"Hey there, have any panic attacks lately?" Garcia took the edge off her question with her huge smile.
He shook his head, "You are never going to let that go, are you?" He leaned against the door and took her in, her gorgeous hair piled on top of her head like she'd just tumbled out of bed, lipstick still as bright as when he left, glasses perched half way down her nose, the peasant top that extenuated her figure to perfection and that smile of hers that lit the entire room.
"No," she answered, "I am not. And you know why?"
"No, but I'm sure you are going to tell me?" he said, sitting in the chair next to her, getting comfortable.
"Because you, Mr. Morgan, you are always composed and always secure and it's kind of nice to see that you aren't Superman."
He frowned, not liking the way that sounded, "No one's invulnerable. I've never said that I am."
"No, but you appear that way, even on the team, everyone else might have a hard time, but you, you so rarely show any weakness. You have to be that way I know and I've always admired it. Now I admire it more?"
He continued frowning, "You admire me because I freaked out."
She nodded, leaning closer, "See even though you're not Superman you still go out there determined to save the world and that makes you even more of a hero than I thought."
"Garcia," he said, slightly embarrassed by the way her words affected him, clogging his throat, "I'm not…."
"Don't argue with me," she said, calmly, leaning over and kissing his cheek, "You know you won't win."
He smiled at her, "No, baby girl, you always win."
He left then, carrying with him her words, and the warmth and pride they made him feel. After the plane ride home, he really needed that, he knew Garcia couldn't know that, but somehow, even though she didn't know, she still knew exactly what to say.