Dave shook his head. "You don't know what you want."
Emily practically growled in frustration, throwing her hands into the air. "Actually, Dave, that's the whole point! I do know what I want. And it's you - not the prosecutor that hit on me today, not Mick, not some random guy walking down the street. I want you!"
"No."
"No?" she asked, eyebrows rising.
"No. This isn't going to happen."
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped angrily at her cheeks. "So...what? That's it?"
He turned his back. "That's it."
She couldn't give up that easily. Not on this. Not on him. Moving forward slowly, she walked around until she was facing him. Then she took his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to the side of his face.
"Tell me you don't feel anything for me," she whispered.
"Emily -"
She kissed him softly, briefly. "Look me in the eye, and tell me you don't want me."
Dave sighed, raising his eyes to hers. "It's never been about feelings, Emily."
"Then why?"
"You deserve so much better," he murmured, kissing the side of her head. "I'm an old man, Emily. And more baggage than you can shake a stick at..."
"I'll forget your scars if you forget mine."
Dave frowned, looking down at her. "You're perfect," he whispered.
She rolled her eyes. "We both know that's a load of crap." She kissed him again. "I'm not giving up on you, Rossi."
Slowly, his hands came up to rest on her waist, pulling her just a little closer. "You saying I'm stuck with you?"
Emily nodded. "Pretty much."
This time, he kissed her, letting it linger. "I don't deserve you."
"We deserve to be happy, Dave. Both of us." Her eyes slid as her arms moved around his neck and she hugged him tightly. "Let us be happy."
He couldn't fight it anymore. Burying his face in her hair, he nodded, pulling her tight against him.