A/N: For those who follow my fan fic stories, my apologies for not updating them in a while. A lot has happened and I find myself with less and less time to write. I have been making progress on those stories, I just don't have parts ready for posting. Thank you for your patience. In the meantime, here's a little one shot based upon my Criminal Minds/Hawaii 5-0 universe. Here, Steve McGarrett and Emily Prentiss are married. The timeline is a little skewed as I reference a recent H5-0 episode. It's also kinda smutty, but I like to think there's some depth too and it's not smut for smut sakes, not that there's anything wrong with that where McGarrett is concerned. I like to call this soulful McPorn. Anyway, if anyone is interested in my other CM/H50 stories that focus on McGarrett/Prentiss, they are in the Criminal Minds section. This is my first time posting in the X-Over section for this particular show pairing. I hope you enjoy.

He watched her sleep, breathing slow and deep, in and out. The rhythm of her breaths calming him, soothing the frayed nerves with which he came back from Afghanistan. She eases the worry and concern he still feels for his friend, Catherine. He didn't lie when he told Cath he loved her. He does. Like he loves Mary or Kono. Cath is a dear friend, one he'd help in a heartbeat.

But this woman sharing his bed, sleeping beside him, she is something else, something more.

Emily.

Her name crosses his lips in a soft whisper and she stirs, slightly twisting her body in a slow arc and a sigh passes her lips. Steve arches an eyebrow at this, wondering what prompts the small smile to appear on her lips.

Still asleep, she reaches her arms above her head and turns her body, causing the thin sheet to slide down and bare her naked breasts. The bow her back creates thrust those delectable globes he has spent many hours lavishing attention on, upwards, the dusky peaks sharply defined. Her lower body moves restlessly and she murmurs his name in a way he has heard many times.

McGarrett's smile widens as he realizes what his beloved is dreaming of and the knowledge causes his morning hard on to stiffen even more.

He pulls the sheet completely off, exposing her lithe, naked form to his hungry eyes. Long legs, a narrow waist with hips that flare gently out. Her thighs are pressed together, the dark triangle between them just visible. Her breasts rise and fall with each languid breath she takes, urging him to taste them.

There are other marks on her body. The ugly scar that runs across her abdomen and the pink mark on one breast, the scars inflicted upon her by a man that Steve curses each day but can do nothing about. Ian Doyle was long dead before he was reunited with Emily Prentiss. Someone else had the honor of killing the bastard. Too bad he had done it so quickly.

However, Steve doesn't see the scars for what they are. He sees them as part of Emily and because of that, they are beautiful to him. They don't show the terror and pain she experienced, but her courage, her strength. They are a part of her, they are her, and he loves them.

She shifts again, her body gently twisting and she lets out another soft moan. He can't help but smirk knowing she is dreaming about him and one large hand reaches out to slip between her closed thighs.

Emily feels the intrusion and recognizes the warm, rough skin. Her legs part, allowing him to lovingly cup her, his palm pressing against her mound. She whispers his name again in her sleep as she rubs herself against him.

Slowly, he inserts a finger inside of her and groans feeling the wetness there. "Emily!" he growls out, earning a mewing reply from her.

He penetrates her with one, two more fingers and watches as she dances to the tune he starts to play. He can feel her muscles, clenching around the digits he had thrust deep into her body. A sheen of sweat covers her skin as he alternates the pace of his pumping fingers, thrusting, scissoring, stretching, crooking…fucking her as she sleeps.

He loves watching her sleep, able to look and marvel at her beauty, at her, when she is her most vulnerable and unawares. Steve views it as a privilege to do so, that she would trust him so completely and feel so safe in his arms to completely leave herself so unguarded.

But this he loves even more. When he's buried deep inside of her, he cannot watch her like he does now. He can't see how her porcelain white skin turns the same rosy hue of the inside of a delicate shell found on the beaches of Kauai. Nor does he always realize how her dusky nipples darken and harden to two magnificent points that ache to be suckled upon by his hungry mouth like the most delicious delicacies the islands have to offer. The sounds she makes as she claws her way to nirvana is more lyrical than any of the island songs that have become the soundtrack through his life. And when he rides her with his cock, he may not appreciate the heated scent that permeates the air as her arousal rises to its peak, a heady perfume uniquely Emily that puts the most fragrant of flowers in Hawaii to shame.

No, he doesn't see this as he drives them both heavenwards, too caught up in her to see all the individual beauty she brings, how she eclipses everything in his home that used to fill him with wonder. He understands why, for home was no longer a place or state. Home was Emily and each and everything about her filled him with awe. And to know he brings out this beauty, he with his simple ways of showing her his love, makes him humble and honored.

She's undulating on his fingers now, writhing and struggling, demanding he push her over the edge, but he doesn't oblige, just yet. Steve withdraws his fingers, earning a small cry of frustration from Emily. She whimpers in her sleep, confused by the loss.

He brings his soaked fingers to his lips and tastes the tips, sighing as her sweetness travels across his lips and tongue. He coats his stiffened cock with the rest of the moisture, stroking up, once, twice, but no more or he will spill himself on the bed and not inside of Emily.

Instead, he positions himself between her legs, pushing her thighs wide apart. They open easily, she knows he will relieve the ache he had been stoking the past few minutes. Steve shoves a pillow under her buttocks, raising her hips and she opens herself even wider for him.

He places a small kiss on the delicate flesh of the inner thigh of her right leg, so close to her sex the scent nearly drives him insane. But he tamps down the urge to ravage her, wanting to save that delectable coupling for later, when she's fully awake and aware not in this half dream state.

Instead, he inhales deeply as his nose nudges the damp hair that covers her sex. With his fingers, he parts her netherlips to reveal the lush flesh that resembled the most perfect of bedewed pink roses. Steve lowers his mouth and kisses her. His groan reverberates throughout Emily's body and as his tongue snakes inside of her, she lets out a guttural groan of pleasure and her body arches once more.

"Steve!"

Her body twists and undulates so much he has to pin her hips down so he can feast completely on her. Waves and waves of the sweetest nectar pour into his mouth and down his throat as his tongue and lips send her spiraling out of control.

Emily screams something incoherent as her orgasm hits her with all the ferocity of a freight train. Her body arches sharply, nearly sending her up off the bed before she collapses back down, panting harshly, fully awake now but only vaguely aware Steve was still between her legs, his mouth on her, his tongue inside of her quaking body.

He loves the fact she is capable of multiple orgasms and that he is the one to make her experience them. Rarely will he leave her with only one, especially if he's going down on her. She's too delicious to stop so quickly.

Emily knows it's futile to say she can't take it anymore. She always can, always wants him to continue what he's doing, despite her protests. And Steve knows this. Her murmured protests are gently ignored and he dives into her again, causing her hips to rock wildly, her flesh to burn, her heels, now dangling down his back as he pulls her legs over his broad shoulders, digging into him. Her breasts feel heavy and ache for attention but it's a choice between touching them herself or trying to find a grip onto something real before she's hurled into oblivion once more. She opts for relief and cups her breasts, roughly squeezing them.

Steve sees what she's doing and obligingly pushes away her hands to cover her aching breasts with his larger, stronger hands. Emily groans in satisfaction as rough fingertips squeeze, pinch and roll the nipples.

"God yes!" she cries out as her head thrashes on her pillow. She catches sight of the picture they make in the mirror across the room. A long animal stretched out across the bed formed by her legs draped over Steve's shoulders, his head buried in her sex, his hands reaching up to fondle and grasp her breasts. An animal made of tanned and porcelain skin, of dark and golden brown hair, an animal that are two, but are truly one.

To anyone else who saw them, the picture they create would be considered lewd and obscene, pornographic even. But here, in private, in their world, it was beautiful and precious. It wasn't about oral sex, or more gracelessly put, a man fucking a woman with his mouth. It was beautiful and sacred because it was about love, their love.

Steve's mouth draws hard on the small bead of flesh buried deep inside of her and Emily feels her reality shatter once more. She sobs out something, perhaps it was his name or even a curse, she doesn't know because she's dying and being reborn in the span of a millisecond. She drifts in a hazy reality for few seconds, a pleasant nothingness before she's brought back to the present by feeling her legs pushed wider part and the hard tip of Steve's cock nudging her.

Her token protests of not being able to take anymore are a thing of the past as her body eagerly responds to what he is offering. Emily stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. Steve stills, looking at her inquiringly. He had let her legs fall back onto the bed so she raises them to rest her calves against his shoulders, tilting her hips upward and providing Steve with an angle that would let him go deep inside of her.

He quirks an eyebrow down at Emily who merely smiles wickedly back at him.

"Hard, baby. I want you to ride me hard," she coos at him. Their love making had been sweet and gentle last night, a reunion that helped wash away some of the horrors and pain from Afghanistan. But this morning, in the soft light of dawn, Emily knew they needed something else, something wilder. Last night was about reassuring each other they were still both here and together. Now, they needed to be consumed by their lovemaking. This morning, they needed to know that they could still truly live and live for each other.

Even as his body hardened to granite, Steve's heart nearly burst for love for this woman who gave him all that she was. It was a gift that he cherished and swore each day to protect and be worthy of. He kissed the calf on her left leg and lifted himself to his knees. One hand reached out to wrap around the wrought iron headboard of the bed, the other to grip her hip. Slowly, he pushed his way into her body.

It was like diving into molten honey and his harsh hiss of breath drowned out her soft cry. He pushed until he was buried deep inside of her, their lower bodies melded against each other as they joined. Steve paused, savoring the feel of her around him, before he slowly drew out, her pulsating flesh clenching around him, trying to keep his cock inside of her. With deliberate movements, he plunged in and slowly pulled out, his loud breaths keeping time with his actions.

"Faster, baby," she whispered, arching into him, needing more.

Steve let out a small chuckle. "You'll get it, babe, but not just yet. I want to enjoy it completely." He wanted to look at her some more before he completely lost control. He chuckled again when she pouted at him, but moaned as she rocked her hips, causing his tenuous control to fray a little bit.

"Minx," he gasped as his thrusts became a little quicker, a little harder, his grip on the head board and her hip a little tighter.

"You're only…just…figuring that…out?" she stuttered. Emily could feel the burning streaking through her body, every muscle, every cell tightening. She moved her hips again and heard a guttural growl from McGarrett. Soon, their bodies were rocking in time with each other, dancing their private dance. The headboard began to bang rhythmically against the wall and the bed springs squeaked and squawked as he drilled deeper into her. Steve was moving faster, thrusting harder, whirling and twirling her about, sending her spiraling out of control until her orgasm caused her to burst into flames and dissolve into nothingness.

Emily screamed her release, not his name, but some primal cry that spoke of pure pleasure. For one long moment, their eyes locked. Her body in the throes of pleasure showed him his place in this world, his home, but her eyes now, allowed him to glimpse the universe, where he could see the sky, stars, the heavens, everything and he followed her over the edge.

He spilled himself into her, his hips pumping wildly as he emptied himself into her willing body. Steve sagged against Emily, his hips still moving erratically, but slowly now. He let out a shuddering breath and his body stilled though his cock twitched a few more times inside of her. When his entire body was completely still, he wearily rolled off to the side, bringing her with him, letting his semi-hard shaft to slip out of her body. He tucked her to him, her head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped tight around her.

For a moment, their panting drowned out the muted sounds of the waves outside. Their breathing evened out and heart beats slowed, and the sounds of the early morning filtered into the room. But both were silent. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. They didn't need words all the time and after that bout of activity, neither one would be surprised if the other fell back asleep. But both were wide awake as evidenced by Steve absently tracing patterns on Emily's arm and she doing the same on his stomach.

Finally, she turned her head to look at him. He was staring off into space and she knew he was thinking about Afghanistan and that he was feeling he had failed his friend.

"It was her choice, Steve," Emily said quietly.

"It was my screw up in the first place. I got caught," he returned shortly. He wasn't mad at Emily and she knew that. He was furious at himself and feeling guilty. Steve felt he had to protect everyone and he would too. Those instincts were strong in him. It's what made him a good cop and soldier. He lived to serve and protect. But at what expense? No one can save everyone every single time and Lord knows Steve has had his failures. They ate at him, destroying a little bit of him each time. Now this situation with Catherine, a woman he had once been involved with, someone he still cared about, it hit him hard that was he was powerless to help her. That it was a former lover did not concern Emily or make her feel jealous or insecure. She knew with Steve, once he let you in, you were in for life. It would take something incredibly horrible to make him stop caring for you. It didn't bother Emily, in fact, it was a trait she loved about him because God knew she felt there was much in her past that need to be forgiven and she found a man who loved her despite everything she had done.

No, she wasn't worried about the what and why of Steve helping Catherine Rollins out. She was worried about what it was doing to him.

"Baby," Emily said in a soft voice. She touched his cheek to get his attention and kept her hand on it as he turned to look at her. "You gave her the opportunity to do what she needed to do. To settle with her demons. Without you, she wouldn't have had that chance and would be living with them now, powerless. The rest she needs to do on her own and she realizes it."

"I just feel like I failed my friend," Steve murmured, rubbing his cheek against Emily's palm, seeking the comfort she was offering.

"You didn't fail anyone, Steve," she assured him. She leaned up to kiss him softly. She started to pull away but his hand came up to hold her in place. His tongue asked permission and she willingly parted her lips. Emily felt herself rolled over onto her back as he kissed her long and deep.

When they parted for air, Steve still hovered above her, a few inches from her face. "How can you do that?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Do what?" Emily frowned in puzzlement at him.

"Any other woman would be upset to have her husband go into a war zone to help a former girlfriend on a mission. You didn't even blink an eye and now…you're reassuring me, comforting me. How do you do it?"

Emily smirked slightly at him and her arms came up to snake around his neck. "And here I thought you SEALs were smart. Haven't you figured out that I'm not any other woman? I'm your woman and I know and love you completely. I know you weren't helping out Catherine because you were in love with her or even if you were once in love with her. You were helping out your friend and that's what you do." Emily placed her hand over his heart. "It's who you are and who I fell in love with. If I couldn't understand and accept that part of you, it would mean I don't love you, and that can never be true."

Blue eyes looked into dark brown ones and once again, Steve could see the universe written there. This woman was past, present and future to him. The stars, the sun, the moon. The heavens and the earth and sea. She was life. She was joy. She was every hope and dream.

She was his.

She was his heart.

She was Emily, his wife.

"What did I do," he asked her in a voice cracked with emotion, "To deserve someone as wonderful as you?"

Emily felt tears in her own eyes and placed her own hands on his cheeks. "By being the wonderful man you are."

He kissed her almost reverently and felt the last of his guilt slip away as she gave him back the sun, the stars, and the moon.