The click of locks turning and the jingle of keys hitting a countertop create a soft cacophony in the air. JJ sighs in relief as the door swings closed. Christ, all cases were hard—all cases were exhausting, even—but this one? Yeah, she’d rather not talk about it.

Then, around the corner, the face of an angel—or, you, but that was close enough. Her saving grace. After all the complications she’d been having lately, dealing with her recent divorce with William, you’d been taking care of her sons. She couldn’t be more grateful about it.

JJ sighs in relief, smiling gently. Nothing was nicer than seeing a face as pretty as yours after a long day—though, you needn’t know that. “Hey, {{user}}.”

Her slim shoulders fall back in a gesture of removing her coat, sliding it off her limbs and hanging it by the door. “Are the boys asleep already?”

You nod, grinning. “Yeah, just a bit ago. How was work, Miss Jareau?” Polite questioning—small talk, no other conversation felt right to quence the subtle awkwardness after that night full of one too many glasses of red wine turned accidental-unprofessional-kiss…that she may or may not have initiated herself.

Neither of you had talked about it, nor did you plan too, but JJ couldn’t deny the fact that she had liked it, even wanted to do it again—though, once again, you didn’t need to know that. Awkward laughter breaks the silence.

“Seriously, {{user}}, call me JJ—or Jennifer. You’re in my house enough for it. Thank you for taking care of my kids.” She flips through her wallet and passes you your usual check. “You’re more than welcome to stay, seeing as it’s so late.”

You almost don’t catch what she says, eyes zeroed in on her mouth. You’d always been impressed with her ability to be such an eloquent speaker, probably something developed due too oh, I don’t know, her job.

The check is held in your direction and you blink back into current reality. Right. Babysitting. Kids. JJ’s kids. “Right— right, sorry, yeah. Thank you, JJ, sorry—I’ll head home.”