Part seven:
He was waiting for her at the baggage claim, and she flew into his arms. It was pathetically sad how much she missed him after a week. She'd gotten out of her hand bandages, but relearning simple tasks had a learning curve, and she wanted Derek's reinforcement.
"Baby, I missed you, too," Derek assured her with a chuckle. "Let's get your stuff and go home."
"I've only got the one bag," she said. "Your mom wanted to take me shopping, but I wasn't about to spend someone else's money."
He smiled. "Silly girl, you've been spending my money."
"That's different," she retorted, letting him grab her bag from the carousel. "You volunteered, and you've been sweet about it."
"You look better," he said as he looked her up and down. "Beautiful, sexy, much more like yourself now."
"I feel better," Penelope agreed. "Your mom took good care of me." She held up her hands and beamed at him. "And I can wipe my own tushie now," she teased, practically dancing with excitement. "I even ate a little bag of chips on the plane."
His smile was as big as hers. That was a hell of a sign that things were on the right track. "C'mon, Baby Girl, let's go home," he insisted. "I've got a surprise for you."
"A welcome home party?" she asked.
"Even better," he promised.
"Well, I have a surprise for you," she retorted. "I finally decided what to name her."
"Really?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah," she replied. "Charlotte. After my mom. Charlotte Francis Garcia. I told your mom I wanted to use her name and she started crying like I was giving her the best present ever."
Derek's smile faded. "She's mad at me for not giving her grandchildren, so she'll take what she can get," he said.
"I want Fran to be…" Penelope stopped talking and rubbed her belly nervously. "Nevermind."
"Spit it out," he said.
"No, because you'll be bratty about it," she sighed.
"You want Fran to be what?" Derek asked.
"I want her to be Charlotte's grandmother – obviously, not by blood, but…" She shut up and closed her eyes, waiting for what she thought was an inevitable storm. When nothing happened, she looked over at him. "Derek?"
"I think that's sweet and Mama will appreciate it," he said.
"Really?" The unspoken implication in her request was what had her trapped somewhere between wanting and hoping. She didn't dare ask him, but she knew she had to. She couldn't live without him again.
"Really," Derek said. A muscle in his jaw twinged.
"Derek, I –"
"How was the flight?" he asked, changing the subject completely.
She answered the question, but the car fell silent after that, aside from the radio.
There was too much to say and too much left unsaid. They had a completely different dynamic now. The flirtatious teasing had been replaced with grounded, adult conversation.
She couldn't garner the courage to encourage the X-rated conversations again. She still felt vulnerable, and maybe that would never go away. But it was Derek…
They arrived, and she looked out the window. "This is your place?" she asked, blinking.
"Damn straight," he said with a smile. He hit the remote and the garage door opened, revealing Esther as he drove in and parked. "Welcome home, Penelope."
She got out of the car and wandered aimlessly around his house, her shoulders shaking with silent tears. She saw things she didn't even remember having in her possession scattered around everywhere. Her dolls, her pens, the Super8 projector… She stopped in the master bedroom and full-on lost her shit. "Oh my god," she sobbed.
"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pulling her into his arms. "I want you to be happy, Penelope. No more tears."
"This can't be for me," she whimpered. "You did this? You came home to do this?"
He smiled. "No, I came home to decorate the nursery, Silly Girl, but you haven't gotten that far yet."
"You did this all for me?" she asked, looking up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"No," he finally admitted, "I did it for me. While you were gone. I had all your stuff."
"This is your room?" she asked, looking around. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't –"
"It's ours now," he promised. "No more sneaking around, Baby Girl."
"Derek…"
"Hot Mama, listen to me. Every time someone puts us in separate rooms, you wait till they fall asleep and then you haul your sexy butt into my bed. I'm putting my foot down: it's our bed or nothing."
She blushed and bit her lip. "Okay, then," she agreed.
"Now come see Charlotte's room," he said, firmly guiding her across the hall.
"OH!" she cried upon seeing the room in hues of green and yellow. "Derek –"
"No pink was good enough," he said. "Yellow for sunshine and green for serenity. She's going to need all the help she can get."
Penelope turned around and kissed him before she scampered across the room and started looking at all of the clothes and diapers and baby things that he'd picked out. "Oh, Derek, you didn't have to do this!" she cried.
He smiled. "Yeah, well, I figured you're going to need all the help you can get, too," he commented not at all snidely. "A baby is a big responsibility and a lot of work."
"You make it sound like I didn't already know that," she replied, walking swiftly back him in order to poke him in the chest. "I'll have you know, buster, that I'm very aware of those precious facts of yours, and I'm doing my best already."
"So let's go get some lunch," he suggested.
She rolled her eyes. "You do realize I've put on fifteen pounds since I got out of the hospital, right?"
He nodded and smirked. "Forty to go," he reminded her.
She groaned. "You're going to kill me with food."
"We've got a full cupboard of –"
"Any Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" she asked. "I could eat a whole box of that."
He'd take what he could. "Of course," he said. "Let's go down and get some lunch."
A few minutes later, she was plowing through a bowl of cereal and he was settling in with a sandwich. He'd just taken a bite when she said, "I still haven't told you why I'm keeping Charlotte."
He shrugged. "I figured I didn't really need to know. It was your choice."
A tiny sad smile crept onto her lips. "It's because she's all I'll have left of my Mom. It's just me and any kids I'd have. That's all I've got, Derek. I'd fight to the death for it."
"You almost did," he pointed out.
She scowled. "Well, you know what? It takes a miracle to forgive, but you never forget. I've made my peace with what happened, but it doesn't stop hurting. But this little girl? She's not his. She's MINE. And I'm forgiving the rest because I'll have HER. Everything happens for a reason, and if it doesn't, why am I here, eating sugar-coated crack?"
"Because you're stronger than you look," Derek said.
"Damn," she muttered.
"What?"
"My cereal's soggy."
He couldn't help it: he started cracking up.
"Hey, it's not funny!" Penelope protested. "It's a crime against humanity!"
"Baby Girl, don't ever change," he said, still smiling as she glared daggers at him.
"Don't look at me like that," she muttered.
"Like what?"
"Like THAT."
"Baby Girl, this is my face," he reminded her.
"Well, then, your face makes me horny," she grumbled. "So stop looking at me."
He dropped his sandwich.
"Oh, don't look so damn shocked," she sighed, stirring her soggy cereal. "I'm pregnant and horny and I'm really not dead yet, so of course you make me think all kinds of dirty things. Don't read anything into it."
He cleared his throat. "Am I going to have to sleep on the couch?"
She glared at him again. "No."
"So you can guarantee that you're not going to molest me in my sleep?" he teased.
"Derek Morgan, I'd be across the table and molesting you right now if I didn't have a voice in the back of my head reminding me that men are awful," she muttered. "I suppose you threw out my drawer full of sex toys?"
He snickered. "Oh, no, Princess, you're not going there."
"Look, Hot Stuff, I am not going to ruin whatever… this is," she said firmly, "by fucking you like one of your floozies."
He was still smiling at her and it was sending waves of sick, wrong heat through her body, all of them coming to rest in her groin. Damn it. Men. So full of themselves and their appeal. Alas, she was wanting more than sex appeal. She wanted Derek Morgan, and for all the wrong reasons.
"I haven't had a floozy in a while," he teased her.
"Don't – Derek Morgan – don't encourage me!" she groaned.
"It's a perfectly natural hormone thing," he assured her. "I asked JJ and –"
She groaned and let her head hit the tabletop. "Oh, for fuck's sake, why did you –"
"Say that again," he said.
"What?"
"Say 'fuck' again," he instructed.
His voice was like silk and velvet, his tone masterful but with a hint of amused lust hidden away. She almost did exactly what he said, but instead lifted her head and glared at him again. "No."
"Say it," he repeated.
"I will not."
"I'll make you a deal."
Her glare turned into a glower and she pursed her lips together. "What?"
"If you need me, for things, you come to me. You don't go anywhere else or call some random guy," he instructed. "And in return, I'll show you a damn good time."
"Derek Morgan –"
"Hey, I'm supposed to be helping you out, remember?" he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Besides, I'm surprised this hasn't… come up… before now."
Her heart beat faster at the pun. She needed to stop thinking about this before she lost control and attacked him. Absence not only made her heart grow fonder, it made it that much harder not to drag him to bed and take advantage of him. BEST FRIEND, she reminded herself, NOT FUCK BUDDY.
She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until she saw the look on his face. He excused himself from the table and left her with a half-eaten sandwich and a half bowl of soggy cereal.
She found him upstairs in the office, throwing a bouncy ball against the wall repeatedly. Each bounce was harder than the last and she cleared her throat before he could put the ball through the wall. "Derek, I'm sorry," Penelope said. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."
He shrugged. "You made your feelings pretty clear."
"No, I made them very muddled," she said, sinking into his papa-san rocker with a grunt and a sigh. "I was trying to tell myself not to do all the things I've been wanting to because it's a bad idea. Because it will ruin what progress I've made in the last three weeks. Because it will break our relationship, and I can't lose you on top of everything else. You're already mad at me and I've been back all of three hours. I don't think that bodes well if we start… fucking."
He gripped the ball tighter. "You know what makes me horny?" he asked. "Listening to you tell me all the reasons we shouldn't be fucking each other. Because you've clearly thought about everything I could offer you – in great detail."
Her jaw dropped. "Derek!" she spluttered.
"It's the truth."
"We're best friends!"
"And you've been promising me a 'good morning' for years," he reminded her.
"Not lately!"
"Because you're scared and upset and who can blame you for that?"
"You're infuriating!"
He spun the chair around and appraised her. "And you're absolutely sexy as hell when you're angry," he replied. "You're sexy any time."
"I'm not what you want," she spluttered, standing up and gesturing wildly. "You want airhead skinny bitch supermodels who will leave you in the morning and let you get on with your life."
"Maybe once upon a time," Derek said with a predatory gleam in his eyes that made her feel weak in the knees. "But I'm a little fixated on my best friend right now."
She bit her lip. "Derek…"
"Yeah?" he asked with a hint of a smile.
"Oh, god, don't look at me like that," she whimpered. "Seriously, for once, please listen to me –"
"If you're going to tell me that you don't want me, save your breath."
"I want you," she said. "But you scare me. You scare me more than he ever did. Because you're real, and you're here, and you're my hero." He was still looking at her with those amused, lusty eyes that made her feel sick. "And one day, you'll realize you're with a chubby nobody with a big personality and huge damage and you'll just walk. I can't let you do that, so I won't put myself in that position. I won't do it."
"Penelope Anne Garcia," Derek rumbled, "do not make me turn you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve."
"Derek Morgan –"
"I waited for you," he said. "I never really gave up, I just told myself you were dead so I could live with myself. I never stopped loving you, you silly girl."
"Rory Williams waited two thousand years for Amy Pond," she said. "So you don't count."
"What?"
"Doctor Who."
"Oh." He paused. "That's television."
"Sometimes, a girl just wants something like that," Penelope whispered. "Someone she can trust forever."
"Trust me," he insisted.
"I do – that's the problem."
"I'm going to count to ten and you're going to give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't take you into our bedroom and help you relieve a little tension," he said. "Ten… nine… eight…"
"I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU," she blurted out at the top of her lungs.
"Not good enough," he replied. "Seven… six…"
All the blood drained from her face. So many years, so many wasted chances…
"Five… four… three…"
"I'm in love with you and I'm scared," she whispered.
"Two… one…"
God help me, Penelope Garcia begged.
"Zero." He hesitated for a long moment, then said, "I love you, too, and I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, Baby Girl."
"That may be true, but I'm still scared."
"Me, too," he finally said. "I'm scared that I'm not enough."
She stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"
"No."
"So we're both scared… for the same reason."
He nodded. "So it seems."
"I wanted to ask you something earlier, but I chickened out," Penelope said. "In the car."
"I'm listening, Baby," Derek encouraged.
"I… I want you to be Charlotte's daddy," she whispered, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. "Not like a godfather, like a real dad. You don't have to be anything to me, just Derek Morgan, but I need you to accept her. Please."
"Is that all?" he asked, chuckling. "Baby Girl, I opened my home to you and your baby girl with the expectation of just that. You really think I could be that callous?"
"No, but this isn't what you want," she protested. "You don't want babies and a house and a picket fence and –"
"I didn't. But things change."
"I –"
"I love you."
"Don't just sit there and say that like you mean it," she said.
"What am I supposed to do then?" he asked. "Sit here and say that like I mean it while I think about getting you naked and bothered?"
"Not everything in the world is about sex!"
"You're absolutely right," he said, standing up. Before she knew what was happening, he had her backed up against a wall and she was almost hyperventilating because he had her caught, trapped, and she was torn between terrified and wanting him to just do something completely inappropriate. "Some things are about love."
Love!
When he kissed her, she was lost. She was floating on an endless sea, and her only option was to navigate toward him. She whimpered between hot, wet, delicious kisses, her ragged fingernails digging into his sides as he deepened each kiss and made her forget to breathe. Damn him! How could she protest when he was making such a convincing argument?
He was very, very persuasive, and she was very, very wound up.
It was a lethal combination.
