Chapter 2

AN: Great question was brought up by a reviewer if Morgan and Garcia had movie nights. I always drew my inspiration from this episode: "Legacy" in Season 2. The whole team was watching this silent movie. But only Morgan and Garcia are cuddling! Still setting the scene before the nuts and bolts. Bear with me...

Penelope woke in the middle of the night absolutely cotton-mouthed. Too much wine did that to her. She had to sneak into the kitchen and get a glass of water without waking Morgan. She slinked, rather stealthily she thought, into the kitchen and got her drink.

She crept past the couch and heard him groaning in his sleep. Poor Derek, he slept so fitfully sometimes, it broke her heart. Nightmares made him call out; she was always there to soothe him through it. She placed her cup of water down. She wandered over to the couch, to touch his brow, when she heard what he was saying.

"Oh, baby, yeah." She blushed when she heard this. This was definitely not a nightmare. Lucky girl, she thought. She turned to go to her room, when the next words made her pump her brakes. "Baby girl."

Was he talking to her? That was impossible; his eyes were shut. She clutched her hands to her throat, and her mouth went even drier. It couldn't be, could it? Never in a million years would sexier than sin Derek Morgan be having dreams about her.

She shook her head, and frowned a little. Maybe he called other women, "Baby Girl." That was a very unpleasant thought. She couldn't think of anyone that he…

"Mmmm, Penelope."

She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing and her eyes were as round as saucers. Oh my God!

She never really thought of herself in that capacity with Morgan. Well, of course she did (what woman wouldn't?), but not seriously. He seemed so out of her league. Sure, they flirted, but he was so beautiful, and sexy, and kind, and caring, and protective, and gentle. He was… he was… perfect.

Why would someone who looked like him, a statuesque god of sculpted chocolate thunder, be dreaming of her?

Her heart lept a bit, but she quelled it. She would never be foolish enough to pin her heart to someone so obviously out of her league.

But that didn't stop her from grinning as she walked back to her bed.

Derek woke the next morning with the crappiest hangover he ever had. What was it with women and wine, anyway? Something about red wine gave him the worst hangovers. He glanced over at the coffee table, grateful for the half glass of water sitting there.

She must've brought it in the middle of the night, which meant that he must have been having nightmares again. He shook his head. It had been months since the last time he had one of those.

He got up, pulled on his jeans, and knocked on Penelope's bedroom door. "You decent in there?"

"Yes."

"Too bad," he said, opening the door and smiling a wicked grin at her. He watched her cheeks turn scarlet in a heartbeat. That was a little odd. She never blushed at his innuendoes.

Penelope was dying. A half naked Derek Morgan was sitting on the edge of her bed, and she was tongue tied. She couldn't think of a word to say. She didn't know it would be this hard facing him, after what she heard last night. His bare chest took her breath away. She was just so much more aware of him this morning.

"I know you heard me last night," he said bluntly. She turned pink up to her hairline.

"It's okay, Derek," she said quickly. "We don't have to talk about it.."

"Baby," he said, smiling at her, placing his hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I know it must have been one helluva nightmare to bring you in to take care of me." He leaned in to give her a chaste kiss. "You're my angel."

Thank God the phone rang to bring her mushy mind back to some semblance of order. "G-Garcia. Oh, hi Kevin. No, Derek's here. Yes, I'm sure he's probably leaving soon…"

Derek stood up and played with the knick knacks on her dresser, trying to give her some privacy. It was just as good; he was working to get the disappointment off his face. Stupid Lynch. Pen was off and on with him for the past year, more off than on. This must be one of the "on" periods. Lynch just… chafed him. His name even bothered him, like a noose around his neck.

Why didn't she see she could do so much better? Lynch didn't appreciate her. He pussyfooted around her, whimpering about their relationship. He knew; Penelope always told him, and he usually talked her into dumping his sorry ass.

"Derek?" she said, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. "I really have to talk to him about some important stuff. I'll see you Monday." She went back to her conversation. When he reached the doorway, she looked up to smile her goodbye at him. She caught his expression, something poignant she couldn't read, before he changed it to his trademark Morgan grin.

And then he was gone.