Chapter Text
Tara knocked on the door of Emily’s apartment with a bottle of wine tucked under her arm that cost her more than she’d care to admit. Emily Prentiss was a wine snob. No matter how much she protested that she wasn’t, she’d still scrunch her nose up at anything that cost less than a three-course meal.
Emily opened the door barefoot, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and grey hair tucked behind one ear.
“Tell me that’s red?” She reached for the bottle before Tara could answer.
“Mhmm.” Tara stepped through the door. “And it’s French.”
Emily huffed a laugh and disappeared into the kitchen. Tara followed and sat at the island, picking a grape off the board in front of her.
They drank their first glasses in the kitchen, picking at cheese, crackers and fruit while catching up about everything and nothing. Bureau politics and Rebecca’s latest case.
“How's Becs?” Emily refilled Tara’s glass.
“Brilliant. Intimidating.” She smiled as Emily topped off her own glass. “Still insists on scheduling sex if she’s on a hard case.”
Emily grinned. “I respect it.”
“Don’t.” Tara raised a finger. “She sent me a calendar invite.”
Emily choked on her wine.
“I declined it out of principle.” Tara swigged from her glass, giving Emily time to breathe.
“You could’ve at least countered with an invite to dinner first.” She shrugged.
“Emily.”
“Look, forethought can be sexy.” Emily tipped her glass towards her.
Tara rolled her eyes. “You’d know.”
“I’ve done my research.” Emily’s smile turned wicked.
“Oh, really?” She deadpanned. “You used the phrase ‘conquest’ ten minutes ago.”
Emily leant back on the stool. “I’ll have you know that I am more than just the job, Tara.”
“Oh, I know.” She shook her head as she finished her glass. “You consistently surprise me with a level of audacity that I can only aspire to.”
“Audacity?” Emily picked another grape up. “Then why do you keep turning up at my door?” She quirked a brow.
Tara laughed. “I said aspire, too. Besides, you feed me fancy cheese, outrageously expensive wine, and talk lesbian sex with me. Who else have I got?”
By the time they made it to the sofa, they’d opened their third bottle. The last two were provided by Emily and were definitely more expensive than the one Tara had bought.
“Movie?” Emily asked as she settled into the arm of the sofa.
“Your choice. Provided it’s not French again.” Tara swung her legs under her and rested her glass on the other arm of the sofa.
“Blasphemy.” Emily gasped.
“I have trauma.” Tara countered. “I don’t even speak the language and I’ve still not forgiven you for making me cry at that black-and-white one where everyone died.”
“It was beautiful.” Emily flicked through the options on the TV.
“It was two hours of despair and made me rethink multiple life choices.”
“Fine.” Emily side-eyed her as she passed the ‘Foreign Films’ section. “No subtitles.”
She carried on clicking until the ‘Musicals’ section lined up. She stopped scrolling.
Tara squinted at the screen as the movie began to play. “What’s th-” Tara’s jaw dropped open. “Wait a fucking second. You?” Tara stared at her.
“I what?” Emily raised her eyebrow.
“Chicago?” It was an octave too high for Tara to hide her disbelief.
“Problem?” Emily took another sip from her glass.
“None.” Tara said slowly. “I just didn’t have you pegged as a musical kinda girl.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She turned her eyes back to the screen and tried desperately not to laugh at Tara’s shock.
They watched in relative silence for a while. Tara found herself drawn in. She’d forgotten how sharp it was. How the dialogue snapped, the twists into the musical numbers, the outfits.
She glanced sideways and Emily was mouthing the words. Precisely.
By the time they hit ‘Cell Block Tango’ Emily was tapping her fingers against the glass and humming along. Tara watched, transported into some kind of alternate universe where Emily Prentiss seemed almost human.
“If you’re going to ask me if I know all the words, the answer is yes.” Emily said without looking away from the screen.
Tara leant back, turning slightly. “I have some serious questions.”
“When don’t you?” Emily barely glanced her way.
Then it happened. The opening notes played brassy and bold.
Emily straightened and smirked.
“Oh.” Tara breathed. “Oh no no no.”
Emily sang. She performed. She kept her voice low and rich. She rolled her shoulders, raised a brow and delivered every line with a devastating confidence only she could manage.
Tara stared. Horrified and transfixed in equal parts.
When the song came to a close, Emily raised her glass and finished it.
Tara opened her mouth and closed it again. “You admitting you get around?”
Emily didn’t miss a beat. “I’m generous with my spare time.”
“I cannot believe you.” Tara laughed, helpless and amused.
Emily refilled her glass. “I want it on record that if you bring this up at work, I will have you transferred.”
“You wouldn’t survive without me.”
“Rude.” Emily pointed her finger with a grip still on the glass.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” Tara smirked.
“You’re entirely right.” Tara smiled at that and turned back to the screen.
The BAU kitchen smelt like burnt coffee and Monday morning regrets.
Tara stood at the counter, making something that could be considered a latte if you squinted hard enough and didn’t actually drink it. It was too late for peace and too early to deal with the glittering rainbow that was Garcia.
“Good morning to my favourite lesbian profiler.” Garcia sing-songed as she slung her bag on the counter and pulled out a bottle of something mildly luminescent.
“Don’t let the Chief hear you.” Tara glanced at her watch. Seven twenty-six, much too early.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” She nudged her shoulder and placed her lunch in the fridge.
Tara took a sip of her coffee and winced. “How was your weekend?”
Garcia’s grin turned up. “Amazing, I went to a crochet afternoon. I made a friend who owns two snakes, four tarantulas and no microwave.”
“Any reason for the lack of microwave?” Tara propped herself against the counter.
“She thinks they irradiate your brain and reduce your ability to read auras.”
Tara hummed. “There is so much wrong with everything you just said.”
Garcia waved her off as if she might believe that microwaves could indeed steal the invisible rainbow. “How was yours?”
“I went to Emily’s, drank wine, ate an ungodly amount of cheese, watched a film…” Tara hesitated a fraction.
“Oh, a pause. Colour me intrigued.” Garcia leant in.
“Chicago.” Tara hid behind her mug.
Penelope Garcia did not do silence, but at half seven in the morning, when the world tilted sideways, it turns out she did.
“...Chicago.” Garcia repeated, rolling the word around in her mouth. “Very camp, very sexy, Chicago?”
“Yes.” Tara sipped her unbearable coffee again before adding another sweetener in vain.
“Section Chief Emily Elizabeth Prentiss voluntarily watched a musical?” Disbelief littered her voice.
“Yep. She picked it.” Tara nodded. “She also knew all of the words.”
Garcia clasped a hand over her chest and gasped. “No!”
“Oh yes.”
Garcia slapped a hand over her mouth. “No no no.”
“She sang.” Tara put her mug on the counter, fully prepared for Garcia to lose it.
“What?!” She squeaked.
Tara met her eyes like she held the secret to Garcia’s lost desires. “She sang, like really sang.”
“What did she sing?!” She demanded.
Tara paused and smiled. “All of them to some degree, but she properly busted out ‘When You’re Good To Mama’.”
The scream that followed echoed around the too-small kitchen. “Oh my God!” Garcia paced around the kitchen. “That’s… That’s… The stuff of fantasies!”
“It was incredibly hot.” Tara was entirely too thoughtful about it.
Garcia stopped in her tracks.
“Define ‘incredibly hot’ right now.” One finger raised dangerously close to Tara’s chest.
“Confident, low voice, knew exactly how to deliver every line, weaponised eye contact.”
“I knew it!” Garcia slapped a hand against the counter.
“You knew Emily liked Chicago?” Tara’s confusion seeped through.
“Yes. Well, no. But, yes.” Penelope’s hands flew around so quickly that she gave Jet Li a run for his money. “It tracks, is what I’m saying.”
“How? Enlighten me.” Tara folded her arms over her chest.
“She’s powerful, can shout a man down without ever opening her mouth.” Penelope held up one finger.
“She’s confident in a way that screams she’d ruin you.” A second finger joined the first.
“She’s got that whole low voice thing going on.” A third finger.
“She’s a little bit of an exhibitionist, she doesn’t mind playing up if it gets a reaction.” Four fingers were held up in front of her own face.
Her thumb joined them as she stepped closer to Tara. “The final, most damning, piece of evidence?”
Tara nodded dumbly.
“Cher.”
Tara blinked once. “Holy shit. That may be the most logical thing that’s ever come out of your mouth.”
“Mhmmm.” Garcia grinned. “Logic dictates that a little musical-loving gremlin lives inside of our Chief and protector. Now we have this information at our disposal, I can’t not do anything about it.”
“Woah.” Tara stopped her. “She threatened me, Pen. She’ll have me on desk duty or Rossi watch.”
“Nope. She won’t.” Garcia lowered her voice. “As per point three, she’s an exhibitionist, she lives for it.”
Tara tilted her head.
“Look, this information won’t live quietly inside of my head.” Garcia shrugged. “Besides, I think we might be able to use it as a… tool.” Garcia’s eyes gleamed.
“What are you planning?” Tara was already mentally accepting her transfer.
“We, my darling, we are planning a way to finally get those two clueless, yearning, lesbians to finally fall into bed.” Tara’s eyes widened as her brain began to click into gear and follow Garcia’s line of thought.
“Oh. Oh.” The words fell out of Tara’s mouth.
“Oh, indeed.” Garcia’s eyes were wild. “If Emily Prentiss can sing and perform, and if our dear, sweet, confused Jennifer Jareau were to witness it…”
Tara filled in the blanks. “She’d implode.” She nodded once. “Honestly, if the little preview she gave me made me go places I’d never gone before, then...” Tara blew out a breath.
“Exactly.” Garcia bounced on the balls of her feet. “She’d combust into starlight, ascend in ways we can only dream of, she’d leave a scorch mark on the floor and we may have to peel her off the ceiling. Or Emily.”
Tara picked up her mug, finishing the rest of the bitter coffee. “You’re assuming we can get Emily to sing, in public.”
Garcia’s smile was dangerous. “We set a trap. Drag and karaoke bar. Call it a girls’ night, make it mandatory. Add in peer pressure, and alcohol, and I think we’ll pull it off.”
“You’re evil.” Tara’s smile matched Garcia’s. “I love it.”
The text hit the group chat the following day at lunch. The BAU slipped into the briefly slowed down haze, but Garcia’s brain had not.
Garcia: 💃✨GIRLS NIGHT✨💃Friday 7pm. La Vida. Attendance is mandatory 💀
Emily read the message, exhaled, then typed.
Emily: That’s a drag and karaoke bar.
Tara answered from her desk.
Tara: Excellent deduction, Sherlock.
Emily: I hate public humiliation.
JJ: Bold stance from a woman I have seen dance on multiple tables.
Emily: That’s different.
JJ smirked at her screen.
JJ: How?
Emily: I was young, dumb, and drunk.
JJ: The last time you did it was only a few years ago.
Emily: Exactly, I’ve matured, I’m grey now.
Garcia: ANYWAY!!!!! Wear something cute. Or hot. Or both. See you Friday 💖
JJ read Garcia’s message, then switched to a different thread.
JJ: You actually going?x
Emily stared at her screen, thumbs hovering like she was negotiating.
Emily: I will if you are x
JJ smiled down at her phone while Emily watched from her office.
JJ: I’ll be there, wouldn’t want to miss your next coyote ugly moment x
Emily replied almost immediately.
Emily: Then I better raid my wardrobe for something hot x
JJ glanced up to Emily’s office and caught her eye, a small smirk playing across her face. She tapped on her screen and Emily’s phone buzzed in her hand.
JJ: Like that’s hard x
Emily blinked at her phone. This had become a much more regular occurrence, but it still made her stomach flip. She looked back down to the bullpen and was met by blue eyes who were clearly waiting for her.
JJ winked and Emily’s breath hitched.
She was in trouble.
Garcia had spent most of the week spinning in her chair and plotting. By Thursday, she’d become insufferably impatient, even by her own standards. Time, she mused, moved quicker for no one. So, instead of waiting for fate, she’d been reduced to office espionage.
Office espionage was a perfectly valid use of resources when there wasn’t an active case.
She was half hidden behind a wall, peering into the bullpen like David Attenborough observing a rare mating ritual.
Emily Prentiss, Section Chief of the BAU, Emotional Nightmare, Unpredictable Fortress, was perched on JJ’s desk.
Perched, not hovering. Very important distinction.
Emily’s body was angled towards JJ, casual, legs slightly spread to take up the space that JJ was clearly welcoming her into.
This was not Section Chief Emily Prentiss at work. This was off-the-clock Emily, wine-and-charcuterie Emily, secret-musical-lover Emily.
It was not professional behaviour, but it was wholly supported.
JJ leant back in her chair. From where Garcia stood, it looked like one foot might’ve been somewhere between Emily’s legs but she couldn’t be sure.
What she was sure of was JJ’s posture. Her body was open.
Noted.
They were talking. She couldn’t hear the conversation. Their voices were lower than they usually were when talking about a case. The low kind of tone that people use when people pretend they aren’t flirting.
Then JJ laughed. Properly, impolitely, like they weren’t at work at all. Her head tipped back, throat exposed.
Then her hand lifted and landed… on Emily’s thigh.
Full contact, palm open, higher than her knee, higher than mid thigh.
Garcia inhaled sharply through her nose. She swallowed the squeal.
Delicious.
Emily looked down and said something else. There was a pause in JJ’s reaction, a slight lean towards Emily.
A lift of her eyebrow.
Oh.
A look. The look. The one that says ‘did you really just say that’ and ‘I will climb you like a tree’ in the same breath.
Jennifer Jareau was not backing down.
Wait. Was JJ leading this?!
Garcia raised a hand to her chest.
Emily smiled. One she didn’t wear often, one Garcia recognised as belonging to JJ and JJ alone.
Emily covered JJ’s hand with her own as she stood. She hovered over JJ for just a second. JJ’s head tilted up, her lips parting just slightly and Garcia saw it.
Anticipation.
And possibly two idiots who were finally catching up to what the rest of them had known forever.
Emily said something else. JJ blushed. Emily stepped away from the desk.
Reluctance.
She eventually let go of JJ’s hand as she headed back to her office.
Garcia waited exactly three seconds more than she thought she would after Emily’s door closed before she swept in.
“Excuse me, Agent Jareau.” She perched exactly where Emily had been. The desk was still warm, so it clearly wasn’t a flying visit. “Did you just try to out eyebrow Emily Prentiss?”
JJ blinked. “Huh?”
Garcia leant in dramatically. “You heard me. You tried to out eyebrow her. You were flirting.”
JJ rolled her eyes. “Are you spying on me?”
She didn’t deny flirting. Interesting. “What I do with my time doesn’t matter. What you’re doing with yours does. Why was your hand on her thigh?”
JJ froze. “It wasn’t, was it?” It was. She knew it was. She could still feel the heat of it in her palm, the way Emily tensed under the touch and then shifted further into it.
Garcia side-eyed her with devastating effect. “It was. Fairly high up. Somewhere between here…” She placed one hand on her own thigh. “And here.” She placed the other, framing the space on her own body.
JJ shrugged, swallowed. “I didn’t notice.”
“Lies.” Garcia gasped.
JJ sighed, already aware she’d been caught. “Pen, please.”
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head. “What did she say that was so funny?”
JJ paused. “I uh- I can’t remember.”
Garcia sat back, triumphant. “Exactly, which means it probably wasn’t even funny. Which means… you were flirting.”
JJ rubbed a hand over her face. “This is harassment.”
“It’s me filling my time with the people I love. From afar. When they’re unaware. Sometimes.” She shrugged.
JJ could only hope that today was the first time Garcia had been spying.
That she hadn’t caught the way Emily had pressed her into the BAU kitchen counter while reaching for a mug last week. How she’d lingered too long, both of them ignoring the fact that there was space either side of JJ. That Penelope hadn’t seen the way her knuckles had whitened when the length of Emily’s body pressed into her and she could feel her breath on her neck.
That she hadn’t heard JJ call Emily “Chief” with a tone that was entirely unprofessional. That she hadn’t seen the way Emily had tilted her head and bit her bottom lip in return.
That she hadn’t been peering over her shoulder or hacking her phone when the texts between them became more frequent, came later in the night, toed the line that neither of them remembered drawing.
Garcia didn’t tell her that she knew about the almost kiss in her kitchen at the last girls night. How she walked in to see Emily against the fridge, JJ’s hands on her waist. How Emily brushed a strand of hair from JJ’s face as they stared at each other’s mouths.
Garcia didn’t tell her that she saw them almost lean in before pulling apart. Or that she told Tara. Or that they’d been plotting long before that.
Garcia didn’t tell her about the girls nights before that. How both she and Tara would have bets on who would reach for the other first, how JJ would always end up under Emily’s arm somehow. How they’d both noticed the way Emily’s eyes stayed shut whenever JJ would whisper something in her ear.
Garcia didn’t need a confession, she just needed JJ to see it. The touches that lasted too long. The glances that ignored everyone else in the room. The pauses to see if the other was following.
Garcia narrowed her eyes. “Level with me.”
JJ startled, pulled from her own head. “Hmm?”
“Do you think Emily’s hot?” Garcia studied her.
“What?” She choked, trying to buy herself some time.
“Objectively. Do you think Emily’s hot?” Garcia kept her voice as even as possible.
JJ said nothing, she gawped like a fish. The answer was yes, but answering yes would be likely to cause a noise that JJ wasn’t prepared for.
“You must do.” Garcia nodded to herself, filling in the blanks. “You used to have a crush on her. You clearly still do.”
“I don’t have a crush.” JJ sat back in her chair, arms folding over her chest.
“You’re human. I have a crush on her. Luke has a crush on her. Everyone I know has a crush on her.” Garcia stared at her.
The thought of anyone having a crush on Emily made something in JJ’s gut twist. JJ sighed, resigned herself to the line of enquiry and hoped she could get out of it without any lasting damage. “Fine. Objectively, she’s hot.”
“Do you find her more attractive now?” Garcia smiled and tilted her head.
JJ paused, weighing up her words. “It’s different now.”
Garcia took that as a win, a small confirmation that JJ was indeed aware of the fact that Emily Prentiss was essentially sex on legs. With a heart. And a brain. And many other wonderful qualities. Because we don’t objectify women.
“So go for it.” Garcia shrugged.
She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world to walk into Emily’s office and profess her love for her.
Love.
She was about to spiral when her phone buzzed on her desk.
Emily: Want me to banish her back to her lair?x
JJ read it, smirked and looked up at Emily’s office.
JJ: Might need a firm hand x
Garcia gasped. “Is she texting you right now?!” Her head swung between JJ and Emily’s office. The smirk on Emily’s face and the fact her eyes were locked on them only confirmed it.
JJ didn’t deny it.
“Well, don’t let me interrupt.” Garcia stood and made herself scarce. Well, as scarce as she had been earlier, resuming her position behind the wall.
Emily leant back in her chair. She was half-amused and very impressed. “Jesus, Jareau.” She muttered.
She debated the next message and pressed send anyway.
Emily: You or her?x
JJ looked up, a slight blush in her cheeks before typing out a response.
JJ: I don’t think she could handle it x
It was the closest thing she could say without being entirely honest.
Emily: You saying you can?x
JJ read Emily’s message three times. JJ had a choice. She chose honesty.
JJ: I know I can x
Bold.
Emily sat stock still in her chair. She blinked at the screen as if the words would morph into something else. Not another blatant admission or invitation. Emily toyed with pushing it further but the fact she’d have to sit in her office all day and try and avoid thoughts of JJ made her rethink it.
Emily: Noted x
Weak.
JJ read it and smiled to herself, Emily had backed down this time. She was evening the scoreboard rapidly. With renewed confidence, she tapped out a response.
JJ: Thank you, Chief x
Emily audibly groaned, grateful that her door was closed. She tipped her head back to the ceiling for a second.
JJ watched on, relishing the way Emily was quickly coming apart with just a title.
Emily debated just locking her phone. Despite the fact that her mind was currently working JJ into various states of undress that she’d pay for all day, she was enjoying it, and clearly JJ was too.
Emily: That’s not fair x
JJ spun slightly in her chair before looking back down at her phone as it buzzed in her hand. She grinned and huffed a laugh.
JJ: I don’t play fair x
JJ looked up and Emily was already watching her. Emily laughed under her breath, eyes dark, smile dangerous.
When Garcia got back to her lair, it took everything in her not to hack JJ’s phone immediately. She had to trust what she’d seen.
But, first, she needed to debrief Tara.
Garcia: 📢 CODE GREEN! 📢 WE ARE A GO!!!!! 💚 Desk sitting. Thigh touching. Eyebrow raises and flirty texting. I am ✨ SO ✨ ready for tomorrow 💃