Chapter Text
I push the door open with my shoulder, the drink carrier tipping slightly in my hand as the smell of expresso and warm breakfast sandwiches hits me. My keys jingle as I drop them onto the foyer table along with my purse, exhaling as I toe off my shoes.
I can hear the soft thud of drawers opening and closing as I head upstairs. I pause in the bedroom doorway, JJ's back is to me, her hair falling forward as she folds a sweater with focused neatness.
The open suitcase lies stretched across the duvet, half-packed with perfectly arranged layers. She glances back, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small smile when she sees me.
"Hey, baby," JJ says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can get on the road in a few hours. I just need to stop by Garcia's first—she's insisting we take some kind of 'special road trip survival kit.'" She rolls her eyes fondly. "And I want to call Will, confirm when he and the boys are leaving the safe house. Make sure they call once they're heading back."
I walk toward her—handing over her favorite coffee—venti iced double expresso, soy milk, extra vanilla—and she immediately takes a sip with a grateful hum, kissing me quickly before turning back to the suitcase.
I watch her for just a second, how easy she makes it look. How ready she seems to just...move forward. Maybe that's what's unnerving me.
I set the food down and my remaining drink on the dresser, and my fingers slip into the front pockets of my pants.
I clear my throat. "You sure this is a good idea? Going away right now?"
JJ stops mid-fold, her hands holding onto one of my flannels. She turns her head slightly, brow furrowing in that way that tells me she hears more in the question than just the words.
"Why wouldn't it be?" She asks, not confrontational, just careful. "Is this about work? Because I thought the whole point was to take time off before you're cleared."
I nod slowly. "It's just...it's only been two days."
I don't mean for it to sound like an excuse, but it definitely sounds like one regardless.
She brushes her hand along my arm before her fingers slip into mine. "Which is exactly why we need this," she says softly. "You need this." Her voice lowers as she adds. "It's just us. And I want time with you to reconnect before everything gets crazy again."
"I want to reconnect with you too," I say lovingly.
JJ wraps her arms around me slowly, pulling me in until we're flush together. She tilts her head up and presses a kiss just beneath my jaw.
"Picture this," she murmurs softly. "Alone in a cabin for three days, no cases, no kids. Just you," she punctuates with a kiss to my lips. "And me," she mumbles sweetly against them.
I close my eyes. Letting the image play out in my mind. Still, a part of me resists—brain buzzing with all the things that have happened to us.
That have yet to be talked about or revisited.
But then JJ leans in closer, breath ghosting the shell of my ear. "And if that's not enough," she whispers, "we could spend all three days just fucking."
My jaw tightens reflexively as she places another kiss this time to the curve of my neck, tender, not so playful. Her intent suddenly deeper.
I rasp out a half-laugh, shaking my head slightly. "I might not be up to your standards right now," I admit, regret evident in my voice and in the way I look down at her.
JJ pulls back just far enough to meet my eyes, her expression impossibly soft and understanding. "I don't mind doing all the work," she murmurs hotly and then kisses me firmly once, and then two more times before letting go.
"Yeah, that, uh..." I stammer, and the heat crawling up my neck confirms how much I'm turned on right now.
I try to hide it by rubbing the back of my neck, retreating into the closet under the guise of needing my suitcase. JJ's soft chuckle follows me, playful and smug, and I can still feel her breath on my skin.
When I return, rolling the bag behind me and setting it on my side of the bed, JJ glances up from her carefully folded pile of clothes—one of my old university sweatshirts peaking out from under it.
"How'd your session go?" She asks, her voice casual, but I hear the quiet care too.
I unzip the suitcase, focus shifting to the empty interior. "It was fine," I say.
It's cryptic, vague on purpose, and we both know it.
My head stays low as I walk over to the dresser to grab a few essentials. I can feel her eyes following me as I move around the room.
"You only have to go to three," she reminds me quietly.
I sense she wants to ask if I'm okay, if I'll talk about it, if there's more than what I'm letting on—but she doesn't.
And I'm glad.
But I nod, keeping my voice even. "Yeah. I know."
JJ zips up one of the side pockets on her suitcase and tells me, "Make sure you pack a bathing suit."
I glance at her as I'm pulling a few things out of my nightstand drawer—extra chargers, pain meds, the harness and dildo.
"The weather hasn't been exactly hot," I say stuffing everything into my suitcase without looking.
She shrugs. "I know. But the cabin has a jacuzzi."
JJ wiggles her eyebrows at me, grinning in that playful way that makes it impossible not to smirk.
"What, did you book couples massages, too?" I tease, snorting as I shut the nightstand drawer.
When she doesn't respond right away, I look at her again. JJ's biting back a laugh, her mouth curved into a smile that's just shy of guilty.
"They didn't have any slots left," she admits with a mock-pout. "Sad I know." Then she straightens, folding another one of my sweatshirts and tossing it into her bag. "But I'll give you one myself—on one condition."
I raise a brow.
"That you turn off your phone. Completely unplug," she says, voice softener now. "No work. No distractions."
I nod slowly, taking her in, then reach across the bed and lace our fingers together. "Deal," I say. And I mean it.
JJ unwraps her sandwich and says around a bite, "Michael sent the cutest video this morning. Said he made us something for when we get back." Her eyes flick to me, soft and proud.
I smile faintly, heart fluttering knowing he's thinking of me too.
Even after...
"Yeah? He say what it is?" I ask quietly.
"Nope. Just that it was a surprise," she answers, zipping her bag up and setting it gently on the floor by the door. Then her voice shifts, more intentional. "I think while we're away, we should talk about the plan. What things are going to look like...after."
I nod, not looking at her as I roll a pair of jeans and stuff them into a corner of my suitcase. "You mean, like...a five-year plan? With shared calendars and joint bank accounts? Staging interventions for when Michael smuggles more animals into the house?" The joke is lame, but it earns me a genuine laugh from her all the same.
I feel the knot in my chest easing just a little. It's still hard, talking about the future like it's real. Like I deserve it.
JJ crosses the room over to me. "I mean all of it," she says. "Whatever we want it to look like."
She lifts the corner of her sandwich in offering, and I lean in to take a bite. Before I can fully chew it, she kisses me, quick and affectionate.
The past couple of days, she hasn't kept much distance at all—always touching, kissing, needing the reassurance that I'm here. I've caught her staring at me when I wake up, smiling at me sheepishly. I don't blame her. I've done the same.
She's made it clear though, that this trip means more than just rest and decompressing. She wants sex—sure—she's not shy about that. I want it to. But she also wants more. She wants closeness and answers.
The kind of intimacy that comes from facing everything we haven't said yet. Everything I've ran away from. She wants confirmation that she's not wasting her time.
And for once—I want to make sure she doesn't feel that way again.
~~~
JJ insisted on driving. Claiming she wanted me to relax—but really, it was a stern look from her that had me sliding into the passenger seat anyway.
I reach for the ridiculous "survival kit" Garcia had packed for us, the pastel pink basket nestled between my legs. Lifting the tissue paper revealed: two adult coloring books, lavender oil, a mini diffuser, essential oils labeled "Calm Your Shit" and "Zen AF," and then some vibrating feather thing tied with a satin ribbon.
I held up the feather, turning to JJ. "What exactly is this for?"
She bursts out laughing. "Garcia didn't explain how to use anything. She just said to read the card."
I find the card tucked into the basket's corner and open it.
"To my gorgeous girlies, this is your official permission slip to unwind. No work talk, no phones, just endless orgasms and Mother Nature herself. Oh, and if you use the feather tickler, aim low. Don't want to send anyone to the emergency room. And if the cabin's haunted, don't invite the ghosts to join you unless they're hot," I finish reading with a grumble. "She's disturbingly unhinged."
JJ laughs, sipping her coffee. "She's also super sweet."
"It's a nice balance," I say deadpanned.
"That's not it by the way," JJ adds, smirking. "She also packed us a lovely charcuterie board with wine. It's in the back."
I take a slow sip from my own cup and nod. "Now that's something I can get behind."
JJ grins. "So you're not into whimsical sensory play and stress-reducing crafts? Who are you?" Her voice is teasing, flirtatious.
I turn my head toward her, voice low. "I don't need a feather to make you squirm."
JJ chokes on her coffee, cheeks tinting pink as she sputters, "You can't say things like that when I'm driving."
I laugh, reaching over to hold her hand across the console. She starts telling me about some trail that cuts behind the cabin, supposedly really scenic, and says she wants us to check it out—maybe after we settle in.
Then my phone buzzes.
I fish it out of my coat pocket, glancing at the screen without fully unlocking it.
Addison.
My smile fades as quickly as it came.
Addison: I really need you to sign the documents I sent you to extend your evaluation.
My jaw tightens visibly. One of a few messages she's already sent this morning after my session.
And all of them I've ignored.
Before I can put my phone away, another message pops up.
Addison: Can we meet up once you're back? Lunch?
JJ swipes my phone out of my hand causing my heart to beat erratically.
"Hey—" I start, but JJ barely glances at the screen before placing it calmly in the side pocket of her door.
"I really don't want work to get between us while we're here, baby," she says, squeezing my hand. "If it's urgent, Madison can handle it."
I manage a smile, grateful and guilty all at once. "You're right," I say simply.
And she hums like she knew that already.
The rest of the drive is easy. We sip our coffee, laugh, windows cracked to let the cool air in. At one point, JJ starts singing—off-key and dramatic to some Taylor Swift song. I roll my eyes playfully and turn up the radio just a bit.
No sooner do we pull up into the gravel lot of the check-in lodge. The sky is already a hazy orange, bleeding over the treetops. Guests mill around outside, mostly couples, chatting or stretching their legs after long drives. A family corralling kids out of a minivan.
A security officer stands at the entrance, nodding politely at each arrival. I get out of the car, basket in one hand, my shoulders tense as I limp toward the back where JJ's already grabbing our bags.
I hadn't asked too many questions about the getaway when she booked it. Maybe because I wanted to trust her, or maybe because I knew I didn't have the energy to weigh the pros and cons of letting myself relax. But I can't help the quiet alarm bells going off in my head.
"It's...remote," I mutter, more to myself than to her.
I glance around again, mentally mapping exits, line of sight, blind spots. My concern must show in the tight line of my mouth or the way my eyes don't stop moving. JJ pauses, halfway through closing the trunk and looks at me with a sad smile.
"It's safe, Em," she reassures gently, finally closing it shut. "I made sure of it."
"I'm sorry," I say, bending down to pull up the handle on my suitcase.
I'm not really sure what I'm apologizing for. Probably all of it. Probably nothing.
"Come on," she says sweetly, kissing my cheek.
JJ guides me inside with a hand on my lower back. A welcome sign is carved boldly under a dear head on the wall, and I can smell the faint scent of pine air freshener.
Behind the counter stands a man, maybe in his early thirties, full beard, kind brown eyes, broad build—definitely the type all the locals know by name.
"Hey there," he greets us, voice smooth. "What can I do for you ladies?"
JJ steps up with that practiced charm that always seems to win everyone over, offering her hand with a wide, easy smile.
"Jennifer Jareau. We spoke on the phone this morning," she greets.
His face lights up instantly. "Right, of course. I'm Jackson. Good to see you in person," he says taking her hand. He turns to me next, offering a handshake. "And you must be the girlfriend."
I shake his hand with a polite smile. "Emily."
Jackson continues chatting, apologizing for the limited accommodations in our package but saying he can swing a comp on a couples' wine tasting or a canoe rental if we're into that sort of thing. He types away on the computer, confirming our reservation and handing us the keys with a brochure.
"Just a heads up," he adds casually, leaning against the counter, "if you plan on hiking, be back before seven. We've had a few...incidents. Wildlife. And, uh—some guests who like to get a little too friendly with each other out there."
His grin is sly, and JJ chuckles nervously, shooting me a side glance as he continues explaining the cabin is stocked with basics and the trail store has anything we might be missing.
"Breakfast's served at six sharp, but it fills up fast so you're more than welcome to take it back to your rooms. House keeping will be sure to take it for you." He hands JJ the activity list, and she thanks him sweetly.
As we walk toward the door, his eyes linger—not subtly —on JJ's backside. She reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together as we step outside into the cooling dusk.
"I think Jackson's a little in love with you," I murmur dryly, resisting the urge to glance back at the glass door.
JJ laughs, leaning into me. "You should've heard the flirting I had to endure just to get this place booked last-minute."
I grin, leaning in close. I press a soft kiss to her ear, lips brushing her skin just enough to make her hum.
"Well," I whisper, "whatever it took...I appreciate you." My teeth graze the curve of her ear, and I see her smile before I pull away.
JJ squeezes my hand in response, and we start up the path toward our cabin. When we get onto the small porch, she unlocks the door and we step inside. Immediately, we're greeted by the cozy scent of cedar and something sweet—cinnamon.
The cabin is quaint and warm, clearly designed with couples in mind. There's a stone fireplace already stocked with wood, a flatscreen TV sitting right above, a plush cream-colored rug in front of a low-set couch with knitted throw blankets folded neatly on the armrests.
The kitchen is compact but well-kept, with matte appliances and a small coffee station complete with sugar packets, tiny syrup bottles, and two mismatched mugs that read "Caffeine is my love language." The woodsy decor gives the whole space a charming kind of intimacy—exposed beams overhead, forest-themed art prints, and a carved wooden sign above the mantel that says "Wander Often, Love Always."
I glance around with a smirk, leaving my suitcase by the door and placing Garcia's gift basket on the nearest table.
"A lot of wood in here," I say jokingly, nodding to the furniture. "I guess if we run out of firewood, we've got other options."
JJ laughs, biting her bottom lip adorably as she opens the fridge and slides in the charcuterie board. Her expression makes me blush—ridiculously—and I turn away quickly, pretending to check the lock on the front door as an excuse.
While she's still in the kitchen, I move around the cabin, not even trying to hide the fact that I'm taking stock. My eyes trail the corners, the windows, the ceiling. I push the bedroom door open and flick on the light.
The master bedroom is just as inviting as the main room—a large bed with white linen sheets, layered throws, and a small back porch that overlooks the woods. I move into the bathroom, flipping on that light, too. I press my finger against the mirror for a second, testing. Just to be sure.
"We can settle in real quick, then go for that trail walk?" JJ calls from the front.
"Yeah," I answer, distracted. "That sounds good."
She appears behind me a few seconds later, leaning against the doorframe, her gaze finding mine in the mirror. She walks up behind me without a word, slipping her arms around my waist. Her lips brush my shoulder.
"Your eye's looking a little better," she mumbles into my shoulder.
I shrug it off, making a comment about the lighting in here doing me favors.
JJ kisses my shoulder again, slower this time. "We'll take it easy on your leg," she says gently. "And I'll help you ice your ankle when we get back."
Then she's gone, retreating from the doorway with the softest touch, like she figured out I needed the room.
I stand there for a minute, hands braced on the sink. Breathing. Trying to get out of my own head. Not to think about the bomb. About cameras. About how close it all came.
I rejoin JJ as she's just placing both of our phones on the table beside Garcia's gift basket. The screens are dark, notifications silenced. I itch to check mine. But instead, JJ takes my hand and tugs me toward the door.
The last bits of sunlight cast a warm amber across the porch steps. A few couples stroll past us, some nodding politely, one woman smiling down at our joined hands—a man observing our closeness causing me to instinctively squeeze JJ's hand tighter.
As the trail curves, JJ sighs, swinging our joined hands between us. "We were long overdue for a vacation," she says plainly. "Rossi was the only smart one to drain all his sick and vacation time."
I laugh, tugging her slightly closer to avoid a dip in the path. She reads the gesture, and leans in easily without breaking stride.
JJ keeps her eyes forward and not on me, and asks, "Will it be hard for you to sell your apartment?"
I swallow and glance away for a second, clearing my throat. "The market's okay right now," I say. "It shouldn't be too hard to let it go if I decide to. My realtor is pretty decent enough."
JJ hums thoughtfully, then says gently, "You don't have to sell it, you know. If you want to keep it. I don't want to make things complicated for you."
There's something in her voice—a quiet way she gives me an out, like she's learned not to expect people—me—to choose permanence.
And I hate that.
I hate that I've done that to her.
I walk a little further, listening to the rustle in the trees, our boots crunching as we walk, the way my heart starts to beat faster.
"I want to be with you. And the boys. I want to do what you want me to do," I say.
JJ finally turns to look at me, slowing our pace. "I don't want you to do things just because I want you to," she says.
So I stop walking, glancing up into the sky for a second, like maybe the words will come easier from somewhere outside of me. But they don't. They're all mine.
"I'm scared to give up control," I admit quietly. “I always have been. That apartment...it's mine. It's my space. My fallback. But it's also empty. It's not a home." I take a deep breath, my voice softer now. "You and the boys are my home. And that scares the shit out of me. But it also makes me want to try. For the first time in a long time, I want something that feels permanent."
JJ's eyes brighten. She's doesn't speak right away. She just reaches up and cups the side of my face, her thumb brushing gently against my cheekbone.
"You're allowed to be scared," she whispers. "But I'm here. We're here."
”Yeah," I nod, turning to kiss the center of her palm.
Then we keep walking, and I squeeze her hand adding, "I just want to be wherever you are," I say, repeating what I said to her at the safe house.
JJ slows us to a stop again, this time stepping in front of me and taking both my hands in hers. "Then I want us to work on how we talk to each other. To actually talk," she says, her voice unwavering. "No more pushing things aside just because it's easier."
"I agree," I say immediately.
No part of me wants to hold her at arms length anymore. Not after everything.
But...Addison.
"If something's hard, I want us to say it. If something's wrong—I need you to tell me," she says.
Addison, and her fucking therapy bullshit.
"I don't want anything else to come between us. Not secrets—not anything at all," she says.
She's the only person now that has the power to determine not only when I'm fit to return to the job, but whether I pose a danger to the woman I love. Whether my silence is a coping mechanism or a liability. Whether I'm enough—for JJ, for the boys, for this life I keep pretending I've earned. But it only reminds me of how much effort everyone else is putting in to see me whole again. And how little I've done to meet them there. To pick apart my readiness to be with JJ. To know if I'm stable enough. Honest enough. Safe enough. All that crammed into one full report to be emailed directly to Madison once it's ready.
But, I'm not going back there.
~~~
"Is there a specific reason you don't plan to tell Jennifer about freezing your eggs?" Addison asks, her tone cool, almost disinterested.
I blink slowly. "It was a decision I made a long time ago."
My voice is even, detached, and I know it's a non-answer.
So does she.
I watch her write it down—purposefully, visibly—and it pisses me off.
I exhale sharply through my nose. "You writing that down too?" I mutter, not hiding the irritation in my voice.
"It's relevant," she says without looking up. Her tone clips at the edges, professionalism starting to thin. "Why do you think it's hard for you to open up, Emily? Especially to the people you love—and who love you back?"
I narrow my eyes at her and then look down, picking at my thumbnail—peeling back the skin. My knee bounces once. Twice. "It just is."
Another dodge. Another scribble.
Addison sets her notepad aside. "Do you ever think that what you hide says more than what you share?"
I stare at her.
Then she asks, "Why did you disappear?" Her voice softens just slightly, and I feel the shift.
I shoot up out of my seat, bumping the table, nearly knocking over the plaque. She reaches for it instinctively, like it's the one thing worth saving in the room.
I put distance between us, not making eye contact.
"You said this wasn't about us," I say, my voice low and hard. Reminding her of the lines she drew.
She's quiet. Then throws out another question—about JJ—and I laugh, bitter and humorless.
"Jesus, Addison." I run a hand down my face, jaw tight.
"Do you really think Jennifer knows you, Emily?"
My body stiffens instantly. I don't give her an answer.
So, she leans forward, "You're someone who builds walls faster than anyone I've ever known. You care deeply, but you hoard it like a secret. You want control because it makes you feel safe, but it’s also what isolates you."
My jaw twitches, my stare fixed on the corner of the office.
"You retreat when things get hard, and you confuse silence with strength." She exhales through her nose like she's doing me a favor. “You love Jennifer, I know that. But love can't survive in the dark."
I smile furiously. "Wow," I murmur. "That's impressive. All that profiling must of really paid off." I finally look at her, my gaze steady. "You think you know me just because you slept with me?"
Addison flinches. Just barely. And then picks up her notebook again to jot something down. I roll my eyes.
"Do you ever worry that Jennifer only sees the version of you that you allow her to? That maybe, if she knew everything...she wouldn't stay?"
"We're done here," I snap, heading for the door.
"If you leave before the hour is up, I'll have to mark this session as incomplete," she calls after me, voice rising.
But I'm already opening the door and slamming it closed, rattling the framed certificates and art on the walls.
I don't look back.
~~~
"Em?" JJ says softly.
The sound of her voice alone makes me stop walking.
"Let's head back," she says. "We can stop by the store, grab what we need for dinner, and then," she trails off, tugging us back where we came from. "I can show you just how much I missed you."
I smile, tilting my head down to kiss her firmly on the lips. Somewhat roughly, but sweet.