Part twenty-three:

Penelope didn't make it home from the hospital before Mick's big party, so they'd brought the party to her. But the moment her kidneys began to function properly again, she busted out of the little white room so fast that her doctors called it a miracle.

She called it getting better.

Derek took her home on the morning of the first hard frost – so the air was still chilly when he helped her into a warm jacket and a clean hat. They drove in companionable silence, till she said, "I want to stop at the cemetery."

"Isn't that a little morbid?" Derek asked.

Penelope shook her head and sighed. "I need to talk to Dave," she said very quietly. "I need to apologize."

"Penelope, there's nothing to apologize for – and he's probably saying the same thing and shaking his head at you right now," he said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "He's always watching over you, Baby Girl."

"Yes, I know that," Penelope whispered. "Believe me, I know."

"Pen –"

"I've seen him a few times," she said quietly. "And he's always begging me to come with him, Derek." She looked out the window, too afraid to face him. "I almost did; that day when I told you all to stay away from the hospital. I saw him in my room and I almost – I almost gave up."

"But you didn't," Derek said firmly. "And you have nothing to apologize for. You are getting better: that isn't a crime, Penelope."

She sighed and whispered, "No, but I owe him an explanation."

Derek didn't say anything else, just altered their course. It wasn't long before they were as close to Rossi's grave as the road would allow. Penelope got out of the car and walked slowly over the hills to her husband's grave. She sat down right by the headstone, sprucing up the fake flowers that the kids had laid there a few months before.

"Hey," she whispered.

She sat there, not saying much else because she couldn't make the words form. Eventually, she leaned against the cold granite of the headstone, closing her eyes. She felt Derek's warmth before she heard him – he was warm in this cold, cold place. She looked up at him and smiled sadly.

Derek knelt beside her and put his hand flat on the headstone. "Dave," he said quietly, "I'm going to do my best to take care of her. For the rest of our lives. But when the time comes, really comes, you can have Penelope back. Okay? But not till then."

She sighed softly and whispered, "I'm sorry, Dave, but I'm… I'm not ready to go." She looked over at Derek and smiled a little before she offered him her hand. He helped her to her feet and pulled her into his arms for a warm embrace. "It's cold, Derek," she complained. "Let's go home, okay?"

"Absolutely," he agreed. "The kids are at school, so we can have a nice quiet day till they get home –"

She smiled a little and squeezed his hand. "I'd like that," she murmured.

The house seemed full of life when they arrived back. Munchkin came out of hiding and immediately took up a protective spot on the couch with Penelope while Derek puttered around, putting together a light breakfast. The kids had left little nick-knacks and little personal touches around the living room, from Mick's hand-held games to Wanda's sketch pads filled with drawings and fabric notes. And Derek's old leather jacket was draped over the back of one of the recliners which he'd evidently claimed as his. Not that she was complaining.

Derek brought her a tray with fruit and whole wheat toast on it – and a cup of hot tea with lemon and honey. He gave her a gentle, sweet kiss before he went back into the kitchen, letting her eat quietly. "I thought we could have sandwiches for lunch," he called, "unless you want something else – I can order in or go out and get something…"

"Sandwiches are fine," Penelope said with a small smile as she ate her food.

When he came back out of the kitchen, he found Munchkin's head on Penelope's lap and the empty tray abandoned off on the end table. Penelope was idly stroking the puppy's head and smiling. "She missed you," Derek said, sitting down next to them on the couch. "She's glad her momma's home."

Penelope chuckled and said, "I'm not her momma, Hot Stuff. I'm just her friend."

"You try telling that to mopey face over there," Derek teased.

She smiled and murmured, "Did you miss me?"

"How could I?" he replied. "I was with you every day –"

"But the nights were cold and alone," she whispered.

"Baby Girl," he murmured, "you stop right there. Because you're home and I moved into your room last night and –"

"You moved into my room?" she asked, looking over at him with eyes full of tears.

"Yeah," he said simply. "You won't be alone anymore."

She leaned against him and smiled. "I love you," she whispered.

"You're not going to love picking up my old dirty drawers," he teased.

"Mmm, no, but that's because I'm going to re-train you to put your boxers in the hamper," she replied. "You need to be housebroken again. You've been on your own too long, old man."

"Does this housebreaking come with positive rewards for picking up after myself?" he teased.

She smirked. "That can be arranged, Mr. Morgan."

"Would you like to adjourn to our bedroom and give me some positive reinforcement for the new setup?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking back. "And let me know if you like the new bedding JJ went out and picked up?"

Penelope chuckled. "You're about as subtle as a hammer to the skull," she said with a chuckle.

"Mrs. Rossi, I don't know what you mean," he replied with a grin on his lips. "I was just suggesting that you might like a nap."

"Because I haven't been doing anything for weeks?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you make everything so difficult?" he asked, getting up and stretching. She cringed when she heard his back pop, but he didn't even flinch. He smiled down at her and offered her his hand. "Coming with me?"

"No nap," she said warningly.

"No nap," he agreed, winking.

She took his hand and they walked upstairs. She took in her bedroom, transformed. Several boxes sat in the corner, and Derek said, "I wasn't sure what you wanted me to do with Dave's things."

"Boxes are okay," she murmured. "And I love the bedding. JJ has good taste. Is she still here or –"

"No, she bought it on the net and had it delivered," Derek said. "She's back south but if we need her, we're supposed to call her immediately."

Penelope nodded. "I can deal with that," she said softly. "And you left your socks on the floor."

He chuckled. "I should've just shoved them under the bed –"

She pointed to the far corner. "Hamper's right there, buddy," she said pointedly. "Dirty clothes go in there so I can sort them and wash them. Don't make me put them in there or you will get smashed like a bug."

He immediately came around the bed to grab his dirty socks. "Yes, ma'am," he teased, lobbing them into the hamper from where he was standing. "Any other fundamental rules I need to know?" he inquired, grinning.

"Never push the bed all the way to the wall – the headboard is old and it has a bad tendency to slam against the wall if it's too close and you're… a restless sleeper," she said, trying to look innocent.

"You mean if you're vigorously making love," he corrected.

"Either or," she replied.

"That's a theory I'd like to test," he replied all too cheerfully.

Penelope felt a sudden flash of emotion that she tried like hell to hide. They hadn't made love since she'd started treatment. Yes, she knew on some level that he knew she wasn't the same physically as then – he'd helped change her bandages and clothes often enough – but she suddenly felt terrified that he might just reject her based on the change. That he'd decide that she was lacking and just up and walk away. That was the whole reason she'd had implants done after her second round of treatments – because she'd feared losing Dave to someone who was whole.

He noticed her hesitation and said, "Penelope, what's wrong – talk to me, Baby Girl…"

She closed her eyes and spoke the words before she could stop them, hide them, be ashamed of them. "I love you – and I want you – but I don't want you to see me like this," she whispered. "You won't like it – you won't love it. I'm not… I don't…"

"Penelope," he said softly, wrapping her up in his embrace, "I don't love your breasts: I love you, silly girl. I don't care if you have them or not – though they were fun while they were here – because I still have you. And don't you dare think I'm going to run away because you don't have them. Okay? I love you. And I want you to be happy."

She sighed and whispered, "I can't turn off the little voice in my head that thinks you're just going to get pissed and leave me here alone and –"

"Don't turn it off," he murmured, "but don't believe that voice. Because it lies to you."

She opened her eyes and saw the sincerity, the love and desire upon his face, and surrendered to the overwhelming urge to just kiss him. It was a slow, soft, sweet kiss, but so full of everything she felt at that moment – worry, anxiety, need, love, hope…

"Let me show you how much I love you," he whispered. "Okay?"

"Okay," she breathed, nodding just a little, the motion almost imperceptible. She was going to put her heart, and her happiness, in his hands – and if he broke her, then what? But if she didn't, how could she live with herself or him? Wasn't this what she wanted?

She had the urge to back away from the intensity in his gaze, but didn't. Instead, she dove right in – and held her breath as she kissed him like her life depended on it. And in a way, it did.

"Hey now," he whispered between kisses, "we've got our entire lives to –"

"I don't want to wait anymore for anything," Penelope insisted softly. "I've beaten cancer three times – well, two and probably three. There's no guarantee…"

He growled low in the back of his throat. "I wasn't saying wait," he said firmly, "just slow down a little. You've only just gotten out of the hospital. We can take our time, Baby Girl. You're home now."

She paused, cocking her head and looking at him. "So you're saying you don't want to have sex?"

"No, I'm saying – well, hell," he sighed. "I'm saying that we don't have to rush things just because you're home. I want to make love to you – believe me, gorgeous, it's been on my mind for months. Having you home and ready to have some fun… But you're just out of the hospital and still not 100%."

"Excuses," she said stubbornly. "You just don't want to see me naked."

"No," he said firmly, pulling her close again. "Because if it makes you feel better, we can take all our clothes off and take a nap like that. I don't want to push you past your boundaries right now."

She scowled at him. "I'm not a porcelain doll, Derek Morgan."

He gently propelled them toward the bed. She fell back when her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he stepped back, taking off his shirt and jeans. "You, Penelope, need to chill out a little," he said, kneeling at her feet and taking her shoes off one at a time. "We don't have to rush into the fucking," Derek commented dryly. "I want to know that you're up to it before we get into that."

"You said you were going to show me how much you love me," she complained as he worked her yoga pants down her legs.

His head popped up over the edge of the bed and he glared at her. "Love doesn't automatically equal sex," he said warningly. "Remember?"

The ten years they'd been friends before they'd taken that leap into the more complicated – oh, who was she kidding? They'd been complicated friends before they'd been complicated lovers. But those ten years, she'd been loved – really loved – and they'd never even kissed.

It was the simple gestures, like what he was doing now. He was undressing her with tender care, wanting her to see that it didn't matter what she looked like – he loved her no matter what. Silent, stunned tears began to roll down her cheeks, and he brushed them away before he pulled back the blankets. He guided her beneath the covers, only in her panties and his boxers, and held her so closely that she could feel his heart beating in time with her own.

Resting her head against his chest, she relaxed into sleep.

"Your curfew is midnight," Derek reminded Wanda as Penelope came into the kitchen. "If your movie is going to run later than that, you call me first." He held out a fifty dollar bill and frowned at his daughter.

"Yes, Dad," Wanda sighed, rolling her eyes.

"And your homework has to be done tomorrow," he said firmly. "Completely finished. Or we won't move your sewing things into my room on Sunday."

Wanda's eye rolling was gone in a flash. "What? You mean it? I'm going to get my own sewing room again?" she asked excitedly. "But where are you going to sleep?"

Penelope spoke up. "With me," she said simply.

Mick looked up from his homework on the kitchen table and made a face. "Ugh," he muttered. "Please don't talk about sex. After hearing about Wanda's new boyfriend, I think I might barf."

Derek scowled at Wanda and withheld the money. "What new boyfriend?"

Wanda sighed and said, "He's not coming to the movies, Dad…"

"Do I need to swing by his house and put the fear of god into him?" Derek rumbled.

"No," Wanda said. "He's just a stupid boy in my biology lab – "

Penelope smirked. "Science geeks are freaks in bed," she teased.

Wanda's eyes went wide and she spluttered. "But – but – no, we're just friends, we're not going out or anything –"

Derek glared at Penelope. "Do not encourage her," he growled.

Penelope chuckled. "What are you going to go see?" she asked, wandering over to the fridge.

"The Planet of the Apes –"

Penelope groaned. "That's been remade like thirty times," she sighed. "And it never gets any better."

"Well, I haven't seen it," Wanda said, pouting. "And it's just me and some of the girls from school – no boys, daddy."

"Are you getting dinner while you're out?" Derek asked.

"What's with the third degree?" Wanda whined. "Can't I just go out on Friday night and –"

He sighed and said, "Fine – don't wreck the car. And bring back my change."

Wanda smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Daddy –"

"And if I find out that you've been drinking or doing anything like that, I won't bail you out of jail," he warned.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Daddy."

Once she was gone, Mick rolled his eyes. "I thought she'd never leave – I didn't realize till I could hear her better how annoying she sounds," he commented wryly. "What's for supper?"

"Um," Derek said, looking at Penelope. "What do you want? I can go pick up whatever –"

"We've got eggs and bread," Penelope said. "How about fried eggs and toast?"

Mick sighed. "That's about all Wanda can cook," he complained. "I'm tired of eggs."

Penelope smiled. "Then let me get dressed and we'll go out," she said.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Are you up to –"

"Absolutely!" she exclaimed. "Besides, we should do things like a family, shouldn't we?" She came over and ruffled Mick's hair, smiling as she leaned over his shoulder to look at his homework. "What do you want, kiddo?" she asked.

Mick looked up at her, brow furrowed. "You want me to choose?" he asked.

"Hey, I've been on hospital food for a couple months," she reminded him. "I don't know what real food tastes like anymore."

"Mexican," Mick said firmly.

"Then I'm going to go get changed and we'll go grab dinner," Penelope promised. "Derek, will you call Miguel's and have them hold us a table? The number is on the fridge."

Derek nodded, hesitating to interrupt her little bonding moment with his son. "Okay," he said. "Do you need any help –"

"You've helped enough, Hot Stuff," she said with a tiny smile, heading out of the room.

A few minutes later, she came back down the stairs in comfortable yoga pants and a loose sweater – and her beat up old ugly boots – feeling much more suited to go out than she had in her nightgown and robe. She'd even changed her hat and smiled to see the very beginnings of peach fuzz on her head.

Mick was already in his coat and Derek was in his leather jacket, and stood there, holding her wool peacoat in hand with a smile. She walked right up to him and gave him a quick, tender kiss and moved to take it from him. He had other ideas, however, and held it up for her to slip into.

"You two are kind of gross," Mick commented.

Penelope smiled over at him. "We used to be much, much worse," she said cheerfully. "Be glad we're not making out at the restaurant."

Mick scowled. "No," he said in a clipped tone.

Derek chuckled and said, "Just for that… we might just have to."

Mick looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him up. "Please don't," he pleaded.

Penelope grinned at him. "Kiddo, just wait till you fall in love," she said softly. "You'll understand then."

"No way, man," Mick said. "It's bad enough getting a stiffy in class – kissing people in public is not going to happen."

Derek rolled his eyes and shook his head. "That's not something you're supposed to talk about in public," he reminded his son.

"It's just you and Mom," Mick countered. "Besides, you get one whenever you're around her more than a couple minutes, so what's the big deal?"

Penelope blushed and said, "Oh dear."

Derek sighed again. "Okay, dinner," he finally said. "Let's go – and no more sex talk from either of you tonight. Let's talk about Thanksgiving or something. That's only a couple of weeks away."

"Good idea," Penelope agreed, taking Derek's arm. "Maybe we should do something special?"

"As long as it doesn't involve awkward sex conversations," he stipulated.

"When did you get to be a prude?" she teased.

When she slapped him on the ass, she giggled at the look of horror on Mick's face – and laughed even harder when she saw the look on Derek's face. He looked rather like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi-truck. What made her feel slightly perverse was the sudden want to do it again… but that could wait till they were safely in bed for the night.

She wasn't going to take no for an answer this time.