Big thanks to everyone who left a few (or many!) words on the last chapter - your support is much appreciated.

Here is the continuation of the Morgan-Prentiss conversation. Hopefully all you Morgan-Prentiss fans enjoy it - I know I had fun writing it.

As always, happy reading =)

"Kiss me, and you will see how important I am." – Sylvia Plath

"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.

"Really? I ask, not quite believing what I'd heard. "You'll stay?"

She bites her bottom lip shyly before answering in the form of a question. "Do you really want me to?"

My mind barely registers her question as my eyes meet her gaze and all I can notice is that her eyes seem impossibly large and of infinite depth, while her expression is a mix of hope and preparedness for disappointment.

In that moment I see a side of Emily Prentiss I've never seen before; one which is shy, and hopeful, and naïve, and soft. It's a side that's been tucked away for a long time I think, hidden beneath layer upon layer of strong defenses hardened over the years by letdowns and disappointment. In that moment I see beyond the decorated FBI, CIA, and Interpol agent, and beyond the daughter of a respected diplomat. I see into the soul of a woman desperate to find her place in this world, and find the person she's supposed to search for it with. I see the side of her that wants for love, and not-so-secretly hopes for that fairy-tale ending.

"More than anything," I breathe.

At my words, she inhales and squeezes her eyes shut as the corners of her lips turn upward. When she lets out the breath, she opens her eyes, and I watch as a few stray tears escape. I wipe them away gently with my thumb, and watch her eyes look at me with that mix of fear and hope – almost like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, for me to leave.

I consider saying something to banish the very thought that I would leave, but decide to let my actions do the talking. I lean in, close my eyes and brush my lips against hers. It takes just a fraction of a second, but in that time I feel the fear she was holding onto dissipate, and she seems to relax. My hand finds its way to the back of her head, my fingers winding through her hair. Every barrier we'd carefully put up has been broken down, and I find myself kissing her with a passion and intensity I'd never experienced before. Whereas the previous kisses were tentative, gentle and searching, this one is passionate and fiery.

This time when we break apart, her eyes remain closed for longer, and she seems stunned. When her eyes do open, they're wide and dark with passion. I see a familiar mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she grins.

"What the hell took you so long?"

I let out a chuckle. "Honestly? Part of me was worried you'd attack me for trying anything."

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"What? You've got a gun, and are a highly trained CIA and FBI agent. I think my fear was justified."

She covers her mouth with her hand, and tries to contain her laughter, but ultimately fails as loud laughs fill the room, echoing off the walls. I shake my head at her antics, but I'm struck by how happy and free she looks in this instant. Her eyes are alive with laughter, and her smile is wide and genuine for the first time in months. And I think that maybe she'd be okay with being like this forever – that maybe she'd be happy with me forever. And I know that I would be okay being like this forever, and that I would be happy with her forever.

"Didn't you go to get food?" she asks suddenly, her laughter finally dying down.

"Yeah, but someone distracted me with this piano," I tease. "I left it in the foyer. Come on, I know the perfect place we can eat it."

We both rise from the piano bench and head toward the foyer. I grab the bags and head toward the back door, pausing briefly to grab a stray blanket and throwing it over my arm.

"Come on, Princess," I say, holding out my free hand. "Let's go before we lose all the light."

She smiles shyly once more and puts her hand into mine. Our fingers intertwine and I lead her out of the house, toward the back of the property. I stop underneath a large sycamore tree, and drop the bags of food and the blanket. I pull her close and release our hands, wrapping my arms around her waist. Her arms find their way around my neck, and I rest my forehead on hers as I close my eyes and breathe in her scent.

"Are you really gonna stay?" I ask as I open my eyes and gaze into hers.

"Yeah, I think I am," she says softly.

"Good. I'm not sure I could take losing you again."

"Then we'll just have to make sure I don't get lost again," she says with a smile.

I lift my head, press a kiss to her forehead and pull her in for a tight hug in agreement.

"They're so beautiful when you get out of the city," she says as she stares up at the stars dotting the black canvas above.

"Not as beautiful as what I'm looking at," I say, my gaze nowhere near the stars, and instead focused intently on her.

"Ugh," she groans and rolls her eyes. "Really?"

"What?" I ask.

"A cheesy line like that is the best you've got?" she says, shooting me a rather unimpressed look.

"You wound me."

"How did you ever become known as a ladies' man? I mean, if that's the best of your material…"

"Hey, those are just rumours," I object.

"Suuuuuuuurrrree. Don't think I haven't heard all about the great Derek Morgan. I've heard the stories about you from before I joined the team."

"Uhh again, just rumours."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, I might've been a bit of a player. For a little while. But I swear it was never as bad as they all said."

"Derek Morgan, admitting he wasn't as big of a player as the rumours suggest? Well that's interesting. Isn't that a reputation most guys want?"

"I'm not most guys, which is something I really hope you already know. Besides, my mama would have my head if she knew how I was back then."

"Aw, that's so cute."

"What, that I'm worried what my mama thinks?"

"No, that you think she doesn't already know."

"Wait, what? She knows?"

"Mmhmm. Unless there's another reason she made such a big deal out of you bringing me home to meet her?"

"I didn't bring you home to meet her, I brought you home to help you heal."

"Regardless, she made sure to remind me, several times, that "Derek hasn't brought any of his girls home" to meet her and that I "must be pretty special" to you to get that honour," she says, using air quotes to emphasize her point.

"You are, Princess. Trust me."

We fall into silence that is both comfortable and full of passion. We lay next to each other, eyes sneaking glances at the other, feeling and acting decidedly like teenagers falling in love for the first time. After a few minutes of this silence and stolen glances, she reaches out and grabs my hand. The significance of the gesture is not lost on me – Emily Prentiss is not one to express her feelings. I squeeze her hand and bring it to my lips, pressing a kiss to it before dropping our hands back on the blanket between us. It occurs to me suddenly that things make more sense with her in my life, and that I don't want to – and I'm not sure I could – ever let her go again.

"Hey Derek?" she says, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"You should put a swing here."

Okay, I admit it. I absolutely love reading your reviews. If you've got the time, I'd love to hear what you think/what your impressions are.