Again, many thanks for the reviews. You really are just an awesome bunch of people!

So...here it is. The conversation you've been waiting for.

I admit I'm a bit nervous about posting this one since a lot of you have been waiting around for it for many chapters. I hope it meets your expectations and the wait has been worth it. Happy reading! =)

"Platonic love is like an inactive volcano." – Andre Pevost

"Prentiss," I hear her say after a few rings.

"Hey Emily, it's Derek. You got any plans tomorrow?"

"Uhh, not really, no. Why?"

"Well, since you don't have anything terribly exciting planned…"

"I'm listening…"

"I'm going to work a bit on one of my properties, and I was hoping you'd join me."

I can hear the smile in her voice as she responds, "You're trusting me with power tools and sledgehammers?"

"Good god no! I'm trusting you with a paint brush, and maybe a roller if you prove yourself capable."

"Painting? You want me to help you paint? Hang on, what do I get out of this?"

"What, spending time with Derek Morgan isn't enough?"

"Don't push it buddy. If your ego gets any bigger, it'll crush you."

I chuckle lightly, "So you're in?"

She sighs dramatically in exasperation, "I suppose I can squeeze you in."

I smile widely, "Great. I'll pick you up at 8."

"In the morning?" she says in surprise.

"Gotta start early – there's lots to be done."

"You better bring me breakfast then," she bargains.

Taking a sip from my cup of coffee, I raise my hand and knock softly on her door. I hear a small groan immediately, followed by slowly shuffling feet, and finally several clicks as she unlocks the various latches on her door. She squints as she opens the door a crack, letting in a sliver of light that seems to blind her. It's clear she's not fully awake yet.

I wordlessly hold out the bag I'd brought with. She narrows her eyes and snatches it from my grasp before opening the door completely to let me in. I take just one step forward before she grabs my coffee from my grasp and shoots me a look that dares me to object to her action.

I smirk at her antics and shake my head with a chuckle as I close the door. I know better than to cross Emily Prentiss before she's had her morning coffee.

After a few minutes have passed, and she has consumed the remainder of my coffee as well as the the strawberry danish and French toast flavoured bagel I'd brought along for her, I decide to test the waters.

"I thought you gave up coffee."

She shrugs, "What can I say? I relapsed."

I chuckle lightly, "Can't say I'm surprised. You, give up coffee? That's about as likely as me finishing my reports on time, or you know, pigs flying. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did."

She shoots me an unimpressed look and I throw my hands up in surrender, "I'm just saying."

I see the tiniest of smiles sneak onto her face, and I can't help but grin in response.

"You ready to go?" I ask. "There's no hurry though," I add quickly, not wanting to rush her.

"Yeah, we can go. But we're stopping for coffee on the way. My treat, since I seem to have deprived you of yours."

I smirk, "That's a sacrifice I was willing to make – I'm certainly not going to be the one getting between Emily Prentiss and her coffee, I value my life too much."

She fails to contain a smile, "A wise decision, Derek Morgan. Very wise."

"Really?! A pickup truck? Well aren't you just the vision of a stereotype!" she quips as she climbs into the passenger seat and buckles her seatbelt.

"Hey, it's not like I just drive it for fun, I actually use it for working on my properties!" I protest quickly in my own defense, shooting her an unimpressed look.

"Mmhmm. You're such a boy, with your fancy power tools and big truck. Compensating for something there, Morgan?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I say with wagging eyebrows and a wink.

Her face flushes and her eyes widen before she quickly retorts, "In your dreams, buddy."

I smile and turn over the engine before pulling out onto the road and heading toward the local coffee shop. The witty banter only serves to increase the ache that settled into my heart two nights ago at JJ and Will's wedding when she told me she was leaving for London. I had sworn to myself I wouldn't ask her to stay, and I would let her do what she needed to do to be happy, she deserves that. But every interaction seems to be a point in favour of not letting her leave, and I feel my resolve slowly melting away.

With each of us armed with a fresh cup of coffee, we make our way over to my property, the truck weaving through the neighbourhood streets.

"This area is gorgeous," she comments as she stares out the window at the passing scenery.

"Yeah, I couldn't say no to the house when I drove through this neighbourhood. Even if I only spend a few hours every so often here, I can't help but fall in love with it every time I drive through it."

"I can see why. These trees are absolutely amazing, and this architecture is impressive."

"My mama never fails to let me know it's the perfect place to raise a family, what with the nearby schools, and safe streets."

I clamp my mouth shut quickly as I realize spouting off about families and schools probably isn't the best way to convince myself to let her go.

She smiles warmly, meeting my gaze briefly before she frowns in confusion, "Hang on, don't you usually flip these houses pretty quickly? How long have you had this one?"

"I've had it a while. I just can't seem to let it go. I always find a new project to start in it. I guess I'm just not ready to sell it yet."

"If you love it so much, why don't you move into it?" she asks as she tilts her head slightly.

I shrug, "I wouldn't do it justice. A family should live in it, not an aging bachelor."

"So keep it for when you do settle down."

I pause and consider her suggestion. It hadn't consciously occurred to me, but maybe that's what I'd been doing all along.

"Huh. Maybe. It's still got a lot of work left in it though."

"Is this it?" she asks as I pull into the driveway.

"Yep. This is it."

"Wow, Derek. This place is amazing," she says as her eyes take in the house's distinctly colonial exterior.

"You haven't seen the inside yet," I warn her.

She smiles, "I'm sure it's just as spectacular as the outside."

"Spectacular? Oh man, now I hope the work I've already done is up to your standards, princess."

Her smile widens at the use of my nickname for her, "Well if it is terrible inside, I'm sure my painting will go a long way to fixing it."

We unload my tools, various paint cans, and miscellaneous equipment from the truck and make our way to the front door. I fumble with my keys for a moment before unlocking the door and opening it, gesturing for her to enter first.

"You want the grand tour?" I ask after we drop the tools and equipment on the floor.

She nods quickly, "Yes, please."

"Sorry about the mess and all the sheets. I'm storing a few pieces of furniture here and I didn't want to damage them while I worked."

"Understandable."

I lead the way toward the room to the left of the foyer, "This is the study."

She nods as her eyes scan the room, and her fingers gently trace the frame of the windows that open onto the front porch. Her eyes are drawn to the large shelves lining the wall.

"I thought it was the kind of room that deserved a dedicated space for books, so I put in those shelves."

She smiles, her inner nerd apparently pleased with this decision. Her gaze shifts slowly from the front windows to the doors across the foyer.

I answer her unspoken question, "Those are the front closet and powder room."

"Ah, okay."

We continue toward the back of the house, stopping at the base of the stairs to the second floor.

"This is the great room, kind of a den and family room all rolled into one I guess. Those doors at the back open onto the deck," I say, pointing to the room at the back of the house, beyond the staircase.

"The fireplace is beautiful," she says as her eyes land on the natural stone.

"Yeah, it took a while to restore it, but it was well worth it. It turned out great."

She nods in response, her eyes scanning the room once more.

"Over there is the formal dining room," I say as I gesture to the area just to our right. "And of course this is the kitchen. There's a pantry just through that doorway there."

"It's nice that the kitchen opens onto the dining room. Most of the houses I grew up in had dining rooms that were completely segregated from the rest of the house. It always made me feel very confined and isolated at meals."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. In the evenings you get a nice view of the sun setting too. Really makes it cozy and kind of paints itself as the ending of a modern day fairy tale, you know?"

'Really Derek, a modern day fairy tale? That's what you go with?' my inner voice scolds. That's how you're going to convince yourself to let her go?

She offers a small smile in response before taking a peek through the windows that overlook the backyard, "The deck looks a bit worn, but it's a good size."

"Yeah, it's next on my list of things to fix," I say with a smile, glad we've moved past my shoving my foot in my mouth. "Good news is that it's mostly just finishing the wood, structurally speaking it's sound."

"This house has good bones," she remarks.

I smile at her interest in the house, "Yeah, it really does. Maybe that's why I haven't gotten rid of it yet."

She chuckles, "Maybe."

"Let's head upstairs, you're gonna love the master bath."

"Lead the way," she says with a quick gesture.

As we head upstairs, she peppers me with questions about the different features of the house.

"Is the hardwood all throughout?"

"Yep."

"Original wood?"

"Yep, I did have to replace a small bit of it in a couple places though."

"How old are the windows?"

"Just installed them a few months ago."

"How many bedrooms?"

"Four. And before you ask, it's two and half baths. Ah, here we are. That's the laundry room there."

"On the second floor? That's uncommon for a house like this."

"Yeah, definitely something that caught my eye when I was looking at this place initially. It was in shambles when I bought the place though. I had to put new flooring in there, and patch a ton of holes in the walls."

"Looks pretty good to me," she says as she pokes her head into the room.

"Over in the corner there is a bedroom – it's got a great view out the front of the house. This back corner room is the master bedroom. It's got a huge walk-in-closet, a reading nook, and an amazing view out over the green space that the house backs onto."

"A reading nook?"

"That's what you focus on out of all of that?"

"When are you going to remember that I'm a nerd?!" she quips back quickly.

"How could I forget?" I say with a smile. "And this is the master bath that I just finished up a few weeks ago."

"Ooh! Is that a soaker tub?"

"I knew you'd like that, princess," I say with a smirk, remembering a certain date with a hot tub that I hadn't been invited to.

"It's huge!"

"That's what they all say," I say quickly, earning a quick reddening of her cheeks for my efforts. "The other two bedrooms are in the front corner of the house over there."

After taking a peek inside the remaining bedrooms and shared bathroom, she gives me her analysis, "This house is absolutely gorgeous. You're lucky to have found it. I wouldn't sell it if I were you. Definitely hang onto this one."

"It's too big for me, princess. What am I going to do with all those bedrooms? Clooney and I only take up two at most. And we both know he wouldn't even bother with the stairs, he'd probably sleep on a couch downstairs."

She chuckles, "I'm not saying move in here now, I'm saying hang onto it for when you settle down and start a family."

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

She shakes her head, "No, you have to keep it, Derek. This place is way too special to sell. I can see you living here."

"Haha, okay, okay. I'll hold off on selling it, I promise."

She smiles triumphantly, "Good."

By dinnertime we'd managed to finish up the entire upper and lower floors' 2 primer coats, and had decided to call it a day.

"What are you feeling for dinner?" she asks as she puts the lid back onto the can of paint.

"How do you feel about Thai? There's a great little place not too far from here, but unfortunately they don't deliver."

"Thai sounds good," she says, flashing me a smile.

"Good. I'll go pick it up. Kick back and relax, princess. There's beer in the fridge, and a TV is hooked up in the great room if you want."

"Sounds good. Don't be too long, I'm starved."

"I won't, I promise. Half an hour, tops."

"Go already!"

"Okay, okay."

"Derek!"

I stop my current task of retrieving the Thai food from the passenger seat and turn my head toward the sound of my name. I smile warmly as I see one of my neighbours walking toward me.

"Mrs. Lochley, hello. How are you?"

"Excellent, dear. Yourself?"

"Just fine, thank you."

"Working on the house again?"

I nod, "Yeah, almost getting to the finishing touches part of the process."

Her expression falls slightly, "Does that mean you'll be selling it soon?"

"Not right away. I have a few more things to finish up."

"You should really think about keeping that place, it's a great house."

"So everyone keeps telling me," I say with a small smile. "But I should be getting back inside. My friend is waiting on this food for dinner."

"Ah, so that's who's playing the piano. I was wondering who was in there."

"Piano? What do you mean?"

"Open your ears, young man. Don't you hear that? Whoever it is is quite talented."

I pause for a moment and focus on the sounds coming from the house. I'm surprised to notice that Mrs. Lochley is right – a beautiful melody is making its way to our ears from the house. I had forgotten about the old piano that had come with the house when I bought it.

"You go on ahead dear, and tell whoever it is playing, thank you. It's been a long time since I've heard music performed that well. And don't forget, you promised me a tour of the house when you finish up."

I nod solemnly, "Of course. You have a good night, Mrs. Lochley."

"You too, Derek," she says with a wave as she heads back toward her own house.

My focus shifts back to the piano's gentle notes that drift to my ears. Mrs. Lochley wasn't exaggerating – the melody is the mark of an accomplished pianist.

I quietly open the front door, and place the bags holding our lunch on the ground in the foyer. I walk toward the great room and lean on a freshly painted (but now dry) wall. I watch as her fingers move swiftly across the keys, and her entire body moves along with the melody. Her eyes are closed, not in concentration, but to allow her to immerse herself fully in the music. Her expression is thoughtful, and I realize that this is the most relaxed I've seen her since before the whole Doyle debacle.

Not wanting to disturb her, I move quietly to the lounge chair covered by a large sheet and sit down. My eyes remain fixed on her as the piece comes to an end and she finishes with a small flourish. Her eyes open slowly and she takes a deep breath as she lifts her hands from the keys.

A few seconds pass before she directs a question toward me without turning, "How long have you been sitting there?"

"A couple of minutes. You've been holding out on us, princess. That's pretty impressive."

She shrugs, "I took lessons growing up. It was pretty much the only thing my mother approved of me doing during my childhood."

"What were you playing just now?"

"Bach's Prelude in C major."

"It was beautiful."

"Thank you," she says quietly, and I'm somewhat shocked by her shy tone.

"Will you play me something else?"

"I didn't take you for a fan of the piano."

"Princess, anyone would be a fan of the piano after hearing such beautiful music, especially performed by such a beautiful woman."

Her cheeks tinge red again and she turns away quickly, moving to pull down the cover over the keys. I jump to my feet and move across the room swiftly, putting my hands on hers, stopping her motion.

"Play me something," I breathe, my mouth just inches from her ear.

A beat of silence passes before she replies quietly, "What do you want to hear?"

"Anything," I tell her as I release my hold on her hands and sit down beside her on the bench.

Her gaze lowers and focuses on the keys as she seems to try and pull a particular piece from memory. She blinks several times slowly before taking a deep breath and poising her fingers above the keys. She closes her eyes and lowers her hands, beginning the piece she'd been trying to recall.

The notes fill my ears and I'm once again struck by the beauty of the melody. It is haunting, but hopeful, and I can't help but think of how much it reminds me of her – haunted by her past, but hopeful for the future. With every note I can feel the stress rolling off of her, a temporary peace taking its place.

As the minutes pass, I'm struck by how beautiful she looks, her fingers dancing over the keys, and her expression so peaceful. The room is filled with the setting sun's light, tinged with red and gold rays. I close my eyes briefly, letting the music's notes sink in and inhaling her scent deeply. I open my eyes once more and let my eyes take in every inch of her, committing her to memory, just in case she might disappear again.

When the piece comes to an end and she opens her eyes, I realize I'm staring but can't seem to look away. In that moment I come to a decision - regulations and being the nice guy be damned, I can't let her leave again.

She turns to face me, her eyes wide and her expression shy. I open my mouth to speak, but the words I want to say don't come, and instead I find myself asking her what piece she played.

"Part of Chopin's Nocturne," she says softly, her gaze dropping to her hands that now sit in her lap.

My mind races, trying to convince my mouth to speak the two words that I desperately want to say. 'Don't go' is such an easy phrase to utter, and yet my mouth stays clamped shut. Instead, I lift my hand and gently tilt her chin up until her eyes, filled with questions, worry, and carefully guarded hope, lock with mine. With the notes of the piece still echoing softly in my mind, I close the small gap between us and gently press my lips to hers.

It seems that both an eternity and a fraction of just a moment have passed before I slowly pull away. Things seem to move in slow motion as I open my eyes just in time to see her eyes open. They are dark with emotion, and her expression is a mixture of surprise and confusion. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, her expression switching to one I've never seen on her.

Her eyes open again after what seems like hours pass, and she just stares at me. Suddenly, her hand is on my cheek, and she's kissing me. When we break apart, the need to breathe becoming overwhelming, I finally find I'm able to speak.

"Stay," I say, my voice so quiet I'm not sure she heard me. I can only hope she understands what I'm asking.

She presses her lips together in a smile as she nods, and I see small tears glisten in the corners of her dark eyes.

"Okay," she whispers.

Well... there you have it. I'd love to hear what you think...