"Do things like this even happen?" Derek asked the next Tuesday morning as he refilled his coffee cup in the kitchen at the BAU.

Penelope laughed. "Of course they do. And I bet they even happened all the time before you were married."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Geez. Has it been that long since I've been hit on?" he asked.

"I doubt it," Penelope told him. "You were probably just too preoccupied to notice. Now that the girls are getting older and they can do things for themselves, it leaves Daddy Morgan a little more time to notice things." She nudged him with her shoulder. "Like the daycare lady asking him out on a date," she teased.

"Stop," Derek said. "I can't believe I forgot what it was like to be hit on."

She nodded. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Derek's grin widened. "It really does. Makes me feel hot again."

She laughed. "You are hot," she reminded him.

He did a little dance. "You want a piece of Derek Morgan?" he joked.

Penelope grinned as she watched his hips sway back and forth. "I think I'm all set, but apparently there are women waiting in line for you."

"Want a reservation?" he teased, eyes dancing.

She rolled her eyes in answer. "So, are you going to go?" she pressed.

He frowned. "Would it be too weird?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. That's for you to decide," she said. "And hey—you were saying you wanted to get laid again. This could be your chance."

"I can't…bang one of the girls' providers!" he said in disbelief.

"Oh, my God! You have been out of circulation for a long time. "Bangin'" is so late 90's early 2000's."

He sighed. "Dating is tough."

Penelope smiled. "Yeah. Wait 'til you actually start doing it."

"Sex?" he asked in a panic.

"No! Dating," she clarified.

"Oh, right," he said with a nod. "I knew what you meant."

Sweet Lord. Derek Morgan was nervous about sex? Now that was a sight to behold, Penelope thought with a grin.

___

Derek was sitting across from his date that Saturday night nodding, trying to feign interest in whatever she was saying. Something about the Twilight movies, maybe? He didn't know. She'd been talking non-stop for the last forty-five minutes. Whatever it was she was still going on about, he wasn't really interested.

He wished he hadn't been the one who was driving. That way he could have the rest of the wine sitting in the chiller. Instead, he would have to settle for just finishing the one and only glass he'd get to have tonight.

___

This had been a bad idea; she'd known it was a bad idea from the beginning. But she'd been trying to make a statement. The Max thing was over and done with, and of course she knew that, but she was finally ready to move on. So she'd forced Prentiss, JJ, and Will to come with her tonight.

JJ's mother was visiting, and she'd volunteered to watch Henry for them. They were on the dance floor—and it was sweet, really. Will handled his wife as if she could break if he made the wrong move. Little did he know that JJ wasn't as fragile as he thought she was. She was pretty tough when she needed to be.

As usual, Prentiss had been whisked away almost immediately. She had that influence over men. She walked in, and they just seemed to flock.

It hadn't been long after that when Penelope had been invited to dance, and she'd taken the man up on his offer. He was handsome, and he was friendly. Maybe just a tad too friendly. That was confirmed when he whispered in her ear. "Want to get out of here?"

"I…" She stood there for a minute, weighing her options. "I…can't," she finally said. It wasn't that she wasn't in the mood—that was for sure. She could certainly use a night of good lovin'.

The problem was…his skin wasn't dark enough, his shoulders weren't broad enough, and dammitt…his eyes weren't even brown.

She quickly walked away and headed for Prentiss. She gave her friends arm a tug. "Hey. I'm outta here," she said.

"I'll be right back," Prentiss told her dance partner. "Hey," she said, catching up to Penelope near the exit. "This was your idea," she reminded her friend.

Penelope nodded. "Yeah. Not one of my finer ones. Sorry."

Prentiss shook her head in confusion. "What's going on?"

Penelope shrugged. "I felt like I needed to…go out and…" She smiled weakly. "Get my groove thing on to prove that I'd moved on." She shook her head. "I didn't. I have moved on and it was…silly of me to think that I had to something to prove."

Prentiss grinned. "That was silly of you."

Penelope nodded. "Now, go do your thing," she told her friend. "And if you bring him home…" She lifted an eyebrow and grinned. "Get off once for me."

Prentiss wrinkled her nose. "I cannot believe you just said that."

Penelope grinned in return. "Too late to take it back." She leaned sideways so she could she the man Prentiss had been dancing with. The man was certainly a treat to look at. He had a fantastic ass. "Enjoy your night," she said.

___

"I had a great time tonight," Amanda whispered, leaning closer to Derek.

Of course she had, he thought. Because she hadn't shut up for more than ten seconds. And miraculously, she hadn't even gotten winded once. Derek leaned back at the waist as she moved forward—until finally she straightened, giving him a curious look.

"So did I," he said unconvincingly, as he reached forward and gave her shoulder an awkward pat. He supposed her should kissed her…it would be the polite thing to do. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Her hair just wasn't blonde enough, her grin just wasn't wide enough…and her eyes didn't smile. And dammitt...he'd never seen her make his girls so happy that their smiles could light up a room.

___

OK, Penelope finally admitted to herself now that she was safely ensconced in her favorite fleece blanket on her comfy couch. So maybe she hadn't gone out just to prove she was over Max. Maybe—just maybe—there was a teeny tiny part of her that had been a teeny tiny bit jealous that Derek was going out on a date. So she'd gone out on the prowl.

She sighed as she looked at the clock. Nine p.m. Derek was probably just walking his date (Penelope scowled at the thought) to her front door. His lips were probably coming down onto hers right now, and—

Her thoughts were interrupted by her doorbell. She groaned as she stood up. "Mrs. Wilkerson," she yelled. "I still haven't seen your cat." She pulled her door back. "And no, I don't have any…" Her voice trailed off when she saw Derek standing there. "Sugar," she finished softly. She leaned her head against the doorframe. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

He didn't say anything, just stood there looking at her. His eyes had an intensity in them she'd never seen before and she couldn't tear her own away.

She straightened slowly, then leaned forward and grabbed the front of his jacked, pulling him towards her. His lips came down onto hers and he lifted his hands, grabbing her face to hold her still. His kiss was rough and hard—his tongue plunging forward into her mouth. She moaned in pleasure at his taste—a hint of wine and then…Derek. He tasted exactly the way she'd imagined he would. And she didn't even realize she'd imagined it until this exact moment. His breathing was ragged when he pulled away. He leaned forward until his forehead was resting on hers. He stood there until his breathing evened out.

Then he finally answered her question. "I'm here for some…" She watched his lips twitch as he fought back a grin. "Sugar."