When you first joined the BAU, you knew you were in trouble the second you made eye contact with Jennifer “JJ” Jareau. Upon first glance, she looked almost innocent. Big blue eyes, face framed with blonde ringlets. Rather quickly, though, you picked up on her sharp undercurrent. The way her lips curled when you tried to ask if she was married, knowing she had sons. You didn’t miss the way she’d picked up on your relief when she said she was divorced.

You had known you were into women, but you’d never really acted on it—always tiptoed around it, scared to make the first move. That is, until one smoky night at the local bar when you’d gone out with your team, and somehow ended up alone with JJ, on the deck of the bar.

Her eyes were on you, raking over your outfit. You were wearing a skirt that was, admittedly, very mini, along with go-go boots and a halter top. She knew that going after you, a young addition to the team, was a bad idea….but you were so appealling.

“I’d be cold if I were wearing that.” She muses with a lazy smirk, leaning against the paneling on the side of the building.