Derek shifted in his chair and wondered why ER waiting rooms were always so uncomfortable. Given your situation, shouldn't they have comfy recliners, maybe a room service menu? He sighed.

They'd been having such a good day. Derek and Penelope had been in his kitchen, making dinner and grooving to Motown. Martha Reeves and the Vandellas were rocking the house as Penelope bunny hopped past Clooney's water dish. Unfortunately, he'd dripped some water on the floor and Penelope slipped. She'd skidded into the chair, which tipped over and crashed through the sliding glass door, taking Penelope with it.

Derek had rushed over immediately and gingerly scooped her up out of the broken glass. She'd had several small cuts that were fine, but there was also one cut on her stomach that wouldn't stop bleeding. He'd insisted on taking her to the hospital and now he was waiting. He knew that she'd be fine, but he wouldn't be able to relax until he saw her. Derek sighed again.

He looked up as a doctor walked through the door. "Penelope Garcia?" he said.

"That's me," Derek said, jumping up quickly. "How is she?"

"She's fine," the doctor replied. "She had a small laceration from the glass that we stitched up, but I should warn you . . ." The doctor hesitated.

"Is she okay?" Derek asked anxiously.

"Yes, but . . . she's had an unusual reaction to the anesthetic." They began to walk back to the cubicle where Penelope was waiting.

"What kind of reaction?" Derek questioned. He knew the answer when they walked through the doors and he heard a familiar voice belting out "We'll be daaaaaaancin'! Dancin' in the streets!" Derek looked at the doctor, who shrugged.

The doctor pulled the curtain aside to reveal a nurse holding a wriggling Penelope down on the bed. "No, no, Ms. Garcia," she said firmly. "There will be no dancing!"

"But-" Penelope began to protest before she noticed Derek standing there with the doctor. "Hey hot stuff!" she said cheerfully.

The nurse turned around and gave Derek the once over. "Oh, you must be the god of sculpted chocolate thunder." She smirked at him as he fought down a blush. "Ms. Garcia has been very vocal about you."

"He's my noir hero," Penelope proclaimed proudly. The doctor and nurse exchanged amused looks.

Derek looked at the doctor. "Ummm, yeah. What did you give her?"

The doctor said, "The standard anesthetic for stitches. For some people, it acts like a mild narcotic. She's fine, but will be especially euphoric for a while. It'll wear off soon and she'll probably crash until morning."

"Okay," Derek said. "So, what do we need to know before we leave?"

The doctor handed Derek some instructions for cleaning and caring for the stitches, and reviewed them with him. "Normally, I would tell her all of this and say that she could go home, but given this reaction, I think that someone should stay with her tonight. Would you be able to do that?"

"No problem," Derek said.

"Oooh!" Penelope squealed loudly. "Sleepover!" The doctor and nurse smiled again.

"Come on, baby girl" Derek said, gently lifting Penelope off of the gurney. The walk out to the car was much longer than it should have been, because Penelope kept wanting to stop every five feet to talk to someone, touch something, or have a conversation about whatever was in her line of sight.

Derek finally got Penelope out to the SUV and buckled her inside. "Remind me never to get you drunk, sweetheart." Penelope giggled.

Derek jogged over to the driver's side and climbed into the car. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he took out his phone and called Hotch to give him an update. He'd called Hotch earlier and asked him to secure his house; he hadn't wanted to leave it with a broken door, but he was on the way to the hospital with Penelope.

"Yeah, Hotch, she's fine." Derek said. "She's had a little reaction to the anesthetic, so I'm going to stay with her. Did you have a chance to -" He broke off in surprise as Penelope snatched the phone out of his hand and held it up to her ear.

"Hel-looooooooooo, boss man!" she sang out. "How are you and the rest of our fine, furry friends?"

Hotch was silent for a moment and said, "We're fine, Penelope. Can you give the phone back to Derek?"

Penelope pouted at the phone. "Don't you want to talk to me? Don't you like me?" Her voice began to quaver, and Hotch felt bad.

"I like you very much Penelope -" he said

"Yay!" Penelope interrupted.

"It's just that Derek and I were talking and I wanted to finish," he explained patiently.

"Oh! Okay! Bye!" She burbled into the phone and gave it back to Derek.

"Hotch?" Derek said.

"I see what you mean by reaction," Hotch said dryly. "In answer to your question, yes, I boarded up the door and I picked up Clooney. He and Jack are having a marvelous time, so it's no problem to keep him for the night. We might have to get a dog now, thanks to you."

"Nah," Derek laughed. "Jack can take care of Clooney when we're out on cases, two birds with one stone. "

"Hmm," Hotch mused.

"Anyway, man, thanks a lot, and I'll get Clooney in the morning."

The conversation ended at just the right time, as Derek pulled up in front of Penelope's building.

"Okay, sweetheart, time to go inside," Derek looked over at Penelope and chuckled as she opened the door and tried to get out, but jerked back because she forgot about the seatbelt. She pouted as he walked around the truck and released her from the belt, then helped her out of the truck. He put his arm around her and guided her up the stairs and into her apartment.

Penelope was moving slower now, and she had stopped talking. Derek suspected that the crash that the doctor had mentioned was imminent.

"Okay, baby girl, let's get you into bed," Derek murmured. As he scooped her up into his arms and laid her down on the bed, he realized that she would need to change her clothes. The ones that she was wearing still had blood on them.

"Baby, you need to wake up for a minute and put on your PJs," he whispered.

"Don't wanna," she whined. "You do it." She curled up on her side, and it was clear that she wasn't going to be able to do it on her own.

Derek closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He was doing just fine being friends with his baby girl, but he had to be on constant guard that he wouldn't just snap and haul her into his arms and kiss the ever living daylights out of her. Undressing her would be a test of his willpower. "Best friend, best friend, best friend," he chanted to himself.

He walked over to her dresser and began looking for something for her to sleep in. He opened the top drawer, and then slammed it shut when he realized that it was full of lacy bras and panties. He did not need any more detail for his fantasies.

He cautiously opened the second drawer, and it was a little better. There were silky slips and stockings, but they weren't supposed to be sexy. It didn't stop him from imagining her in them, though. He closed that drawer and moved to the third.

Bingo! He found t-shirts and shorts and yoga pants. "This will have to do," he said out loud. He pulled out a few items, and turned back to Penelope. He gulped as he saw her sprawled out on the bed, hair fanned out on the pillow, looking sexy as hell. "Lynch, Lynch, Lynch," he reminded himself. "She chose him, she doesn't want you."

He walked over to the bed and pulled her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He unzipped her dress and wiggled it up over her waist. "Arms up, sweetheart," he said. He kept his eyes resolutely on her sleepy face as he slid the dress over her head. He grabbed the pants and knelt down on the floor. He put one foot in each leg of the pants, then pulled them up over her legs as far as they could go. He leaned her forward and said "Stand up for a second." She started to stand, but fell back quickly. Luckily, it was enough time for him to get the pants up and around her waist.

Now came the real test - putting on the shirt. He took a deep breath, and reminded himself that he couldn't live without her, so he shouldn't screw up their friendship. He looked at her sleepy face again, and saw her smiling at him. She lifted a hand to his face and whispered, "You always take such good care of me."

Derek closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being touched by his baby girl. She threw her arms around him, and he took a quick breath when he reciprocated and realized that her shirt was still in his hand. He was touching more of her skin than ever before. With great difficulty, he pulled away.

"Okay, baby girl, arms up!" he said briskly. If he was clinical and cheerful about it, he might just get through this. He tugged the shirt over her head and was pulling her arm down to put in the sleeve when she cried "Wait!"

"What is it?" He asked.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste as she said "I can't sleep in my bra."

Derek raised his face to heaven and asked God why he was being tested like this. "Okay," he said, "I'm going to turn my back while you take that off and put your shirt on." He heard some rustling and then "I'm done."

He took a deep breath and turned around. She was sitting on the bed, wearing the t-shirt. He sighed in relief. "Okay, let's get you in to the bed now." Penelope lay back on the bed and snuggled in.

As he pulled the covers up, he couldn't help but brush his fingers lightly against the bandage on her stomach. "You should kiss it and make it better," she murmured. Derek laughed, then kissed his fingers and touched the bandage. "That doesn't count," she frowned. "You have to actually kiss the boo boo." She pulled up her shirt and pointed.

Derek glanced downward this time, now convinced that Satan was personally involved in his temptation. He leaned down and kissed the bandage. He couldn't help nuzzling her a little, which led to soft kisses on her gently rounded tummy. "God, your skin is so soft," he whispered. He snapped back to reality and glanced up to see her reaction.

But Penelope was sound asleep. He sighed and finished tucking her in. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He headed to the couch for some sleep so that he could wake up ready to take care of his best friend.

FIN