"Hey, days almost over and I have a bottle of white wine chilling in my fridge," Matt whispered in his partner's ear, his breath tickling her neck, making her wiggle a little.

She didn't look up from what she was working on, but smiled and answered, "No zombies."

"Fine, I'll put on Lifetime, we'll ignore it anyway," he pointed out.

"I don't do Lifetime movies either, how about a drama?" She completely ignored his suggestive comment.

"How about we give my couch a break, and spend the evening in bed." He tried again.

"Hmmm…" she pretended to think about it, knowing that had they been alone, Matt would be tickling her in revenge by now. She felt his fingers hovering just above her abdomen, and shot him a warning look.

"Is there a reason you're torturing me right now, or is this just foreplay?"

Her grin turned seductive, "what do you think?"

His fingers made contact with her stomach, needing into that special spot that forced her to inhale sharply, and bit her lip to keep from squealing with laughter.

"Emily Lehman?" A man came stomping up to their cubicle and demanded, sending apart quickly. He was tall, over six feet, brown hair, five o'clock shadow, and not looking terribly put together.

"Yes, that's me. Can I help you?" She didn't recognize him.

"You rancid bitch!" He yelled at her, eyes blazing, neck muscles taught, everyone in the CNU now focused on the man cursing at one of their own.

Emily leaned back in surprise, eyes wide. "Sorry, uh who are you?"

"Hale Porter, Larry is my kid brother." His hands were clenched at his sides, and Matt was debating if he should call security.

"Larry Porter? The kid that held up the bodega on 128th?" The incident came back to her, she talked the kid into surrendering after he'd already shot one person. He was in prison awaiting trial.

"Yeah, you're the evil bitch that sent him to prison," he sneered.

"Mr. Porter, your brother's actions sent him to prison, I just got him there alive." She told him calmly.

"No! He's a good kid! He wouldn't do that, you screwed him over!" He yelled at her, getting in her face. Matt tensed behind her, but he let Emily fight her own battle.

"Mr. Porter, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down, if you want to continue our conversation." Her voice remained level, not intimidated by the angry man in front of her.

He was quiet for a few minutes, and Emily thought she actually got through to him. Then he reached his arm back, and sent his fist flying into her jaw, sending her stumbling backward awkwardly into Matt, twisting her foot and landing on it on the way down. She grabbed her jaw and heard Matt yell for someone to call security, as he stepped around her to try and restrain Hale, Frank and Duff running from the nook they'd been watching from to assist him.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Cheryl demanded coming out of her office to see the brawl in her CNU. Before anyone could answer four security officers ran out into the CNU, and took over subduing Hale.

"Emily, god are you alright?" Matt bent down to her, worry reflecting in his brown eyes.

She worked her jaw back and forth with her hand, trying to work it back to where it belonged. "Yeah, nothing that advil can't fix."

Frank, Duff and Cheryl were staring down at them, as Matt took her hand to help her stand. She used the foot she hadn't landed on to push her off the floor, and when she put her other foot down she almost hit the floor again.

"Oh, shit!" She cursed, as pained ripped through her foot. Matt eased her onto a chair, and worked off her heeled boot.

"While, he's playing doctor, somebody want to tell me what the hell just happened?" Cheryl demanded.

"Uh yeah, guy came in cursing and screaming at Lehman, got in her face, she tried to diffuse the situation, he hauled off and hit her, she went down." Duff summarized for her.

"Lehman, you sure he didn't break your jaw, that was a hell of a punch." Frank looked at her skeptically.

"My jaw is fine, my foot hurts, oh god! Easy Matt!" She yelled as he moved her foot.

"You need a hospital Emily, it's swollen, could be broken." He told her apologetically.

"It's not broken."

"You don't know that, you aren't a doctor." Matt engaged in the battle of wills she'd started.

"Fine, I'll walk on it," she bit back, using her good foot to push her up from the chair, hands on the arm rests to brace her. She slowly set her injured foot on the floor again, applied the tiniest amount of pressure, gasped in pain, and nearly fell into Matt again, as he helped her back in the chair.

"Can someone call an ambulance?" Matt turned to his companions.

"No! I do not need an ambulance, with your help I can limp to the car." So maybe she'd give in and go to the hospital, but she damn sure wasn't going to ride there in an ambulance and cause all that fuss.

"Okay then…Cheryl, we're leaving a little early." Matt rolled his eyes at his girlfriend's stubbornness, and before putting an arm around her waist to help her walk.

"Just call me when you find out something," she waved him off.

They made it two feet from the cubicle, going very slowly, most of the CNU still watching, when Matt just got fed up. Slipping his other arm down by her knees, he swept her into his arms in one swift motion.

"Matt, what are you doing? Put me down!" She howled at him.

"Nope." They were moving much faster now, and she was light enough that he wasn't having any difficulty.

"Matt, I can walk, put me down," she plead, embarrassed that he had to carry her, squirming to get him to listen.

"Emily, it's either I call an ambulance or I carry you to the car, pick one." Matt was losing his patience.

She didn't say anything, but stopped squirming, and allowed him to carry her without a complaint. Meanwhile, their coworkers were restraining themselves from laughing at the couple, as they disappeared at the elevator bank.

Three hours later, dinnertime was passing them by and Emily was nodding off, her head on Matt's shoulder. The pain was pretty bad, but bearable when she wasn't walking. They'd seen a doctor, gotten x-rays done, and were waiting in back in the ER waiting room for the results. Emily had tried to get him to leave twice, but as much as he hated hospitals, he wasn't moving until the doctors cleared her. Emily didn't like hospitals either, but she hated feeling needy and helpless, and damn it, her foot was not broken.

That didn't seem to matter though, because they still sat, asses sore from pressing against the hard plastic for too long, and Styrofoam coffee cups long since empty. It wasn't terribly busy in the ER, but all the usual cases were there tonight. A toddler who'd shoved something up his nose (currently screaming like a banshee), a child with a what was likely a broken arm, a young man with his elderly, coughing grandmother, adjusting her oxygen every now and again, two construction workers, one of whom was holding a towel against his bleeding head, and a woman who was pale and sweating with a high fever.

"Matt?...I'm sorry I was difficult earlier." Emily burrowed further into his shoulder.

He looked at her in surprise, turning to amusement, before kissing her. "I wouldn't take you any other way."

"Emily Lehman?" A nurse called from the doorway.

"Yes," Emily answered, rising with the help of Matt, and limping forward with his assistance.

"Hello, the doctor has your results as soon as I get you ready in the examine room. Are you alright like that, Mr. Lehman, would it be easier if I got a wheelchair?" She asked Matt, who had given up letting Emily walk again, and once again carried her in his arms.

Emily giggled silently, wait until she told their friends that.

"I'm fine, thanks. But, we're not married." He told her, he grimaced.

"Oh, sorry. I just figured, uh, you seem very close."

"Being partners for two years will do that." Matt explained.

"Oh, you're cops?"

"FBI actually, hostage negotiators."

"So, you're not…" The poor woman was growing more confused by the second, while Matt was playing dumb, as if their relationship wasn't odd, and Emily was smothering her laughter against Matt's shoulder.

"Oh no, we are, been together over a year now." He smiled proudly, as he set Emily down on the examination table.

"Oh…I'll get the doctor then." She hurried out confused.

"You enjoyed that," Emily grinned at him.

"Maybe I did, but she won't jump to conclusions anymore."

"What, you don't like being Mr. Lehman?"

"Mr. Lehman is your father, and there is so much I couldn't do if I was your father."

"Oh yeah? Like?" Her seductive smile returned, and her fingers trailed along his chest.

"This for one." He pressed his lips to hers, and waited until her mouth open to slip his tongue in, running his hands along her abdomen.

Emily pulled him closer to her, spreading her legs, so he was in between them, pressed against her. His fingers hit that special mark on her stomach and she giggled, and shifted slightly in his arms, causing them to finally break the kiss.

"What else couldn't you do?" She asked, her voice husky.

He grinned, but didn't offer a verbal answer. Instead his mouth hit her neck, and his hands went up her shirt, cupping her bra-clad breasts. She gasped-moaned, and moved her left hand down low to his pants, her fingers just barely grazing the denim when the door swung open.

They jumped back like teenagers caught by their parents, and pretended to look innocent, like teenagers caught by their parents do. The doctor looked amused more than anything, but pretended he hadn't noticed anything amiss.

"So, Ms. Lehman, I'm Dr. Anderson, the resident podiatrist and you broke a bone in your foot. I'm going to put on a hard cast for now, and we'll see you again in two weeks to see how it's healed." He smiled as a nurse brought in a tray of materials.

"Okay," Emily sighed in resignation.

"So, what color would you like? I have: pink, green, purple, blue and white."

The colors were all neon, and so as not to feel like a five year-old, Emily opted for the white. It took the doctor about twenty minutes to shape the cast around her foot and lower ankle. She could smell the foul chemicals and it brought back memories of a childhood injury, a broken ankle when she was twelve. He finally finished and left for another fifteen, only to come back with a pair of aluminum crutches.

"Oh no. No, no, no. I am not walking on crutches," Emily insisted, shaking her head back and forth. She remember that too from when she was twelve, the annoyance and the sore, irritated armpits.

"It's either this or I grab a wheelchair, which tends to be cumbersome, and forces you to endure physical therapy afterward." He looked at her pointedly, Emily glaring back, and now Matt struggling not to laugh at her.

"Fine, give me the crutches." She sighed again, already hating it.

"Stand up, let me adjust them to your height." He instructed her as he shifted the crutches and handlebars to the appropriate height.

"Thank you," she told him grudgingly, now wanting nothing more than to go home and pass out.

"Great so do either of you have any questions?" He watched them shake their heads.

"Alright then I'll see you back here in two weeks Emily." He smiled, and opened the door for them to walk out, before suddenly remembering something. "Oh, one more thing. You might want to be careful having sex with that cast on, you know for his sake."

He smiled at them, as both were struck with the mental picture of Matt accidentally getting the hard cast shoved in his groin area. He knew exactly what he'd seen when he walked in. After mumbled thank yous and goodbyes, they left as hurriedly as Emily could on the crutches.

She was struggling by the time they got to the car, winded and frustrated, cursing the crutches, her foot, Hale and the entire circumstances.

"You okay?" Matt asked gingerly, helping her into the car.

"No, I hate this. I broke my ankle was I was twelve and remember it as the most miserable experience of my life. I hate these damned crutches!" She cursed them as she threw them in the backseat.

"You know, there is a silver lining here." He tried to coax her.

"And what's that?" She demanded.

He leaned close to her, "this gives you an excuse to crash at my place for a few weeks."

Emily pulled his head closer to hers and pressed her lips to his, bestowing a kiss upon her brave man, who would risk a rock hard cast to the balls, just to get laid.

I broke my foot three years ago, and recently fell, while walking in Manhattan, and was worried I broke the other one the same way. Needless to say, my feet are fine, but it spurred yet another story from me, though maybe not one of my best. Thanks for reading, and please review! Next Month coming soonish!