Forever After, for mingsmommy, Rossi/Prentiss, PG13

Dec 01, 2010 17:13

Title: Forever After
Author: microgirl8225
Recipient: mingsmommy
Pairing: David Rossi/Emily Prentiss
Rating: FRT/PG-13 for language
WC: 6,615
Summary/prompt: Emily is pregnant and Dave wants to get married; Emily is not so sure.
Author's Note: If there's anything I am grateful for in the writing process, it is having a great, uber-fantastic beta. I could not have done this without her. Thank you for being awesome you.



"Hi, Honey! I'm home!" Dave sang out as he walked through the front door of his house.

His greeting wasn't met with an immediate response even though he'd seen Emily's car parked in the garage when he pulled up. But as he hung his jacket in the closet, Mudgie trotted over to him. After rubbing the Lab's head, he followed the heavenly aroma of simmering tomato sauce and baking garlic bread into the kitchen. Pushing the swinging door, he found Emily standing at the counter, with her back to him.

Walking toward her, he smiled. "Hey, Em."

She must have been engrossed in cutting vegetables for the salad because she jumped, turning to him with a large knife in her hand.

Dave held his hands up in surrender. "It's just me!" Barely suppressing a smirk, he leaned against the opposite counter. "A little jumpy today?"

She sighed harshly, her shoulders sagging with relief. "You would be too when you think you're alone and someone just barges in."

Holding his tongue, he simply leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He congratulated himself for his word choice. It was one thing to point out that he actually had announced his arrival when he walked in, but she would use his head as a centerpiece if he accused her of being scared.

Placing his arm around her, Dave gently squeezed her shoulder. The muscles tightened under his touch. "How was your day?"

"Fine," she answered shortly, going back to the task of slicing cucumbers.

Dave frowned at her tone, but decided to let that go too. "How did your consult with the Sexual Assault unit go? Did you guys finish early?"

Right after he asked the question, Emily dropped the knife and it clattered to the floor. She quickly bent over to pick it up, placing it on the counter. Dave couldn't help but notice her hands shook as she steadied herself on the counter.

Wiping her hands on her dark green apron, she quickly turned to the stove, stirring the sauce. "It went fine. The meeting didn't take as long as I thought so I thought I'd take an early day." Emily fixed her gaze on the black pot, stirring the spoon quickly.

"Hey." Gently, he turned her to face him. "Are you okay?"

She'd been looking more tired lately, but now he could clearly see her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them. It looked as if she hadn't been getting enough sleep, but he knew that wasn't true. In the last two weeks, he practically had to drag her out of bed in the morning.

Her defensive posture loosened slightly. "Yeah I'm okay. It's just…it's been a…long day." Clearing her throat, she tried to smile, but it faltered.

"How about I finish dinner and you can go sit down?"

Turning back to the sauce, she shook her head. "No. You've made dinner every night this past week. Besides, I already laid down when I got home." She looked back at him, her expression more earnest. "Really. You go relax and I'll finish dinner."

Nodding, he watched her for a moment before grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and heading to the living room. He knew if he pushed her more it would just start a fight. But that didn't stop Dave from worrying about her.

For Emily, spaghetti was a comfort food. She often asked Dave to make it when they came back from certain cases. However, when she went to great efforts to cook, like making sauce from scratch (evidenced by tomato paste cans on the counter) and hauling out his old pasta press to make noodles, it meant she was stressed. Cooking gave her the opportunity to distract herself.

Blinking, he shook himself from his thoughts. When they first started seeing each other, he made a pact with Emily not to profile each other. Still…he couldn't ignore the signs that something was bothering her. Maybe it was the case she'd consulted on earlier. Or perhaps it was her preparation for testifying in the Joe Belser case. Plopping down on the couch, he leaned his head back, debating his options. If he asked her too many questions, she'd shut down on him, possibly go back to her condo. But if he did nothing, Emily would continue to wind herself tighter and tighter, possibly making herself sick from stress.

Dave didn't want to see Emily inadvertently hurt herself. Blowing out a breath, he decided to probe…but only a little. Hopefully after some food and a little wine, she'd feel better.

Twenty minutes later Emily came into the living room to tell him dinner was ready. He went to get dishes, but she'd already set the table. Noticing she hadn't set any wine glasses, he went to the cupboard to pull out two and then pulled a bottle of Merlot from the wine cabinet.

Usually Emily sat perpendicular to him, but tonight she sat on the opposite end of the table. Now she was putting physical distance between them, letting him know whatever was on her mind was really bothering her. Profiling rules be damned, Dave needed to know what consumed her thoughts right now.

"Wow," he said as he sat down, looking at the food on the table. "This looks fantastic."

"Thank you," she beamed.

"So," he began casually as he served himself a bowl of salad. "Any luck in chipping away at the mountain of paperwork today?"

Shrugging, Emily speared a cherry tomato on her fork. "Some. I actually spent most of the morning reviewing my notes for the Joe Belser case. I have to fly out to Nashville in two weeks to testify."

Okay, she didn't tighten her grip on the fork or avert her gaze; all good signs. It wasn't the Belser case bothering her so he forged on. "Yeah, and it's tough to get through any of the paperwork when other departments call for consults." He plucked a piece of garlic bread from the sliced loaf. "How is Peter doing?" he asked, referring to the Sexual Assaults unit's senior agent.

She started moving around the vegetables in her bowl without eating anything. "He's okay," she replied quietly.

Noticing the change in her behavior, Dave went on, this time with a grin. "And do I need to have a talk with Mike or has he stopped following you around like a puppy dog?" Mike, a rookie agent from the other unit, had developed a crush on Emily. The younger man was the one to always call her for a consult and sometimes showed up at her desk to try to her ask her out for drinks.

"No...um, he didn't say much…this time." Her posture shrank as she slouched down, her gaze fixed on the table.

Now Dave felt pretty confident as to the source of the problem. Just as he was about to ask about the case, she interrupted his thoughts. "Dave, I have something to tell you."

Surprised, he set down his fork, giving her his full attention.

"I, um, I…actually didn't have a consult today." She visibly swallowed. "I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon."

Immediately, his brow furrowed with concern. "What happened?"

She rubbed her palms on her thighs. "Well, I-I'd been feeling really exhausted and…nauseated lately. And then I…" she trailed off, biting her lip. "I-I'd…I missed two-" Stopping, she immediately jumped to her next thought. "So I went to the doctor and he took some blood and told me what was wrong."

The blood drained out of his head and Dave's heart had dropped to the vicinity of his feet. "What did he say?"

"I'm pregnant."

Everything else faded out, and the only sound he could only hear the sound of his increasing breathing. "What-what did you say?"

"I'm pregnant," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her normally pale skin seemed almost white, in complete contrast to her dark hair.

For the first time in fifty-four years, David Rossi had actually been knocked speechless. He couldn't think of a damn thing to say to something that impacted his life in a huge way. All he could do was stare into his bowl of salad.

"I'm so sorry, Dave." Her quiet voice caused him to look up. "I know we never talked about kids, but I can't..." She paused, swallowing. "I can't…I don't want to give this child up." Blinking, tears slipped down her cheeks. A few moments of tense silence went by before she finally added, "I want this baby.

Emily closed her eyes tightly as if she didn't want to see his face. "I understand if you don't. I don't want to force you into something you don't want to do. And I won't tell anyone you're the father." Her voice cracked with more tears. "I can manage this on my own."

His heart ached at her words, but his thoughts moved a thousand miles a minute.

Pregnant, Emily's pregnant.

She's having a baby.

A baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby.

I'm too old to be a father.

There is no way in hell I can do this.

A baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby, a baby.

Through the maelstrom of colliding thoughts, his mind finally focused on one thing: a baby; a combination of himself and Emily. Hopefully the kid looked like her. He didn't want to pass on his sausage-like fingers or his bulldog cheeks. Dave imagined a little boy with her big brown eyes or a girl with her bright, wide smile.

The thought surprised the hell out of him, mainly because it didn't freak him out. Slowly, the feeling of a potential heart attack faded. The sound of the refrigerator humming and the ticking of the kitchen clock slowly infiltrated his consciousness. A pleasant warmth trickled through his veins. Images of teaching a son how to ride a bike and taking a daughter to a baseball game filled his brain. It didn't make Dave less terrified; there'd certainly be a lot of work in front of them. But he would have a son or a daughter. They would have a son or daughter.

Standing up, he started to the other side of the table. The last bit of color left Emily's face as she shakily got her feet. "Dave, I'm sorry. Can-can we at least talk about what we should do?" She started taking in short breaths, as if it were difficult to breathe. "Please say something."

But he didn't; he simply wrapped her up in his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. She relaxed her muscles a bit, but he still felt dampness on his shirt from her tears.

"Em." His voice was raspy. Pulling back, he smoothed the hair from her face. "I think this…I can't believe…This is…"

He saw fear reflected in her eyes. "Is this okay?" she asked tentatively, and he knew everything hinged on his answer.

"Yeah." Surprisingly, he found that he actually meant it. "Yeah this is okay." Huffing slightly, he scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, I'll admit I'm pretty fucking terrified, but in a good way."

"You're terrified??" Emily barked a laugh. "I spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out how I was going to tell you and going over the thousands of scenarios and how you would react. I've been ready to crawl out of my skin since I left the doctor's office."

Dave chuckled. "Yeah, it's safe to say you've got me beat there."

His insides calmed at seeing her smile again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his bearded chin. "So?"

"So…" Almost on its own accord, Dave brought his hand to rest over her belly. "We're having a baby."

********

The next four months became a whirlwind of change for Dave and Emily. Dave watched in quiet awe as Emily's body changed for their baby. The nausea and fatigue slowed Emily down considerably for the first two months, but finally started to taper in month three. Her angular joints softened with gradual weight gain. And he loved putting his hands on her stomach, feeling the gentle roundness.

"You know, it's still going to be another month before we we'll feel the peanut move," she told him one morning when he cupped her belly yet again.

"Hey, you and the peanut are an exclusive team in this for a while. You'll get to feel it kicking a field goal first. I just want in on the action as soon as I can."

She laughed, but Dave saw her eyes soften in the mirror.

As for himself, Dave went through great lengths to rearrange his schedule. They'd only told Hotch right away for work purposes, but Dave made it clear he would not be missing any doctor's appointments. The same thing went for his book editor. He'd also been reading books on pregnancy and fatherhood. For the first time, he was thankful for the internet as he ordered books on being an older father without having to face a salesperson.

Now it was on to more pressing matters like making sure Emily and the peanut would be covered if anything, God forbid, happened to him. He needed to add them as beneficiaries to his life insurance policies. Also, he had to start looking into having Emily's medical power of attorney if anything should happen to her when she gave birth.

When he arrived home, he found her coat hanging in the closet. Emily had beaten him back to his house thanks to a last minute phone conference he had with a DA from North Carolina. After taking off his shoes, he headed to the living room where he found Emily and Mudgie. Emily lay on the couch while Mudgie was sprawled out on the floor, snoring peacefully.

Her laptop was carefully balanced on the gentle swell of her stomach. She'd changed out of her work clothes into a pair of jeans and one of his Mets shirts he was sure he'd left at her apartment. When he came into the room, she greeted him brightly. "Hi!"

"Hey." Bending over, he kissed the top of her head. "How are you and the peanut?"

"I'm fine, but the peanut is growing into its own plantation. It's already becoming difficult to keep the computer on my lap."

Dave laughed. "The peanut hasn't even made their appearance and Mommy already wants to have a serious talk."

"The peanut needs to understand I need my World of Warcraft time," she said seriously.

"You know, you can go to my office and use my computer," he suggested. "You could sit in the big leather chair, enjoy a bigger monitor, and you wouldn't have to balance the computer on your stomach."

"Oh," she blinked. "Well, I didn't want to move around any of your papers and I know how you don't like drinks near your computer. And I need the stay hydrated if I want to keep up with Garcia on quests," she finished with a grin.

"Okay." Gently, he squeezed her shoulder. "Well, I won't keep you from your quest. I've got a little work to do; do you mind if we order in?"

"Sounds good." Her eyes remained concentrated on the screen as she constantly tapped the mouse pad.

He started upstairs. "Any requests?"

"Chinese food from Heaven Dragon." Just as he made it to the first landing, Emily added. "And can you order some food from Roberto's too? I want to be able to dip my egg rolls in guacamole."

Stopping briefly, Dave smile indulgently. "You got it."

Sitting down in his home office, he turned on the desktop. As he waited for the computer to boot up, he briefly contemplated his conversation Emily. Yes, he was finicky about the order of his house, but it bothered him that Emily still acted uncomfortable there. She always appeared somewhat cautious, as if she were afraid to be herself in his home. Dave knew that was something they needed to discuss, especially when it was time for her to move in.

He spent the next hour and a half talking on the phone with his lawyer, discussing changing his life insurance policies and asking questions about his legal role in the peanut's life as he and Emily weren't married. Sure it was after work hours, but for the money Dave paid in retainer fees, the lawyer could sure as hell take the time to talk to him.

Just as he hung up, he heard Emily call upstairs the food had arrived. Dave came into the dining room to find the table set.

"What, we can't stand over the sink with plastic forks in hand," he joked as he sat down.

"I don't mind having take-out, but we eat out of boxes all the time on the road. We can be civilized at home."

After loading their plates, the two dug into their meal. Dave smiled discreetly as Emily filled her plate completely. Before pregnancy, Emily sometimes forgot to eat, especially when working on case. Now she often reminded everyone when it was time to eat.

She swallowed a piece of crab cheese wonton slathered in guacamole before asking, "Is there a game on tonight?" She had, of course, been referring to the Chicago Cubs. He paid extra to get the MLB network to keep up with his beloved team.

"Yeah," he nodded. "It started about half an hour ago."

"I can move to the basement if you want to watch the game after dinner," she offered.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just go to the bedroom." Then he smirked. "Did you know I didn't like watching the Cubs games when I was a kid?"

Mouth hanging open, Emily stopped with the fork halfway to her mouth. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, it's true. We lived in Chicago until I was ten, and my dad took me to Wrigley Field a few times." Wiping his mouth, Dave put his napkin in his lap. "Well, the Cubs lost every game we went to. And then when I watched games at home with my dad, the Cubs lost those games too.

Dave snorted, shaking his head, "Then my older brother, Nick, told me it was my fault the Cubs lost because I was watching the games. So after that I refused to go to games and left the room when my dad turned on the TV."

Emily started to laugh, and laughed even harder at Dave's narrowed eyes. "I'm glad you find this so amusing."

"I'm sorry," she continued to chuckle.

"No you're not."

"Okay, you're right I'm not. But I can just see you as a skinny eight-year-old running to your bedroom screaming when the Cubs game on."

"I never ran away screaming," Dave's hand fell to the table. "I quietly went to my room to play with my dinosaurs."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Suuuure."

Dishing some sesame chicken on his plate, Dave then reached for the white rice. "Well, I am going to make sure the peanut doesn't have the same traumatic experience with baseball."

"So the peanut will be raised to be a Cubs fan?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if the answer to the question would actually be "no." "Now you're kidding right?"

"I knew you wouldn't have it any other way." She bit into an egg roll. "I just hope they win for you two."

"Me too."

About twenty minutes later, they finished up with little leftovers. As Dave stood up, Emily took his dishes away from him. "I'll do the dishes and you go watch your game. And just think, in a few months, you can have the peanut, popcorn and crackerjacks when you watch the Cubbies," she winked.

He grinned widely, warmth filling his body. Yes, he had been terrified, and still felt terrified, but now he actually looked forward to meeting his son or daughter. He couldn't wait to snuggle on the couch with the little one, watching a baseball game. And then in a few years, actually take the kiddo to a game, buying souvenirs and trying to catch fly balls in the stands.

It was all the more reason he needed to make sure he had a good legal standing in Emily and the peanut's life. These two were the most important people to him, and he couldn't bear the thought that if something happened and he didn't have the power to make any decisions. He wanted, more than anything, to spend the rest of his life with Emily and their child.

Coming up behind her, Dave put his hands on the growing bump of their peanut, their child. He couldn't see her face, but he could feel her smile. His heart pounded hard and fast in his chest, and he felt certain his pulse rate was dangerously high. Despite his best efforts, Dave couldn't quite control the slight tremble in his hands.

"You know," he murmured against the soft skin of her ear. "I think that maybe…" Dave trailed off, gathering his courage. "That maybe…maybe we should get married."

Her hands stilled in the sudsy water. "What…what…" She stopped, and he heard her swallow. "Are you…are you asking me to marry you?"

He tightened his arms around her. "I've been thinking about this for a while and I really want our baby to have my name."

This time her back muscles tightened significantly. "What?" she asked in disbelief.

"I just want everything to be nice and legal." He rubbed a hand down her arm. "That way you and the peanut are taken care of."

Pulling her hands out of the sink, Emily began to very carefully, very deliberately to dry her hands. "So this isn't a marriage proposal; this is just to make sure your child is taken care of. Your way."

He blinked in confusion. "Well, no. I mean, I was on the phone with my lawyer and he was saying it would be easier to put you and the kiddo on my life insurance policy if we married. And we'd be able to bypass all the paperwork to have me changed to your medical guardian." He stepped closer to her. "Think about it. The wedding doesn't have to be anything big. We could do it in the next couple of weeks, and then get you moved into the house."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He shrugged as if the answer was obvious. "I figured you could move in here. My house is bigger and better suited for raising our child."

She stared at him like he was Reid going off on one of his Halloween ramblings. Finally she shook her head, tossing the towel on the stove. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

"What?"

"Actually, no," she said as if she didn't hear him. "It's not unbelievable. It's you. You want everything taken care of your way and to hell what any one else wants."

His arm fell to his side. "Emily, it's not like that."

"Yes it is," she shot back angrily. "You're making family sound like a business deal!"

Now he started to feel his blood pressure rise. True, his track record with marriage hadn't been great, but none of his ex-wives freaked out when he proposed. "Jesus, I'm not talking about a business proposal. I want to marry you."

"No, you want to do the right thing," she sneered.

"Do…the right thing?" Dave sputtered. "This is not about that. I just thought we could spend our lives together." Shaking his head, he threw up his hands in exasperation. "I thought you might be happy about that."

She chuckled darkly. "No, Dave. I would be happy if you had discussed any of this with me first instead of calling your lawyer. I would be happy if you didn't assume you could push me into this."

He felt his blood pressure rise several notches. How the hell did such a nice moment get shot to shit? All he did was propose to her; where did it go completely wrong? "Oh for crissakes, I'm not pushing you into anything." His voice grew slightly louder. "It was a simple marriage proposal. You don't need to freak out."

"Freak out?" Emily's voice came out shrill and for a moment Dave cringed because the sound reminded him of his third ex-wife. Then she balled her fists, and took a slow, deep breath. Releasing her fingers, she just stared at him. "You don't get it do you?"

"Apparently not!"

Throwing up her hands, she brushed passed him. "Fine."

Turning quickly, he watched as she grabbed her coat from the hall closet. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving." Emily tied her scarf around her neck. "Because this," she gestured between them, "will never work if you think you can do the thinking for both of us."

He didn't do anything as the door closed after her. This was also not going to work if she decided to leave after an argument and he'd be damned if she thought he was going to apologize.

*********

Four days later Dave wanted to apologize; he just didn't know how. Deep down he knew the proposal wasn't just about the house or the medical insurance or taking care of the peanut. It was about marrying, really marrying Emily. He wanted to be a father, but he also wanted to be her husband.

Unfortunately though, she didn't seem to want any of it. Emily hadn't spoken to him outside of work, let alone come to his house. By the fourth night, he couldn't take being alone in the bed. He got up early the morning of day five to place an order with a local flower shop. The daises were delivered to the office by mid-afternoon, and he'd been getting another cup of coffee when Emily received them. Looking up from the card, she stared at him. For a moment, her expression softened, but then she put the card in her drawer and went back to work.

On their seventh morning apart, he went to give her a report from one of their recent cases, but she wasn't at her desk. He found J.J., who told him Emily had rushed to the ladies room with a bout of lingering morning sickness. He went looking for her, but when he didn't see her come out of the bathroom, Dave headed outside; he knew fresh air made Emily feel better.

He found her on one of the benches near the side of the building, taking slow, deep breaths. "You okay?"

She sighed heavily. "I know pregnancy is supposed to be this beautiful, wonderful thing, but throwing up my breakfast just plain sucks."

"Anything I can do?"

Groaning, she rubbed her stomach. "Tell the peanut to stop wreaking havoc on my hormones."

"Unfortunately I can't do that." Tentatively, he sat down next to her, but not too close. It was everything he could do not to reach out and take her hand. "But I can sing you ‘Soft Kitty.'"

That at least earned him a snort.

On the tenth afternoon, he noticed Emily furiously digging around her purse. He made his way down the ramp, carefully approaching her.

"Is everything okay?" he quietly asked.

She glanced up from her task, and it took her a second to respond. "I'm trying to find some change so I can get something from the vending machine. I forgot my damn lunch and I don't have time to run and get something before my meeting with Strauss."

"I can get you something, if you want," he offered gently.

She waved her hand negligently. "Oh no you don't have to do that."

Shrugging, he stuffed his hands into his pocket. "It's really no problem. I can stop by Booeymonger and get you a grilled chicken salad with fresh spinach and one of their fruit sides." He paused. "And some cheesecake brownies."

She didn't quite meet his eyes for a few moments. "That…uh, that would be okay…I guess. As long as you don't mind."

"Of course not." His keys were already in his pocket so he headed to the elevator. But he only got a couple of steps before he heard Emily say his name.

He turned back. "Yeah?"

Licking her lips nervously, she finally worked her mouth open. "Could you…um, maybe…"

"Get some ranch dressing for dipping your fruit? Of course."

********

That night, Dave sat in his black leather recliner with a glass of scotch sitting on the table beside him, rubbing his temples. He and Emily still hadn't really talked and now he started to feel more panicked. The weight of his fuck-up started to hit him. He now considered just showing up on her doorstep with chocolates and a puppy and groveling until she took him back.

Well, she would probably make him grovel for a while before she forgave him, he might as well eat dinner. He needed his strength for what would probably be a long night. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number to Pino's for a pizza. It was instinct when he ordered a large pepperoni and sausage with breadsticks, a standard order for him and Emily.

About twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Gathering his money, he went to open the front door. Dave expected a pizza, but instead found Emily on his doorstep.

"Hey," he greeted, obviously surprised. "Come on in." Stepping aside, he let her through the door.

"Thank you," she told him before he led her into the living room.

He rubbed the back of his head, not knowing what to say. "So…uh…what brings you by?"

"I wanted to talk. As much as I would love to be mad at you, it's not just us anymore." She put her hands on her bump.

"You're right," he blurted. "I'm sorry."

She stared at him before laughing.

He blinked. "What's so funny?"

"I just had a moment of complete disbelief," she grinned. "You just admitted someone other than you was right and that you were sorry. I thought the sky would fall before that would ever happen."

Narrowing his eyes, he mocked frowned at her. "Har, har." Then he sobered, his tone very serious. "I am very sorry, Emily."

"I know you are." The corner of her mouth rose again. "I kinda figured when you started following me around like a puppy that was your way saying sorry."

"Ruff!"

Emily laughed a wonderful sweet sound he'd done without for almost two weeks.

Gesturing to the couch, Dave sat down beside her. And this time she allowed their thighs touched. "I'm sorry for everything. I didn't mean to try to push you into anything. I just…" He stopped trying to gather his next words. "I wanted to take care of you and the peanut. Not that you can't do it yourself!" he quickly interjected. "But I want…I don't want you two to-"

Gently, Emily put her hand over his mouth. "David, it's okay. I get it." She shrugged. "You wanted to make sure our child and I were taken care of, I get that. And I think that's very, very good of you. But I really wish you had discussed the whole marriage thing with me first."

His hand hesitated for a second before he covered her fingers. "I really do want to marry you, Em."

Taking in a deep breath, she looked at him with those big brown eyes. "I don't want you to marry me so I'll be the beneficiary to your life insurance policy. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to inherit your fortune." She nudged him in the ribs. "But I don't want to be your wife because you feel like it's the right thing to do."

She stared at their hands on her lap for a long moment before she spoke again. "My parents got married simply because my mom was pregnant with me. My dad was a translator with the Embassy, and he thought it was the proper thing to do with my mom being an ambassador and all." Emily then swallowed heavily. "They were never really happy with each other. Sure they were polite in public and smiley for family portraits, but they never spoke to each other at home.

"I don't…I don't want that for us. I want all the good stuff with it. When you ask me to marry you, I want it to be because you can't imagine your life with me."

He nodded, understanding what she was getting at. "So what do we do now?"

"First it's my turn to apologize to you. I'm sorry I yelled at you and walked out," she said sincerely.

He smiled crookedly at her. "And here I thought the sky would fall before you apologized for your behavior." His words were met with a swift pillow to the face.

After tucking the pillow back behind her as if nothing happened, Emily continued, "Then we have a real, grown-up the discussion about your ideas over pizza."

The dread that had sat in Dave's stomach for the last several days finally eased, and he felt his shoulders relax. "We can do that."

********

They'd been up late talking that night and up even later making up. But the two of them had finally come to an agreement. Emily had agreed to let Dave put her and their child on his life insurance policy and have him make any emergency medical decisions during the delivery. And he in turn would go through the extra legal paperwork and communicate better with her.

And that last part of the compromise they did…to the point of driving Emily to seriously consider checking herself into an institution. It seemed that once Dave started talking, he couldn't stop. He decided he needed to share every thought he had about the peanut, from how to decorate the nursery to picking out a freaking pair of tiny socks.

"I'm so sorry," Emily apologized to her belly one morning while Dave was in the shower. "Between us being your parents, you are probably going to need lots of therapy."

About two months later, Emily still reveled in joy in feeling the peanut move and kick inside of her. Plus there was the extra bonus of freaking Reid out when she tried to get him to touch her stomach. What she didn't revel in was the aching, swelling feet and sore back, especially when she had all day presentations at the academy.

"Oh, thank God," she groaned as she collapsed on Dave's couch. "I never want to stand again. I'm going to do my job lying down from now on."

"That sounds promising," Dave grinned, handing her a cup of hot chocolate loaded with whipped cream. He sat down next to her, propping her feet in his lap. Taking off her shoes, he started to work on arches of her feet.

This time she let out a long groan, throwing her head back. "That feels amazing. Don't stop."

"I always love hearing those words from you."

She rolled her eyes at his smug smile. "Less chat, more rubbing." Before he could say anything she shot him down with, "Shut up."

Dave was smart enough not to speak, but he did have that annoying, cute little smirk on his face. A few minutes later, she fully sank into the cushions. "So how was your day?"

He shrugged. "It was okay. I was on the phone all day."

"Yeah, what's going on with that? You were cooped up in your home office all day Saturday and Morgan said you popped out only once today."

His movements slowed down. "Actually there's something I need to talk to you about."

Closing her eyes, Emily moaned, "Noooo! Not another serious talk."

"You said I barely communicated!"

"Now you're communicating just a little too much."

"This is important!"

Her eyes narrowed. "The last time you said you had something important to talk about, you wanted to discuss the color of baby shoes to buy. This better be more important than shoes or I will kill you."

"It is, I promise. This is much bigger than shoes." At her doubtful expression, he added, "Would I lie to a woman who packs a nine millimeter? There's something I need to show you." With that, he got up to go get his briefcase.

When he returned, Dave opened it to hand her a stack a papers. It took her a moment to process what she'd been looking at, but when it did, her heart started to pound against her chest and she felt incredibly nauseated.

She finally looked up from the realty papers. "You-you're moving?"

"No, I mean yes." He took a deep breath. "I mean, it was just something I was looking into."

Sitting down, he turned to her to give his full attention. "I called a realtor to just get estimates on my house because I thought I…we could sell it and get a place together. If you want to, of course.

"We've been stuck in the discussion of my place versus yours so I thought another option would be to sell my house and us to buy a house together." He handed her some brochures. "I've been looking into some neighborhoods and there are some really great places in Georgetown and Alexandria that are near good schools."

Opening the brochures, she was bombarded with pictures of houses, schools, and smiling families. "So you would just sell your house?" she asked dumbly.

He nodded. "Yeah, and you could sublet your condo or keep it if you want. A lot of these are four and a half bedroom homes. We'd have our room, the baby's room, and a guest room. I could take the half room and you could have the full room for an office or whatever you wanted."

She continued to stare blankly at the papers. Emily could hardly process the fact that Dave wanted to sell his house. He'd dug his heels in for a while now, wanting her to move in with him. Now, he was willing to give up the comfort of his home, the house that he'd had for so long, to live in a place that would be their home.

Carefully, she set the papers on the coffee table and held out her hands for him to help her sit up. Once she was upright, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight. "You are so amazing."

"So is that a yes?" His tentative voice shook with emotion and she could feel his hands trembling against her back.

Pulling away, Emily smiled up at him. "It's a yes." Then her mouth found his and she knew she was the happiest woman in the world. After a long moment, she pulled away. Nuzzling against his ear, she whispered, "And when you have a ring, the answer to that question will be yes, too."

*********

Later that night, Dave lay awake staring at the ceiling with Emily curled into his side. Her head rested on his shoulder, her dark hair splayed everywhere. Her arm rested possessively around his chest. And when he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she sighed and rubbed her cheek against his skin.

He knew he was the luckiest man in the world. His heart was so full, there were just no words to express it. So he pulled her close and settled on hand on her swollen belly. This was his family. This was his home.

This was his forever after.

pairing: rossi/prentiss, rating: pg/pg-13/frt, fic, category: het

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