Emily and Matt were parked across from each other in a booth at Sloan's after a exceedingly long, bizarre negotiation with a very stoned young man. They were both exhausted, but way too wired to bother trying to go home and sleep. They'd ordered beers and were expecting the rest of the team to arrive any minute, and not particularly looking forward to it. It had been eight days since Matt's spontaneous disclosure of their relationship, and they'd managed to go the entire time without getting the third degree on their illicit relationship. Tonight that would come to an end, but they figured they'd have to go through this sometime. Meanwhile, Emily was still not particularly happy with him.
"Oh look, the lovebirds beat us," Frank called marching in with Duff, and a handful of HRT. Matt and Emily hung their heads, preparing for the coming onslaught. All the guys pulled up loose chairs, or stools from the bar around the booth, intent on giving the two negotiators hell.
"Are you surprised, how many speed limits did you break driving here, Matt?" Duff demanded.
"I wasn't driving, Emily was." Both macho HRT agents turned to Emily in surprise.
"What? That's the first time he let me drive his precious car, you think I'm not going to push to see what it can do?" She asked them matter-of-factly.
"Flannery actually let somebody drive his baby?" Duff laughed at Matt's protectiveness.
"Oh, he just wants her to keep letting him in her pants, right man?" Instead of responding, Matt just guzzled the beer he was handed.
"We're not doing that anymore," Emily explained dryly, picking at the label of her own bottle.
"Hey, at least you're both alive, Cheryl did threaten to kill you." Frank pointed out.
"She was tempted," Cheryl joined the conversation after entering the bar with Lia, both women sliding into the booth.
"Oh, give them a break everybody." Lia defended the miserable looking couple, she knew Cheryl already put them through the wringer. She also knew, unlike everyone else, that the duo were missing their little arrangement, at least Emily was, per their last conversation.
"Why? They know better, they brought this on themselves." Cheryl was still pissed, and not ready to grant them any sympathy.
"I think it's kind of sweet," she commented with a shrug.
"You serious with that Mathers?" Duff asked incredulously. Everybody, including Matt and Emily were giving her skeptical looks.
"Come on, think about it. They work together all day, and then like each other enough to spend the night together? Most married couples can't even pull off the night part."
"She's got a point with that," Frank laughed. Matt and Emily tried to hide in their beer bottles. "So what's your secret?"
"Oh I know that one!" Duff suddenly exclaimed, "lacy purple thongs, and sex in a storage closest is gonna keep any romance alive."
"That's right, we all finally know who the own of those panties are, very kinky Lehman." Frank wasn't about to give them any mercy tonight. Emily waved over the waitress.
"Can I get two tequilas?" It was more a plea to the waitress, who nodded and hurried off to get them.
"You order for Matt now?"
"Who says I'm sharing?" Matt's head came up from his long empty beer bottle.
"You better be." He told her. They would both need something much stronger than beer to get through this night.
"So, the storage closest, huh?" Frank asked excitedly.
"The one here was better." Matt realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he shouldn't have said them. What could have possessed him?
Emily's whipped around to stare at him in pissed disbelief, "Do you have Tourette's or something?"
He looked up at her, already looking pained.
"Because, I can't imagine another reason why you'd say that."
"Sorry," Matt told her quietly. Emily just shook her head.
"So, when did that happen? Were we here?" Matt didn't answer, so Emily turned to the group, eyes blazing.
"Since Matt's so keen on sharing, the night with the porno bimbos? When we disappeared in the back of the bar? Jealousy is a very powerful aphrodisiac, right Matt?" It was clear she was angry, and getting more worked up as she spoke.
He looked at her helplessly, what was she doing?
"Oh, and before you even ask: that hot date I had a while back, that I was so eager for, that was Matt; Cheryl, the guy whose name I couldn't remember, that was Matt. That time that neither of us answered our landlines? We were at a hotel…for the third night. Lia when you came over, and I wouldn't let you in? Matt was in my shower waiting for me, with massage oil."
"Emily, what are you doing?" Matt interrupted her.
"Sharing Matt, you like to share, remember? Hey Duff, when you found us arguing in that stairwell, we weren't actually arguing. It would be kind of hard with our tongues down each other's throats. Oh, and Frank when you called Matt for paintball about a month, ago? The screaming and moaning in the background wasn't a horror movie. It takes a very skilled man work his fingers like that, and hang up on someone at the same time with the other hand. Did I miss anything?" Emily ran out of breath by the end of her fast-paced, angry diatribe, and found several pairs of eyes staring at her.
"I think that about covers it," Cheryl told her smirking. Everyone just stared at her, too shocked to find their voices.
"Damn Lehman, you sound like wild kingdom in the bedroom." Frank finally commented, recalling the phone call she mentioned.
"Emily, we need to talk," Matt had his jaw clenched as he got up, and motioned Cheryl to let him out. Lia moved to let her out even before Emily got up.
Matt dragged her away from the booth, and whispered at her, "Have you lost it?"
"No, but I was wondering the same about you."
"It was an accident, it just came out."
"Twice?" She demanded.
"What? The first time was during a negotiation, I thought we went through this?"
"Yes, we did and I was okay with the fact that you, not only told the world we were sleeping together, but also felt the burning desire to add that we'd had sex in the office… until you did it again, not during a negotiation."
"I'm sorry, I know it was stupid, and clearly pissed you off. I wish I could take it back, but I can't. I'm sorry, okay? I'll try to clamp my mouth shut from now on." Matt was looking directly into her eyes, pleading with her.
Emily stared right back at him for a long while, "Fine. And, I'm sorry for…well, all of what I said."
Matt shrugged, "They would have asked us most of it anyway. Just one thing though?"
"Did you really need to be so explicit?" He cocked a half-smile.
She grinned, "Maybe not. You never know though, maybe I gave them so many visuals they'll never ask us about our sex lives again."
Matt laughed at her hopeful comment.
"And besides," she continued, "Lia gossips, by tomorrow afternoon every woman in the L.A. Bureau is going to know about your skillful fingers. You'll have women banging down your door for a date."
"Who says I want them?" Matt asked with a smile, surprising her.
"What man wouldn't want women falling all over him?"
"One that already knows what he wants," she didn't catch on immediately, or maybe didn't want to, so Matt amended his answer, "who he wants."
That she definitely got. "We can't do this, Matt." But god, she wanted too.
"I know. I know." He agreed, resignation weighing his voice.
Emily headed back to the table to join the group, and Matt followed close behind.
"What, no blood?" Frank asked as they sat back down.
Emily glared at him, so he threw his hands up in defeat. The group resumed their conversation, and graciously (and perhaps a little out of fright) left Matt and Emily's sex life, or current lack of one, out of the rest of the conversation. The couple's relief was evident in both their switch back to beer, and the fact that they were actually laughing with the rest of the group now.
Later in the night, they all said goodbye, heading toward cars, as none were so inebriated that they couldn't drive. Emily got to Matt's Mustang first, and held her hand out with a smile.
"What?" He teased, knowing exactly what she wanted.
"I want to drive it again."
"With all the speed limits you broke last time?"
"Oh, come on, you break all the same ones. Besides, I'll just be driving to my apartment, and then you get control of your baby back." Emily's car was back at the Bureau; she'd get it tomorrow.
"True, alright." He tossed her the keys, and she caught them easily, hopping eagerly into the car. There is no ride quite like an eight cylinder, standard trans Mustang, not to mention the car was just flat out beautiful.
Emily started the car, and switched to reverse, and eased her left foot off the clutch, while gently placing pressure on the gas. Once the car was out, she pressed the clutch again, switching to first, moving her foot to the gas, and driving the car out of the parking lot. As she picked up speed, she steadily moved up gears, keeping in third to maneuver through L.A.'s streets still busy streets.
About ten minutes into the drive, when she should have turned down 77th to go to her apartment, she kept straight, turning instead at the sign for the highway, pushing the car up the last two gears.
"Em, where are you going?" Matt wasn't really worried, but certainly concerned.
"A surprise, trust me you'll like it."
"You aren't going to tell me?"
"Can't you just lean back and enjoy the ride?"
"When you're driving my pride and joy? I don't think so. Where she goes, I know." He declared.
"Your car is a she?" Emily asked, bemused.
"Look, look!" Matt hollered at her as she merged on to the sparsely populated highway.
"Would you relax? I know how to drive a car." Emily shook her head at him.
"I like my car and want to keep it in one piece."
"Thanks for trusting me," She commented, sarcasm dripping through her tone.
"I just- jesus careful!" Emily passed in front of a car while changing lanes- ten feet in front.
"Your worse than my father teaching me how to drive! How many times I driven us somewhere on this very highway?"
"It's different when it's my Mustang," Matt argued, while cringing, and jumping on the non-existent break below his feet.
"If you don't stop jumping out of your skin every time another car comes with in fifteen feet of this one, I'm going to pull over and make you drive me back to my apartment." She threatened, getting impatient with him.
"I don't mind driving."
"Then you won't get this surprise, and believe me when I say, you really want this surprise."
"You really won't tell me what it is?" He looked at her, just before once again going for his air brake.
"Matt! Stop with the damned airbrake, it's driving me crazy!" Emily snapped at him.
"Sorry! I'm nervous, nobody else has ever driven my car."
"Frank and Duff never asked to try it out?"
"Do you really think I'd let two constantly revved up, adrenaline junkies drive this car?" Matt gave her a sideways look.
She smirked at him, before glancing at a sign, and maneuvering toward an exit.
"Carlsbad? I don't get it? There isn't much to this town."
"Exactly." Emily took the car down a few gears as she took the exit, staying at a slower pace until hitting the beginnings of the town and pulling into a Raddison Hotel.
"Did you just drive us 25 minutes outside of the city, so we could get laid?" He was clearly amused as he looked at the sign for the hotel.
"Well, we could go back to L.A. if you're not interested." She gave him a teasing grin; she knew he wouldn't choose that.
Emily got out of the car, and tossed him the keys as he met her on the other side. "Take them back, I don't think I could go through another ride with your spastic movements."
"It wasn't that bad." Matt insisted, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her, evidently unable to wait as they walked to the hotel.
"You weren't driving," she answered, prying her mouth from his, "you know, I'm really starting to wonder if you do have Tourette's."
Her laughter and his annoyance were silenced by their mouths joining once again, as they fought to restrain their bodies until they were in a hotel room. An elevator ride never seemed longer.
I still can't believe they blew up that gorgeous Mustang, and so early in the show too. Anyway, this series is complete, thanks for reading and reviewing!