Chapter 3

Penelope turned to see Derek staring down at her, his gaze intensely boring into hers as she met his eyes. He was displaying a myriad of emotions; things that she could read as clear as day, but others wouldn't catch. There was definite anger-anyone with eyes could see that-and barely leashed frustration on his countenance. Not as obvious, but a close second, was lust. He wanted her, which didn't surprise her, either-she wanted him, too.

But the hurt-raw, aching pain like she hadn't seen in his expression ever before-that was what stopped her heart, and made her gasp. She'd been aching over this and longing for a solution to their limbo; she hadn't expected the same from him.

Obviously, she'd been wrong.

"Baby Girl, we need to talk."

JJ looked at Emily. "I think that's our cue..."

Emily was already scrambling to her feet. "Two steps ahead of you, blondie."

Penelope's heart was in her throat; she wasn't ready for this, whatever this was. She needed her friends' support, she needed protection, and she needed to run. She didn't need to hash this out with him right now, not when her heartache was still so raw or when he was so angry-looking.

In a panic, she reached out for JJ's pant leg and choked out, "Don't go."

JJ gave her a warm, encouraging look. "Garcie, you have to do this on your own. Hear him out."

"Come on," Em urged, reaching for JJ's arm, tugging her away.

Penelope watched them scurry out of sight, as a cold wash of dread flowed over her. She could feel Derek watching her, but she didn't turn to meet his gaze. Instead, she looked back over at the street again, staring straight ahead. There was nothing there, just an empty sewer grate, which matched the abandoned feeling she had.

It didn't take long for Derek to plop right next to her on the curb, the jingle of loose change in his pocket and his keys rattling as he sat. He was so close he was pressed against her side from hip to shoulder. Immediately, she felt warmth, soul deep warmth that only came from contact with him, a complete contradiction of what she had been feeling.

It had always been that way between them, touchy-feely, needing to be near each other. It gave her strength, support, the ability to do her job day to day. It gave her security, the feeling that everything would be alright, even when the world was going to hell in a hand basket. That feeling—an emotional high, not too unlike a drug—inspired her to be who she was every day: the oracle of Quantico, the goddess of supreme knowledge, and—last but not least-Derek Morgan's Baby Girl.

They didn't say anything for a long time, just sat there pressed against each other, absorbing each other's energy. She knew deep down this was as hard for him as it was for her. She didn't like conflict of any sort; she had a definite pacifist nature. Derek never seemed to mind conflict in the past, but it was rare for them to have any disagreements with each other. Rather the opposite: it was Morgan and Garcia against the world many days.

She didn't know what to say, and Derek remained quiet also. She expected him to get angry at her again, to tell her she was being foolish or something. His remaining silent did not calm her nerves or make her feel better.

Finally, she drew a long breath in, and started with the first thing she thought of saying. "I'm disappointed in you, Derek."

After she'd said it, she grimaced internally. God, she sounded like his mother, not the woman who someday wanted to be his lover, and maybe his wife. She shouldn't chastise him; he was a grown man, for heaven's sake!

"That makes two of us."

"You're disappointed in me?" She frowned and glared at him, but he didn't look back at her. "What did I do?"

He hung his head low as he shook a negative. "Nothing, baby. It's not you. I'm disappointed in myself."

A new ache entered her heart and soul as she realized all the anger she saw in him, and probably the frustration, had nothing to do with her. It was how he felt about himself.

He was holding his hands together, watching them intently, occasionally brushing some imaginary flaws away. He looked as miserable as she felt, and he looked nervous. It was so unlike her suave, sure stud to be exhibiting that behavior; it made her heart hurt to watch him.

She wished she could tell him it was okay, to make this all better, and that everything was fine…but she knew that it wasn't.

A moment later, he looked up at the street, staring out into the blankness that she'd been looking at moments ago, a bleak look on his face. "I can't do it."

Seeing his lack of faith did things to her. It revved her up. She needed to be his cheerleader more than ever now.

"Yes you can," she encouraged, trying to be uplifting, putting an arm around his waist and giving him a squeeze.

"Penelope," he said softly, looking at her with his sad brown eyes, "the one thing I want more than anything in the world is within my grasp…and I still can't quit."

Penelope's heart sang when he said the first part, and sunk when he'd said the next. Still, she continued being encouraging. "Derek, you're the most disciplined man I know. You have the body of a Grecian statue. Not many men can claim that."

He grinned at her. "Like my body, huh?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Stay on topic, Hot Stuff."

He looped his arm around her and squeezed her this time. "I know. Just teasing."

Sighing, she thought about what he'd just done, how warm and natural it was, even when they were angry at one another. It was one of the things that was going to make them perfect together…

Once he quit.

Her heart ached again...Damn it.

"Derek, why can't you quit?" she asked.

He stared at her for a long time, and she could tell that he was trying to think, to summarize what he was feeling. He let out a big sigh, and then ran his hands over his face. Finally, he said, "This is going to sound lame….but I don't know. Habit, I guess. I just need to do it. It started when I was in school, and it escalated when I became a detective. A lot of detectives smoke."

"Peer pressure?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."

"What triggers your smoking?" she asked, tilting her head to look at him quizzically.

"Baby," he said, arching a brow at her, "are you profiling me?"

She nodded. "Yup."

That earned her another squeeze before he continued, "I tell myself nothing will trigger it, that I am stronger than that." He gave her a disgusted, self-depreciating look. "Then I get weak. I get frustrated, angry, and fucking pissed. I walk out of a victim's mother's house after watching her cry, and I want to light up when I get to the truck. I stay up late writing a report, and I want to reward myself by lighting up. I'm home alone at night, and I want to relax, unwind..."

"That's not weak, angel fish," she said. "That's being human."

"No, it's weak," he said, scoffing, his anger at himself still showing strong. He looked away for a second, and then glanced back with an urgent look. "I have to quit."

"Yes, you do."

"I want you, baby," he growled fiercely, intensely, "more than life itself."

"I want you, too," she answered honestly.

He caught her gaze with his, the deep longing there causing her heart to skip a beat.

"You're the first thing I think about every morning, all day…I think about you at work, after work, before I go to sleep. Even sleeping, you're still with me." He cupped her cheek in his hand, brushed his thumb across her cheek. "I dream about you, too."

She closed her eyes, letting herself fall into his caress, his gentle touch…and then she smelled the tobacco on his fingers again.

She pulled away from him. "Derek, I can't be with you if you smoke."

"Other people have faults, too, sugar," he snapped aggressively. "Lynch ate bacon doughnuts, dressed like shit, and forgot your birthday."

"That was Kevin," she snapped back. "I expect better from you, Derek Morgan!"

He frowned, and then sighed. "Woman, nobody's perfect."

"I don't want perfection; I just want you to grow old with me." She pleaded with him, "You know about my grandpa, D…I can't lose you like that."

She could see the rapid anger, the lashing out that he'd just done, melt away. He looked deflated, somewhat ashamed, bleak again.

"Baby, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "It's just that I tried. I know you hate it. I tried to quit for years. I tried to quit for you, and I just can't."

"Don't do it for me!" she cried, reaching for his hands and holding them in hers. "Do it for yourself. You deserve more than that. You deserve better stress relief than a cloud of smoke. You deserve a long life, not one struggling for breath. You deserve the best in life, Derek Morgan."

She raised her chin, angry, hurt. She was done with this pity party, and she meant business. She rose to her feet and looked down at him. "You deserve me!"

Frustrated, she turned to leave.

"Stop!" He rose quickly to his feet and walked to her, folding her in his arms tightly. "God, baby, I can't watch you walk away twice in one night. That'll kill me. Please…don't go."

Tears rose in her eyes as she clung back to him. "You have to quit."

"I'll try," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I promise I will try. For you…for me…for us. Just don't walk away from me."

She leaned back to give him a questioning look.

"Sweetheart, I've lost faith in myself more times than I can count, but you've never lost your faith in me." His haunted eyes met hers. "When you left me tonight after we'd kissed…"

Now she knew why he lit up when she was leaving; he'd given up. Her heart ached for him, as she reached both hands up to cup his face. "I didn't lose faith in you, baby boy. I was mad, and I wanted you to know there were other options worth far more than Marlboro menthols!"

He hugged her fiercely again. "Never, ever, doubt that you aren't worth more than that."

"That's easy…an ant is worth more than that," she grumbled, causing him to chuckle soundlessly. She could feel him shake slightly.

They held each other like that for awhile, tightly, absorbing each other's strength again, before she asked, "You're really going to quit?"

"I'm going to try," he said. "I can't promise I won't fall off the wagon."

"Sweetheart," she teased, "there are better forms of stress release than smoking, you know."

She could feel him chuckle once more. "Oh, I plan on using those. Frequently."

"Like exercise?" she asked, blinking her eyes innocently as she leaned back to look at him. "Lollipops?"

"Hell, no," he remarked, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I have better ideas to take care of my oral fixation…"

She shook her head and backed away. "Oh, no. No more of that until you've made it official."

Derek grinned at her as he reached into his back pocket…and tossed the partially full pack away into the nearest receptacle. "Better?"

She looped her arm around his waist and leaned into his side with a happy sigh. "Much."

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews and for reading this little story...Hmmm...now that I have finished, I am wondering what that second, smoke free kiss is going to be like? *wiggles eyebrows*...