She ran into his arms, her bruised, beaten, big damn hero. Although he winced a little on the impact, milliseconds later it was replaced by a smile of pure, unadulterated joy, not a hint of sarcasm, no sign of a snicker. He was beaming, and it seemed to radiate throughout the small dark room.
She was sobbing, those heaving, wracking sobs that feel like they might just pull you to pieces. She had been in pieces, the last two hours had been spent in a state of total worry and panic. You could almost see the marks on the floor where she had paced up and down, almost feel the frustration of being able to do nothing. Papers, pens, work was scattered everywhere in a total contrast to her usual neat freak ways, it had felt as though she was losing control over everything.
The torment of the last few hours left him, the worry simply evaporated. Surely this is where he had always should have been? He was home. Seeing the worry and panic he had (inadvertently, well, mostly inadvertently. One could argue that he should have looked before he leaped) caused gave him strange mixed feelings. He felt awful for doing this to her, but a part of him was astonished by it too. Did it mean what he hoped it did? Quashing the thought, in case he jinxed it, he simply focused on right here, right now.
Her sobs faded to an occasional sliding tear and a hiccup. The constant humming glow of the computer screens was reflected in her tears as she looked up to face him, and the atmosphere seemed to hum as well. They stared into each other's eyes for ten seconds (or was it maybe ten years? It was hard to tell. It was hard to think.) before she looked away. Deep breath. She faced him once more.
"If you ever pull some stunt like that again, I will eradicate your very existence in every way that I know of. I will sell your dog. I will ruin your furniture. I will destroy your clothes. I will then send a crack SWAT team round to beat the crap out of you. Do you understand me?" she placed her hands on the back of his neck, and the atmosphere seemed to crackle in response. "Do you?"
Leaning in until their foreheads brushed, he whispered,
"Perfectly."
Before either of them had anytime to fathom what was happening, what was a good idea, to judge the situation, she kissed him. Finally, she was taking control, making her feelings known. Putting her heart on the line, taking a risk. Too much of a risk? Desperately, she tried not to over think it. Too late.
Have I just ruined everything?
Just as she went to pull away, to find an excuse, to go back to hiding, he circled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. The kiss was fierce and powerful, made of unsaid words and buried hurt. All the bitten back feelings came together to form this, whatever the hell this was, something so strange and so wondrous.
Much like Morgan and Garcia themselves.