Emily/Derek **

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Title: This Time, It's Different - pagetbrewterswife (AO3)

Summary: She's not sure why she expected a different answer. Sure, the recertification training and the shooting range on Sundays are a more professional answer to how she can make up the last seven months to him.

"And my morning coffee and a neck rub every day."

That answer she should've expected. She did expect it really.

What HE didn't expect was for her to take him up on it.

Rating: Explict 

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She's not that desperate, surely. Not desperate enough to take him up on the suggestion, not desperate enough to actually do what he's jokingly asked for. But then again, Reid hasn't taken too kindly to her return and their relationship is only just now stabilizing.

She doesn't think she can handle Derek being against her too.

She thinks she must be crazy to actually be considering it, but before she can stop herself the words are already out of her mouth.

"One back massage, and that's it. You can take me up on it now or live knowing you missed out on your only chance." Her conditions give them both an out. Maybe he'll see how unsure she is and tell her she doesn't have to do it. Maybe he'll tell her he already has plans and he'll beg for another shot, and she'll turn him down knowing that she'd at least left the option open for a one-time massage.

But instead, he smirks, pulling his bag tighter over his shoulder. "You're on. My place?"

She can't believe he's taken her up on it but she's also not one to back down, so she snaps her mouth shut and nods the affirmative.

Fuck.

That's how she ends up in his bedroom, cautiously standing beside the bed while he tosses his shirt in the direction of the hamper followed by his pants.

"Hey! What the hell do your pants have to go for?"

He shrugs and moves to the center of the bed, the ever-present smirk still on his lips. "What? You don't want me to be comfortable? Isn't that the point of the massage?" He motions to her pajama shorts and the tank top she's sporting, suggested by him following her taking him up on the offer of a sleepover. "You get to be half naked, so do I."

"You suggested I change, not me. And I'm not half naked, all the good bits are covered." She rolls her eyes, waiting for him to situate himself on his belly with his head resting on the back of his hands. "You know I hate you for this, right?"

"Noted, now get to work Princess, my back isn't going to massage itself."

She rolls her eyes again and grabs the lotion from the nightstand, it smells faintly of coconut, and it warms quickly between her palms. She kneels on the bed beside him, hands hovering hesitantly over his back because they're comfortable with one another – have spent many nights passed out together and many nights maybe a little too close on one dance floor or another – but this is different somehow.

It feels loaded, like one move could send their relationship in one of two entirely different directions.

This time, things feel different.

"Any day now." His voice startles her from her thoughts and she rolls her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time since she's been here and lays her hands on his back.

His skin is soft and warm under her, muscles rigid and knots pulling under his skin when she presses the heel of her hand into his lower back. "Jesus, what have you been doing?"

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