AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! This story shall be done before 2014 is ushered in. Only one chapter left after this one (a New Year's treat! Tee hee)...

Chapter 36

Derek followed Penelope as she headed through her bedroom doorway, moving the beaded curtain that covered the threshold with one hand as he passed through. That was a clever touch, those beads, very artistic and very Penelope. Her apartment was small, but it had an open floor plan that made it look bigger. He took a seat on the couch, watching her head to her kitchen, the sway of her rounded backside drawing his attention.

That attention continued as she bent over, reaching into a cabinet for something. She riffled for a moment before coming up with two wine glasses, the glow of triumph in her gorgeous brown eyes. He loved when she looked like that—satisfied with herself and the world around her. He remembered her having that look after multiple tests she'd taken so many years ago...or when she'd mastered something new when they'd made love.

He had a feeling she wasn't as calm or as happy as she appeared to be a second ago. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the wine bottle that was sitting on her counter. It was a larger bottle of red wine, and Derek guessed it was either a Cabernet or a Pinot Noir.

Derek was happy—very happy. He was glad she was nervous, even happier he'd caught her off guard. She'd been too composed, too precise and planned, and he'd been the one flustered. He hated that.

It wasn't that he wanted to be in control. He wasn't a "control freak" like so many others. It was that the scripted Penelope of an hour ago lacked something—a passion, a fire, a want—and he needed to see if that passion still existed. God, he needed to know.

Because hearing her explanation, knowing what really happened, it became crystal clear to him: the love between them should never have died. By the time she'd left him yet again, he'd known it hadn't...

At least for him.

You were my soulmate, she'd said. She was his, too. Still was. Always would be.

Was he still hers?

He focused on her again and watched her moving about. Lifting her bottle opener, she started the process of removing the cork and again was met with success. She poured them two glasses and then started toward the couch.

"I think I'm supposed to let the wine breathe for a moment or so," she said, handing him his glass, "but I never do."

Derek felt the corner of his mouth go up. "Instant gratification?" His smile was for himself. It was damned ironic; they were due for some instant gratification!

She smiled slightly, too. "I guess so."

She stood there next to him, as if she were contemplating a seat. There wasn't a whole lot of seating in the room: the seat next to him, or another chair that had clothes and other odds and ends piled on it. Rather than move everything, she did the reasonable thing and sat next to him.

That bothered him. She was so jumpy, and he didn't know why. Yeah, he'd broken in and he'd surprised her, but he wasn't going to hurt her. Hell, he'd offered to fix the damned screen, no harm, no foul. Was it nerves...or did she really want to bid him goodbye forever?

He wasn't going there. He didn't want to jump to conclusions about what she was feeling. They had to talk, and now was as good a time as any.

"You asked why I was here," he stated bluntly, placing his wine glass down on the table.

Oh, boy. Here it comes. She still wasn't ready; she swallowed hard, and then her eyes watered as she coughed just a little.

He scowled at her, his dark eyes showing his frustration. "Dammit, Penelope, would you calm down? I just want to ask you some questions."

She frowned back at him. "Easy for you to say! You arrive unannounced, and—"

"You did, too."

She arched a brow, something she'd perfected from him years ago. "And you were calm and easygoing after I'd done so?"

Derek grinned, picked up his wine glass, and saluted her with it. "Touche, Baby Girl."

Baby Girl! He'd called her Baby Girl. The words off his tongue sounded so sweet to her, familiar and sweet, full of memories and love.

Fortified, she took a deep breath. "Go ahead, Derek. Ask your questions."

She watched as he took a breath—belying his own nerves—and started to talk.

"You asked me what I was here for, but I have the same question for you. Why? Why did you come here—to Quantico—after all these years?"

For a second, she thought about not telling him the complete truth, saying something cool like she'd just gotten a job there, or was meeting a friend, but she was done with that. She was going to lay herself bare and open, and maybe, just maybe, they might somehow have a chance.

"I wanted to see you," she answered honestly.

"I was the main reason you came here?" he asked, his voice soft and low, gently leading.

She nodded. "I'd gotten a job here, but I knew you were here, too. Like I said, I'd kept tabs on you for years." She thought about his job and how creepy what she'd just said could've sounded and quickly added, "Not like a stalker or anything like that!"

He chuckled. "I didn't think so."

His laugh sounded so good to her. She'd missed it, missed the twinkle in his eyes, how he'd made everyone feel good when he laughed—especially her. Smiling, too, she took another sip of her wine.

He was watching her drink, those dark eyes focused in on her. "You said that you thought about me and that you still do."

She put her glass down. "I always do."

"Do you think of me as the boy I was then," he questioned, "or the man I am now?"

Warm chocolate eyes held her captive as she tried to think of the answer. It wasn't an easy question to answer, especially with the heat his gaze was making her feel.

"I don't really know," she replied, closing her eyes so she could focus more. "A little of both, I think. I'd remember the Derek I knew and loved and try so hard to think of what you'd be like now."

"Did I disappoint?"

She opened her eyes and answered quickly, "No. Mercy, no."

Good gravy, how on earth could he ever disappoint? He was stunning, successful, intelligent...perfection. That was one thing that hadn't changed—he was perfection then; he was still perfection now.

He cleared his throat. She'd been caught staring at him... She felt her cheeks heating.

"What did you plan to do," he asked, "after you finally met me again?"

Oh, boy. "I knew I needed to tell you what happened and to tell you I was sorry."

He arched a brow. "That was all?"

This was far harder—to admit she'd wanted to rekindle what had been there, when he'd so obviously moved on.

Buck up, Penelope, and say it, she scolded herself.

She shook her head, and panic started to rise in her as he stood up. Was he leaving?

"No. I'd hoped...that is, I mean—"

Say it, damn it!

"Is it the same thing I'm hoping for now?" he asked, interrupting her, taking her hand and guiding her to standing.

There was a soft glow in his eyes that she'd seen so many times in the past, that she'd been longing for with everything in her being since she'd laid eyes on him again.

And there was no doubt that he was longing, too.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded vigorously and then launched herself into his arms just as he opened them.

He held her tight against his chest, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Oh, Baby Girl."

"I didn't dare hope or dream," she half-spoke, half-sobbed into his chest. "I can barely believe it!"

"Me, neither," he answered.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"No," he answered, holding her face in his hands. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault, or my fault, either." He traced the side of her face with his thumb, the roughness and strength soothing her. "It just happened."

Her heart was in her throat as she said, "I wish—"

"Hush," he said, holding her close. "It's over now, and we're together again."

"I love you," she said, sniffling and smiling at the same time.

"That's a good thing," he murmured into her hair, "because I love you, too."

"A very good thing," she said, feeling his warmth and smelling his familiar scent. She smiled to herself; he still used Tide detergent.

Yet, despite her joy, she couldn't help but think of the wasted years and feel a little cheated. "We missed so much time..."

"Big deal. We'll have fun catching up," he replied, making her giggle with the simplicity of it.

"Oh, how I needed you!" She cupped his cheek in her hand. "I'm always going to love you—past, present, the future."

His eyes flashed with a sizzle as they settled on her lips. "Any incarnation of you, Baby Girl...I'll be drawn to you."

"Derek," she murmured as he closed the gap, his mouth taking hers in a fierce, yet tender kiss.

She kissed him back, pouring out all the passion she felt into the kiss. All of the magic came back again, and pure pleasure exploded with the kiss. She moaned against him as he changed angles, fitting his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue between her lips, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him in an equally intense embrace.

Penelope gasped when he drew his mouth away, only to moan again as he began to kiss the side of her neck. She closed her eyes and let herself drift away into his arms.

"Sweetheart?"

"Hmm?" she asked lazily, not bothering to open her eyes.

"The drawing you gave me was nice," he murmured, continuing to place kisses on her neck, "but it needs to be updated."

His temple brushed her lips, so she kissed it. "It does?"

"Hell, yes," he answered, lifting his head. "I look quite a bit different from all those years ago."

She opened her eyes, a seductive smile curving her lips. "You do, hmm?"

He gave her a smacking kiss on her lips. "I think you need some inspiration..."

With that, he started toward the beaded curtain to her bedroom, after he scooped her up in his arms...which was right where she belonged.