(This is a sort of follow-up to "Don't Take Me For Granted" and therefore is Morgan/Garcia-centric. There's not really a case in this one, but hopefully that won't keep people from being interested and reading. I meant to start on a sequel of sorts sooner, but the right idea took a while to present itself, and I've been really short of time to get it down on paper. But anyway, here it is and I'd love to know if you're still interested in this little drama I've got going on in my head 

This takes place after the first episode of season three roughly, when we didn't know what exactly was going to happen with Gideon, and I was still rolling around what I thought would happen in my mind.

Of course, I don't own the show or any of these lovely characters, and I can only wish that there would be a real Morgan and Garcia relationship to match their chemistry on the show.)

Chapter One

November 30th

It had been a long day, and he was tired. Bone-weary, discouraged, and possibly even just a little disgusted with the way things were going. It had been a rough week, perfectly capping a hellish month, and Derek Morgan was almost to the point of wondering how he and his five teammates and friends had managing to keep plodding along.

'Mostly because we feel like we have to,' he answered himself with swift realization almost as soon as his mind posed the question. 'Because we've taken on beating back what darkness we can as a responsibility, and none of us are willing to stop even if right now we all want to.'

Nearly two months had passed since Gideon…well, two months had passed without Gideon in their midst; encouraging them, mentoring, healing, helping, and offering his sage advice and insight. A suitable replacement hadn't been found – they were still functioning as a team of six and Morgan didn't see that changing any time soon. Gideon wasn't someone easily compensated for or equaled.

And then there was the fact that the higher-ups were gunning for Hotch. Like they needed that turmoil on top of everything else. They wanted to call Hotch reckless, say that he'd lost control of his team, when nothing could be further from the truth. Hotch's leadership was all that was keeping things under control; all that was holding them together and making it possible to keep getting their jobs done. Without him, the BAU would have fallen apart two months ago when they lost Gideon – or any day since then for that matter. If the brass wanted to blame Hotch for not choosing Gideon's successor, or any other number of false charges they wanted to lay at his feet, they could, there was no way he any of the rest of the team could stop them, but if they ousted Hotch, they were asking to see their best profiling team crumble beyond repair.

With a sigh, he rubbed a weary hand over his eyes and stood, turning off the desk lamp and vowing to leave the rest of the never-ending paperwork he'd been attempting to wade through for another time. He was ready to go find Penelope and get the hell out of Dodge.

He snagged his jacket off the back of the desk chair he'd vacated, remembering the chill wind from when he had entered the Bureau offices that morning, and knowing snow had been predicted for the evening.

The bullpen was mostly quiet. He'd noticed Emily leaving out of the corner of his eye some twenty minutes ago. She'd looked exhausted, with bags under her pretty, but incredibly solemn, dark eyes. He hoped she found better sleep tonight than he had been getting lately.

He gave Reid a nod, seeing the young genius was still hunched over his desk with a focus and concentration that made stopping for the night seem needless. Morgan had noticed that Reid had started staying later and later more often ever since he'd lost his mentor. Morgan knew that Reid felt like he was in the FBI because of Gideon drafting him and bringing him along. He'd looked up to the man in every aspect – not that they all hadn't – but Morgan also realized that for Reid it was more than that. Gideon was the true father figure he'd had in his life, and he loved the older man as any son would love their father. He had tried, several times, to talk to Reid about it, to check on him, or try to cheer him up and get him to come out somewhere with he and Garcia to blow off some steam. But Reid had made it very clear that this was something he didn't want to – or couldn't – talk about yet.

Well, that wasn't something he could fix tonight. He was beat, and for now, he was going to worry about taking care of himself and that beautiful tech kitten he now called his girlfriend. Maybe tomorrow he'd see if she had managed to get anything out of their young teammate. He knew that Reid sometimes wandered down to sit with her in her computer haven to take a break, or perhaps just because her presence cheered or comforted him.

Morgan smiled warmly, only he knew how amazing her comfort could truly be, he thought, heat running through his veins as he tapped lightly on her office door, letting her know he was there. She hadn't said that it frightened her in so many words, but after her abduction and the ordeal with her stalker, Morgan no longer tried to playfully sneak up and startle her as he'd used to do. It simply wasn't funny to see her jump in surprise now that he'd seen her really and truly terrified. It was no longer even something he could contemplate, to imagine being that afraid for her again.

She swung around in her swivel chair, grinning broadly as she turned from the computer to see her gorgeous boyfriend smiling at her happily as he leaned against the doorframe. She'd never thought she would be able to call him hers.

"Ready to pack it up for the night, Mama?" he asked easily, as he crossed the room to lean down and press a quick kiss to her forehead.

"You betcha, just let me shut this last search down, Profiler Man," she answered, giving him a wink as she turned back around.

He chuckled good-naturedly at her, tugging a long, blond corkscrew curl gently and then rubbing her shoulders with his large, muscular hands, hoping to help speed her along. Suddenly, he couldn't stop wanting to touch her, and he knew exactly what he was going to do to get both of them relaxed once they got home.

She let out a little groan of pleasure at his touch, and his stomach lurched, wanting to take her right there on the floor when she made sounds like that. "Hold your horses, Stud Muffin," she teased, giggling, and, he realized proudly, obviously blushing.

Finally, the last program on her last "baby" had been shut down for the night, and she stood, grabbing her zebra-striped purse as she turned to really look into his face, lips pursed as she scrutinized his handsome features. She could see almost immediately that something was troubling him, but she knew him well enough to know that that had been the case for some time now. Dropping all pretenses of teasing, even flirtatious nicknames, she whispered, "What is it, Derek?" cupping the side of his face in her hand.

He leaned into her touch gratefully, loving that someone finally knew him deep down, almost enough to seemingly read his mind, and knew every secret, and loved him anyway. She wasn't going to accept the answer he was about to give her, but it was the only one he had. First, for a moment longer, he simply closed his eyes and savored the way her caress had already made him feel better. "Nothing, really," he responded at last. "Rough day, is all."

She arched an eyebrow at him, skeptical, debating whether or not to let it go for now or not. "Don't keep it from me, if you need to talk about it," she urged, realizing that she was treading thin ice. He didn't share his problems or emotions often, and she felt privileged that he came to her when he needed comfort, even if he couldn't express what was wrong. Yet, sometimes when she pressed, and he eventually spilled, she could tell it took a weight off his shoulders, so she was certainly going to try.

He shook his head as if to ward her off, signal that he couldn't now, not yet, and she sighed, not forgetting it, but giving him room to handle it on his own…for now. Morgan saw her look and hated making her feel shut out, but he honestly didn't know what to say, or how to put what was troubling him into words. Instead, he wrapped her up in his arms, and began to kiss her neck, trailing his lips down along her collarbone, until he heard her breathing go ragged and her head seemed to loll over on his shoulder, clearing a path for his tongue and teeth to have their way with her.

Smiling against her skin, Morgan made his voice rumble the way he knew gave her the shivers when he spoke lowly in her ear. "I need something else from you right now, way more than I need to talk. I think it'll make us both feel a whole lot better."

To her credit, Penelope Garcia caught on quick, and she didn't waste time forming much of a comeback, she just grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door saying, "Well, then, let's get out of here!"