blue flamingos

Breakfast In Bed

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Category/Rated: Slash, PG-13

Year/Length: 2010/~597 words

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Jordan Todd

Spoilers: set post-511 Retaliation

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.

Summary: Jordan enacts a classic relationship cliche: breakfast in bed, complete with syrup

Series: sequel to Light, Not Darkness, but reads fine without having read that

Author's Notes: For the "food" square on my kink_bingo card.

Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.

hr

When Emily wakes up, Jordan isn't in bed next to her, and the covers have been smoothed and tucked back around her. She stretches, hissing when her bruises and abused muscles protest. She should have taken a shower the night before, but at least Jordan has a bath-tub.

Reminded, she listens for the shower running. She doesn't hear it, but she does hear movement – in the kitchen, she thinks, then moving closer.

She thinks about closing her eyes, feigning sleep, but the door nudges open before she can do it. Jordan comes through with a large tray in her hands, still wearing her sleep clothes, her hair a loose mess. She smiles when she sees Emily awake and watching her. "I thought I'd have to wake you up," she says.

Emily pushes herself up and leans back against the headboard, trying not to wince too much with the movement. "I guess I missed out," she says.

"I hope not." Jordan hands the tray over to Emily, settles herself on the bed next to her, and takes it back. "Here," she adds, handing over orange juice and a couple of pain killers which Emily swallows gratefully.

"There's only one plate," she says. Though it's a nice plate – one of Jordan's bright red dinner plates, stacked with star-shaped pancakes, dribbled over with syrup. "You already had breakfast?"

Jordan rolls her eyes. "It's called a romantic gesture," she says, picking up a fork and cutting the point off the top star. She holds it out to Emily, who just looks at her.

"You want to feed me?" she asks.

Jordan nods, holding the fork of pancake out again until Emily eats it, feeling foolish. They're good pancakes. Even better is when Jordan leans in and kisses her lightly. "This is the gesture that's less romantic and more sexy," she adds.

Emily leans back a little so she can catch Jordan's eye with an incredulous expression. "Pancakes you made with a cutter from your niece are sexy?"

Jordan laughs. "I was working it," she says, cutting another bite of pancake. "Open?"

Emily hesitates, but she's touched that Jordan's doing this for her. She takes the bite.

There's no kiss this time. "You feeling better?" Jordan asks instead.

Emily thinks about Bunting, then makes herself stop. She takes the fork from Jordan, their fingers brushing, and cuts her own bite of pancake. "My turn," she says.

Jordan smiles, sweet and amused, and leans in to take the bite, chewing slowly. "Not bad," she says.

"If you do say so yourself," Emily teases.

"You weren't going to," Jordan points out. She lets Emily feed her another bite of pancake. "This was supposed to go the other way around," she says.

Emily rests the fork on the edge of the plate, cups Jordan's cheek in her hand, and ducks in for a long, slow kiss. Jordan tastes of syrup for the first few seconds, then just of herself. Emily kind of likes the syrup.

"Maybe some things can go both ways," Jordan says when they lean apart. She's still smiling, and Emily feels better than she has since the team left for New York.

"Hmm," Emily says. She picks up the fork, toys with it for a moment.

"My turn," Jordan says, taking it from her. She feeds Emily another bite, sweet and soft. "Good?"

"Good," Emily agrees. She shifts, rests her head on Jordan's shoulder. "Romantic."

"Not sexy?" Jordan teases.

"Keep working on it," Emily says.

Jordan grins, less sweet, more predatory. "We've got all weekend," she says.


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