"So..." JJ said slowly when Emily dropped onto the couch, flopping over to rest her head on JJ's lap. "How was your date?"

"Not a date," Emily replied.

JJ gently stroked Emily's hair. "Did you or did you not get laid?"

Emily turned her head to fix her with an annoyed stare. "I didn't fuck him, I'm not a hooker." A beat. "We just rounded second a little."

JJ gave a snort of laughter.

"Shut up. It was just so I could check out his place, okay? It's for our plan," she insisted.

With a laugh, JJ shook her head. "So, what did you find out?"

"Well, he's got a son..."

JJ's mouth hung open for a few moments, surprised. "What?"

She nodded. "Four, maybe five years old. No mother in the picture, as far as I can tell."

"That's good, right?" JJ asked.

Emily raised a brow. "Good?" she repeated.

"It means he has a weakness," JJ said as if it should be obvious. "We can use that against him.

Emily pushed herself to sit up, immediately shaking her head. "No, Jayje. No way. We are not using the kid to get to Doyle."

JJ rolled her eyes. "Hardly the time to develop a conscience, Em..."

"We're not doing it," Emily maintained. "How would you feel if someone used Henry to get to you?"

JJ sighed heavily. "So, what are going to do to get the bastard?"

Emily shrugged. "I haven't figured that out yet," she admitted.

"So, you got to second base and have nothing to show for it?" she asked teasingly. "Slut."

Emily punched her shoulder gently. "You suck."

JJ emerged from the dressing room, stifling a yawn – no matter how many times she worked into the early hours of the morning, it never became any less exhausting. She was really looking forward to showering off the sweat and sleaze, then climbing into bed – assuming Emily ever got her ass in gear and finished changing...

It didn't escape her notice that she was not alone in waiting for Emily, given the way Derek Morgan loitered by the bar, apparently trying to pretend he wasn't hoping to get a moment alone with her...

Struggling to resist rolling her eyes, she joined him at the bar with a faux-innocent question of, "Waiting for someone?"

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Derek stammered, "N-no. Just...making sure everyone gets to their car safely. You know how Dave would have my ass on a platter if..."

"Emily's almost finished changing," JJ interrupted his rambling, cutting through the bullshit.

He blinked once, twice, as if in surprise at her frankness. "Oh... I, umm... Okay." He shrugged.

JJ laughed at a little at his deer in the headlights expression. "You don't have to put on this act with me, you know?" she said. He opened his mouth as if to insist that he didn't know what she was talking about, but JJ wasn't about to fall for his excuses. "The question is: what exactly is it that you're hoping for with her?"

"Wh-what?"

"Are you just looking for a hook up?" JJ pressed. "Because I know it seems like it would be fun to date a stripper and make all your buddies jealous and all that crap, but that's not who Emily is. She doesn't need that kind of bullshit in her life and Jayde sure as hell doesn't either. So, if you're just looking to mess around, you should find someone else to do it with."

Derek's brows furrowed at JJ's impassioned speech. "We're... We're just friends," he insisted.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" JJ asked pointedly.

Heaving a sigh, he shook his head, confessed, "I'm not messing around. I genuinely like her. Is that what you want to hear?"

Pleased with the honesty, she nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Then, she fixed him with a stare of burning intensity. "Derek Morgan, from what I can tell, you're a good guy. But Emily Prentiss deserves better than 'good'. She's been through hell to get here and I will not stand idly by and watch you mess that up. Too many asshole guys have tried to take advantage of her and I won't let it happen again. So, just to be entirely clear: if you in any way scratch, ding, dent, mangle her heart, you won't walk away unscathed. Do we understand each other?"

Derek nodded insistently, just a little bit frightened of the petite blonde feral beast in stripper heels standing before him...

Before he could assure her that he had absolutely no intention of hurting Emily or her daughter in any way, Emily emerged from the locker room. Either not sensing the residual tension from the conversation or simply choosing to ignore it, she approached, slung an arm around JJ's shoulder. "Shall we go?" she asked. "I'm fucking exhausted and I think I put out my shoulder during my last turn on the pole..."

"You'll want to put ice on that," Derek found himself instructing her. "Until the swelling goes down. Then, you can put heat on it." At Emily's quizzical expression, he explained, "I played a little strong safety in college..."

"No idea what that means," Emily replied.

He chuckled. "Football, Princess. Let's just say, I had my fair share of injuries."

With a teasing smirk, she replied, "So, you were a shitty football player?"

"Hey!" he said, holding up his hands in self-defence. "I'll have you know I was a beast on the field." A beat, in which a mischievous smirk crossed his lips. "And between the sheets."

Both women scoffed.

"How your ego manages to fit through the door, I'll never know," Emily muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

JJ, of course, missed none of their flirtatious glances during the exchange, a knowing smirk crossing her lips. No matter how vehemently Derek may have denied that there was anything between him and Emily, JJ could see the truth like the neon GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS sign that flickered in the club's window...