A/N: I am starting to wonder whether people might not maybe expect a bit too much from this LOL Thank you guys anyway...

warning: slight explicit content. Nothing too bad or too graphic - just to be on the safe side

She sat down next to him, wondering how exactly this would go now. Would he just start talking and pretend he'd be one of her customers? If so, she might as well go into hiding. Just the thought made her blush. And never in her life would she have thought this would be something she'd ever do – nevertheless with her best friend.

She looked at him expectantly. He after all suggested that they have a 'conversation' so it would only be fair to let him tell her how that conversation would go, or start for that matter. Or maybe he just meant that she'd start talking and every once in a while he'd make some noise.

Looking at him, how he sat on her couch she was pretty certain that was what he had in mind. There wouldn't be an actual conversation. And maybe she should stop referring to moaning down a receiver as conversation.

The challenging look he threw her should have told her everything she needed to know. It was no secret that Derek Morgan loved a good challenge, as much as Penelope did. And both of them love nothing more if it was the other one who challenged them. And right now he was challenging her to do this and there was just no way to back down. Not from this. Not when he looked at her like this.

"Okay," she said, sitting up a bit more and looking at him. "Let's do this, Stud."

He just grinned at her, probably not entirely convinced they finally were at a stage of the evening when this was going to happen.

"Hi," she heard herself nearly moaning, deciding she could just right start off that way. Judging by the way Morgan looked at her he didn't seem to disagree. "What can Candy do today to make your night better?" she asked, suppressing the urge to laugh. Oh god, if she'd ever answer a call like that she wouldn't even make it through the first minute. And of course, if her dear best friend thought he'd be off that easy with just making some noises every once in a while he was mistaken. If he wanted this, he would have to get as involved as she was.

He looked at her surprised for a moment, before grinning again. "What are you wearing, Candy?" he asked.

"Whatever you want me to wear, baby. Tell me what it is you want me to wear and I'll get it."

This was supposed to be a pretended phone conversation – regardless of their actual reason or topic – but that didn't stop either Penelope or Morgan from holding each other's stares.

"I want you to wear nothing. Nothing at all, other than a deep red lipstick on your lips and a pair of stilettos," he answered, still looking at her. "So whatever it is you are wearing, lose it!" And his last sentence sounded almost like a command. "Once you are done, sit down in a chair, put your feet up on the table and lean back, relax and wait…"

Penelope looked at him curious. What on earth was he up to? How was she supposed to 'pretend' that? Especially when he was sitting in front of her. Should she just say 'done' and then move on? It certainly was worth a try.

"Done. All I wear is a pair of deep red stilettos and a matching lipstick. Tell me what else you want and I'll make all your dreams come true tonight." She wasn't sure where any of this came from, she didn't even need to think, didn't even have time to blush about any of this, because it felt so very natural. "Do you want me to touch you? Or maybe you want to touch me? Do you want to feel my fingers running down your skin? Circling your nipples and trailing further down, brushing over the first trail of dark hair that leads to promising territory? Do you want to feel my soft and heated skin under your fingertips, the feel of my pleasure and need for you? Or do you want to feel my lips on you, all over you?"

Morgan waited a moment, before he answered, grinning at her and maybe she should worry.

"I want you to touch yourself. Spread those legs and pretend that these ten gorgeous fingers of yours below are me. Tell me how it feels, tell me how good it is."

For a moment she looked at him astonished. That she for sure hadn't seen coming. What the heck was she supposed to do now? This would have been the time when she'd started blushing like hell. Penelope wished she could say he just made this up, that this would have been the worst scenario to come across, the worst guy that could call in. But from all the calls she had taken over the last few weeks, there were more than enough guys that said things just like him or close enough at least.

"Tell me how wet you are for me, baby. Tell me how much you want this," she heard him continuing before she had a chance to actually respond to his initial answer. And for a moment she struggled for an answer. An answer other than 'Um … well…'

"I want this so much. I want you so badly. It feels so good, I really wish these fingers could belong to you. I wish it would be you who'd do this, who bring me all this pleasure, who'd hit all the right spots. I'm feeling so good and so close. How they… how they go in and out. How they create this … friction," she went on, stumbling for a moment over her own words and just like that the temperature in Penelope's apartment raised a few hundred degrees.

"Tell me you are close. Tell me you are about to come."

Penelope never in her life before had to fake an orgasm. Not even with any of the guys that had called in so far. They were all way more focused on their own release, that they got what they called in for and that was most certainly not hearing how she came. She knew handling this as if she was with Kevin right now wouldn't get her anywhere either. When she was with Lynch and they had made love her orgasms were rather unimpressive. She had read enough articles in enough women's magazines to know there were bigger things in store if you'd do it properly. She knew if she'd fake the kind of explosion she had always experienced with Kevin, Morgan wouldn't be very impressed. He probably would tell her to go and try again.

"I am, I am so close, stud," she said, deciding that would maybe buy her some time. Time to figure out how to finish this.

"I can feel it, slowly coming over me. Oh God, it's just… uh ... so good … just…ohhh," she started, deciding to just try moaning and groaning like hell, as well as throwing in some 'oh god's' and 'so good'. Maybe that would be enough. But looking at Morgan, he was a guy for whom a few 'Oh god's' and 'so good's' would never be enough. She moaned a few more times, closing her eyes all of a sudden for no particular reason and decided to finish this. Now.

"Oh god, Just like… just like that. Yeah… uh… oh… feels … feels so good," she kept saying, over and over again. And maybe she was overdoing it now, but she couldn't care. This was the best she could think of and it had to do. If Derek Morgan had any issues with her fake orgasm he certainly could teach her how to do it better.

And just like that it was done. She at least hoped so. And one look at her best friend and yeah, he was done. He looked at her with a strange expression, one that Penelope wasn't entirely able to name.

She would never tell him what all of a sudden had come over her and made her do this. Neither would she ever tell him that the 'someone who gets her blood boiling, her body to go all haywire and makes her go and throw caution to the wind' – as he put it earlier - was not Brad Pitt or some other random person, but rather Derek Morgan himself. That little secret was maybe best kept away from him.