Title: Elysium
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: They thought that it was only going to be one night. They were wrong. An unexpected pregnancy leads Emily and Derek to reevaluate their lives.
Author’s Note: Behold, the reason for the NC-17 rating.
Chapter Eleven
As the team flew back from Hutchison, Kansas, Emily found herself more exhausted than she had been in a long time. Part of that was the effect pregnancy was having on her sleeping habits, part of it was the fact that she’d practically given up caffeine, and part of it was the two week, seven corpse case they’d just come off of. Technically speaking, she was on desk duty until her transfer position became available, but considering the fact that most of their job was putting puzzle pieces together, it didn’t make much of a difference to the working schedule.
Mostly, she was looking forward to going home to where there weren’t six people, one of them on a video link, insisting that she should go back to the hotel and get some sleep. She was completely unsurprised when Morgan slid into the seat opposite her and said, ‘So how’re you doing?’
‘I had plenty of sleep last night,’ she told him bluntly, which was an understatement - because she’d slept so late, and because no-one had come in to wake her up, they hadn’t actually left Hutchison until well past noon.
‘That’s not what I asked,’ he said with a tired grin. Emily rolled her eyes, but relented.
‘It feels harder.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘Not just the bodies, or the families, or the complete and utter pointlessness of it all. Our reaction to it, and the fact that we keep doing this, and it all just stays the same, and it’s almost as though we’re giving up everything for nothing in return.’ She didn’t tell him that part of her felt maybe it was the right idea to get out of the game before it was too late. It was an issue she was still unsure about.
He leaned over and took her hand. ‘I wouldn’t say we got nothing out of it.’ Emily’s heart almost cracked in two at his words. She was pretty sure she hadn’t done anything so great in her life to deserve the affections of Derek Morgan. ‘Did you want to come around tonight?’ he asked, not letting go of her hand. ‘I’m pretty sure Clooney will be excited to see the only person who spoils him more than I do.’
‘That’d be fantastic,’ Emily agreed, without the slightest bit of hyperbole. She didn’t particularly care that the rest of the team might have been listening in, even if she and Derek had yet to officially announce the fact that they were making attempts towards a real relationship. That said, though, she’d be pretty surprised if the team hadn’t worked it out already anyway.
It didn’t stop them from regressing to adolescence; on their way out of the bullpen, once they’d returned to Quantico, Rossi tipped her a wink, and Garcia exploded into a fit of giggles. Never mind the fact that they hadn’t actually slept together again yet. ‘You two have fun,’ JJ told them with a smile, and Emily rolled her eyes.
‘You’d think we were getting ready to elope,’ she muttered, and she was almost relieved when he didn’t follow up her comment with a suggestion that they should elope. It didn’t matter how well things were going between them - the mere thought of marriage was enough to make Emily want to run for the hills. That terrified her more than anything.
Forty-five minutes later, she pulled into Derek’s driveway; he’d beaten her there by a few minutes, thanks to some unlucky traffic light timing. Clooney came rushing out the back door to greet her, but there was no sign of Morgan. Thinking that he had probably just gone to the bathroom, she let herself in, and slipped off her boots. The feet swelling hadn’t started yet, but they were aching nonetheless.
‘Derek?’ she called out, after realizing that he was taking way too long to be just using the toilet.
‘In the bathroom,’ he called out. ‘Come here.’
She followed his voice cautiously, half afraid that he was going to ask her to grab a roll of toilet paper. But no. The lights were dimmed, and he’d filled the tub, bubbles nearly flowing over the edge.
‘Long hot bath after a hard case, right?’ he asked. ‘You just relax, and I’ll get dinner started.’ It was way too early for him to be cooking dinner, but she figured he wanted to give her some space. The problem was, she didn’t want space anymore.
‘You have frozen leftovers?’ she asked him. She knew he’d been cooking a lot with Reid, freezing the excess for later consumption.
‘Sure.’
‘Good.’ She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him towards her, locking his lips in a tight, breathless kiss. ‘Because you are seriously making me hot right now.’
He pulled away. ‘Em-…wait.’ Her heart skipped a beat until he moved to push the door shut. ‘Really don’t want Clooney walking in on this.’
She grinned. ‘You are a perfect gentleman, Derek Morgan,’ she murmured, her mouth against his neck. Her fingers went straight to his buttons, trembling slightly, and she was vaguely aware of the fact that he was returning the favor. The last time they’d done this, she’d ended up pregnant. Of course, she didn’t regret that, especially not after the last two months she’d spent with Morgan.
She took her time, letting her hands run over the well-sculpted ab muscles, the firm pecs. His nipple was hard underneath her touch, and if the bulge in his pants was anything to go by, something else was rapidly getting hard as well.
The first time around had been more about gratification, and she’d paid less attention to his body than she would have liked to. Now, though, she realized that Garcia’s saucy nicknames didn’t do him a lick of justice.
‘God damn, Morgan. You could intimidate unsubs into confession with this body,’ she blurted out, and the resulting grin from Morgan was almost worth the embarrassment at the sheer cheesiness of the line.
‘I think I prefer yours,’ he told her frankly, his fingers brushing her back, teasing the clasp of her bra. He was giving her a chance to turn him down, she realized, which really, only made her want him more. She gave her seal of approval by going to work on his belt buckle.
Her bra fell to the floor, and she paused briefly as Derek’s hands cupped her breasts. They were somewhat larger than they had been, thanks to the hormones and the fact that she’d been eating roughly five times as much ice-cream as she used to.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he murmured, hunching slightly to let his lips take over from his hands. ‘Condom?’ he asked, and Emily started at him.
‘I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you?’ she deadpanned.
‘Just wondering,’ he shrugged.
‘Maybe we should do this in the tub,’ Emily replied - Derek was bending kind of awkwardly, and things would probably go a lot smoother if they were lying down.
His hands dropped to his pants in order to finish what Emily had started. Emily let her own pants fall to the ground, and for a moment they both stood there, completely naked. Baring mind, soul and body to each other. She was half surprised he hadn’t run away by now, but that was a reflection on her, rather than on him. She was even more surprised that she hadn’t run away.
Emily stepped forward.
Their lips locked in another kiss, and she let her hand curl around his erection, hyperaware of the fact that her stomach was starting to bulge in a way that she found unattractive, but Morgan couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of.
He lowered her gently into the bath, soapy water sloshing over the sides. Half a dozen scents permeated her nostrils, most of which she couldn’t differentiate from one another. ‘Did you go shopping for bath salts?’
‘Well I figured plain old bubble bath wouldn’t quite cut it.’ He followed her in, displacing even more water. They could always fill it up again afterwards.
She let her hands run down his chest as he paid closer, more careful attention to her breasts, using his lips, his tongue, his teeth, the oversensitive flesh making the experience that much more satisfying. She held his head close, making sure not to drown him in the soapy water. His right hand drifted down to her thigh, teasing her lightly before pushing a finger inside. He had strong hands - she could have deduced that just from the way he held her - and thrust with long, hard strokes. Emily clutched at him tighter, trying not to buck her head backwards into the edge of the tub. She gave a gasp as he slid another finger in, his thumb brushing her clit, and his lips encircling her nipple all the while.
Emily cried out his name, and it seemed so perfect on her lips, like some stupid, wonderful cliché. ‘Oh my God, Derek,’ she muttered, as he pulled away. ‘I know pregnancy is supposed to give me some kind of insatiable sex drive, but if you keep getting me off so quickly, then I’m going to be unconscious for the next four days.’
‘I feel like I need to test that theory,’ he said, catching her lips in hard, messy kiss.
‘You sure you can keep up?’
‘Let’s find out,’ he grinned, lining their bodies up. She curled her arms around his neck as he thrust into her in one fast move. His size took a little getting used to. They both came quickly, and the short-lived nature of the encounter reminded Emily just how exhausted they were, though - neither of them would be running a marathon any time soon.
Emily leaned back into Morgan’s arms as he turned on the taps - there was probably just as much water on the floor as there was in the tub.
‘That was nice,’ Emily said, her words soft. ‘This is nice.’
‘Yeah,’ Morgan agreed. ‘This is nice. Maybe we should have done this four years ago.’
She gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t think this would have worked out four years ago.’
‘No?’
‘“All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon sand.”’ Emily froze, realizing that she’d just used the “L” word. If Morgan had noticed - either the words, or her reaction, then he didn’t say anything. She was fooling herself if she thought he hadn’t noticed.
‘Ella Wheeler Wilcox, right?’
‘Right,’ she laughed, her horror at her carelessness overcome by amusement at the fact that he was familiar with what wasn’t exactly the most masculine kind of poetry. ‘“Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone.”’
‘You think that’s true?’ he asked, and Emily gave a shrug.
‘Sometimes I wish it was,’ she told him, thinking of Matthew, of Italy. Maybe things would have turned out more favorably if he hadn’t helped her.
Morgan shook his head. ‘I kind of wish someone had been there for me, when…’ he trailed off, and she knew he was thinking about Carl Buford. Finally, he said. ‘“Ella”…That’s a nice name.’
Recognizing the blatant subject change, Emily was willing to comply. ‘How about Victoria?’
‘I dated a girl named Victoria once.’
‘So we have to discount the names of all the girls you’ve dated? That leaves like…two names.’ He gave her a playful nudge.
‘She turned out to be…let’s just say it didn’t end well. Mia?’
‘Mmm,’ Emily hummed. ‘Mia Morgan - sounds like a Marvel superhero. Eric?’
‘Eric’s good,’ Morgan nodded. ‘But I am not going to fuel your inexplicable obsession with CHiPs.’
‘That obsession is between me and Ponch. Montana Wildhack.’
‘I am not naming our child after a fictional porn star.’ Emily rolled her eyes - it wasn’t as though she’d been serious anyway.
‘Optimus Prime,’ she continued. ‘James Tiberius. Zeus.’
‘Now you’re just being silly.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Christopher.’ His voice sounded a little more serious, and it took Emily a few seconds to figure out why.
‘Your father’s name?’
‘Yeah.’
She let that sink in. ‘It’s a good name. I like it.’ She cleared her throat. ‘What about Matthew…for a middle name, I mean.’
‘Christopher Matthew Morgan.’ He tested the name out. ‘That’s a good name…Unless - did you want to hyphenate the surname? Prentiss-Morgan? Or Morgan-Prentiss?’
Emily shook her head. ‘No. This kid has enough problems going for them without bringing politics into the mix.’
‘How do you mean?’ Morgan asked.
‘Trust me,’ Emily told him. ‘When you grow up with a name that people recognize, they start making judgment calls without ever having met you.’ She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to. Morgan needed to understand. ‘We still need a girl’s name,’ she added, taking her own turn at executing an abrupt change of subject. They were due to find out the baby’s gender fairly soon, all things considered, but Emily had been in the FBI long enough to know that things didn’t always go to plan.
Morgan swirled his hand in the water, letting his palm come to rest on her stomach, his other hand interlocking with hers. For a girl’s name, they settled on Abigail Alexandra, and Emily refused to make a comment about saving the leftover name for their next child.
‘You’re starting to prune,’ he told her, his hand squeezing hers tight.
‘I don’t care,’ she replied, and they stayed there together until long after the bubbles had disappeared.
...
The next morning brought pancakes, which were slowly becoming some kind of a tradition between them. Emily mixed the batter, and Morgan raised an eyebrow when she tossed in a liberal amount of chocolate chips.
Seeing his expression, she said, a little defensively, ‘Extra Chocolate-chip pancakes are the best kind of pancakes. Everything tastes better with extra chocolate.’
‘Everything?’
Emily winked. ‘Everything.’
Morgan shook his head. ‘Damn. I think we’re going to need to test that theory, too.’
‘Pity we’re out of chocolate,’ she shrugged, setting the bowl of pancake mixture on the counter, next to where Morgan was watching the frying pan heat up. He gave her a mock pout, but reminded himself to buy some form of chocolate syrup next time he went grocery shopping. He didn’t know whether or not Emily would be into that kind of thing, but that was what the dating game was all about. Discovering new things about each other. ‘Though,’ Emily added. ‘Reid told me that eating chocolate at least three times a week halves the risk of preeclampsia.’
She dipped her finger into the pancake mix and held it towards him. Uncooked, it tasted mainly of flour and chocolate chips, but Morgan knew that the taste was not the point of the exercise. ‘We haven’t christened the kitchen yet,’ Emily told him decidedly.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. ‘You want to have sex in the kitchen right now?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you think it would be better to wait until after pancakes?’
Emily considered the thought. ‘After pancakes,’ she agreed. ‘But remember, this is probably going to be the only time in our lives where I’m begging you for sex five times a day.’ It seemed strange that they’d only really started having sex again the previous night. It was like the seal had been broken, and her libido - hell, his too - was suddenly a free-for-all.
‘I dunno,’ he said. ‘I’m pretty addictive.’ But still, when the plates had been rinsed and were in the sink, he didn’t complain when she started unbuttoning his pajama shirt. More specifically, his pajama shirt that she was wearing.
He cast an appreciative gaze over the newly revealed flesh. It baffled him to think that once upon a time he hadn’t been so enamored, so in complete and utter lust with the woman before him.
‘Are you going to join in, or will I need to take care of this myself?’ Emily asked, pressing her naked form against him. He felt the blood rushing to his crotch. “Join in” was the unanimous response from body, mind and soul. He slid his pants off, glad that he had gone commando last night.
Because of their height disparity, he lifted her gently to the countertop, its surface still bearing collateral damage from their pancake mixing session, thanks to an impromptu flour war. He let his hands run up and down her thighs, and then over her stomach, relishing the softness of her skin. ‘This is incredibly unhygienic,’ she muttered, but made no signs of changing her mind.
Emily’s body arched as he pushed himself up, inside of her, and she gave a soft moan. Morgan settled one hand on her hip, keeping her steady, while with the other he brushed his finger against her clit - the movements a rhythm in tandem with the slower beat of his thrusts.
The climax was a little sticky, and it was a good thing they had to clean up the pancakes anyway. Morgan volunteered for that task while Emily went upstairs to shower. She was living out of her go-bag and the clothes that had been periodically left behind in his laundry hamper, but she’d been coming over so often lately that almost half her wardrobe was here already anyway.
Hopefully, though, if today went as planned, then the move would be made a little more permanent.
It was a big, huge, life-changing step - Derek Morgan was very much used to the bachelor life, and his habits reflected that. He left his towels on the floor, his socks didn’t always make it all the way to the laundry, and even with Emily here so often, he preferred ordering pizza to putting a roast in the oven.
He met her on his way up the stairs, tank top and sweatpants clinging to her still wet body. He could see the outline of her baby bump clearly, a lot more accentuated than it had been even just a few weeks ago. ‘Hey,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll be down in a bit - big plans for today.’
Emily raised an eyebrow, tousling her hair with a towel. ‘Plans?’
‘Well as tempting as it sounds, I didn’t really want to lie around the house all day having sex.’
‘That does sound tempting,’ she agreed.
Morgan kissed her on the forehead. ‘I want to take you somewhere, only it’s a surprise.’
Her eyes widened. ‘A surprise?’ Morgan gathered from the somewhat terse, professional relationship between Emily and her mother that there hadn’t been that many good surprises during her childhood years.
‘A nice surprise,’ he amended.
He showered quickly, dressing for renovation. He’d made good progress on the house over the last couple of months, but there was still a lot to be done.
‘Where are we going?’ Emily asked as they pulled out of the driveway. Morgan gave a laugh.
‘Do you even know what the word “surprise” means?’
She crossed her arms and gave him a dangerously “Prentiss” look. The accentuated stubbornness, he figured, would be hanging around for the next five months, at least.
‘We are going to Fairfax,’ he relented. ‘That’s all I’m saying.’ It wasn’t quite enough to satiate her curiosity, but it was enough to keep her from demanding he stop the car and let her out. The mood swings, too, would be hanging around for a while. If she were anyone else, he might have balked at the thought, but he had seen Emily Prentiss at her best and her worst, and the best was damn well worth sticking around for.
As they drove through the suburban neighborhood, Emily’s eyes were fixed on the passing houses, no doubt attempting to profile their destination based on the clues available. If she figured it out - and he was pretty sure that she probably had - she didn’t say anything.
His suspicions were confirmed when they pulled to a stop in the quiet street; she was quiet, and he could see the tears glistening at the corner of her eyes.
‘Derek…’ she said softly, and even with all of his own profiling experience, he couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad.
‘Not yet.’ He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, moving around to the passenger’s side. She was still sitting there, unmoving, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake doing this so soon. Still - he didn’t want to leave it too late, otherwise they’d be into the third trimester, and moving then would be a complete bitch.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ he told her. ‘I just want to show you.’
Emily nodded, letting herself out of the car. Her eyes widened as she took in the two-story house, the backyard: a family home.
‘Please tell me you didn’t buy this house, Derek.’
He frowned. ‘I bought it - six months ago.’
She seemed to relax slightly at the words, as though buying a house for them to live in was somehow different to buying a house to renovate and then live in.
He dug in his pocket for the key, trying to keep his eye on Emily as well as make sure he didn’t trip over the step and crack his head open. She was walking slowly, as if trying to take in every detail.
It was a little dusty inside - he hadn’t been there in a few weeks, thanks to his newly active social life - and there was still a fair bit to be done, but he gave her the tour anyway.
It ended in the master bedroom, with Emily staring out the sash window, and Morgan standing in the doorway.
‘This is a big step,’ she said finally.
‘So’s having a kid,’ he shrugged. There was a moment’s silence. ‘Do you like the house?’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Emily said softly. ‘It still needs some work, though,’ she added, a little louder, and in something of a dry tone.
‘I’ve been a little busy,’ he replied, at the same time relieved that she’d recovered enough from the shock to put her deadpan humor into play. ‘I know this is…a little soon, I guess, but we both know what it’s like to grow up in a house without both parents around. I don’t want that for our child, and I know you don’t either.’
She nodded, head bowed, but didn’t say anything for several minutes. Finally: ‘Where am I going to put my hot tub?’
Morgan released the breath he didn’t realize that he’d been holding. He walked over to the window, and pulled Emily into his chest, kissing her forehead. ‘You are the most amazing woman in the world.’
She turned slightly in his arms, head tilting upwards. He leant down to kiss her. Their lips crushed together twice, before she pulled away gently.
‘I think your mother would have something to say about that.’
‘I think my mother would agree with me - she’s been hounding me for grandchildren since I left college.’
Emily gave a short laugh. ‘Grandbaby needs a place to sleep. ‘
‘That’s why we’re here.’ He led her back into the room that he’d envisioned as a nursery. It remained unpainted, because he didn’t want to go ahead and make decisions without Emily’s input, which was the main reason he’d slowed down on the renovations. ‘I was thinking blue. It’s a nice color, even for a girl.’
‘Blue is good,’ Emily agreed. ‘Versatile.’
They spent the rest of the day planning out colors, and furniture placement, and all the other little details.
‘We might have an excess of furniture,’ Emily pondered. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do with two lounge suites.’
‘It’s a big house,’ Morgan reasoned in reply. ‘We have enough room for all our stuff.’
‘I don’t know.’ Emily shook her head. ‘I have a lot of crap. My condo is practically a display house. And we still need to buy baby stuff.’
‘We’ll sort it out,’ Morgan assured her. ‘Even if it means having a yard sale.’
Emily’s expression turned to one of horror. ‘Oh God. A yard sale. I’ve never had a yard sale - it’s like the true marker of domesticity.’
‘Domestic doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to kick ass and take names. I must admit, FBI mom is a very sexy look.’
‘FBI dad is pretty sexy too,’ she told him matter-of-factly. ‘Kicking in doors…tackling unsubs. It’s a wonder I didn’t try to jump your bones years ago.’ She gave a pause. ‘I guess this means it’s time to tell the team. I mean…they already know, but we should probably tell them anyway.’
‘They can help move furniture.’
‘What still needs to be done?’ Emily asked him, letting her hand run across the unpainted walls of the room that would soon be a nursery. It lit a hopeful fire inside of him; as though she was eager to move in as soon as possible. But then, it was about practicality as well.
‘Mostly little things. Stuff that could probably get knocked over in a weekend, if I put my back into it.’
‘Good thing I’m dressed for it,’ Emily said, and Morgan was a little surprised at first, but then he remembered who he was talking to.
‘You really want to help?’
‘Well if I’m going to be living here too, I want to able to say that I actually did something. I kinda feel a little inadequate here, Derek.’
‘You were my motivation for most of this,’ he told her matter-of-factly, and he saw the blush that crept onto her otherwise pale skin.
‘It’s weird, hearing that,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t…growing up, my parents were focused mainly on their careers - I don’t resent them for that, but I’m not used to people doing things for me like this.’ She looked downwards, trying to avoid his gaze. Morgan lifted her chin, and laid a soft kiss on her lips.
‘Whatever happens, you and our child are my priority, Emily. Remember that.’ The words seemed to comfort her considerably.
‘So where can we put the hot tub?’ she asked, eyebrow raised, and he had to remind himself that there would be no watery shenanigans for at least another few months.
‘Outside?’ he ventured. ‘There’s probably room on the patio, and Clooney hates water so he won’t go near it. Or maybe we could build a gazebo or something for it.’
‘Maybe,’ she agreed, but her voice was somewhat distance. Maybe the talk of gazebos was a little too much too soon. He was almost surprised that he wasn’t so freaked out about things. Maybe he was a little more ready than he’d given himself credit for. Now that was a scary thought.
‘Four bedrooms,’ he said, changing the subject quickly. ‘One master, one baby room, one spare. We could turn the fourth into an office.’
‘Or,’ she countered. ‘Or, we could make the rumpus room the office, and use the basement for a rumpus room. I mean…do we even have anything to put in a rumpus room? Aside from your weights set?’
Morgan tried to think of something, but nothing came to mind immediately. ‘I guess if we get a playpen or something it could go in there, but then maybe it’d be better to keep that on the ground floor.’
‘Maybe,’ Emily echoed. Her voice was a little distant. Morgan gave her a slight nudge.
‘Hey. Everything okay?’
‘Yeah,’ she nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s just…Six months ago, if someone told me I’d be moving in with Derek Morgan…It’s just a little…surreal.’
‘I hear that.’ He pulls her into his arms, laying a kiss against her neck. ‘You want to go home, and we can make pancakes for dinner?’
‘We had pancakes for breakfast,’ she told him.
‘I know,’ he grinned. ‘I also know what we did after pancakes.’
‘Oh, Derek,’ Emily said. ‘I like the way you think.’