Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.

Any Given Moment is a new collection of stories much like my Maze of Moments series. Each chapter will be its own story, though some may connect to one another. Some will be stories that follow up to my longer stories, and some will be new stand-alone stories. Please enjoy.

This first one is a holiday-themed follow-up to Constant.

Keeper

By
N. J. Borba

Derek tried to be as quiet as possible as he keyed the lock, pushed the door in and dropped his go bag in the hall. He closed the door and headed for the stairs, easily finding his way through the darkened halls of their home. It had been Emily's condo before he came along, but it had become their home together with little Stella. At the top of the stairs he was torn as to who he wanted to check on first, his baby girl or the beautiful woman who was sure to be in bed this late at night.

He settled on the baby first, knowing he'd then be able to snuggle up next to Emily and sleep until dawn.

The baby's room was dark except for the yellow shooting star nightlight plugged into an outlet across the room. It cast enough light for Derek to see there was no little one tucked into her crib. A smile spread across his face as he retreated and headed to his bedroom. He couldn't help recall the nights he'd slept in Emily's bed, her downstairs on the sofa. Or the first night they'd shared the bed, purely platonic until he'd woken with her head nestled against his chest.

Now he found her on her side of the bed with little Stella bundled on his side. The baby's eyes were open at half-mast and she cooed softly while wrestling against the blue and yellow blanket swaddled around her. Morgan shed his shoes and sunk down on the bed, one hand instantly placed against the baby's chest. He kissed her forehead. "Hello, little one," he whispered. "Did you keep mommy company while I was gone?"

Emily groaned, revealing herself to be awake. She turned to face them. "I thought we agreed not to call each other mommy and daddy," she was awake enough to roll her eyes at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips before he leaned forward and pressed them again Emily's. "Good to see you, too," Derek whispered.

"Missed you," she confessed.

His smile returned. "I'd never say it to your face like some people do."

"Good," she waged a tired finger at him before her hand came to rest against his on the baby's chest. "I won't let you forget."

"I'm sure," he nodded. His eyes slid down to the baby again. "Does she need a bottle or a change?" Derek inquired. "Or can I put her in her own bed so we can sleep?"

She rolled over to glance at the alarm clock. "I fed her a half hour ago, but she might need changing. I can do it," Emily offered.

"I'm already up. You stay put," Derek insisted. He spotted a few diapers and some wipes on the nightstand. Flipping on the light, Derek decided to check the baby's diaper where she was and then walk her to the room, hoping the rock-n-walk method would have her asleep by the time they reached her crib. Derek untangled her from the blanket and grinned at her outfit. "Emily, I think our daughter has been attacked by reindeer," he noticed the tiny fuzzy antlers on the footy part of her pajamas.

Something between a yawn and a laugh escaped Emily's throat "That would be one of several new outfits Garcia bought recently. You should see some of the other Christmas themed baby things she got for Stella. I never knew baby girl dresses could have so much glitter on them."

He laughed softly, managing to reach the girl's diaper. "A wet one," Derek noted, expertly removing and replacing it with a dry one. Nearly five months in and they were really starting to get the hang of parenting. At least the diapers and feeding part, which they figured was most important at Stella's development stage. With the girl changed and swaddled again, Derek held her in his arms. "Say goodnight to your Emily," he looked down at the half-asleep woman in bed. "I'm sorry, it just doesn't sound right not to call you mommy."

"Fine," Emily agreed. She closed her eyes fully, but couldn't help smile as she heard Derek begin to sing while he paced the long hallway. He performed a horrible rendition of: Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. It was the one tune that always helped Stella fall sleep no matter who sang it, or how poorly.

This time it helped Emily nod off as well.

xxx

Emily could hear the baby's cries through the monitor near her head. It was stuffed under a pillow and still Stella could be heard loud and clear. She looked to the clock and was surprised to find that only an hour had passed since Derek had tucked the baby in. Comfy in Morgan's embrace for the first night in a week, the last thing Emily wanted was to get out of bed. But she knew Derek had been working a case for the last six days and was probably going to be dead to the world for several hours yet.

She was startled when his arm tightened about her waist as she tried to break free. "Let her cry," he mumbled against her ear.

"What?" Emily wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

He reluctantly gave in to the wakeful state of his body and moved his chin to rest against her shoulder. "She's almost five-months-old, she ate not too long ago and I changed her. Maybe we should let her cry it out for a while," Derek reiterated his suggestion.

"But, I…" she was hesitant to the idea.

"You what?" he prodded, still sleepy but more alert than a minute ago. "Plan to spoil her for the rest of her life?" Derek didn't let the question dangle long. "Which is what you do every time you instantly go to her when she cries," he concluded.

A defensive sigh left her lips, even though he was right. "And I suppose you carting her all over the place isn't helping to spoil her?" Emily countered. "She's never going to learn how to crawl or walk if you carry her everywhere."

"I don't get to spend as much time with her as you do. When I am home I want to keep her close," Derek countered. "So, yes, I probably am guilty of spoiling her, too. And the last thing I want to do right now is have a parenting argument with you. I'm tired and I missed you like crazy. I don't want to be upset with you."

Those words tugged at Emily's heart. She pressed her hand against his at her waist then brought it to her lips to kiss his sturdy, slightly rough fingers. "I'm sorry." Emily stayed in his embrace for several more minutes as Stella's cries continued to filter through the baby monitor. "I just can't, Derek. She's so little and I keep thinking about the silent promise I made to her when she was born, to always keep her safe."

Hearing a rare tone of vulnerability in her voice, he wavered. "Okay," his arms slacked. "Go to her." Derek watched her throw a robe on over her sleep shirt and dash for the door. "But if she can't walk into the classroom on her first day of school, you get to carry her," he warned in a playful voice.

He was almost asleep again when Emily rushed back into the room with the squalling baby in her arms.

"She's warm, Derek," Emily settled on the bed. Stella had no blanket now, just her fleece reindeer pajamas.

"Maybe she just needs lighter sleepwear," he suggested.

Emily unsnapped the pajamas and placed her hands against the girl's forehead. "I think it's more than that. A fever maybe? I took her out a few days ago. I know it was freezing, but I've been so cooped up in this place and…"

"Hey," Derek sat up. "Calm down," he could tell Emily wasn't just caught in a needlessly worried mommy moment. "Why don't you get the thermometer in her room and we'll check if there's anything to worry about." It quickly became clear she had no plans to let go of the baby so Derek got up and retrieved the thermometer. After softly pressing it against the baby's ear he realized they might have cause for concern. "101," he read. "Could it be teething?"

Her head shook. "Contrary to popular belief, fevers rarely have anything to do with teething." Emily finally passed the girl to Derek. "I'm calling that all night nurse's number at the hospital." She was already dialing before he could protest.

Derek cradled his daughter as he listened to Emily's one-sided conversation. Stella's dark hair was sweat-slick and clinging to her head. She'd stopped crying loudly, her lament petering out into a whimper that signified her discomfort. When Emily ended the call he could see confusion flicker in her eyes. "What?" he prodded.

"She doesn't seem that concerned," Emily revealed. "Apparently, if it is a cold then the fever is probably helping her fight it off. However, if Stella continues to be upset and can't sleep then the nurse said we should get her an over-the-counter fever reducer. I wrote some of the suggested ones down and I think we should go pick them up now in case Stella feels worse as the night progresses. There's that all night pharmacy on tenth."

He nodded. "So, you'll go and I'll stay with the baby."

Emily's eyes widened. "I don't want to leave her."

"Then I'll go and you stay with Stella," Derek was about to hand the baby off to her.

"No," her head shook. "What if something happens while you're gone and I don't know what to do? And what if you don't know what to buy?"

A deep breath was taken. "So I'll stay with her and you go," he repeated.

"What if something happens here and you don't know what to do?" Emily posed.

Morgan tried very hard not to laugh. "Why don't all three of us go," he concluded.

xxx

Derek parked the SUV. Neither one of them had been ready to dive into the mini-van driving life, at least not yet. They only had one kid; the SUV had plenty of room. He removed his seat belt and was about to exit the vehicle when Emily's hand clamped down on his left wrist. "You should stay in the car with the baby. I don't want her out in the cold even for the minute it will take to get inside the store."

"But you…" he stopped short, realizing that pointing out the fact he could've just stayed at home with the baby would be useless at this point. "Okay," Derek agreed.

She walked into the pharmacy knowing Derek probably thought she was nuts, but her mind quickly returned to the task at hand. Emily easily found the baby cold care section and was then confronted with more than just the two fever reducers the nurse had suggested. In fact there seemed to be dozens. With different flavors and dosage instruction. Emily began to rethink her ability to be a full-time mom as she struggled for ten minutes on what medicine to buy.

Emily ended up making her way to the checkout with five different varieties. "Better safe than sorry," she mumbled to herself as she approached the checker.

"Whoa," the checker shook her head, just standing there for a moment not scanning the items.

With narrowed eyes, Emily noticed the checker was a young woman; skinny with blonde hair and rainbow dyed bangs. "Something wrong?"

"You're like… in a bathrobe and your hair is all nasty," the girl replied, slowly scanning the first item.

The glare in Emily's eyes was aimed at the girl's colorful hair. "It is five days until Christmas, five days until my in-laws roll into town. And I've gotten a grand total of forty-five minutes of sleep tonight, if even that much," she snapped. "I have baby slobber and spit-up caked in my hair because I was too tired yesterday to bother showering, and my daughter is in the car right now with a fever, which is why I'm here at 2:30 in the morning in my robe. So… I suggest you stop judging and move a little faster, Rainbow Bright," Emily demanded.

"Sor…rry," the young woman drew out the word and finished the transaction.

Emily was miffed by the checker's attitude, but she forgot about the woman as soon as she exited the store. Back home, they checked Stella again to find that her temperature was the same. And she was still pretty cranky so they gave her medicine and a bottle and eventually rocked her back to sleep. Emily remained seated in the rocker in Stella's room while Derek leaned against the wall beside her. "Maybe we should get some rest, too?" he suggested.

"I don't want to leave her," Emily said. She was quiet for a long time after that.

"What's bothering you?" Derek finally asked, reaching out to run a finger along her cheek.

She shrugged. "Nothing… just worried about the baby. And your mom and sisters will be here in a few days. Unless you think we should call off Christmas because Stella's sick."

"I think Stella will be fine by Christmas," he assured. "And my mom's not going to miss her first Christmas even if Stella is still sick." Derek watched as those words had a dramatic effect on Emily. At least dramatic in a manner only he could notice. The subtle way her dark eyes narrowed and her lips formed a tiny pout. "Have you heard from your mother yet?"

Her head shook just an inch. No words were forthcoming.

"Em," he sighed, knowing he'd touched on the real cause of her bad mood. "It's her fault for not wanting to acknowledge Stella, not yours."

"You don't understand," she replied, but was reluctant to say any more. The room fell quiet again, aside from the slightly raspy breathing of their daughter. "Not a single word," Emily finally spoke again. "I sent her one of the birth announcements. And I sent her the holiday card a few weeks ago, with that picture of the three of us. And… nothing. Almost five months and she doesn't even bother to call."

Derek thought about the picture she'd mentioned. It was of him and Emily each kissing one of Stella's chubby cheeks, and the little girl radiating a joyful smile. Garcia had taken the picture at her Thanksgiving feast. It was hard to imagine anyone seeing that picture and not being moved by it. "I'm sure she's just…" but even Derek couldn't think of a viable reason why Emily's mother showed no interest in her daughter's life.

"I sent Harold Mallon and his wife one of the holiday cards with the same picture," Emily said. "His wife, Kay, sent us a card telling us how gorgeous Stella is. A complete stranger has the decency to reply, but not my mother."

His brows bunched for a moment. "Who are Harold and Kay Mallon?"

Emily frowned at him. "Harold, the beef jerky truck driver who rescued us outside of Erwin, Tennessee," she hoped to jog his memory.

He was instantly reminded of the shipping container Cavitch had sent them off in. "Right," Derek nodded. "That was really thoughtful of you to send them a card," he was once again reminded how wonderful she was, which didn't take much. He wished her mother could see that.

"I've been meaning to send him a thank you note for ages," Emily noted. "Christmas seemed like a good time to do it."

Even though their conversation had taken a slight turn, Derek could still see her mother's lack of contact was weighing on Emily's mind. "Maybe we should invite your parents to Christmas brunch?" he suggested. "If they say no then we can write them off for good," he tried to make a small joke of it.

"I just wish they weren't so judgmental," she growled, keeping her voice soft so as not to rouse the baby. "So… bigoted."

Derek's stomach churned. "You think this is all because of Stella and me being black?"

"What? No," Emily turned to face him. "No, Derek," she instantly squashed that idea. "My parents can be a pain in the ass, but I've never thought for a second it was because of that. They're diplomats, they've lived and worked with dozens of other races. They speak multiple languages," she continued to try calming his fears. "I think it has more to do with the fact that Stella is not my child. At least not biologically."

"That makes no sense," he did feel at ease over what she'd said about her parents not likely being bigoted about race. Derek had been reluctant to think that in the first place. "They know what happened when you were a teenager. They know you can't have a child naturally."

She chuckled dryly. "A little detail like me having a hysterectomy wouldn't stop my mother from wanting a biological grandchild."

His heart broke a little to think that was true. Derek loved how much his mother had made Emily a part of their family right from the start. And it hurt a great deal to know he might never get that from Emily's family. But it bothered him even more to know how much her parent's behavior was hurting Emily. "I'm sorry," he bent over to kiss her cheek and then her lips. "It's their loss," Derek insisted.

Emily squeezed his hand and nodded. Then she insisted Derek get some rest. After he agreed and slipped out of the room, she let herself doze off. She spent the rest of the morning in the rocking chair in Stella's nursery, sleeping off and on. That's where Derek found her the next morning. He kissed Emily's forehead and watched her stir.

"How is Stella?" she asked groggily.

Derek held the thermometer in his right hand. "99.3," he revealed. "Go get some sleep."

With little reluctance left, Emily stood and wobbled her way back to bed.

Hours later, Emily found Derek in the nursery with Stella in his arms. He looked up with a smile, noticing that her hair was matted to one side. "Her temperature is still hanging around 99," Derek reported. "And she's been sneezing, but still in much better spirits."

"Then it must just be a cold," Emily was relieved, placing her palm against the baby's forehead. "Guess I'm not the most horrible mother in the world for taking her out into the cold the other day," she shrugged.

"Not even close to being the worst mother in the world," Derek insisted. "There are at least a few dozen in line ahead of you," he chuckled. "But you might want to think about washing your hair someday… soon," he added.

She plucked Stella from his arms and then tossed something in his lap while she moved across the room to change the baby's diaper.

"What is this," he opened what appeared to be a card. Inside was a picture framed in red velvet paper. Derek's eyes lit up when he regarded the photo. Emily was seated on Santa's lap with Stella in her arms. The baby clothed in a frilly green and red dress, Emily with a red sweater on. "This is the best Christmas gift ever," he let her know.

Emily smiled. "Hopefully next year Stella will be willing to sit on Santa's lap by herself. I felt like an idiot. And apparently exposed our daughter to this cold."

He propped the picture on Stella's dresser then wrapped his arms around Emily's waist from behind her. "I think you sitting on Santa's lap is sexy as hell," Derek softly purred in her ear. "Maybe I can rent a Santa suit and you'll sit on my lap?"

"I'd sit on your lap even if you were naked," Emily teased. "Preferably if you were naked."

"You know," Derek sighed, trying to calm his libido. "I can't wait till my mom gets here, because I am taking you away for at least a day so we can be alone."

She smiled. "Now that sounds like the best Christmas gift ever."

xxx

Two days before Christmas, Emily was wishing for that alone time with Derek even more than usual. But he was at work while she tried to look after a sick baby and bake cookies and wrap presents and blow up the inflatable mattress for Fran who would be bunking in the nursery. His sisters insisted on a hotel room, though, which was fine with Emily. She bounced Stella on her left hip as the baby rubbed snot all over Emily's shirt sleeve. Then she pulled out a sheet of sugar cookies only to find they were completely charred.

"Just five months ago I was chasing down bad guys with your daddy," Emily told the baby. "And I was good at that. Very good. Baking cookies… I am not good at. This being a domestic goddess business is way out of my league," Emily scoffed. "You're just lucky you're cute and look like your daddy, else I never would've given up chasing bad guys to change diapers."

The doorbell rang.

Emily's eyes lit up. "Maybe that's Martha Stewart, come to rescue me," she continued to speak to the baby. When she opened the door to find her mother standing there, her jaw nearly dropped. "That's not Martha Stewart, not by a long shot," Emily whispered to the girl in her arms.

"Hello," Elizabeth greeted.

It seemed such a simple word, but Emily found it hard to return. "Hello," she mustered with some effort.

"May I come inside?"

"Oh, right," Emily stepped aside allowing her mother entrance. As soon as she closed the door the smell of burnt cookies assaulted her nostrils again. "Sorry, there was a failed cookie experiment," she explained, leading her mother past the kitchen and into the living room. She sat on the sofa with Stella still clinging to her side while her mother took a seat on a chair across from them. Emily noticed a gift bag clutched in one hand. "Didn't expect to see you today."

Liz nodded. "Your father and I have been busy."

"Busy?" Emily mulled over that vague word. "You've been too busy to stop by for a few minutes to meet your granddaughter?" she snapped. "No, sorry, I probably shouldn't call her that. I doubt you want anything to do with her."

"That's not true," Elizabeth tried to smooth things over. "It's just difficult for me… for us… to…"

Biting down on harsher words, Emily filled in the blanks, "Hard for you to love a child that isn't genetically linked to me, or to you?"

Elizabeth felt sick. "That's what you think?" She sat silent for a moment. "Emily, your father and I like our work very much. The last few years have been difficult without diplomatic assignments for either of us. We wanted a child, wanted you, but we've never been very good at parenting. I assume you've already figured that out," she paused again. "I doubt we'll do much better at being grandparents, but not even trying is pretty pathetic don't you think? Especially since we've been given this chance we never thought possible."

It was not the explanation Emily had been expecting. "Yeah," she nodded.

"Well, I…" Liz held the gift bag out. "This is my first effort. A gift for the baby."

"Stella," Emily replied. "Her name is Stella."

"Yes, I know," her mother said. "I did read the birth announcement. And the Christmas card. The picture of the three of you was… it was lovely. Thank you."

Emily was inclined to think her mother had been replaced by an alien, but she tried to stuff down that silly thought as she looked inside the bag. With Stella still pressed to her side, she carefully pulled the gift free. Emily smiled at the item. "Look, Stella," she showed the girl the box.

"It's meant to hang on the crib," Liz explained. "I've never seen one before but the lady at the store said they're perfectly safe. It lights up and plays a song."

"Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," Emily read on the side of the box. "It's great. She loves that song. We sing it to her a lot. Thank you, mother."

Liz smiled. "With her name and your love of stars, I figured it might be okay. I wasn't sure what to get. Kid's things have changed a lot since you were little. And the nanny usually bought most of your things," she confessed. Her eyes settled on Stella and she smiled again. "Do you think I could hold her."

"Um," Emily froze for a moment. She was still a bit stymied by the fact her mother knew she loved stars. "Yeah, sure," she remained hesitant, but figured it was worth a try. After setting the box down, Emily encouraged her mother to move to the sofa so she'd be closer. With that accomplished, she handed the baby over.

The older woman held Stella at arm's length for a moment. She then pulled her closer so the baby was against her chest. That's when Stella decided to sneeze.

Emily bit her lip, watching the snot trailing from her daughter's nose. "I'm sorry," she sprang to her feet and grabbed a burp cloth. "She caught a cold a few days ago, but she's much better now. I should've warned you, though," Emily wiped Stella's nose and then did her best to clean the snot off her mother's navy blazer. "Great one, kiddo. Destroy your grandmother's clothing the first time you meet her."

"It's no worse than what's dried on your sleeve," Liz pointed out.

Glancing at the stiff hem of her t-shirt sleeve, Emily actually laughed. Even with her botched cookies, a sick baby and an awkward visit from her mother, she was in good spirits. "They don't tell you about becoming a human snot rag when you take a baby home from the hospital," she remarked.

A laugh escaped Liz's mouth. "No, they don't." She watched her daughter take the baby and continue to clean the child's nose. "You're very good with her. When I heard you'd given up your career to raise another woman's child I was worried about you. But this seems to come natural to you."

"She's still breathing," Emily shrugged. "I take that as a good sign."

"No," Liz put a hand against her daughter's forearm. "Do not doubt yourself, Emily. I can see that you're already a better mother than I ever was."

Not sure how to take those words, Emily shrugged again. "It still freaks me out some days," she confessed. "I was good at my job chasing down serial killers. But I'm almost always afraid of doing something wrong in regard to Stella. Feeding her too much, or too little. Dropping her," she chuckled. "But…" her thoughts turned darker. "What scares me most is that she'll grow up some day and wish her real mom was the one raising her."

"I doubt that will happen," again Liz tried to be a comfort.

And Emily found she was reassured. "What about the day she asks what happened to Tamara? What do I tell her then?"

"I suppose the truth," Elizabeth replied.

Emily nodded, taking a deep breath. "Derek's mom and sisters are coming for Christmas," she informed her mother, desperate to change the subject to something lighter. "They'll be here tomorrow morning, hence the reason I'm trying to Martha Stewart up the joint. And failing miserably," she admitted. "Anyhow, Derek and I would really like you and dad to come for Christmas brunch. If you want to."

Liz nodded. "I'd like that."

xxx

Emily stood at the edge of her living room, watching over her family Christmas afternoon. Fran and Derek's sisters were huddle together on the sofa, relaxed, eating cookies and sipping tea. They all seemed perfectly happy with the store bought cookies she'd purchased after her failed baking experiment. She was brought back to the scene before her at the sound of her father's laugh. It seemed almost foreign to her. He was always outspoken, but laughter had been rare in their house.

Her eyes settled on Stella who was seated on Liz's lap.

The little girl leaned against her grandmother's arm and was staring up at the woman, seemingly mesmerized. Even more wonderful was the look of adoration in her mother's eyes while gazing at the baby. Emily quickly grabbed the point and shoot digital camera that was resting on a nearby table. She stepped toward the crowd just a little, not wanting them to notice her. Emily aimed, focused and snapped the picture. Her mother and Stella remained oblivious, still caught in their moment.

"That one is a keeper," Derek said as his arms snaked about her waist and he glanced at the picture on the camera screen.

She gave a quick nod, relaxing against him. "Funny," Emily replied. "That's what I say about you all the time."

The End