Chapter 1

AN: A new idea that sprung up. I don't own a thing.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this damn movie again," Morgan said, holding a crying Penelope against his chest. She was positively sniveling. "Honey: why do you want to watch it if it makes you cry?"

She sat up, hiccupped, grabbed a Kleenex, and blew her nose. "Because it's good," she answered simply.

"Baby Girl, the three stooges are good too. At least they make you laugh!"

"Not in the same ballpark, Hot Stuff. God!" she said, throwing an aptly named throw pillow at him. "You have no romance in you whatsoever."

"'Cause I don't blubber over 'Titanic'?" he grinned as she glared at him. "Anyway, you know the boat's gonna sink; story's over."

She couldn't help but smile. He was making her laugh, so she wouldn't go to bed sad. This was their usual Friday night. Movie (Alternating who picked), popcorn, wine or beer (Alternating who picked). It was a tradition. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, not noticing that her low slung pajama bottoms dipped lower and her top rode higher. After all, it was just Derek; he'd practically seen it all anyway.

"Good night, Hot Stuff. Couch is ready; or are you going to come make it a good night?' she teased, pursing her lips and winking over her shoulder as she walked to her room.

He laughed, "Someday soon, princess, I'm going to take you up on that offer."

"Promises, promises," she called, shutting her bedroom door.

Derek watched the door close and kept grinning. Nothing felt as good as his Fridays with Garcia. It was like coming home, where he belonged. All week, he chased bad guys around the country, using his brain and his brawn to save lives. Coming here, he vegetated. Yep, nothing felt this good.

He pulled his t-shirt off and shucked his jeans, climbing on to the spot where they were just sitting. He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. Perfect, yep.

So, what the hell was wrong?

He groaned as his mind went there again. She was his best friend, for God sakes! He wasn't supposed to be thinking about kissing those gorgeous red lip. He wasn't supposed to be sneaking peeks at her breasts whenever he could. Even tonight, when she stretched, he wanted to kneel before her and place kisses on her abdomen, peeling the low waist of her pajamas down further, so he could….

Get a hold of yourself, Morgan! he scolded himself. Reid told him that the average man thinks about sex seven times a day; for once, he was not proud to be above average!

This started about a year ago. He was dating some girl (Collette? Colleen?), and she was going out with good old Kevin Lynch. They had their usual Friday night movie night, and, for some stupid reason, they agreed to double date on Saturday.

It was the worst decision Derek ever made.

Penelope came dressed to the nines in hot pink, beyond gorgeous. She was always pretty, but she was on display tonight. He let out a low whistle, saying, "Woman, you are a goddess!" He offered his arm, but Lynch was there quicker. It peeved him, but he let it go. After all, Lynch was her date, and he had his date (Connie?)

At the dinner table, the throaty laughter and teasing glances she shot Lynch drove him crazy. His date, Corrine (Yes!), was laughing at his comments and flirting with him. They fell flat; for a gorgeous woman, she didn't have a clue how to flirt. He watched Garcia whisper something to Lynch that made him blush to his ears, and it bugged him too. He desperately wanted to know what she said. Kevin moved the fall of her stunning golden curls to whisper something back, and she blushed. Derek felt a headache coming on, and a tick in his jaw, and he had to look away.

When Garcia kissed Lynch goodnight, he felt his stomach clench. He wanted to rip Kevin's throat out. In utter dismay, he realized what he was feeling, and tried to talk himself out of it. Oh no, no way. You do NOT want your Baby Girl that way. But he was lying to himself. Distastefully, he knew exactly what the problem was.

Derek Morgan was jealous of Kevin Lynch. Derek Morgan, who had gorgeous woman falling all over him since he was in his teens, was jealous of an overweight, bespectacled computer geek.

He tried going out with other women. His Saturdays were free to do as he pleased. But no one came close to making him forget his Goddess. She was burnt onto his brain, an indelible image. He tried dating all sorts of women that reminded him of Penelope. That didn't work. Then he tried dating the polar opposites. That didn't work. Nothing was working.

That damn flirting at work wasn't helping matters, either. Her comments hit home, and he found himself answering more outrageously every time he talked to her. He pictured her as she was that night, so delectable, so ripe… and so out of reach.

So, months later, on the couch at Garcia's, he laid there, frustrated. He needed relief, but he wasn't going to ruin their friendship by being an animal. He punched his pillow and rolled over on his side. Sleep was not coming easy tonight, not on this lonely couch.

He knew that when he finally slept, though, he wouldn't be alone. She'd be with him in his dreams.