Author's Note: I was watching "Lo-Fi" the other day when this idea hit me. I've been thinking of writing a Morgan/Emily story...nothing M rated, or anything, but I've been experimenting. So, in the bar scene, I thought, "What if it wasn't Dave who came to talk to him? What if it was Emily?" And that's how this little story bloomed. Enjoy, my friends. (:

Disclaimer: I wish I owned it.

Derek Morgan sat in the near empty hotel bar, a tall, untouched glass of beer sitting on the counter-top in front of him. There were only two other people in the room with him. One was the bartender, and the other was a tall, blond haired man talking to a woman on his cellphone. Whether it was his mom, sister, girlfriend, or wife, Morgan didn't know, but at least her had someone to talk to.

Morgan had no one. No one who would understand him, that is. Leaning forward so his arms stretched out onto the counter, he laid his head on his hands. Why was this affecting him so much?

Why did rejection have to hurt so badly?

He was so busy thinking intently that he didn't notice the woman who had come to sit by him.

"Could I have a glass of chardonnay, please?" she asked the bartender. Morgan didn't register her voice until she called his name. "Derek."

He looked up slowly. It was Emily.

"Emily," he said. "What are you doing here?"

She ignored his question. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that," she said softly. "I can tell that something is bothering you. So, you might as well tell me."

"You won't understand," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"If it has anything to do with Hotch and Joyner, I will," she said astutely.

Morgan looked at her. How did she know? Had he been that obvious? What did she think of him now? Did she think that he was an idiot for making too big a deal out of things? He sighed. "Yeah. It does."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emily asked. At his silence, she added, "If you don't want to, you don't have to; we can talk about something else, or I can just leave." She paused before saying sincerely, "But, if you do want to talk…I'm all ears. And I'll stay here for as long as you need."

"What have I done to deserve a friend like you, Emily?" he wondered aloud.

She smiled. "I think that all the time. Now start talking."

His demeanor sobered immediately. "I don't get Hotch sometimes," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine.

"He…I don't know how to put it."

"Try."

"He says he's there for everyone on the team. To back us up, to support us. And he has been, so far. But on this case…" His voice drifted away.

"He isn't," she supplied.

"Yeah. He tells us to remain levelheaded so we can solve the case faster. But he isn't levelheaded. He tells me to remain focused…but every time I look at him, all his focus is on her." He scoffed. "Liaised in Scotland Yard, my ass. Have you noticed that she looks -"

"Exactly like Haley?" Emily interrupted.

"Spitting image," he agreed. "Minus the accent, they're basically twins." He sighed in exasperation. "It's just…I know I was right! If we had been posted in the main subway stations, one less victim would be dead. Hotch doesn't understand; I'm not vying for Kate's job, I'm just trying to catch the unsub! And then he tells me to take a walk…"

She shook her head. "It's all just so messed up…" She stopped mid-sentence. "What do you mean, vying for her job?"

"Hotch said that if Kate didn't find the unsub and solve the case, they would replace her. And apparently, I'm on the list of possible candidates."

Emily was stunned. "Wow. Really?" He nodded. "Would you? You know, leave, and be in charge for once?" she asked half-heartedly.

"I don't know. It would be nice, but it would be extremely stressful. I mean, look at Hotch. The man doesn't smile. We literally have to drag him to restaurants or bars with us. He has no social life," Morgan said truthfully.

"Except with that tramp…" Emily murmured under her breath.

Morgan looked at her intently. "You don't like her either," he stated plainly.

"Are you kidding me? 'Oh, Aaron, could I see you alone in my office for a minute?'" she imitated in a mock British accent. "I hate her."

"Same here."

"And the worst part? He follows her around like a lovesick puppy!" she spat angrily.

Morgan watched as she finished the rest of her wine and turned away from him. He had known it all along; she liked Hotch. A lot. "Why does that make me jealous?" Morgan thought. He took in her perfect figure. V-neck red blouse, formfitting black slacks, and knee-high leather boots…there was no denying that she looked beautiful. And he had noticed her before, but he kept his feelings at bay. After all, she was his colleague. And office relationships were banned. Not just frowned upon; banned. Realizing that he had been quiet for way too long, he spoke. "I agree. It's like he doubts my instincts because of her. He doesn't trust my input on this case. I mean, does he think that I'm a lousy profiler, or something?"

That caught Emily's attention. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, "Hey. Look at me. You're an amazing profiler, and an equally as good agent. You're great at what you do, and Hotch notices that. We all do. And we appreciate it. Don't let Joyner get to your head."

He looked up at her in appreciation. "Thanks, Emily. It really means a lot."

"No problem," she said, shooting him a sweet smile.

"And about Joyner…that's going to be pretty hard for me."

She sighed and her smile fell. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

Morgan finally met the eyes of the female agent. He knew that she had strong feelings for their boss, and he knew that Joyner's presence was making her jealous.

But it was also causing a frown to don her usually smiling face, and Morgan desperately wanted to make her smile again.

So, he did the only thing that he could think of.

The one thing that he had been wanting to do for ages.

He leaned forward and kissed her.