It had been over two years since Emily Prentiss had seen her husband.

She launched herself into her husband's arms and clung to him for dear life, as if he were the only thing keeping her upright. Her hands clutched tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed into his shoulder.

For his part, Derek Morgan was trying hard not to let his own tears show out of manly pride, but his grip on her was no less tight. He nuzzled his nose in her hair – it was shorter and lighter than it had been when he'd said goodbye to her so many months ago – and deeply inhaled her comforting scent that had thankfully remained unchanged. He rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes tightly, thanking any deity that was listening for returning her safely.

Finally, he could take it no longer and unwound her from around him and pulled her lips to his in a kiss he hadn't been entirely sure he'd ever get to have again.

"You are never allowed to leave my sight again," he whispered around the lump that had formed in his throat.

Emily choked out a laugh that was more than a little sob and reconnected their lips with the intensity of someone afraid of having something taken from them.

"I have missed you so much," he murmured against the skin of her neck before pressing a kiss there, "Please don't leave again."

She shook her head, eyes tightly closed, a few tears escaping again. "I turned in my resignation," she said breathlessly. "I'm done."

He couldn't help it, he lifted her up and spun her around. "Thank God...I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to you."

From somewhere behind them, a small voice whispered, "Laur-Emmy?"

Emily whipped around as if only just remembering the boy were there. "Come here, Declan. There's someone very special I want you to meet."

Derek looked at her with confusion in his eyes, one brow raised in silent question.

She shot him an almost sheepish smile as she bent down to lift the small boy into her arms. Resting him against her hip, she smiled tenderly at him. "Declan, this is my husband, Derek."

Derek obligingly extended his hand to shake the boy's and tried to fight the urge to ask questions about the utter confusion drawn on the boy's small face. The look on Emily's face was all too clear to him, though, so despite the fact that there was literally nothing he wanted more than to have his wife to himself, he pasted on a smile and asked the child, "Are you going to come home with me and Emily?"

Declan cast his eyes away, but nodded shyly, all the while Emily's eyes begging him to accept with the promise of an eventual explanation.

"I guess we should get going then," he smiled indulgently, "I don't know about you, but I'm sure hungry." Declan nodded again and damn if the kid wasn't downright adorable. "I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich...you wouldn't happen to like those, would you?" So much for the romantic meal he'd had planned, he sighed internally.


Derek watched from the doorway to the guest room as Emily put the little boy to bed, his tiny body swallowed up by the massive bed and its bulky down comforter. Tomorrow they'd have to go shopping for more appropriate furniture.

"Is Derek going to be my new daddy?" Declan asked softly, shyly, clutching tightly to the blankets drawn up to his chin.

Emily smiled down at him, tenderly stroking his blond curls away from his face. "Do you want him to be your daddy?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I miss my daddy..." he said, wringing his hands in the blankets, as if afraid of her reaction.

"You're allowed to miss him – he's always going to be your daddy," she reassured, tucking the comforter in around him.

He seemed to think about that for a long moment. "But you're my mommy now, right? Forever and ever?"

"Right," she agreed. "Forever and ever and three days after that. And I love you very much, okay?"

He nodded eagerly. "I love you too, Emmy."

"Good. Now, go to sleep, silly boy." She tapped his nose, then leaned in for an eskimo kiss.

When she turned to shut off the light, she saw Derek standing there and startled.

"How much of that did you hear?" she asked when she shut the door behind her, the boy already snuffling in his sleep, clearly exhausted by the trying day.

"Enough," he said cryptically, but clearly unimpressed, crossing his arms over his chest. "So...we have a son?"

"Please don't be angry," she begged, voice a faint whisper. "I'm the only person he has in the world now. He needs me."

"He's the child of him? The one you were sent to put away?"

She nodded, face sheepish. "It's not his fault, the man his father was...you can't turn him away because of it."

"What if he turns out like him?" he pressed.

"You know it doesn't work like that. What matters is how we raise him, not who fathered him," she insisted. "Please...don't send him away." She was not above begging for this...and Emily Prentiss didn't beg for anything.

"I'm not going to put him on the streets, Em," he said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I just wish you'd asked me first... What if I'm not ready to have a four year old?" He'd thought he'd have time to get used to the idea of being a father, time to learn and make mistakes and figure things out with time...instead, he had an instant family and no idea how to be a dad.

"We were going to try for a baby anyway, maybe this is just how it was meant to happen. We wanted a family, he needed one...the universe brought us together for a reason." Her eyes were pleading with him.

His expression remained unconvinced, but he extended his arms towards her and she gratefully fell into his embrace.