*AN – Not my sandbox, I'm just playing in it.*

Chapter 10

The days began to flow into weeks and the team adjusted and accepted its newest member. Finally, a full weekend off came. Early morning found Sam already working in her garage. The hood of her car was up, she was up to her elbows in engine grease, the music was loud, and the whiskey had already begun to flow. She just had to wait for Eric to arrive and help her set the timing of the engine she had finally installed in the vintage Charger. The sounds of an approaching motorcycle surprised her. The timber was off. Hearing footsteps on the concrete she called out "You changed the pipes on your bike and didn't tell me?"

Warrick barked. 'What the hell?' she thought. 'Warrick knows Eric. Usually he would damn near knock him over with the exuberance of his greeting.' Suddenly concerned she picked up the torque wrench she had set aside and spun around. What she wasn't prepared for was to see Derek Morgan standing in the open door of her garage casting a wary gaze at her dog.

Warrick made a low whining sound in his throat. Derek had stopped and was waiting to see what the dog would do before he tried to come any farther into the garage. 'Should have figured she'd have a damn pit bull' was what was going through his head.

Lowering the torque wrench she grabbed the remote for the stereo, turning down the volume to where a conversation could be comfortably had. "Warrick, say hello." was the brisk command to the dog.

Warrick approached Derek slowly, tail straight out and ears up. His human had told him to say hello but he didn't like the sudden tension that his human and this one were creating. After sniffing the man's pant leg and determining that he had a dog of his own he gave his tail a single wag before looking back at his human for approval.

Derek read the dog's body language and admitted that it was probably the same thing Clooney would do. If Derek wasn't completely at ease around someone then Clooney wasn't either. At least she put the torque wrench down. He held his hand out for the dog to sniff before taking a knee and rubbing his ears while trying to figure out how to break the news to Warrick's owner that they had been called in.

Sam walked across the garage to the workbench where the open bottle of Jack Daniels sat before refilling a glass and draining it in a quick swallow. 'What the hell is he doing here?' she thought to herself. 'We are on stand down this weekend and Rothschild's team is supposed to be on call. Today was going to be my day to kick back with my best friend and sort out all of the crazy ideas floating around in my head about one Derek Morgan.'

Morgan took the time greeting Warrick to get his own head on straight. He hadn't expected to walk up and see his newest team member in a wife-beater tank top and worn jeans that left nothing to the imagination. Seeing her bent over the engine of the muscle car had almost been enough to give him a heart attack. When she turned he could clearly see the outline of the red lace bra she wore through the thin material of the top. Her hair was pulled into a messy pony tail and he could see a set of military dog tags hanging around her neck. Hell, even the engine grease only added to the appeal. She knew her way around an engine, knew how to take care of herself and after years of dating very girly women, the idea of a woman who could take charge of any situation was a turn-on. He was surprised to see her down a double of Jack like it was as easy as breathing. Whiskey was not what the women he was with usually drank and he wondered what it might taste like on her tongue. And, as much as he wanted to find out more details about her life outside of the BAU, he reminded himself that they had a case. "You may want to stop at that one." he cautioned.

"What Agent Morgan? Afraid I am gonna pinch my finger and give myself a boo-boo working on my car or are you worried that I will damage the engine working on it drunk?"

"We have a case. I just got the call; we go wheels up in 45 minutes. Hotch asked me to come by and tell you in person."

Sam was stunned. "What happened to being on stand-down?"

Morgan shrugged as he stood up chuckling as her dog shot him a disappointed look. "The on call team is already there and they need us. So, we go."

"Shit." was what came out of the agent's mouth. "Lemme make a call and cancel my plans. Then we can head out."

Morgan watched as she headed over to the sink tucked in the corner of the garage and began to scrub the grease away. Part of him was terrified she would accidently get that tank top wet and the other half of him was praying that she would. "Just grab your go bag and I will give you a ride. You may be legally sober but you gotta be buzzed. I'm not about to let you drive like that."

"Morgan, I heard you pull up on your bike." was the beginning of her argument.

Morgan just grinned. "And? You ride; you're not afraid of a big, bad bike. It even has bitch seat. Granted, you will have to hold on to me, but…"

He was trying to bait her and Sam decided to let that one pass. "So, you, me, your go bag and my go bag are just gonna roll into the BAU on your bike?" was the doubting reply from Sam. 'That is so ridiculous. I should just call a cab' was her thought.

"Jesus, no." was the reply from Morgan thinking about how much it would look like a clown car if they were to try that. "I live in the next neighborhood over. We'll quick swing by my place to grab my bag and exchange my bike for my car. Then we'll head out."

Sam took a minute to try and not think about sitting behind Morgan on a bike before realizing he was offering her an acceptable solution to her problem. She was an FBI agent, she really shouldn't drive buzzed, and the Jack would hit in about twenty minutes. "Damn you for being right Derek Morgan. Come in while I grab a coat and make some calls. We can roll in five."

Derek followed her and her dog into the kitchen of her house. He watched her pull her leather jacket and motorcycle helmet out of a coat closet. She quickly called her Uncle Chuck to come get her dog as she gathered her cell phone charger, tablet, and iPod. She called Eric and apologized for having to cancel on him and explained that she was getting ready to walk out the door and go out on a case. Derek looked around her kitchen and living room while she spoke, leaning up against the kitchen counters casually. He didn't want to pry but willingly took advantage of seeing a side of Sam he had never been allowed to before. He appreciated the dark, earthy tones of her house. It was clean cut and comfortable but still casual and homey. The kitchen was huge and kitchen implements were everywhere. A pot of stew was even simmering on the stove and a loaf bread dough was rising on the cupboard.

Sam quickly hung up before walking to the stove and turning it off. She slid the pot into the fridge and wrapped the rising bread dough in plastic wrap before sliding it in the freezer. She pulled on her coat and grabbed her helmet and electronics before motioning him out into the garage. Grabbing her go bag out of the back of her SUV she settled her things inside, shortened the strap so that the duffle would stay close to her back, and slung it across her body. They exited through the access door and walked to Derek's bike.

Sam took a moment to take in the bike. "Why am I not surprised you ride a V Rod?"

"Why am I not surprised you know your Harleys?" he shot right back. "The V Rod is the best of both worlds Princess. It's classic Harley with a street edge. Now get your helmet on, climb aboard, and lets go." he added as he pulled on his own helmet and zipped up his jacket.

Sam easily climbed on behind Derek and wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt the Jack kicking in and relaxing her and she leaned into him as the bike started to roll. She decided since her getting Derek out of her brain was denied to her she was going to enjoy the forced contact for as long as it lasted.

Morgan was enjoying having Sam with him on his bike and decided the ride to his house was almost too short. He debated going the long way just to keep her arms wrapped around him for a little while longer. If only they didn't have a case! He knew he had to be responsible, but he just appreciated the soft form snuggled trustingly behind him. Sam moved with him almost intuitively as he rode, staying with him as he leaned into turns, keeping her arms in a firm grasp around his middle, never panicking, never grabbing, just flowing with the motion of him and the bike. He had to force himself not to wonder if she would move as intuitively with him in other motions.

He pulled the bike into his garage and they both pulled off their helmets. Morgan unlocked his SUV and Sam settled her bag and helmet in the back. Morgan took the time to run over to his neighbors and drop off Clooney before climbing into the driver seat and backing out of the garage. As they began to drive, Derek took the opportunity to ask "Why a Charger? And what year is it anyway?"

Sam laughed softly. "She's a '69 R/T with a 440 Magnum engine. As to why I am restoring a Charger, it's because it belonged to someone I was very close to and he didn't get to finish the project so I am. God, he was nuts about that damn car. He never did settle on a name for her though."

Morgan took that in for a minute. "So, how close is she to being done?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Is it an acceptable answer to say not nearly close enough?" she said drolly. Taking in the look Morgan shot her out of the corner of his eye she continued. "Engine needs to have a few things finished up. All the gages are in. She needs painted. And she needs an interior so I'm getting close. You don't happen to know a good auto upholsterer, do you?"

Morgan smirked. "I have a few friends who are car guys. I'll ask around. How long have you been at it?"

"Just about three years." was the quiet reply.

"What condition was it in when you got it? It looks like you've done a hell of a lot of work."

"Yeah, well, I lived in the desert and didn't go out much. When I wasn't at work I was pretty much in my garage working on that car. She was rough when we towed her home; just a rusted out body sitting on a frame. But the frame was straight and the engine hadn't seized so we took a shot on her. We took her apart piece by piece all the way down to the frame and I built her back up again the same way. The engine overhaul was as much a labor of love as all the body work. She's a rolling chassis right now. Gimme a few more months and she will be purring down the road.

"You know, most car guys I know are just that … guys." Morgan remarked drolly. "I've never seen a woman who cared as much cars and bikes as you do."

Sam shot him a look. "Don't be sexist Morgan. I have a not so secret love affair with the internal combustion engine. And trust me, when I get her done she'll take your breath away."

Morgan stayed silent in his thoughts as they continued the drive. He had a feeling the car wasn't the only thing that would be taking his breath away.

*AN - Nope, not done torturing Morgan yet. I'm just not gonna let him off that easy. More aggravation in upcoming chapters. ~ MM*