A/N: I wasn't expecting to update this story so quickly, but I guess I surprised myself with it. I realized I made you all wait over a month for the next chapter (I don't even want to get started on how long it's been since I've updated my other stories), so I'm sorry! As always, thank you to the two reviewers, I love that you like the story! Also, thanks to everyone who's favorited, followed, and read!

"I promise. We'll do what they want and then we'll be alright. I'll keep you safe, I promise."

Emma replayed Riley's words through her mind as she numbly cleaned up the mess that the two intruders had left of her new apartment. Riley had left to return to his apartment a few minutes ago. He had wanted to stay and help her, but she insisted that she needed to be alone to think through everything that happened. He was reluctant, but eventually she persuaded him that she would be okay.

Her father would be furious if he found out what had transpired. She knew he would immediately take her off the mission if he had any inkling that two unidentified men broke into her apartment, threatened her, and then roped her into what was most likely an illegal scheme. Every inch of her sanity screamed at her to call him and tell him what occurred, but she found she couldn't bring herself to dial his number into her phone. She just couldn't leave Riley to deal with the men and their threats by himself.

True, she was the one who panicked and buckled under pressure, but Emma chalked that up as a one time fluke. Next time, she would be prepared.

Looking around her apartment, Emma sighed when her eyes landed on the front door with a broken lock from when the men entered while she was out with Riley. Normally, she would've noticed something such as a broken lock on her front door, but she had to admit that her mind was on other things last night.

Well, she thought, not other things. Riley.

Riley.

He promised to keep her safe and how did she thank him?

That's right, she all but threw him out of her apartment. She ran a hand over her face in frustration, a habit she picked up from her father over the years.

The intruders threatened both her and Riley, and the only one Riley was concerned for was her.

And she unceremoniously threw him out of her apartment.

Hastily changing into a pair of pajama pants, a camisole, and a loose cardigan, Emma left her apartment, deciding to follow her instincts instead of her training.

Two steps forward and three clipped knocks on a door later, Riley's head peaked into the hallway from behind a cautiously cracked-open door. Upon seeing her, Riley opened the door further. "Is everything alright?"

Emma wrapped her arms around her body and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I think my lock is broken, and I don't really feel safe staying at my place tonight..." she trailed off uncomfortably.

Riley's eyes widened and he peaked at his apartment behind him. She had never been inside of his apartment, and he was really hoping she never would be. It was a mess. Even though he was a computer genius, for some reason he could never figure out how to keep up an apartment. "Uh, it's sort of a mess," he stuttered nervously, despite the fact that he was holding her in his arms only minutes ago as she cried.

Emma chuckled at his reaction, knowing the reason for it. "Riley, I've seen your desk at work. It doesn't scare me... too much."

Riley groaned and stepped aside. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he muttered, ushering into his apartment and locking the door behind her.

Emma stopped and looked around the sparsely furnished apartment around her. It wasn't too bad of a mess, just the odd unwashed dish placed here and there, clothing strewn all over the floor, and many unpacked boxes lined the walls. "Did you just move in?" she asked, referring to the boxes.

"Er- no," Riley replied as he hurriedly gathered up his clothing from the living room floor. "I just haven't found time to unpack yet."

Raising an eyebrow, Emma surveyed the pile of opened DVD cases, their contents all over the coffee table in front of the television resting upon a moving box. "I'd say you had plenty of time, judging from your DVD collection," she teased, laughing at the way his neck reddened with mortification.

"I'll get to it eventually," he said under his breath, tossing the clothing into the clothes basket. He realized this was the first time he had ever put the basket to use. "Um, so, I can make up the bed for you, if you'd like," he offered timidly.

"That's alright, I'm perfectly fine on the couch," Emma replied, sitting onto the couch. She pushed aside a pile of comic books to make room for her feet.

Riley stood in the doorway of his bedroom uncertainly. "You can't sleep on the couch."

Emma cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him. "And why not?"

"It's not proper to have your guest stay on the couch," Riley countered, looking away from her smug smile.

"Alright then," Emma laughed, "where would you have your guest stay?"

"The bed, of course."

"The bed," Emma repeated slowly, enjoying the way Riley was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

He swallowed audibly and nodded, still keeping his eyes on anything but her. "Yep."

"You want me to sleep on your bed," Emma repeated, grinning. "Now that's improper, isn't it, Riley?"

His eyes widened comically as he realized what it sounded like. "No- no, that's not what I meant!"

"You like to move quickly, don't you, Riley?" she teased, making him blush further. As he began zipping and unzipping his hoody nervously, Emma stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand upon his to stop the nervous zipping. "Calm down, I'm only playing with you, Riley."

Riley swallowed again and finally mustered up the courage to look her in the eyes. "Having fun mocking me, Miss Beaumont?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

She couldn't make out the emotions in his blue eyes, but something told her to be careful with how she chose her next words. One wrong word and she could really do some damage. "I'm not mocking you, Mister Poole," she replied simply.

"We both know there's no way in Hell you're flirting with me," Riley continued, and Emma finally realized he must have been rejected multiple times in the past. She had to tread lightly.

"If that's what you'd like to think, then I'm not flirting with you... I'm merely being extra nice to someone I find extra attractive."

Riley snorted at her response. "Clever," he admitted, "untrue, but clever nonetheless." He walked into the bedroom and began stripping the bed of the blankets. "Come on, let's put new sheets on the bed."

Emma looked at the bedsheets skeptically. "Riley, I just saw you in the laundromat washing these exact sheets two days ago. Why on Earth are you changing them again?"

Riley pulled back and looked at her with confusion. "So you can have sheets that smell fresh like laundry soap instead of two-day old ones that smell like your neighbor?"

Emma rolled her eyes and jumped onto his bed, landing on her back. She smiled up at him. "Riley, it's fine. I happen to think you smell good."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "You are incredibly perplexing, you know that, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?" she laughed, motioning for him to join her on the bed.

He remained in place, however, much to her dismay. "Well for one, you're laying on my bed."

"Astute observation, Poole."

Riley rolled his eyes and ignored her comment. "Two, you can't deny you're attractive."

Emma smirked once more. "So I don't see what's so perplexing about me."

He threw his hands up in the air. "What's perplexing is that you're attractive and you're laying on my bed!" he said quickly, his voice raising to a higher, more frantic pitch.

"You're attractive and you lay on your bed, yet you don't have a problem with that."

"I'm not attractive!" Riley complained. "I'm witty, sarcastic, and unusually smart, but I. Am. Not. Attractive."

Emma sat up and grabbed onto his arm, pulling him down next to her. He shifted away from her a few inches. Emma rolled onto her side to face him. "You're right, you're not attractive."

Riley sighed. "See? I told you."

"Hey- stop cutting me off, Riley Poole," she commanded. "Anyway, as I was saying," she continued, "you're not attractive. You're sexy."

Riley let out a loud laugh. Emma stared at him. "What?" she asked.

Riley turned his head to look at her strangely. "You're hilarious."

"No, I mean it, Riley!" Emma insisted, making Riley laugh even more. "Stop laughing! It's so true!"

"It's not," Riley countered. "I see my face every single day, and after careful consideration, I can tell you there is nothing about this," he motioned to his face, "that is sexy."

"Yes, there really is."

Riley turned his body to face hers. "Prove it."

"Fine," Emma muttered. "You have a strong masculine jaw and pillowy lips that you hide behind your stupid goatee. You have gorgeous icy blue eyes that you hide behind large glasses and too-long hair. And you have alluring body that for some reason you hide under baggy clothing that looks like you've had since you were fourteen."

"You're just saying that," Riley finally replied quietly, making Emma chuckle.

"I'm just saying that to what, get in your bed?" she motioned around them, "I'm already here, Riley."

"I've never been attractive, and that's just the way it is," Riley murmured. "Once you see that, the easier everything will be for us both."

"I promise that when we're through with whatever the hell that was earlier, I will make sure you see yourself the same way I see you."

"Not possible."

"Definitely possible, Poole. Now, I'm tired. It's been a long day and I just want to sleep. Either your sexy body can stay here or the couch. It's up to you."

Riley finally allowed himself to let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and laughed. "Actually, it's up to you."

"Fine," Emma pouted. "Why don't you turn off the lights and you can join me here. It's your house, I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch."

Riley chuckled and got out of bed to shut the room lights off. He stood at the foot of the bed hesitantly. "What's the matter, Riley?" Emma groaned, pulling the blankets over her body and collapsing her head onto a pillow.

"You're um, on my side of the bed?"

Emma opened one eye to look at him sleepily. "You're going to complain about your side of the bed when there's a girl in it?" Riley began to stutter and she cut him off. "Riley, if you have that much of a problem, take it from me yourself. If not, sleep on the other side of the bed tonight."

"I always sleep next to the window."

"Deal with it or take it from me. Either way, stop talking, it's late and I like the quiet."

Emma smirked to herself as she heard Riley sigh and felt the bed sink down under his weight. The blankets rustled as he pulled them over himself. "I hate this side of the bed," he muttered darkly.

"Do something about it then, otherwise shut up," Emma replied teasingly knowing he wouldn't do anything about it. He was many things, but he definitely was not assertive enough to reclaim his side of the bed, especially when a girl was there.

"Maybe I will."

"I know you won't."

Riley narrowed his eyes at the back of her head in the dark. She was so infuriating. That was his side of the bed. The absurdity of the night was finally catching up with him as he kept imagining himself as a bolder man reclaiming his side of the bed, but he knew she was right. He wouldn't take it from her. Everyone would've said the same thing had they the opportunity.

So perhaps that's why he decided he had to reclaim what was his. If she was fine sleeping on the couch, she'd be fine sleeping on the other side of the bed.

"You don't know me, Emma."

"I know you're so nervous that I'm in your bed that you forgot to change out of your clothes before getting into bed," Emma scoffed, her eyes remaining closed. Her voice was breathier than normal, telling him she was close to falling asleep.

He, on the other hand, was wide awake. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, throwing the blankets off of him as he jumped out of bed, grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt and went into the bathroom to change.

Riley rested his palms against the cold sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to see what Emma found so attractive about him. Years of rejection and self-deprecating humor prevented him from believing her, however. He ran his hand through the rough hairs of his goatee and contemplated shaving it, but thought against it. The last time he had shaved this late at night, he had managed to nick his face multiple times.

That just wouldn't do tonight, especially with a female in his presence.

In his bed.

No, he thought, on his side of the bed.

Riley sighed and knew he wouldn't be able to sleep on the wrong side of the bed. He hated sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door, and tonight he definitely needed his sleep. He had a lot of work to do in the morning at work that he had been putting off all week.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he exited the bathroom, padded silently across his bedroom and stood over Emma's almost-asleep form on his side of the bed.

Emma cocked an eyebrow but didn't open her eyes. She didn't have to to know he was standing over her. "Riley, I know you're there," she muttered tiredly.

Riley chuckled. "Can't you just move over, please?"

"No, if you want it, take it, Riley."

"Maybe I will," Riley cautioned.

"Good," Emma replied dismissively, fully knowing Riley wouldn't follow through, but secretly hoping he would.

Riley stood still, battling in his mind whether or not to reclaim his side of the bed. On the one hand, he could submit and sleep on the door-side of the bed, but then he would be showing Emma that he wasn't assertive; however, on the other hand, he could assert himself and move her off of his side of the bed, but then he risked the situation going one of multiple ways that he wasn't prepared mentally to deal with.

"You have three seconds to decide, Poole, before I am going to sleep," Emma warned.

"That's it, you're moving over," Riley decided.

He pulled the blankets from off her body as she protested. "Riley!" Emma laughed, squirming as his cold hands grabbed her side and tried to roll her to the other side of the bed. Emma fought back and grabbed the bed frame above her head to prevent herself from being moved.

"You're like an impossible child!" Riley growled playfully, seizing her hands with his and trying to pry them from the frame. He kept his concentration on the task at hand, knowing that if his concentration broke for a split second, he'd notice how his body was inches from hers. He could already feel the body heat radiating off of her and smell the faintest hint of floral lotion on her.

"Riley!" she yelped when she began to feel her fingers slip from the frame. She should've never put on lotion before coming over. "Wait! I'll let go under one condition."

Riley's fingers stopped applying pressure to hers and he froze, waiting for her to continue. "What? At this point, I'll do practically anything to just go to sleep."

"First, I want you to walk with me to work in the morning."

He groaned, not wanting to wake up that early. "Ugh fine. Now move."

"Wait, I'm not done."

"What more could you possibly want?"

"Walk me home too," Emma added with a grin, knowing he would give in.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, now can you move?"

She laughed fondly and released her death-grip on the bed. "Riley?"

"What?" he groaned tiredly.

"You're on top of me," Emma smirked. "I can't move over with your body on top of mine."

Riley's eyes widened and he blushed madly, thankful that she wouldn't be able to see that in the dark of the room. "S-sorry," he stuttered, jerking upwards to allow her to move. He hadn't realized he was that close to her.

"Thank you, Riley," she responded sweetly, rolling to the other side of the bed and pulling the blankets up around her shoulders. "Good night."

Riley climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. "Good night," he replied, collapsing onto the pillow, praying sleep would come quickly, but knowing it never would. Not tonight. Not when his pillow and the covers around him smelled like her. Not when he could hear her slowing breathing and feel the mattress shift ever so slightly when she moved in her sleep.

Damn it. He knew she was going to be the death of him.