Changing the Habit of a Lifetime

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the idea.

This is my entry for the CCOAC New Year Resolution challenge. I picked Derek Morgan with the resolution: To become a one-woman man. I was assigned Emily Prentiss.

Sorry this has taken so long but after the first chapter my muse ran away and hid, even chocolate couldn't tempt it back out; however the story is now complete, but still going through editing. I will warn you now you may not be happy where this ends – but there will be a sequel. I promise.

Lastly I have a dragged a third character in on this – hope you don't mind.

Here goes . . .

. . .

As if the initial pain on the right hand side of her jaw wasn't enough, the blunt force of slamming into the rough brick wall beside her was near enough to make her pass out. Gritting her teeth, Emily ducked in time to avoid another fistful of agony, instead causing the UnSub to break his knuckles on the same wall she had just collided with. If his scream wasn't a sure sign of the fracture then the crack that echoed around the empty building was.

As he recoiled in shock, Emily took her chance, making sure her knee located firmly into his groin. Now he was down she could complete the tasks she had started and arrest the son of a bitch.

Cuffed and mumbling obscenities, the largest of the pair the team had been tracking down knelt, still doubled over, on the cold concrete floor. Emily had to smile, even if it sent a shock of pain along her jaw; what he was experiencing now served him right for what he had done to the victims over the prior three months.

Though, Emily pondered, next time she and Morgan decided they could tackle the criminals before back up arrived she was sure she would make a better assessment of who she was chasing. Rubbing her jaw, she spoke into the communication system.

"I have him Morgan, how you doing?"

Silence.

Shit, Emily hissed to herself. Looking down at the immobilised UnSub she contacted Hotch.

"Hotch, we're in and I have Davis, but Morgan has gone quiet. I have secured Davies in the back office of the first floor. I'm going to find Morgan; what's your ETA?"

"I thought I made it clear you were to wait!" the curt reply came.

Emily cringed, sounded like another dressing down was on the way.

"All respect Hotch, we didn't have the time to wait. I am going to find Morgan, he went after Collins. This could be our only chance to find Dorothy Franks."

Hotch registered the edge of desperation in her voice and the sound of her steps on the hard floor, he knew she was on the move as she spoke. No matter how he felt about what they had done an argument was futile.

"We'll be there in ten, I urge you to hold back and wait."

"I'll keep the Coms open; you'll know what's happening that way," Emily offered back.

Hotch's silence was the only indication of his agreement in the situation.

Emily made her way back towards the point she had last seen Morgan. Moving lightly on the balls of her feet, gun drawn, she cleared each area as she retraced her steps along the dingy walls. The deserted office block definitely lent itself to being a hideout paradise, packed with dark corners and crevices. Reaching the flight of stairs that had been the point they split, Emily tentatively made her way cautiously up to the second floor, stairs always made her feel vulnerable.

Entering the long narrow corridor, she begun to clear offices along the way; the tell tale signs of Morgan proceeding her evident on a couple of the doors' locks. At least she knew she was on the right floor and wouldn't have to go back and start again on the next level.

"We're here," she heard through her earpiece.

"Second floor," she confirmed in a whisper to Hotch's update, her heart beating rapidly as she neared the end of the gloomy passage.

Facing a final battered greying door, Emily pushed it open with her toe, announcing her arrival as she entered.

"FBI . . ."

But before she could complete the sentence she was interrupted.

"It's ok Em, it's me, my radio pack bust," Morgan's deep but familiar sound came from the darkness. "The bastard decided to play games."

"Just tell me you won," she replied.

Morgan was nodding as he moved forward from the shadows, rubbing his right shoulder.

"You okay?" she asked, eying the gapping cut above his right eye.

"Yeah, he got the drop on me, the kid's stronger then he looks."

Derek was now within inches of Emily, and she immediately noticed the look of concern on his face. Lifting her chin with a steady finger his eyes narrowed.

"He did that to you?" he hissed.

"Guess you weren't the only one to have some fun," Emily made a feeble attempt at pulling out of Derek's hold. "Think it will make Hotch go easy on us?"

"No," came the curt answer from the doorway, as Hotch and Rossi entered the room. "Your actions were irresponsible, but here and now is not the time for that debate."

Hotch was making his way over to a dazed and confused looking teenager in the corner; the scowl on his face a clear indication of the hell to come.

Emily and Derek shared a look that spoke volumes, before glancing at Rossi who just shrugged as a smile crept across his lips. Quickly Morgan dropped his hand that still tenderly held Emily's face.

. . .

Emily and Derek stood in front of the cheap MDF desk in the cramped office Hotch had been using during the case. Neither of them bothered to sit, as it wouldn't make the moment any more comfortable.

Hotch continued to complete the paperwork in front of him. He was more than aware of the additional company; after all he had insisted that they join him once he had completed debriefing the team and they had been to the hospital for a check. Both had initially refused, satisfied with the paramedics patching them up at the scene, but he had made it clear that it wasn't an optional extra.

Hotch glanced up and held out a hand, waiting for the paperwork from the hospital to file with his regarding the incident. Catching Derek's eyes, Emily rolled hers, causing Derek to barely contain a snigger. They had both been here before, in fact most times they had been here together, and he kind of guessed they would be again.

Hotch shot them both a glare, declaring silently that he had lost none of his bite from earlier.

"I glad you find something amusing in this Morgan, because I can assure you that now I have completed the additional paperwork you two have jointly created for me, my sense of humour is waning."

Emily literally bit her tongue, desperate to ask when his sense of humour wasn't waning.

Squirming slightly Derek guessed the gist of the thought she was having and turned away slightly, determined not to smile.

"I am running out of ways to explain to you two that you cannot ignore warnings and carry on regardless. I could easily have lost two agents today, yet again."

Morgan decided that Hotch's tone of voice directly matched that of his High School principle, as he was suddenly flooded with memories of being hauled into his office for a 'chat'.

"Sir," Emily spoke up, waking Derek from his thoughts, "we needed to nail these two. They were the only possible way we had of locating Dorothy Franks. We needed them, if we'd let them go she would have died."

Derek's eyebrows rose, there were times he really wondered who had the balls out of the two of them. He sure as hell knew when to keep quiet. It had taken him a while to learn his lesson, but there was definitely a way to approach Hotch.

"The only redeeming factor in all of this is that it led us to her," Hotch snapped at Emily insolence.

All of them knew that the case had not been text book, far from it.

Standing there Derek respected Hotch's protective streak, he could totally relate to that. He had felt the same when he had seen Emily's bruised and cut face, however he also empathised with her relentless drive; and when the adrenaline wore off he knew they would be there for each other.

If they both survived their chat with Hotch, of course.