A/N - I wrote the chapter that ended this story, and then decided to save it for later. Still having a hard time letting this one go. So I'm going to stop saying when I think this will end, and just go with it until it feels done. :)
Derek glanced at Em as he drove them home from San Francisco and smiled. She was flipping through the pictures on her phone that they'd taken that day, or asked other people to take for them.
"These are the first pictures we've ever taken together," she said.
"We can upload them tonight and get them printed."
"Especially this one," she responded while holding the phone up so he could glance at the picture of the two of them at the baseball game, both of their faces lit up with smiles and pressed next to each other while he held up the foul ball Em had gotten for him.
He laughed lightly. "It really is the best picture ever. I can't believe you caught that ball with your bare hands. I was looking away and the next thing I see is a bunch of french flies fly off your lap and you jumping up in your seat."
She reached out and touched his shoulder, laughing. "A foul ball was a must-have on this day."
He took her hand and kissed it. "Thank you. It was a perfect day."
"It was. And the best part is that we can have days like that pretty regularly, especially when the summer season is over and things slow down. Are you sure you don't want to go to a movie? We have time."
"Positive. I want to go home," he said while glancing at her and watching the smile on her lips. He'd been watching her all day with her newly-dyed hair back to it's original "Emily" color, and just how much that made her look more like her original self. He never forgot she was Emily, and calling her "Em," helped, but he'd spent the past several weeks listening to her introduce herself and talk to the guests in the hotel like she Melanie, following her cover story. He still got to be Derek Morgan, a former FBI agent who had met Melanie when she was working in Virginia. After he was injured in the line of duty, he came to California to be with her. He glanced over at her hair again and smiled while she looked at the pictures on her phone yet again. He'd loved their entire day together, but now he just wanted to get her home.
When they made it back to Monterey, they found a few guests at the inn sitting around the fire pit, and Gretchen sitting there with them telling them some story that was making everyone laugh.
"Come join us," she said enthusiastically when she saw them.
Derek smiled at her. "We had a long day and we're pretty tired. Thank you so much for taking care of things today for us. Do you want me to drive you home?"
"It was my pleasure. I think I'll stay awhile and one of these fine people can walk me home."
The guests around the fire nodded in agreement and Derek walked with Em to the cottage.
She turned and raised her eyebrow at him when they were inside. "Tired?" she asked.
He laughed quietly. "Not at all."
He reached out his hand and ran his fingers through her hair. It was a couple inches longer than it was nearly a year before when he saw her in the bar in Quantico. The extra length combined with the color made him think of the first time he met her, when she shook his hand in the briefing room and introduced herself. He moved his hand and ran his thumb over her eyebrows, now the color they should be.
"Are you going to keep it this color?" he asked, wondering if she had done this just for today, to take them back in time for their day of relaxation.
She gave him a soft smile. "I'll change it back for Thanksgiving, just to be safe, but other than that, yes."
It was difficult to stop smiling enough to kiss her, but soon his elation gave way to passion and she backed them towards the bedroom. He stopped the progression of removing clothing only long enough to turn on the bedside lamp. When she was laying naked on the bed with her dark hair standing out in contrast on the white pillow case, he had a brief flash of the memory of a fantasy, thinking that this was pretty much how he'd imagined she'd look, if they ever got to this point.
She was eager and ready, but there was no way he was going to let their perfect day rush to an end. He kissed her languidly, running his hands softly over her body, and she caught onto his mood, calming herself. He kissed his way down her body, and she sank into the bed, sighing softly, letting the soft touches of his lips and tongue wash over her. He spent several long seconds kissing her inner thighs until she finally squirmed and whimpered, "Please, Derek."
And there was no accent. She did this on occasion in the privacy of their bedroom, and by some unspoken rule, he knew it was his green light to call her Emily. "Emily," he whispered before running his tongue through her folds, both of them moaning in unison, him at the taste of her, and her at the sensations.
He felt her hand land gently on the back of his head, urging him on. He knew her body well enough at this point to know exactly how to move against her and push her over the edge quickly, or keep her hanging on. He moved his arms under her thighs and placed his hands on her hips so she couldn't move, and she groaned and then let out a breath of a laugh in frustration. Her one hand stayed on his head and the other landed on top of the hand on her right hip. After a few minutes, the hand on top of his started squeezing his fingers and he listened as breathy expletives fell from her lips. He looked up and saw her head rolling from side to side on the pillow and he gave in, releasing her hips so she could move against his mouth. Seconds later she moaned loudly and he felt her thighs press around either side of his head and her body quaking around him.
He moved quickly up her body and pushed inside her before she'd stopped shaking, kissing her neck as a she groaned out a "Fuck," and tried to suck in air. He smiled and started moving his hips while she clutched at him. He was surprised when she moaned and clenched around him again just a couple minutes later. He stilled his hips and gritted his teeth, trying to hang on. When she stilled around him, he let out a breath and started moving again.
"Still going strong there?" she asked with a smirk on her face.
He smiled back. "Hang in there, Emily Prentiss. We are just getting started."
He'd called her Emily several times since she came back into his life, but never had used her last name, and it fell from his lips without thought. Her head turned and he raised his to look in her eyes, stilling the movement of his hips. Her hand reached up to touch his cheek and she smiled, then laughed lightly, still breathless. "I'm definitely keeping the hair," she said with a grin before kissing him.
The first week in September, he purchased a foreclosed home about thirty minutes from the inn. The previous owners had purchased it with thoughts of renovating, but had barely gotten started with the project before running out of money. It was sold as-is, which was fine for Derek, financially and to give him something to do during some weekdays. There was one functioning bathroom, but the kitchen was an empty room with a lot of holes in the wall from a rewiring project that wasn't yet complete. The structure itself was solid, though. It was small and secluded, no neighbors to wonder about a man who was working on a house but never really living in it.
In the middle of September, he asked Rossi to supervise while he had a moving company take his items out of storage in Virginia. Penelope could have done it, but he thought it would be emotionally difficult for her, to watch his furniture and other items getting loaded in a van to move to California. Instead, he told her he needed to do some work at the house before it was fit for anyone to visit, but threw out the second weekend in January. She bought a plane ticket before she'd even hung up the phone.
Weekends were still busy at the bed and breakfast, but by mid-October it was relatively mellow mid-week, and Em started coming to the house with him to help on occasion. She also started volunteering at the library to read aloud during story hours for children and elderly, sharing her love of books with other people. She originally wanted to work with a school-affiliated reading program for disadvantaged youth, but it required being fingerprinted. The money she'd paid was supposed to cover her in this regard, with her fingerprints coming back to Melanie Fielding, but it wasn't something she felt comfortable pursuing, just in case.
The last week in October, they were working together installing cabinets in the kitchen, Em using a power drill for the first time. The mornings and nights were getting much colder, but it was still warm in the mid-afternoon, especially at this house, away from the coast. He stared at her in her jeans and tank top while she used the drill.
"I can feel that look, Derek Morgan," she said with a laugh. "This is supposed to be work time."
"But my furniture is here," he said with a grin as she turned around.
"In a jumble in the living room."
"The couch is accessible," he said hopefully.
She shook here head at him with a grin on her face, put the drill on the ground and walked towards him.
They heard his phone ringing on their way to the couch, but they ignored it, figuring it was a store saying a part or order was in. When it rang a second time a little later, they still ignored it. It barely registered in his mind when it rang a third time because he was completely focused on the body currently above him, the woman who never used her accent when they were making love anymore.
About thirty minutes later, when they were laying on the couch together, lightly dozing, they both heard through the open windows the unmistakable crunch of a car on the gravel driveway. They moved quickly to throw their clothing on, wondering who it could possibly be.
"A delivery?" asked Em.
"Nothing's scheduled," said Derek as he zipped up his jeans.
He pulled his t-shirt on and walked towards the window to peek out before spinning quickly and putting his body between the open front door and Melanie, who was just pulling her shirt over her bra. She looked at him, scared and worried, and he mouthed the name, "Rossi."
Her eyes widened and she nodded and rushed to her purse and pulled out her sunglasses. "I'll go pick up some more screws," she said in a thick accent while picking up her shoes, just as David Rossi made it to the doorway.
Derek turned and saw Rossi on the other side of the screen, a bottle of scotch in one hand and a smile on his face. Derek was elated to see him, but his heart was beating quickly in fear, too, wishing Melanie still had auburn hair.
"Rossi!" he exclaimed.
Rossi opened the door and smiled again at Derek before glancing at Melanie, who bent to put her shoes on her feet.
"I was giving a lecture at Stanford, thought I was going to be in and out and on a flight back to DC, but Hotch called and said the would probably be wrapping up a case in Florida by the time I got there, and they didn't need me, so I switched my flight to tomorrow and decided to come see you. I tried calling on the drive. Figured if you weren't around, I could at least enjoy the area."
Derek moved forward and gave him a quick, firm hug. "It's great to see you." He cleared his throat, "Um, this is Melanie. Melanie, this is Dave. I used to work with him."
Melanie kept her smile small, not showing her teeth, and stepped forward a bit. "It's nice to meet you. I was just about to head to the hardware store. I'll let you two catch up."
Rossi stuck his hand out to her and she didn't hesitate before reaching for it, trying to act relaxed and natural. Derek saw immediately when Rossi caught a glimpse of recognition. If her hair had still been different, it wouldn't have registered, but even though the eyes were covered and the nose was different, her body shape and stature was the same, and in the tank top, that was obvious. That, combined with the hair was enough. He saw Rossi glance at her ear where her hair was pushed behind it and then look down at the hand in his.
Dave glanced at Derek, sadness, hurt, confusion and hope all evident in his face. He reached his other hand out towards Melanie and she pulled away from him. "I really should get going."
Derek cringed. She sounded so scared.
"Come on, Rossi. Let's open up that scotch," he said with passably relaxed voice.
But Rossi was not deterred. He reached his hand out again and touched Melanie's arm and whispered, "Emily?"
He watched Em sigh heavily and then take in a shaky breath. He watched her brief moment of hesitation; she could bolt and leave Derek to answer questions and they could send Rossi home overly-curious and probably pissed off, or she could stay put and deal with this. She pulled off her sunglasses and her eyes were already full of tears. She slowly raised them to Rossi, and Rossi gasped, taking a step back in shock, taking in a shaky breath himself. Derek rushed to Emily's side, his mind racing with what to say, but he watched Rossi gather himself and step forward again. He placed his arms tentatively around Emily and then fully embraced her when he felt her arms reach to hug him back.
After several seconds, he let her go, analyzing her face, and Derek reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.
"How?" asked Rossi, but then shook his head, probably rushing through the possibilities here. They stood silently and watched Rossi's face as he ran through scenarios, his eyes glancing at Derek's knee several seconds later. He shook his head, and neither Derek or Em could read his expression.
"Dave," she said softly.
"Scotch, definitely," Rossi replied. And then he gave them both a very small smile.
They sat at the table in the dining area, drinking scotch out of paper cups. The first part of the story wasn't too difficult for Emily; she more or less told him the truth, right up to getting to Tennessee. Rossi was empathetic and understanding. Emily paused then and she glanced at Derek, but Rossi held up his hand and stared at Derek. "I don't want or need to know anything else. It's better for all involved."
They both nodded at him gratefully.
Rossi looked around the house. "I take it you don't actually live here?"
Derek smiled and shook his head, and Melanie told him about the bed and breakfast. Late that afternoon, Rossi followed them back to the inn. Derek saw him touch the name plate of "Our Secret" on the gate, the hint of a grin on his face.
"There are three rooms currently open," said Melanie, "and you can have one of them. But come see the cottage."
Melanie was fidgety and nervous about this person she hadn't expected knowing she was alive. Derek kept a hand on her back as Rossi walked around the cottage looking at things. They were asking him to go back to DC with a big secret, and it wasn't that they didn't think he'd keep it, but two of five now knew the truth and Melanie had mentioned on the drive back to the inn that that felt really awful.
Dave picked up the framed picture of the two of them at the baseball game, and they watched his shoulders totally relax for the first time since he'd recognized Emily. He turned to face them and smiled. "It's admirable in a lot of ways, staying in this job at the expense of a personal life. I've had a lot of regrets about it in my life, though, and I've lost a lot. Walking away for genuine love and happiness is something I wish I'd done several times, and it's admirable, too."
