A/N: ITS A BLIZZARD. OH. MY. GOD. SO MUCH SNOW WHAT IS THIS. No, but seriously I really want reviews for this chapter because I worked hard on it (not really) but more reviews means more chapters today. Liked it? Hated it? Mixed feels? Want me pushed in front of a bus? Tell me!

It had been six, long, uneventful weeks since Derek Morgan had last seen Penelope Garcia. In person, that is. She'd made plenty of appearances in his dreams and mind, especially during his morning showers. Nonetheless, he missed her. Her blush, her smile and every other trait that beautiful stranger possessed. And he hated himself for it. She was far better off without him, as Arielle had told him many times, he ruined people.

Derek refused to ruin her.

So, he went on with his life, ignoring the feeling of something was missing. He worked on his marriage, he told his wife everything she wanted to hear, (or thought she wanted) and he went on with his life. Yet, it didn't feel like his life anymore. It felt like he was momentarily filling in for someone, aside from work, he hardly felt like this life was his. Derek pulled his carry on out of his trunk and locked his car, heading inside for this first time since he'd left Monday morning. The sun was beating down on him like a giant pair of eyeballs, watching and judging. Just as he pulled out his keys, he caught sight of his pool boy, peter, walking around the back of the house zipping his pants.

"Peter!" Derek called to the youngster, dropping his carry on and walking over to the dark haired, hazel eyed boy. It was Saturday, and it was rather unusual for him to come on the weekends. Didn't kids have plans these days? He took a few twenties from his wallet and handed them to Peter, smiling warmly. The pool boy looked shocked shitless, but he palmed the bills and took off before the profiler had the chance to ask him anything.

Maybe he did have plans, derek thought, while opening the front door. He was almost immediately alerted by the smell of something burning. He walked to the kitchen and saw arielle sitting at the island, in nothing but an over sized T-shirt that he didn't recognize. What she said next took him back.

"Peter get the bread out, its burning." She giggled, never looking up from her computer screen.

"The pool boy comes in now?" He questioned behind her, and she jumped nearly five feet in the air at the sound of the manly voice.

"Fuck, derek, don't sneak up on me like that. Make some fucking noise, you're not a mouse." She swore harshly, raising from the stool and walking over to the toaster. His eyes followed her stick legs under the shirt, and he wished he had more meat on her bones. He liked a curvy girl, and Arielle looked like she's been starved for months.

Hoping to get the sweet, gentleness back into her tone he walked up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. But she didn't relax into her arms as he'd hoped, but wiggled out of his grip, a scowl on her face. "I'm not in the mood, derek." And just like that she took the toast, the laptop, and moved to the living room to get as far from him as possible.

He opened the fridge and saw it was empty, aside from a half full gallon of milk and some butter. His wife had been surviving on toast until he go back, because derek always did the shopping. He cooked often, too, but they ordered out a lot.

Derek sighed.

He walked up the stairs to his bedroom, eyeing the giant red stains on the bare mattress. Why the fuck had she brought wine into bed with her? They needed a new bed, and they needed sheets. He decided to go shopping, as he stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower.

The water felt soothing against his somewhat strained muscles, and he stood there for a minute, letting the water travel down his body. He closed his eyes and the image of the woman who so constantly invaded his dreams appeared. He was beginning to think she wasn't even real, but the light scar below his knee told him that those moments where not a fragment of his imagination. He groaned as he remember the lust and desire in her beautiful eyes, the way she touched him so gently and caringly. The almost halo that appeared above her curly locks in the fluorescent light. And her lips...oh, her lips. As he thought of her more and more of her Derek Jr. rose to the occasion, and when it became to much, he wrapped his left hand around himself.

A soft moan left his lips and he began stroking, imaging her wonderful mouth closing around him. He went faster and faster as he breath began to shallow, and he thought of her angel like face one more time as came all over himself and the green tiles. The water washed it away, and derek stood there for minute, feeling the empty feeling that had been gone for those few moments return to his chest.

Penelope couldn't decide weather to get ice cream sandwich bars, or a Ben and Jerry crate. Her eyes narrowed and studied, deciding on the whim, the sandwich bars. Well, that was about on the whim as she went, really. The passed few weeks had consisted of job rejections for her, and she was literally down to her last twenty dollars.

She was going to spend it on ice cream and chips and then she was going to go home, and die.

"Excuse me, miss." someone said behind her softly, so soft that she didn't hear them and neglected to move aside. Then in the refrigeration isle of Wal-Mart did her life flash before her eyes. She turned around, ice cream sandwiches in hand, to the employee that was carrying a box of knifes. He nearly lost his stepping at her moment in front of him and the box tipped over, death slapping her in the face quickly before it retreated when the kid, whose name tag read Brad, righted himself. Brad murmured something and walked all the way around the shelves to avoid asking her to move, because he guessed she didn't do well with directions.

"You, Penelope," A voice said beside the frozen peas, "Sure are a piece of work."

Behind her (beside the frozen veggies) was none other than Derek Morgan. She had to admit he looked even more beautiful than she'd remembered him. He was wearing a dark green t-shirt that molded around his arms in a vary, vary appealing way. Matched with a pair of dark jeans, which fit him snugly, (and she wondered how it made his backside look), paired with a simple brown sneakers.

In short, he was amused, and it made blood rush to her cheeks.

Had he seen all of that?

He smirked at her, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile that told her he did.

"You think that's funny? I could've died!" She retorted taking her sandwiches and placing it in her cart with her chips. She blushed again when he walked closer and peered into it. It was nearly empty but the contents it did have made her advert her gaze from him. His eyes widened and his gaze fixated on her, he could see the blush creeping down her neck as she stared at the cereal. His voice dropped to a level on she could hear.

"And what a shame that would've been, babygirl."

Penelope's breath caught in her throat and she nearly suffocated.

He leaned back and watched her reaction. His eyes were caressing her, traveling languidly down her frame and lingered rather inappropriately on the expanse of her chest. And then he licked him lips. She bristled and checked herself, moving her cart and almost running over his legs. Derek was surprised by her sudden departure, and jogged a little to catch up.

She knew she wouldn't get far, and actually running away from this man had people staring at her like she had a gun. She turned into the tampon isle, looking over her shoulder in a almost daring fashion. It was only them and derek took a step toward her. She was trapped. Between lady products and the beige wall, with a beautiful man.

Her eyes were so wide she was sure they'd pop out of her head.

Derek stalked toward her, a look of hunger in his dark, wintry eyes.

"You're..You're married.." She protested as he got dangerously close, his warm chest against her breasts. He knew she was right, he knew he should back away and apologize. But he also knew she wanted this, he could feel it, he could see it, and he couldn't ignore it. He reached out and cupped her face with his hands as though he was hold the most precious thing in the world. He stared at her with wide, shining eyes that tugged at something deep inside her.

What he did next was something they both craved far more than air.

His warm, wet lips were surprisingly soft. And he swallowed her moan as soon as their mouths connected. She pressed into him firmly but gently, her hands sliding up his chest and clutching at the cotton. She pulled his bottom lip in to her mouth, sucking hard and he growled against her, the sound making her knees shake. And then his tongue was in her mouth, fighting and winning against her for dominance. The electricity that surged between them was something neither had experienced before. She could his heart under her his shirt, pounding hard against the skin and into her hand.

Air was a bastard to him, he didn't want it, he did want stop, but if they didn't they'd probably both die. He had no desire to die in a tampon isle. As reluctant as ever, he pulled their lips apart, opening his eyes before her, and enjoy the sight. Her cheeks were still flushed, her lips red and slightly swollen. When she opened her eyes they were bright, like the cloudless sky above a meadow. He was sure nothing was hotter than Penelope Garcia, besides the surface of the sun...maybe.

And he wanted her to be his.