A/N- Hello everyone! This was supposed to be a short, humourous one-shot for my friend Falc's 'One-Shot Fridays'. What it became was a plot bunny that just wouldn't quit. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are loved as always, and this story is dedicated to anybody who has ever written me a review. Constructive criticism, errors, praise, I love it all. A quick update on my ongoing sotry 'The BAU: Lost in London'. It is coming, I promise! Now that this is finished, I'll get back to work on it.

Thanks :D

sparks x

Let It Snow

The computer chirruped as the envelope icon flashed on Morgan's screen. He glanced at it, wondering who on earth would be emailing him now. It was New Years Eve! It was bad enough that he was stuck here finishing up paperwork from the case they had wrapped in Kentucky that morning, but if somebody really thought that he'd pick up another piece of work, they had another thing coming-

The screen chirruped once more in a most insistent tone.

Groaning inwardly and berating himself mentally the whole time, Morgan begrudgingly clicked on the offending icon. It read:

You have 1 new message, from P Garcia. Open?

He opened the message.

Hey Beautiful

Look outside. Seriously, go do it. NOW!

You'd better be walking. Oh… look at that fine ass go! Anyway, did you SEE? SNOW! Proper, actual, 'walking in a winter wonderland' snow. Frakking SNOW! So here's what's going to happen.

You're going to close the file. Put it in the draw. Close the draw. Lock the draw and swallow the key. Move your cute booty down to Esther, and I'll meet you there. I think we need an adventure.

Did I mention that all of this is totally non-negotiable?

G x

Morgan glanced at the almost finished file. He could work… or go have festive snow fun with Garcia. Well, it wasn't exactly Sophie's Choice now, was it? Plus, if there was anything he'd learned over his time working in the BAU, it was one does not disobey the Lady of all Technological Wizardry. Morgan shivered at the thought, and slipped the file into a desk draw. Grinning, he grabbed his coat and began to make his way out of the building. One thing was for sure, when Garcia was in charge, anything could happen.

*

A small hand snuck itself around his, and gave a gentle squeeze. Morgan turned and was greeted by the sight of Garcia smiling widely, fully bedecked in technicolour winter glory.

"I like the earmuffs." He commented, looking at the wildly fluffy, zebra print contraptions.

"Yeah, I thought they might be too much, but then I figured, when has that ever stopped me?" They snickered at the thought. "Now come on sugar, we have numerous places to go, and a hell of a lot to see."

As Morgan reached for the car door, she shook her head. "Honey, there's a lot of things Esther will put up with, but four inches of snow just isn't one of them. We go on foot good sir!"

As they walked, the snow crunching under their feet and snowflakes stinging their faces, they chatted about this and that, and exchanged the latest gossip. It was mostly from the Christmas party which had taken a little over a week ago.

"So… did you hear about Reid and the woman from Organised Crime?"

"Girl, nobody needed to hear about them, we all witnessed it with our own eyes!"

"She did kind of… leap on him. But I guess there was mistletoe?"

"Yeah, six feet away. Didn't seem like Reid was complaining too much though."

"Not once he'd finished blushing anyway…"

They both laughed at the memory of Reid going an outstanding shade of tomato, and resolved to get the full story from him when they all met up for drinks tomorrow. They proceeded to stroll along in a comfy silence until suddenly Garcia came to an abrupt halt.

"Aha!"

Morgan looked around, vaguely familiar with where they were. It was a sprawling park, not too far from their building. He passed it when he took the long way to work. He turned to Garcia, a slightly confused look on his face… but she wasn't there. The gate to the park was swinging slightly, and her unmistakable shoe prints showed she'd gone inside.

Derek stepped in after her, and before he could even turn to close the gate something icy crashed into the side of his head, followed by a familiar giggle. He brushed the snow off with his hand, grimacing as droplets of freezing water slid down his shirt.

SMACK.

Hit square in the chest this time, Derek chuckled ominously.

"Oh baby girl… I hope you realise this means WAR."

SMACK.

"Bring it!"

*

The snowball fight was over (Penelope winning, making Derek beg for mercy after she pelted him with a barrage of them) and the two of them had collapsed in a tangled heap after an ill-timed collision in the final showdown. They knew they really should get up, but after running around manically for nearly an hour, they were wiped. So they sat, and once again their hands found each other.

Morgan sighed, slightly exhausted. It had been a busy four days, and the snowball battle, no matter how epic and fun, had pushed him to his limits.

"Where to now, princess? But I have to warn you, if it's a lot of walking, you're going to have to drag my sorry ass there."

Penelope raised one eyebrow in a smirk. "Nothing sorry about it from where I'm sitting… But luckily our next activity involves no walking at all. Time for snow angels!" With that the blonde (well, with pink highlights) flopped back into the snow and began waving her arms furiously. Morgan watched her manic, gleeful movements for a second, before being hit (not for the first time that night) by a face full of snow.

Spluttering, he decided that if you can't beat 'em, join them. Derek threw himself into the undisturbed patch of snow next to him, and began beating his wings with the best of them. The cold seeped into his bones, but his insides felt the warmest they had since Christmas, which had been spent all too briefly with his mother, sisters and one of their fiancée's. Terrifying him had been fun, even if it had gotten him smacked upside the head by Desiree. So worth it.

He opened his eyes to see Garcia hovering over him.

"Done yet? Because I don't know about you, but I'm feeling dinner right now."

Derek's stomach rumbled its approval of this decision and he let himself be pulled to his feet. The two of them slipped and stumbled their way out of the park, leaving behind two angelic imprints in the solace of the growing dark and falling snow.

*

"So Emily and Reid were all 'Gandalf could totally take Dumbledore'. In their freaking dreams! There is not a wizard more proficient in badassery than my man Albus. God. Gandalf! Can you believe that?"

Morgan couldn't help but chuckle at the expression of genuine outrage on his friend's face. Her passion for everything she did, anything she got involved with amazed him. Playing it cool was a notion that Garcia was almost entirely unfamiliar with.

"Whatever you say baby girl. I learnt my lesson not to do battle with you already tonight. I swear some of those snow balls have left bruises…"

Penelope looked at him, sticking out her bottom lip in a mockery of sympathy.

"Poor baby. Now finish that coffee up, the night's still young and so are we. I refuse to sleep before midnight on New Years Eve!" Without waiting for his reply, she firmly plucked the mug from his grasp, and stood up. "I am going to go pay, and sugar you'd better be outside and ready to hit the road when I get back."

Morgan raised his arm and deftly saluted her, collecting their belongings and making his way out. What could the night bring next? It was still snowing and the wind whipped the minute flakes into a frenzy. He couldn't remember the last time it had snowed this hard in DC, especially not just after Christmas. Fairy lights strung around doors and trees glowed, and Derek grinned wryly to himself. Why… it was almost magical.

Derek's cheesy reflections were rudely interrupted by an insistent tugging on his arm. He looked down to see Garcia, wrapped up to the eyeballs in a cherry red scarf, dark lashes peeking over the top. A high pitched muffled noise was emitting from her, and although it was pretty funny watching her get mouthfuls of scarf, he took mercy and pulled it down a little for her.

"Ugh, thanks. Can't do a damn thing with these mittens on."

"It's okay. I know I'm the best friend ever."

"Obviously, angel. Now follow me!"

Derek, tall, buff, and king of the tackles Morgan found himself being bodily dragged down the picturesque street by a 5'4 ball of what was apparently sheer energy, but he also found himself not minding. Not even a little bit.

*

He wobbled a little as he stepped onto the ice, and Derek really wasn't sure that any of this was at all advisable. Why did he let himself get talked into this again? He hadn't been skating since he was a little kid! But no, here he was, strapped to two flimsy shards of metal and about to go sliding about on a frozen rink. All because a blonde bombshell had asked him to. When did he lose the power to say no? And how the hell was he supposed to move without falling over? This whole ice-skating shenanigan was possibly the worst idea ever.

Penelope zoomed past him.

"Isn't this the best idea ever?" She squealed, throwing in a twirl. "I just love when they set these outside rinks up."

For once her enthusiasm was not proving infectious, and Morgan just looked dubiously at his unsteady knees instead of replying.

"Aw baby, you're shaking like Bambi learning to walk! Come on, take my hands. They won't bite, Morgan! Now, push off with your left. Other left. Then right. Yup, that right. Okay, angle your strokes outwards slightly… That's it! You're really getting the hang of it!"

He actually was. What had once seemed a terrifying and daunting task not three minutes ago had been lowered to the level of scary and unfamiliar.

Now that he'd managed to do a whole lap, he was relaxing a little. Festive music playing in the background, the unexpected snow, the lady on his arm… I could definitely get used to this, he found himself thinking. Definitely…

Of course, his thoughts were cut short when the skater (clad in a most unfortunate Christmas jumper) ploughed into him and knocked Derek flying.

*

'A clean break', the doctors had said. Apparently this was a good thing, as it meant his wrist would heal faster and better, but that still wouldn't stop Garcia apologising or attempting to feed him 'get well soon' M&Ms.

"This is my fault! Ice is dangerous, I know that. Gargh, why didn't we just watch Times Square like every other sane person? Then everything would be fine and I wouldn't have just BROKEN you." She hugged him, being careful not to bump Morgan's cast.

"It's okay baby girl, really. I've done worse! In fact, the only thing I haven't forgiven you for is talking me into getting a hot pink cast. You so took advantage of me!"

"It was just so much prettier than the boring ones… I would never let you be boring my unique, wounded and ever so hunky pal."

Slinging (good) arms around each other, the two joked their way out of the ER department, zebra earmuffs, pink cast and all.

*

As Esther and Morgan's car had been abandoned at Quantico, the two of them hopped off the bus at the stop by Garcia's place. She had moved since the shooting, and now lived just above a deliciously quirky fashion boutique. It was perfect for her, except, she was often heard to exclaim, that she now had to resist the urge to shop everyday.

The two of them made there way upstairs, 'to drink all the leftover mulled wine and watch bad TV'. Garcia let them into her little flat. The only way to describe it accurately, Morgan pondered to himself, was that was like a rainbow had eaten too many sequins and exploded as a result. Blinking a little in order to adjust, he headed inside and plonked down onto the couch. Well, for all of a second before Garcia yelled excitedly for him.

"MORGAN! Window! Quick, you'll miss them!"

Intrigued, Morgan came and peered out into the night with her.

"I don't see anything…"

"Any second now."

Derek's next question was answered as a rocket shot into the air, exploding into a fizz of gold and purple. Penelope was captivated, and the sparkles reflected in her eyes.

He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he knew it was very important that he do it right now. It was half a minute into the new year, and he knew how he wanted to spend it.

"Baby girl?"

"Hm?" Getting no response to this, she turned to face him, a curious expression beginning to form. "Derek, what's the mat-"

But she never finished her question, because Morgan chose that moment to duck down and place a small, sweet kiss upon her lips.

She's not kissing me back. Oh God. I've ruined everything. Why isn't she kissing me back?

Barely noticeable at first, Morgan felt a response to his unspoken question. As they pulled apart, smiles filled their faces, and if the answer hadn't been clear before it was now.

"Happy New Year, Derek."

Snow, he decided, was his favourite type of weather.

*The End*

But as long as you love me so…

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow! ~Let It Snow, Ella Fitzgerald.