Author's Note: This little piece was inspired by Kavi Leighanna & Sienna27's May Television Prompt Challenge #18. Thanks, ladies, for keeping my muse rocking and rolling. This also couldn't have been written without tonnie2001969 and her considerable beta talents and njborba's very keen Morgan/Emily eye. And thanks, njborba for the title idea. You girls rock! Please, readers, keep in mind that this is my first foray into the Derek/Emily pairing. I needed to stretch my writing muscle once more.
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Prompt: Desperate Housewives - "Nice is Different Than Good"
Walking out of that frigid meat locker and into the balmy night, Emily Prentiss shivered as she struggled to regain her emotional equilibrium. So many lives, lost needlessly...and for what reason? "Why?" she muttered to herself angrily, shaking her head morosely as she stared at the broken pavement, "What was the point?"
"Hey! Prentiss! Emily!" Morgan called, jogging to catch up with the raven haired woman. Catching a glimpse of her pale cheeks...the uncharacteristically wet cheeks…he winced as he finally reached her elbow, halting her onward propulsion. "Ah, hell," he said softly, watching another shudder rack her. Quickly stripping off his leather jacket, he draped it around her narrow shoulders and tugged her into the shadows of the building behind them.
"I'm o-okay," Emily chattered as her fingers pulled tightly at the heavily material. "I just need a sec to wrap my mind around all that," she said, nodding toward the warehouse that local law enforcement currently swarmed, the red and blue lights garish in the black of night.
"We've both seen worse, Em," Morgan reminded her gently as one of his large hands swept up and down her back, trying to coax some circulation back into her thin body.
"Yeah," Emily agreed tiredly, leaning her shoulder against the metal wall of the nearest building, "but usually, my mind's able to make some kind of order of the unsub's crime. This," she frowned, nodding toward the ambulances pulling into the lot, "I just..."
Seeing the articulately seamless Emily Prentiss struggling for words that wouldn't come, Derek shook his head, pulling Emily's still quaking body against his chest. "Maybe it's not always supposed to make sense. To tell you the truth, sometimes I'm grateful that I can't wrap my head around what these unsubs do," he whispered raggedly against her hair. "It means that we're not like them."
Smiling against the body cradling hers, Emily reminded herself that she shouldn't enjoy the strong arms surrounding her so much. But as the quivers began to recede and she stood in the warm circle of his arms, the comfort radiating from her friend and colleague couldn't be ignored. Eyes drifting shut, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the spicy scent of his cologne, the ripped feel of his muscles beneath her cheek. Finally tilting her head to stare into the darkly intense chocolate eyes of her friend, Emily lifted a chilled hand to cup his cheek. "You really are one of the nice guys, Derek," she whispered softly.
"Nah," he replied, his white teeth gleaming as he slowly smiled, the feel of the pads of her fingers unbelievably soft against his jaw. "I'm one of the good guys."
"What's the difference?" Emily chuckled, patting his warm cheek gently.
"Nice guys finish last, Prentiss," Morgan said, his voice like velvet in the heavy night surrounding them.
"Really," Emily returned, her body shivering again, this time for a completely different reason as the chords of that seductive voice caressed her.
"Mmm hmmm," he rumbled, tightening his arms around her trim waist, pulling her sinuous body to his. "A nice guy wouldn't have the stones to do this," he grinned, lowering warm lips to hers.
His tongue slipped easily past her lips...and her defenses. Surprised, it took her a heartbeat to realize that his hands had expertly lifted to her neck, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Eyes fluttering, she felt the slow burn of passion building low in her belly, and as hard as she tried to extinguish it, his tender touch and expert kiss only built the flame. Damn, if Derek Morgan's lips weren't a lethal weapon...her own personal Kryptonite.
As his lips slowly separated from hers, Emily's eyes widened even as her fingers clutched tighter at the loose fabric of his shirt. "Wow," Emily whispered shakily, her mind barely able to comprehend what had just happened.
"Yeah," Morgan nodded, his own central nervous system threatening to short circuit. "You okay now?" he asked as he pulled back an inch, putting some distance between their bodies. At her nod, he took a step back. "I guess my point is that when you're ready to stop settling for what's nice and easy and are ready for good, but complicated, I'll be around," he said huskily before striding back toward the crime scene.
And as his steps pounded against the pavement, Emily Prentiss knew one thing for certain. Nice was overrated. And good...well, good was simply sinful. Smiling in bemusement as she pulled his jacket tighter around her shoulders, she watched the graceful stride of the man who'd kissed her carry him away.
And she couldn't wait to indulge again.