Emily Prentiss One-Shots

Emily/JJ

Title: of cigarettes and cellphones -sunshineandguns (Ao3)

Summary: A few more drinks, and Emily would have an arm slung around her, and JJ would blame the way the hairs on the back of her neck pricked at the sensation of it on the alcohol, a distinction that she was already drunk enough to accept as truth.

Or, Derek crashes Girls' Night, and JJ tries to figure out what it is she wants.

Rating: Mature

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At some point, she'd lost track of how many drinks had made their way into the spot in front of her. Empty glasses had begun to pile up, and the line between which were hers and which weren't had become fuzzy.

That wasn't unusual for nights like these. It was the company that was altered; instead of Penelope sitting across from them with a dopey expression and smudged glitter around her eyes, it was Morgan, who certainly handled his liquor better than the rest of them. There was a look of bewildered amusement etched into the lines of his face, as he listened to Emily rant passionately about some book neither of them had read. At least that was a constant - the warm body squeezed into the space beside her, sitting a little too close but at the same time not quite close enough. A few more drinks, and Emily would have an arm slung around her, and JJ would blame the way the hairs on the back of her neck pricked at the sensation of it on the alcohol, a distinction that she was already drunk enough to accept as truth. As it was, her skin practically vibrated with the anticipation of it, though she pretended not to be affected, turning her head a half inch so she could gaze at the animated expression on Emily's face whilst still keeping Derek in her peripheral. His eyebrow raised at the movement, but she ignored it. Perhaps she ought to have reigned in her behaviour, knowing there was a profiler in their midsts, and a more sober one at that, rather than Penelope who was generally pretty clueless, never mind after a few cosmopolitans. A sober JJ might have chosen to have more tact.

"Okay I'm starting to see why PG dipped out on you - a night with Kevin is beginning to look real good right about now," Derek teased, as soon as he was able to get a word in edgeways.

Emily's face drooped into an expression that could only be described as "someone kicked my puppy", and Derek laughed, reaching across the table to forcibly poke her cheeks back into a smile.

"No, really, though. This how you girls get down to it normally? I've been out here waiting for an invitation all this time, for what? To hear Prentiss talk Dostoyevsky?"

"Bulgakov," Emily corrected, pointing a finger at him warningly.

"Come on, I can hear that any time."

Shrugging her shoulders, JJ twirled her straw through the remains of some kind of fruity cocktail, "it usually involves at least one of us getting hit on multiple times. I guess you're scaring off the competition."

Emily pulled a face at that. It wasn't a secret that, as the only single one of the three girls, she loathed the attention they got on nights out more than anyone. Sure, it was fun to play around a bit, to string a guy along by playing the bimbo, then turn it back on him in the last innings, but it was irritating too. Emily had made it abundantly clear that she wasn't interested in dating anyone, at least not for the moment. And for some reason, JJ had started to find the near constant stream of men grappling for Emily's attention increasingly maddening. If anything, she was grateful for Derek's presence, the way he lazily had his arms stretched out along the back of the booth seat, his back to the bustling bar, keeping himself between them and potential bachelors. He was fiercely loyal like that. Or at least, he could be. JJ wasn't naive enough to think he wouldn't turn on a dime if the right kind of attention came his way - in fact, it was unusual for him to not be on the look out for a "honey" of his own. Maybe he had been genuine when he said he just wanted to be included in girls' night, and that it wasn't an opportunity for him to find a hook up.