A/N: So ... let's make things better then, shall we? Thanks to everyone who keeps reading.
I will have a friend of mine over until Monday, so my updates might not be as frequent as you are used to. Apologies already if I will make you wait once again... Maybe I will write another oneshot as apology. LOL
Penelope hadn't been able to answer Hotch since her thoughts were all over the place, everywhere at once, trying to make sense of what her boss had just said. All of a sudden, with his words, her defiance crumbled. All her arguments as of why she was so mad at Morgan, but had forgiven the rest of them, didn't have any base anymore. If he really had doubts and second thoughts, maybe he didn't take as much advantage of her as she had been thinking.
She left work that day with a lot of thoughts lingering on her mind, not entirely sure what to make off Hotch's confession and how that made Morgan look now. He had hurt her. That was a fact, and one she couldn't just sugarcoat. She said her rushed goodbye's to the team members and was out of the door, into her weekend and away from this. Hopefully the time off would help her to get a clear head soon and figure out what she would do next.
Stopping on her way home for getting a few things she felt she needed now, or over the next few days, she made it home eventually, planning a long, warm bath, helping her to relax … and think about things.
Closing her eyes she couldn't stop the images coming back to her all the time, images of mainly her and Morgan. And why did her mind always go there? The memories came back. Every single one of them was about her time together with Morgan, about their dates, their kisses, how they basically spent the last few months more or less being inseparable, how she spent almost every waking moment with him happy, at ease and how she felt like crying and missed him so terribly much every time the team had to leave on a case. She remembered how he always looked at her, especially when he thought she wouldn't notice. Looked at her with these big, deep brown eyes, that were filled with so much love and affection, desire and heat, passion and devotion. It almost killed her just thinking about them.
She remembered how gentle and sweet he always was with her, how committed when she didn't feel too good and how he would be by her side until she would be better again. Basically he was like that all the time, even before the accident.
When she thought about his embraces she started feeling all fuzzy and warm, shudders running down her back, when thinking about the moments when he kissed her, gentle and slow, hot and full of passion. It didn't matter how he kissed her because every way had made her feel goose bumps.
Derek Morgan had a way to get under your skin and remain there. To make it in your heart and make sure you'd never kick him out. Thinking back about their night together, their love making, the gentleness he displayed with her, the passion that was between them, the heat and desire for each other, how their hands worked their ways over each other's bodies, how they were desperate to get just that little bit closer, fill that last gap between each other, frantic for more skin, more contact, more everything … it made her want to relive it all over again.
It wasn't as if the anger had gone and didn't exist any longer, but all of a sudden, for any particular reason she felt different. She felt like she started to see something that she hadn't even bothered looking for before. Rethinking how Morgan had been, she had to admit he was exactly like he had been all along during their friendship, just that little bit more committed, more attentive, sweeter and kinder. And he had already been all of that before, but since that whole 'boyfriend' issue, she felt like he stepped up his game. Thinking back she had never felt more loved up, safer and better taken care of before then when she was with him and maybe that should tell her something. Maybe by now she should start to think and wonder about things, wonder why the anger seemed to get less with every passing minute. Maybe he hadn't taken advantage of her as much as she had thought.
She closed her eyes, sinking a bit further into the warm water, until she was chin-deep. Her hair had been pinned up earlier so she wouldn't mess it all up and around.
Images of their first kiss came back to her, the feeling of his soft lips pressed against hers, how she had lunged forward into his arms and just kissed him, as if it was the most normal thing to do. How he had hesitated for a moment, but then gave her his best. More pictures came back into her mind, more kisses, more romance, more of all the good things. And the more she thought about their past couple of months, how they spent them and how good it made her feel even now, the more she had to realize one thing. It felt right, too right somehow. Like … that was the way it was supposed to be like. Like they were meant to be with each other.
And then she had to realize one more thing, which hit her like a lightning. All the memories that came back to her, about her, him, them, made her realize that all the active intimate moments had been initiated by her. Their first kiss, their first night in the same bed as 'couple', even their first time having sex. It all came from her, was started by her. She initiated everything. So how could she accuse him any longer of taking advantage of her when it was all started by her?
She had to get out of the tub. Now. The sooner the better. She needed to see Morgan. Tonight. The sooner it would happen the better she would feel. She had done him so wrong, had made him feel so bad, hadn't even given him a chance to respond, talk to her, say anything. Apart from the flowers with the card on Monday and the calls on her answering machine and voice mails on her cell.
Thinking now also about Rossi's word from earlier, another wave of guilt and sorrow washed over her. How could she ever think of her best friend like that? They had known everything about each other. The deepest secrets, their worst moments, the highs of their lives.
Leaving the bathroom she ran into her bedroom, going through her closet and just pulling out any kind of clothing. It didn't really matter what she would be wearing. She didn't really care about that right now. All she knew was that she needed to get out of this apartment and make it over to Derek Morgan's home. God knew if he even would want to talk to her, after the week she had given him, but she at least had to try. A few minutes later she had her hair in a pony tail, was wearing some jeans and a shirt, which she usually would rather be caught dead in than seen wearing it in public, grabbed her keys and left her apartment quickly