Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

Maya Angelou

Erin surveyed her body in front of the full length mirror. In the exam room of the perinatal center. She frowned at what she saw, her naked body; freckled and dimpled with age. She was halfway through her fourth decade on Earth and carrying twins. By most accounts she looked good, But at 19 weeks pregnant, she wanted that baby bump. Instead, she got fat accumulating over her middle, stretch marks on her hips. Tender, droopy breasts and nausea that wouldn't quit.

It was fair to say that she was unhappy with her body.
A quick knock pulled her from her thoughts.

"Hold on," she called out and grabbed the paper gown that puddled at her feet and covered herself.

As usual, he plowed right in. Completely oblivious to her state of undress. "Car's on it's way, are you ready?"

"Give me two minutes," she reached for her panties on the chair next to her.

"Uh uh." He kicked the door closed with his foot. "That means, leave."

She turned to look at him knowing she was fighting a losing battle, "what happens if I say 'please."

"Not much I'm afraid." The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

Great... She thought dryly did he really have to gloat about it?

She huffed, her hair puffed off her forehead. "I got fat. Ugly fat," she grumbled.

"Bullshit." He said, a gleam in his eyes as he stalked towards her. "See, here's the thing, Erin; we're going home." He stopped in front of her and grabbed her hand tight. Their fingers laced together. His voice hardened in impatience, "and when we get there I'm going to show you exactly what I'm talking about."

She swallowed hard, "pass me my bra."

"Usually I'm the one taking them off," he quipped and plucked the lacy bra off the chair and held in out in front of her. "Put your arms in."

Dave held open the door to the black town-car, allowing Erin to climb in. "Such a gentleman," she smiled and buckled her seat belt.

"Of course." He shut the door and went around the car and climbed in beside her in the backseat. They melted into the plush leather seats allowing themselves to relax and enjoy the ride. Dave's arm settled around her and she leaned into him.

"Your place or mine?" She mumbled as her eyes began to drift closed. His fingertips grazed her hip from underneath her white pants suit.

"How about our place?"
"What do you mean?" She sat up slightly to meet his eyes.

"Exactly what I said." He shrugged, "our place. You, me, the kids: our place. Together."

"We'll see." The smooth movement of the car was lulling her to sleep.

"Mark has the kids for the day, let's just play it by ear and go to my place for now."

"I want to see the kids, I missed this," he confessed. " Hell, we could build a whole new house for all I care; as long as we're together. A tree house for Mackenzie and a big yard with a swing-set. You could have your own bathroom and one of those claw-foot tubs. Whaddya think, Sweetheart?"

Silence filled the small space of the car. Dave chanced a look at Erin and his heart dropped in disappointment; she was asleep in his arms.

Tightening his hold on her, he realized that he wouldn't change a single thing about their past; just rearranged things.

Like a proper goodbye for one thing; he realized, suddenly ashamed; he owed her a real goodbye it was 20 years overdue. When she rolled over expecting to find him sleeping next to her. Instead of the note, on hotel stationary with a hastily written 'I'm sorry' on his pillow.

All of his past failures, divorces and disappointments were just practice runs.

Had he stayed in that hotel room with her, some 20 years ago; she wouldn't have fought so hard to succeed in the FBI. Sure they might have been happy; but only for a while. She would have clung to him and resented him, he would have stolen her freedom. The unselfish but irresponsible part of him knew he couldn't do that to her.

He hated the pain he caused her; but the end result would have been the same.

His hand moved from her hip to her belly in one smooth motion. "Hi pretty babies," he whispered softly. "Sleep well." The car slowed to a stop in front of the pharmacy, Dave nudged Erin lightly. "Hey come inside with me."

He had arranged everything back at the hospital, while Erin was getting dressed.

The town car would take them to the pharmacy to get her anti-nausea prescription filled and then back to her house, where the ingredients for Dave's family secret cure-all chicken soup would be delivered.

"Please just let me sleep," she grouched but her eyes opened anyway.

"Soon," he conceded and kissed her forehead. "Let's drop this off first."

"Fine," she frowned at him and unbuckled her seatbelt. "But we're not shopping around, we're going to hand this over to the pharmacist and sit on the bench." She said, clutching the prescription tightly in her fist.

"Yes, Cranky Pants," he mumbled and prayed she couldn't hear.

"I heard that."

Dammit. He heard the metaphorical bell ding in s head; here goes Round 1.

"So?" He threw back, "I meant it, just because you're in a bad mood means I can't look around the store?"

"I am cranky, exhausted and nauseated 75% of the time; so that's Madam Cranky Pants, to you." She gave him a much deserved 'Gibbs Slap' to the back of his head.

"Ow!" He winced and reached back to rub the spot where her hand connected with his scalp. "Is your obsession with violence a pregnancy side-effect?"

"You're living up to the promise to drive me crazy," she countered, " but if it helps you could blame the hormones."

"Touche. But, you're spending too much time over at NCIS if Jethro is rubbing off on you."

"You deserved it."
"Yeah, I did but I'm not taking that bastard golfing."

"Jealous, much?" She snarked.

"No," he lied and kissed her forehead. He was happy for the first time in years, he had something to live for that was more solid than his job. He got out of the car and went around to open her door.

"I could have gotten it myself," she said and stepped out of the car.

"How many times in your life do you get to take a luxury town car and a hired driver to the pharmacy?" His voice was challenging as he raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I'll wait," he deadpanned when she didn't respond.

"About that…." she paused, trying to find the exact words to state her case. She didn't want to argue with him, she didn't want to sound ungrateful; but this wasn't her life. She didn't want him throwing money around every time there was a problem, it wasn't the way she wanted her children raised. She didn't want them to think that all of your problems could go away for the right price.

If they were every going to try to fuse their lifestyles together, he was going to have to understand that.

"Erin?" His voice brought her out of her inner turmoil as they walked through the sliding double doors into the store.

"Don't you think the town car and chauffeur is just a little over the top? A yellow cab would have been fine."

"Not today." He smiled in a way that could set her very pores ablaze.

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion, "did I miss something?"

He sighed slightly and grabbed her hand tight in his. "Erin Strauss, today is the first day we haven't fought or openly ignored each other."

"It's not the first time," she said blandly, "what about the night at Max's?"
"That was a great night," his voice dropped low as they neared closer to the pharmacy counter.

"But that was a date and you're supposed to behave on a date."
Erin sat the prescription on the counter. As the pharmacist scanned it she turned back to Dave. "That's not true and you know it-"

"Oh? You mean the night after some idiot rear-ended you and Hotch?" He questioned boldly. Ignoring the pharmacist, who was trying and failing to recapture Erin's attention. "If you could have moved, you would have lit into me like a match-stick soaked in gasoline."

"Why?" She crossed her arms over her now-sizable chest, "what does any of that have to do with you?"

"Because I fucked up!" He turned to the pharmacist and snarled, "her address and phone number is the same as before."

He stalked over to the bench and sat down in a huff, that's what she said she wanted. No talking, no touching, no problem. He winced at the bitterness of his inner monologue; he wasn't an angry man but he sure felt like one.

He felt her presence beside him before he saw her.

"I'm sorry," Dave said quietly.

"Me too," she said. "I don't want to fight."

"It's not healthy," he conceded, in a tone that said he didn't want to argue anymore than she did. "Why do we keep doing this?"

"I don't know!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "We can't keep going like this."

"I know," he said softly. "What can I do to fix it?"

"Nothing." She dropped her shoulders in a silent surrender. "Can we just go home?"

"We're going to have to find a new pharmacy," Dave quipped and his lips lifted in a smirk.

"Ha! If that was worth throwing us out, imagine what they would say on a bad day."

Dave nodded, "that was peaceful!"

"With no cursing," she affirmed.

"Nope. We were PG."

"You were an altar-boy."

"Yeah," he snorted, "right."

As they spoke, she gradually moved towards him. Now his arm was settled around her shoulders and her ear rested on his chest.

"Comfy?" She was basically on top of him in the middle of Walgreens.

"It's the best seat in the house."

"You feel like crap, don't you?"

"What was your first clue?" She mumbled.

His hold tightened on her. "This." He leaned down and brought his mouth to meet her's in a gentle kiss.

"Now we're really going to have to find a new pharmacy," she said and let a bubble of laughter escape.

"Erin Strauss?" The pharmacist called out.

"I got it," Dave said quickly as they both stood up.

"You don't have to-" she reached for her wallet and followed him to the counter.

He slid his credit card and passed her the bag.

"This," the pharmacist laid a calendar on the counter and indicated a list with a ballpoint pen. "Is the next closest pharmacy." He circled the spot and handed it to Dave.

"Ha! Told ya!" He said as they walked through the sliding doors.

"This is discrimination!" She eyed the calendar warily and dropped the hand she was holding. Some of her fire had returned. "He can't do that us, I'm going to go talk to him. Does he know who we are!"

God help them. Dave loved her fire. He loved her passion, but right now he loved nothing more than getting her home.

"He is discriminating, Sweetheart." He grabbed her hand again, stalling her movement's. "Against ass-holes."