Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

JJ was nervous. Not the kind of nerves she felt before a press conference or in the field. This was different — softer, fluttery, but no less intense.

She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down her dress for the fifth time, her hands trembling. It wasn’t even a fancy dress. Just a dark navy number with a cinched waist and a slightly plunging neckline. Something easy. But it felt like everything.

Because tonight wasn’t just a dinner.

Tonight was a date.

With Emily.

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Emily, who had been quietly in love with her for years. Emily, who’d held her hand through confusion and tears, who’d kissed her that night in her apartment, whispering that she didn’t need to have all the answers right away. That she’d wait as long as it took.

That was two weeks ago.

JJ had barely slept since.

Not because of anxiety — but because she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Or how it felt to wake up tangled in Emily’s arms, like her skin finally recognized something it had longed for but never known.

Tonight, she wanted to try. Really try. For them.

⸻

Emily opened the door in dark jeans and a black button-down that hugged her just right, sleeves rolled, collar slightly open. Casual, but confident. She smiled the second she saw JJ.

“Wow,” she said, eyes wide, drinking her in. “You look…”

JJ smiled shyly. “You clean up nice yourself.”

Emily laughed, stepping aside to let her in. “I figured I’d cook. You okay with staying in for our first date?”

JJ nodded. “More than okay.”

⸻

The apartment smelled like garlic and rosemary, and soft jazz played low in the background. Candles flickered on the table, and a single daisy sat in a glass next to two wine glasses.

JJ glanced around. “You did all this?”

Emily shrugged, a little bashful. “Wanted it to feel like something special.”

JJ’s voice was soft. “It is.”

⸻

Dinner was perfect — roasted chicken, lemony pasta, a fresh salad Emily said she tried to make “like Garcia does,” though she admitted to skipping half the ingredients. They talked about everything and nothing: childhood stories, books they were reading, the latest nonsense from Reid.

But there was an undercurrent. A quiet pull between them, a magnetic closeness that settled in every time their knees brushed under the table or their eyes lingered too long.

After dinner, Emily poured another glass of wine and nudged the couch with her chin. “Want to sit?”

JJ followed her, tucking her legs under her as she sank into the cushions. Emily sat close, their thighs touching, arms barely brushing.

JJ looked at her, really looked at her.

Her voice trembled just slightly. “You make this feel so easy.”

Emily turned to face her. “It’s not always easy. I just… want you to feel safe.”

“I do,” JJ said. “More than I ever expected.”

A quiet beat passed between them.

Then JJ reached out, fingers brushing the collar of Emily’s shirt. “Can I kiss you?”

Emily smiled. “Please.”

⸻

This kiss was different from the first.

Slower. Surer.

JJ shifted, pulling Emily closer, her hand sliding around the back of her neck. Emily kissed her like she’d been waiting a lifetime — deep, patient, reverent.

JJ let herself sink into it, her fears melting away as their mouths moved together in a rhythm that felt achingly right.

Her fingers found the buttons of Emily’s shirt and paused. Emily pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

“We don’t have to,” she whispered.

“I want to,” JJ replied. “I’ve never wanted anything like this before.”

Emily searched her face, saw the truth there, and gently placed a kiss on JJ’s cheek.

“Then let’s go slow.”

⸻

They moved to the bedroom in quiet reverence, lit only by the city lights outside the windows. JJ’s hands trembled as she undid the final button of Emily’s shirt. She trailed her fingers over the smooth lines of her collarbone, then leaned in, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Emily touched her face, holding her like something delicate and precious.

JJ’s dress slipped to the floor with a whisper, pooling at her feet. She stood there in nothing but soft lace and bare honesty, vulnerable and strong.

Emily’s voice was rough with emotion. “You’re beautiful.”

JJ stepped into her arms. “Then show me.”

⸻

They made love with quiet care, slow touches, and soft gasps that filled the space like music. JJ explored Emily’s body like a map, tracing every scar, every freckle, every piece of history she’d been too scared to see before.

She kissed the hollow of her throat, the curve of her waist, the space behind her knee, and Emily kissed her in return like worship — like home.

Their bodies fit together like a secret long kept, a truth finally spoken aloud.

When JJ came undone in Emily’s arms, it wasn’t just physical — it was emotional. Cathartic. Like shedding years of pretending.

⸻

Later, they lay tangled in sheets, legs intertwined, sweat cooling on their skin.

JJ rested her head on Emily’s chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this,” she whispered.

Emily kissed her hair. “Like what?”

JJ tilted her head to look up at her. “Like I finally belong somewhere. Like… I’ve spent my whole life loving the wrong shape of love.”

Emily brushed her fingers along JJ’s back. “You weren’t wrong. You were just… waiting.”

JJ smiled softly. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

⸻

JJ stayed the night, curled into Emily’s arms. She woke once, briefly, blinking against the early light filtering through the blinds.

Emily stirred beside her.

“You okay?” she murmured sleepily.

JJ nodded and whispered, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Emily smiled without opening her eyes. “I think you already have.”

⸻

The End.

Let me know if you’d like a sequel that dives into telling the team, Henry’s reaction, or even something fluffy like a weekend getaway or lazy Sunday morning. 💙

Chapter Text

Henry was sprawled on the living room floor, coloring a picture of Pikachu wearing sunglasses, when JJ sat down beside him on the couch, heart fluttering with a familiar cocktail of nerves and joy.

She’d been dreading this moment for days—not because she thought he’d be upset, but because Henry mattered more to her than anyone in the world. And this was big.

“Hey, bud,” she said, nudging his leg with her foot.

Henry glanced up with a big, toothy grin. “Hey, Mom! Look what I drew!”

JJ smiled, genuinely, even through her nerves. “That’s amazing. Pikachu looks like he’s ready for summer.”

“He is,” Henry said matter-of-factly. “He’s at the beach with his girlfriend.” He looked up at her again. “Did you want something?”

JJ reached down and smoothed a piece of hair from his forehead. “I did. I wanted to talk to you about something kind of important.”

Henry sat up straighter, attentive now.

JJ hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You know how sometimes people fall in love, like how Aunt Penelope always talks about fairy tales and kissing frogs?”

Henry giggled. “Yeah. Gross.”

JJ laughed. “Well, sometimes love doesn’t look like what you expect. And that’s okay. Actually… it’s kind of beautiful.”

Henry blinked at her, wide-eyed.

She went on gently. “There’s someone I care about. A lot. Her name is Emily. You know her—Aunt Emily?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, thinking. “She helped me build a robot with Legos once. She’s cool.”

“She is cool,” JJ said, smiling warmly. “And… she’s also someone I’m dating. We’ve been spending time together, and… I really like her. A lot.”

There was a pause. JJ’s heart pounded.

Then Henry tilted his head. “So, like… you’re girlfriends?”

JJ held her breath. “Yeah. Is that okay with you?”

Henry furrowed his brow, deep in seven-year-old thought. Then: “Does that mean she’ll come to movie night?”

JJ blinked. “If you want her to.”

Henry grinned. “Okay. But only if she brings popcorn. And she has to let me pick the movie at least once.”

JJ laughed, pulling him into a tight hug, her heart full and light. “Deal.”

⸻

The next hurdle came four days later: a team dinner at Rossi’s house.

“Are you sure?” JJ whispered to Emily outside the massive wooden door.

Emily gently took her hand. “Only if you are.”

JJ swallowed. “I want them to know. I want this to be real.”

Emily smiled, soft and sure. “Then let’s go in.”

Inside, Rossi’s home was already buzzing—Garcia in a bright orange sundress mixing drinks, Luke flipping something on the grill, Tara and Reid arguing over the best Star Trek captain. It felt like home.

JJ and Emily walked in side by side, fingers just brushing, and Garcia spotted them first.

“Ladies!” she beamed. Then her eyes narrowed slightly. “Wait a minute…”

Rossi turned from the bar, glass of Chianti in hand. “You’re late, Jareau. And Prentiss, you usually bring wine.”

JJ opened her mouth, but Garcia interrupted, stepping forward like she was about to pounce. “Oh. My. God.”

Emily blinked. “What?”

Garcia pointed a dramatic finger. “You’re holding hands.”

JJ blushed instantly, and Emily gave a soft chuckle. “Subtle as ever, Penelope.”

“Oh my GOD,” Garcia said again, launching herself into JJ’s arms, then Emily’s. “This is the best timeline.”

Rossi raised an eyebrow but smiled, clearly not surprised. Reid tilted his head and muttered, “I had a hypothesis about this based on proximity patterns and emotional dynamics over the past year.”

Luke just grinned. “About damn time.”

JJ felt warmth bloom in her chest. Her family didn’t even blink. Just welcomed it in stride, like they’d all known long before she did.

Later, as they sat under twinkle lights in Rossi’s backyard passing bowls of pasta and slices of garlic bread, Henry sat between Garcia and Emily, chatting about his upcoming science fair.

He leaned toward Emily mid-bite and whispered loud enough for the table to hear: “You can come to movie night. But you have to like Pokémon.”

Emily leaned closer. “Only if you let me root for Charizard.”

Henry gasped. “Deal.”

JJ caught the moment—Emily’s hand brushing Henry’s back, her laugh light, easy—and felt a full-body calm settle in. Like the air finally matched the rhythm of her heart.

Garcia raised a glass. “To family. All shapes, all stories.”

And JJ smiled, reaching for Emily’s hand beneath the table. “To love,” she said quietly.

Emily squeezed back. “The right shape of it.”

⸻

Let me know if you want a part three — maybe something angstier, like media fallout or a case that tests them? This was so cute to write! I love Emily and Henry 🥹