A/N written for foxyfeline

WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

why hello and welcome. This fic is for all the JJ/Morgan shippers out there (yes, we do exist) but also for readers who love a bit of tragedy. I lie, i mean lots of tragedy. I fully intend to rip your hearts out, trample them for a while, then feed them to Daenerys Targaryen- if you don't understand that reference then shame on you- leaving you drowning in a puddle of your own tears. You have been warned.

On that note, enjoy

written from JJ POV for now

You can't help but smile as he strokes his fingers up and down your back, making you shiver in a way that only he can. His touch sends a warm tingle across your skin and you sigh contentedly. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll over, feigning irritation at being woken up early. You glance at the clock. 8am. Yes, 8am is early on your first Saturday off in three weeks.

"Derek Morgan. You should know better than to disturb my sleep. Or have you forgotten what happened last time?" You say, your face deadpan. Last time, you'd grabbed the memory foam pillow and smacked him in the face with it. It had been a playful gesture, but it turned out that memory foam moving at a high velocity might as well be a slab of granite.

He chuckles, before stroking his hands up across your stomach to pull you closer, his palms lingering just half a second longer than normal. Maybe you imagined it but you wonder if he knows, you haven't said anything but that's the thing about profilers; you don't need to say anything, to say everything.

Your smile widens, you can't help yourself; you're pregnant, and whilst you're a scared, there's a warm glow inside you that you can't ignore. You let him pull you closer so that your body is flush against his. You want to tell him now, but you're still getting to grips with it in your own mind; you'll tell him tonight- he's taking you out to dinner, to the new Italian restaurant on 17th street.

His hand finds yours, his fingertips brushing over the ring around your third finger. You've only been engaged for two weeks, you haven't even set a date yet, you just know that it feels right and that both of you are happy.

Suddenly he flips you over, so that you're lying back and he's leaning over you. You laugh lightly as he lowers himself down and places a light kiss on your lips. You return the kiss, but it's a little awkward because you're both grinning. He runs his hands over your hips and you tremble beneath his touch.

"You know, we have got the entire day to ourselves. I could… make it up to you." He says with a sly smile, leaning down and grazing his teeth along your collar bone, his hands roaming over your body. You arch your back in pleasure and moan quietly as his fingers skim just below your breast.

You're not usually a morning sex sort of person, but he has a way of setting you alight with arousal. You're just about to acquiesce to his suggestion when you're phone begins to vibrate; rudely informing you that someone wants to contact you. And just like that, the moment is shattered.

He slumps in defeat as you groan and twist out from beneath him to pick up. The caller ID says 'Hotchner'. Morgan sees your face fall and buries his face in a pillow, because you both know what it means. As you hit the answer button, you bid your weekend goodbye.

"Agent Jareau" You answer professionally, not allowing your disappointment to show in your voice. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Morgan reaching for his own cell, probably to cancel tonight's dinner reservations.

"Hi JJ, I know we were meant to have the weekend off but a case has come through. It's a bad one and the clock is already ticking. I need you in as soon as possible."

You wipe a hand across your face. "Of course, Hotch. Give me an hour and I'll be there. I'll phone the others now." You glance across at Morgan and nod. That's all the confirmation he needs. Without a word he drags both of your go-bags from beneath the bed, then takes some clothes from the closet and heads for the shower.

Finishing on the phone with Hotch, you work your way through your speed dial calling the rest of the team. By the time you've completed the rounds, Morgan is finished in the shower and, like the well oil machine that the pair of you have become in the morning, you hop in after him.

You're feeling a little sick but it's nothing unusual, you know it's morning sickness; you've felt like this for the last few of mornings. You've thrown up a couple of times but brushed it off as a stomach bug when Morgan asked. When you and Em were sharing a room on the last case, she knew almost immediately. She was so happy for you, and for Morgan of course.

Once you're showered, dressed and have made yourself presentable, you walk through to the kitchen, where Derek is sat at the table with a cup of coffee and the reheated leftovers of last night's Chinese takeout. He has left the milk and a bowl of dry cereal out on the counter next to another cup of coffee. He knows that you hate soggy cereal.

You don't really feel like eating but your force a few mouthfuls of cereal down. Or at least you start to, but then a waft of Morgan's Chinese leftovers hits you full on. Your nausea flares up and you gag, bringing your hands up to cover your mouth. Without a second's hesitation you dash to the bathroom, your stomach rejecting its meagre contents.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and hit the flush of the toilet. You go to the basin and swill a few mouthfuls of water to wash away the taste. There is a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"JJ, honey, you okay in there?"

You turn the tap off and glance in the mirror. You look a little pale but otherwise okay.

"Yeah, Derek, I'm fine" You reply, opening the door. On the other side is Morgan, his face a picture of concern.

"Are you sure? I mean, you've been sick for days now, don't you think you should get yourself checked out by a doctor or something?" He asks worriedly. You kind of like seeing this more vulnerable side to him, it's so different to the butt-kicking, badass federal agent you work with all day. Not that you don't like the agent side to him of course.

You bite your lip, butterflies in your stomach. You can't help but feel nervous; you're not even married yet and now you're throwing a baby into a mix. Your baby, his baby. The thought alone is enough to make you smile. You were going to tell him tonight, but that's not going to happen anymore; now's as good as ever.

"Derek… I'm not sick. I'm… pregnant." You say. You're frozen waiting for his reaction. You see confusion, then shock, then fear. Your heart is racing wildly and those butterflies are back with a vengeance.

Then a smile breaks across his face. No, not a smile, a downright massive grin that lights up his eyes. When he pulls you into a tight hug he is positively beaming. "Seriously?" He asks, "Because I swear to God if you're messing with me…" He holds you at arm's length and looks you in the eye. But the grin on your face can't lie.

He just grins back at you and lifts you into the air, spinning you both around. "I can't believe it! We're having a baby."

You whoop in delight and Derek freezes. He puts you down, mistaking your exclamation of delight for an outburst of worry or pain. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?" He asks, panic raising his voice by at least an octave. You laugh lightly and wrap your arms around him.

"Of course I'm okay." The warmth in your abdomen is back and only growing as his lips find yours. His tongue begs entrance to your mouth and, when his hand snakes under your shirt to stroke your stomach, you grant it.

The kiss is sweet and intense but it can't last long. This breath-taking detour is going to make both of you late.

He groans a little as you pull away. "Come on, we're going to be late." You say, but neither of you move. His hand is still resting on your stomach.

"I love you so much." He says softly.

You smile. "I love you too" You reply placing your hand over his. You're going to be parents. How is it possible to be this terrified, yet at the same time, this happy and this excited? You have no idea. You throw your arms around his neck and place a chaste kiss on his lips. "But we really have to go."

Half an hour later you are both sat in the round table room with the rest of the team, discussing the upcoming case. It is a local case, Metro PD have asked for the BAU's help because in the last month, three women have been abducted. MPD has run down all available leads and come up with nothing. The first two victims, Kyra Wilkins and Dana Clovette, were killed and their bodies dumped exactly a week after they were taken. The third woman, Tania Moore, was taken last night.

Both Miss Wilkins and Miss Clovette died from a fatal dose of potassium chloride administered directly to the jugular vein. They had ligature marks on their ankles and wrists but otherwise showed no signs of physical abuse. There was no evidence of sexual assault. Both had been fed and given sufficient water to keep them hydrated. There is no obvious motive to the crime.

Victimology is all over the place. Kyra Wilkins was 34 years old and was engaged in a long term relationship with her partner, Stephanie Williams. She had brown hair and green eyes, she was 5'4". Dana Clovette was 29 and single. She was 5'10" with blonde hair and blue eyes. Both were Caucasian. The latest victim, Tania Moore, was African-American and lived with her husband of 10 years, Carlton Moore. She was 5'8".

You go over the case quickly; you can learn more at the precinct and have a better centre of operations to keep track of what you know. You finish up and head out the door to the SUVs. Hotch and Garcia will head to the precinct where Detective Warren is waiting for them. You and Morgan will go to interview Carlton Moore. Reid, Prentiss and Rossi will head to the dumpsites.

As you're leaving, Emily grabs your arm and hangs back a little, waiting until you are out of earshot of the others before speaking. "So you've told him then?" She says it with a knowing smile so really it's more of a question than a statement. You know exactly what she's talking about.

"This morning." You reply, that involuntary smile lighting up your face again, "Wait, how do you know?" You ask.

Em grins back at you, a cheeky glint in her eye. "Because he looks like he could leap over the moon and shit a brick simultaneously."

You can't help but laugh at that, and she laughs with you. Because she has Morgan totally pegged.

A/N well i hope you enjoyed, the first chapter, and yes, I realise it hasn't really lived up to its tragedy genre yet. Trust me, it will. Updates will be somewhat sporadic, so no promises on timescale, though I estimate it will be about 10 chapters long. For anyone who read/is reading my other fic, to live is to choose, I'm still working on that, don't worry, i just have a few details to iron out on that before i start posting the sequel :) Please leave a review, never written a JJ/Morgan fic before...

Oh yeah, and this is written in a world where the FBI fraternisation rules don't exist.