Author's Note: Well, the muse of Criminal Minds refuses to talk to me again. I'll try to think of some oneshot material, but if anybody has any ideas for either JJ/Rossi, Emily/Rossi or Hotch/Emily, somebody shoot me a review or PM. I love to write, but the creative ideas are refusing to flow. Anyhow, I've now officially written over a hundred Criminal Minds stories. Yay! Luckily the first to episodes have provided some wonderful material to feed into oneshots. Hope the third continues the run. Please read and review. It's always nice to hear from readers! As ever, I don't own Criminal Minds.

We Won

Marching up the flagstone path leading to David Rossi's back door, Emily Prentiss told herself that she would remain calm for this conversation. No matter what he said, she would remain cold and emotionless as a glacier. He'd crossed a line today. Relationship or no relationship, no one interfered with her career. She worked hard to earn the respect of her colleagues. Having David Rossi arbitrarily countermand one of her decisions in the field was unacceptable. And embarrassing. Not to mention, infuriating.

Pounding her small fist on the back door, she waited only a moment before ringing the doorbell insistently. Moments later, he'd jerked the back door open, glaring at her. "You DO have a key, ya know?" he said sarcastically. "I hardly think there was any need to try and break the door down banging on it, Prentiss."

Narrowing her eyes at the older man, Emily seethed as she said calmly, "Yes, but using said key would have implied that I think we still have a relationship. Which I DON'T! Not after today, Rossi!"

"I see you're still angry," he sighed, staring down at the normally pale agent's flushed cheeks.

"Angry? No, Rossi, I'm not angry. I'm furious. If I could figure out a way to shoot you and make it look accidental, I'd do it in a heartbeat," she railed.

"The book said you'd be emotional, but I never expected this," Dave scoffed.

"Don't start," Emily ordered, her words clipped.

"Start what, Emmy?" Dave said evenly. "Start by telling you that I'd never have stepped on your toes today if I didn't believe that you're carrying my kid? Start by informing you that if you'd just take the stupid test and get us some answers, we could go from there? Start what, exactly, babe?"

"I can't believe you're trying to blackmail me into taking a pregnancy test!" Emily hissed, following him into the kitchen. "It's stress, David! Stress! Stress that is growing exponentially the longer I spend in your company!"

"Does it occur to you that some of your stress might be alleviated if you'd simply go pee pee on a stick," Dave growled, picking up a paper bag from the kitchen counter and shaking it at her.

Batting the bag away, Emily resisted the urge to scream. "We've had this conversation every night this week! I'm not taking a test until I'm two weeks late!" Glancing at her watch, she ground out, "I still have three days!"

"Then for three more days, you'll have to put up with me dogging your every move," Dave retorted. "There isn't a snowball's chance in hell that I'm gonna stand around while you put yourself and my kid in the line of fire, Emmy! You can forget about that!"

"You're presuming an awful lot here, Rossi! Pregnant or not, I'm never going to bend to your omnipotent will! I swear to God, I'll take a position in another unit before I let that happen."

"And you should know that I'll be right behind you, Cara. I've got the power to follow through on my threats!" Dave snapped.

"Damn you! Why can't you just let this go?" Emily said tiredly, leaning against the kitchen counter and glaring across the room at him.

"Because we need to know, Em. You know we need to know. Three days isn't gonna make a difference if you're pregnant. We could know in three minutes, if you'd just cooperate! What are you scared of? The possibility that a baby will wreck your precious career? Would the knowledge that you're having my baby be that much of a blow?" Dave asked bitterly.

Closing her eyes, Emily prayed for patience. Prayed that she could resist the urge to cross the room and scratch his dark eyes out.

"Say something, damn it!" Dave yelled.

"You want me to say something, Rossi?" Emily bit out. "Well, try this. I'm not scared that I may be pregnant! I'm scared that I'm not!"

Shocked, Dave stared at Emily in silence. Finally swallowing, he narrowed his eyes and whispered, "Excuse me?"

Turning away from him, Emily braced her hands against the sink. "I don't want to be disappointed, okay? If I take the test and it's negative…I'm just not ready to be disappointed yet."

Sighing, Dave felt relief begin to seep through his body. It wasn't that she didn't want his child. She did. She wanted it so much that she was afraid to allow herself to hope for it. Afraid to allow herself to believe in the possibility…hell, the probability of it. Snagging the bag from the table again, he walked across the room to slip his arms around her waist and pull her back against his chest. "Emmy, the joy or disappointment is going to be the same whether we do the test now or wait three days. But both of us are agonizing over an answer we could already have. Take the test, babe. If we get a baby out of this, it won't be planned, but it'll be wanted by both of us. If we don't, we'll try. I promise, I'll devote every free moment to the pursuit of that goal," he murmured, kissing her neck. "But either way, we need to know. You know I'm right."

Dropping her head back against his shoulder, Emily drew in a deep breath. "You mean it? If I'm not, we'll try?"

"Every word," Dave whispered against her ear.

Nodding, Emily took the bag from him. "Give me a minute then," she said grudgingly.

"You want me to come with you?" Dave asked, tightening his arms around her.

"I'll come and get you when I'm done," Emily stalled, walking into the bathroom.

Coming out of the bathroom a minute later, she me t his eyes. "It takes three minutes," she muttered, glancing at her watch.

Seeing the pinched look on her face, Dave nodded. "Breathe, Emmy. We have a plan either way. You like plans, remember?"

"What if-"

Pressing a finger to her lips, Dave shook his head before encircling her in his arms. "Don't borrow trouble until we know the score, honey."

Nodding against his chest, Emily clutched his shirt as she scrunched her eyes shut. "I'm scared, Dave. I hate being scared."

"I know, Emmy," Dave said, smoothing a hand up and down her spine. "We'll handle whatever happens next though."

Two minutes later, he still held her as he glanced at his watch. "It's time," he said quietly.

Holding him tighter, Emily mumbled against his shirt, "I can't look, Dave. I just can't."

Easing her away from him, he propped her against the kitchen counter. "Then I'll do it. Two seconds, Em. I'll be two seconds."

Worrying her lower lip, Emily nodded as she watched him quickly cross the room and walk into the hallway. Grabbing the counter for balance, she never imagined she'd be in this position with this man. But, truly, she wouldn't want to be here with anyone else. Somewhere along the way, that infuriating man had become her other half. Turning, Emily filled a glass of water as she heard him return to the room.

"Emmy," he said softly.

Feeling her spine tighten, Emily forced herself to put the glass in her hand down as she said, "Just tell me, Dave."

"Emmy," Dave repeated. "Turn around. You need to look at me."

"Just tell me! It was negative, wasn't it?" she asked sharply.

"Emily, turn around!" Dave insisted.

Turning sharply, Emily yelled, "What?"

Holding up the stick showing two distinctive lines, Dave smiled. "We won."