Because someone needed to write it, so here is a v short drabble. There is innuendo but nothing explicit.

She watched Blake ferry Reid out of the jet and into a waiting taxi. The younger doctor was pressing a tentative hand to the white bandages which wrapped around his slender neck. He could have been killed. Twice.

The blood was pounding in her ears, and she felt overly warm. Was it the jet? A confined space, surely, with two more people than it usually carried, but the door was wide open, and there had been enough room for them all - granted, with Reid's feet on her knees and Cruz pacing the aisle for most of the journey, but...

Garcia's vision was starting to blur. JJ shot her a look, but she brushed it off, knowing that her fellow blonde was rushing to follow Reid and Blake. Not stalk, of course, JJ would never stalk, but Reid had wormed his way into the agent's heart like an annoying kid brother.

An annoying kid brother who had survived two attempts on his life within twenty-four hours.

"You ok, Baby Girl?"

That voice, warm like honey, slipping over her as she stood near the sofa.

Garcia shook her head quickly to get out of her thoughts, and glanced up at Morgan with a hastily-plastered smile on her face. "Sure, Hot Stuff. Never better."

"Alright. Are you gonna get off this plane? I know it's nice and all, but you have your own den to get to."

Strong hands pressed her go-bag into her own. Her own hands that, mere hours ago, had held a gun and pulled the trigger.

She, Penelope Garcia, daughter of hippies, hacker of animal testers, runner of anti-violence support groups, had shot somebody today.

Lost back in her thoughts, she missed the pointed glance that Hotch and Rossi sent their resident super special agent.

"Hey, silly girl," Morgan said gently. "Talk to me. What's the matter, huh?"

She looked up at him and realised that they were now alone on the jet. "We should -"

"Nuh-uh," Morgan told her, and pushed her gently down onto the sofa. "Talk first, disembark later."

Garcia sighed and rested her hands in her lap, wringing her fingers as she stared down at him. "I shot someone today."

"You saved Reid's life today. You saved your own; he would probably have shot you first if you hadn't stopped him."

"I still pulled the trigger. I shot him, Derek! I know what it feels like to get shot, and it hurts, and I inflicted that pain on him, and this is why I don't like firearms -"

"Hey, Baby Girl, look at me." Morgan pressed two warm fingers to her chin and tilted her face upwards. Garcia realised that she had been crying.

Panda eyes were never a good look.

"Look at me."

Obediently, Garcia met Derek's mahogany eyes with her own. His eyebrows were pinched with concern.

"Yes, you shot someone, but he didn't die." He paused as though thinking something over, then chuckled, that broad grin lighting up his face. "Trust you to shoot someone in a hospital! He got help straight away, and both you and Pretty Boy are still breathing because of your quick thinking."

"That's just it, I didn't think! Reid said he had a gun, and I just grabbed his and fired! It was so loud and fast and I just didn't -"

"I'll show you loud and fast if you want," Derek grinned.

"Oh, Derek Morgan, do you know how many fantasies you just shattered?"

"Shattered?"

"I always thought it would be slow and steamy," Garcia told him playfully. "I suppose our magical union was always going to be too good to last."

Morgan chuckled again, and it was like a crackling fire and a popcorn kettle. It was like home. He kissed her hair through smiling lips. "Baby Girl, you acted on instinct to save your friend. These beautiful hands are not tainted by the weapon, and neither is that beautiful soul of yours. Come on, let's go back to your place and get Chinese. Sergio's missing you."

Garcia smiled up at him. "You do know how to treat a girl! There might be hope for us after all..."