Author: elekanahmen aka Jax
Fandom: Criminal Minds, Nikki & Nora (Crossover)
Pairing: JJ/Emily, Nikki/Nora, JJ/Will implied
Disclaimer- I don't own them, as they're clearly NOT chained up in my closet
Warnings: Heavy use of the word "Fuck" (can y'all tell it's my favorite?)
Summary: JJ has a bit of a breakdown in the Suburban. Innocence and guilt are questioned.
Note: Fic #4 in the "All Your Bunnies Are Belong To ME" Challenge, aka the "I'm bored, give me a prompt" challenge on my lj. cyandragonfly, Chapter 2 on your JJ/Emily Nikki/Nora Murder in New Orleans extravaganza! Chapters for this will be posted in tandem with the rest of the challenges, a side-car of fic if you will.
Prompt: CM x N&N: JJ/Emily, Nikki/Nora, The murder of William LaMontagne Jr., a bit of story. (Have a feeling this will become a chapterfic. I've so been avoiding those, Franks. Thanks =P Also, this will not be related to Jessi's request. Separate stories.)
Emily was at JJ’s side in a heartbeat, arm around her waist, helping ease the pregnant agent down to pick up the vital papers that had just fluttered to the ground. She picked up the copies of police reports, the pictures of five and six year olds that had gone missing, only some of which they’d managed to find. JJ’s hands trembled as she placed them back into the folder. With Emily’s arm back around her waist, the two stood back up slowly.
Hotch stepped forward again, this time standing between the rest of the team and the two detectives. “You couldn’t possibly think—“
“Sir,” Detective Beaumont began.
“Agent Hotchner,” Beaumont emphasized his name, her voice on the fine tight wire between irritated and sympathetic, “I’d appreciate it if you not assume why we’re here. We just have some questions for the agents. And we’d be more than happy to get statements from the rest of you as well. The more we know the faster we can get a cop killer. I’m sure you all understand.”
JJ’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything and Emily knew that disoriented, frightened look. She’d met those same eyes at the Hankel farm a year and a half earlier as she talked the other agent down from her catatonic state. She eased her hand over the younger woman’s shoulders, rubbing them gently.
“He’s dead?” Her voice was flat, emotionless.
“Let’s get back to the station and talk about this there.” Detective Delaney reached for the woman’s hand instinctively but JJ recoiled, her eyes startled and cold.
“He’s dead?” She repeated, this time her voice was peppered with disbelief and cynicism.
“Agent Jareau…” Beaumont’s voice was soft and soothing, her gentle accent slipping out just slightly, “We can’t do this here. Y’all follow us back to our precinct, and we’ll talk. Alright?”
Emily nodded, holding JJ close, protective. She spoke softly to JJ, “Come on, Jayj… You and I both know we have to do this. We’ll get through it.”
The drive was tense and quiet at first, Hotch behind the wheel of the black SUV. Morgan turned in the front seat, looking at Emily, his eyes concerned and surprisingly paternal. “Emily, I just have to hear it from one of you. Is there any way that either of you are responsible?”
Emily shook her head, “We were on surveillance last night at the Unsub’s mother’s house. For four hours… Jesus, I mean, we didn’t even know the bastard was dead.”
JJ’s arms tightened around her swollen stomach instinctively at Emily’s words. She didn’t know what to say or do or feel. Will was dead. William LaMontagne, Jr. was dead. Her chest tightened. Her baby’s father was dead. Murdered, apparently. Her ex-fiancé was murdered. She knew as well as anyone in law enforcement who the first suspect always was. She knew even better that when the word “ex” came up, the suspicion would be stronger. Throw in the leaving him for a woman and, well… It would really help to have an alibi that wasn’t Emily.
Emily’s head turned instinctively to JJ when she heard the sound that slipped from JJ’s lips. The first sound since the two words she’d uttered last. She was laughing, a sick, cynical laugh. Her eyes were cold and pale, her mouth was twisted into a sarcastic scowl as her laughter grew louder. Hotch looked up into the rearview mirror, his own expression worried.
“Jennifer…” his voice echoed the sentiment as JJ braced herself against the back of Morgan’s seat, gripping the headrest.
Her laughs wracked her body as she finally gasped the words that were echoing across her mind. “We’re so fucked.”
“No, really, Em, we’re FUCKED.” JJ’s laugher subsided and her voice was now cutting through the tension in the car while at the same time adding to it. “We don’t have a fucking alibi, I still have shit in his apartment… I broke up with him by throwing my fucking engagement ring in his face three months ago.” Her eyes sparkled, not with tears or glee, but insanity. “And you? You and I were together last night. So you’re just as fucked as me.”
“Stop it.” Emily repeated, her voice growing firmer.
“What chance do we have? I’m all over his apartment. You were there when I left him… you’re there too. Em…” The fear was bleeding into her voice, diluting the coldness, the bitterness.
“The chance to prove that neither of you are killers.” Hotch’s voice was clear and unwavering. “You protect yourselves and your team, but you would never take a life that didn’t need to be taken. Just like any other case, we follow the evidence and we prove what is there and what shouldn’t have been.”
“You stay calm, you repeat the facts, you don’t let them play mind games,” Morgan added, resting a hand on top of JJ’s. “You guys didn’t let me go down, I won’t let you. Besides, I have a niece or nephew in there to spoil, and I don’t plan on doing it during visiting hours.”
JJ managed a half smile smile. “You’re right… you’re right.”
“Garcia, I want you and Reid to try and track down any GPS data that may have been gathered from cell phones or car devices after we give our statements. See if you can prove where JJ and Emily were or eliminate where they weren’t.”
From the back seat, Garcia and Reid nodded their replies and Rossi shifted slightly, scribbling in his notebook. “We don’t even know what evidence they have or don’t have. We don’t know if you’re being set up or just questioned as a natural process in a murder. You both know that we speak to spouses, ex-spouses and ex-spouses… new love interests first. It’s logical. It doesn’t mean there’s any evidence.” Rossi looked up at the two women, noting how Emily’s forehead was pressed tenderly against JJ’s temple, her hands gently stroking her hair. This was not the body language of guilt; it was the body language of love and solace. They were scared, not guilty.
He only hoped that the detectives investigating their case agreed. His fingers brushed over the gold bracelet in his pocket, grasping firmly around the only thing in the world that could ground him and closed his eyes in silent hope as they pulled up to the precinct.