Author Note – thank you for the lovely comments.

Second chances – chapter eleven

Three sets of eyes were all looking at her expectantly, waiting for answers. Out of the three, she found Alex's stare more reassuring. JJ and Penelope were sitting either side of her, gleams in their eyes. Taking a deep breath, Emily spoke. "Ask me whatever you want to know, but I'm not saying I'll answer everything you want to know." Emily gave a pointed look towards Penelope.

Penelope and JJ shared a look. "Well," JJ started, "he doesn't have an accent…"

"But he is a hot dude with a badge and gun," Penelope finished. Alex gave a quiet chuckle at what was unmistakably an in-joke. Emily blushed, nodding in ascent to her friends' statement.

"That he is," she told the group. Emily was grateful they were easing into the questions she knew would come.

"So Kitten, an enquiring mind wants to know how that man moves in bed," Penelope asked, a predatory look in her eye.

"It's not always in bed?" Penelope's jaw dropping was enough to give Emily a confidence boost.

"Okay, I need some background information. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Alex cut in before Penelope could respond. "Who started it?"

"I'm not actually sure," Emily admitted as she thought back over her relationship with Morgan. "I asked him to take me home after JJ's wedding, but he kissed me first." That may have been when they had both admitted to having feelings for one another, but the attraction had been there for years.

"He took you home after my wedding?" JJ asked. "It's been going on for a year? You were in London."

"It's not been a year, just since Morgan's visit," Emily explained. "We didn't sleep together after your wedding, we spent the night talking." The pink flush on her cheeks gave her away.

"That's not all, is it?" Penelope asked poking her pink cheek softly; she would be disappointed if that was all that happened.

"There was more kissing," Emily admitted. "A lot more kissing."

"Derek and Emily, sitting in a tree, K, I, S, S, I, N, G," JJ sang teasingly. Emily smacked her on the arm lightly, and everyone started laughing.

"I need more alcohol before I reveal any more," Emily declared standing up. "Tequila shots?" The others nodded and she went to the bar.

Returning to the table a few minutes later, Emily was laden with a tray with shot glasses, lime wedges, a salt shaker and a bottle of tequila. They each took a shot, shaking their heads at the bitter taste.

A few hours later Emily opened the front door to Morgan's house, receiving a warning growl from Clooney before he recognised her. She stumbled in the dark, unfamiliar hallway, putting her coat on the hook. Morgan had offered to pick them up, but she said they could make their own way home, not wanting him to wait up. There had been alcohol, lots of it. And more questions, lots of them, too.

"Must have been one hell of a kiss to wait ten months for another?" Penelope had said to Emily. She'd even questioned the dynamics of their encounter in the shower. And her reaction to Emily mentioning the morning in the shower; "How did you not fall?"

Emily suddenly spun around as she heard the tap running in the kitchen. It was just then that she saw the slither of light coming from under the living room door. Pushing the kitchen door open, she found Morgan placing a glass of water on the counter as he flipped the switch on the coffee machine. He looked tired and his weary movements put Emily on edge.

"Morgan?" He turned to look at her. "What's wrong?"

"He had a nightmare," Morgan told her gesturing towards the living room. "I had to get him from an overnight café."

Instantly sobering, Emily walked quietly into the living room, Morgan following, where she found Spencer sprawled out on the couch. Sitting on the coffee table she softly reached out to push his wild hair out his face, not wanting to wake her young friend. Her heart broke as she saw the dried tear streaks and dark circles under his closed eyes. Emily could feel her own eyes watering, and hastily brushed the tears away.

"Did he take anything?" Emily asked Morgan as she locked gazes with him as he stood on the other side of the sofa.

"No," Morgan shook his head as he spoke. "I don't think he realised where he was until he got to that part of town. He got scared and called me. I told him to go to the café and wait for me."

Suddenly, Spencer started whimpering in his sleep. Emily stroked his face gently whispering reassurances. His eyes opened. "Emily?" He started to sit up, the blanket covering him dropping to his waist. Emily took the place where his head had laid, hooking her arm around him to pull his head to her lap, where he fell asleep again with her hand stroking his hair.

"Ssh," she whispered to him as she pulled the blanket back up under his chin. Morgan settled opposite them in the armchair, placing two cups of coffee and a glass of water on the table between them.

"He needs more help than I can give him," Morgan admitted quietly, and Emily nodded. "I've looked online and found a group that I want to take him to."

"He needs support, and people who understand what he's going through," Emily locked gazes with Morgan. "I think you're one of the best person for that job. Don't underestimate what you've done for him." Morgan began to shake his head, doubting himself. "Grief is a long process, there will be set backs. Just remember he called you before he took anything."

Morgan found some reassurance in her words as he sat back in the chair. "I'm glad you're here," he told her, glancing at Spencer as he finally looked peaceful.

Following his gaze, Emily nodded. "Me too."

They continued to watch over their friend, finally allowing themselves to drift off just before dawn. Emily awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the armchair opposite was empty. Looking down at Spencer, she was grateful that he was still sleeping peacefully. Moving out from under his head, she went into the kitchen.

Morgan held his arms open to her as he leant against the counter. She tucked herself into him as he held her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Emily knew he still felt guilty for Spencer's almost relapse. He had thought Spencer was getting better.

During the early hours of the morning, Morgan had been fighting his own exhaustion, when he'd had a nightmare of his own. He'd suddenly sat up and pinned her with a look of horror; Emily knew he was back in the warehouse again, with her in his arms, bleeding out. At her look of empathy, his scared expression was replaced by one of relief that she was in front of him, cradling Spencer.

Pulling back from his embrace, she kissed Morgan lightly on the lips before bringing her hand up to caress his face. "I'm going to extend my stay…" Emily started.

Morgan shook his head. "No, you've got that meeting to go to on Tuesday. You know you can't let Easter have total control over your operation." Emily nodded sadly. "And Amy is getting ready to pop, and I know you definitely don't want to miss that."

"I'm sorry," she told him; she couldn't shake the feeling that she was abandoning them.

"This is not your fault Emily, don't feel like you're letting us down," Morgan told her. Emily really wanted to believe him. They stayed in each other's embrace for a few more minutes, before Emily pulled back completely, scrunching her nose. "What?" he asked her.

"I smell of stale beer and tequila," she said looking down at her clothes. "I'm going to take a shower before Spencer wakes up."

A little while later, Emily came down from her shower to find Morgan and Spencer sat in the living room; with three cups of coffee on the table in front of them, a pamphlet lying there as well. Sitting next to Spencer on the sofa, she took a sip of her cup. Spencer turned to her with a guilt filled expression.

"I'm so sorry Emily."

"You have nothing to be apologising for," Emily told him gently.

"We'd met at the restaurant like we'd meant to, and we started to build a life together. Then one day we were walking along the Mall, when Diane came out of nowhere and shot her. Maeve died in my arms again." He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the images in his head, tears rolling down his face. "I haven't had a dream like that in weeks."

Emily looked to Morgan for guidance, but his expression mirrored Spencer's, and she knew he'd had similar dreams while she'd been gone. Neither man seemed surprised by the others' reaction; obviously they had shared a lot while Morgan had been talking Spencer through his grief. Unable to keep looking at them, Emily's eyes drifted to the pamphlet on the table. It was slightly tattered from where it was folded, and it looked old. It was for a support group at a local community centre. Sensing Morgan's gaze on her, Emily looked up to him, seeing his guilt there. He never found the group online; he'd gone to the group himself. Her heart broke for all the grief she had caused him, and she wondered how he still wanted to be with her.

"I'm going to go to the group with Morgan," Spencer interrupted their silent conversation. "I think it will be easier to talk to more people who have been through this as well. Talking to you has helped, but I think I might need more time, more help, but I can't do it alone." The last part was directed just at Morgan, gratitude evident in his voice. "Thank you for coming to get me last night," he whispered.

"Anytime Kid," Morgan told him.

They convinced Spencer to stay with them for the rest of the day, just watching old movies, in between playing some board games or cards, allowing him to talk when he wanted. Morgan insisted that Spencer sleep in his guest room that night.

In Morgan's room, Emily lay curled up in Morgan's arms, neither of them sleeping, taking comfort in the other against the emotional upheaval the day had brought. A slither of moonlight peeked in from the break in the curtains, illuminating their bodies.

"Why didn't you tell me about the support group?" She asked him. Morgan contemplated his answer, briefly closing his eyes.

"You had so much guilt dealing with the grief of six people, that I couldn't tell you," he opened his eyes. "Penelope gave me the leaflet; she knew I wasn't sleeping when we were keeping watch on Declan. I had only been to a few sessions before you came back, when the dreams got bad, like Reid's last night."

"Tell me about them," Emily implored.

"No, it's in the past now," he shifted away from her.

"You may have said Doyle's in the past, but if you still have those nightmares now then they're still an issue," she told him gently.

"I don't still have them, they ended the minute you walked into the conference room; today was just a reaction to Reid's nightmare." He swallowed, drawing her back to him. "Sometimes I'd be in the corner of the room watching you be with him, watching him touch you." He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "Sometimes I used to dream of Doyle stabbing you over and over again with that table leg, you would die in my arms; other times I would be sitting with you in the hospital, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you how I felt." The moonlight caught the tear as it slid down his cheek. Emily reached up to brush it away.

"We know all too well about the monsters that lurk in the darkness, for every one we arrest there are still ten out there," Emily told him, pausing before continuing wondering how he would take her confession. "When I went undercover, I despised Doyle, hated him for the things he did without a conscience. The way he was with Declan, it made me bond with him, all he wanted was to protect his son and make a good life for him; but Doyle's version of a good life was to make sure he grew up to be just like him. I had to do whatever I could to get Declan away from that and protect him." Emily took a deep breath before continuing

"When you're deep undercover, things become blurred and I admit that my feelings for Doyle were confusing; my time in London has helped me deal with that, getting closure on that time in my life. I hate that man for the pain he has caused everyone, especially you. But I want you to know I have no confusion about my feelings for you." Emily propped herself up on her hand, drawing back to look him in the eye.

"With one look you make me feel safe and loved. It takes you a while to trust people, but soon after we met, you showed your trust in me by revealing your fears and private thoughts about cases, and it made me trust you in return. You accepted me for all of my quirks. You're just as stubborn as I am, but that's part of what makes you a great agent; you don't let things go until they're resolved.

"When I was in Paris, I kept thinking about you in that warehouse, refusing to let me go. I knew you would go after Doyle, desperately wishing you wouldn't. " She was crying along with him now, and he tightened his hold on her. "Coming home, I saw the damage I caused; I couldn't risk losing you a second time. Couldn't risk telling you how I felt. I needed you to be in my life, as a friend if nothing else."

Morgan's lips found hers with a kiss filled with emotions that her confession provoked in him. "And now?" He asked pulling back from her.

"I've fought my feelings for you for a long time. I still have those doubts, but I don't want to run away again. We need to be honest with each other, no matter how much we want to spare the other the hurt the truth may bring." Morgan's relief was evident on his face. "Promise me that when you take Spencer to the group, you will talk if you need to. If not to me, then to someone." He nodded, before swallowing the lump in that formed in his throat.

"I love you," he confessed, kissing her lightly on the lips. Pulling back he could see the whites of her eyes as they widened slightly at his admission. They may have talked about love, but neither of them had said those three little words, till now. "I didn't say it to hear it back," Morgan reassured her, he worried he'd said too much too soon.

Overcoming her shock, her lips crashed to his as she pushed them so she was lying on top of him. Pushing herself so she sat across him, bracing herself on her knees, sheets pooling at her waist. "I'm scared," Emily whispered as she looked down at him.

"Of what?" Returning her gaze, Morgan stroked the bend of her knee with his fingers.

"Of not being what you need."

"You're all that I need," he whispered as he moved his hands to her back to pull her down to him, running his hands over her back.

Emily allowed herself to be pulled down, pausing when there was a barely any space between them. "I love you," she whispered against his lips.