He had been the first supportive member of the team when she started. Years ago. She never quite put into words what it meant to her, to have his friendship and support. But Emily was certain Derek knew. It was almost eerie the way they could read each other at times. Which is what made it so hard to have him doubt her about Matthew.
Emily didn't focus on that. She had turned her attention to David Rossi. Much like Mathew had done, Dave stuck his neck out in her defense. It probably didn't help matters that she confided one of her darkest secrets to him and he had kept it safe. And maybe, just maybe, David provided a fatherly comfort she would never openly admit to liking. Liking very much.
Yet she also liked the attention she received from Derek since her start with the BAU. Guys like Derek Morgan didn't seriously pay attention to the likes of Emily Prentiss.
Ugh. As quickly as the thought crossed her mind, Emily internally chastised herself. It was unfair and unkind to think of Morgan that way. She knew damn well that he didn't judge people by their surface as many judged him. Maybe she was still hurt by his stance when it came to Mathew.
'Thank you.
Always.'
His response stayed with her. They were exactly Mathew's words so many years ago. And just as she knew her young friend meant it over two decades past, she knew Derek meant it too. He might never understand or share her beliefs but he would always be there for her. Wasn't that what Mathew had done in a sense?
Maybe she shut Derek out to protect him. It was a good thought. It provided her about half an ounce of relief from the guilt she felt over her actions toward him since. However, the relief totaled ten seconds. If that. Her mind continued to debate events that had transpired months ago.
She hated that this happened on every date with Dave. She couldn't make heads or tails of what that meant –to think of Derek Morgan and what he meant to her when she accepted an advance from David Rossi. Would she think about Dave if she were out with Morgan? Why am I thinking of going out with Morgan?
"Penny for your thoughts?" Dave's voice broke her reverie. "Well, at least a Copper Penny." He teased lightly with a warm smile and just as warm a look. Emily looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment. A blush crept up on her cheeks and a sheepish grin tugged her lips.
"That sounds really good. I'll take one," she answered casually although her expression gave her away. Emily avoided eye contact for a moment longer and finished her glass of wine. "You heard the lady. One Copper Penny and one scotch, straight up. On the rocks."
She gently placed her glass back on the table and finally locked eyes with Dave who sported a light smirk. "Dinner was great, thank you. How do you find these places? Is this one of the perks of being a best-selling author?" she teased, attempting to divert the attention from herself.
Dave chuckled and settled back into his seat. "More like a perk of being a resident a little longer than you. Now...are you going to tell me what stole your attention away before I start having bad thoughts about our waiter?" he prodded with a knowing brow in addition to the hint of a smirk on his lips.
"Oh God, he's probably still in college. Really, Rossi."
"Dave," he corrected almost immediately without losing the smirk.
Emily chuckled apologetically, "Right. Dave."
His name hung in the air and her eyes fell from his again. She felt he could see right through her. A little pesky thing called profiling that David Rossi pioneered. Pioneer? The thought made her wrinkle her nose for the briefest moment. She didn't like the reminder that Dave had a number of years on her.
God, maybe I really DO have daddy issues.
A chuckle snapped her out of the wayward thinking once again. Her cheeks immediately grew warm as her eyes darted up to his. "I'm sorry." Emily smiled apologetically while Dave gazed warmly at her.
He raised a hand and waved her off. "No need to be. You're allowed to have things on your mind. ...And it's fun watching you," he ended in an obviously flirty tone.
She had picked up her wine and finished it off as if the cool liquid could douse the flames she felt on her face. No such luck. "You're not so bad yourself," Emily returned in her own lightly libidinous manner.
"Is that why I can't hold your attention tonight? -My good looks are too much for you to handle?" he shot back playfully.
His quip made Emily roll her eyes and scoff through a laugh. "Careful there, Rossi. You might have some trouble making it through the doorway if your head gets any bigger."
"Dave," he corrected again, still a hint of a smile on his features. She quickly lost the teasing look of disbelief for one of embarrassment again. "Dave. Right. Sorry." You are SO gonna blow this! Get with it! You never have this much trouble using his first name at work. ...Do I? And I seriously need to stop talking to-
"Copper Penny and a Scotch," the server called as he approached.
The couple turned their attention to the younger man and nearly nodded their acknowledgment in sync. "Dessert?" Joshua, the waiter, asked after setting each drink in front of its owner.
"Oh no I couldn't," Emily instantly lied with a shake of her head.
"Shame. Their creme brulee holds international fame," Dave gently nudged her verbally.
"Can't pass up on a dessert of that caliber then," she conceded with a smile at Dave before bringing her attention back to their server.
"Very well," the young man responded with a congenial grin and repeated, "Creme Brulee," then quickly took leave once more.
"Why do women do that to themselves?" Dave asked when Joshua started back to the kitchen. Emily looked puzzled at him, circling her glass with her hands rested on the table. "Deny yourself what you really want," he elaborated.
While she knew full well what he was alluding to, Derek Morgan flashed across her mind. Again. She took a long breath before responding. "Because what the heart wants isn't always best."
"You don't really believe that," Dave pressed.
"Every time I step on an elliptical, I do. But now I can think about you instead," she returned with a jest.
"If it was up to me, you wouldn't step on that thing at all. Even if cuts out on you thinking about me." He stared intently and took a sip of his drink without ever leaving her eyes.
While Dave kept his eyes fixed on hers, Emily lowered hers to her drink. She was flattered and a hint of embarrassment laid just below the surface. She did think of Dave. His looks were rugged yet refined -dapper don man's man.
Their dates had left Emily with a lot to think about at night. Tonight was quite possibly the night that she would get to do more than think about him. The way he was looking at her, and how patient he had been, she couldn't imagine otherwise. Except that she continued thinking of another man.
Emily didn't allow herself to drift in thought this time. "Now look who's saying something he doesn't really mean," she quipped as her eyes returned to his. "You honestly want me out of shape and not thinking about you?" Her brow quirked in a challenging form while her lips tugged into a smirk. She sipped her own drink and watched him.
"A woman's shape should be soft. Supple. That's the shape you and any other woman should be in. And I'd also be a hypocrite to want otherwise. I'm not exactly carrying my mid-section in washboard quality but I get by," he ended with a wink to break his longing stare.
"Mmm." It was a sound more to acknowledge than to agree but held the quality of performing both services. Her grin and gaze said the rest. Dessert arriving made it understandable that she didn't say anything more. Emily kept focused for what was left of their time in the restaurant.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dave kept a hand at the small of her back as they waited for valet to bring his car around. "Where to?" he asked softly with his eyes where the valet headed. This time it was Dave who was not making eye-contact. Emily wasn't sure what to make of that. Did he not want confirmation or was he possibly avoiding rejection? An even better question was, what did she want?
"Your place?" she answered in the form of a question with a voice hardly above a murmur. That got his attention. Dave panned back to Emily with a smile. He was confidently pleased but not overt where his look eluded to something smug. His date, however, didn't sport the same kind of decided happiness. Yet Dave wasn't put off in the slightest. At least, he didn't appear to be.
She wasn't trying to be flaky or indecisive. Taking this step was simply never easy for her and there was a lot more at stake with Dave than past dates. He might have had a history with women he worked with, Emily...not so much. And she was doing her best to keep her mind off Morgan. Under all those circumstances, it didn't seem right yet... She couldn't not go through with it again.
"Are you asking me or telling me?" he asked, turning into her and bringing his other hand around her. Now both of his hands were perched at her sides and his lips were just inches from her. Emily noted them and his eyes. They were kind and patient first, lust not too far behind. She blushed for some ungodly reason and grinned timidly yet managed to keep her eyes locked with his.
"Telling. It was more of a question between which one of our places but since you made me decide... it's yours." Her voice finally held no reservation. A fact that more than likely prompted Dave to kiss her. There was no thought of Morgan or her career or what she was doing. Her starved sex drive was no doubt a factor but it didn't help matters that Dave kissed exquisitely well.
And then, cell phones began to ring.
No no no no no no no. Emily huffed her exhale of breath that she held while lip-locked. Dave didn't look none too pleased either as he reached for his offending item. His vehicle pulled up to the curb as he sent Hotch's call to voicemail while his date answered a call from JJ.
There was no getting out of work. Seven children dead in two days with three missing who would more than likely end up dead without help from the BAU.
"Okay, JJ. W-I'm on my way." There was also a near slip of the tongue. Emily looked sheepishly at Dave and mouthed 'sorry' to which he silently dismissed once more with a shake of his head. She checked the cell phone screen and made sure the call ended. "Back to work. No rest for the wicked," she muttered and stood looking deflated.
"Hey, I didn't have plans to be that wicked," he teased with a wink then kissed her forehead.
Emily nearly snorted. "Good thing we're going back to work then. How boring," she shot back with mischief in her smile. She was tempted to capture his lips again but refrained. There had to be some reason he chose to kiss her head instead.
"To be continued," Dave replied simply as he reached for and squeezed her hand then gently pulled her toward the passenger seat. Emily followed his lead, quickly getting into the car and situating herself while he maneuvered to the driver's side then called Hotch back.
There was no formal goodbye at her doorstep. Hotch ran over details of the case with Dave who put the call on mute only to let her exit. They definitely weren't at a stage where it was time to tell their co-workers of their romance. She sufficed with a wave farewell before heading to her condo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emily quickly changed and checked the contents of her overnight bag. She was at the BAU half an hour after JJ's call, dropping her ready bag at her desk before joining the team in the conference room.
"Seriously, Rossi. It's gotta be the fifth time you come back to work dressed to the nines. I don't know how you do it. Wish I had time to work on wife number one while you're working on number four."
Funny how she was unable to keep on a facade on a date but didn't skip a beat at work. Emily facially ignored Morgan's comment and opted to make herself a cup of coffee rather than take an immediate seat.
"You want a wife?" Reid immediately asked Morgan with unmistakable surprise.
Derek arched a brow in annoyance and lightly smacked the Genius upside his head as a soft chuckle erupted around the table. Hotch walked in, ending further banter between any members of the team. There was no coffee made, making it feasible for Emily finally frown. She took a seat and glanced at Dave who's attention was on their boss. She followed suit, purposely avoiding a glance at Derek or any other BAU agent.
"I just got off the phone with the New Orleans' Chief of Police. We'll discuss the case on the jet. ...Dave, I'll need you here. If there is any connection to Father Barber whatsoever, I know you'll find it. And there won't be anyone better to interview him. ...Everyone else, wheels up in ten minutes."
It was hard to keep the frown off of her lips. New Orleans had a romantic quality to it and Dave would have to remain at Quantico. Emily looked around the room. Garcia wasn't joining them and JJ more than likely would be confiscated by her psuedo in-laws the second there was any time off the clock. Hotch... was Hotch. Reid had his friend in town. Only Morgan was left.
Emily could only pray they didn't remain in The Big Easy longer than necessary.
She hurried out of the conference room with and headed for her go bag, completely missing how Derek followed her with his eyes. Dave and Hotch remained to further discuss tactics while JJ and Penelope walked out to do the same (or possibly just discuss the men in their lives). Reid followed the ladies out, dialing his friend in New Orleans. Morgan grabbed his ready bag, slung it over his shoulder then picked up the two coffees he brought in with him and caught up with Prentiss.
"Here," he offered her a coffee once they were side by side, outside of the bullpen -on the way to the elevators. "I was working out when I got the call so I picked up two, knowing this place wouldn't have anything made and not knowing if we were going to head right out or not. You can have one. I'll make a pot on the jet if I need more than this."
There was no good reason to decline. It didn't take a profiler to notice her attempt to make a mug in the conference room. And history dictated that she would enjoy the kind of latte he more than likely picked up.
"Thanks," she replied with a polite smile and grasped the coffee he extended.
Derek immediately smiled back then pressed the elevator call button with his newly freed hand. "Not a problem. ...So... interrupted another hot date tonight?"
Emily had the misfortune of taking a sip when he asked the question. She immediately choked on the liquid as the chime sounded and the elevator doors opened. At nine o'clock in the evening, it made sense that no one else used the elevators and one opened as soon as Morgan had pressed the button.
"Hey, I didn't mean for you to get all choked up!" There was a teasing quality to his words, however, his brow furrowed in a look of concern. "Just figured you were using your hot tub. That's all," he explained while patting her back. Her brow furrowed in an aggravated expression and Emily lifted an arm to block Derek from helping her further.
"I'm fine," she lied, still coughing. "And like I'd tell you."
Even amidst choking, her tone was a little shorter than usual when deflecting jokes at her expense. Emily quickly stepped into the elevator and was joined by a perplexed Derek. Her eyes scanned for other members of the team but found no one. She could feel his stare but opted to take another sip of coffee. Reasonable move given her choking state. She liked to think, anyway.
An awkward silence started to filter the small space. She could see in her peripheral sight that he sipped his own coffee. Nice. Alienate the man because YOU have issues. He gave you his latte and you give him a cold shoulder. ...Nice. Emily cleared her throat in preparation to say something but absolutely nothing of use came to mind.
"Not a problem. You don't have to tell me. I was only playing." His voice was low and gentle. Another attempt from Derek to be congenial. Yet... hurt was very easy to pick up from his tone.
Emily felt horrible. Horrible wasn't a horrible enough word.
"Maybe we can go out in New Orleans and talk about it," she replied. Her mouth had made an unexpected apology for her. WHAT? Wait, no. ...No no no no no.
"Sounds good," he answered with a genuine polite grin. "From what little I've caught of this case, we'll definitely need it."
She didn't digest a majority of his words. She was too busy banging her head on a mental wall. The day had to be too long or her senses were still jostled from her date with Dave. There had to be SOME kind of explanation for why she just did the one thing that she had been able to avoid for months. Emily simply nodded with her eyes toward the bottom of the elevator doors and took another sip of coffee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maybe he would forget about it. The case was indeed draining. Ten boys between the ages of twelve and fifteen were savagely brutalized and killed. Three were saved, if one could really call it that. The kinder thing may have been death. It was a frightening ugly thought yet the truth.
Hotch had been right. Rossi was the best to interview the priest held in Cumberland. While the crimes weren't the work of a copycat, they were incredibly similar. All in the name of 'purification'. The Boy Scout Leader in the Big Easy had undergone a psychotic break and set his sights on boys at an age who were outgrowing the club. He 'only wanted to give them a taste of what the real world was like'.
Emily had forgotten her own problems before even arriving to New Orleans. The briefing on the jet motivated the entire team to remain diligent on the case. Arriving too late for the three who went missing before they arrived had only added to their determination.
It wasn't difficult to see who was taking the case the hardest. However, there wasn't anyone on the team who seemed comfortable with clearly approaching Morgan about it. The closest had been Reid who was met with an overly angry, 'Am I okay? I'll be great when we catch this son-of-a-bitch.'
Catch the unsub, they did. Yet Derek seemed far from great.
They hadn't had a reprieve in some time. Hotch decided the team could take two days before rounding back up in Quantico. The boss would take his time off back home to see his son while JJ was met by an impromptu visit from hers and his daddy for their first tour of his hometown as a family. Reid made plans with Ethan. Morgan had been invited by both of his fellow teammates but politely declined. Emily had no alternative. And truthfully, she no longer wanted one.
"Are you going back with Hotch?" she asked gently once Reid had headed out of the hotel lobby. "Or are we still on?"
"Hotch is gone. I'm probably not the best company tonight," Derek answered somberly, his eyes tiredly remaining on the exit doors as he spoke.
"Hey, I'm not expecting entertainment. Or a night on the town." You shouldn't be alone. She knew what she wanted to say but couldn't think of the right words. The wrong ones would definitely deter him. Less was better. Actions spoke louder than words so Emily slipped an arm around his and pulled his limb to her side. "Just the company of someone I trust in a city filled with strangers."
Derek slowly looked over at her. His eyes weren't just tired. They were pained. Emily felt a pang as she stared into them. "Please?" She didn't expect to say that out loud. But it seemed to work. He nodded.
"Hotch gave me the key to his suite to turn in. It probably has a couch and a balcony. ...Better than sitting in a smoke filled lounge with people all around," he said sullenly. "That okay?"
No? She couldn't deny him. Something in the back of her mind told her that this wasn't a good idea but her heart trumped it. The truth was that she DID trust Derek. It had only hurt that he didn't trust her in the same regard. But Emily wasn't thinking of any of that now.
"Sounds great. Shower and meet in half an hour? We can order food. Maybe a movie," she offered without really caring for an answer. Derek had darted out his chin in acknowledgment of a shower and meeting in thirty minutes. She led him to the elevator with her hold then rested the side of her head lightly on his shoulder as they rode up in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The small voice in the back of her mind became a little louder as Emily slipped into a pair of jeans. She had successfully ignored it in the elevator and wasn't doing too bad in the shower. Why it decided to strongly protest her donning a pair of jeans, Prentiss didn't understand. They hugged her curves, yes, but a little black dress it was not. She was becoming quite annoyed with herself. And slightly worried about her sanity.
She wasn't sure what she had against Derek anymore. There was no doubt he needed someone right now. Had she needed him, Emily was sure he would be there. It was after all how she managed to get him to agree to company tonight. She slipped into her cotton quarter-length sleeves red shirt and glanced at her cell phone that rested on the dresser.
Dave had sent her a simple text message earlier. They were smart enough not to relay anything too personal over work issued devices. He had asked her to text him if she were up to dinner tonight. If Emily gave it real thought, she would recognize that her guilt started to set in then. -When she couldn't think of a proper way to say she was spending the night with Morgan in New Orleans and woudn't be able to meet him.
There would be no message back to Dave tonight. She couldn't chance even a call with Derek around. Emily forced herself to stop thinking of both men in competition with one another. The situation simply sounded like something it wasn't. She convinced herself of that while drying her hair. There no more comparisons made or questions of impropriety during her quick touches of make up. She only hoped Dave didn't attempt to call her.
It took Emily a little more than thirty minutes to finally arrive. She opted for a quick trip to the liquor store on the corner of the street. Vodka for half the price the hotel charged. There was no shortage of places to purchase alcohol in New Orleans. Even after Katrina and without it being Mardi Gras. When Derek opened the door, it seemed he had the same idea. There were two brown paper bags already sitting on the coffee table with a low ball glass that held rust colored liquid in it.
"Started the party already?" Emily asked rhetorically as she passed him and entered the room. It didn't surprise her that the bed appeared untouched. Maybe it was housekeeping but the BAU didn't look all that well rested in the thirty-six hours they had spent in town.
"Tequila and whiskey. My glass has the rest of the cognac I bought last night. ...What'd you get?" he asked, grasping the bag from her and setting it down with the others instead of obtaining the answer himself. Derek definitely wasn't himself. Emily took a seat on the loveseat and watched him, doing her best not to be obvious.
"Vodka. We should probably order food. I haven't eaten anything other than the continental breakfast this morning."
Derek dropped himself on the other side of her. "Go ahead. I'm not hungry."
His response made her frown for a second. Her expression became determined as she turned away from him toward the side table that held the phone. She picked up the receiver and pressed for room service.
"I'm ordering you something anyway. JJ said something about the subs being good here. Will mentioned it. I think- Hi, yes, I'd like two of your sandwiches. No, not the poor boys but the same kind of bread. It's a baguette, right? ...Yeah, just regular subs. Turkey or ham. That's fine. No. Just mayo, lettuce, tomatoes. ...Light on the onions. ...Sure. Plain potato chips are fine. ...Even better. Can you send a bottle of ketchup with it then? Great. ...Yes, charge it to the room. Oh, and dessert! Creme brulee?"
The voice was silent but Emily could feel it staring expectantly at her. She ignored the feeling and answered.
"Sounds good. I'll try that and a slice of cheesecake. The turtle one. Thanks."
She hung up the phone and pivoted back toward Derek. He had risen off the small couch and walked out to the nearby small balcony. Emily refrained from frowning with her lips but her eyes watched him worriedly. However, instead of immediately joining him, she grasped the empty glass on the table and loaded three ice cubes in it then reached for the paper bags.
"Twenty minutes," she informed him while pouring herself the Patron. Once the glass was filled, she closed the bottle and returned it to the table then joined Morgan on the balcony. He was silent. Emily was sure he heard her and didn't push. Instead, she followed his eyes and gazed at the fading sunlight over New Orleans. The day was ending and collage of colors blanketed the sky. As beautiful as it was, she broke her gaze and looked back at Derek.
He lifted his glass and finished off its contents. The act prompted Emily to take a sip of her own drink. She kept her eyes on him as she drank from her glass. His eyes were tired or on the verge of tears. She swallowed the liquor and unconsciously licked any remnants off her lips.
"Rossi know you're here?"
Her jaw dropped slightly and skewed. She was about to ask if he wanted another drink. Or something about the sunset. New Orleans. Anything but the subject he brought up. Her brow knitted together and she decided to challenge the question.
"Why would he?" Emily asked with an incredulous stare, regardless of the caught expression she sported for the briefest moment initially.
"Come off it, Em. Everyone knows. Even people back at Quantico who aren't profilers."
His words stung. Emily didn't know why. Her cheeks were on fire nonetheless. She didn't know how to respond and it was suddenly better to assume that this was just his attempt to get rid of her.
"Everyone knows what, Morgan?" she demanded to know. Derek left the balcony back to the coffee table and filled his glass with the tequila she had opened.
"That you two are seeing each other, Prentiss."
She hated how easily the statement rolled off of his lips. It infuriated her even more that she didn't know how to respond. Everyone knew? Everyone? Had Dave told people? She sure as hell didn't. They had just had dinner. Numerous times. Dates that were never consummated. Almost consummated but-
"You're not denying it." His words stopped her thoughts. The tone he used was hard to read. Morgan himself looked something between amused and cross. Bitter even. Emily could not gauge him at all. She had only one sip of the tequila so alcohol couldn't even be blamed here.
"We've had dinner a few times. I don't know how that's anyone's business. Or why it's a topic of conversation now," she answered vehemently and stared expectantly at Derek. He wasn't fazed by it. Not in the slightest. At least, Emily didn't read anything in his actions. She thought she saw his jaw tighten but couldn't be sure. Her mouth was dry and she craved a drink but refused to move until he responded.
"Because contrary to what everyone seems to think of me, I actually have a moral compass. So I happen to ask if the guy knows when his girl is in a hotel room drinking with me. ...Ask Penelope," he concluded in annoyance, only simmering at the last two words.
Wow. Emily was irritated, confused and impressed all at once. Confusion, leading her feelings by a landslide.
"Maybe I don't think it's a topic of conversation because I actually know you have a moral compass. ...Are you trying to say that I don't? I'm not exactly sure what you're getting at, Morgan. Was this just how you wanted to have this conversation? Make it so I don't have a choice and am forced to share my personal life with you?"
She finally took a sip of her drink. Multiple swallows. In an obviously angry manner. Emily finished off her drink in seconds. Derek darted his gaze over to her at the last question she posed and stared incredulously. He swallowed and answered, "So I have a moral compass but I'd force you to do something you don't want to do? Which is it?" He had made his drink but never lifted the glass from the table. His arms folded over his chest and he looked expectantly at her.
Oh God. She hadn't meant to say it like that. There was no doubt this case had brought painful reminders for Derek. A trusted figure of the community who abused of multiple little boys before brutalizing and murdering older ones. The last thing she had wanted Morgan to feel was that she had any issue of trust with him. Her face fell and her eyes welled slightly with frustration.
"You have a moral compass," she answered softly with apologetic eyes. "I always think of you as a good guy..." Emily walked toward him and desperately looked for forgiveness or some kind of understanding in his eyes. "You're the first person I trusted on the team. I trust you with my life."
Derek continued to stare angrily for a long while. It felt like an eternity to her. But she could read beneath the anger and was certain the furious gaze was only a cover for a multitude of vulnerable emotions that had been touched by this case. She couldn't imagine him wanting to be viewed like a victim. Emily didn't view him as one. She stopped a foot from him and never dropped her gaze.
"Hasn't felt like that in a minute," he finally spoke and brought his attention back to his glass -picking it up then walking past her back to the balcony.
A tear escaped her eye. Fortunately, Derek had his back to her when it did. She felt ashamed and foolish for it. He was right. Up until they were in the elevator at Quantico before heading to New Orleans, she purposely kept a distance from him. It was something that remained on her mind yet she continued to do it. Dave had become her substitution. He believed her and kept her confidence.
It was so important to be believed. Derek didn't understand. He doubted. Even though he was there he ...He doubted, but he was there.
Not until that very second did Emily derive that realization: How much easier it was for someone to be there who believed. Or someone to turn away who didn't. Derek didn't believe yet was there every step of the way. Her mouth hung open in surprise for a moment then she shook her head and closed it. She chastised his friendship all because SHE could not view what had happened any other way.
She lowered her glass on the table and wiped the wetness from her face while trying to find what to say. A very ill timed knock at the door cut off her attempt. Emily slightly resembled a fish with her mouth opening then closing then opening and finally uttering, "I'll get that." Not exactly the words she was looking for.
Twenty minutes felt like eons ago given what had transpired. And now she shared Derek's sentiment. Emily wasn't hungry. She answered the door and smiled politely at the hotel worker. "Right there is fine," she indicated where to place the tray (on the empty side of the coffee table) and started on the bill that was handed to her. "Thanks."
The young man nodded and quickly took leave. Apparently it didn't take a profiler to notice the less than social gathering in the room. Emily locked the door behind the hotel employee and joined Derek on the balcony.
There was hardly a trace of the sun in the sky. Derek took another swallow and emptied his glass. He had taken a few sips in the silence. She looked between him and the horizon. He kept a steely gaze out toward New Orleans that she no longer knew what to make of. Her throat tightened. She didn't know what to say and she felt like shit.
It suddenly was important to take the empty glass from him. If Emily couldn't provide him comfort any other way, she could at least ...Tend the bar? What the hell? It seemed helpful and useful. She didn't know what else to do. "Let me get that," she said, reaching for the glass. Derek panned his furrowed brow at her and said with his eyes what she had said to herself internally.
"Please?" The word seemed to soften him. He released the glass into her possession and leaned back against the railing. His eyes followed her. Emily could feel them as she walked back into the main room. Without looking at him, she knew a million things were running through his mind. She would gladly hold a conversation about everything and anything -that didn't pertain to her.
"You don't have to stay," he said. She was relatively sure it was for lack of anything else to say.
"I know. But I want to. Unless...you don't want me to."
Thirty plus years on this earth and they sounded like people half their ages.
"Why do you want to? Because of what I said? I don't need a pity party, Prentiss."
"Derek, I agreed to this back at Quantico. Was it a pity party then?"
She had set his glass down next to hers and occupied herself with filling them. Now she was done and was forced to face him again. ...It felt a little strange to pick the glass up and return it to him. Emily stood and mirrored him without realizing. They both stood with their arms folded over their chests, bearing their weight to one side.
"Agreed to it?" he scoffed. "Doesn't sound like you really wanted to."
It may have helped to keep in mind that he had polished off cognac and was on his second glass of tequila -all on an empty stomach. The two glasses of tequila she had were probably responsible for her inability to come to that realization. Derek was frustrating her. She owed him an apology but he was creating an environment where it wouldn't look genuine.
"I didn't. Not then." Damn it! Derek immediately unfolded his arms and threw his hands out to his sides, physically chanting 'I knew it!' with the action. Emily threw her hands at her sides and balled her fists, tippy-toeing much like a child does when they are fighting to make a point. "Yes, I've been distant. I kept away from you. I'm sorry. But it didn't have anything to do with not trusting you."
"Oh? What'd it have to do with then, Emily? We were going out after work all the time. It was ME that people assumed you were with. Hell, even Reid thought it. Then you cut me off without any explanation. Weeks go by. Months go by. Suddenly the buzz all around is you're out with Rossi. Not Reid. Not JJ. Not Garcia. David-Fucking-Rossi! When the HELL did he become so damn trust worthy?"
"When Mathew died."
The answer seemed to take all the wind out of his sails. Derek had been roaring like a dragon. His chest puffed out while he spoke with his hands. Her response made him still. All the frustration and resentment seeped from his features. Emily could tell that he wasn't expecting that answer. She could no longer hold the tears back. There was too much emotion involved. In all of it.
"But it isn't your fault... It wasn't anything you did. I did choose him over you. I was wrong for that. It... hurt that you didn't believe me. I took for granted all this time that you were still there even though you didn't believe. It wasn't something I realized until right here and now. And I'm so sorry, Derek-"
"Don't." He cut her off and walked up to her. His hands palmed her face, gently wiping away the wetness that streamed from her eyes with his thumbs. Emily rested her hands at his hips and watched him intently. Her heart stopped. Or at least it felt like it skipped a beat. She felt like a train wreck. The way he looked at her...It wasn't just a longing. She received the understanding that she had so desperately been looking for.
Did he truly understand how sorry she was? How much she appreciated him and his friendship? She wished she could read his mind. However, Emily didn't need that ability to predict what happened next. The room darkened as night fell but she could see his eyes close and the distance dissipate between them. Their lips met and she couldn't bring herself to push him away.
She clutched her hold on his hips and pulled him close until her fingertips ached as much as her heart had. It wasn't long before her mind registered what was pressing into her pelvic bone. A different ache altogether began to stir. The only surprise was how long it had taken. There was much more at stake than scratching an itch. Her arms wrapped around his waist. His arms had already enveloped her torso.
Derek ceased the gentle play at her lips and kissed a trail down her jaw line. There was no mustache tickle as she had experienced recently but the stubble caused a desirable sensation all of its own. Emily slowly found her head thrown back and her neck at his mercy while nearly all her body weight rested in his arms. He didn't stay away from her lips for long.
Their mouths connected again and drowned out what little that voice inside Emily was chanting. They each had so much to release. Almost as much as they had to lose by taking this step. Unlike with Dave, there was little chance that duty would call. And should the man she had seen for a couple of months be the one calling, her cell phone was still sitting on top of her dresser.
Emily didn't think about any of that. She was doing very little thinking. When the back of her legs met with the edge of the bed, she STILL did not think. Even as Derek hovered above her after laying her back on the mattress, there was little thought process. All she had done for months was think. Her hands pulled at his t-shirt and yanked it over his head.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered before lowering himself and kissing her again.
"Mmm...you're not so bad..." yourself. Brain function was returning. There was no mistaking the last time she had said that line. Derek littered a trail of kisses down her cleavage. Emily found herself panting lightly. "Morgan," she managed to call out in a husky voice.
"Derek," he corrected without interrupting his oral ministrations against her skin. She stiffened. Guilt was doing a number on her. Derek stopped and lifted himself in a push-up stance over her again. What little of the moonlight seeped in was plenty to see his face but Emily didn't need it to make out the concern in his eyes. He closed them and rested his forehead gently against hers. "It isn't the alcohol. Or the case. Or some competition with Rossi. ...I need you," he whispered the end, causing the greatest pang she had felt since receiving the news that Mathew died.
He didn't move and attempt to get his way. His forehead slid from hers, aligning temple with temple. Emily wrapped her arms around him and answered by seeking his lips with her own. She didn't know what the simple statement did to change her reservation or how actually speaking Dave's name did not finish deterring her. Maybe it was the safety in knowing Derek was prepared to stop and not hold it against her. But what happened that night was beautiful no matter how conflicted she felt about it in the morning.