An/ Enjoy.
"Hey wifie." Morgan teased as he and JJ unpacked the moving van. "What are you going to make me for lunch?"
"Oh my." JJ said, rolling her eyes. "I can already tell you that this is going to be a long three months."
"Please Mrs. Montgomery." Morgan taunted suggestively as he carried a large box labeled Books. "I know that I can make this worth your while."
"Please, Sweetie..." JJ countered grabbing a lamp from the large moving van. "With an attitude like that, you're going to be sleeping on the couch for three months."
"Give me the shut out? That's cold Baby Girl." Morgan laughed, fully realizing that he was going to be cohabiting with a lively one for the next few months.
"Don't let your girlfriend here you say that." JJ whispered wickedly, opening the door to their small, yellow house for the first time. She took a good look at it, soaking in every detail. This was easily a place she could live. It was Morgan who was going to make this difficult. Deep down, very deep down, JJ was grateful that while she was in this predicament, she at least got to bond with one of her more entertaining coworkers. That however, didn't stop her from wanting to bash his head in.
"What Garcia doesn't know can't get her computer wires in a twist." Morgan chuckled, brushing off JJ's deviousness.
"Be careful." JJ warned in a sing-song voice, then added in a hushed whisper "she's listening."
Morgan shuddered involuntarily as JJ let out a small cackle.
"Do you really think she's listening?" Morgan asked his tough, macho tone. The tone he only used when he was worried.
"I wouldn't put it past her." JJ smiled, realizing that this might not be so bad after all.
"Lets just get this over with." Emily mumbled as she stood aimlessly in an aisle of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. She aimed the register gun, and pretended to shoot it as though she was in a western film."There is no fun like that of registering for your fake wedding."
"How are we supposed to keep our cover if you tell everyone its a fake wedding?" Hotch whispered in her ear, gently trying to nudge the gun on of her hand. Emily with any form of a fire arm scared him, even if it didn't shoot bullets.
"Ooo, look at it." Emily said, stopping in front of a small, golden statue. "That could be cool."
"Its a pig." Hotch said, his eyebrow quirked questioningly.
"Its awesome." Emily corrected, trying to take back the register gun from her 'fiance'. "Come on."
"What is the functionality of a golden pig?" Hotch countered gruffly, holding the gun closer to him to keep it out of her reach.
"Its art." Emily shrugged, doing her best defensive basketball impression in order to get the gun in her capable hands. She could tell already that Hotch must have no taste for the luxury.
"Its strange." Hotch said delicately, retaining his death grip on the previously harmless piece of machinery.
"Please, come on." She begged, giving him her best puppy dog look. He however, grew resilient and did not give into her pouting.
"Its not going to work." He insisted firmly, walking over to the kitchenware section. "Besides, who would buy you a golden pig for a wedding?"
"Garcia comes to mind." Emily answered truthfully, trying to swat the gun down as he held it over her head. "Why isn't my pathetic, pleading face going to work for you? Huh? It works for JJ."
"It does not." Hotch retorted lamely as Emily let out an expectant sigh. "It really doesn't."
"And that's how we ended up taking that case in Colorado Springs that had a whopping one potential victim." Emily muttered under her breath as Hotch stopped right in front of the dishes. She suddenly grew very excited, plates were something they definitely needed, and he really couldn't say no to. At this point, the only thing they had managed to agree on was a set of bathtowels that were beige. Emily wanted them because they could give a neutral spin on a funky, contemporary decor while Hotch liked them because they were the first thing Emily had looked at that didn't make him feel like taking an Aspirin.
"What about these?" He said hopefully, holding a white, basic plate.
"Those are kind of boring." Emily said, still looking around. "We want something that makes a statement."
"These make a statement." Hotch retorted. "They say 'eat off of me.' What more are you looking for?" He tried to stop himself from rolling his eyes. At work, Emily was always moderately quiet and dressed fairly conservative. How was he supposed to know that when it came down to it, she was almost as bad as Garcia?
"Those have no..." Emily began, searching for the right word to make him understand. "pow"
"And we want 'pow', from plates?" Hotch questioned skeptically. He was trying to keep his derisive laughter to a minimum, but Emily was sorely tempting his patience.
"Glad you get the idea." Emily said mindlessly, still looking for the perfect dish set. Her eyes grew wide as she saw them, the perfect ones! Suddenly it was as though cherubims and joined into a the hallelujah chorus and guided her to her true love. "These are awesome!"
"They have pictures of fruit on them." Hotch scoffed as she picked one up to show him. "impressionist fruit."
"Its to highlight the irony of them." Emily said, not allowing her minor in Art Appreciation to go unnoticed.
"Plates can be ironic?" Hotch said, unsure of whether she was serious or just trying to punish him for making her go undercover. He held the register gun protectively, keeping it far out of her reach.
"Give it over honey." Emily said with a sweet smile.
"Leah." Hotch said, using Prentiss's cover name for the first time. "No."
"Carson." She retaliated. "Is this really the best way to start out a marriage? Come on, just give it."
"I can't in good conscience allow anyone to buy those plates." Hotch said, only partly joking. This was starting to frighten him quite a bit. He didn't know if he could actually live and breath for the next three months knowing that he was in eyesight of those plates.
"Seriously, you are so stubborn." Emily sputtered, a little irritated. "Hey look there, on the ceiling." She tried while he just stared at her.
"You really thought that was going to work?" He said sarcastically, folding his arms the same way her father used to.
"It was worth a shot." She said sheepishly. "You can't blame me for trying."
"I can already tell that I'm going to have my hands full with you." Hotch chuckled.
"Hands full? Well wait just a darn minute here, I'm not your responsibility." Emily said, feeling her independence being snatched from her. In her few days of 'marriage' she was suddenly realizing that maybe being single wasn't so bad after all. "And with the plates, since I get to play Holly Housewife, I'm going to be the one washing them!"
"Fine." Hotch said, rolling his eyes. "We can get those ugly plates..."
"The plates aren't ugly." Prentiss insisted, standing her ground firmly.
"Alright, the ironic, satirical plates if you will just agree to stop trying to register the pig." Hotch corrected, having seen how she kept eyeing the gun as though it could solve all of her problems. He remembered registering with Hailey, but that had seemed like a more joyous occasion while this...this was borderline painful.
"Fine." She conceeded. "But just you wait until we look at bed spreads."
Hotch, not being able to control it, shuddered slightly. This is going to be a LONG three months.