Author's Note: This is a pinch hit for C.C. Baptiste written in response to the CCOAC Christmas Fanfic Exchange. It's written especially for klcm! The prompts were: Last Christmas (by WHAM!), Christmas Memory, Fairy Lights, & Mistletoe. All of them will be used in the story.
Thank you for the reviews for last chapter! You guys are the best!
Derek Morgan stepped off the elevator and headed for his room...number 343. He slid the keycard into the lock and waited for the click, then pushed the door open. He stopped in his tracks as he walked into the room, taking in the view. His roommate, whoever she was, was down on her knees beside her bed searching for something. If the sway of her generous ass was any indication, it had fallen way under the bed. He heard an 'oomph,' and then a squeal as she found what she was looking for. Against his better judgment, he cleared his throat, and to his dismay, her ass stopped moving.
"Hello?" she called in a small voice.
"Penelope Garcia, I assume," he said in an amused tone.
She quickly made her way to her feet, and spun around, a shiny earring dangling in her hand. Apparently she'd found what she'd been looking for.
The second she turned to face him, two words flew into his mind: buxom…and blonde. She was pushing her hair away from her face, which was red from having sprung up so quickly, and she was wearing what was quite possibly the lowest cut v-neck shirt he'd ever laid eyes on. The woman was sexy as hell.
And he was in a heap of trouble.
Penelope opened her mouth to speak, but really…there were no words. The man was statuesque. He had the most amazing arms; on one of his biceps there was a tattoo. It was just peeking out from underneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. Penelope had always been of the mind that someone shouldn't have tattoos unless they could do them justice; she had a feeling that his had their fair share of justice…and then some. She had to hold herself back from tearing his shirt off just to find out.
His chest gave way to a tapered waist and the fabric of his jeans molded perfectly to his upper thighs. She could just imagine the muscles beneath the fabric.
She lifted her eyes to his face. He was standing there smirking, and she knew that he was fully aware of how attractive he was. And that was when Preston's words came back to her: Desiree's brother has a reputation for being a bit of a player.
That was like cold water being thrown in her face; Penelope had enough experience with players to know that she didn't want to deal with another one. "That's me," she said.
"Derek Morgan," he said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too," she said, reaching forward. As soon as he clasped her hand in his, Penelope's body started thrumming. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he wouldn't let her. Not until he'd given it a few hearty shakes. When he finally let go, she wiped her hand on pants as if she could get rid of the aftereffect, but it didn't work.
Luckily, Derek wasn't paying attention. He'd slung his bag on the bed and began unpacking; it took him all of two minutes. "First time in Chicago?" he asked conversationally.
"Yes," she answered, as she sat down on the edge of her bed, her fingers still tingling.
"You're gonna love it here," he informed her. "Planning on doing anything special?"
"You mean aside from attending my brother's wedding?" she asked dryly.
He chuckled at her retort. "I guess a wedding is pretty special," he conceded.
"Of course it is," she said. "It's forever."
He shrugged. "We hope, anyway," he said cynically.
"Wha…'we hope?'" she asked.
Derek was an eternal optimist; he believed in love. He just believed in lots of fun in the meantime. There was no doubt in his mind that if his father was alive, his parents would still not only be married, but crazy in love with each other. But it was just too much fun to goad her. "It's no secret that divorce is running rampant in the Unites States today," he reminded her.
"That's because of—" Penelope started in a rush, then forced herself to stop and take a deep breath. This is Desiree's brother she reminded herself.
"Because of what?" he asked, amused at her outburst.
She shook her head. "Nothing," she said, biting her tongue.
He shrugged. "Maybe it's because of my job," he continued. "Unfortunately marriages don't seem to last in my line of work. I'm an FBI agent."
Penelope had to hold back a peal of laughter. Was this guy for real? His phony humility was ludicrous. Did women really fall for this crap? If they did, she was embarrassed for her entire gender. But she decided to have a little fun and play it up. She lifted a hand to her throat and batted her eyelashes. "An FBI agent? Like…a real one?" she asked.
He nodded with a slight grin. She was sure it was just another attempt at false modesty.
"So…you have a gun and a badge and everything?" she asked, pretending to be impressed.
"Well…I'm not exactly sure what 'everything' is, but as far as the badge and the gun go, yes."
"Can I see them?" she asked.
He reached into the front of his bag and pulled his badge out, then handed it to her. She studied the picture on the front; he was staring right into the lens, a challenging gleam in his eyes. He looked so…bad ass. She thrust the badge back at him and stood up. "I have to go shopping," she announced.
He awkwardly grabbed his badge and tucked it back into the front of his bag. "Do you have any idea where to go?" he asked.
She looked around the room frantically for her purse. "I'm just…gonna grab a cab and tell 'em to take me to the mall," he said.
"Which one? You know, if you want—"
"I'm fine," she abruptly cut in as she grabbed her purse off the bed and left. As soon as she pulled the door closed, she sagged against it. She'd tried to tease him and mock him with the whole badge line, but it had backfired. She'd been completely sucked in. Was her brother crazy? Putting her in a room with that…chocolate God? He was like her favorite dessert…she knew she didn't need it, but she wasn't sure she was going to be able to help herself.
Penelope meandered around the mall for a while in search of the pajamas she was going to need for her stay in Chicago. It took longer than it normally would have, as everyone was doing last minute Christmas shopping and the lines were long. She was tempted to buy head to toe flannel just to be safe, but she didn't want to spend her money on something she was never going to wear again. So instead she settled on a few reasonably priced conservative nightgowns that were more her style.
Before she'd arrived back at the hotel, her brother had called to let her know what time everyone was meeting in the dining room. When she'd gone back to her room to take care of her purchases, Derek wasn't there. She'd seen him at dinner, but luckily he'd been seated at another table. She'd tried to not think about him, but she couldn't help it; her gaze had wandered over to him on more than one occasion. He constantly had that charming grin on his face, and she could see that he loved his family, especially his mother.
She really needed to come to her own conclusions about Derek, not judge him based on what his sister and her brother had said. After all, how well did Payton really know her? Surely Derek couldn't be that bad.
Penelope was singing a different tune at two o'clock that morning, when the door to her hotel room flew open and Derek stumbled in…a woman on each arm.