10a/n: Was itching to write, found the following prompt on an old CM forum, and this little oneshot was born: "a prompt focused on a team member's pet, like Sergio or Clooney - it could be about how the agent got it or how they got their name, etc..."
I took the above prompt and came up with a short little ditty on how Emily got Sergio. Turns out, getting a cat was Morgan's idea.
"You know…I'm not so sure about this, Morgan," Emily muttered, arms crossed protectively across her chest.
"Would you relax?" Morgan quipped. "You look like you're being sent to the principal's office."
He gestured to the rows of cages in front of them, each holding a different cat waiting for adoption. "They're just cats."
"But I've never liked cats," she tried again with a frown. "I should never have let you talk me into this."
"Prentiss, you're being ridiculous. Just check out these little guys." Morgan stepped up to a particularly large, striped Maine Coone batting a jingly ball around his crate. "What about him?"
"Not a hope in hell."
Morgan grinned, amusement lighting up his face. "Why not?"
"He's so…" Emily trailed off, shivering in lieu of words. "Ugly?"
Morgan rolled his eyes and strolled further down the row of crates. "These poor cats. Whichever one of you she takes home, I pity you."
"Gee, thanks, Morgan!" Emily grumbled. "As much as I don't want to be here, I would be the greatest cat-proprietor the FBI has ever seen."
Effectively ignoring her, he continued taking stock of the homeless cats. He bent over, stuck his hand into several crates, stroked several ears, and cooed with a sugary-sweetness Emily had never heard before.
"Jesus, Morgan, who knew you were such a cat lover?" Emily said with a snicker.
"My sister has two cats. They're sweet." Morgan straightened at the waist, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Look, it's clear you don't want a cat. I'm sorry for pushing you on this. I just thought maybe you'd enjoy the companionship."
Emily softened, realizing his constant pestering was simply because he cared, and it was then that a gorgeous Bombay cat three crates over with a gleaming coat caught her eye.
"Oh," she breathed, taking a step closer to the animal. "Look at you."
Morgan followed her gaze; curiosity made him wonder which feline could have possibly made Emily Prentiss soften so.
With a hand squeezed through the slats of the crate, Emily was caressing the cat's ebony fur, and the little creature was purring softly in satisfaction. She was in awe over the cat's glittering green eyes; they reminded her so intensely of the lush green gardens of her childhood home in Rome she had to blink against the sudden tears pooling in her eyes.
Morgan stood silently at her side, eyeing the pair with a combined sense of satisfaction and endearment.
"Sergio," she whispered. "Lo farò nome tu Sergio."
Citing a long night the evening before, Morgan fell asleep during the half hour car ride back to D.C. with Emily's new feline in his lap and Emily herself at the wheel.
The Bombay had other ideas however, and took to repeatedly swiping Morgan's headphones out of his ears with a pathetic yowl. Morgan sleepily placed them back in, only to have Sergio pull them out again with a wild swing of his paws. Groaning, Morgan kept swatting the cat away, which only spurred on Emily's howls of amusement and Sergio's maddening feline antics.
"Bet you're regretting this whole cat thing now, huh?" Emily sing-songed. "Atta boy, Serge!"