A/N: Okay, so this story has been sitting on my computer for a while. It is set around end of season 7, early season 8. I know there are several variations on this time frame, but this one is mine. This also stands as a one-shot, because I think it sits well alone, however, I do have a chaptered story that this serves as a preface to. Also note, this Fic was inspired by the Adele song of the same name.
So Please read and review. I'd love to know what you think. Thanks!
Emily took another sip of her red wine. It was bold and full. It matched what she was feeling now. She watched as Derek did the same. His gaze, also not meeting hers.
It was their last night together in London. He'd be leaving with Garcia in the morning with no set date that they'd see each other again. Garcia had gone out with some friends she knew from her college days that now resided in London. They knew she'd be out until late. They had some time to themselves.
She took another hit. One more swig, but longer this time, nearly draining the glass. It wasn't until she set down the glass against the hard, marble counter top that he glanced in her direction.
She'd moved around enough in life, she knew how it worked. The people you see every day, the thought of them not being with you every single day, their familiarity and presence just gone, seemed gut wrenching. For a while, it may be, but over time that pain would dull. Still there, of course, but more of a dull ache than an open and seeping wound.
"Derek…" She sighed. "I hate this."
His brow furrowed, "Hate what, Emily?" he asked accusingly.
She shrugged. "Goodbyes."
"Then why did you leave?!" he shot back.
Recoiling at first, but grabbing onto any composure she had left, she answered. "Derek, you know why."
Putting his hands up, "Emily, I really don't."
"I told you, Derek, it didn't feel right." She shook her head. "Not anymore."
She'd had too much time to think while she'd been in Paris. Too much time. To miss her team. To miss him. But once she was finally back, it wasn't better. It didn't fit.
"I thought we were friends, Em."
"Friends?! Derek, will I always just be your friend?!" she spat. She regretted the words the moment they'd left her mouth, but it was too late. She couldn't recant.
Both of their chests were heaving in adrenaline-fueled breathing. Each ready for a fight and willing the other to start it.
"Emily… I… I didn't… " he stammered.
"Nevermind, Derek, it doesn't matter." She tried to brush it off, pretending she hadn't said anything. Knowing it wouldn't work.
"No, Emily." He put his glass down more forcefully than he intended. "It matters."
"Why?!" she demanded.
"Because, Emily, you've always mattered! Because I held your hand while you were dying. Because you were the only one that mattered every day for seven months. And just when I thought you were back to stay, you went and moved across the damn ocean."
Her breath caught in her throat. Had her leaving kept him from pursing more with her? No, she decided. He'd had nearly a year since she'd been back and he hadn't made a move.
As though he'd read her mind, he continued. "I thought maybe it was enough. I thought seeing you, just being near you everyday would be enough." His back was now to her as he looked out of her kitchen window over the London skyline. "It clearly wasn't enough."
She instinctually moved behind him, she placed her head on the strong muscles of his back and snaked her arms around his chest. "Derek, I know. I'm so sorry."
He whipped around to face her. It was then that she saw the raw honesty in his eyes. "What do you know, Em?"
"That it wasn't enough. That I wasn't enough." Her eyes continued to search his face.
He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hand behind her ear. Instead of fighting him as he anticipated she would, she relaxed into this touch.
"Emily, you've always been more than enough." And before she knew what was happening, Derek leaned in and placed his lips on hers. Eyes instinctually closing as she pushed back into him.
His hands ran through her hair as her fingertips pressed into the strong muscles on his back.
"Prove it." She demand.
He picked her up, with seemingly little effort, and turned placing her legs on the marble countertop.
She pulled back from him, looking into his eyes.
"Emily…We shouldn't." he stated. Chest heaving. His eyes saying otherwise.
"Please, Derek," she begged. "Just… just make it stop hurting."
With her permission, his lips crashed into hers. He felt her suck in sharply.
He tugged her dress from under her bottom and slid it up over her head, discarding it on the floor.
In turn, she did the same to his tight black T-shirt. Then moved to unbuttoning his jeans as his fingertips traced her porcelain skin, perfectly illuminated in by the city lights.
Tracing his lips down her neck to the top of her cleavage, he expertly unhooked her bra. Sliding it off easily, he continued tracing his tongue down her body.
She aided him in sliding her panties off from under her bottom. He finished pulling them off once they were slid down to her knees, while pulling her to the edge of the countertop.
Letting her head fall back as he continued down, she breathed his name, "Derek."
Only invigorated he continued. She placed one hand on the counter to steady herself, the other she traced over the top of his head.
Suddenly, he pulled back. He brought his face to hers. As he did so, she rand her hands along his taught sides and reached for his boxers, sending them sliding them down his body.
Quickly stepping out the boxers around his ankles, he was hard already as she rand her hands along him, then guiding him into her.
As he stepped forward, she reached around him, grabbing his back once more, feeling his taught chest against her. She wrapped her legs around his firm buttocks, her slender leg pulling him into her. He ran his fingertips over her thighs. He thrust into her as the city lights danced on the night sky.