AN: I wrote this in the middle of "The Birthday Party". A fun, silly, short thing (Seven chapters- that's short for me!). Did some things I normally don't do; I wrote in first person POV and went back in time. Well, hubby talked me into this one (His idea)- and I think it works-So, this is for you, Shawn, and also for Ms. JenRar, who taught me how to write in this POV!

Chapter 1- Quantico, VA 2004
Derek's POV

I noticed her the minute she walked into the bullpen. She had blonde hair, all piled on top of her head in these little squiggly curls, fastened by two chopstick looking thingies. Bright red lips were pursed in concentration as she followed Hotch on a pair of teetering black patent high heels. She was holding a pile of folders and steno pads, and a laptop, almost like she was holding a baby. That computer was obviously important to her.

"Hey," I said to the genius sitting over to my right. "What's that new tech girl's name?"

"Ahhh" Reid looked up and glanced where my eyes were plastered. "Gomez... I think."

Gomez. Reid had to have that wrong. There wasn't an ounce of Latin in that little momma. She looked like your average kid from the suburbs, grown up into one fine looking package.

Unless she was married. That thought popped into my head, and I dismissed it just about as quickly as it came. God might be that unfair to me, but fate wouldn't. And fate gave me the opportunity to meet little Miss Gomez.

Right now, the girl was sitting across from Hotch, typing about a mile a minute at whatever the boss was asking her. I wanted to be a fly on the wall, just to be near her, to hear what she had to say. She peaked my interest like no other woman had in a very long time.

If anyone else was listening, they would've burst out laughing. I am known for having an interest in women. I love them, love the way they are made, love their smell, their soft skin. I am somewhat of a player, I admit it, but women play right back with me. I don't give anyone anything they don't want; they know who they're getting involved with before we ever start dating.

Recently, I haven't been playing as much as I used to. I don't have time to put the effort into a decent relationship with anyone, and one night stands are completely out of the question. I'd had enough of those already in my lifetime. I don't need to be putting myself at risk anymore. Someday I'll find the right girl; I want to be around for that.

Thinking of the right girl had me looking over at Miss Gomez again. She was no longer sitting in front of Hotch. His door was open, and he was leading her over towards the bullpen. From the side, she was gorgeous. From the front, she could stop traffic. She was wearing a lime green, button down shirt and a tight suit jacket. The buttons right in the middle of her chest looked like they were about to pop open.

The woman was stacked, that was for damn sure.

I stood, adjusted my shirt, breathed in my hand to check my breath, and began to smile. If there was one thing about me, I knew I had one hell of a smile. Damn good abs, too. Two unbeatable assets in the ladykiller department. I obviously couldn't show my abs at this moment, so I relied on old standby number two.

She looked over quickly, but didn't linger. I was kind of disappointed. I was lingering over her, but she'd barely glanced at me. She was shuffling files, her fingertips coated in multicolored polish. She was unique, this curvy little sweetheart, and I wanted to know her so badly. My heart was actually beating quicker, thinking about knowing her.

She turned to meet Reid and JJ, then started walking towards the doorway, holding her papers.

"Excuse me, Gomez," I said, wondering why she'd dissed me. She didn't turn. I tried again. "Hey, Baby Girl."

She stopped, standing next to Hotch, then turned and walked towards me. Her little black glasses hid her expression somewhat from me.

"Baby Girl?"

Then I thought about what I said, and almost slapped my forehead for my stupidity. "Forgive me, I just didn't know the real-"

"I 've been called worse" she interrupted, beginning to smile. "What can I do for you?"

At that moment, I realized I wasn't the one with one hell of a smile. That honor belonged to my Baby Girl.

I spent the rest of the week getting to know Penelope Garcia. She was gorgeous, funny, sweet, easy to tease, and busy as hell as our new technical analyst. She could take that title and run with it; I can barely type, and I like it that way. Ain't no way I am getting into the computer age without a fight. Hell, no.

I found out I was right about a lot of things. She was single (I can tell these things from a mile away), she was not Latin (her stepfather was), and she was new in town (she needed someone to show her the ropes). She was a Californian, and had a laid back, California accent. She also had a dirty sense of humor, and loved to flirt back with me nearly as much as I loved flirting with her.

"So, what is your title, anyway, Agent Morgan. Special Agent?"

I gave her an incredulous look. "Supervisory Special Agent, sweetheart. The best of the best."

"Oh, aren't you hot stuff," she said, lowering her lashes at me.

I grinned. "Don't you know it, baby."

She looked at the clock above her desk. "Oh, mercy. It's almost five, and I still have to input this."

"Hot date tonight?" I asked, hoping the answer was no.

"Yes," she answered, smiling. I almost frowned, then she added, "With my nail tech. She is changing my polish for me tonight."

Ah, safe. I grinned at her. "Better not be late. I like my women staying gorgeous for me."

Her cheeks pinkened and she grinned. "Scoot."

"All right."

"See you around, Hot Stuff?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure thing, Baby Girl," I told her, meaning every word. Oh, hell, yes, I'd be seeing her. As much as I could.