Solace of You - Part 3b of 4
Title: Solace of You 3b/4
Author: Dri
Pairing: Morgan/Reid, always.
Rating: PG ( this part )
Summary: You run.
Spoilers: Profiler Profiled and a blink-and-you-miss-it one from 100.
Author’s note: Part of the universe created in my Four Tmes… fic, Solace of You takes place right after Waves of Energy, but can be read as a stand-alone. It’s also halfway done, going through beta. I’ll be posting a segment every couple of days or so. Bear with me, please. And like always, my heartfelt thanks to my betas, Ana and Kelly, who put up with my changing sentences every five minutes without a complaint. To have such a lovely pair of betas holding my hand through all this... Ladies, you know you rock my fanfiction world! And another special thanks to anariazanyr for providing the information on Morgan’s mother’s birthday.
Disclaimer:Not mine. If they were, the events in this fic ( and in so many others that I’ve read and love ) would be cannon.
This chapter is a little longer, as promised. However, I'm afraid there won't be any supdate next week. Vacation has been great, but now it's back to work. I'm so not ready for that...
Comments are loved, framed and cherished!
*****
When it hurts to be out there
Where no one will care
I've got the solace of you
Solace of You - Living Color
Solace of You - Part 3b of 4
A plate of corn bread is shoved in their faces as soon as the door to JJ’s house is opened.
“Oh, my dearest Wampanoag; I come bearing the gift of corn.”
“Actually the Pilgrims, who by the way weren’t real pilgrims because they weren’t in any religious mission, didn’t find the corn. They robbed the corn from the Wampanoag and ransacked graves looking for more. It was out of necessity, of course; they didn’t have enough food to last for too long in the winter. Still there aren’t any available records saying the stolen corn was ever restituted. The colonists never accounted for what they did at the Indian cemetery either.”
Each fact Reid lists leads Garcia to flare her nose and take a step towards them, which leads Derek to poise himself between Reid and harm and step back until they are backed against the rail of JJ’s front porch.
Garcia takes another step closer to them. Her chest puffs out the head of the turkey embroidered in the bodice of her thanksgiving apron, and points a menacing finger at Derek’s nose. Derek uses the box of pie and bottle of wine he is carrying as the last shield between them and the wrath of Penelope Garcia. He doesn’t know how long the shield will keep.
“You,” she tells Derek, “out of the geek bubble.”
Derek winces. Behind him Reid swallows hard, but stands his ground.
“Baby girl, let’s be reasonable. Reid meant no harm. There is no need to draw a geek bubble.”
Another menacingly step closer to them. “He who dares to speak ill of a day meant to be enjoyed by friends and family, and say grace for our good fortune-“
“Garcia, come on. You know as well as I do that there’s more to the story than what they teach us at school. If you cross historical facts and literature-”
“You are not to speak,” she orders, now pointing her red polished nail to Reid. “Even my pacifist vegan parents celebrated Thanksgiving for what they teach us at school. This is the one day out of 365 that I forget the real dirty behind thanksgiving tradition because I like to eat a turkey that is not made of tofu with a peaceful mind.”
“I like Thanksgiving meal, too.”
“See, baby girl, Reid likes thanksgiving meal, too. Let’s just forget-“
Garcia flicks her wrist, indicating the space behind her. “Choco-muffin, get your gift of corn and step out of the geek bubble now.”
Derek looks back over his shoulder. Reid stands proud and tall in the awake of his demise. “You may go, Morgan. I can hold my own with her.”
Derek is not a hundred percent sure he should leave them alone inside the geek bubble. “You sure? Penelope will come down with the heavy guns.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Derek steps around Penelope and manages to get a bun of corn bread without dropping the other things in his hand. Then, under the risk of having her wraith turned towards him, he takes a step back and kisses her on the cheek, the spot not covered by the lace of her pilgrim cooking hat. “Go easy on Reid, baby girl. I’ve just got him. You gotta let me keep him for a while.”
“I shall not take the gift of love away from you.” Penelope blinks a wink at him. “Now chop-chop, go.”
Derek gets inside the house and closes the door just in case. Reid’s and Penelope’s voices take turns listing all the verifiable and not-so-verifiable facts about thanksgiving cited in the geek and conspiracy books they’ve read. Derek needs a safe place, and according to the noises and spiced and sweet aromas drifting around, the kitchen is it.
JJ is busy cutting veggies at the counter while Will stirs some bubbling thing in a pan and supervises JJ’s work at the same time.
“Sure smells good in here.”
“Derek, hi,” JJ greets him with a smile. “Come on in.”
Derek leaves his gifts on the table and sweeps JJ up in a hug. “Ain’t you all pretty up with this fancy hat and cute apron?” Her Pocahontas pigtails dance around her face as he pirouettes her.
JJ laughs and smoothes down Garcia’s twin apron. “Garcia and the Internet are a danger to humankind. Thank God she’s on our side.”
“Where’s yours, man?”
“Penelope couldn’t find one with the right cleavage.”
Derek laughs and they briefly go through the handshake-pat shoulder-handshake male routine as they greet each other.
“Good, having a fun morning,” Will says with his typical calm, making the word fun sound like a game of bridge with a bunch of eighty-year-old ladies. Will points his nose towards the ingredients spread over counters and table in the kitchen. “Wanna help?”
“Baby duty, man. Sorry,” Derek says, noticing for the first time the absence of baby sounds. “Where’s the little man?”
JJ’s eyes grow large with apprehension. She looks towards the back door. Will raises an eyebrow and JJ sighs in frustration. “He’s outside with Kevin. I don’t like the silence.”
“They’ve been silent for five minutes, Jen.”
“He’s only two. The silence makes me nervous.”
Derek goes to check the window. Kevin and Henry are sitting on the ground reading a book. There’s a backpack next to them with some crayons spilling from a side pocket.
“They seem fine to me,” Derek says, letting the window curtains fall back into place.
Will goes back to his pots. JJ hesitates.
“Jen, the vegetables.”
“Okay, all right,” JJ says, moving back to the cutting board. “Where’s Spence?”
“Outside with Garcia. Geek fight.”
JJ rolls her eyes. “Oh my. What now?”
“The accuracy of the facts behind all things thanksgiving.”
“Who’s winning?” Will asks from his place at the stove.
“I don’t know. Garcia kicked me out of the geek bubble.”
JJ drops her knife on the cutting board and steps around the table. Behind them Will sighs.
“They drew the geek bubble? This is serious.”
“We need protection,” Derek agrees, nodding.
“What’s a geek bubble?”
“There’s no time for that now, Will. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know, beautiful girl.” Just then the front door opens and then closes with an almost bang. They can hear the cadence of Garcia’s wooden clogs clacking impatiently on the wood floor, followed by the squishing sole of Reid’s sneakers dragging closely behind her that is about to seal their fates. “We need a plan, JJ. We need a plan now.”
JJ is twisting her fingers, Derek is alternating looks between the back door and the kitchen doorframe, and Will has stopped what he was doing all together.
“Jen, what’s-“
“JJ,” Garcia shrieks.
“JJ,” Reid whines.
“Geek free zone,” JJ says, pushing Derek around the table.
“Geek free zone,” he agrees.
“What is a geek-“
“Stay quiet and do as we say,” JJ cuts Will off, standing on his left behind the kitchen table. Derek stands on his right and gets ready for the fight that will take place in…
“JJ, tell him the first thanksgiving was celebrated in 1621!”
“But JJ, it’s like saying that before 1621 people didn’t say thanks at all! Indigenous nations have celebrated harvest for many centuries now; it’s been part of their tradition for ages.”
“Reid, turkey! Clear conscience!”
“To deny centuries of Indigenous traditions is like killing their existence to…”
“GEEK FREE ZONE!”
To render Garcia and Reid speechless at the same time is the accomplishment of a lifetime. Derek had to hand it to Will. Derek would never refer to the man as the calmness before the boredom again. Will looks just as shocked as the rest of them.
“It worked.”
“H-How do you know about the geek free zone?” Garcia stutters. She turns her betrayal flamed eyes to Derek and JJ. “How could you...”
“It wasn’t supposed to leave the office, guys,” Reid’s turn to kill JJ and Derek with a scowl that makes him as dangerous as a kitten Derek wouldn’t mind cuddling.
Jesus, he has got it bad.
“Not my fault, pretty boy. I didn’t say anything,” Derek rushes to say and steer clear of trouble with Reid. Last time it happened, sex had been withdrawn for almost a week.
“Me neither,” JJ added, barely containing the laughter off her voice.
“Hey, I’m an investigator, too. Give me some credit.”
Reid has the decency to look abashed. Garcia, on the other hand…
“We’re not in the office. You can’t claim a geek free zone here.”
“Penelope and Spence, no geek fighting on Thanksgiving Day,” maternal JJ takes charge and scowls at her bickering friends. Stepping out of the geek free zone, she joins them on the other side of the table. “We are all here, geeks and brats, because we do
get along well. Now let’s all be friends again.”
Both glance at JJ, then at each other. Reid rehearses a shy, apologetic smile; Garcia holds out the plate of corn bread.
“Gift of corn?” she asks, to which Reid promptly thanks her mumbling, “The pilgrims and the Wampanoag probably swapped recipes for all that we know anyway.”
“Okay, folks, time to stop embarrassing ourselves with all this silliness and go back to being serious adults if you want to have dinner anytime soon today,” Will says, resuming his work at the stove.
“Will is right,” JJ says without missing a beat, catching Reid around his elbow and dragging him to the back door. “Come on, Spence. Henry can’t wait to see you.”
Reid, mouth full of corn bread, barely has the time to shove Derek the boxes with sweet treats for Penelope and JJ he’s been carrying before the back door opens and closes, shutting Henry’s squeal of UNC SPEN behind them.
Derek is still smiling, thinking about all the trials and tribulations teenage Henry will have to go through to fly under his mother’s radar in the future when he notices Garcia has been eyeing him. The tenderness edging her red lips turns that barely there smirk into a soft demonstration of affection Derek is used to getting from her when he has done something extremely good or been extra nice to some victim or one of their own. Since he hasn’t given her the chocolate they brought, Derek doesn’t remember having done anything since they’d gotten to JJ’s.
“Hey, baby girl. What’s up?”
“What are those?” she asked, tilting her chin towards the boxes in his hands.
“The big box is dessert, the smaller ones something special for the cook assistants.”
“The cook gets nothing?” Will protests from his corner in the kitchen.
“A bottle of red with his name on it.”
“Sweet.”
“They will keep out of the fridge?” The sternness coating Garcia’s voice draws his attention back to her. It wasn’t a question, but she’s waiting for his answer.
“I guess?”
“Wrong answer.” She grabs the bigger box and his free hand before leading him to the front of the house. “Will, we’re taking Derek’s treats to the garage.”
“There’s space in the fridge here… ” One raised eyebrow is enough to make Will agree with Penelope. “Okay, take your time. Dinner is supposed to be served in the evening, anyway.”
She smiles and bates an eyelash at Will. “No worries, sweetie. We’ll be right back.”
And Derek knows he is doomed. She will be finished with him before even starting, and for reasons unknown to him.
Once in the garage, Garcia arranges their parcels among bottles of soda and cans of beer to her satisfaction, then she turns her sole attention to him. Garcia has sharp senses wrapped in a caring nature, making it hard for her to mask how worried she is about things. Right now her concerns belong to him, and to say he is nervous would be an understatement.
“Baby girl, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Garcia and deep breaths are so not good.
“You didn’t really think I’d hurt Reid, did you?”
Huh?
“Of course not, baby girl. What gave you-“
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” Judging the way apprehensiveness wells up liquid and bright in her eyes, he has come up with the wrong answer again. “Penelope, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
According to her silence, Garcia doesn’t know either, just like during those first few weeks after him and Reid had told the team.
Derek and Reid had cracked some nervous jokes about the way their teammates would take the news of their being an item. At that point it had been more a formality considering that, Emily aside, who had been there with them at JJ’s, everyone but Garcia had kind of been onlookers of their unfolding situation from the very beginning. It hadn’t taken Garcia too long to catch up with the group and become aware of all the ongoing changes in Derek and Reid’s relationship and why.
In their little game, Derek and Reid had anticipated Hotch’s frown and Rossi’s know-it-all smirks, and had diverged on JJ’s and Emily’s reaction to the news: Reid and Derek knew the girls would be happy for them, but Derek had bet Emily would show more delight than JJ, and he had been right, like Reid had been right about JJ being even more motherly towards him, which, of course, proved to be true more than once. As for Garcia, they had both braced themselves for embarrassing questions and definitions of tops and bottoms, or all the major reason they had to join the next DC pride with her as their glitter-sparkling fairy godmother. Derek had relied on that, and hell if Derek would ever admit even to himself how much her silence and reluctance around them - around him - those first couple of weeks had hurt.
“You’re doing that again, Penelope,” he tells her around a resigned smile.
“Doing what?”
“The silent treatment.” Her confusion sounds so genuine he can’t get mad at her. “I thought you were done with your thinking this situation over.”
“Hey, this is not fair,” she says, walking up to him. “I told you I needed time to understand what was going on between you and Reid and to make sure you knew where you were getting yourself into. But I was happy for you then, Derek. No, scratch that,”
she says, shaking her head. “I am happy for you guys. You’ve been good for each other.”
“So why all these questions now? What has changed?”
“You have, Derek.”
“I-“
Derek wants tell her he is still the same guy and nothing has changed, but pieces of a bad dream from which his strongest memory is the aftershock of the terror caused by the absence of Reid is like a violent slap on his face that shakes Derek to the core and silences his denial.
“I know, baby girl,” Derek tiredly admits. “But isn’t it the good kind of change people talk about, the kind that makes you a better person?”
Garcia smiles and grips both of his hands, offering the kind of physical comfort he knows she knows he needs but would never ask and yet would be thankful for. “Of course it is, sweetie. But it’s also the kind of change that makes you confused and afraid.”
“Afraid? Afraid of what?”
“Let me keep him for a while?” He tries to protest, but she’s faster than him. “You’ve seen me banter with Reid time and again, Derek, geek bubble or not. Today you stepped in front of him as if all our silliness would leave our pretty genius brain dead, or like my sparkling-self would cause him any kind of body harm,” she says with more confidence than humor, which he knows come from the few minutes she had spent with them in the porch. “That, my love, told me more than you were ready for me to know, let alone your boyfriend.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m afraid, Garcia.” Not of you.
“But you are confused. Being afraid is the natural next step. I did wrong by you once, Derek. Like all the others, I thought Reid was our only cause of concern, that he would be the only one hurt if it didn’t work out between you.”
“He has never been just a fling, Garcia. I wouldn’t have started anything with him if I hadn’t been a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t end up hurt.”
“I know, I know,” she assures him, squeezing his hands without erasing the small specks of hurt that still remain. “I felt awful about that. I still do, Derek. You are made of integrity and I know he is in good hands. But this time I don’t think I’m overreacting, because I know this thing with Reid is a huge step for you, sweetheart.”
“Garcia, I’m okay.”
“I know you are.” Garcia is gentle in her touch, with her words, with her smile. “But coming to terms with all this… hugeness may be painful to the other people that are part of our lives. It’s in our nature to want to do everything in our power to easy their pain, even if it hurts us along the way.”
Derek only smiles and says nothing. He can see now she understands better than he gives her credits for how important Reid has become to him, that she has seen how much the mere thought of losing Reid would damage Derek, perhaps even beyond repair.
And she is right: this thing with Reid is so big, so wonderful and so painful; he has never named it to anyone, not even himself. Thoughts of falling in love are easier to deal with when they are just that, something abstract people conjure up to deal with their own expectations. The real thing, however, has been trickier, because once experienced, words are never enough to convey what it really means, at least not for Derek; saying the words to Reid wouldn’t be enough. From the beginning it has been about showing affection and doing stuff he knows pleases Reid because Reid has read all the books, has memorized all the definitions, has known all about the chemical reactions the body goes through during this process, known what each step represents on the fine art of loving someone in theory. Derek wants to be Reid’s practice, Reid’s own phonetic experience, the beginning and the end of each sound produced by each letter that defines what Derek feels for him.
And Derek is ready for that; he really is. But are the other people in his life? Is Reid?
Derek has been right; Garcia understands. The light in her eyes has changed, dulled to something closer to reality, to the understanding he had been hoping to get from her.
“I wish I could make things easier for you,” she says softly.
He won’t lie to her. She deserves better than that. And telling the truth would hurt too much. “I’ll be fine, Garcia. I promise.”
“Of course you will, sweetie. You are the Derek Morgan.”She cradles his head in her hands, looks at him squarely in the eyes, and in hers he sees the greatness of the power of her beliefs in him. “Just remember you’re not alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
He pulls her into a hug, kisses her forehead, and is reminded yet again of why *mamma* is not just a casual nickname he has for her. “Thanks, baby girl.”
“Hey, what is this thanking me? You are still my best guy, right?”
They smile at each other and start on their way back to the house in comfortable silence until Garcia tugs on the arm linked with hers.
“What, baby girl?”
“Hum, nothing. Just that perhaps you could do a little thing to show your appreciation for the never-ending wonder that is me.”
He knows that smile. He is afraid of that smile.
“I know I’ll regret it, but how?”
“Cameras,” she sings song and he snorts.
“Forget it.”
“But, hot stuff, yours and brainy boy own reality show. How much more awesome can it get?” After a dramatic pause, she traces a large arch in front of them as she says, “Your own B-B-B.”
“Let me guess, let me guess.” He stops and uses his thumbs and index fingers to mimic a camera and frame each word he says. “Big Brother Bureau.”
“Of course not, foxy muffin,” she says, slapping him on the arm. “I have it every day at work.”
He’s so fucked up. “So what does it stand for?”
Garcia stops on the last step of the front porch and uses her own thumbs and index fingers to frame his face.
“Big Brother Bedroom, sexy! What else?”
This time he laughs for real as he opens the door and ushers her inside.
*****
End of Part 3b. To be continued in Part 3c.
Author: Dri
Pairing: Morgan/Reid, always.
Rating: PG ( this part )
Summary: You run.
Spoilers: Profiler Profiled and a blink-and-you-miss-it one from 100.
Author’s note: Part of the universe created in my Four Tmes… fic, Solace of You takes place right after Waves of Energy, but can be read as a stand-alone. It’s also halfway done, going through beta. I’ll be posting a segment every couple of days or so. Bear with me, please. And like always, my heartfelt thanks to my betas, Ana and Kelly, who put up with my changing sentences every five minutes without a complaint. To have such a lovely pair of betas holding my hand through all this... Ladies, you know you rock my fanfiction world! And another special thanks to anariazanyr for providing the information on Morgan’s mother’s birthday.
Disclaimer:Not mine. If they were, the events in this fic ( and in so many others that I’ve read and love ) would be cannon.
This chapter is a little longer, as promised. However, I'm afraid there won't be any supdate next week. Vacation has been great, but now it's back to work. I'm so not ready for that...
Comments are loved, framed and cherished!
*****
When it hurts to be out there
Where no one will care
I've got the solace of you
Solace of You - Living Color
Solace of You - Part 3b of 4
A plate of corn bread is shoved in their faces as soon as the door to JJ’s house is opened.
“Oh, my dearest Wampanoag; I come bearing the gift of corn.”
“Actually the Pilgrims, who by the way weren’t real pilgrims because they weren’t in any religious mission, didn’t find the corn. They robbed the corn from the Wampanoag and ransacked graves looking for more. It was out of necessity, of course; they didn’t have enough food to last for too long in the winter. Still there aren’t any available records saying the stolen corn was ever restituted. The colonists never accounted for what they did at the Indian cemetery either.”
Each fact Reid lists leads Garcia to flare her nose and take a step towards them, which leads Derek to poise himself between Reid and harm and step back until they are backed against the rail of JJ’s front porch.
Garcia takes another step closer to them. Her chest puffs out the head of the turkey embroidered in the bodice of her thanksgiving apron, and points a menacing finger at Derek’s nose. Derek uses the box of pie and bottle of wine he is carrying as the last shield between them and the wrath of Penelope Garcia. He doesn’t know how long the shield will keep.
“You,” she tells Derek, “out of the geek bubble.”
Derek winces. Behind him Reid swallows hard, but stands his ground.
“Baby girl, let’s be reasonable. Reid meant no harm. There is no need to draw a geek bubble.”
Another menacingly step closer to them. “He who dares to speak ill of a day meant to be enjoyed by friends and family, and say grace for our good fortune-“
“Garcia, come on. You know as well as I do that there’s more to the story than what they teach us at school. If you cross historical facts and literature-”
“You are not to speak,” she orders, now pointing her red polished nail to Reid. “Even my pacifist vegan parents celebrated Thanksgiving for what they teach us at school. This is the one day out of 365 that I forget the real dirty behind thanksgiving tradition because I like to eat a turkey that is not made of tofu with a peaceful mind.”
“I like Thanksgiving meal, too.”
“See, baby girl, Reid likes thanksgiving meal, too. Let’s just forget-“
Garcia flicks her wrist, indicating the space behind her. “Choco-muffin, get your gift of corn and step out of the geek bubble now.”
Derek looks back over his shoulder. Reid stands proud and tall in the awake of his demise. “You may go, Morgan. I can hold my own with her.”
Derek is not a hundred percent sure he should leave them alone inside the geek bubble. “You sure? Penelope will come down with the heavy guns.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Derek steps around Penelope and manages to get a bun of corn bread without dropping the other things in his hand. Then, under the risk of having her wraith turned towards him, he takes a step back and kisses her on the cheek, the spot not covered by the lace of her pilgrim cooking hat. “Go easy on Reid, baby girl. I’ve just got him. You gotta let me keep him for a while.”
“I shall not take the gift of love away from you.” Penelope blinks a wink at him. “Now chop-chop, go.”
Derek gets inside the house and closes the door just in case. Reid’s and Penelope’s voices take turns listing all the verifiable and not-so-verifiable facts about thanksgiving cited in the geek and conspiracy books they’ve read. Derek needs a safe place, and according to the noises and spiced and sweet aromas drifting around, the kitchen is it.
JJ is busy cutting veggies at the counter while Will stirs some bubbling thing in a pan and supervises JJ’s work at the same time.
“Sure smells good in here.”
“Derek, hi,” JJ greets him with a smile. “Come on in.”
Derek leaves his gifts on the table and sweeps JJ up in a hug. “Ain’t you all pretty up with this fancy hat and cute apron?” Her Pocahontas pigtails dance around her face as he pirouettes her.
JJ laughs and smoothes down Garcia’s twin apron. “Garcia and the Internet are a danger to humankind. Thank God she’s on our side.”
“Where’s yours, man?”
“Penelope couldn’t find one with the right cleavage.”
Derek laughs and they briefly go through the handshake-pat shoulder-handshake male routine as they greet each other.
“Good, having a fun morning,” Will says with his typical calm, making the word fun sound like a game of bridge with a bunch of eighty-year-old ladies. Will points his nose towards the ingredients spread over counters and table in the kitchen. “Wanna help?”
“Baby duty, man. Sorry,” Derek says, noticing for the first time the absence of baby sounds. “Where’s the little man?”
JJ’s eyes grow large with apprehension. She looks towards the back door. Will raises an eyebrow and JJ sighs in frustration. “He’s outside with Kevin. I don’t like the silence.”
“They’ve been silent for five minutes, Jen.”
“He’s only two. The silence makes me nervous.”
Derek goes to check the window. Kevin and Henry are sitting on the ground reading a book. There’s a backpack next to them with some crayons spilling from a side pocket.
“They seem fine to me,” Derek says, letting the window curtains fall back into place.
Will goes back to his pots. JJ hesitates.
“Jen, the vegetables.”
“Okay, all right,” JJ says, moving back to the cutting board. “Where’s Spence?”
“Outside with Garcia. Geek fight.”
JJ rolls her eyes. “Oh my. What now?”
“The accuracy of the facts behind all things thanksgiving.”
“Who’s winning?” Will asks from his place at the stove.
“I don’t know. Garcia kicked me out of the geek bubble.”
JJ drops her knife on the cutting board and steps around the table. Behind them Will sighs.
“They drew the geek bubble? This is serious.”
“We need protection,” Derek agrees, nodding.
“What’s a geek bubble?”
“There’s no time for that now, Will. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know, beautiful girl.” Just then the front door opens and then closes with an almost bang. They can hear the cadence of Garcia’s wooden clogs clacking impatiently on the wood floor, followed by the squishing sole of Reid’s sneakers dragging closely behind her that is about to seal their fates. “We need a plan, JJ. We need a plan now.”
JJ is twisting her fingers, Derek is alternating looks between the back door and the kitchen doorframe, and Will has stopped what he was doing all together.
“Jen, what’s-“
“JJ,” Garcia shrieks.
“JJ,” Reid whines.
“Geek free zone,” JJ says, pushing Derek around the table.
“Geek free zone,” he agrees.
“What is a geek-“
“Stay quiet and do as we say,” JJ cuts Will off, standing on his left behind the kitchen table. Derek stands on his right and gets ready for the fight that will take place in…
“JJ, tell him the first thanksgiving was celebrated in 1621!”
“But JJ, it’s like saying that before 1621 people didn’t say thanks at all! Indigenous nations have celebrated harvest for many centuries now; it’s been part of their tradition for ages.”
“Reid, turkey! Clear conscience!”
“To deny centuries of Indigenous traditions is like killing their existence to…”
“GEEK FREE ZONE!”
To render Garcia and Reid speechless at the same time is the accomplishment of a lifetime. Derek had to hand it to Will. Derek would never refer to the man as the calmness before the boredom again. Will looks just as shocked as the rest of them.
“It worked.”
“H-How do you know about the geek free zone?” Garcia stutters. She turns her betrayal flamed eyes to Derek and JJ. “How could you...”
“It wasn’t supposed to leave the office, guys,” Reid’s turn to kill JJ and Derek with a scowl that makes him as dangerous as a kitten Derek wouldn’t mind cuddling.
Jesus, he has got it bad.
“Not my fault, pretty boy. I didn’t say anything,” Derek rushes to say and steer clear of trouble with Reid. Last time it happened, sex had been withdrawn for almost a week.
“Me neither,” JJ added, barely containing the laughter off her voice.
“Hey, I’m an investigator, too. Give me some credit.”
Reid has the decency to look abashed. Garcia, on the other hand…
“We’re not in the office. You can’t claim a geek free zone here.”
“Penelope and Spence, no geek fighting on Thanksgiving Day,” maternal JJ takes charge and scowls at her bickering friends. Stepping out of the geek free zone, she joins them on the other side of the table. “We are all here, geeks and brats, because we do
get along well. Now let’s all be friends again.”
Both glance at JJ, then at each other. Reid rehearses a shy, apologetic smile; Garcia holds out the plate of corn bread.
“Gift of corn?” she asks, to which Reid promptly thanks her mumbling, “The pilgrims and the Wampanoag probably swapped recipes for all that we know anyway.”
“Okay, folks, time to stop embarrassing ourselves with all this silliness and go back to being serious adults if you want to have dinner anytime soon today,” Will says, resuming his work at the stove.
“Will is right,” JJ says without missing a beat, catching Reid around his elbow and dragging him to the back door. “Come on, Spence. Henry can’t wait to see you.”
Reid, mouth full of corn bread, barely has the time to shove Derek the boxes with sweet treats for Penelope and JJ he’s been carrying before the back door opens and closes, shutting Henry’s squeal of UNC SPEN behind them.
Derek is still smiling, thinking about all the trials and tribulations teenage Henry will have to go through to fly under his mother’s radar in the future when he notices Garcia has been eyeing him. The tenderness edging her red lips turns that barely there smirk into a soft demonstration of affection Derek is used to getting from her when he has done something extremely good or been extra nice to some victim or one of their own. Since he hasn’t given her the chocolate they brought, Derek doesn’t remember having done anything since they’d gotten to JJ’s.
“Hey, baby girl. What’s up?”
“What are those?” she asked, tilting her chin towards the boxes in his hands.
“The big box is dessert, the smaller ones something special for the cook assistants.”
“The cook gets nothing?” Will protests from his corner in the kitchen.
“A bottle of red with his name on it.”
“Sweet.”
“They will keep out of the fridge?” The sternness coating Garcia’s voice draws his attention back to her. It wasn’t a question, but she’s waiting for his answer.
“I guess?”
“Wrong answer.” She grabs the bigger box and his free hand before leading him to the front of the house. “Will, we’re taking Derek’s treats to the garage.”
“There’s space in the fridge here… ” One raised eyebrow is enough to make Will agree with Penelope. “Okay, take your time. Dinner is supposed to be served in the evening, anyway.”
She smiles and bates an eyelash at Will. “No worries, sweetie. We’ll be right back.”
And Derek knows he is doomed. She will be finished with him before even starting, and for reasons unknown to him.
Once in the garage, Garcia arranges their parcels among bottles of soda and cans of beer to her satisfaction, then she turns her sole attention to him. Garcia has sharp senses wrapped in a caring nature, making it hard for her to mask how worried she is about things. Right now her concerns belong to him, and to say he is nervous would be an understatement.
“Baby girl, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Garcia and deep breaths are so not good.
“You didn’t really think I’d hurt Reid, did you?”
Huh?
“Of course not, baby girl. What gave you-“
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” Judging the way apprehensiveness wells up liquid and bright in her eyes, he has come up with the wrong answer again. “Penelope, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
According to her silence, Garcia doesn’t know either, just like during those first few weeks after him and Reid had told the team.
Derek and Reid had cracked some nervous jokes about the way their teammates would take the news of their being an item. At that point it had been more a formality considering that, Emily aside, who had been there with them at JJ’s, everyone but Garcia had kind of been onlookers of their unfolding situation from the very beginning. It hadn’t taken Garcia too long to catch up with the group and become aware of all the ongoing changes in Derek and Reid’s relationship and why.
In their little game, Derek and Reid had anticipated Hotch’s frown and Rossi’s know-it-all smirks, and had diverged on JJ’s and Emily’s reaction to the news: Reid and Derek knew the girls would be happy for them, but Derek had bet Emily would show more delight than JJ, and he had been right, like Reid had been right about JJ being even more motherly towards him, which, of course, proved to be true more than once. As for Garcia, they had both braced themselves for embarrassing questions and definitions of tops and bottoms, or all the major reason they had to join the next DC pride with her as their glitter-sparkling fairy godmother. Derek had relied on that, and hell if Derek would ever admit even to himself how much her silence and reluctance around them - around him - those first couple of weeks had hurt.
“You’re doing that again, Penelope,” he tells her around a resigned smile.
“Doing what?”
“The silent treatment.” Her confusion sounds so genuine he can’t get mad at her. “I thought you were done with your thinking this situation over.”
“Hey, this is not fair,” she says, walking up to him. “I told you I needed time to understand what was going on between you and Reid and to make sure you knew where you were getting yourself into. But I was happy for you then, Derek. No, scratch that,”
she says, shaking her head. “I am happy for you guys. You’ve been good for each other.”
“So why all these questions now? What has changed?”
“You have, Derek.”
“I-“
Derek wants tell her he is still the same guy and nothing has changed, but pieces of a bad dream from which his strongest memory is the aftershock of the terror caused by the absence of Reid is like a violent slap on his face that shakes Derek to the core and silences his denial.
“I know, baby girl,” Derek tiredly admits. “But isn’t it the good kind of change people talk about, the kind that makes you a better person?”
Garcia smiles and grips both of his hands, offering the kind of physical comfort he knows she knows he needs but would never ask and yet would be thankful for. “Of course it is, sweetie. But it’s also the kind of change that makes you confused and afraid.”
“Afraid? Afraid of what?”
“Let me keep him for a while?” He tries to protest, but she’s faster than him. “You’ve seen me banter with Reid time and again, Derek, geek bubble or not. Today you stepped in front of him as if all our silliness would leave our pretty genius brain dead, or like my sparkling-self would cause him any kind of body harm,” she says with more confidence than humor, which he knows come from the few minutes she had spent with them in the porch. “That, my love, told me more than you were ready for me to know, let alone your boyfriend.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m afraid, Garcia.” Not of you.
“But you are confused. Being afraid is the natural next step. I did wrong by you once, Derek. Like all the others, I thought Reid was our only cause of concern, that he would be the only one hurt if it didn’t work out between you.”
“He has never been just a fling, Garcia. I wouldn’t have started anything with him if I hadn’t been a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t end up hurt.”
“I know, I know,” she assures him, squeezing his hands without erasing the small specks of hurt that still remain. “I felt awful about that. I still do, Derek. You are made of integrity and I know he is in good hands. But this time I don’t think I’m overreacting, because I know this thing with Reid is a huge step for you, sweetheart.”
“Garcia, I’m okay.”
“I know you are.” Garcia is gentle in her touch, with her words, with her smile. “But coming to terms with all this… hugeness may be painful to the other people that are part of our lives. It’s in our nature to want to do everything in our power to easy their pain, even if it hurts us along the way.”
Derek only smiles and says nothing. He can see now she understands better than he gives her credits for how important Reid has become to him, that she has seen how much the mere thought of losing Reid would damage Derek, perhaps even beyond repair.
And she is right: this thing with Reid is so big, so wonderful and so painful; he has never named it to anyone, not even himself. Thoughts of falling in love are easier to deal with when they are just that, something abstract people conjure up to deal with their own expectations. The real thing, however, has been trickier, because once experienced, words are never enough to convey what it really means, at least not for Derek; saying the words to Reid wouldn’t be enough. From the beginning it has been about showing affection and doing stuff he knows pleases Reid because Reid has read all the books, has memorized all the definitions, has known all about the chemical reactions the body goes through during this process, known what each step represents on the fine art of loving someone in theory. Derek wants to be Reid’s practice, Reid’s own phonetic experience, the beginning and the end of each sound produced by each letter that defines what Derek feels for him.
And Derek is ready for that; he really is. But are the other people in his life? Is Reid?
Derek has been right; Garcia understands. The light in her eyes has changed, dulled to something closer to reality, to the understanding he had been hoping to get from her.
“I wish I could make things easier for you,” she says softly.
He won’t lie to her. She deserves better than that. And telling the truth would hurt too much. “I’ll be fine, Garcia. I promise.”
“Of course you will, sweetie. You are the Derek Morgan.”She cradles his head in her hands, looks at him squarely in the eyes, and in hers he sees the greatness of the power of her beliefs in him. “Just remember you’re not alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
He pulls her into a hug, kisses her forehead, and is reminded yet again of why *mamma* is not just a casual nickname he has for her. “Thanks, baby girl.”
“Hey, what is this thanking me? You are still my best guy, right?”
They smile at each other and start on their way back to the house in comfortable silence until Garcia tugs on the arm linked with hers.
“What, baby girl?”
“Hum, nothing. Just that perhaps you could do a little thing to show your appreciation for the never-ending wonder that is me.”
He knows that smile. He is afraid of that smile.
“I know I’ll regret it, but how?”
“Cameras,” she sings song and he snorts.
“Forget it.”
“But, hot stuff, yours and brainy boy own reality show. How much more awesome can it get?” After a dramatic pause, she traces a large arch in front of them as she says, “Your own B-B-B.”
“Let me guess, let me guess.” He stops and uses his thumbs and index fingers to mimic a camera and frame each word he says. “Big Brother Bureau.”
“Of course not, foxy muffin,” she says, slapping him on the arm. “I have it every day at work.”
He’s so fucked up. “So what does it stand for?”
Garcia stops on the last step of the front porch and uses her own thumbs and index fingers to frame his face.
“Big Brother Bedroom, sexy! What else?”
This time he laughs for real as he opens the door and ushers her inside.
*****
End of Part 3b. To be continued in Part 3c.