Luke, even as he reaches out to hug her. Elle laughs and returns the embrace, and JJ mourns the loss of her touch even as she smiles at Elle's happiness. "You hurt me, woman."
"You should be used to this by now," Elle says, jostling his arm, and when she tosses a wink to JJ, she thinks her heart stops. "Besides, it's so easy to be mean to you." Over Luke's shoulder, JJ catches Penelope's gaze. The analyst is clearly enjoying the show—and by the look on her face, she's seen everything—and she grins and flicks her eyebrow in a way that makes JJ want to sink through the floor.
"You see this shit?" Luke turns to JJ, holding a hand out in Elle's direction as she dissolves into more laughter. "You're flirting with my bully, Agent Jareau."
"Yeah, well, I've done worse with your bully," she grumbles, and Elle chokes on air as Luke's eyebrows shoot into his hairline. "Now please let's go back to the table before I see one more suggestive facial expression from Penelope."
"What, you think she won't tease you in front of Elle?"
JJ rolls her eyes. "Pen respects Elle because she's terrified of her. So, no, I don't think she will."
The comment gets a loud laugh from Elle, and surprisingly Luke acquiesces to her request. Though JJ suspects he wants the group's support more than he cares about saving her any public embarrassment, she doesn't comment further. As they move through the remaining crowd, Elle comes close again, her voice low but clear in JJ's ear. "Awfully glib with our past there, Ms. Jareau."
She can hear the teasing grin in Elle's voice without looking, but she glances back anyway. There's a glint of something in Elle's eyes that kicks JJ's heart rate up a notch, but she can't put a name to it. "He started this. Well, Penelope did, I guess. We were playing truth or dare and he asked who the first woman I kissed was." That doesn't quite explain why she'd let slip the rest of it, but Elle doesn't press further. Her hand brushes along the back of JJ's and sends a jolt of electricity running up her body. It takes all of JJ's self control not to grab for her hand again.
Once they reach the team, the teasing is set aside as Penelope and Spencer take turns hugging Elle and wider introductions are made. JJ stands off to one side, watching everything unfold with an uncharacteristic affection that she can't quite decipher. She's been through so much in the time since she last saw Elle—she's been in relationships, ruined them, had kids, acquired several lifetimes' worth of trauma, and turned into a hurricane who always seems to be one step away from getting fired. How is that within the span of half an hour, she's been doused with the same lovesickness that hounded her at twenty-seven?
How is it that after all this time, Jennifer Jareau might still be in love with Elle Greenaway?
—
Garcia takes charge of introducing Elle to the new agents, and by the time she's finished shaking hands and accepting hugs, Rossi has added an extra chair to the table. Elle collapses gratefully into the seat between Luke and JJ, not bothering to scooch out of JJ's space when their shoulders and knees bump together. Though their closeness earns JJ a knowing look from Tara, she too stays where she is, and Elle exhales slowly. She can only imagine the kind of teasing that JJ has been subjected to since their phone call, given how deviously excited everyone seems at her presence. It could mean nothing—but for once, Elle lets herself hope that it's something.
A nudge from Luke draws her out of JJ's orbit. "So, seriously, how've you been? Last time I saw you, you were still living in L.A."
"I'm good. The job moves me around every couple of years, but it's nice to be back somewhere that feels like home." She glances around the table. For a moment, it's as if she never left the team at all. This, too, was home for her once. "How'd you get caught up with the BAU? Didn't think this was your style."
He gives her a look, as if he isn't sure if he should be insulted or not. "Not sure what you mean by that, but they had a position open and I decided to go for it. It's a good team. I like the work."
"It is a good team," she agrees quietly, though her thoughts stray to JJ once again. Even though Elle had had a place among the BAU boys' club, and despite the love she'd had for them all, she'd always been most herself with JJ. It was so easy to exist with her, even before it grew into love. As if summoned, a gentle weight settles just above her knee. When she looks, JJ's hand is resting easily on her thigh, but her gaze is still on Penelope, who is staring pointedly at Elle. "Did I miss something?"
JJ tries and fails to suppress a grin as she turns to Elle. "Nah. Penelope's still upset that I kept you a secret from her."
Elle hums in understanding, a smirk of her own forming as Penelope huffs at JJ's unapologetic amusement. "I forgive you but only because your little confession actually brought Elle back. I'm still wounded."
"You know about literally every other person I have kissed, slept with, or gone on a date with. I am allowed one secret," JJ drawls, and whether it's the pitch of her voice or the alluring reveal that she is the one secret JJ has kept, her words fill Elle with a buzzing warmth. Between that and the continued pressure of JJ's hand on her thigh, Elle's composure is being put to quite the test. A dangerous wanting thrums within her, surprising and expected in equal measure. She knew from the moment she'd laid eyes on JJ that her old feelings for her hadn't gone away, but the sheer force of Elle's desire shocks her.
Deciding it's only fair for her to try and even the playing field, Elle snags JJ's drink from the edge of the table and raises the glass to her lips. "She knows I don't kiss and tell," she says to Penelope, and to her side, Luke agrees, bemoaning how hard it is to get her to gossip about her love life. But Elle's attention is locked on the woman pressed against her, whose cheeks have gone the exact shade of pink that Elle remembers.
It was a game they used to play: Elle would take things from JJ—her food, drink, clothes, whatever—as if they were hers, because it made JJ squirm. It took JJ a while to admit that she liked the possessiveness of it all, that her blushing reactions were from being turned on, not embarrassment. Once she knew that information, of course, Elle had done it as much as she could.
When JJ's eyes meet hers again, she tilts her head slightly and flicks an eyebrow, an unspoken challenge to her statement. Elle allows her the deflection, inclining her head toward JJ as her smile softens in subtle admission: I don't kiss and tell about you. Regardless of what they had or hadn't labeled themselves, keeping everything a secret had only added to the thrill. It was another layer of possession that Elle loved because of the way JJ craved it: they belonged just to each other. No wonder JJ had guarded the truth of them so closely.
At her acknowledgement, JJ grows smug, leaning back in her chair and lifting the glass from Elle's hand. She takes a long sip before tilting it slightly, a question of if Elle wants her own. Shaking her head, Elle takes the glass back, and JJ grins.
"What are they doing?" she hears Spencer ask.
"Flirting," Tara says immediately, followed quickly by Penelope saying, "Having their own silent conversation. Don't you remember them doing this all the time?"
As the two of them are pulled back into the group's conversation, Elle allows herself a small smile. Once upon a time, she would have chastised herself for being so brazen with her desires—especially because it's JJ. But it has been so long since she felt as she does right now: unrestrained, seen, wanted. Maybe it is reckless. Maybe it's just a bit of fun that she'll look back on fondly. But maybe…maybe it isn't.
Because Elle doesn't have to be a profiler to recognize the hunger in JJ's bright eyes, to intuit the intention behind her closeness. It is affecting her in exactly the ways she hopes her own flirting is affecting JJ, too.
Maybe, if she's lucky, this will go beyond just toeing the line. But for now, Elle places JJ's drink back on the table and lets her hand fall to her lap, covering JJ's. They don't look at each other this time. But beneath her fingers, JJ's hand shifts, relaxing and widening her touch, the subtle movement full of confidence that this is exactly how they ought to be.
—
It is, as usual, Rossi who calls it a night first, and from there the evening begins to quickly wind down. As tired as she is, JJ is loathe to leave this bubble that she's made with Elle. Neither of them have moved far since sitting down, and JJ keeps getting distracted by the idle movement of Elle's thumb across the back of her hand. She isn't even sure that Elle's conscious of doing it, which is even worse and yet so much better. Despite how long it's been since they've had occasion to be like this—flirtatious, affectionate—it's felt as natural to JJ as breathing, a rhythm she hasn't forgotten. Certainly Elle has felt it too, for she has met every one of JJ's moves with one of her own in a dance that makes JJ start to believe that Elle might want this, too.
When Spencer bids them goodnight, JJ knows the rest of them aren't far behind. The remaining six of them stand, and Emily and Luke head off to settle their tabs before they all regroup and head outside. The night has chilled noticeably, and JJ has to stifle a grin when Luke slips his jacket off and lays it across Penelope's shoulders. They exchange hugs and goodnights, but as Luke pulls Elle to the side, speaking rapid-fire Spanish at a volume to low for JJ to follow, she finds herself cornered by her remaining friends.
"What?" she hisses, trying not to draw Elle's attention.
Tara looks to be about a second away from either bursting into laughter or reading her for filth, so JJ is grateful when Emily speaks instead. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that if you do not, at minimum, kiss that woman again tonight, we will never forgive you."
"You are down so bad," Tara interjects over JJ's splutter of denial, "and so is she. Don't make faces, JJ. Elle looks like she wants to crawl down your throat."
"That's gross," JJ mutters. As much as she wants to push back against her friends, she knows they're right. God, JJ does want to kiss Elle. But she can't give in that easily. "It doesn't matter. We tried before, it didn't work. Who's to say it'll be any different now?"
"Oh, Jayje, stop overthinking it," says Penelope, not unkindly. Placing her hands on JJ's shoulders, she smiles softly. "Your circumstances are so different now—more importantly, Elle's are. There's nothing wrong with giving things a second chance. But, I swear to god, if I have to see you be that horny in public ever again, you are not living it down. So just kiss her. Please." Her cheeks go up in flames as Emily and Tara cackle at Penelope's description, but before she can tell them all to fuck off, Luke and Elle return to their circle.
"Alright, party people, I think we've tortured JJ enough for one night. Let's do this again soon, yeah?" Luke grins as JJ flips him off, and Elle shoots him a mock-salute as he turns and escorts Penelope down the block. Tara and Emily follow a few steps behind, Tara's offer to drive Emily home fading away as JJ lets herself bask in Elle's solitary presence.
"So," Elle starts, and it's only then that JJ notices the bright pink on her face, too. "My, uh—my place isn't far from here, if you don't have somewhere to be…?"
The shy attempt to invite her over makes a smile bloom across JJ's face, and her residual embarrassment fades away. "I'm all yours, Ms. Greenaway." Elle's resulting smile is brilliant, and she bumps JJ's shoulder gently as they set off down the sidewalk.
They maintain quiet conversation as they walk, content to savor each other's company. The habit of it is so familiar even after so long apart that it threatens to take JJ's breath away. Mere hours ago, she'd been wallowing in the waters of her own loneliness, and now she has…what does she have? Her eyes roam Elle's face, watching the way the streetlights glitter in her dark eyes and warm the highlights of her hair. There is so much history floating between them, but it is charged with possibility. What was it that Penelope had said? There's nothing wrong with giving things a second chance. Is that what she's been given? A chance to make the choices she couldn't before? A chance to hold on to something without fear of it slipping away?
They pause at an intersection, and Elle strays briefly to press the button for the crosswalk. "This light is always a bitch," she's saying, but JJ is only half-listening. Instead, her eyes track the way Elle adjusts her purse so she can hit the button with her elbow rather than her hand, and JJ's heart stutters.
It was something so stupid, the first time. They'd been on a case and JJ was sleep deprived, and at a crosswalk near the crime scene she'd pressed the walk button and come away with a palm full of blood. Ironically it helped them catch the killer, but JJ had been horrified, and from then on she refused to touch the damn things with her hands. Elle had picked up on the habit and integrated it into her own behavior without asking, without judgment. It had been important to JJ in a way she'd never been able to express.
Oblivious to JJ's internal whirlwind, Elle points across the intersection at her apartment building. Her lips are moving, but the only thing on JJ's mind is: she remembered. Twelve years and Elle still remembers JJ's stupid tic that gets her laughed at by everyone she's ever met. Everyone but Elle. The realization strikes her then, sudden, rolling down her back like cold water. She hates small talk, hates pretending. She wants to be seen and understood at her worst. She wants to be known.
Had she known the answer all along?
Did she get it right the very first time?
Elle turns to her and JJ thinks: You already know the answer.
There is no hesitation, this time. JJ steps forward, her right hand returning to Elle's hip as the other reaches up to cup her cheek. A flicker of surprise lights up Elle's eyes before she softens, her expression full of wanting. With a curl of her fingers, she pulls Elle's body flush to hers and kisses her, deep and slow. Elle's hands tangle in her hair, keeping JJ exactly where she wants to be. She runs the tip of her tongue along Elle's bottom lip and drinks in her gasp. They break apart briefly for air before Elle's mouth is on JJ's again, hungrier this time, the kiss full of teeth and tongue and twelve years of other lovers who never held a candle to this.
The need for oxygen forces them to separate again, but neither one pulls away. JJ's hand slips down to the back of Elle's neck as their foreheads meet, cradling her close. Their chests rise and fall in unison as they both gasp for breath, and through it Elle manages an airy, "Where'd that come from?"
The question is soft, not accusing—in fact, she almost sounds self-conscious. JJ rubs absentminded circles on Elle's hip with her thumb, and she straightens just enough to look Elle in the eye. "That came from realizing that after spending three hours with you, even after not seeing you for twelve years, you're still the person who knows me best. No one's ever seen me like you do." Moving to cup JJ's face with both hands, Elle brightens with a small, hopeful smile. "Plus, you're even more beautiful than I remember, and I've been thinking about kissing you since you walked into that bar and said my name."
This pulls a real laugh from Elle, and between that lovely sound and the heated kiss she presses to JJ's lips, JJ wonders if she might melt into the sidewalk. "You sure know the way to a girl's heart," she says, and the low pitch of her voice only fuels the fire growing in JJ's core. "But if you want to talk like that…when I walked in there and saw you, I forgot both languages I know. You are the hottest woman I have ever seen."
"Jesus Christ," gasps JJ, but then they're both laughing, curling into each other's warmth. JJ nudges her nose against Elle's cheek, and out of the corner of her eye, she watches as the light finally turns green. "Take me home?"
Only Elle could pull off the combination of lovestruck and devious that settles in her grin and makes JJ's stomach swoop. "I would like nothing more." As they unfold from each other, JJ grabs for Elle's hand, tangling their fingers together as they cross the last few dozen feet separating them from the privacy of Elle's apartment.
Distantly, JJ marvels at the series of small miracles that allowed this moment to happen. She could have turned down the invitation to go out; Luke could have chosen someone else in truth or dare. Somehow, JJ was lucky enough to find the only other person who could have led her back to Elle at exactly the right time. She is maybe the luckiest person alive, because after the door shuts behind them and the light flicks on, she has Elle Greenaway in her arms once again. She has the most beautiful of second chances, and she might even get it right this time.
Elle's hands find their way to JJ's waist, slipping beneath her shirt with the confidence of a woman who still has every inch of JJ's body memorized. Her touch, warm and insistent, chases all the thoughts from JJ's head. Right here, there is no room for reminiscing, or for dreaming. There is only Elle's hands on her skin, her soft hair beneath JJ's fingers, and a kiss that steals the breath from both of them.
Right here, all JJ can see, touch, taste is Elle, and the rest of the world falls away.