Regrets You Never Want To Have After A Bittersweet Parting (1/2), Rossi/Prentiss, NC-17

[innerslytherin]

 
Title: Regrets You Never Want To Have After A Bittersweet Parting (1/2)
Authors: innerslytherin and severity_softly
Pairing: Rossi/Prentiss
Rating: NC-17
WC: ~13,300
Summary: Things with Dave haven't smoothed over quite so well after Emily's pregnancy scare...and suddenly they may not have time left to make things right.

Notes: This fic is part of the What Happens In Vegas Universe.  While it can be read as a stand-alone fic, it takes place after the other fics in the universe, and we feel that reading Why You Should Never Drink Too Much in Vegas and Things You Never Want to Hear After a One-Night-Stand in Vegas will add to your enjoyment of this fic.

This is the last fic in the series.
 
 


The case was over.  They'd caught the bad guy, come home, and turned in their paperwork.  Emily had declined an invitation to go out with Morgan and Reid, and she'd heard the others do the same.  It hadn't been a bad case, as far as these things went, but it had been a long one.  Three weeks away from home really wore you out.  She just wanted to go home, relax with a glass of Merlot, and try not to think about the way Dave still looked at her or the things they'd said to each other.
 
She was in sweatpants and an old flannel shirt stolen from a long-forgotten ex, curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, when her house phone rang.  She groaned and took long enough getting up to answer it that it stopped.  Barely a heartbeat later her cell phone started ringing.  A chill went down her back for no good reason, and she snatched up the phone, glancing at the caller ID.
 
"Hotch?"

"Emily, there's been an accident.  I need you at Potomac Hospital as soon as you can get here."
 
"What happened?" she demanded.  "Did some--"
 
His voice was heavy.  "It's Dave."
 
 
***
 

Emily's heart was thudding painfully in her chest as she ran down the narrow corridor of the apartment complex.  It always did that, and she always ignored it, especially when she had her team behind her.

This time, though, there was no team.  Hotch, who apparently either hadn't noticed the vibe between Emily and Dave lately or had decided to ignore it, was still pairing Dave with Emily on nearly every other case, it seemed.  Problem was, this time, they'd walked right into the unsub's apartment complex and only known that after the fact, thinking they were only going to be interrogating a witness.  Hotch had called Dave at the last second before they walked into a disaster.

Of course, there was always the chance the unsub would flee, so Emily and Dave weren't about to wait on back up; she was sliding along the wall, her back to it, with her gun drawn and only Dave for back up.

Not that there was any other one person she would rather have at her back; she would just prefer to have the whole team.  She got to one side of the door and glanced at Dave.  Their gaze held for an instant, and she nodded.  He slammed the heel of his hand against the door repeatedly.
 
"Scott Wister, open up, FBI!"  He waited a few beats, then pounded the door again.  After a moment he nodded to her and she crouched a little so he wouldn't block her shot as he kicked in the door.  God, she shouldn't be capable of noticing how sexy he was when they were about to come face-to-face with a serial rapist who had just escalated to murder.
 
The apartment was empty.  There were signs that he'd returned home since the latest assault, but he wouldn't be back at this point.  Emily and Dave called the news to Hotch, then started combing the apartment for clues.
 
Wister was starting to panic, to get sloppy, and he'd left a print out in his printer that confirmed the purchase of a bus ticket out of town that afternoon.  Hotch told them to keep looking for evidence while the rest of the team went to the station.  Not ten minutes later, Emily was staring down into a chest that contained literally thousands of pictures of the victims, all in various states of undress, all in demeaning positions.  There were women pictured the team didn't even know about.

"God," she said, just staring.  "Dave," she called.  "I found our evidence."

"Good," he said, not looking up from the dresser.  "I've got a baggie full of women's undergarments here.  Not to mention your standard collection of bondage porn.  We need to get the local guys in here to bag everything.  If he really got on that bus, this is open-and-shut."

She glanced back at him, looking at the baggie, which looked too small given the number of pictures.  Either Wister started collecting late, or there would be more to find.  "On it," she muttered, and got on her phone to the local PD as she searched a bit more.

By the time the police got to the apartment and Dave and Emily were leaving it, it was all over.  Hotch, Morgan, and Reid confronted Wister at the bus station, and wound up having to take him out, but only after he killed a civilian.  It meant an end to the murder and rape, but Emily always hated when cases ended like this.  There was no real resolution, no justice being served, just more death and their unsub getting the easy way out.

Emily slid into the passenger side of the SUV she'd shared with Dave, and looked out the window as they drove.  It was strange how quiet things were between them now when they didn't have work to discuss.
 
Dave still treated her with warmth and respect, but there was a reserve there that hadn't been there before.  It made sense; he was protecting himself.  She was doing the same.  It was awful, because she'd liked him from the beginning, despite his awkward dealings with the team at first.  She hadn't realized just what a good friend he was until she felt like she'd lost that.
 
Finally Dave switched on the radio, but instead of making her feel better, it just seemed to emphasize that they weren't talking.  She stared miserably out the window and thought of conversations she could start, dismissing each one in turn.
 
"We've got a long drive back," Dave said.  "You want to grab something to eat somewhere?"
 
She looked back over at him.  His eyes were steadfastly on the road.  "We're not flying back tonight?" she asked.  When he didn't respond, implying the answer was yes, she shrugged.  "Sure.  I'm buying.  What do you want?"

He glanced at her then, just a flicker of his eyes, then back to the road.  "Whatever you want is fine," he said.  "I didn't have anything in mind."
 
In spite of herself, she smiled.  "Could you be less decisive, please?"

"Gee, I don't know, Em, how are you gonna react if I suggest we stop somewhere nice?  Am I going to get a polite shut-down or a 'this isn't a good idea, Dave'?"  His words had bite to them, which she hadn't been expecting.  She opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head and sighed.  "Look, I'm sorry.  Just...pick somewhere."
 
She clenched her jaw for a moment, and looked back out the window.  Was he harboring this anger at her, at the way things had happened between them, all the time?  She shook her head.  "Never mind.  I'm not really hungry.  I'll eat at the hotel."

"Right, I forgot option three, the cold shoulder."  Dave snorted.  "God, it's like being married without any of the benefits."
 
She turned a glare on him.  "First of all, you're the one who just snapped at me out of the blue.  Second of all, if you're apparently angry enough for that to happen in the first place, with no provocation, maybe we shouldn't spend additional time together outside of what's required of us."  She crossed her arms over herself and frowned at the dash.

"Thank you for that dose of logic; that's all I was missing in my evening," he muttered.  "Fine."  He flicked on his turn signal and switched lanes, and didn't speak again.
 
Her frown deepened, but she didn't say anything.  They'd been working well together, even if she did catch him looking at her from time to time.  They'd been friendly, but not overly so.  Things were tense, but this was the last thing she'd expected.  She thought they'd just go on not talking about it, and she was fine with that.  Mostly fine with that.

Fine enough.

Neither of them spoke for another few blocks, but once the can of worms was open, she couldn't put it out of her head.  Finally she turned to glare at him.  "What the hell, Dave?  Where did that come from?"

"Nowhere.  It doesn't matter."  His words were clipped, and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.  After a few moments he sighed.  "All right.  Honestly?  I don't think I can sit across from you in a nice restaurant and feel at all okay with that.  I wouldn't mind getting supper, but it's going to have to be something cheap and nothing like a date."
 
"Drive through?" she suggested dryly, annoyed with herself for still being annoyed.

"Right, I forgot about the not spending time with me part," he said, but he sounded more disappointed than angry.  "There's a Steak'n Shake up there."
 
"Do you honestly feel like spending time with me right now?" she asked.

"I don't think there's any way I can answer that and win," Dave replied.  "The Steak'n Shake drive-through okay with you?"

"It's not about winning," she grumbled, but she knew he was right.  "It's fine."

He sighed.  "Okay, poor word choice."  He pulled into the drive-through and they sat in silence until it was time to order.  He glanced over at her for her to order ahead of him, then added his.  "I don't even know whether to hold you to paying, since I pissed you off," he admitted finally as they approached the window.

She snorted and pulled out her wallet.  "I did offer," she said.  Not to mention, it was cheap.  If they'd gone someplace more expensive after he pissed her off, she might not have made good on her offer.

"Yeah, well."  They collected their food and he pulled back out onto the road.  "I'm sorry I said anything.  We've already decided that nothing's going to change, and I know it doesn't do me any good to be upset about it.  I shouldn't have said anything."

No, you shouldn't have, Emily thought, but bit her tongue and simply nodded.

"Thanks for dinner," he added, and then wisely turned his attention back to the road and his fries.

"You're welcome," she murmured.

The rest of the drive to the hotel was silent, punctuated only by sparse talk of work and the case they'd just finished.  When they arrived, Dave didn't do anything differently than he usually did, but she was more aware of the way he opened doors for her and somehow made her feel happy about that instead of insulted.  He paused in the hall when they got to her room, but then he didn't say anything.  He shook his head and walked away.

"Good night," she said after Dave got half-way down the hall.  There was a tiny pause in his steps, and she heard, faintly, his reply.

"Sweet dreams."

The night felt like it dragged on longer than was possible.  Emily just sat in her bed in her hotel room, staring at the TV, but not really watching it, trying not to think about Dave or the argument they had.  Or the way it obviously still bothered him that they couldn't be together, and that meant that he still wanted her.

And God damn it, she still wanted him too, but it was too stupid to keep letting herself consider.

As slow as time was moving, she didn't go to sleep until she found herself watching some infomercial for the latest ab-flattening device the whole world just had to have.  As a result, she was more tired than she should have been when she dragged herself onto the jet the following morning.

Morgan sat down next to her, offering a cup of coffee.  "Long night?  When did you and Dave get in, anyway?  I never heard him come back."

She took the coffee and scowled around the cabin.  Dave and Hotch were sitting together near the front of the plane.  JJ and Reid were chatting while Reid shuffled a deck of cards.

"We weren't too late," Emily said, taking a sip of the offered drink.  "I just didn't sleep well, is all.  I'm fine," she added, then looked back at him and managed a smile.

Morgan grunted.  "Be good to get home," he said, apparently accepting her answer.  "My dog's probably forgotten what I look like."

She laughed softly.  "My own bed sounds pretty fantastic."  She managed a lopsided smile and looked at him.  "Maybe a dip in the hot tub."

Morgan laughed, too.  "Yeah, and I'm not invited, I know."  He nudged her playfully and then pulled his iPod out of his pocket.  "You mind?"

Emily just shook her head.  She wouldn't be good conversation, anyway, so he might as well listen to music.  She glanced around the cabin again in time to intercept a look from Dave.  He didn't look away, but she couldn't gauge his expression.  After a moment the pause in conversation apparently caught Hotch's attention and he looked over, too.

She looked back at him, and gave him a tiny nod, just an acknowledgment because she couldn't try to pretend he hadn't seen that, and then dropped her gaze.  She could feel their gazes on her a moment longer as she reached down to pull a book from her purse, and tried to ignore it.  She hoped that even if Hotch had seen Dave look at her, he wouldn't understand why.  He seemed to know everything, really, but it wasn't anything for him to be concerned about any more.  It wouldn't, and hadn't affected the team dynamic.

She realized after a few minutes that she was chewing her lower lip, and made herself stop.

Hotch didn't leave his seat, but he did lean over and say something to Dave that looked more serious than whatever conversation they'd already been having.  Oh, God, he'd seen something there, hadn't he?  She sighed and turned back to her book.

She ended up curled at the end of the couch as Morgan fell asleep and sprawled his six-foot-whatever frame out.  Finally she got up and went to join JJ and Reid, and the rest of the flight passed quickly.  For whatever reason, Hotch never approached her, and Emily was content not to question it.  She went home, looking forward to fire, flannel, and a glass of Merlot.

And then the phone rang.


***


Emily's heart was thudding painfully in her chest as she ran down the narrow corridor of the apartment complex.  Only this time, it was her own apartment building, and Dave wasn't behind her.  Dave was in the hospital, and she had to fight the surge of emotion as she ran out and flagged down a cab, still in the flannel shirt and sweat pants.  She'd only stopped to grab her purse on the way out the door.

Once she was in the cab, where she didn't have to do any of the work of actually getting to the hospital herself, she had even more trouble fighting the tears that were welling in her eyes.  The last thing they'd done together was fight.

The cab driver didn't talk.  Maybe it was because the destination was a hospital.  Maybe he just didn't care about the woman trying desperately not to break down in his back seat.  He just drove and told her the fare when he stopped.  Emily wiped her eyes and overpaid him.

She knew Hotch would be there when she got to the waiting room, so she stopped for a moment, trying to calm down.  This wasn't the time to break down, she told herself, then abruptly told herself that if it were up to her, it would never be time to break down.  She needed to get inside, and worry about Hotch later.

She knew her eyes would be red, and she had obviously not bothered to change, but she thought she had done a decent job of covering most of her upset by the time she reached him in the waiting room. 

"Hotch," she said.  "What happened?"  She looked around them.  He'd only called her.  Had Dave asked for her?  God, she hoped Dave was capable of asking.

He stood as she approached, and then his hands were on her shoulders.  That couldn't be good.  He was steadying her before delivering bad news.  "Emily..."

"Just tell me," she pleaded.

"I was several cars behind him at a light that had just turned green.  A woman talking on her cell phone ran the light and hit him broadside."  Hotch's brows drew together.  "He was unconscious when I reached him, but he was somewhat awake and responsive by the time the EMTs brought him here."

She nodded, her brows drawing together, then glanced at the patient rooms.  She was being obvious.  She really couldn't care.  "Good.  Good.  Is he okay?"

Hotch made a noise she couldn't interpret.  "He was unconscious long enough that he's been admitted overnight.  He's got a moderate-to-severe concussion, but the doctor doesn't think the skull is fractured.  If he's responding well tomorrow morning, the doctor won't order a CT scan.  His nose is broken."

She nodded slowly, clenching her jaw against another wave of emotion she really didn't want to show.  Rather than meet Hotch's gaze, she looked around again, then asked, "You didn't call anyone else, did you?"

His expression softened.  "Emily, I called you."  He squeezed her shoulders lightly, then stepped back.  "Room one-fourteen.  I'll get someone to bring his 'spare' car over to the hospital."

She looked back at him.  "You're leaving?"

His lips just barely quirked up.  "You don't need me here, and he won't care."

She pursed her lips and watched him.  "He will care, he just won't admit it," she said.

His lips quirked a little more.  "I'm really not his type.  Let me know if you need anything."  And with those words, he was gone, walking alone up the hallway towards the exit.

She stood there for a moment, blinking at the spot where he'd been standing, and then shook herself and headed to Dave's room.


***


The first thing Dave was aware of when he woke up was pain that seemed to splash in colorful bursts across the insides of his eyelids.  The second was that someone was holding his hand.  He accepted that second matter for the moment and considered the pain.  His head felt like something was squeezing it and his nose was throbbing.  Concussion, then, and a broken nose.  But he couldn't for the life of him remember what had happened.

He tried to peel his eyes open, but the moment he did a searing light stabbed into his brain.  He squeezed them shut again and groaned.  The hand holding his tightened.

"Shh."  Another hand rested lightly against his chest.  "Don't try to move.  Do you need a nurse?" 

Emily.  Aaron must have called her.  At the memory of Aaron, part of the accident started to filter into his mind, but the memories were foggy and didn't stay long.  Still, his lips curled a little that she was here.  It hurt like hell, but he couldn't help it.

"Could I get you to play nurse for me?" he mumbled.  God, that was the wrong thing to say; the last time they'd talked he'd picked a fight with her, and now he was making inappropriate jokes.  But she was holding his hand.  She'd been worried.

And to his surprise, she laughed.  It was shaky, not quite right, but then she cleared her throat, and when she spoke, her voice was equally unsteady.  "I can see I came down here for nothing.  You're obviously fine."

He ignored the sting in his cheek as his smile widened.  "Yeah, you know, damn hard-headed."  He pried one eye open and realized it was harder than it should be.  "I must look fantastic.  Thanks for not jumping me right here."

She smiled, but her eyes looked a little too shiny.  "I don't know.  You look like maybe you just got out of some bar brawl.  It's kind of tough and sexy, but I don't want to make it any worse."

He grunted in amusement.  "Yeah, I hear you've got a mean right hook."  He pried his other eye open and tried to make them focus on her.  "I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

She looked at him for a long moment, then dropped her gaze.  He couldn't read her expression for a moment, but when she looked back up, she seemed to be clinging to control.  She lifted a hand and gently brushed her fingers over his cheek.  It hurt, but it also felt too good to stop.

"You ruined my night," she said after a moment, her voice thick with emotion.

He cleared his throat.  "I guess I'm pretty good at that."  He let his eyelids droop for a second, then forced them open again.  "I'd say I'm sorry, but...you're here."

She smiled, but it was tight.  A moment later she expelled a shaky breath.  "God, Dave," she whispered.  "This... was a bit of an extreme gesture just to get me to come around."  Her fingertip touched his bottom lip, making him shiver.  "You could have at least tried chocolate first."
 
He kissed her finger.  "I'll remember that next time we have a fight," he murmured.  He wanted to feel bad for making her worry, but it was hard, since it was nice to know she cared enough to worry.
 
"You'd better," she said, shifting closer.  Her fingers were brushing gently over his hair a moment later, and he let his eyes close.  "Do you need a real nurse?  Are you hurting?"

"I feel like shit," he admitted.  "But I really don't want you going anywhere.  Maybe you could kiss it better."
 
Her fingers stopped, and for a split second he wondered if he'd actually misstepped this time, but then she murmured, "That really only works when you're eight."  Her voice was warm and her fingers resumed sifting through his hair.  "I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are."

Dave smiled faintly.  "It'd be worth it."  He opened his eyes and looked up at her.  "I wouldn't mind some Tylenol or something."  He'd really rather have the kiss, but he was afraid to push.  She was here.  That was enough for now.

Her hand slid down to cup his jaw.  In spite of her words, she couldn't seem to stop touching him.  It was nice.  It had been a long time since anyone had actually taken care of him.

"Which would you rather..." she started, then bit her lips together and looked at him.  Then she just leaned down and pressed her lips to his, barely touching.

"Mmm."  He lifted a hand and touched her hair, not wanting her to pull away.  He found himself suddenly hoping it was possible to win Emily Prentiss.  It was a hope so fierce it was almost an ache; he'd long since learned that hope hurt worse than disappointment.
 
Her lips parted gently against his lower lip, and a little jolt of electricity went through him.  He could tell she was trying to let him control the kiss, though, so he curled his fingers and pulled her closer, slipping his tongue past her lips.  For a moment it felt amazing to be kissing her again, so he tried to deepen it, and a little bolt of pain went through his head. 

He groaned in spite of himself, and she pulled away, far enough to break the kiss, though she was still close enough that when she spoke, he could feel her breath on his skin.

"This is still a stupendously stupid idea," she whispered.

"Probably," he agreed, but when he opened his eyes, he knew she could see very clearly how happy this stupid idea made him.  He stroked his fingers over her hair, watching her.
 
Her pupils were huge, and she gazed back at him for a moment, then brushed her lips to his again, just a slight press of skin to skin.

"I see he's back from the dead," someone said, and Emily jerked back and looked at the source of the voice.

Emily cleared her throat, looking a little embarrassed, which only got worse when the nurse continued.

"Don't go gettin' him all riled up, now.  He's not ready for any vigorous activities."  She moved to stand over Dave on the opposite side of the bed from Emily and started to check Dave over.  "Are you the Missus?"

"Ah, no," Emily said, and the nurse grinned at her.

"Then you best be gettin' out of here before the Missus shows up then, shouldn't you?"  She turned her attention back to shining a light in Dave's eyes, and Dave groaned.  "Handsome man like this is surely spoken for."
 
"Apparently the lady takes some convincing," Dave said, tightening the fingers of the hand still gripping Emily's.  "But I'm working on her.  Ow."
 
"Your pupils are looking a little better," the nurse said.  "I suppose you want something for the headache besides the lady's kisses?"
 
Dave tried to glare at the woman, but he had a feeling it wasn't very effective.  "Please."
 
She grinned again and glanced at Emily.  "I'll be back with some medication.  The doctor will be here in about half an hour to look you over."
 
Emily nodded, and the nurse left.  She gave Dave a look.  "She was right about the handsome part.  Even if you do look a bit like Quasimodo right now."

"Gee, thanks.  Does that make you Esmerelda?"  He brought their hands up to kiss her fingers.  "She's right about the spoken for part, too," he said.  As soon as the words were out, his heart jumped into his throat and he thought he might choke.  Oh, God, that was stupid.  Emily Prentiss made him stupid.
 
She made a little breathy sound and squeezed his hand.  "Good to know."

He exhaled in relief and closed his eyes.  "So I figured out I have a concussion and a broken nose.  You have any idea what else is wrong with me?"
 
"Well, you're arrogant, a bit of a drama queen sometimes, and you're too sexy for your own damn good, which only feeds into the aforementioned arrogance..."  He forced his eyes open and glared weakly at her, and she grinned.  "Oh, you meant physically?"

"Smartass," he said, but his lips twitched.  God, he was utterly addicted to this woman.  This was such a bad idea.
 
"You like it," she said, brushing her knuckles against his jaw.  "Hotch said you're stuck here overnight, but if you're doing better tomorrow, they won't need to do a CT scan."

"Hotch is here?"  Hotch couldn't be here if Emily was kissing him, though.  Dave frowned, then winced at the pain.  Hadn't he seen Hotch earlier?  "I can't remember..."
 
"Was here," she corrected.  "He called me and then dumped me with you."

Hotch had called Emily.  Dave wondered if he'd asked for her before.  Probably.  "Oh, so I'm just an assignment," he teased.  He really wished the nurse would come back with a painkiller.  "Damn.  How's my truck?"
 
"I'm guessing not good.  He said he'd send your other car up here tomorrow."  She shifted back a bit, stroking her hand down his arm.

He groaned.  "I loved that truck."  He sighed and looked at her.  "You're beautiful," he murmured, though privately he realized he'd never seen her dressed so casually.  It looked like a men's flannel shirt she was wearing, and it sent a low pulse of jealousy through him, even though he knew he had no right.
 
She must have seen him look, because she looked down at herself and huffed a laugh. "Right," she said, giving him a look.

"You are."  He lifted a hand to brush her cheek.  "I'm glad you're here.  I already said that, didn't I?"  Where was the nurse?  His head ached horribly, and he had a feeling he was sounding thicker than usual.

"Yeah, you did."  She turned her head to kiss his palm.  "It's good to hear, though."

***
 
 
Late evening the next day found Dave stretched out on the couch in his den, enjoying the fire and wondering where Emily had got to.  She'd been thrilled when his car showed up at the hospital and turned out to be a Bentley, and there hadn't been any question that she was driving him home.  What he didn't know was how long she was staying, or if she was willing to stay at all.  He thought they had reached a tacit agreement that, even if it was a bad idea, they were going to pursue this.  For that matter, he figured they had Hotch's blessing, since Hotch had called Emily to the hospital.
 
Once they'd got here and Emily had Dave settled on the couch, though, she'd vanished, and Dave wasn't sure where she was.  His cat wasn't curled up on his chest, though, which meant it was probably following her around, wherever she was.
 
He wasn't aware of falling asleep, but at some point he woke up and she was sitting in the recliner, reading.  He shifted to see her better, holding in all but a tiny grunt of pain.
 
She looked up from the book, then put it down against her leg, momentarily bookmarking it with her thigh.  "Do you need anything?" she asked, watching him.

He smiled.  "I have what I need right here."  Okay, so he was sappy.  He couldn't bring himself to care.

She rolled her eyes.  "You know what I mean.  Are you hurting?"

"Am I allowed to take anything yet?  I could use something."  He pushed himself up on one elbow.  "Will you stay?"
 
She had dog-eared the page as soon as he'd started talking (and he'd bitten back the impulse to say anything--it was her book, after all), getting ready to get up, then paused when he finished.  "I--" she started, then stopped and looked at him.  "If...  you mean stay stay, or just stay for a while?"

He hesitated, studying her expression and posture.  "I was just asking you to stay for a while," he said slowly, "but that was only because I hadn't realized that staying was an option.  If I asked you to stay stay...would you?"  God, he hated feeling this vulnerable, and he knew he wouldn't be able to just blame it on the painkillers.  She would know better.  But at the same time, he'd already thrown away his pride the second time he'd slept with her.  He'd made it very clear then how he felt about her, and nothing was going to change that now.
 
She eyed him for a moment, then pressed her lips together.  "It would be an option," she said.  "If that's what you're asking."  She paused for a moment, looking away, then added, "I didn't realize I wasn't already invited to stay for a while."  She looked back and gave him a sheepish grin.

Dave cleared his throat.  "I...didn't want to take anything for granted," he said, his voice husky.  "I'd like you to stay, Emily."  He ought to feel something other than sheer breathless surprise, but he couldn't quite believe she was giving in this easily.  After the way they'd agreed it was stupid, they both knew they disagreed on the matter of children...she was saying yes to him anyway.
 
She nodded slowly, thinking.  "I need to go home and get my things," she said.

"You can borrow some things at least until tomorrow," he replied, and then grinned faintly.  "It would be better than looking at you wearing some other man's shirt."  He liked the idea of Emily borrowing his clothes, wearing one of his striped button-downs and an old pair of boxers, or maybe a pair of his pajamas.
 
She pursed her lips at him.  "I don't even remember which one that shirt was from, just that my mother probably hated him," she said, then shifted out of her seat and went towards the kitchen.  "I bet... that I can read your mind right now," she added, disappearing into the kitchen.

She probably could, if she realized he was thinking that Emily had probably liked the man because her mother hated him, which turned into him thinking Emily's mother would certainly hate him, which made him consider--and then quickly dismiss--the idea that that might be what attracted Emily to him.  And at least a small corner of his mind was reserved for agreeing with Em's mother, at least on the matter of hating that ex.
 
When she returned with pills and a glass of water, he groaned happily.  "You are an angel," he said, swallowing them happily.
 
"You know that's not true," she murmured, brushing her hand over his hair, and then taking the glass back.

"Well, you're my kind of angel," he said, smiling crookedly at her.  He scooted back against the back of the couch and caught gently at her wrist.  "Sit with me."
 
She tilted her head at him and then sat next to him.  "You're impossible to refuse when you look this pathetic."

"Pathetic?  Thanks a lot."  He slid an arm around her waist, holding her loosely.  "And here I thought it was my charm."
 
She made a little dissatisfied noise, and then pulled his arm away.  Then she shifted him to pull him back against her.  "Maybe it's equal parts.  Is this okay?" she asked, sliding her arms around him gingerly.
 
"Perfect," he said contentedly.




They spent the remainder of the night in quiet companionship, talking on occasion, but mostly Dave just let Emily stroke his hair as he drifted in and out of sleep under the influence of his medication.  At some point, he woke up and she had turned the television on quietly, but she hadn't moved, and then the next thing he knew, she was nudging him lightly.

"Hey.  It's late," she whispered.  "You'll feel better in bed than you will if you sleep out here."
 
"Mmnnh," he agreed, and yawned.  He pushed himself to the edge of the couch, then stood up slowly, fighting the disorientation that inevitably came from being upright.  "I have some pajamas that would look fantastic on you," he murmured.
 
Her hand was against his back, and he could hear the grin in her voice more than see it as he tried to wake up enough to actually move.  "You wear pajamas?"
 
He scowled sleepily at her.  "Something amusing about that?"
 
"It's cute," she said, sounding more amused.

"Cute," he said, his voice flat.  But he started for the bedroom, not really upset.  If she wanted to call him cute, she could call him cute.  She was staying.  She was staying.  He wasn't entirely sure how he'd gotten so lucky.  She'd pointed out before that he could have any woman he wanted, but the question wasn't having, it was keeping.  And he still felt a happy sort of bewilderment that she was letting him keep her.
 
She followed him, her hands sliding under his shirt as they walked, just barely, her fingers splayed against the small of his back.  "I thought you might go the button-up shirt and panties route."

He shivered.  "As utterly delightful as that sounds, I'm afraid I would be tempted to get riled up, and I think I'm still not ready for 'vigorous activities', much to my disappointment."  He stopped walking and turned to steal a kiss.  "But that will definitely figure into our plans for after I don't get dizzy every time I move too quickly."
 
"Okay," she breathed, and kissed him lightly, then turned him around again and started walking them toward the bedroom.  She was opening his shirt buttons from behind as they walked though, presumably to get him ready for bed, given they both knew he wasn't up to more.

When they got to the bedroom, he turned again and she brushed his shirt off his shoulders... and then sucked in a sharp breath.  "God," she breathed a second later, staring at the black bruise that crossed his chest from the seat belt.
 
He looked down at himself and then grunted.  "Think how much worse it would've been without the seat belt."  He gave her a fleeting smile and shrugged, ignoring the little twinge in his neck.

She drew a slow breath and nodded, then leaned in to kiss along his uninjured collar bone, one hand slipping to his side, just above the waist of his jeans.  God, he really did wish he was up to letting this continue.  A moment later, though, she sighed and pulled back to look up at him.  "Pajamas," she reminded him quietly.

"Damn it," he muttered, unoffended when she laughed.  He dragged himself away from her long enough to find pajamas for them both, though he made a mental note to buy her something silky and red as soon as possible.

They changed quietly, and she brushed her teeth with her finger.  By the time he was ready to get into bed, she had pulled back the covers and was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him.

Dave changed directions halfway across the room and went to stand in front of her.  "I can't remember if I thanked you," he murmured, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.  "Having you with me has made all this easier."

She expelled a breath that might have been a laugh.  "You don't need to thank me.  I feel better being here.  It's self-serving."

"Self-serving.  You must like me more than you let on."  He tilted her chin up a little and bent to kiss her, then wished he hadn't, since it made him dizzy.

"I feel better knowing you're not by yourself," she said, and kissed him lightly again.  "Get in bed."

"Hmm."  He went around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, wishing again that he were in good enough shape for vigorous activity.  Still, he couldn't deny it was extremely comforting that Emily was happy to just sleep in his bed wearing his pajamas.  He hadn't forgotten how good it had felt to hold her in his arms.

She turned out the light, then slid in the bed next to him and rolled to face him, reaching her hand out under the covers to stroke his arm lightly.  For a moment, all the sound in the room was the soft brush of her hand against the fabric and her breathing, and then he reached over and pulled her closer, sensing her hesitance to do so in case she hurt him more.

She carefully snuggled up at his side, her touch gentle, and sighed, relaxing.

"You know," Dave murmured after a while, "I really like your style of nursing.  I think they ought to teach this in the wards."

It took a moment, but she laughed, a warm, deep-felt noise that made Dave's chest ache in a good way.  She tilted her head to kiss his jaw.  "Maybe they should.  Except I wouldn't want any other woman looking after you like this."

"I'm just thinking of all the other poor schmucks out there," Dave said, tightening his arms.  It thrilled him that she was jealous, even in jest.  "I definitely want to keep you to myself."

"Mmm," she hummed, her fingers stroking his arm.  She was quiet for a long time, long enough Dave might have thought she was drifting off if her breathing hadn't stayed shallow.  Finally, she whispered, "You really scared me."

"I'm sorry," he said.  "I sure as hell didn't do it on purpose."  He smoothed his palm over her shoulder.  "From what little I recall, I was pretty scared myself."  It was gratifying to know she'd been scared, but he didn't think she'd appreciate his admitting that.

She laughed softly again, then pressed her lips to his chin.  "I would have been mad if you died after fighting with me."

Dave smiled.  "I'd promise never to fight with you again, but I know myself too well.  I'm a cantankerous bastard, so you'll just have to take it for granted how much I care about you, even if I make you shout at me."

"Mmm," she hummed, then pushed up onto her elbow and looked down at him.  He could barely make her out through the dark, her hair falling down against his shoulder, her gaze steady on his.  She lifted a hand and touched his cheek, then kissed him softly.

"I do care about you, Em," he murmured against her lips.  It was a vast understatement--he was head over heels crazy about her, and he knew it--but he thought she'd understand.

"I know," she whispered, letting her hand move through his hair, then kissed him again.  "It's mutual."


Part Two

Comments

[mcgarrygirl78.livejournal.com]

OMG, the sweetness.....the hotness....its almost too much for me to bear. OK, it wasnt just super sexy, and it was VERY sexy, but the banter was perfect. They are so cute, I want to see them fight and make up, joke, laugh, be sexy and cheeky....this story has everything, dare I say its perfect. Yes, it is perfect. Thank you guys so much : )

[severity-softly.livejournal.com]

Awww, thank you so much, dear! (and the AU of this is already in the works! >.>)