AN: Another shorty after the last long one. Don't own them. The sad part is almost over (whew!)

Chapter 8

12 pm
December 26th

Morgan had been barely been able to contain the need to run out of Garcia's office as fast as he could. He couldn't lie to himself, he was scared shitless. She had never, ever, in the eight plus years that they had known each other, backed away from him like that. He couldn't even begin to process the pain evoked by the simple action and the words she had spoken. When she had said she couldn't do "this" anymore, had she meant the job or their friendship? He never really thought he could lose her until that moment she stepped away from him.

Nearly two hours later, he continued to amble pointlessly along the riverfront, despite the bitter cold, trying to process it all. He had nearly lost her once, because of a man with a gun (and a badge) who thought she was on to his secret. That had scared the hell out of him. But he never once considered she would leave him by choice. Even when Lynch was talking about proposing, he had always assumed she would still be in his life in some shape or form. But from the way she had acted back in her office, he feared that she intended a complete separation-from the B.A.U. and from him.

As he walked, he considered that. It physically hurt to think of his daily routine without her. Work would be dull and horrible. Who would make him smile when the cases became too much? But even worse, his entire life would be dull and horrible without her in it. It would be empty and meaningless. He sighed, unsure of what he was supposed to do now when she had made it so clear that she didn't want or need anything from him.

He froze right there in the middle of the sidewalk as something occurred to him. Damn it, he was a complete idiot. How many times, when he was in a bad place, had he tried to push her away? Usually he did it over the phone and by the time he got back she always had things all figured out. Why in the hell had he walked out of her office at all, when it was clear that she was hurting? When had she ever listened to him when he was miserable and he told her to leave things alone? He had failed her a second time. But he would not let it happen again. He finally turned with purpose. Her house was a good thirty minute walk from here, but he could use the time to think.

xxx

3pm
December 26th

Penelope drove by Derek's house, breathing a sigh of relief when his truck was nowhere to be seen. If it had been there, she was sure she would have folded to the need to see him and stopped by. She headed home with the oddest mixture of relief and disappointment in her heart. She wasn't sure she could maintain this distance between the two of them. It was hard to even make sense of all the feelings she had where Derek was concerned. She was far too exhausted to even try. Since nothing had been going on in the office, she had decided to call it an early day and just go home to sleep.

Ten minutes later she was opening her front door. All she could think about was making it to her bed. She hoped for a solid three hours of sleep-a record in her new sleep-deprived life. She froze half way to her bedroom and did a double take at her sofa. There was a large, gorgeous man sleeping there, looking entirely out of place in her apartment. The man just didn't listen. He looked so peaceful, so young, set among her purple pillows on her girlie couch. She felt tears forming again. Was there no end to the supply of tears? She growled in frustration, turning around in an attempt to stop herself from crying.

She heard him groan and heard the swishing of clothes that probably meant he was sitting up. She decided, for her sanity, to keep her back to him. If she looked at him, it was all over.

"Hey, Garcia, sorry to crash on your couch," he said, his voice heavy with sleep.

She huffed. "No you aren't. Don't you listen?"

"Not always, but I'm actually paying attention now."

What the heck did that mean? She shook her head, trying to think the best way to get him out of her house without having to look at him. "Look, Morgan. . . "

"No, Baby Girl, please look at me."

She sighed, then turned. Biggest. Mistake. Ever. He sat there on her couch, looking tired, defeated, and amazingly handsome.

His earnest eyes bored in to hers as he spoke again. "You can leave the B.A.U., you can leave all of the blood and horror behind, but baby, you aren't going to shut me out. Not now, not ever. You wouldn't let me shut you out if the tables were turned." Then he simply opened his arms.

That was all it took. Her resolve was gone. She was across the room in half a second, crying again. His arms folded around here and for the first time in a week she felt whole. She gave up on thinking and just gave in to the chaos of her emotions.