AN: Thanks again all for the wonderful reviews. Yes, I wish they would just get over it and get together too, but then our story would be over and I would be sad! Gotta have something to entertain me until Wednesday. Slight spoilers for Episode 8x09, Magnificent Light, mentioned in passing.

Chapter 6

Morgan rode with Garcia to work, since he had left his truck there when they had returned from California. He had ridden in Ester to Reid's. He passively wondered if people talked about how much time he spent with Garcia—in any other office, going home with a coworker and leaving your car overnight would get the rumor mill started. Not that he gave a damn. Although, if people gossiped that they were together, then actually staying apart would be pointless . . . in the end, it was the perception that could get her in to trouble. He frowned at that thought.

"Woah, hot stuff, what just happened to your sunny disposition?" Penelope asked as she parked the car.

"Hmm?" He said, feigning ignorance.

She simply cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really, Morgan?"

He grinned, he couldn't help it. She looked so incredulous. She huffed at him, then got out of the car, pulling her jacket on as she went. She slammed the door, hard. Then he laughed outright. "Take it easy, sweetness, Ester isn't as young as she used to be."

"Oh. . . you . . you," Garcia was fuming now. She shook a bejeweled finger at him. "You are always so damn persistent when you think something is up with me. But you . . .if I ask you about something you play dumb! Just because I'm not a profiler, Derek Morgan, doesn't mean I'm an idiot! I can see what you are doing."

"Never said you were an idiot, baby . . ." He had no doubt that she was the most brilliant woman he'd ever met. Her IQ probably came close to Reid's.

"Shush! Not done yet!" She interrupted. "You try to dig into my brain all the time, but the minute I ask you about something you always evade. You make me dig, and prod, and poke AND THEN you tell me W.T.H. is going on."

He laughed at her again. She was adorable when she fumed. She, however, did not look amused. He plucked her on the nose with his finger. "You worry too much."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Do I need to remind you of the week we've had? Sometimes I think I can't possibly worry enough." He smiled at her, and knew that his grin had its usual affect on her. She smiled back. "You, Derek Morgan, are going to be the death of me."

That wiped the smile off his face. Too, too close to his thoughts of late. "And there it is again," she stated, frowning. "Are you going to talk to me? No, wait, I know. 'It's personal,' right? Sometimes you are such . . . such a MAN!" She slapped him on the shoulder, whirled, and marched off to the elevator. And just like that she had him smiling again.

"Bye, baby girl!" he called. "Dinner?"

"Not on your life Morgan!" she called over her shoulder. He smiled again. He knew she wasn't really mad at him. That was all that really mattered.

She probably was a bit irked with him though. He did make her work for information at times—not because he distrusted her, but because he didn't share things with her. He knew that she had been remembering last year, when he had been evasive about the reason he did not want to attend a banquet honoring his father's partner. He had claimed it was for personal reasons. Yeah, that hadn't gone over well. Being Garcia, she dug, found the answers, solved the problem, and managed to ease his guilt all in one fell swoop. He supposed he should try to be more open with her. But in this particular instance, he certainly couldn't tell her what was on his mind. "Oh, sorry, Garcia, I was just remembering that someday someone may try to kill you just because they think we're sleeping together, even though we really aren't. As much as I wish we were. But we can't, because I'm afraid if we do, you're going to end up dead." He couldn't even imagine her reaction to that.

He climbed into his truck and thought about what he would do with the rest of his day. Had he realized that Penelope had to work, he probably would have saved his run for later in the day, rather than doing it first thing in the morning. He had been looking forward to spending time with her. Three hours later, he had done all of the odd jobs around the house that had been needing attention. He looked at his watch. Damn, it was only eleven. He had a new property that required some serious TLC. He had been planning to tackle it on a free weekend, but those had been few and far between lately. No time like the present, he supposed.

xxx

Eight long hours later, the new property had plumbing that no longer leaked, a working garbage disposal, and new paint in the bedrooms. Morgan checked his phone as he packed up his tools. He was surprised to see nothing from Garcia. She usually sent him a message or two during the day, whether he was in town or not. He threw on his jacket and headed out into the cold February air to his truck. As he headed for home, he called her.

"You aren't actually mad at me, are you princess?" he asked when she picked up.

He heard her sigh. "Morgan, its Tuesday."

"And?"

"I have support group, silly. That's why I couldn't have dinner with you. And I was swamped at work."

He smiled. "Silly girl."

"You sound tired, D."

"I just spent my entire day busting my ass on a new house. I'm whooped."

"So go home and sleep."

"Yeah, I suppose." He would have rather have seen her.

"You okay?" She asked.

No. I want to you. I'm tired of not having you.

"Derek?"

"Yeah, baby, just . . . you know."

"Yeah, I know. I talked to Reid at lunch though, and he's good, coming in tomorrow when the rest of you do."

"Hey now," he joked, "you found time to call the kid but not me?"

"Go home and go to bed handsome. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Goodnight, beautiful."

"Right back at you love."

As Derek climbed in to bed that night, he wondered if he could really keep his distance from her . . . if he even really should. If people really did perceive them to be a couple anyway, why not act on his feelings? Life was short—if the tragedy that surrounded them reminded them of anything, it was that. They had already spent a decade together without acting on their feelings. For the first time in weeks, he drifted off to sleep thinking of possibilities and a future.

In his dream, he woke up beside her in her bed. She smiled at him, kissed him. And then suddenly, he was walking home from somewhere—the store, maybe? His cell phone rang. "Hello Agent Morgan."

"Who is this?" he asked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"Agent Gideon always recognized my voice when I called. You do not?"

He understood then. Frank Breitkopf. He had forgotten about Gideon's loss at Frank's hands. How had he not thought of it before? He wished he could wake up. Instead, he ran. Even though he knew what was waiting for him, he had to run. He had to try to save her. He pushed open the door to her apartment, called for her. Went to the bed they had shared. And he saw the blood. He saw what was left of the woman who gave his world light and laughter. Just as Gideon had found his friend Sarah on the bed in his home. Suddenly, he was in the previous nightmare, the one had that repeated nearly every night since Maeve's death. He watched her die three times that night. He knew he was screaming when he woke up.

AN2: Yeah, I really don't enjoy torturing Derek. I hope this chapter didn't wander too much, I always have a hard time with transitions. They are always so easy to write when they are together, but its hard to figure out what to do with them when the are apart.