When Derek Morgan opened the door that evening, he wasn't expecting to find Emily Prentiss on the other side. She looked every bit as awkward as she probably ever was in her entire life and if he wasn't in such a mood, he'd have cracked a joke about how happy he was to find a beautiful woman knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any mood to crack jokes or to even smile...

The team had to overturn every stone to save him, but in the process of doing that, the ugly past he tried so hard to hide from the world was being put up for everyone to see. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed didn't even begin to cover how he actually felt about everyone knowing his secret. He hated the look everyone gave him after his run-in with Carl Buford – they looked at him like an abused and abandoned puppy.

And he hated that.

"Can I come in?"

Morgan remained silent for several moments, watching Emily. She gave him that same look of pity everyone had been giving him, but there was something else in her eyes...she almost looked as if she understood what he was going through. He figured he was probably hallucinating – after all, he really did want someone to understand the situation he was in.

He didn't understand why he did it, but he shrugged and allowed her into his home. His decision surprised Emily and himself. They were both anticipating him asking her to leave.

But once he let her in, she was silent, suddenly at a loss for what to say. She began to wonder if maybe coming here had been a mistake; she'd planned out what she wanted to say on the drive over, but now that she stood face to face with him, the words all seemed tragically inadequate.

After what felt like hours of silence, but was, in reality, only seconds, he sighed heavily, "What do you want?" His tone came off more abrasive than he'd intended, but couldn't make himself care enough to apologize.

"I... Umm... I..." she stuttered. Inwardly, she admonished herself for acting like a complete idiot. She was sure Morgan had more than enough on his hands and he definitely didn't need her to come and ruin his day any more than it already was.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself before speaking up again. "I just wanted to say I..."

"You just wanted to tell me that you're really sorry. You wish something like that never happened," he said frustratedly, as if he were reading from a script. "I've heard that more times than I ever should in my life. I know you're concerned, but please, I don't need your pity."

"That wasn't what I wanted to say," she said softly. "I wanted to tell you that you're not alone. There are a lot of people who care about you and I understand what it's like to have a past you don't want to remember. Everyone has a past like that," she added quietly, looking down at her feet for a moment before looking him in the eye.

"No, they don't," he said gruffly, "Not like this." She opened her mouth to assure him of her empathy, but he didn't let her get a word out. "You don't get it! Nobody gets it! Everybody says they understand, that they know what it's like, but they don't – how could they!"

Her eyes widened in shock at his outburst and she took a step back. "Morgan, I..." she whispered.

"You couldn't possibly know what it's like to have a past that you spend every second of your life ashamed of! So, don't come here, telling me you understand because you don't! You don't have any idea..."

"Just stop!" she snapped, her desire to be the calm and understanding friend he needed right now competing with the urge to smack him upside the head and tell him he wasn't the only one who had suffered tragedy in their life. "I know more than you think..."

"What do you know?" he spat. "You probably had a pretty perfect childhood travelling around the world, enjoying all the privileges I could only..."

He stopped, staring at her in shock, vaguely aware of the stinging sensation of her hand colliding with his cheek.

"You've gone too far," she said in a low, warning tone. "I never had a perfect childhood; I hated my childhood. The so-called privileges you and the rest of the world think I had never existed! I was always lonely because I never had any friends. I never stayed in one place long enough to make one." Her voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes. "I just wanted to fit in. And I was stupid enough to believe that if I did what people wanted me to, they'd be my friends... And because of that I had to have an illegal abortion when I was fifteen."

Instantly, guilt flooded through his chest for lashing out at her when she'd only been trying to help him. "Emily..."

"You know what," she said, shaking her head, flustered, "I should go; coming here was a mistake." She hurried towards the door, anxious to leave, but she stopped and turned back, her hand on the doorknob. "You were so nice to me when I joined the team, I just wanted to do something kind in return, to make you feel better..."

"Emily, wait," he repeated, grabbing her arm, pulling her away from the door and towards him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know... I shouldn't have judged a book by its cover. I just... I'm sorry I acted like a jerk. I was so wrapped up in my own problems, I forgot to think..."

Emily sighed deeply. "Morgan, we all have an ugly past – a past we don't want to remember, a past we wish had never happened, but what's done is done; we can't change it."

She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but looking into his sad brown eyes, she felt the need to comfort him. Reaching her hand up, she gently stroked his cheek, "You're a good guy, whether you believe it or not. I'm sorry it had to happen and I'm even more sorry that everyone knows about it now, but you can't let it affect you."

"How do you not let it affect you?" he asked, sighing, and for the first time since he'd been arrested, he let someone see him vulnerable and broken.

"You learn to live with it, you use it to make yourself a better person," she whispered softly. "We all make mistakes, but brooding on the matter will get you nowhere. You have to put it behind you."

"I'm not sure I know how to do that..." he whispered. "How are you so at peace with what happened to you?"

"It's not always easy," she said softly, "Some days, it's all I think about and I wonder how I ever got past it... But then I remember that I did get through it and I'm stronger because of it...I wouldn't be the same person if it had never happened."

She lightly ran a hand down his arm, recognizing the look in his eyes that said he really wanted to believe her, but couldn't quite manage. "It's not easy when that wound is opened again, but it will heal," she promised, "Just remember that you're not alone. You're a lucky guy, you have your family, friends, the team – everyone cares about you. Don't shut them out..."

"How did you get through it by yourself? You said you didn't have any friends. Your parents never had time for you..."

"I had one good friend at that time," she smiled sadly, "He was with me every step of the way. But after I left Rome, I never saw him again..."

"Was he the one who..." he trailed off.

"He wasn't the father."

Morgan sighed and wrapped him arms firmly around Emily. "I'm sorry for everything, for acting like a jerk," he whispered quietly into her hair, "And thank you, for helping me see that I can get through this..."

She smiled faintly. "What are friends for?"

He made a quiet, almost sad noise in response. "Of all the people I was thinking would knock on my door tonight, I honestly wasn't expecting you..."

"You don't think of us as friends?" she asked in a whisper, suddenly feeling very awkward.

"Of course I do," he assured, "It's just...well, we haven't known each other for very long."

Again, the awkward smile. "You know, of everyone on the team, I'd actually consider you my best friend..."

"Thank you," he whispered softly, "I'm very flattered."

By now, they had realized that they were still pressed up against each other, his hands resting intimately on the swell of her hips while her hands were still resting on his arms. They knew they needed to step away from each other, but they couldn't, almost reluctant to let the contact end.

Unconsciously, Morgan leaned forward and as he did, Emily's eyes fluttered close, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt his breath on her lips.

He couldn't have said what made him do it, what made him ignore the little voice in the back of his mind, but in that moment as he held her tightly, everything she'd said reverberating through his head, all he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

If he were honest with himself, the idea had been niggling at the back of his mind since he'd first met her, but he'd known he couldn't act on the urges. But he couldn't bring himself to care right now.

For a moment, he just took in the sight of her waiting with closed eyes and bated breath, appreciating her beauty. Then, shutting off his mind, he closed the distance between them until his lips brushed against hers. As first, the contact was light, timid almost, but he quickly became more confident, letting all his problems fall away as he lost himself in her kiss.

Keeping one hand on the small of her back, he let his other hand wind in her hair, cradling her head and keeping her close. A shiver ran down his back as her hands gently stroked the back of his neck. She let out a quiet moan, parting her lips, granting him the permission he'd been seeking when he gently ran his tongue over her lips.

As the kiss progressed, she grew bolder. Her tongue tangled with his, moving together in perfect synchrony while her hands explored his toned chest and abs, finding delight in the fact that he felt just as good as he looked. She never thought that there'd be a day where she'd be making out Derek Morgan in the middle of his living room.

Once her brain focused just enough to allow her to realize what they had been doing, she quickly yet reluctantly tore her lips away from his. For several moments, she was too embarrassed to do anything. She could only remain frozen in his arms, staring down at her feet.

"Emily?" he whispered concernedly.

"We can't do this," she whispered, sighing. "We work together."

He cursed himself inwardly upon realizing what she had been talking about. This one kiss could potentially ruin their working relationship, not to mention the budding friendship they had forged. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be, please. It's not your fault," she shook her head. "I should really go."

"We should talk about this..."

"I don't want to. It was just one kiss, we can pretend it never happened," she said, looking at him pleadingly. "You're the first real friend I've had in years and I don't want to to lose you to something stupid like that. Please, just let it go, okay?"

Finally, he relented, sighing, "Okay."

"I'll see you on Monday," she said awkwardly, but somewhat relived as she headed for the door.

He remained in the same spot as he watched her head for the door and, just before she left, he realized that he hadn't told her that she meant as much to him as he did to her. "Wait," he called out before she shut the door. "Look, this doesn't change us. We're still friends and I don't want to lose you either."

"Friends," she smiled softly, her heart warmed by his statement.