Hell's Book of Random One-shots

Like A Hole in the Head - Derek Morgan - Request

My day had started out pretty well.

I'd managed to get up without feeling like I needed another year's worth of sleep, I had time for a decent breakfast that didn't involve either wolfing it down and not missing the most important meal of the day was welcomingly foreign.

I'd gotten to work early, the walk pleasant in weather that was perfectly balanced with a sun that heated the skin but a breeze to stop from overheating.

Too bad I knew that soon I'd be face to face with my nightmare of a co-worker, unless by some luck he would call in sick and give me a day of peace.

Unfortunately I wasn't that lucky and he was sat at his desk, laughing at something Reid had said, his head thrown back with a grin on that smug face of his.

I couldn't place when or why it had started but since at least day three of me joining the BAU, I had a growing rivalry with Morgan that only seem to intensify when we were doing desk work.

Out on the field we made a great team but there was something about being stuck in the bullpen that filled us with some strange loathing towards one another.

It was a stark contract that I couldn't decipher, even with my profiling expertise.

The details being fuzzy made it even more frustrating, if I could pinpoint what had started our bickering and need to outdo one another then maybe I could correct it and make amends.

The only thing I could remember was a point during my third week where we had butted heads over details about a suspect, we both turned out to be wrong but that didn't stop him from trying to put his point across in contradiction to mine.

From that day on, we'd had this bickering tension between us that I hoped would dissipate at some point because it was, quite frankly, getting tiring.

Maybe one day I would end up swallowing my pride and apologising for something I was sure couldn't have been a mere disagreement we were both wrong about.

Until that time came, we would continue making snide remarks to one another as the rest of the team looked on with weary looks and tired sighs.

"You know," Prentiss started in that placating tone she would use so often, "if you two would just talk about your obvious pent up feelings then things would go a lot smoother."

I looked up from the paperwork strewn across my desk, my attempted look of bewilderment not feeling entirely convincing.

"What pent up feelings? The only thing I feel about Morgan is annoyance and a need to wipe that arrogant grin off his face."

She rolled her eyes, though her smile gave away her amusement.

"For two profilers, you're pretty bad at picking up on the clues."

"There are no clues, Emily, we just don't get along unless we're hunting unsub ass."

Prentiss grinned like the Cheshire cat, her expression full of suggestions that made my stomach flip a little.

"So you're a thrill seeker?"

"I didn't say that."

"You're not saying a lot, but you don't have to to give it away."

I narrowed my eyes at her then turned back to the sheets in front of me, choosing to willingly ignore all the implications she was giving and to focus on working. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was right.

Full on denial, that was the best route to take until this stupid love-hate crush disappeared.

The adrenaline rush from chasing down suspects wouldn't compare to other remedies but it would have to do for the time being, which made me feel conflicted for both wanting a case to come up while also not wanting others to get hurt and much, much worse.

"Hey, look who managed to drag themselves in early."

I winced, my grip tightening on the pen I was holding.

Looking up, I see Morgan stood beside my desk with his big, cheesy grin that made my stomach flutter like a schoolgirl's.

With a sigh, I looked back at my work and shifted in my seat, trying to make my shoulders look more relaxes than they felt.

"It would seem I did, I happened to have a good morning."

"Great."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed him nodding slowly but not making any indication that he was going to leave now that the conversation had nowhere to go.

Raising my eyebrow, I looked back up at him.

"Was there something you needed?"

"Yes, actually."

"Okay," I said warily, "what is it?"

He stalled again, taking a glance around the bullpen as if that had the answer I was looking before he finally turned back to me with a serious look.

"We need to discuss us."

"Us?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Hm, no, I don't think I do."

He sighed, rolling his eyes a little while crossing this ridiculously muscular arms.

"Can you stop being difficult for once?"

I went to argue with him, to make a claim that I wasn't being difficult before realising that I was about to do just that and thus ended up letting my mouth flounder like an undignified fish as opposed to saying anything or simply closing it.

"Okay," I conceded while pushing my chair back and standing up, "but we'll discuss it elsewhere."

Snatching up my mug from its resting place on the corner of my desk, I turned away from the papers and walked to the breakroom, knowing that I'd need a nice warm beverage to get through this.

Morgan was hot on my heels, the both of us ignoring the looks the rest of the team were giving one another.

Once we reached the small kitchen area, Morgan closed the door behind him as I kicked up the coffee pot and then faced him, leaning back against the countertop with my arms crossed.

"Let's talk then."

"Okay, so I know I've been bit of a dick," he started out.

"As have I," I quickly agreed with a nod.

"True, we both have, but I think it's time we called a truce and restart this entire relationship."

"Directly from the beginning? Introductions and all?" I laughed softly.

"Maybe not that far back, but just far back enough that I can invite you out to dinner? Show you that I'm an awesome guy when I work my charm."

"Not much of a charm if you're still single."

"Hey, we said we were starting on a new foot."

"Sorry," I smiled, my stomach fluttering at his own sparkling grin.

"It's cool, but back to the point, how about dinner this Friday?"

"I can do you one better."

I turned back to the coffee machine, reaching into the spare cup cupboard that was placed just a little too high above my head.

"How about I make you coffee?"