A/N: This is for CeeCee333 as part of the Christmas Gift Fic Exchange. The prompts were Christmas lights, snow, Christmas pyjamas and the song Baby it's Cold Outside (this one is there but with a slight twist and a little more subtle!). It's mostly fluffy and a little silly in places, and I hope I've done the pairing and prompts justice. Enjoy and let me know what you think :)
And Merry Christmas :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did there would definitely be Christmas episodes of Criminal Minds.
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Penelope balanced carefully on the stool, hanging the holly wreath on her door, as she held the phone against her ear with her shoulder. Her office had been adorned with tinsel and mistletoe and all kinds of Christmas themed trinkets since the beginning of December, and she'd even managed to slip a small tree into the bullpen when the team were away. While, at first, they had all pretended to be too cynical to bother with such traditions in the office, there had been several additions of presents and small decorations made by the time they clocked off for the holidays earlier that day. However, given the apparent spike in psychopaths which had accompanied the season, she hadn't yet had time to decorate her own apartment. Until now, that was.
With a smile on her face, she climbed down from the stool and stepped back from the door to examine her handiwork.
"So you're okay to come over around two o'clock tomorrow?" JJ confirmed from the other end of the call. Those from the team who had no family, or had families they'd rather avoid, were joining the Jareau-LaMontagne festivities the following day.
"Of course, sugarplum," Garcia grinned. "I can't wait to see Henry's handsome little face!"
From where she stood in her kitchen, weighing out the ingredients to bake gingerbread men, JJ shook her head and laughed.
"I hope you haven't spoiled him too much," she remarked, knowing that, just like every other time she'd uttered them in the past couple of months, her words were falling on deaf ears.
"The laws of being a fairy Godmother dictate that I have no option on that!" she responded.
A loud clatter from JJ's end of the call prevented any further discussion of the matter.
"Henry?" Garcia, heard her friend shout, quickly followed by the muffled, yet unmistakeable, cry of "It wasn't me!" coming from elsewhere in the house.
"I've got to go," JJ informed her. "I think my son just attempted to sled down the stairs," she explained dryly. "The threat that Santa is watching doesn't seem to work on this child."
Penelope couldn't help but laugh. Henry appeared to have been running rings around his parents since school finished for the holidays.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," she replied. "Tell Henry I need him in one piece to open his presents!"
JJ laughed, though she tried to look stern as she came face to face with her sheepish looking six year-old.
"See you tomorrow. If I don't decide to cancel Christmas!" she added, directing the new threat towards the child.
The smile was still fixed firmly on Garcia's face long after they ended the call, and she returned her attention to the box of decorations. Spending time with her friends, an excuse to buy presents, twinkly lights and bright glass baubles - she loved everything about this time of year!
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Derek's apartment somewhat lacked the festive cheer of Penelope's. But, as he packed his suitcase, his mood more than made up for the lack of tinsel and Christmas lights. He was heading home to Chicago for seven whole days with his mom and sisters. It would be the most time he'd spent with them all year, and, in between teasing Penelope over her child-like excitement for the holidays, he'd practically been counting the days.
As he prepared to set off for the airport, he was on the phone to his mother, allowing her to fit in a last burst of long-distance coddling before she had the opportunity to do it up close.
"Yes, Mama," he chuckled, rolling his eyes as she asked if he had his passport. He could hear his sister in the background, passing a message to their mother.
"Desiree says to make sure you don't forget her present this year," she relayed.
"Who says I've got her anything?" he teased, listening to her mutter something about her "baby" brother and his peanut sized brain in response.
"You better all behave this week," Fran Morgan chastised, though her tone was light. She couldn't think of anything better than having all her bickering, play-fighting children back home.
Derek listened to the defensive responses of his sisters while he placed the last perfectly wrapped - he'd paid to have it done at the store but no one needed to know that - gift into his suitcase. He was about to close it, when a colourful package in the corner of the room caught his eye.
"Dammit," he muttered, realising there was one gift he'd somehow forgotten to deliver. He'd been so certain he'd put it under the tree in the office; he couldn't bear her thinking she'd been forgotten.
"What's wrong?" his mother asked.
"I forgot to give Penelope her gift," he explained, preparing for further teasing as to his track record on failing to deliver his gifts on time.
"Then you'd better stop by her place on the way to the airport," Fran instructed. She might have been on hundreds of miles away, and she might have been old enough to have three grown-up children, but she wasn't blind to what was going on in her son's life. And she knew Penelope Garcia meant the world to him.
He glanced at his watch, noting that he still had an hour or so to spare, and agreed that he'd drop off the forgotten gift before he started his long journey home. After all, a little extra time with his Baby Girl could only make Christmas even better.
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The snow was just beginning to fall as Morgan packed his suitcase into the trunk of the car. Chicago had taken a battering over the past week, but these were the first flakes the DC area had seen. Virginia didn't tend to have the winters he'd grown up with and he had to admit he liked the cold. A white Christmas made it extra special.
Sliding into the car, he placed the shiny red parcel on the front passenger seat - there was no way he was going to misplace it again - and set up his hands free to make an important call.
"Baby Girl," he greeted her cheerfully. "How do you feel about an extra visit from Santa this year?"
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Even if he'd never been to Penelope's apartment, Derek would have known exactly which windows were hers from just a brief glance. He crunched across the thin layer of snow which covered the sidewalk, with a smile on his face as he looked up at the building. Each window frame glowed brightly with the multicoloured strings of lights she had meticulously pinned in place.
"Got enough lights there?" he asked with a grin as she opened the door.
"I know it's a bit much but..." she shrugged.
"But you like all the colours?" he completed, with a laugh.
"You know me too well, hot stuff," Penelope winked, stepping aside to let Morgan into the apartment. "Just wait til you see the rest of it!"
Stepping inside, he realised the windows were just the tip of the iceberg. To say her apartment gave Santa's Grotto a run for its money was an understatement. But far from being brash or tasteless, she'd created something magical.
"Can I fix you a drink to warm you up from your journey, kind sir?" she asked, drifting through to the kitchen, where the counters were adorned with all kinds of festive treats for the next day. He found it hard to believe she'd got all this done in the six hours since they left work.
Glancing at his watch, he realised that he didn't have very long to hang around, despite how much he'd like to take Penelope up on her offer of a drink. His drive had taken longer than normal given the increasingly heavy snowfall and he had to expect the same for the rest of the distance to the airport.
"Sorry," he apologised. "I'll have to get to the airport soon."
A frown momentarily flickered across her face, as she realised she wouldn't really be spending much time with him over this year's holiday season. The thought had only just hit her and for some reason it was really deflating her mood. It shouldn't have done - they'd never spent Christmas together before. So why should they start now?
"Let me make you that hot chocolate to go," she offered, retrieving a travel mug from the cupboard and firmly fixing her smile back onto her face, before he noticed anything was wrong.
"Don't you want to open your present?" he asked playfully as he waved the package in front of her.
"Derek Morgan!" she chastised, with one hand on her hip. "You know the rules are no presents until Christmas day!" She paused, trying to read his smirk. "Have you opened your present?" she demanded.
At the expression on her face he started to laugh, unable even to pretend he had broken her one golden rule and opened his present a day early.
"It's in my suitcase, still in it's wrapping and I didn't even squeeze or shake it," he insisted. "I promise!"
Penelope remained unconvinced - Derek Morgan had form for breaking this particular rule. Before he could find further proof in his defence, he was distracted by the beeping of an alert on his cellphone.
"Something wrong?" Garcia asked, as he read the display with a frown. Surely they weren't about to be called into work tonight of all nights.
"Looks like I can stay for that hot chocolate after all," he replied. "My flight's been cancelled."
"I'm sorry, sugar," she told him, knowing how eager he was to get home to his family. Ideally he wouldn't have left it so late to fly home but serial killers didn't tend to have much respect for their holiday plans.
Looking at disappointment on his face, she knew she had to do something. Sure, he wasn't going to have the Christmas he expected, but there was no way that he was going to miss out on the joy of the holiday. She would make sure of that.
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"I'll be on the first flight when the airport re-opens," Derek promised his mother, while Penelope heated milk on the stove to make their hot chocolate. "I love you too," he ended the call.
By the time she returned to the living area, he looked downright gloomy.
"Here you go, hot stuff" she smiled, placing the mug in front of him. "Chocolate makes everything better."
He returned her smile, but he'd lost the cheerfulness he'd shown just ten minutes before.
"We can spice it up a little if you want," she suggested, producing a bottle of rum.
"I'll have to drive home soon; the snow's getting heavier" he replied, still sounding miserable and, more worryingly, failing to make any joke from the phrase "spice it up".
"You could just stay here." The words left her lips before she had a chance to think. She wondered what had got into her. Why had she suggested that? He was her best friend! But then, why would he think her suggestion was anything other than platonic? He'd stayed there plenty of times before. Her cheeks flushed red as her thoughts raced round her head. What was getting into her tonight?
"I could take a cab," he responded, brightening a little as the compromise sprung to mind. He wasn't getting to spend Christmas with his mom and sisters but making himself more unhappy wasn't going to do anything to change that. And, if there was one person who would make him feel better it was Penelope Garcia.
He accepted the bottle, tipping a generous glug of its contents into his mug. Glancing in Penelope's direction, he paused, intending to check whether she wanted her drink to receive the same treatment. But he was distracted as he noticed the pink flush in her cheeks. There was something going on with her and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
"What?" she asked, sensing that he was staring.
"Do you want some?" he enquired, a slow smile sliding across his lips as she tried to compose herself. She was cute when she got flustered.
"Honey, do ya really need to ask?" she recovered, though her eyes were suddenly unable to leave his lips.
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"Penelope, are you trying to get me drunk?" he teased, as she returned from the kitchen with two glasses full of her latest concoction.
"I am trying to get you into the Christmas spirit," she responded indignantly, dropping down beside him and thrusting a glass into his hand.
It had been a couple of hours since Derek arrived and they were stretched out on her couch, seemingly working their way through a list of Christmas cocktail recipes. In truth, she was making her many trips to fetch refreshments to avoid the butterflies she felt in her stomach everytime his gaze lingered for just a second too long. Had he always looked at her like that, or was it just tonight?
"What's in this?" he exclaimed taking a sip and screwing up his face.
Penelope tasted her own drink, insistent that it was a "classic" and that he simply had no taste, but her face soon mirrored his.
"Okay, I will have to accept that my genius has failed on this one solitary occasion," she admitted, preparing to get up and find them something that tasted less like peppermint flavoured paint stripper.
"Oh no you don't," he told her, putting their glasses on the table and pulling her close, so that her head fell against his chest.
She raised her eyebrows in confusion.
"You keep disappearing off to the kitchen. I'd rather spend my evening with my Baby Girl right here," he explained, pressing a kiss just above her hairline, and yet again, finding himself staring at her smile.
"What would everyone say?" she gasped. And though she was joking, she could imagine the speculation which would spread among their friends if they knew the two had found themselves snuggled up in her apartment.
"There would be a scandal," he agreed, forcing his face into an expression of feigned sincerity, before kissing her cheek.
She giggled at the sensation of his breath against her skin. There was something new happening between them tonight and she was filled with a more welcome flutter of excitement at the thought of what could happen.
/
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Another hour passed, and they remained curled up on the sofa. Her head resting on his chest; his arm across her stomach. A cheesy black and white movie played on the TV, but neither of them were watching. They had more than enough conversation and flirtation to keep them occupied.
"I should be going," he said, with no real commitment, as he recovered from his latest fit of laughter and glanced at the clock. He hadn't imagined he could feel so happy after his holiday plans had gone so badly wrong.
"Stay," she responded, knowing very little persuasion would be required.
"I promised I'd text Desiree to let my mom know I got home safe," he told her.
She chuckled to herself - he was such a momma's boy at times.
"Just tell her you're safe at chez Garcia," she suggested with a wink. "The snow's too deep now. And I can't have my sizzling hot action man getting cold."
"They'd never let me hear the end of it."
"Of what? Innocently sleeping on the sofa of a dear friend?" she responded, in mock surprise.
He shook his head and laughed. As far as his family would see it, there would be nothing remotely innocent about him spending the night at Garcia's place. And his mother would be picking out a hat for the wedding before he'd had a chance to explain himself.
"I'll call a cab," he persisted. "We need to protect your honour as well, Miss Garcia," he added with a grin.
And while the pretence continued, they both knew that he was going nowhere.
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After the oh-so-unfortunate realisation that, given the increasingly blizzard-like conditions outside, no taxis were braving the roads, Derek ventured out to collect his suitcase from his car.
"Hurry up!" Garcia called, stomping her feet and rubbing her hands together as she stood on the cold front step of her apartment building. "I'm going to freeze my perfectly formed behind off here!"
"No one made you come outside, Baby Girl," he responded with a laugh.
"No one made me come outside," she muttered. That wasn't how she remembered it. And she was unlikely to forget being bundled into his arms and then carried from her apartment draped over his shoulder like Santa's sack of presents.
He turned back, a cheeky grin plastered across his face, before stepping out of sight and into the street.
As he collected his belongings, she found herself distracted by the falling snow. When she'd returned from work that afternoon not a single flake had fallen from the sky, but now the front yard has been transformed into a dark and peaceful winter wonderland. And instead of spending the night in anticipation of the next day, she had an extra part of Christmas to enjoy. At the thought, she felt a warm smile spread through her body. There was something especially magical about the atmosphere on this particular Christmas Eve.
And then something icy cold hit her neck, and her happy bubble of Christmas magic popped.
"Derek Morgan!" she screeched, brushing the snow from her sweater.
Her assailant chuckled as he rolled another snow ball and prepared to throw it in her direction.
Ducking out of the way, she managed to dodge this assault, but he was pressing together another handful of snow. This meant war.
For all Derek's speed and strength, she had the brains to take him on. As well as the advantage of being on home turf.
Snow balls were thrown back and forth, some hitting their target and others going wide. Derek was preparing to strike back against her latest shot, which had hit him square in the face, when he suddenly lost sight of the blonde. His eyes darted around the yard, as a sense of unease settled in his stomach. She was here and she was coming for him.
"Penelope, I can see you," he bluffed, turning towards the apartment and listening out for any sounds of movement.
"Really? You got eyes on the back of your head?" came her voice, as she threw herself towards him and slammed a loose handful of snow into the back of his neck.
He cried out in surprise and shuddered as ice cold water melted into his clothes and trickled down his back.
"You're going to regret that!" he laughed, as she attempted to get away.
It only took him a second to tackle her into a mound of soft snow, almost knocking her glasses from her face.
"I surrender," she squealed as he leaned over her, pinning her to the cold ground.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he scooped up a handful of snow.
"Stop right there!" she commanded.
He leaned closer, one cold hand reaching behind her neck to pull back her sweater and the other filled with snow.
Before she knew it, she'd leaned forward and her lips had collided with his.
"Oh!" she breathed, when he pulled away, the snow tumbling back to the ground as he seemed to forget about his revenge. "I didn't mean..."
His lips were quickly back on hers as he returned the kiss, giving her no chance to apologise or explain. Both were suddenly oblivious to their cold surroundings. And to the fact that the apartment building's security light was illuminating their embrace for all her neighbours to see.
"People might be watching," she commented, remembering where they were, as he paused to brush the falling snow from her hair.
He kissed her again.
"So?" he responded.
"So, we're making out in the snow."
More kisses, and a slight chuckle at her concern followed.
"And everyone can see."
"I don't care," he replied, smiling broadly as he spoke. "Do you?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to one side.
She shook her head.
"I don't care. Not at all. They already think I'm crazy and I..."
"Shut up, Penelope," he laughed, pressing a finger to her lips and silencing her rambling.
"Okay," she mumbled, her eyes widening behind her squint glasses in her disbelief at the situation.
He was kissing her. He was kissing her.
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"Penelope?" he whispered, running his fingers through her hair as they lay cuddled together under the blankets.
"Yeah?" she responded.
After several more minutes in the snow, Derek had pulled her to her feet and they'd headed back inside to get warm. The risk of hypothermia was enough to bring even the most magical romantic moment to an end.
"It's seven minutes past twelve," he informed her. "That means it's officially Christmas day."
She turned around to look at him, her eyes sparkling as she caught on to what he meant.
The room smelled of cinnamon and berries from the candles she was burning on the coffee table, and the only light came from the flames and from the twinkling Christmas lights.
"Dibs, not moving to get them," she grinned, snuggling further beneath the covers.
Derek shook his head and chuckled, but gently lifted her from his chest and slid off the sofa towards a fibre-optic tree, where the two parcels sat side by side.
"You first," he told her, passing the small, square package in her direction. "Merry Christmas, Baby Girl."
Trying, rather unsuccessfully, to contain her excitement, she peeled back the paper, and opened the box inside.
"Oh, they're beautiful!" she gasped, as she opened the box to reveal a pair of earrings made of a bright green crystal. "Thank you."
Leaning close, she pressed a kiss to his lips, letting it linger as she savoured the novel feeling that this was something she could do. But then suddenly, she pulled away.
"Wait! You can't open your present!" she exclaimed, snatching the parcel out of his hands.
"Why not?" he puzzled, as her face flushed red. It was after midnight after all - he was playing by her rules.
"Because I thought we were only buying joke presents this year," she responded, glancing at the reindeer print paper which covered his less than sensible gift.
"Women actually mean that?" he queried, only to be shot down with her finest glare.
"I always mean what I say, tiger," she reminded him, her feisty flirtatiousness returning as though by default, before her mind again settled on her embarrassment over the gift.
"I don't care what you bought me," he insisted. "It's from you, so I will love it."
The grin reappeared on her face at his words, though she still wished her gift was at least a little more elegant. With some reluctance she relinquished her grip on the package, watching anxiously as he tore apart the paper.
"Damn girl, you got my colour just right!" His eyes twinkled and he grinned broadly as he held up a pair of red pyjamas, designed to look like Santa's suit.
"I promise I will get you something much better the moment the shops open!" she gushed.
He ignored her, immediately standing up and stripping off. All thoughts of her gift faux-pas left her head as he stood before her, almost entirely naked.
"What?" he smirked, as her eyes widened and the colour rose in her cheeks.
How was it possible for anyone to have muscles like that?
"N-nothing," she responded, forcing herself to lock her eyes with his until he was safely clothed in the pyjamas.
"Like what you see?" he teased, taking great pleasure in the fact he had rendered her completely speechless.
"Maybe, I should have bought something a little less... covering," she thought aloud, starting to regain her command of the English language as he buttoned the shirt. "Like boxers or..."
Her musings never got to reach their end, because a Santa-suit pyjama wearing man launched himself towards her and, once again, silenced her with a kiss.
"There's always next year," he winked.
And as the years went on, and Derek Morgan's collection of novelty underwear grew, they never forgot that first Christmas. Or the timely combination of snow, pyjamas and a little Christmas magic, which had finally brought them together.