When JJ had whined and wheedled and cajoled Emily into joining her on a double date, Emily had been anticipating a friend of Will's...which is why she'd been more than a little annoyed when she'd found this so-called 'blind' date was none other than Derek Morgan...

Fortunately, the restaurant's drinks were strong and a couple of them sufficiently warmed her to the prospect. Along with Derek's agreement that it was not, in fact, a date. (And, if she missed the way his face fell slightly when he'd agreed to that, well...she was a few drinks in at the time.)

"So, do you work at the bar too?" Will asked Derek, politely curious.

JJ instantly froze at the question, her hand stalling with her glass halfway to her lips. Subtly, she tried to signal Derek, given the fact that neither she nor Emily had remembered to let him in on the little secret they were keeping from Will...but Derek was completely blind to the gesture.

"The bar?" Derek repeated, brow raised in confusion. "I'm a bouncer at..."

Before he could finish the sentence, though, Emily kicked him in the shin. Hard. He shot her a 'what the fuck?' expression, which is when he saw the way she was gesturing for him to keep his mouth shut...

"...at the bar," he finished lamely.

Will's brow furrowed. "I didn't realize the bar was dangerous enough to need a bouncer..."

Emily, clearly seeing that the conversation was headed down a dangerous path for their secret, wrested control of the topic. "It's an insurance thing," she explained, smiling sweetly. "Rossi gets a better rate if he has on-site security...and you know he's nothing if not a smart business man." She added a little shrug as if to say 'what can you do?'

JJ nodded her agreement. "Exactly!" she exclaimed, shooting Emily a thankful smile. "Derek always walks us to our cars after our shifts," she added, "He's so thoughtful."

For a moment, Will seemed to debate whether or not their story rang true, but eventually seemed to buy it. He extended a hand to Derek to shake, which he tentatively took. "Well, thanks for looking out for Jayje for me."

"Can I, umm... Can I talk to you for a minute?" Emily asked Derek, nodding her head in the direction of the exit.

He seemed uncertain, but shrugged in concession, albeit reluctantly. He followed her out into the evening air, at which point he offered her an expression that was part pleading for forgiveness, part annoyance. "You could have told me the guy has no idea you're strippers..."

"Yes, well, it's not exactly something we advertise," she retorted pointedly.

"The guy has a kid with her," Derek replied, "Doesn't he deserve to know what the mother of his child does for a living?"

She rolled her eyes. "Men don't exactly have the highest opinion of strippers in the first place," she said, "At first they think it's fun to date us, but then they get crazy jealous and start to think we're screwing every guy we see like we're all whores. And that's the best case scenario..." She shook her head, sighed. "We have to protect ourselves. And our children."

A beat.

"Not all men are like that..." Derek said quietly, sounding almost wounded by her diatribe. "I'm not like that."

A look of bone-deep weariness descended on Emily's face at that. She sighed, shook her head, tongue flicking out over her top lip. "Derek, listen... You're a really great guy. One of the best, even. And I can never repay you for everything you've done to help Jayde and I... But I just don't think that you and I are going to work."

"Why?" Derek beseeched. "Is there someone else?"

"No, I..." she rushed to supply.

Before she could finish, though, he demanded. "Do you not have feelings for me?"

She huffed, frustrated. "I mean, technically..."

Once again, he interrupted, "I know it's not that you're gay because no one can fake the kind of chemistry we had that night..."

Cheeks flaming red, she hissed, "Derek!"

"Then what is it!?" he asked, almost shouting, if it weren't for the noise of the restaurant spilling out into the night dampening the volume. "What reason could you possibly have for not giving us a chance?"

Emily's eyes seemed to sparkle with unshed tears then, though she did her best to hide it. "Derek, please, don't do this..." she begged.

He shook his head firmly. "You owe me, Emily. You owe me a reason."

"Because it's too hard!" she shouted. "It's too fucking hard, okay!?"

For several moments, he could do nothing but blink in stunned silence at the response.

"I cannot give my heart to someone knowing full well that I will not be getting it back in one piece," she continued, unable to stop now that she'd started. "I cannot keep losing parts of myself because I barely have enough as it is. I'm a vase leaking water all over the fucking place and I need that water to give to the flower that is my daughter."

Several more moments passed.

Then, quiet, almost wounded, "I'm not a goddamn wrecking ball, Emily..."

She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. After a beat, she shook her head, closed her mouth.

What could she have said? She couldn't take back what had already come spilling forth, couldn't undo it. She couldn't hide behind 'I'm sorry's' or 'please forgive me's'. Couldn't do that to him. Or herself. There was no point in pretending.

And, judging by the sombre look on Derek's face, he couldn't exactly pretend either.

With a heavy sigh, he gestured over his shoulder towards the door. "We should get back in there before they start to wonder where we've gone..." Things were bad enough without JJ letting her imagination run away with her.

Emily nodded, swallowed thickly the remnants of tears and words left unsaid. She plastered on a smile that she absolutely didn't feel...but if there was one thing she was well-versed in, it was faking things.