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In the Final Analysis

The BAU of the FBI boasted the best minds in the criminal justice system. They were the folks who got called in to flush out the habits of every variety of wacko. Yet, they can sometimes be dense – whether deliberate or just being clueless, was still up for debate.

It was three weeks since the conversation and Emily Prentiss should have known better but she really allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security when she hadn't heard a peep from Sheli. Just before lunch, everyone took notice as the 5'8" woman in 3-inch red strappy sandals glided into the squad room. Her dark skin offset by the red and orange sundress, natural looking make-up and a killer body. Nodding to the occupants as if she belonged there, she stopped at Morgan's desk. Heads shook in disbelief and resignation as another woman seemingly joined the ranks of Morgan groupies. The various agents tried to observe the interaction covertly. Morgan himself was intrigued as the woman planted herself on his desk and smiled.

"Derek Morgan, we finally meet. I have heard a lot about you."

"That so?" asked Morgan, playing it cool. "Mind telling me all about you."

"Come with me," she replied sliding off the desk to allow Morgan to get out of his chair.

As they began walking out of the BAU, Reid standing beside Prentiss exclaimed, "wow!" She turned to see what had the resident genius blushing. Her eyes almost popped out of her head and her trembling hand spilled hot coffee which brought her back into the moment. "Shit!" she exclaimed and quickly placed the cup on the counter and held her burnt hand under the cool running water. An irrational fear took over her as she contemplated what just happened. Her life is now officially screwed.

Seated at a cozy cafe, Derek Morgan got the surprise of his life when his mystery woman asked, "Why the hell are you letting her suffer?"

"Who?" he inquired trying to place the woman infront of him, he was sure that they had never met because he wouldn't have forgotten. The next thing to figure is who she was talking about.

"How many women in the FBI are you horning for?"

"OK, playtime is over gorgeous. Who are you?"

"Sheli Parker."

"I know we haven't met, so how do you know me?"

"Your best friend."

Scrunching his face, he replied, "You know Prentiss?"

"Prentiss?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow, "who's he?"

"She," corrected Morgan reflexively with his brain working overtime to decipher this surreal turn of his day, "my partner. Who also is my best friend, so I have no clue who you are talking about."

"Partner, huh? And best friend. I bet she is more than that."

"Not that it is any of your business but we are just friends."

"And you want more." She stated taking a sip of her drink, "so why don't you tell her."

"We work together and I can't mess up what we have."

Smiling as she looked at the caller ID on her ringing phone; she silenced the phone, dug in her bag and dropped some bills on the table to cover both their drinks. Getting up she leaned over and whispered in Morgan's ears and left as she answered the ringing phone. He sat there in shock and watched her disappear wondering just who the hell she is.

It was a slow day at the BAU and Morgan was happy to slip back in unnoticed by the team. He quickly went to the locker room, changed and entered the gym. The sight greeting him made the situation worse. Emily Prentiss kickboxing the hell out of a suspended punching bag. She had on shorts and a tank. He couldn't tear his eyes away and shivered as he remembered what Sheli Parker said; you should throw that partner of yours on her back, get between her legs and make her the yin to your yang. Then the images assaulted him and Morgan stayed out of sight thoroughly enjoying the way her body moved. She was clearly pissed off about something and it was sooooo HOT. Then Prentiss escalated his fantasy by flopping down on the mat, chest heaving with her hair splayed. Derek Morgan became jealous of sweat for the first time in his life. His eyes roamed her body openly and he smiled as he planned his mode of attack.

The workout only eased some of her discomfort. Emily decided to do something she rarely had the time to do and started to make dinner. In the middle of it, the doorbell rang. She was prepared to kick the crap out of Sheli and wreched the door open with a nasty look coming face to face with Derek Morgan.

"You better have a damn good explanation," was out of her mouth before she could think.

"Uh, I come bearing cheesy movies?" he inquired.

"Morgan, shit...sorry, uh, come in. Thought you were someone else."

Following her in to the kitchen after dropping the bag on the coffee table in the living room. She flung him an apron which he caught and laughed as he read 'kiss the cook' emblazed on the piece of cloth.

"Shut up and chop," she ordered putting a stop to whatever he was about to say because she knew once Morgan started it would get ridiculously out of hand very fast. They called a silent impasse followed by small talk about the usual stuff.

After dinner, seated together on the sofa watching Night of the Living Dead, Emily couldn't take it anymore and blurted, "What did she say to you?"

He turned to face her pouty expression and sweared, "Son of a bitch." Deciding to not play dumb and antagonize her, he continued, "Your friend is scary."

"She's an idiot." Replied Emily, "what did she tell you?"

"That I am in love with you."

Emily fought the blush cursing her fair skin and turned pleading eyes to Derek, "please don't listen to her, she is a psychopath."

"Maybe, but she is right."

That statement shocked the hell out of her and she continued to stare at Morgan trying unsuccessfully to formulate a reply. Taking this as his opening, Morgan pulled her unto his lap and kissed her. Small, nips all around her lips and soft kisses down her neck. She shivered and lost it when he licked her bottom lip. Emily made herself more comfortable; fully straddling him and threw herself into the kiss. This was Derek Morgan after all; the guy she has been crushing on like a hormonal teenager for years.

He was in heaven; Emily bloody Prentiss was finally in his arms playing tonsil hockey. Breaking for air she tried to reason with him about not taking it further but he challanged her on whether that was what she really wanted. He asked her to make her argument, but made it difficult by placing open kisses down her neck and sucking on her left earlobe. With a primal growl she pulled back and he got the message immediately. Getting up with her wrapped around him; he made quick work of the distance to her bedroom.

The sex wasn't gentle; that would come weeks later. They moved against each other with desperation and lust. Both giving up control to each other elevating them to places they have never been. Usually quiet in bed, Emily discovered the freedom of being vocal. She came apart with such force she couldn't surpress her scream of pleasure. Morgan cringed as she yelled in his ears triggering his orgasm; his body jerked and he was just as vocal. Coming down from the high, he was reluctant to get off of Emily. His weight was nice but she needed him off to breathe properly. She tapped his shoulder; he flipped them over and kept her half sprawled on his body. His hand caressing her back while her right hand rested above his throbbing heart. Kissing her brow, he said, "Give us a chance Em. I don't think I can walk away from having you again."

Seeing his sincerity, she nodded and smiled. Feeling content in a long time, maybe the first time in her life Emily silently thanked Sheli and hope to hell that her path never cross Garcia's. Oh God! Penelope and Sheli in the same room; that is the most frightening thing to imagine. Unsubs got nothing on those two crazies.

"Whatever you are thinking about, stop." Ordered Derek.

"I am not thinking anything."

"I can hear your brain churn babe." He pulled her closer and distracted her with gentle kisses.

THE END