AN: I'm glad you all liked the first chapter of this. There will be quite a few surprises character appearance wise in store with this story, but that's all I'm gonna say :)
He loved his job as a cop. Really. It was a rewarding line of work. His father already was a cop back home in Chicago, and Derek Morgan followed into his footsteps much to his mothers protests. His father had died when Morgan was ten when he tried stopping a robbery at their local shop. And his mother feared that Morgan at some point might follow that same fate. With his sometimes reckless actions she certainly had plenty of reasons to keep worrying no matter how often her son kept reassuring her that this would not happen.
Maybe his transfer to D.C. was in one way or the other a way to escape his mother's watchful eyes for a while. It was either her constant worry about him losing his life, or the question when he would give her grandchildren. Either way it usually was a lost battle, because his mother always found a way of sneaking either of two topics – usually even both – into their conversations.
It wasn't as if Morgan had problems finding girls. Quite the opposite, but so far none had crossed his path that would make him see 'forever' in their future. And okay, maybe there was as certain pattern in his woman, but then again with his job he didn't have time to work on anything 'serious'. He had tried that in the beginning. But it became quickly apparent that his then girlfriend had no understanding why he was working so much, or what was so fascinating about some murder investigation. Given, he didn't expect any of them to find the image of blood or gruesome stuff enticing, but they should at least accept that it was part of his job. A job he loved. Unless it was s current dead-end case that didn't leave much for him to do or get done. He had little to no leads and right now; standing in front of the apartment of one Penelope Garcia was his last hope. A hope that quickly became something entirely different when she opened the door.
Her hair messy but yet still cute. She was wearing sweatpants and some t-shirt that seemed slightly too tight in certain areas. And for a moment it was hard for Morgan to pull his eyes away from these certain areas. For a moment he felt guilty. This was a job; he shouldn't spend time checking her out. But when he looked at her, seeing that she definitely was checking him out, that guilt sort of vanished and he stood just a little bit taller. She certainly had a lot going on for her.
"Penelope Garcia?" he asked, wanting to make sure he had the right person.
"Yes, that's me."
"I'm Detective Morgan. Do you have a moment?"
At that she looked surprised for a moment, almost shocked and maybe even a bit panicked. But after a few minutes he saw her expression changing, almost to a grin and Morgan was not entirely sure whether he wanted to know what was going on in her mind. He somehow had an idea that the handcuffs attached to his belt probably played some role in whatever she was thinking about.
"I sure do," he heard her say, leaning against the door frame, all relaxed all of a sudden. "You wanna come inside?" she asked next, slightly moving, indicating for him to step inside. He could have technically done what he came for inside her apartment, but something told him he would be better off for the moment if he declined.
"I'd actually much rather prefer if we could do this downtown," he mustered up after a few moments, seeing her confusing look. That was… different. Most people either throw a tantrum or just came straight with him, but no one ever looked confused. Unless she had expected something else of course, but Morgan wasn't sure what that could have been.
"Downtown? That's … a first. I mean, I've never really had an … um … encounter like this before, but I always thought strippers are supposed to come to you, and not the other way around."
He was about to respond when her words sunk in. Stripper? Did she think he was…? Morgan wasn't entirely sure whether to take it as a compliment or not, but then again, the way she looked at him, it didn't seem like she meant any harm.
"Ex-cuse me?" he almost sputtered. He had heard quite a lot throughout his career. But being mistaken for a stripper certainly was new.
"I have to say that is one hell of a good outfit. It looks like a real one actually. How often do you find yourself in the middle of some girls, trying to rip this of you and having a piece of that?" he heard her asking and actually had to smile. And when he saw her wink he had to admit for a moment he really considered forgetting what he came her for and doing what she thought he came. But only almost. He actually felt a bit bad letting her down like this, especially since she seemed so very keen on that idea. But he had to.
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, ma'am. But I can assure you, I'm real. Detective Derek Morgan, Washington DC PD…" he finally said, retrieving his badge and holding it for Penelope to inspect.
Within seconds all color drained from her face and she looked like she might pass out any minute.
"You're a cop? A … real cop?" she asked shocked and Morgan saw her leaning against the frame of her door, wondering whether he should make a few steps towards her just in case she'd pass out. And maybe he should have broken that news to her softer.
"I … Oh my… I'm… I'm so sorry. I just thought…. seeing that it is my… um… birthday and my friends have a certain history of… unusual gifts…. that you were um…. a gift…" he heard her stammering, avoiding his eyes. Morgan could see her cheeks by now tinted deeply red. Cute. A gift, huh? Oh, if only….
