Chapter One

Somewhere along the way in the ten years that Emily Prentiss befriended her team at the BAU, she earned the nickname 'Queen of Compartmentalization.' She was always the one to keep her cool during the toughest cases. So she wasn't sure how JJ was able to see right through her façade when she flew in from London to catch Michael Peterson. In the middle of the case, she had pulled the brunette aside to seemingly grill her on her feelings that she somehow didn't even know about.

"You should talk to him."

Emily was dumbfounded by her friend's words, her eyes traveling to the suspect board in front of them. Surely, she didn't mean Peterson, but she felt the need to clarify anyway. "Who? Peterson?"

JJ let out a scoff in response and shook her head, rolling her eyes. The older woman spoke more languages than she could count. She was one of the best profilers the BAU has ever seen, but sometimes JJ noticed that she could be a complete idiot. "No. Derek. You should talk to Derek. After we catch this asswipe, of course."

Emily subconsciously smiled at the mentioning of her former colleague. She suddenly found herself fidgeting with her hands and the look on JJ's face only made her more confused. "Why?"

JJ looked at Emily, her hand covering her mouth to hide her smirk. "Uh, because you're in love with him." It had been a popular topic of discussion between her and the rest of the team when Emily was still in DC, but they had never brought it up with either party they were gossiping about. Until now.

Emily's eyebrows shot up and she let out a snort, obviously amused at the idea of her being in love with her best friend. "With Derek? Yeah, right." She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and they must have turned a noticeable shade of pink because JJ was quick to make a triumphant 'ha!'

"You're blushing. You love him. We all see it, you know." She smiled widely, happy that Emily unwillingly proved her point. JJ noticed the way that Emily talked about Derek when they arrived in New York with Rossi. She wanted to ask the older man if he'd noticed it too, but she hadn't found the time.

"There's nothing to see!" At least, Emily didn't think so. She had a boyfriend, and Derek was married, for Christ's sake. He had a son. She felt a twinge of pain in her heart at the thought of Derek Morgan being committed to someone else. No, Emily. She thought, stuffing her hands in her pockets. It was a nervous habit she picked up after her therapy sessions – a substitute for nail biting. You don't love him. You can't love him.

Was this really what they wasted their free time on? Hers and Derek's relationship? Garcia, she could understand. But the rest of them? Even Hotch? She shook her head. This was ridiculous. She wasn't in love with Derek. She'd just set them straight, that's all. "He's married." Even though JJ knew about Mark, she failed to mention him in her seemingly pointless argument.

"And you have a boyfriend." JJ added pointedly. "Mark." She noticed Emily's facial expressions when she mentioned Mark. There was nothing – no smile, no blushing, no signs of real love. "You should talk to him." She repeated, her voice firmer this time, before leaving Emily in the empty conference room with her thoughts.

Two days later, she found herself in front of Derek's house. Her knuckles were turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, and JJ's words kept running through her mind.

"You love him."

Emily shook her head, attempting to rid it of all thoughts of Derek Morgan. She couldn't. She remembered the last time he held her in his arms. She remembered way conversation came so easily for them, the feeling of strength and safety that she could never seem to find with Mark, the way she caught him looking at her once after the whole Ian Doyle fiasco.

Emily looked up from her paperwork when she felt a pair of eyes on her, turning towards Derek. He turned away quickly, but not quick enough. "What?" She subconsciously reached up to touch her face, afraid that she had been walking around the bullpen with some leftover lunch on her. "Do I have something on my face?"

Derek looked up from his own stack of papers that he suddenly became interested in again, his eyes a mixture of confusion and…embarrassment? "What?" Derek shook his head, his cheeks burning. The floor was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room as he muttered, "No, you're good." You're perfect, he thought.

Emily eyed Derek suspiciously. Maybe something was wrong and he didn't know how to talk about it. Maybe he was just checking to see if she was okay. Ever since she came back, he was more protective of her. He told her once that it was because he couldn't lose her again. She understood. Hotch said it nearly ruined him the first time. She shrugged, deciding to let it go. He would open up when he was ready.

They never brought it up again. And now, there she was, sitting in her car, wondering if all those little things that she had always thought were just Derek being Derek actually meant something to him – meant something to her.

She supposed they did.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Derek mumbled to the unexpected – and extremely persistent – visitor on the other side of the door. Savannah took Hank to visit her parents, so he had the house to himself for the weekend. He was roused out of bed by the doorbell ringing incessantly, and it was then that he planned to give whoever was at his door at 1:00 AM in the pouring rain a piece of his mind. Of course, that all changed when he saw her. "Prentiss." He whispered, his breath caught in his throat.

After a minute of standing in complete silence, she finally spoke. "Are you gonna invite me in? I'm starting to resemble a drowned rat out here."

Derek seemingly snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and opened the door wider for her to come in. He grabbed a towel from the linen closet down the hall and handed it to Emily. "Here. I'll be right back." He went upstairs and emerged a few minutes later to grab two of his t shirts. "You should change into something dry before you get pneumonia." He threw one of the shirts on himself before handing the other one to Emily.

Emily attempted to lighten the mood by making a joke. Apparently, Derek wasn't amused because when she said, "I've gotten worse," his eyes changed from the warm and inviting ones that kept her going in London to cold and angry. She'd never seen those eyes before. She decided she didn't like them. "Sorry." Sometimes she forgot just how much Derek was affected by Ian Doyle.

He nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Third door on your right." He sat down on the couch while he waited for her to change. He sighed, turning on the TV and mindlessly flipping through the channels in an attempt to take his mind off of what the woman in his bathroom wanted.

Emily emerged from the bathroom, wearing the three-sizes-too-big t shirt. Her hair had almost dried, but Derek wasn't sure if that was courtesy of the towel or just her hair. "Thanks." She gave him a small smile, sitting next to him. She frowned when he stood up again, watching him pace around in front of the TV. She'd never seen him like that before. "Derek?"

He stopped in front of her, his eyes trained on hers. He couldn't take it. Being that close to her, feeling the warmth of her body, smelling her perfume – it brought back too many memories. Memories he'd worked so hard to forget. "What are you doing here?"

Emily was silent, taken aback by his reaction. When she told JJ that she was going to see him, the blonde woman insisted that he would be elated to see her again. "I was working a case with the guys. A copycat terrorizing…"

"No." He snapped. The cold and angry eyes were back. "I mean here, in my house. You shouldn't be here."

Emily's heart stung at his words. He was right, though. Who was she to interrupt his new life? She could understand his frustration. She stood quickly, shaking her head and heading towards the door. "You're right. I'll go. I'm sorry to intrude." She had one foot out the door before he grabbed her hand. She quickly turned around, the familiar feeling of home – his hand in hers – enough to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked them away, but not before Derek noticed them.

"Jesus, Prentiss, I didn't mean…" He pulled her to him, closing the door with his bare foot. He held her to his chest, his hand running through her hair. She fit so perfectly in his arms, but he couldn't think about that now. He breathed in the familiar scent of her green apple shampoo, his cheek resting on top of her head. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Believe me, I do." She muttered into his chest before reluctantly pulling away. She still held him at arm's length, craving his warmth. She guessed he felt the same way because he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks softly.

He was the first to pull away, as if he suddenly remembered that he was married. He cleared his throat and avoided her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. "You want a beer?"

"Yes." Emily was a little too quick to answer, causing Derek to chuckle.

"Glad to see London hasn't changed you too much." He walked into the kitchen, Emily following close behind. He grabbed two beers, opening both bottles before handing one to Prentiss.

"Thanks." She smiled gratefully, taking a giant swig of the Budweiser. After a few moments of comfortable silence, she spoke again. "How's Hank?" She noticed how he lit up when she mentioned his son. She couldn't help but smile herself at the thought of Derek as a father. He'd always been good with kids and he had even told her once that he wanted kids so that he could have the chance to be the father that he never had.

"He's perfect. You missed him by a day. Savannah took him to visit her parents."

Emily felt a sense of relief knowing that they had the place to themselves.

Emily wasn't sure how long they spent just talking, but somewhere along the way, they found themselves sitting on the couch once again. This time, though, Derek didn't pull away. They definitely weren't drunk, but Emily was starting to feel a buzz and after four beers, she guessed Derek was feeling the same. She could feel his eyes burning into her and she tried hard to focus on the show playing on the TV. Her stomach was turning and she got that same feeling she had when she danced with him at JJ's wedding. She just didn't realize what it was back then. Leave it to JJ to point out the feelings I never knew I had. She thought, taking another drink of her beer.

"Prentiss." Derek put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Look at me, Emily."

Her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. This was a mistake. Too many people would be hurt if they went through with this. She closed her eyes tightly, ridding them of her tears. It was a combination of the aftereffects of the case and the beer. It was making her an emotional train wreck – more so than usual, anyway. She silently cursed when a single tear slipped down her cheek and it was her turn to pull away from Derek when he reached over to wipe it away. "I'm sorry, I can't…" She stood, only to find herself being pulled back down on the couch a second later.

"Why do you always have to do this, Em?" His own eyes were looking into hers and she noticed they were filled with pain and sorrow. "Why can't you just let me in?" He stopped and gazed at her. He could see the tears she was trying not to shed. Before he could process what was happening, she looked away quickly, her entire body shaking with quiet sobs.

He hesitantly put a hand on her back, rubbing it in soothing circles. He wasn't sure if it was something he said or if she was upset over something else. Either way, he hated it. He's seen decapitations, rape – hell, he's seen dead bodies nailed to crosses – but he realized that nothing was as bad as seeing Emily Prentiss cry. "Hey, come on. I'm sorry." He just wanted her to stop crying. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest.

"It's not you." Emily mumbled between sobs, her head in her hands. She wasn't about to tell him that the reason for the waterworks was because the enormity of her mistakes hit her like a ton of bricks. She collected herself enough to form a sentence, looking at Derek. "It's just been a long couple of weeks."

Derek nodded, eying her suspiciously. He didn't believe it for a second – sure, he was no longer a profiler, but the ability to read people – especially Prentiss – didn't just go away for him. He searched her tear-streaked face for anything that might give away the reason for her emotional distress.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. She was sorry, but not for Derek. For Savannah, Hank, Mark. She needed to leave before she lost control of her emotions completely. The look of concern and complete kindness on his face was enough to break her. "I should never have come here. I just needed to see…"

Derek sighed, deciding enough was enough. He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer and crashing his lips against hers. He closed his eyes, taking in the taste of Emily Prentiss – his Prentiss. He'd dreamed about this moment for so long but it was so much better than he could ever have imagined. Her lips were soft and they tasted like coconut. His hands were tangled in her hair and her arms were around him, her warm fingers rubbing the back of his neck.

Emily was so stunned that she didn't know how to react. She knew she should pull away, but her lips were chapped from the cold and the feel of his lips against hers was intoxicatingly warm. She was too tired to fight anymore. She pulled him closer and sank against him, letting him have his way. The kiss felt so short, and when Derek finally pulled away, she wanted more. "You." She finished, staring at him with wide eyes. It was her who leaned in this time, their lips colliding once again. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony and Emily, as guilty as she felt, couldn't pull away.

He smiled against her lips when she started moaning against his. Her hands suddenly lowered from around his neck to his arms, his chest. He wasn't sure who first initiated it, but soon they were tugging at each other's clothes. He pulled her closer so that she was situated on his lap before standing, her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her to the bedroom and carefully set her down on the bed. He pulled away and walked to the other side, chuckling at the noise of protest that came from the woman when their lips were no longer connected.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down on the bed, scooting closer to him before connecting their lips once again. All thoughts of his family and Mark left her mind, consumed with the feeling of salvation that only Derek seemed to make better.