Derek Morgan shook his head as he flashed a bemused smile at the woman parading around in front of him, teetering ever so slightly on what seemed like the millionth pair of shoes she'd tried on that day.

"They're beautiful, Garcia," he said yet again, though he'd barely glanced at her latest selection. The pair had been shopping all morning, and he was beginning to feel like a broken record: she'd try on a pair of sky-high, brightly colored heels (usually featuring bows, straps, sparkles, or all of the above), he'd tell her how lovely they were, and she'd mutter under her breath for a moment before heading back to the rack. Somewhere in all that muttering, she'd talked herself into buying six new pairs of shoes from three different stores, which Derek was now carrying. Though he never minded spending the day with his favorite girl, her whole routine was starting to feel more than a little monotonous.

As Penelope found herself a department store chair and set about undoing the shoes' buckles, Derek adjusted Garcia's purse on his shoulder, shifted the colorful shopping bags to one hand and wandered over towards a rack of dresses. The frock that had caught his attention was made of a beautiful baby blue fabric printed with tiny white polka dots. He could absolutely see his Baby Girl wearing it, and the look that flashed in her eyes as she padded barefoot across the aisle towards him told him she could, too.

"Morgan, what're you doing?" She asked, crossing her arms and trying her best to look annoyed. He couldn't help but smirk as he noticed her adorably pink toenails. "I told you I just wanted to shop for shoes today! These aren't shoes," she reminded him with a gesture towards the rack of beautiful dresses.

"I know they're not, Baby Girl, but how about you try it on anyway?" He suggested with a grin.

Penelope could feel panic surging through her and hoped to God it wasn't showing on her face. There was a reason she only ever asked Derek to join her when she was shoe shopping; the last thing she wanted was Mr. Sex Appeal waiting outside the dressing room while she tried on a dress that she was sure would be anything but flattering.

"Aww, Sugar, you know I could never afford that brand," she insisted, feeling rather proud of herself for coming up with such a plausible excuse. "I may be a goddess, but my salary's a little more down-to-earth."

"It's on sale," Derek countered, waggling his eyebrows.

Crap.

Penelope let out a shaky breath as she realized there was no escape. She bit her lip as she stepped past Morgan and searched for her size. This was going to be so embarrassing.

"You don't have to come," she said weakly as she slipped her feet back into her own shoes and headed for the closest dressing room.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Derek joked, albeit a little half-heartedly. Something was definitely wrong with Garcia, and he was beginning to regret asking her to try on the dress; he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. As she headed for the fitting room, he hung back and grabbed the dress in a size smaller and a size larger than the one she'd picked up. He'd been shopping with his mother and sisters enough times to know that dress sizes were anything but consistent, and he didn't want to have to come back in search of a different size.

Penelope was highly disappointed to find the fitting rooms completely vacant. She'd been hoping for a long line so she could simply tell Derek she didn't feel like waiting. With a resigned sigh, she slipped into the closest room and shimmied out of her own shoes and dress before reaching for the pretty blue one.

She had to admit that Derek had pretty good taste. If it weren't for the high price tag, this was definitely a dress she'd pick out for herself: three-quarter length sleeves, that beautiful blue color, and the subtle whimsy of the polka dots all screamed Penelope. Still, she hated trying on new clothes. There was no torture quite like picking out a cute new outfit only to discover it made you look like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

With a final grimace, she unzipped the new dress and slipped it over her head, hoping she'd be lucky enough for it to fit. To her horror, however, the skirt clung terribly to her thunder thighs and the sleeves were skin-tight. Her breasts and butt both looked dangerously close to ripping the seams right out, and her flabby stomach was on prominent display through the clingy fabric. The final straw, however, was when she discovered that the zipper wouldn't come up past her fleshy hips. Tears of shame and disappointment pooled in her eyes, and her breath came in short, shaky pants. The image in the mirror was horrible, but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away.

"Penelope?" Derek's concerned voice from outside the door only magnified her horror, and she couldn't stop her shaky breaths from escalating into quiet sobs.

"Penelope, I'm coming in, okay?" He said gently, and Penelope's eyes widened as she realized she'd failed to lock the door in her haste to get this ordeal over with.

"Oh, God, no, please, don't," she stammered, but Morgan was already in the door, holding her close and whispering softly as he tried to still her violently shaking shoulders.

"Shhhh," he said softly, "You're okay, Penelope. It's fine. Everything's okay."

"No," she stammered roughly as she tried to pull out of his arms. "Please, Derek, just leave."

"I don't think so, Baby Girl," he said gently. He sat down in the small chair in the corner of the dressing room and pulled a squirming, protesting Penelope into his lap. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

Penelope's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she felt his strong, muscular legs underneath her, knowing he could feel her fleshy butt and thighs on his lap and could see how the dress refused to zip. She gave up squirming and instead tried to sit as still as possible, knowing she must feel impossibly heavy on Derek's lap. "I can't believe you're seeing me like this," she whispered as her sobs began to subside.

Realization dawned on Derek and suddenly it all made sense: Penelope's insistence to only try on shoes, her obvious discomfort when he suggested the dress, and now her meltdown when the dumb thing didn't fit. He thought she was absolutely perfect; it had simply never occurred to him that she might be so insecure. "Oh, Garcia," he said quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around her in a hug. "Stand up, Baby Girl."

Penelope anxiously complied, and Derek stood up as well. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the ground to avoid looking at Morgan or the mirror, and was caught completely off guard when she felt Derek start to peel the dress off her shoulders and down her hips.

"God, no, please," she protested as her tears threatened a repeat performance, but he ignored her and continued to tug the dress off. When she felt the fabric pool around her ankles, she stepped out of the dress, still not meeting Derek's eyes in the mirror.

"Screw this dress," he said with quiet indignation as he tossed it into the corner of the room. Penelope gave a soft, shaky laugh.

"I swear, Derek," she began, trying to keep her tone light but failing miserably, "if you say 'it's not you, it's the dress,' I might smack you."

Derek grinned and stepped a little closer to Penelope. "Trust me, Garcia," he whispered seductively, "it's definitely you."

Penelope gasped in disbelief as she felt his obvious arousal pressed against her behind. She was a fat, blubbering mess - how the heck was he turned on by this?

"You're beautiful, Penelope," he assured her, "and incredibly sexy."

"But-" she stammered, but Derek interrupted her with a laugh.

"Oh, yeah, it's pretty phenomenal," he said with an appreciative glance at her behind, "just like the rest of you. You don't have to believe me right now, Baby Girl," he added when he saw the doubtful look on her pretty face, "But you are obligated to let me convince you."

"Oh yeah?" She challenged, and Derek's heart soared as he saw the light begin to flicker back into those beautiful brown eyes.

"Definitely."

Penelope turned around in his arms and spent a moment just staring into his eyes, searching for any hint that he was being less than sincere. To her slight surprise, he seemed absolutely convinced that she was the sexiest thing on the planet. She gave him a small but seductive smile as her confidence began to return.

"Let's get out of here, then, Hot Stuff," she purred, reaching for her own dress and slipping into it without breaking eye contact. "I think you've got some convincing to do back at my place."

Derek laughed deeply and watched as she zipped up her dress and stepped into her shoes.

"Hey, Penelope," he said softly when she was ready to go.

When she looked up, she didn't have a chance to respond before Derek was pressing his lips against hers, kissing her like she'd never been kissed before, like a man who could barely keep his hands off of her.

She'd never felt sexier in her life.

Thank God the dress hadn't fit.