Blurred Lines

14. the wrath

We grin at each other, despite our hangovers. "Coffee," Tara says, shoving a mug at me. "Thank you, queen," I breathe, taking it from her. I wander deeper into the room, and flop onto their couch. "Okay, bitches, sit down," I tell them. They do, waiting for me to talk to them.

I explain everything that happened last night, and how I ended up sleeping in the same bed as Emily, and what happened in the morning. "Y/n," JJ groans, "Why did you have to piss her off more?" I shrug, "I'm a bitch in the morning without my coffee, combined with a splitting migraine from a hangover. It was a bad combination." Tara nods, agreeing with me, "I would have done the same thing, girl."

I grin at her. "Y'all got any Advil?" I ask. JJ bounces up, and grabs the bottle from the nightstand, passing it to me. I take a few, swallowing them with my coffee. "We have to figure out how to be presentable enough so she doesn't murder us," Tara mutters, "Y/n, you look like shit."

I glare at her playfully, "So do you, bitch." We laugh as we get ready to head to the precinct. "Who's gonna drive?" I ask them as we head to the elevators. "Not me," Tara immediately says. JJ sighs, "I will, I have the keys anyways." "I call DJ," I grin, and they smile in agreement.

When we roll up to the precinct, it sounds like we are supposed to be going anywhere but to solve a case for the FBI. The music is blasting, not aiding our hangovers at all. The silence is deafening as we get out of the car and troop into the precinct together. I wince at the fluorescent lights, groaning as I flop into a chair next to Spencer. "Good morning, Y/n," the boy genius quips happily.

I mutter a response as I realize that JJ didn't follow Tara and I into the conference room. I'm about to get up and look for her when Emily strolls through the door, files and coffee in hand, phone to her ear. "Thanks, Garcia," she says. She stops in her tracks at something our technical analyst says, her face impassive. "No, no. I'm not doing this right now. I have to go. Bye, Garcia," she ends the call with a roll of her eyes.

Spencer whispers to me softly, "What's up with Emily today?" I shoot him a sharp look. "Don't ask," I whisper back. His eyes widen in understanding and he nods. "Sorry," I grimace. He pinches his lips together, deep in thought. "Please, don't say anything, I don't want to hear it right now," I groan. "Later, then," Spencer decides. "Fine," I huff.

JJ comes in, balancing three coffees. "Oh, shit, Jayje," I get up and grab the mugs from her. She smiles at me, "One's for Tara." I roll my eyes, "I figured, babe." She flips me off and I stick my tongue out at her as I place Tara's mug in front of her. "Thank you," she breathes, immediately reaching for the warm cup. We hold our cups up, clinking them together in an overly dramatic and ceremonious manner.

I sit down in my chair again, to see Emily's intense gaze bouncing between the three of us. She stalks to the table, leaning on it as she states, "You three are hungover." I hear Spencer's soft gasp and I flick my eyes up in another eye roll. "Y/n," Emily's tone makes me stiffen in my seat. "Chief?" I ask. "Explain," she demands.

Her posture is that of my unit chief, but her eyes tell me that she's genuinely concerned. "I don't think I need to," I respond softly, knowing she will understand exactly what I mean without having to say it in front of the whole team. I see a shadow flicker across her face, but it's quickly concealed by a flat expression once again, her concern blinking out of her eyes.

"The three of you are staying here in the precinct. Reid and Alvez, you two are going to be taking point of any sort of external situations once we get to that point. I will be staying here as well, to monitor the three women who just jeopardized this entire case. We will be discussing this in depth once we arrive back at Quantico," she stands up straight as she speaks, her voice deathly soft.