A/N: Hey i'll update a lot if I get reviews! Promise. Enjoy.

"Rate me."

Derek Morgan turned in the mirror, hands stilling folding his black tie, to his wife. He raised a single brow at her demand.

"Rate me, one to ten." Arielle restated, flipping her black hair over one bare shoulder and resting her waist on her nearly nonexistent pursed his lips and she stepped closer, her heels bringing her just passed his shoulder. The only sound seemed to be her heart in her ears as his eyes glided down her frame, judging. These were the first words she'd spoken to him in nearly three hours, she'd been mad - as she was on a seemingly regular basis - but she needed his opinion now, this was important.

"Honestly?" He asked lowly, tucking the ends of his crisp white shirt, that contrasted the tie and his caramel skin, into his slacks.

"Yeah." She answered almost breathlessly, realizing it'd been a while since they'd been intimate. Her mind flashed to something she'd read in a magazine about always satisfying your man where there'd be pretty woman, and she thought about it for the briefest of seconds. Suddenly she felt his hand under her chin as he rose her gaze to his.

"You look beautiful."

And just like that she could breathe again. Arielle opened her mouth to say something but he turned away, back to the mirror back to the damned tie. It was moments like this that she knew she loved him far more than he cared for her. She doubted he still loved her, that he could ever love someone completely. Before she knew it, a sigh was leaving her lips and filling the distance between them. Arielle knew she had no right to feel so horrible. Derek was good to her, he looked after her and got her the house she dreamed of and a giant potato sized ring. She was the one that didn't want children, she had no right to want what he couldn't give anyone.

"We're gonna be late," Derek said, breaking her daze. Arielle offered a half-assed smile, taking his hand, his warmth, and all he would give her.

**
Derek could tell something was wrong. Hell, these days, something was eternally wrong. One glace at arielle and he could tell she was disappointed, sad, and he had no fucking idea what he was doing wrong. The car ride was somewhat a hell. It was quiet and filled with her sadness. Her fucking sadness that she would talk about. They didn't talk anymore, about anything important anyway. When he stayed home she would tell him to go to work, when he was at work she'd leave crying voice messages. He felt like a walking dead person, he wanted to be dead. Actually, what he really wanted was to loosen his tie and have a drink. He wanted arielle to stop looking at him with longing he had no idea how to satisfy and he wanted to stop being tired. Of everything.

Luckily the plaza came into sight, and he cursed while searching for a parking space. The chilly air seemed to wake him up a bit as he opened he wife's passenger door, and she gave him another half-assed smile. To be honest, and these days he was painfully so, he was sick of her half-assed smiles. He didn't want them, he wanted her to scream at him and tell him what he was doing so wrong and he wanted her to feel something. He wanted to feel something, too.

The atmosphere inside was loud, but not thick. He saw his team sitting at a table near the dance floor and he practically dragged Arielle's body over. Why couldn't she laugh like the woman in the background? The urge for a drink tugged at him once again as he greeted everyone. JJ was the only one to hug arielle, the only one to be civil actually. None of them liked her, and they didn't bother to hide it. There was several beats of silence, and derek felt so bad. His relationship was like a infection that spread everything it touched, taking all traces of happiness. Rossi broke the silence, clasping derek's shoulder.

"Lynch's got a date." He said, full of merit. Everyone's faces read surprise and derek nearly choked on his spit.

"No. Way." He countered, pulling out a 50 and peering around the large hall for proof. Rossi grabbed it and discreetly pointed over his shoulder. Derek followed his line of sight and sure enough, lynch had his grimy hands around a blond woman who stood taller than him in her heels.

"Who's Lynch?" Airelle wondered quietly, pulling on derek's sleeve like a little girl who wanted candy. Derek shook his head dismissively, never bothering to look at her but still staring. Just then the woman at lynch's side turned, and a small gasp escaped derek. She was stunning. Her black dress hugged her perfectly, so perfectly he felt a stirring in his pants he hadn't felt in a while. Her face was pale, her lips a pink that matched her cheeks. Her smile radiated the room, and the people she spoke to laughed. He is chest contracted with something so alien, he pondered if he was having a heart attack. He wouldn't mind if the last thing he ever saw was the way her blond curls bounced on her shoulders. He would mind if the last thing he saw was her.

How the fuck did Kevin Lynch, the guy who smelled like dirt, land her?

"We should say hello," Derek said before he even knew it, and Aaron's eyes narrowed.

"You almost punched the guy last week, Morgan."

Derek shook his head, he didn't two fucks about Lynch. All he wanted to know was her name, the goddess he was most likely hallucinating and what kind of charity she works with that she goes to galas with bums. He needed to know her name.