Morgan struggled to sit up, but he met a strong hand halfway there that pushed him back down.
"I don't think so, cupcake."
He groaned, wincing at how raw his throat was. "I gotta go to work, baby girl."
"You're sick. You're not going anywhere."
"Penelope -"
"Don't you 'Penelope' me, Derek Morgan! You have a fever, and there is no way I'm letting you go into the office today!"
"What if there's a case?"
She glared down at him, hands on her hips. "You can hardly make it to the bathroom! How do you expect to tackle any suspects?"
Morgan glared at her, but most of the power was lost when he was overcome by a coughing fit. Garcia's eyebrows just went up, as though he had just proven her point. When the coughing finally subsided, he took a deep breath.
"I do more than tackle," he protested weakly.
Garcia's expression softened, and she leaned down to tuck him back in. "I know. But right now the only thing you could do was give the suspect a very nasty cold. And the rest of the team, too."
She started to move away, but Derek grabbed her hand. "Where are you going?"
"To work, silly."
He tried to pout. "I'll be lonely all day without my goddess."
Penelope laughed, kissing him on the forehead and trying not to wince at how hot he was. "Trust me, my sweet. I will be more than happy to have my wicked way with you - AFTER you break your fever."
"Promise?"
"Please. Does the Goddess of Awesome ever fail to deliver?"
Derek chuckled, already slipping back to sleep. "Never."
She watched him for a minute and then kissed him again. "Sleep well, my prince," she whispered.