Have Yourself a Merry Christmas

Afternoon, Friday

December 25, 2010

Morgan and Garcia

Chapter Three

He heard her car coming up his block. Esther, her beloved Cadillac, was far from young and kinda rattled and wheezed now. But Garcia wouldn't give her up.

Wearing a smile he hurried to the door, grabbed his coat, and headed outside in time to see her opening up the trunk of her car. He rushed over to carry in the groceries. He never liked her to carry anything heavy if he was around. Whereas any other female friend of his could carry her own darn bags, it was a different story when it came to Garcia.

"Well, well," he called out "what do we got here? My own personal Christmas angel."

She wore a red wool coat and a green checkered scarf. In her hair was what looked like a big Christmas bow. Her high heels were chunky, red and shimmered. Derek chuckled happily at the sight at his festively attired best friend.

She greeted him warmly with "Hey there, baby boy."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek before he reached out and gently smacked her hand, as she was trying to lift a bag. "Don't even try it. Into the house with your fine self and I'll get all this."

"My sexy chauvinist," she cooed.

He raised an eyebrow at her and pretended to pout. "Hey, this is me being a gentleman and I will always be one where you are concerned so deal with it. Now go."

"Okay," she said in a cute tone before sashaying her way into his home. Derek didn't pull his eyes off her till she was inside.

Once he got the first few bags into the house he found her in the kitchen. "Did you buy enough food to feed an army or what?"

"Just enough for a proper Christmas feast."

He grunted, dramatically, as he set down the bags, as if they were straining him, when they were far from even making him break a sweat. "One load down. Twenty to go."

She chuckled. As Derek headed back outside he told her to open some wine for them to drink while they cooked.

It took them over an hour before they had dinner well under way. With the turkey baking away in the stuffing and all the prep work done for the rest of the meal, they headed to the living room so Derek could catch some of the football game.

Kicking off their shoes, wine glasses in their hands (now on their third glass each), they settled onto the couch. Penelope wore a green dress that nicely hugged her curvy body but was made more wholesome with a red sweater over it. Derek had on cream colored pants and a cream angora sweater.

Feeling a little tipsy, Derek boldly lifted Penelope's legs so that they lay over his lap, her back rested against the arm of the couch. He grabbed a throw pillow and situated it behind her.

"Comfy enough, baby girl?"

"Perfect." She gave him a dreamy look.

He smiled smugly. He bet that loser Lynch never put stars in Garcia's eyes like Derek Morgan could- at least he chose to believe that for the sake of his own sanity.

He flipped on the game. As they watched she asked the silliest questions about it, making him laugh and roll his eyes. Finally she said "I've never been much into sports," which Derek already knew.

"No. Really?" he teased.

She playfully smacked his arm. "Hush or else I'll turn on the parade."

"Long over."

"Then I'll turn on a marathon of sappy Christmas movies." She grabbed the remote. "Try me. I will do it." She waved the remote toward the tv and acted like she was about to press the buttons.

He grabbed her hand and tugged the remote toward him, pulling her with it, and soon she was very near him, their faces inches apart. The temperature spiked in the room like the furnace was just kicked up to full blast.

He dragged out the words "Stop it."

"What if I don't wanna? What are you gonna do to stop me?" Her eyes danced with amusement.

Just then the announcers cried "Touchdown!"

Derek jerked his eyes to the TV, out of habit, and Penelope pushed his chest.

She cried "You are such a man!"

"And don't you ever forget that for a second cause I will teach you a lesson if I gotta."

She flushed a little at his throaty words. The game went on. Derek watched a little, flirted a lot and had a great afternoon with his baby girl. His hands kept smoothing up and down her bare leg as they sat there chilling with each other.

The wine was making him feel loose and comfortable. Over dinner they both had two more glasses and by the time dessert came the bottle was empty.

Derek stopped Penelope from cleaning up the table. "Leave it, woman. Come on. Lets go do a Morgan Christmas tradition."

He took her hand and led her back to the living room. After taking out a DVD he put it in the player and started it. Penelope let out a whoop of laughter at what popped up on screen. It was a video of a fire burning in a fire place.

She pressed her hand to her chest. "That is cheesetastic. That's your family's tradition?"

"No, silly, a real fire is but, like I told you, I don't got a fireplace."

"Where in the world did you get that DVD and what in heaven's name inspired you to buy it?" she teased. "Is this how Derek Morgan seduces woman? Oh, the things you learn that you never wanted to know. The fantasy is shattered!"

"Hush! If you must know this DVD was a gift from a date years ago. She figured it was romantic."

Penelope collapsed on the couch laughing. Derek crouched in front of her, chuckling himself, and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Thank you very much for spending tonight with me. Having you here makes it a perfect Christmas."

Her breath hitched. The moment stilled. Their eyes searched each others. Her hand rose and caressed his cheek.

"Derek,"she whispered.

Feeling like her voice was drawing him in, he leaned closer to her until their lips almost touched. Then his cell phone started to ring.

"Derek," she whispered again.

He loved the throaty way she said his name. Damn, it never sounded that good on anyone else's lips. Speaking of lips, he loved how hers looked with lipstick on them- especially red lipstick. She wore red lipstick better than any other woman on earth.

As he crouched there, one hand was on the couch to keep his balance but the other tangled in her hair, he ground out "Baby girl," his tone gravelly with growing want.

"Derek, your phone," she said, almost nervously.

He took a moment to figure out what the hell she meant. His eyes widened some. Your phone. Hmm. That wasn't what he expected to hear fall from her lips.

Maybe, please or yes. But not Your phone.

He eased back a little, deflated. "Huh?"

"You missed a call."

Derek looked over at the phone on the coffee table. His shoulders slumped. "Oh, um, all right." He stood and then bent to grab the phone, reading the screen. "Its Sarah. I better call back."

"Sure."

He looked at her for a long moment. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing uneven. He hated that she had stopped him from kissing her. He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat and then turned away from her, as he pressed speed dial five for his sister.

"Hey, sis, merry Christmas!"

"Tell everyone I said hi," Penelope said, as she stood and straightened her clothes.

"Garcia says hi. How's it going up there? Are you all stuffed?"

Penelope walked up behind Derek and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back. He turned and pulled her into a tight hug, still yammering at his sister, his tone becoming less forced and more jubilant with every moment he held his baby girl.

He tipped up her chin and stared into her eyes. Dark, warm love filled eyes that told him he shouldn't worry about anything because they would find their way one day. He believed in her and the silent promises she made him in that moment.

He would always believe in Penelope because when he did then his life felt like it made sense. He had learned his lesson years ago about letting doubt beat him down.

Never again. This Christmas he would believe that love would win out in the end.

(So here's my lifelong wish,

my grown up Christmas list,

not for myself but for a world in need:

No more lives torn apart.

That war would never start.

And time would heal all hearts!

-x-x

Every man would have a friend.

Right would always win.

Love would never end.

-x-x

This is my grown up Christmas list) (Michael Buble)