CREDENTIALS RETURNED

My name is Ryan Whitfield. The man I've been dating works for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We've been dating the past three months; well, three months, one week and 4 days, but who's counting? He just came out of surgery. The doctor said surgery went as well as it could have gone; they managed to stop the internal bleeding and were able to re-expand his collapsed lung. Looking at him in the ICU, on a ventilator and with tubes everywhere, I'm not reassured. Agent Emily Prentiss told me his family has been notified and is on a plane here. On the rare occasions I allow myself to think of things like meeting someone's family, I never imagined it this way. The BAU team has gone home by now. They offered to stay, but it's been a long night for everyone and there's not much any of us can do now but wait and see. My body longs to sleep, even in this awkward hospital chair, but my mind won't stop. It keeps going over the last few months, day-by-day, moment-by-moment.

A little over three months ago…

"Reid, tell me again why I'm going to this show or whatever it is with you tonight?" SSA Derek Morgan asked Dr. Spencer Reid as their "official" workday was nearing its end.

"It's a lecture and a book launch. The author seems to be very interesting," Reid answered. "You said I needed to get out more, meet girls, I get to choose where and you'd come along."

"Since when did you start listening to me?" Morgan retorted, shaking his head.

A few hours later Reid and Morgan met up outside a medium-sized, modern office building. Huge planters filled with bright green foliage and summer flowers flanked the brightly lit entrance on either side of large glass doors. Just inside the entrance a backlit logo was visible on the wall. It said The Whitfield Group.

Derek Morgan gave the crowd going in a quick once over before turning to Reid, "You don't expect me to follow you around all night, do you? This seems like your kind of crowd. You'll be fine; I'll catch up with you in a bit."

Derek Morgan drifted through the large room carefully picking his way through clusters of people standing around talking. Eventually he spied a door that opened to an empty, outdoor courtyard. At least it seemed empty at first glance. As he entered into the dimly lit square, he noticed a woman sitting in the far corner talking to one of the catering help. From where he stood in the doorway, she appeared to be pretty and her laugh slightly carried through the square. Instead of turning around and meeting up with Reid, he began walking in her direction.

"Ryan, should I bring you out your usual?" asked the uniformed man.

"Thanks, Steven. That'd be great," replied the woman.

"Looks like you have an admirer," Steven said with a big grin filling his face. "It's about time someone found you out here."

"A what? Where?" she responded, picking her head up in surprise. "You know, maybe we're out of crab cakes and they're looking for you."

"Over there, just walked through the door and moving this way. No, definitely looking at you; not a crab cake issue. I think I'll get those hors d'oeuvres now," Steven chuckled as he walked away.

Ryan glanced over in Morgan's direction and smiled. Tall, dark and handsome. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was dreaming, she thought and then congratulated herself on her choice of dress. She had almost remained in the dress pants and blouse she wore earlier to the office and at the last minute decided to change. As she watched his direct stride, Ryan could tell the man was self-assured … very self-assured. She decided the evening might turn out to be remarkable after all.

As Derek Morgan moved closer he saw that the woman was quite pretty, with bright, blue eyes and blond cropped and artfully tousled hair. Her full lips formed an enchanting and playful smile as she watched him walk towards her. The dark blue off the shoulder dress she wore set off her porcelain skin, highlighted her eyes and provided a nice view from where he was standing.

"Hi," she said, as she looked up smiling again into his glinting, dark eyes. "You know the lecture and all that are inside."

"I know, but it looks a lot more interesting out here," Morgan said with a smile and a lift of his eyebrows. He knows how to use those eyes, she thought as she moved over on the stone bench. Ryan was more than willing to carry on the flirtation and was happy to have someone to talk to for part of the evening. "How come you're not inside?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"Me? I'm always out here during these things," she answered. "After you've been to one, you've kind of been to them all. My name's Ryan, by the way."

"Derek Morgan," he replied in return.

"Well, Derek Morgan, how did you end up here tonight?" Ryan asked. Before Morgan could answer, Steven, the caterer, returned with appetizers and drinks for two.

"Ryan, here you go," Steven said leaning in as he put the tray down and whispered to her, "I brought extra just in case; looks like I was right."

"Thanks, Steven," Ryan answered, avoiding direct eye contact with the caterer. She knew if she looked up she would probably turn seven shades of red and it was nowhere near dark enough to hide it.

Ryan offered Morgan one of the drinks and some food as Steven walked away. "One of my colleagues asked me to come along," Morgan said with a slight laugh. "He's inside. How about you? Dressed like that, there's no way I'd let you out of my sight, too risky. Either your date isn't too smart or you have another reason for being here?"

"I work for The Whitfield Group; we're launching the book, doing promotion and all that fun stuff. My job includes putting these things together, so I sort of have to be here. Not abandoned by an inattentive date," she told him and laughed again. "Try this spinach-artichoke puff, it's killer … and I'm glad you like the dress."

Morgan took one and popped it in his mouth, "That is good."

"Isn't it? Every time there's something going on at the office, I make sure these are always on the menu," she laughed. "So what do you do when you're not being dragged along to book launches?"

"I work for the FBI in the BAU – Behavioral Analysis Unit. That's the unit that develops the profiles to catch serial killers, arsonists and overachieving bad guys. We also occasionally get called in to help on kidnapping cases," he answered. "What makes you think I was dragged along?"

"A lot of our clients are in the healthcare and education fields. You're not what I usually see walking around these events," she replied letting her eyes run over him. He was wearing black trousers with a burgundy dress shirt and looked better than handsome, if there was such a thing. Ryan was also quite sure Derek Morgan would look very good in anything … and possibly nothing. "They're usually much more… scholarly; patches on the sleeves and all that. You seem more apt to be spending your evenings getting your groove on with all the ladies down at Luxe."

Ryan watched for his reaction before she said anything else. If she was correct he was used to women falling all over him. She wasn't going to be one of them no matter how interested she was, but she didn't want to offend him either. She was happy to see a smile spreading across his face as he laughed. "All the ladies?"

"Um-hmm," she replied with her eyes flashing and an impish grin. "I bet they love your badge."

"I only show that to the ones I really like," he countered enjoying the banter and her laughter.

"So you're a profiler? With all the deadlines I deal with, I thought my job was stressful," she said changing the subject and being more serious. "I think you have me beat. Is it as bad as I imagine?"

"It gets pretty intense at times," Morgan agreed. They continued talking and eventually noticed the noise from inside had quieted down considerably. Morgan checked his watch.

"Time flies," Ryan chuckled as she leaned over and saw the time.

"Yeah, it does," he responded. "I had a really great time tonight."

"Me, too," she answered.

"Would you mind if I called you sometime?" Morgan asked.

"I'd really like that," she said and pulled a card and pen out of the small handbag she had stashed under the bench. "Here's my card. Office number on the front, cell is on the back."

He took the card from her as they stood and put it in his pocket. He let her walk in front of him towards the door into the office building. "Ryan, thanks again for a great night," Morgan said as they reached the doorway.

She looked up at him and grinned, "I'm glad you decided to come tonight, Derek. Thank your friend for me." In the darkness and privacy of the courtyard doorway, he bent his head and kissed her. Ryan was a bit surprised by the kiss, but it definitely wasn't unwelcome and it definitely was one of the better ones she had received. His lips pressed against hers softly as if he was tentatively waiting for her reaction. When she didn't pull away his mouth slowly explored hers until a sound in the distance interrupted the moment.

At the front door of the building, Morgan met back up with Reid. "Where did you get to? I didn't see you anywhere in there," Reid asked and looked around. "Okay, Morgan, how many phone numbers did you get tonight?"

"Just one," Morgan replied nonchalantly.

"Wow! You had an off night." Reid answered.

Morgan pulled the card Ryan had handed him earlier that evening out of his pocket, looked at it and placed on the nightstand. Seconds later he picked it up again, flipping it over and over in his fingers. Ryan Whitfield. She never mentioned her name was the same as the company, not that it mattered to him. After several minutes of internal debate he picked up his cell phone, flipped it open and dialed.

At home, Ryan jumped as her cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Derek. You said you'd probably be at the office late and most likely alone. I'm just wanted to be sure you got home alright," he said quickly coming up with an excuse for his call.

"I got in a short time ago," she answered and wondered if she was imagining this too. On the drive home, she found herself looking forward to the possibility of Derek calling but she knew he probably had enough phone numbers from women to make a book inches thick.

"I was wondering if you would like to have dinner tomorrow, if you don't have plans?" Morgan asked.

"I'd love to," Ryan answered.

"I'll call you tomorrow and we'll work out the details, if that's alright? I never really know how my day is going to go," he told her.

"Sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night, Derek Morgan," Ryan said into her phone before disconnecting the call.

"Night, Ryan Whitfield," Derek replied.