Series 8 One-shots: Perennials
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.
The original M/G shipper in me couldn't ignore this, especially as I didn't think this was such a great episode other then this little moment.
And before anyone points it out I know Garcia is a vegetarian but I figure she is like a friend of mine who will not eat meat but has learnt to prepare it for her one true friend and now partner.
. . .
Prompt
Garcia: Hey if you need someone to help you, you know, put new bindings on, rewrap, wrap or unwrap . . .
. . .
Stretching lazily Derek instantly regretted the action as his body argued against the movement. He still felt sleepy which was surprising given how contently he had slept. The one bonus to the pain killing meds he had been given was a rare full night's sleep.
Moving slowly to try and ease some of the tension in his body, Derek mentally planned out his weekend. Thanks to his injury restoration work was off the cards. No running or gym, though he might fit a walk in with Clooney later, his old pal took things at a much more sedate pace now.
It was as he lay there, contemplating possible activities for the weekend, that he heard the loud bang. Instantly he reacted, hand pulling his gun from his bedside table. Stalking silently along the landing he headed towards the stairs and whoever had invaded his home.
Taking each step with care, he reached the bottom. Clooney wasn't in his favoured sleeping spot. Derek's eyebrows furrowed as his drug addled brain tried to compute the fact that whoever had entered his abode had done so without causing Clooney to bark. In fact they appeared to have a willing accomplice.
Lowering his weapon, Derek begun to put two and two together, his suspicions were confirmed when his nostrils were tempted by the smell of bacon wafting from his kitchen. Stowing the gun away in the hall dresser, Derek shuffled sleepily through to his kitchen to have his suspicions confirmed.
His best friend had plugged her i pod into his docking station as was singing along to the song as she busied herself preparing what looked like enough food to feed an army. Derek leaned against the doorframe and watched the show.
"What do you think you are doing Miss Thing?"
Pen jumped, dropping the bowl which contained her special cinnamon batter mix. The bowl broke, sending its contents far and wide across the tiled floor. Turning to face Derek Pen gulped as she saw him standing in the doorway. His low slung sweat pants hung temptingly off his hips, fully exposing his perfect torso. The image was only marred by the stark white bandage that indicated the injury he had sustained. Pen gulped before she regained her composure.
"I . . . ur . . . I thought . . . um . . . well I came over to rustle up a little breakfast for you, and drop off the cookies I baked last night, and generally check that you are ok."
As she finished speaking she spun back round, rapidly dealing with the food she had already on the go. Cursing slightly under her breath Pen quickly removed the bacon from the grill and place it on a plate in the oven to keep warm. When she turned back Derek was bent down collecting up pieces of broken bowl.
"Oh no you don't Sugar," Pen swooped down beside him, "You have bare feet, you're injured, and I'm here to make your life easier. Now shoo, go on." Pen waved him off, batting him playfully as she did.
Derek made his way over to the breakfast bar. Tugging a stool out he plonked himself down, a sulky look on his face. "I was only trying to help, especially since I caused you to drop it."
But Pen wasn't having any of it, besides it gave her something else to focus on other than his broad bare chest. "I tell you what Angelfish, why don't you go shower and I finish clearing up and sort brunch for you and me."
Derek was half way to the door when he paused, "I would do, but I can't seem to find the fastening on my bandage, and I need to take it off before I shower."
Pen rose to her feet, wiping her sticky hands on her apron before she took a look at the white crape band. "Ah here it is," she exclaimed standing behind Derek, "Must have worked its way round while you slept. Maybe wearing a t-shirt will help."
Derek huffed, "I'm normally butt naked at home; don't know what made me put these on last night. They are usually reserved for when I am away."
Her fingers trembled as she worked; trying to keep out of her mind the image he had just given her. "There you go," she said offering him the end of the binding.
But instead of taking it Derek held both hands above his head, like a child wanting help taking his sweater off. "Thought you offered to rewrap, wrap or unwrap." He gave a provocative wiggle of his eyebrows as he quoted back her offer from the night before.
Sighing Penelope begun to slowly remove the covering, trying to reach round him, as the bandage passed round, without touching him. She gasped as the deep purple bruises revealed themselves on his perfect dark skin. Oh her poor Baby Boy. She traced her fingers gently over the marks; "I hate it when one of you gets hurt. It is why I spend my time worrying when you guys are away."
"Mama it is a couple of bruises that's all. Look I'm just fine," as he spoke Derek mimicked Penelope's robotic movements from years previous when she had tried to prove the same point after being shot, "I'm not even signed off from the field."
"That doesn't magically make it all ok though."
Derek lifted her chin; bring her face up to him. Kissing her softly on the forehead he smiled. "No it doesn't, but you and your baking sure do. So I'm going to go get dressed then you and I can finish up breakfast and have a lazy weekend. Deal?"
Pen nodded and watch as he padded softly back out of the kitchen.
. . .
Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything.
Muhammad Ali