Author's Note: Thanks so much for taking the time to review the last chapter. It's very much appreciated! Also, this chapter is a bit sappy because I was listening to Christmas music while I was writing it, so read at your own risk! LOL

FYI—I have a poll up on my profile asking which 'clichéd' storyline you'd like to read and with which couple. If the storyline/couple you'd like to see doesn't appear there, please feel free to PM me with what you'd be interested in seeing! Some that have been mentioned to me outside of the poll are lacunar amnesia (for Derek w/ a Morgan/Garcia pairing) and a drunken Vegas wedding for Garcia/Morgan. I'm interested in knowing what you'd like to read! Thanks. - Angie

Penelope walked into the BAU and her eyes immediately found Derek. Of course he'd beat her to the office. He looked up and she gave him a teasing smirk—they'd managed to get a hurried lovemaking session in before he'd left to get ready for work—and his eyes locked on hers, a sexy grin spreading across his handsome features.

Penelope felt that over the weekend something had shifted in their relationship. He knew that she had a daughter, and he hadn't freaked out. He'd been angry that she'd lied to him, but she couldn't blame him for that. She was sure that if their roles had been reversed, she wouldn't have handled it as well, not with her affinity for drama. In fact, there was a very good chance that a grudge would have been involved. She made her way to her office, her mind working all the while.

But she shouldn't have been surprised. Ever since she'd arrived at Quantico, Derek had been nothing less than thrilled, and his feelings hadn't diminished during their weeks together. Penelope had never felt so…adored in all of her life. If he wasn't away on a case, he wanted to be with her. Whether they were eating dinner together or having a steamy romantic encounter, they never stopped enjoying each other's company.

Derek couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd felt so content. He loved everything about Penelope Garcia… the way her face lit up when she saw him, the way she was always smiling, the way she was with Ava, the way she was with him…the list was endless. Granted, he hadn't seen her much with Ava, but that would change once the little girl finally came to live in her new house. He sighed as he watched her walk to her office, his eyes glued to the sway of her hips. Yep. Life was good.

Penelope was surprised when she pulled into her driveway and saw Derek's vehicle parked there. He'd left work early and then sent her a text saying he'd see her later, but she hadn't realized he'd be waiting for her when she got home.

She jumped out of her vehicle and hurried inside, anxious to see what he had in store for her. She dropped her keys by the door; there was nothing in the living room, so she went into the kitchen, and there was nothing there, either. With a grin, she headed for the back stairs. If she was a lucky woman, he'd be waiting for her in her bed. She frowned as she walked into her room. She wasn't that lucky. "Derek?" she called.

"In here," she heard him say.

She walked into the room that would soon belong to her daughter and looked around. Derek had covered everything with a drop cloth and there were two gallons of paint in the middle of the floor along with the necessary items he'd need to paint the room. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting ready to paint," he replied. "Do you want to help?"

She leaned against the doorway. "You know, when I pulled up, I was expecting a candlelit dinner or something," she told him.

He lifted his lips in a grin. "Oh, we can definitely start a fire," he teased as he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Penelope laughed as he walked towards her. He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck, causing her to shiver. "Or at the very least, you in the middle of my bed naked."

"Definitely later," he said as he pulled away. "But I'd like to get this done now in case I get called away."

"How did you even get in?" she asked as he headed for the paint cans.

"I broke in," he explained as he used a screw driver to get the top off one of them.

Penelope cleared her throat. "Is that something that perhaps I should get fixed?" she asked in amusement.

"Nah," he answered. "Clooney and I will be here soon enough to protect you." Derek was so nonchalant about working his way into her life, as if he belonged there. And Penelope loved it. For someone who really hadn't been a consistent fixture in her life for very long, he'd become a significant one.

"Unless of course Ava is 'allergict' to him," he said dryly.

Penelope laughed at his comment. "She is not 'allergict' to dogs," she informed him. But her laughter died on her lips as she took in the sight before her.

Derek was wearing a pair of ratty old jeans that already had paint stains on them, along with a dark blue Northwestern University t-shirt, the logo on it faded from lots of wear, and a pair of white socks. The picture of him standing there in her daughters' bedroom, getting ready to spend his free time—which was a luxury for anyone in the BAU—turning it into something that she was going to love touched Penelope. Outside of her family, no one had ever really helped her take care of her daughter, and the fact that he wanted to was suddenly overwhelming.

He looked up to find her studying him and grinned. "Do you want to see what color I got?" he asked.

She nodded and walked over to him wordlessly, waiting as he pulled the top off. "It's Candy Apple Red," he said proudly, and rightfully so. Penelope couldn't have picked out a better color herself—the shade of red was vibrant, just like her daughter's personality. Ava was going to love it.

When she didn't say anything, he lifted his eyes to hers, struck by the intensity. He immediately straightened. "Penelope?"

She lifted her arms up around his neck and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. It wasn't passionate, but there was a torrent of feeling behind it.

"Whoa," he said when she pulled away, lifting his hands to her wrists to hold her in place. "What was that for?"

She stared at him unblinking. "When I told you I loved you the other night…I meant it, but… I didn't know how much I meant it. But right now…right now I know," she said softly.

He smiled gently at her. "I love you, too, Baby Girl."

"It looks so good," Penelope said as she looked around. "I didn't think the red would cover up the pink very well. How did you get it to come out so good?"

"I spent a few summers painting with a contractor while I was in high school," he explained as he used the hammer to pound the cover back onto the paint can.

"Well, lucky for us," she said appreciatively. "I love it, Derek. It's perfect."

"No," he said, as he spun her around to face him. "You're perfect." She hadn't even heard him walk up behind her.

She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you hungry?" she asked. It was nearly nine o'clock and they hadn't had supper yet.

"Famished," he answered, his eyes falling to her lips. "Just…famished."

His lips found hers and he kissed her so forcefully that Penelope was sure her lips were going to be swollen come morning. She wanted him so badly that there was no time for foreplay. She reached for the hem of his t-shirt—they broke their kiss just long enough so she could pull it over his head—and he reached for her face, pulling it right back to his. She reached down for the snap on the jeans she'd put on to paint in, and dragged herself away from him so she could get out of them. He seized the opportunity as well, getting rid of his own. She pulled her t-shirt over her head, then shed her panties and bra. They were standing there unclothed, and Penelope stepped forward, wrapping her hand around his length. He inhaled sharply from her touch. "Oh, God, Derek Morgan," she breathed as she began moving her fist around him. "I want that right now."

"It's all yours," he said raggedly. "Are you ready for me?"

She nodded and they made their way to the floor. He positioned himself between her thighs, and his lips met hers at the same time that he plunged inside of her, muffling her pleasured cry.

There was no build-up—Derek couldn't have started off slowly if he'd wanted to—his pace was quick and hard as he slammed into her. She met each thrust with a fervent lift of her hips, lifting her hands to his shoulders. Her fingernails dug into his skin and he heard her whimper as her body tightened around his. He pulled his lips from hers, his breathing ragged as his body found its own release. He dropped his lips to her shoulder, showering the area with soft kisses as she lay beneath him, breathing heavily from her climax. "Oh, God. Derek!" she shrieked.

"What?" he asked, his head flying up as he looked around for fire or something else worthy of her tone.

"We just had sex in my kids' room!" she said in mortification, squirming as she tried to get out from underneath him—all it was doing was making him hard again. "I am such a horrible mother!" she exclaimed.

"No, you're a sexy mutha," he argued.

"Isn't there some kind of a law about this?" she asked frantically. "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME UP?"

Derek pretended to think about it…and then answered the least important of the two questions.

"Mmm…nope. The only law I recall is the one where it says you must christen each room in the house within the first year of moving in. It's actually my favorite law of all time," he teased.

She finally relaxed beneath him, having realized he wasn't going to let her move. "Thank God you used a drop cloth," she said with a relieved sigh.