Complete Opposites
Title: Complete Opposites
Authors: inward_audacity
Beta: floatingamoebafloatingamoeba
Category: Romance/Humor
Rating: FRM
Warning: Sex, Language
Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Summary: They are as different as fire and ice yet they are attracted to each other like moths to a flame.
Authors' Note: AU. Written for cm_bigbang. Beautiful art done by the amazing krimskii can be found here. Go check it out now!
Emily Prentiss angrily tossed an assortment of newspapers and magazines on the ornate coffee table. "What's the meaning of this?" she glared at the man sitting opposite her. "Look at this! You're all over the news again. And not in a good way!"
"Relax, Emily..." Derek said lazily, "We can just ignore it and it'll be over before you know."
"God, Derek, grow up!" she chided, "This is ruining your reputation! Do you think your sponsors like seeing stuff like this all over the place? 'Derek Morgan - the new star of NFL is caught speeding again,'" she read aloud, glaring at him. "Again!"
"You were the one who said and I quote, 'Get your ass here as fast as you can.'I did exactly what you wanted," he argued.
"I never asked you to go a hundred miles per hour on the highway!" she said incredulously. "Just because you have a new Ferrari doesn't mean it gives you the green light to speed! You're a quarterback, not a professional racing driver!""
"You're my publicist. Do some damage control, and then I can move on," he said distractedly, his fingers moving quickly on the game controller.
"I always do damage control," she spat, "When will you do less damage so I can breathe a little easier?"
"You'd be out of job if I didn't cause problems for you to solve," he responded confidently, "You should thank me, Princess." She pulled the plug of his game console out of the socket and glared at him. "Hey! What did you do that for? I was about beat my high score!"
"Go to hell," she muttered darkly.
…...
Derek causally jogged into the field where a group of young boys waited eagerly to be coached by one of the hottest stars in the NFL. "Hi Derek!" they chorused, smiling excitedly.
"Hello boys," he smiled back, "Should we get started?"
"Yes!"
"Alright, warm ups first," he said seriously.
It was hard for Emily to want to hate him when she watched him interact with little children with so much enthusiasm and for a second, she almost believed that he cared about them although she knew Derek Morgan cared about no one but himself. As the boys dispersed to do their warm up routine, Emily pulled him aside and stared at him. "What?" he asked, a little annoyed. "I got here on time!"
"Did you speed?" she asked pointedly.
"No..." She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down until he broke. "Fine, I sped but only once!" he argued. "I made sure that there wasn't anyone around!"
"Should I stab you now since there's no one around and I'll only do it once..."
"It doesn't even make sense!"
"You don't make sense!" she retorted.
"You are too uptight," he remarked. "Relax. I'm Derek Morgan - what could happen?"
"Stabbed to death by your publicist should on the top of that list," she muttered under her breath.
"Okay, stabby," he said as he rolled his eyes, "I'll remember to keep knives and forks away from you."
Emily took a deep breath, calming herself down and brushed her away from her face. "You'd better do a good job today and make sure all the kids love you," she ordered, "Reporters are here and this will be a good chance for you to make up for the speeding ticket you got."
"You make it sound like it's rocket science," he grinned smugly, "Everyone loves me."
"Just do a good job or I swear, I'll kick your ass," she threatened.
"You said a bad word," a small voice said. She mentally cursed herself for not noticing the little boy standing near them. "Mommy says you can't say bad words...you're always 'posed to be nice."
"Yeah, Emily," the star quarterback smirked, "It's not nice to say bad words," which earned him a glare from her.
"You should 'pologise to Derek," the little boy said, looking up at her with his big blue eyes. She looked from the innocent little boy to the man who still acted like a boy and sighed. Glaring at Derek again when he mouth, "I'm waiting," to her.
"I'm sorry, Derek," she finally said it through gritted teeth.
"I forgive you, Emily," he winked and then looked at the little boy, "Henry, why don't you go join other boys. We're about to start."
"'Kay!" He grinned toothily and ran towards his friends.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Hard not to..."
"I can still stab you with my fountain pen and I will enjoy it, you know?"
"I'm so scared. Be nice, Emily," he smirked, patting her back before he ran out to his little fans, leaving her fuming mad in the shade.
....
Emily woke up to the sound of insistent knocking on her door and groaned, rolling over to see a bright red 2:11AM flashing across her alarm clock. Whoever or whatever it was, would have to wait until morning because she was not about to get out of her warm bed for anything short of a nuclear bomb.
That was the plan until she heard the person knocking on the door, calling out to her. "Emily Prentiss! Open the door before I break it down!"
That had Emily sitting upright and jumping out of bed in barely two seconds. She couldn't fathom why that infuriating Derek Morgan would be pounding at her door in the middle of the night. Flinging the door open, she swore it took all her self-discipline to not slam the door in his face although she wouldn't really have the chance to do that since he flung himself against her the instant the door opened.
"You're drunk," she muttered as the odour of the alcohol lingering on his body overwhelmed her nose. "How did you get here? Did you drive here?" she asked, a little louder than she had intended when he didn't reply.
"I flew here...," he slurred, laughing hysterically for no reason.
"You are incorrigible." She glared daggers at him even though he was too drunk to notice anything. It would be so easy to just strangle him but she'd have to find a way to get rid of his body and he was a big man. Pushing him into the shower, she turned the taps on and smirked when the ice-cold water jolted him awake.
"What did you do that for?" he demanded, goose pimples developed on his skin. "Do you have any idea how cold it is?"
"How did you get here?" she questioned pointedly. "You drove here, didn't you?"
"I took a cab."
"Liar," she spat, "I saw your car parked downstairs! What were you trying to do? Get yourself killed? Or would you prefer to have your licence revoked?"
"No one saw me!"
She pointed the showerhead at him and sprayed him with the cold water again, punishing him. "I could kill you now, no one would be around to witness it but that doesn't mean I'll do it!"
"Stop it!" he yelped, blocking the flow of water with his hands. "I'm sorry!"
"No, you're not! You're just saying it!" she shot back angrily, "You're never sorry! What if you hit someone? What if you got into an accident? Have you thought about that?" she asked without giving him a chance to answer. "You really think there aren't any consequences, huh? If you keep this up, I swear everything you've worked for will be down the drain in no time! Can't you be just a little responsible?"
…...
Derek stepped out of the bathroom in some dry clothes that didn't quite fit him into the living room where Emily was. It didn't take much for him to tell who got on her nerves again.
"Where did you get these clothes?" he asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Boyfriend? I didn't know you had one."
"I don't," she replied plainly. "I don't even have to wash my hair sometimes, thanks to you. They're my dad's..."
"Oh..." he supplied lamely. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But you gotta understand, sometimes things happen when you hang out with your buddies."
"Things always happen with you. Why can't you act like an adult? Even my nephew knows it's dangerous to drink and drive. Someone could get hurt!"
He sighed, "Why are you making it such a big deal? No one got hurt this time..."
"Should I only be worried after you officially hurt someone and get taken to court?" Letting out a frustrated cry, she asked, "Where are your keys? I'm confiscating your car."
"What?"
"Give them to me."
"No!"
Emily pulled his collar and stared him down. "You either give it to me or I'll send your car to meet its maker soon that it was meant to," she threatened. "Give it."
"How am I supposed to get around town without a car?"
"I don't care - you can take a bus, hire a chauffeur or run if you want to," she told him, "Either way, it's none of my business. And no, I will not be your chauffeur - I do enough for you already."
Derek pouted for several long moments but couldn't resist asking, "I didn't know you have a nephew."
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," she replied plainly. She sighed and turned to look at him tiredly. "I'm going back to bed. You can crash here if you want."
"Here? On the couch?" he asked incredulously, "What about your bed? I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us... I promise to be a good boy," he said, smiling charmingly.
However, Emily was immune to his charms. "Take it or leave it. If you come into my room, I'll make sure your mom loses a son but gains another daughter."
....
"You're in trouble again," Emily said, sounding defeated and tired as he entered the office. She rubbed her hands over her face as he looked through the magazines and papers she had set out before him. "When are you going to learn?"
"Learn what?" Derek asked incredulously, tossing the magazine on the table. "I was just hanging out with some friends. I wasn't robbing a bank..."
She clenched her fists in anger, doing her best to not throw whatever was within her reach. "Your book launch is in two days!" she cried. "You were seen leaving the club with one girl on each arm. And did you notice that they were dressed like whores!"
"Are you jealous?" he asked cheekily with a wink.
"No!" She let out a frustrated wail and slapped his hand away from hers. "I'm mad and worried! Did you hear me? Your book launch is in two days - this is going to affect that! Why aren't you even a little bit worried about your future?" She quickly continued after a moment.
"I just saved your reputation after your speeding scandal then you go right ahead and do this! Can you just not get in trouble? Just for once - I'm begging you..."
"Relax, Princess," he shrugged nonchalantly, "It'll pass. I'll just say that I was hanging out with my friends..."
"Maybe you should think about those friends of yours who are always getting you in trouble," she said. "Did you think that they might be setting you up? Because it seems like every time you hang out with them, the paparazzi know it..."
He shook his head, defending his friends. "No way. They wouldn't do that. They're my friends...what are they going to get out of that?"
"Are you for real or are you just blind?" she asked, looking at him incredulously. "Don't you know that they could earn a fortune selling information like this one? They're putting you in a bad light!"
"Can we just deal with this now?" he asked, his index finger tapping on the stack of magazines.
"Oh, now you're acting responsibly?" she challenged.
"Just fix it. I promise I'll be a good boy and stay away from all the bad company, okay?"
"You don't mean it..."
"You'll still have to fix it..." he shrugged cockily.
"I hate you."
…...
"Here we go..." Emily muttered under her breath as the much dreaded interview part of the entire press conference began. She looked over at the dark man sitting at the table and said a silent prayer as the reporters began firing questions at him.
"You were seen leaving the club several nights ago with a girl on each arm and there were a lot of rumours that suggest that you've been 'playing the field' - so to speak. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Her head snapped up and looked for owner of the voice who asked that question. She knew it was inevitably but she couldn't help but wonder why people were so obsessed with the lives of celebrities. It wasn't as if the celebrities were any more special than mere mortals like themselves, they were just more popular.
"Like you said, those were only rumours," Derek replied confidently, his smile oozing with his signature charm. "I was at the club with my friends. The two ladies," he continued, stressing the word, "Are also my friends. I've known them for a while now and we're close friends so I don't see why everyone is so upset by those pictures. To me, they were just showing a group of friends hanging out."
Not surprising, the throes of reporters were not satisfied by his answer - as politically correct as it might be - and began digging deeper into his alleged rumours. He smiled confidently, his answers were perfect and he was simply oozing with charm - Derek Morgan was on top of his game.
But every silver lining had its dark cloud...
"Can you explain the speeding ticket you were served weeks ago?"
Derek raised his brows for a second, silently cursing him for digging up old news before he worked up his best smile again. "I won't go looking for excuses, I was caught speeding and it was a mistake. It was wrong of me to speed, even if I was only trying to get to somewhere quickly," he said sincerely and Emily almost believed him that he meant what he said. "I was lucky that no one got hurt. I promise there won't be a next time."
"Where were you trying to get to?" the reporter with slivers of silver in his hair pressed.
"Home."
"Why were you trying get home quickly? Don't you live alone?"
"I don't have to explain that, do I?" Derek asked; his smile became stiff. It was obvious that he was telling him to back off but he either didn't get the hint or he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted.
"I'm sure all your fans, not to mention your sponsors would want to know the reason behind you speeding. Why were you rushing home?" he asked again, challenging Derek.
The quarterback frowned, his eyes darting from that annoying reporter to Emily, but before he could stop himself, her name had slipped out from his lips. "Emily?" All the reporters seemed to have sat up a little straighter and paid more attention to him. "Your publicist - Emily?"
Derek knew he couldn't explain rushing back to Emily without a good reason and he definitely couldn't tell the press that he had to rush back to her because he was in trouble again. He knew she'd skin him alive if that piece of news she tried so hard to keep it away from the press was out in the open again.
"Yes - Emily," he said as Emily frowned, wondering what he had up his sleeves this time. "Emily, my girlfriend, was at my place that night. I told her to stay over because she wasn't feeling well - she had a fever."
The brunette's jaws dropped as she stared at the NFL star. Derek had surprised her many times but she was definitely not expecting that. For several moments, she couldn't hear all the commotion; she could only hear herself breathing harder as he approached her. Before she knew what was going on, he had his arm around her, her feet moving on their own as he took her to the centre of the stage.
"She looks shocked," one of the reporters pointed out.
He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. "We weren't planning on letting anyone know about us yet. We liked the idea of having a relationship without being scrutinised so we kept it a secret. Apparently, I had no choice but to tell everyone today..." he shrugged, glaring at that experienced reporter for a second.
"How serious is your relationship?"
"We're in a serious relationship," Derek said the first thing that came to his head. "We're planning on moving in together."
"What?" she breathed - confusion and horror written all over her face. Before Emily had time to react, she was being dragged back to the SUV by her so-called boyfriend, the security forming a protective circle around them against the swarm of reporters fighting to get a photo of the new couple.
....
A throw pillow came flying through the air and hit the dark man right in his face. It obviously did no damage to him at all, however he was surprised at how good her aim was. After the stunt he just pulled off at the press conference, he knew he was going to be in trouble but nothing a little Derek Morgan magic wouldn't help.
"Are you listening to me?" she yelled, throwing another cushion at him. "What did you think you were doing? No, wait - were you even thinking?"
"Come on, Princess - it's not like it's a big deal..."
"Not a big deal?" Emily looked at him incredulously, clenching her fists in anger and her face a shade off burgundy. "Not a big deal? Are you fucking kidding me, Derek James Morgan? You told the whole of America that we're dating! It's as good as me telling everyone, 'Hey! Look at me! I'm sleeping with my client!' Now people will think that I probably slept with you to get the job! Do you have any idea how that will look on my portfolio?"
"Don't be such a drama queen," he said with a roll of his eyes but quickly and gently added, "It's not that bad..." after seeing the look on her face. He swore that if looks could kill, he'd have died a thousand times over on the way back to his apartment. "I'm sure America will shift their attention to something else real soon - like when another Disney kid star gets into drugs, or when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie adopt another kid. Before you know it, no one will even remember what I said today," he said convincingly. For a second, Emily almost believed him.
"Oh really?" she spat. "What about the part where you stupidly go, 'We're moving in together'? How are you supposed to explain the part where I refuse to move in with a moron like you?" Before he could answer, she tossed another pillow at him, smacking it right in his face. "I'm setting up another press conference and you're going to clear the air. You're going to tell everyone that we're not dating - much less moving in together."
"Can't do it, baby..." He shrugged, "I'd look like a fool and a liar. The sponsors don't like that."
"And what about me? You think my company likes hearing that I'm sleeping with my client?" She paced the length of his living room, her body shaking with anger. "You are the most selfish person I've ever met, Derek Morgan. You only care about yourself. You know what? I'm done. I've had enough. I'm going to set up a press conference tomorrow and I will clear the air."
"You can't do that. It'll look bad on you too. I believe ruining your client's reputation is a big no-no in your industry."
"From now on, you won't be my client - you know why? Because I quit!" she yelled, "What your sponsors think of you won't be my business anymore! Have a nice life, jerk!"
"You can't be serious," Derek said, staring at her incredulously, "No one will hire you!"
"I don't care! I'd rather be a part-time waitress, serving food to all kinds of people at the diner than to work for a pig like you."
"You wouldn't do that. If you walk out of here and spill the beans, both our careers will be over. Do you really want that?" he asked. "You said you busted your butt to get your degree. You really want to let all that go to the drain just because of me?"
When she crossed her arms in front of her chest and stubbornly refused to look at him, he knew he hit the nail on the head. "I'm sure we can work something out without ruining both our careers."
"How? I don't want to date you, or move in with you, and obviously, you won't tell the truth," she responded bitterly.
"Pretend that we're dating," he said simply, "You'll move in with me and we can pretend we're in a serious relationship. If we work together, people will believe what I said...it's a win-win situation."
"Are you for real or are you just stupid?" She glared at him. "How is this a win-win situation? I'm the publicist who is sleeping with her client! And not to mention that half the girls in the city have visited your bedroom! Don't you think they'll talk?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
She stuck her chin out. "Yes. Do the press conference."
"You're crazy! That will ruin the both of us." He rolled his eyes. "And I thought you were smart."
"Take that back," she demanded, grabbing him by his collar. "Take that back or I'll make sure you won't be able to enjoy your favourite hobby over for a long time..."
"Fine - I'm sorry, okay?" He put his hands up as a form of surrender. "But think about it, you've been doing a great job so far and it's not uncommon that two people who see each other every day fall in love..."
"Or one of them kills the other person," she muttered under her breath.
He ignored her earlier statement and continued, "After a while, when people get bored of us, they'll find something new to gossip about. As for those girls, they were so wasted they couldn't even remember their name, much less who they were with. I really think we could make this work," he said, looking at her confidently.
"I hate you."
"Love you too, baby," he smirked before her handbag collided with his head.
....
Images of Derek and Emily at the press conference earlier flashed across the TV screen.
"I'm sorry ladies, but it seems like the most eligible bachelor has been snapped up a long time ago," the redheaded news anchor said with a smile. "Lucky her," she added teasingly before the commercial came into picture.
The brunette on the other side of the screen shook her head in disbelief as she watched the news about the famed quarterback. "No..." she breathed, tears pooling in her eyes, "No. It can't be... Derek is mine!" she cried, tossing the remote at the many magazines cut-out and pictures of him.
The press had to have made another mistake, they had made so many over the years with the different celebrities but this time it was different, Derek admitted it himself. "Why?" she murmured, staring lovingly at the handsome quarterback's photo, "Why would you want her? You love me..."
Then it hit her like a freight train - he was seduced, he would never truly love Emily because he loved her. And Tamara Barnes will be damned if she were to take it lying down. She was not going to let a woman like that steal her man from her.
She had to do something about it.
…...
"Not like that!" Emily Prentiss huffed in annoyance. "I told you, they have to be in alphabetical order!" She dropped the books in her hands and pushed Derek aside to rearrange the books he had already placed on the bookshelves.
"They don't have to be in alphabetical order, you just think they do," he argued. "You have a problem."
"Do it right or don't do it at all!"
"You were the one who told me to help..." Derek reminded airily, "Women can be so fickle."
"Shut up and work," she ordered, slapping the back of his head. "You were one who got me into this mess. I had to give up my apartment and the deposit thanks to you."
"You're so violent."
"You can still tell the truth and back out..."
"Not happening, sweetness. Why would I want to do? You know that this is a one room apartment, right?" he winked. She was about to retort when the doorbell rang. "Pizza's here," he grinned again, tugging her hand and dragged her to the couch before getting the door.
…...
They had spent the entire day packing, moving, unpacking and arranging. With Emily's idiosyncrasy, she had insisted that everything was put in exactly the way she wanted or they'd have to re-arrange everything all over again.
By the time they were done, Derek was ready to just drop dead - something Emily would have liked very much. He raised his eyebrows when he came out of the shower to see the brunette in an oversized sweatshirt, reading a book. "Are you a robot?" he asked, shaking his head. "How can you still read after all that? I'm about to die..." he complained. "And shouldn't you be wearing something a little nicer to be? Maybe a lacy nightgown?" he teased.
"You can wear that if you want to. I'm not wearing it - at least not for you," she said, not looking up from her book. She eventually looked at him when she felt the bed dipped. "What are you doing?"
"Sleeping," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You're doing that on the floor, Derek," she said in a matter-of-factly tone. "I'm not sharing a bed with you."
"And if I don't?" he challenged.
"I'll tell the twenty paparazzi living outside your building the truth."
He let out a little laugh and smirked, "You won't do that, baby - you already moved in with me. What would your boss and everyone else say if you told them it was a lie and you were part of it?" he asked smugly.
She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape and then glared at him. "You're evil," she breathed.
"I prefer the term 'evil genius'," he said smugly and leaned in close to Emily, "How about a little good night kiss?"
"Sure," she smiled sweetly - maybe a little too sweetly for Derek's liking - resting her hands on either side of his shoulders and leaned in so close, he could feel her breath on his lips. She was so close... But before he realised what was going on, he landed on the hardwood floors with a thud and a shocked look on his face.
"What was that for?"
"Go to hell," she said, tossing his pillow at him.
....
Slivers of the morning sun filtered into the otherwise dark bedroom through the curtains. The figure hidden under the soft navy sheets shifted, rolling over and reaching for her, only to find that she wasn't there. Derek wasn't surprised; Emily was an early riser and sleeping in, even on a Sunday morning, just didn't work for her. She was probably already on the treadmill or even going at the punching bag, pretending she was throwing punches at him.
His eyes slowly fluttered open and almost immediately shut them when he noticed that the numbers on the clock told him it was way too early to up, especially on a lazy Sunday. With a lazy smile, he snuggled deeper into the sheets, trying to go back to sleep and maybe wake up an hour or two later. A relaxed Sunday brunch by the Chicago River with Emily would be a nice way to start the day. A deep sigh and a sleepy grin, he slowly drifted back into his dreamland but his eyes flew open almost immediately when he heard an ear-splitting scream from the other side of the door.
He bolted out of the room and the first thing he notice was the dark red liquid on the floor. "What happened?" he asked worriedly, his sleepy mind still struggling to make sense of it all. "Did you hurt yourself? Is that blood?"
The startled brunette uncharacteristically launched herself into his arms, her body shaking intently. "What happened, Emily?" he asked again, quietly this time as he tried to calm her nerves. She didn't say a word and they remained in the same position for several long moments. When she finally regained her composure, she moved away from him, mumbling something he couldn't quite hear and bit her lip, but still she hadn't told him what went wrong. "Damn it Emily! What happened?" he asked exasperatedly. "What the hell is that?" He frowned, cautiously approaching that large black gift box lying on the floor.
"Don't!"
"Oh my God..." he breathed. A disfigured doll was covered in some sort of dark red liquid that he assumed was blood. The poor doll's long dark hair was chopped off in anger, her clothes torn and it was simply horrible. "Who sent you this?"
She shook her head, "I don't know. But I know that is what will happen to me if I don't leave you..." she said, a hint of anger and fear in her voice.
…...
After the police officers left and the blood had been cleaned up, Derek found Emily sitting in the corner of the living room by the window, hugging her legs. He moved to sit across her, studying her carefully as she continued to look out the window.
"This is all your fault, you know," she whispered eventually, an uncharacteristic hint of a fear creeping into her voice.
"I didn't know this would happen," he said. "I never expected that anything like that would happen. I never meant for you to get hurt."
She sighed, "Word is going to get out, you know? You can't keep something like this under wraps."
"Don't worry about that," he said, "That doesn't matter now."
"I can't," she said, finally looking at him. "Thinking about work helps me not think of that doll. Every time I close my eyes, I see that thing broken and covered in blood. I need to do something to take my mind off that."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
Then she looked away again. Derek knew she probably wouldn't be okay with what he was about to do, but at that moment, he couldn't care less. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping both his arms snugly around her.
"What are you doing?"
He rested his head on top of hers and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get away. "Just stay here, okay? I won't bite," he said. "I started this mess, I'll end it. I won't let you get hurt because of me," he promised.
"I don't need you to protect me," she said stubbornly. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She continued struggling for several moments but finally gave up and relaxed in his arms when she realised that he was only going to hold her tighter the more she struggled.
"Don't be so headstrong," he chided.
"Don't tell me what to do or what not to do." Derek didn't need to look at her to know that she was glaring at him.
"I'm your boss, it's my job to tell you what to do," he replied plainly. "Set up a press conference. We can't around and do nothing. I won't stand for this."
"What are you going to say?"
"You'll know when it happens, Princess."
Authors: inward_audacity
Beta: floatingamoebafloatingamoeba
Category: Romance/Humor
Rating: FRM
Warning: Sex, Language
Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Summary: They are as different as fire and ice yet they are attracted to each other like moths to a flame.
Authors' Note: AU. Written for cm_bigbang. Beautiful art done by the amazing krimskii can be found here. Go check it out now!
Emily Prentiss angrily tossed an assortment of newspapers and magazines on the ornate coffee table. "What's the meaning of this?" she glared at the man sitting opposite her. "Look at this! You're all over the news again. And not in a good way!"
"Relax, Emily..." Derek said lazily, "We can just ignore it and it'll be over before you know."
"God, Derek, grow up!" she chided, "This is ruining your reputation! Do you think your sponsors like seeing stuff like this all over the place? 'Derek Morgan - the new star of NFL is caught speeding again,'" she read aloud, glaring at him. "Again!"
"You were the one who said and I quote, 'Get your ass here as fast as you can.'I did exactly what you wanted," he argued.
"I never asked you to go a hundred miles per hour on the highway!" she said incredulously. "Just because you have a new Ferrari doesn't mean it gives you the green light to speed! You're a quarterback, not a professional racing driver!""
"You're my publicist. Do some damage control, and then I can move on," he said distractedly, his fingers moving quickly on the game controller.
"I always do damage control," she spat, "When will you do less damage so I can breathe a little easier?"
"You'd be out of job if I didn't cause problems for you to solve," he responded confidently, "You should thank me, Princess." She pulled the plug of his game console out of the socket and glared at him. "Hey! What did you do that for? I was about beat my high score!"
"Go to hell," she muttered darkly.
…...
Derek causally jogged into the field where a group of young boys waited eagerly to be coached by one of the hottest stars in the NFL. "Hi Derek!" they chorused, smiling excitedly.
"Hello boys," he smiled back, "Should we get started?"
"Yes!"
"Alright, warm ups first," he said seriously.
It was hard for Emily to want to hate him when she watched him interact with little children with so much enthusiasm and for a second, she almost believed that he cared about them although she knew Derek Morgan cared about no one but himself. As the boys dispersed to do their warm up routine, Emily pulled him aside and stared at him. "What?" he asked, a little annoyed. "I got here on time!"
"Did you speed?" she asked pointedly.
"No..." She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down until he broke. "Fine, I sped but only once!" he argued. "I made sure that there wasn't anyone around!"
"Should I stab you now since there's no one around and I'll only do it once..."
"It doesn't even make sense!"
"You don't make sense!" she retorted.
"You are too uptight," he remarked. "Relax. I'm Derek Morgan - what could happen?"
"Stabbed to death by your publicist should on the top of that list," she muttered under her breath.
"Okay, stabby," he said as he rolled his eyes, "I'll remember to keep knives and forks away from you."
Emily took a deep breath, calming herself down and brushed her away from her face. "You'd better do a good job today and make sure all the kids love you," she ordered, "Reporters are here and this will be a good chance for you to make up for the speeding ticket you got."
"You make it sound like it's rocket science," he grinned smugly, "Everyone loves me."
"Just do a good job or I swear, I'll kick your ass," she threatened.
"You said a bad word," a small voice said. She mentally cursed herself for not noticing the little boy standing near them. "Mommy says you can't say bad words...you're always 'posed to be nice."
"Yeah, Emily," the star quarterback smirked, "It's not nice to say bad words," which earned him a glare from her.
"You should 'pologise to Derek," the little boy said, looking up at her with his big blue eyes. She looked from the innocent little boy to the man who still acted like a boy and sighed. Glaring at Derek again when he mouth, "I'm waiting," to her.
"I'm sorry, Derek," she finally said it through gritted teeth.
"I forgive you, Emily," he winked and then looked at the little boy, "Henry, why don't you go join other boys. We're about to start."
"'Kay!" He grinned toothily and ran towards his friends.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Hard not to..."
"I can still stab you with my fountain pen and I will enjoy it, you know?"
"I'm so scared. Be nice, Emily," he smirked, patting her back before he ran out to his little fans, leaving her fuming mad in the shade.
....
Emily woke up to the sound of insistent knocking on her door and groaned, rolling over to see a bright red 2:11AM flashing across her alarm clock. Whoever or whatever it was, would have to wait until morning because she was not about to get out of her warm bed for anything short of a nuclear bomb.
That was the plan until she heard the person knocking on the door, calling out to her. "Emily Prentiss! Open the door before I break it down!"
That had Emily sitting upright and jumping out of bed in barely two seconds. She couldn't fathom why that infuriating Derek Morgan would be pounding at her door in the middle of the night. Flinging the door open, she swore it took all her self-discipline to not slam the door in his face although she wouldn't really have the chance to do that since he flung himself against her the instant the door opened.
"You're drunk," she muttered as the odour of the alcohol lingering on his body overwhelmed her nose. "How did you get here? Did you drive here?" she asked, a little louder than she had intended when he didn't reply.
"I flew here...," he slurred, laughing hysterically for no reason.
"You are incorrigible." She glared daggers at him even though he was too drunk to notice anything. It would be so easy to just strangle him but she'd have to find a way to get rid of his body and he was a big man. Pushing him into the shower, she turned the taps on and smirked when the ice-cold water jolted him awake.
"What did you do that for?" he demanded, goose pimples developed on his skin. "Do you have any idea how cold it is?"
"How did you get here?" she questioned pointedly. "You drove here, didn't you?"
"I took a cab."
"Liar," she spat, "I saw your car parked downstairs! What were you trying to do? Get yourself killed? Or would you prefer to have your licence revoked?"
"No one saw me!"
She pointed the showerhead at him and sprayed him with the cold water again, punishing him. "I could kill you now, no one would be around to witness it but that doesn't mean I'll do it!"
"Stop it!" he yelped, blocking the flow of water with his hands. "I'm sorry!"
"No, you're not! You're just saying it!" she shot back angrily, "You're never sorry! What if you hit someone? What if you got into an accident? Have you thought about that?" she asked without giving him a chance to answer. "You really think there aren't any consequences, huh? If you keep this up, I swear everything you've worked for will be down the drain in no time! Can't you be just a little responsible?"
…...
Derek stepped out of the bathroom in some dry clothes that didn't quite fit him into the living room where Emily was. It didn't take much for him to tell who got on her nerves again.
"Where did you get these clothes?" he asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Boyfriend? I didn't know you had one."
"I don't," she replied plainly. "I don't even have to wash my hair sometimes, thanks to you. They're my dad's..."
"Oh..." he supplied lamely. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But you gotta understand, sometimes things happen when you hang out with your buddies."
"Things always happen with you. Why can't you act like an adult? Even my nephew knows it's dangerous to drink and drive. Someone could get hurt!"
He sighed, "Why are you making it such a big deal? No one got hurt this time..."
"Should I only be worried after you officially hurt someone and get taken to court?" Letting out a frustrated cry, she asked, "Where are your keys? I'm confiscating your car."
"What?"
"Give them to me."
"No!"
Emily pulled his collar and stared him down. "You either give it to me or I'll send your car to meet its maker soon that it was meant to," she threatened. "Give it."
"How am I supposed to get around town without a car?"
"I don't care - you can take a bus, hire a chauffeur or run if you want to," she told him, "Either way, it's none of my business. And no, I will not be your chauffeur - I do enough for you already."
Derek pouted for several long moments but couldn't resist asking, "I didn't know you have a nephew."
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," she replied plainly. She sighed and turned to look at him tiredly. "I'm going back to bed. You can crash here if you want."
"Here? On the couch?" he asked incredulously, "What about your bed? I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us... I promise to be a good boy," he said, smiling charmingly.
However, Emily was immune to his charms. "Take it or leave it. If you come into my room, I'll make sure your mom loses a son but gains another daughter."
....
"You're in trouble again," Emily said, sounding defeated and tired as he entered the office. She rubbed her hands over her face as he looked through the magazines and papers she had set out before him. "When are you going to learn?"
"Learn what?" Derek asked incredulously, tossing the magazine on the table. "I was just hanging out with some friends. I wasn't robbing a bank..."
She clenched her fists in anger, doing her best to not throw whatever was within her reach. "Your book launch is in two days!" she cried. "You were seen leaving the club with one girl on each arm. And did you notice that they were dressed like whores!"
"Are you jealous?" he asked cheekily with a wink.
"No!" She let out a frustrated wail and slapped his hand away from hers. "I'm mad and worried! Did you hear me? Your book launch is in two days - this is going to affect that! Why aren't you even a little bit worried about your future?" She quickly continued after a moment.
"I just saved your reputation after your speeding scandal then you go right ahead and do this! Can you just not get in trouble? Just for once - I'm begging you..."
"Relax, Princess," he shrugged nonchalantly, "It'll pass. I'll just say that I was hanging out with my friends..."
"Maybe you should think about those friends of yours who are always getting you in trouble," she said. "Did you think that they might be setting you up? Because it seems like every time you hang out with them, the paparazzi know it..."
He shook his head, defending his friends. "No way. They wouldn't do that. They're my friends...what are they going to get out of that?"
"Are you for real or are you just blind?" she asked, looking at him incredulously. "Don't you know that they could earn a fortune selling information like this one? They're putting you in a bad light!"
"Can we just deal with this now?" he asked, his index finger tapping on the stack of magazines.
"Oh, now you're acting responsibly?" she challenged.
"Just fix it. I promise I'll be a good boy and stay away from all the bad company, okay?"
"You don't mean it..."
"You'll still have to fix it..." he shrugged cockily.
"I hate you."
…...
"Here we go..." Emily muttered under her breath as the much dreaded interview part of the entire press conference began. She looked over at the dark man sitting at the table and said a silent prayer as the reporters began firing questions at him.
"You were seen leaving the club several nights ago with a girl on each arm and there were a lot of rumours that suggest that you've been 'playing the field' - so to speak. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Her head snapped up and looked for owner of the voice who asked that question. She knew it was inevitably but she couldn't help but wonder why people were so obsessed with the lives of celebrities. It wasn't as if the celebrities were any more special than mere mortals like themselves, they were just more popular.
"Like you said, those were only rumours," Derek replied confidently, his smile oozing with his signature charm. "I was at the club with my friends. The two ladies," he continued, stressing the word, "Are also my friends. I've known them for a while now and we're close friends so I don't see why everyone is so upset by those pictures. To me, they were just showing a group of friends hanging out."
Not surprising, the throes of reporters were not satisfied by his answer - as politically correct as it might be - and began digging deeper into his alleged rumours. He smiled confidently, his answers were perfect and he was simply oozing with charm - Derek Morgan was on top of his game.
But every silver lining had its dark cloud...
"Can you explain the speeding ticket you were served weeks ago?"
Derek raised his brows for a second, silently cursing him for digging up old news before he worked up his best smile again. "I won't go looking for excuses, I was caught speeding and it was a mistake. It was wrong of me to speed, even if I was only trying to get to somewhere quickly," he said sincerely and Emily almost believed him that he meant what he said. "I was lucky that no one got hurt. I promise there won't be a next time."
"Where were you trying to get to?" the reporter with slivers of silver in his hair pressed.
"Home."
"Why were you trying get home quickly? Don't you live alone?"
"I don't have to explain that, do I?" Derek asked; his smile became stiff. It was obvious that he was telling him to back off but he either didn't get the hint or he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted.
"I'm sure all your fans, not to mention your sponsors would want to know the reason behind you speeding. Why were you rushing home?" he asked again, challenging Derek.
The quarterback frowned, his eyes darting from that annoying reporter to Emily, but before he could stop himself, her name had slipped out from his lips. "Emily?" All the reporters seemed to have sat up a little straighter and paid more attention to him. "Your publicist - Emily?"
Derek knew he couldn't explain rushing back to Emily without a good reason and he definitely couldn't tell the press that he had to rush back to her because he was in trouble again. He knew she'd skin him alive if that piece of news she tried so hard to keep it away from the press was out in the open again.
"Yes - Emily," he said as Emily frowned, wondering what he had up his sleeves this time. "Emily, my girlfriend, was at my place that night. I told her to stay over because she wasn't feeling well - she had a fever."
The brunette's jaws dropped as she stared at the NFL star. Derek had surprised her many times but she was definitely not expecting that. For several moments, she couldn't hear all the commotion; she could only hear herself breathing harder as he approached her. Before she knew what was going on, he had his arm around her, her feet moving on their own as he took her to the centre of the stage.
"She looks shocked," one of the reporters pointed out.
He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. "We weren't planning on letting anyone know about us yet. We liked the idea of having a relationship without being scrutinised so we kept it a secret. Apparently, I had no choice but to tell everyone today..." he shrugged, glaring at that experienced reporter for a second.
"How serious is your relationship?"
"We're in a serious relationship," Derek said the first thing that came to his head. "We're planning on moving in together."
"What?" she breathed - confusion and horror written all over her face. Before Emily had time to react, she was being dragged back to the SUV by her so-called boyfriend, the security forming a protective circle around them against the swarm of reporters fighting to get a photo of the new couple.
....
A throw pillow came flying through the air and hit the dark man right in his face. It obviously did no damage to him at all, however he was surprised at how good her aim was. After the stunt he just pulled off at the press conference, he knew he was going to be in trouble but nothing a little Derek Morgan magic wouldn't help.
"Are you listening to me?" she yelled, throwing another cushion at him. "What did you think you were doing? No, wait - were you even thinking?"
"Come on, Princess - it's not like it's a big deal..."
"Not a big deal?" Emily looked at him incredulously, clenching her fists in anger and her face a shade off burgundy. "Not a big deal? Are you fucking kidding me, Derek James Morgan? You told the whole of America that we're dating! It's as good as me telling everyone, 'Hey! Look at me! I'm sleeping with my client!' Now people will think that I probably slept with you to get the job! Do you have any idea how that will look on my portfolio?"
"Don't be such a drama queen," he said with a roll of his eyes but quickly and gently added, "It's not that bad..." after seeing the look on her face. He swore that if looks could kill, he'd have died a thousand times over on the way back to his apartment. "I'm sure America will shift their attention to something else real soon - like when another Disney kid star gets into drugs, or when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie adopt another kid. Before you know it, no one will even remember what I said today," he said convincingly. For a second, Emily almost believed him.
"Oh really?" she spat. "What about the part where you stupidly go, 'We're moving in together'? How are you supposed to explain the part where I refuse to move in with a moron like you?" Before he could answer, she tossed another pillow at him, smacking it right in his face. "I'm setting up another press conference and you're going to clear the air. You're going to tell everyone that we're not dating - much less moving in together."
"Can't do it, baby..." He shrugged, "I'd look like a fool and a liar. The sponsors don't like that."
"And what about me? You think my company likes hearing that I'm sleeping with my client?" She paced the length of his living room, her body shaking with anger. "You are the most selfish person I've ever met, Derek Morgan. You only care about yourself. You know what? I'm done. I've had enough. I'm going to set up a press conference tomorrow and I will clear the air."
"You can't do that. It'll look bad on you too. I believe ruining your client's reputation is a big no-no in your industry."
"From now on, you won't be my client - you know why? Because I quit!" she yelled, "What your sponsors think of you won't be my business anymore! Have a nice life, jerk!"
"You can't be serious," Derek said, staring at her incredulously, "No one will hire you!"
"I don't care! I'd rather be a part-time waitress, serving food to all kinds of people at the diner than to work for a pig like you."
"You wouldn't do that. If you walk out of here and spill the beans, both our careers will be over. Do you really want that?" he asked. "You said you busted your butt to get your degree. You really want to let all that go to the drain just because of me?"
When she crossed her arms in front of her chest and stubbornly refused to look at him, he knew he hit the nail on the head. "I'm sure we can work something out without ruining both our careers."
"How? I don't want to date you, or move in with you, and obviously, you won't tell the truth," she responded bitterly.
"Pretend that we're dating," he said simply, "You'll move in with me and we can pretend we're in a serious relationship. If we work together, people will believe what I said...it's a win-win situation."
"Are you for real or are you just stupid?" She glared at him. "How is this a win-win situation? I'm the publicist who is sleeping with her client! And not to mention that half the girls in the city have visited your bedroom! Don't you think they'll talk?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
She stuck her chin out. "Yes. Do the press conference."
"You're crazy! That will ruin the both of us." He rolled his eyes. "And I thought you were smart."
"Take that back," she demanded, grabbing him by his collar. "Take that back or I'll make sure you won't be able to enjoy your favourite hobby over for a long time..."
"Fine - I'm sorry, okay?" He put his hands up as a form of surrender. "But think about it, you've been doing a great job so far and it's not uncommon that two people who see each other every day fall in love..."
"Or one of them kills the other person," she muttered under her breath.
He ignored her earlier statement and continued, "After a while, when people get bored of us, they'll find something new to gossip about. As for those girls, they were so wasted they couldn't even remember their name, much less who they were with. I really think we could make this work," he said, looking at her confidently.
"I hate you."
"Love you too, baby," he smirked before her handbag collided with his head.
....
Images of Derek and Emily at the press conference earlier flashed across the TV screen.
"I'm sorry ladies, but it seems like the most eligible bachelor has been snapped up a long time ago," the redheaded news anchor said with a smile. "Lucky her," she added teasingly before the commercial came into picture.
The brunette on the other side of the screen shook her head in disbelief as she watched the news about the famed quarterback. "No..." she breathed, tears pooling in her eyes, "No. It can't be... Derek is mine!" she cried, tossing the remote at the many magazines cut-out and pictures of him.
The press had to have made another mistake, they had made so many over the years with the different celebrities but this time it was different, Derek admitted it himself. "Why?" she murmured, staring lovingly at the handsome quarterback's photo, "Why would you want her? You love me..."
Then it hit her like a freight train - he was seduced, he would never truly love Emily because he loved her. And Tamara Barnes will be damned if she were to take it lying down. She was not going to let a woman like that steal her man from her.
She had to do something about it.
…...
"Not like that!" Emily Prentiss huffed in annoyance. "I told you, they have to be in alphabetical order!" She dropped the books in her hands and pushed Derek aside to rearrange the books he had already placed on the bookshelves.
"They don't have to be in alphabetical order, you just think they do," he argued. "You have a problem."
"Do it right or don't do it at all!"
"You were the one who told me to help..." Derek reminded airily, "Women can be so fickle."
"Shut up and work," she ordered, slapping the back of his head. "You were one who got me into this mess. I had to give up my apartment and the deposit thanks to you."
"You're so violent."
"You can still tell the truth and back out..."
"Not happening, sweetness. Why would I want to do? You know that this is a one room apartment, right?" he winked. She was about to retort when the doorbell rang. "Pizza's here," he grinned again, tugging her hand and dragged her to the couch before getting the door.
…...
They had spent the entire day packing, moving, unpacking and arranging. With Emily's idiosyncrasy, she had insisted that everything was put in exactly the way she wanted or they'd have to re-arrange everything all over again.
By the time they were done, Derek was ready to just drop dead - something Emily would have liked very much. He raised his eyebrows when he came out of the shower to see the brunette in an oversized sweatshirt, reading a book. "Are you a robot?" he asked, shaking his head. "How can you still read after all that? I'm about to die..." he complained. "And shouldn't you be wearing something a little nicer to be? Maybe a lacy nightgown?" he teased.
"You can wear that if you want to. I'm not wearing it - at least not for you," she said, not looking up from her book. She eventually looked at him when she felt the bed dipped. "What are you doing?"
"Sleeping," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You're doing that on the floor, Derek," she said in a matter-of-factly tone. "I'm not sharing a bed with you."
"And if I don't?" he challenged.
"I'll tell the twenty paparazzi living outside your building the truth."
He let out a little laugh and smirked, "You won't do that, baby - you already moved in with me. What would your boss and everyone else say if you told them it was a lie and you were part of it?" he asked smugly.
She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape and then glared at him. "You're evil," she breathed.
"I prefer the term 'evil genius'," he said smugly and leaned in close to Emily, "How about a little good night kiss?"
"Sure," she smiled sweetly - maybe a little too sweetly for Derek's liking - resting her hands on either side of his shoulders and leaned in so close, he could feel her breath on his lips. She was so close... But before he realised what was going on, he landed on the hardwood floors with a thud and a shocked look on his face.
"What was that for?"
"Go to hell," she said, tossing his pillow at him.
....
Slivers of the morning sun filtered into the otherwise dark bedroom through the curtains. The figure hidden under the soft navy sheets shifted, rolling over and reaching for her, only to find that she wasn't there. Derek wasn't surprised; Emily was an early riser and sleeping in, even on a Sunday morning, just didn't work for her. She was probably already on the treadmill or even going at the punching bag, pretending she was throwing punches at him.
His eyes slowly fluttered open and almost immediately shut them when he noticed that the numbers on the clock told him it was way too early to up, especially on a lazy Sunday. With a lazy smile, he snuggled deeper into the sheets, trying to go back to sleep and maybe wake up an hour or two later. A relaxed Sunday brunch by the Chicago River with Emily would be a nice way to start the day. A deep sigh and a sleepy grin, he slowly drifted back into his dreamland but his eyes flew open almost immediately when he heard an ear-splitting scream from the other side of the door.
He bolted out of the room and the first thing he notice was the dark red liquid on the floor. "What happened?" he asked worriedly, his sleepy mind still struggling to make sense of it all. "Did you hurt yourself? Is that blood?"
The startled brunette uncharacteristically launched herself into his arms, her body shaking intently. "What happened, Emily?" he asked again, quietly this time as he tried to calm her nerves. She didn't say a word and they remained in the same position for several long moments. When she finally regained her composure, she moved away from him, mumbling something he couldn't quite hear and bit her lip, but still she hadn't told him what went wrong. "Damn it Emily! What happened?" he asked exasperatedly. "What the hell is that?" He frowned, cautiously approaching that large black gift box lying on the floor.
"Don't!"
"Oh my God..." he breathed. A disfigured doll was covered in some sort of dark red liquid that he assumed was blood. The poor doll's long dark hair was chopped off in anger, her clothes torn and it was simply horrible. "Who sent you this?"
She shook her head, "I don't know. But I know that is what will happen to me if I don't leave you..." she said, a hint of anger and fear in her voice.
…...
After the police officers left and the blood had been cleaned up, Derek found Emily sitting in the corner of the living room by the window, hugging her legs. He moved to sit across her, studying her carefully as she continued to look out the window.
"This is all your fault, you know," she whispered eventually, an uncharacteristic hint of a fear creeping into her voice.
"I didn't know this would happen," he said. "I never expected that anything like that would happen. I never meant for you to get hurt."
She sighed, "Word is going to get out, you know? You can't keep something like this under wraps."
"Don't worry about that," he said, "That doesn't matter now."
"I can't," she said, finally looking at him. "Thinking about work helps me not think of that doll. Every time I close my eyes, I see that thing broken and covered in blood. I need to do something to take my mind off that."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
Then she looked away again. Derek knew she probably wouldn't be okay with what he was about to do, but at that moment, he couldn't care less. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping both his arms snugly around her.
"What are you doing?"
He rested his head on top of hers and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get away. "Just stay here, okay? I won't bite," he said. "I started this mess, I'll end it. I won't let you get hurt because of me," he promised.
"I don't need you to protect me," she said stubbornly. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She continued struggling for several moments but finally gave up and relaxed in his arms when she realised that he was only going to hold her tighter the more she struggled.
"Don't be so headstrong," he chided.
"Don't tell me what to do or what not to do." Derek didn't need to look at her to know that she was glaring at him.
"I'm your boss, it's my job to tell you what to do," he replied plainly. "Set up a press conference. We can't around and do nothing. I won't stand for this."
"What are you going to say?"
"You'll know when it happens, Princess."