Criminal Minds: Chocolate Sauce (Morgan/Garcia)
Title: Chocolate Sauce
Author: drabbles_by_v
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Work Type: Fanfiction
Characters: Derek Morgan/Penelope Garcia, team
Rating: R for sexual situations
Spoilers: Snake Eyes spoilers
Written For: that_1_incident
Summary: What's a girl to do when she thinks she has two great guys, and discovers one of them isn't so great at all?
Author's notes: Finally getting myself settled and organized and catching up with everything, including actually really posting my fills. Sorry this is being posted so long after closing. :)
---
“Baby girl,” Morgan said, shaking his head with a fond smile. He reached out and put his hand on her hair, ruffling a little bit. “What happened between us was popcorn. And a movie on TV.”
Garcia’s eyes widened.
“Which you fell asleep in the middle of, by the way,” Morgan said. His smile faded.
“So you slept on the-”
“-couch,” Morgan finished for her.
And Garcia’s breathless, relieved prayer was the only thing that kept Morgan where he was, even after Kevin poked his head in and even after Garcia smiled at him again.
“What does a girl do when she has two great guys?” she asked, putting her hand on Morgan’s cheek and pinching a little.
“She doesn’t pour that extra drink,” Morgan told her, his grin firmly back in place. “Go on, enjoy your date.”
Smiling brightly, Garcia gathered herself and her purse and started to leave. She paused at the door and looked back. “Too bad,” she said, her voice back to its normal flirting lilt, letting her eyes glance up and down Morgan’s body. “For a minute there I thought I’d died and woken up in hot chocolate sauce heaven.”
“You,” Morgan said, “Could not handle the hotness of this chocolate sauce.”
“Oh honey,” Garcia said, a wicked grin on her face. “You know I could handle that chocolate sauce. That chocolate sauce would be my bitch.”
Morgan huffed a laugh, shaking his head again. “Get lost before you spoil your appetite, woman.”
“I always save room for dessert,” Garcia said in playful, conspiratorial whisper, and then she was gone.
Morgan’s grin faded and he could only stare as the door closed. “What…” he said out loud to the room, more confused than he had been all week.
---
After hitting Hotch up for company and being turned down for paperwork, Morgan prowled around the office, looking for anyone else to go out with. Prentiss was on her way out, Reid very unhelpfully offered to let Morgan go see some postmodernist Valentine’s Day play with him, and Rossi was driving JJ home for her much-needed week off with her family. Morgan even tried to find Anderson but he had a date for the night.
Which left him alone in the middle of the BAU, staring at his phone. Two dozen beautiful women at his fingertips who would drop anything and everything and come running to whatever bar he named and follow him home-maybe even two at a time if he called the right ones-and there was only one number he wanted to call.
And it was the one number he couldn’t call.
Morgan dry-washed his face. “Fuck,” he hissed out loud to the empty room. Damn that woman! He had finally, finally been comfortably settled with her and their friendship-the impulses that he’d once had to push her into a wall and have his way that had grown so intense after New York seemingly a thing of the past-and she had to get drunk and call him over in the middle of the night.
Morgan closed his eyes. It was for the best, he told himself, that she didn’t remember everything. She didn’t remember that he’d come over from a bar, already well on his way past tipsy, and the movie they had watched? Morgan couldn’t even remember what it was.
He remembered Garcia cuddling up next to him and laying her head on his shoulders, and he remembered turning and pushing her down into a kiss, his self-control gone with his sobriety.
And she had giggled and called him Kevin, and swatted his head, telling him to behave, he knew she didn’t like having sex while the TV was turned on.
Morgan swallowed and clenched his fists so hard they shook.
He needed air. He really, really needed some air.
And a punching bag that looked like Kevin Lynch.
---
Instead of air and a punching bag that looked like Kevin Lynch, Morgan found himself in a bar right in the middle of the dance floor, his arms held up over his head while two different women danced on either side of him, moving to the pounding beat up and down his body. Hot, intense, sexy, and exactly what any man should want. Morgan lowered his hands and put them on the hips of the woman in front of him. She felt like a stick. Not good enough. He scanned the crowd, easily picked out a curvy blonde, and with an apologetic murmur in the ears of the girls he currently had at his beck and call, made his way over to her.
“What’s a gorgeous lady like you doing out here?” Morgan purred into her ear-or tried to, since it actually had to come out as a shout to rise above the level of the music.
She turned to him, eyes widening as soon as she saw the man speaking to her. Obviously she was thinking that he must have made a mistake, because she glanced around. Behind her, her friends laughed and pushed at her, shoving her right into Morgan’s arms. She stared up at him, stammering something Morgan couldn’t hear.
“Dance with me, beautiful,” Morgan coaxed, and drew her away from the group into the middle of the floor. This time, when his hands ran down her sides, it felt perfect. He could close his eyes, imagine Garcia’s voice in his ears, Garcia’s body pressed back against his own, and lose himself to the music.
She was easy to coax home, like they all were, to the property he kept furnished and ready just for this purpose. She was breathless, and soft, and willing and should have been everything Morgan wanted.
Only she didn’t call him her chocolate Adonis, or man mocha, or hunkalicious. She didn’t have a fluffy pink hair band, or a bow, or pigtails.
In short, Morgan was forced to admit to himself as he poured himself a scotch on the rocks and called a cab for her, she was not Garcia.
Just like all the others.
He laid in bed for what felt like hours, staring at his phone, thumb hovering over the call button for Garcia’s number. Finally, he exited away from that screen and went over to his text files from her and scrolled back through them, smiling at most of them. He opened one with a picture file, unable to remember what it was, and saw Garcia and Kevin smooshed together, grinning up at the camera. Garcia had sent it to him on their anniversary with, “Look at this boy!” attached.
Morgan turned the phone off and rolled over, deciding bitterly that it was time to go to sleep.
---
“Hey Garcia,” Morgan said into his phone, watching as the most recent unsub was hauled away. “We got a lucky break, found the guy. Looks like we won’t need that list after all.”
“I just did all that work for nothing?” Garcia pouted. “Do you have any idea how many layers of cross referencing it took?”
“Um…”
“Look, it took a ton. What’s his name, anyway?”
Morgan told her, and it was greeted with a triumphant cheer.
“I have that one on here!”
“Because you’re the best, sweetness,” Morgan said, smiling fondly. “That’s why I love you.”
Even to Morgan’s ears, his tone was far too gentle, not at all their usual casual teasing. There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Oh,” Garcia finally said, sounding a little uncertain. “Um. Well, what’s not to love, chocolate sauce?” she finally asked, but it didn’t sound quite right. “Gotta go!”
“Garcia-” Morgan said, but she had already hung up. He scowled at his phone and pocketed it, and nodded to Hotch in acknowledgement of their departure time.
---
As soon as he was in his car and driving home, Morgan flipped his phone open and dialed Garcia. He got an answering machine. “Useless,” he muttered, and threw the phone into the passenger seat. It landed on its front and Morgan turned the music up to the loudest volume he could stand, and never noticed when it rang a half dozen times during his drive home.
---
Morgan went inside, threw his bag and jacket on the floor in the entryway, and headed for the kitchen and the stiffest drink he could find. He was halfway there when he passed by the living room and out of the corner of his eye he saw movement coming for him. He spun, gun immediately in his hands, pointing at the intruder.
He heard a squeak and saw a flurry of blond and pink and there was a startled, “M-Morgan!”
Morgan immediately held his hands up, heart racing when he realized who he had just pointed a gun at. “What are you doing in here?” he demanded, anger almost immediately washing away the fear.
Garcia crept forward timidly. “You… gave me a key,” she said. “Remember?”
Morgan wanted to hit his forehead. He had. “Well turn some lights on next time!” he snapped. “You scared the shit outta me. Why are you here anyway?”
“I’m sorry,” Garcia offered, then shrugged one shoulder, glancing around. “I, um, you weren’t answering your phone, and I was worried, and I wanted to make sure you got home safely…”
Morgan sighed, and the anger drained out of him. He holstered his gun and held his arm out, inviting her over. “Come here, you,” he said, and squeezed her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “Just don’t scare me like that.”
“I won’t,” she promised, melting against him. Morgan quickly drew away.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
“…Sure,” Garcia said.
Morgan poured whiskey on the rocks for himself and made a double martini for Garcia (“wet and very dirty,” she had said with a giggle, making Morgan have to work very hard to keep his mind focused on what he was doing).
“So why were you calling?” Morgan asked once they were sitting down. She had settled her feet in his lap, and Morgan couldn’t figure out a polite way to move.
“Hmm?” she asked, sipping at her drink.
Morgan kept his sigh in check. “You said I wasn’t answering my phone, so why were you calling me?”
“Oh, simple,” she said, and bounced her foot. “You called and I missed it.”
“You don’t call back a dozen times for that,” Morgan said. “You call once and leave a voicemail.”
“Oh, um. Well, just, worried, you know.”
“Woman,” Morgan said, and gave her his best look.
Garcia slumped under the look, predictably. “All right,” she muttered. “It’s ‘cause… when you said you loved me on the phone, it just sounded really…”
“Really what?” Morgan pressed.
“Sincere?” Garcia said.
“Doll face,” Morgan said, smiling, and reached over to touch her cheek. “You know I love you.”
“Yeah I know, but…” Garcia was glancing all around, looking everywhere but at Morgan. “I also wanted to know…why did you lie to me?”
Morgan choked on his sip a little. “Lie to you?”
Garcia huffed, then pulled her feet back and sat up. “And… Kevin and I broke up.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “What? When?”
“That night after we got into the fight, and we went on that date.” Garcia laughed a little, but her eyes were also bright. “Guess it was a bigger fight than I’d thought, ‘cause it came back up, and, well…”
“I’ll kick his ass, just say the word,” Morgan said. He scooched closer and put his arm around her shoulders. “And if you want movies and ice cream, that’s okay too.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what the fight was about?” Garcia asked, and her hand was warm against his chest.
“I mean, I figured it was…you know, work or something. That’s what kills it for most of us.”
“It was you,” Garcia said quietly.
Morgan head snapped up.
“I…” Garcia glanced around again, looking uncomfortable. She raised the back of her hand up to her eyes, rubbing each one for a moment. “We had dinner, and I had a drink, and while we were talking I remembered that kiss…”
Morgan groaned. “Look, I am really sorry, I was drunk-”
“Don’t interrupt me,” Garcia said, teasing, but sounding halfhearted. “Yeah, I remembered that, and I wanted to be a good girlfriend and so I told him and…” She sniffled.
“Oh, baby girl,” Morgan said. “God, I am so sorry, I never meant to…”
“But it’s good!” Garcia said, brightening quickly. “I’ve been working on getting over him and I’ve been thinking, about what I said, about what a girl does when she has two great guys… because you are a great guy, Morgan, you’re a really great guy.”
Morgan felt too warm being this close to her.
“And I was calling so much,” Garcia said, “Because…” She trailed her finger down his chest. “I was just thinking about that kiss and what you said, and well, I don’t have Kevin anymore, and so…”
Morgan’s brain had to click for a few seconds as he processed that. “Are you… are you booty calling me, woman?” he asked, letting a laugh slip into his words.
Garcia snorted to hide her own laugh. “Please,” she said, and tossed her hair. She took the final sip of her martini and picked out the olive. “I am far too classy for booty calls.” She slipped the olive between her lips, following with her finger, sucking on it for a moment, looking right into Morgan’s eyes.
“So…” Morgan said, and couldn’t keep himself from leaning forward, his eyes going right down to her cherry-red lips. “You, um…”
Garcia leaned back against the arm of the couch, trailing her hand up along the back of the couch as she did, her hot pink and black fingernails a stark contrast to the white leather. “I’m just here to let you know, my hot, hunky chocolate Adonis, that I’m single and as free as a bird, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe you might be interested.”
Morgan licked his lips. “This is…kind of fast, don’t you think? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Martini did wonders,” Garcia said, and she did look completely relaxed. “And come on, hot stuff, hasn’t this been coming for years?”
“Years?”
“Well, considering we’ve been having verbal foreplay since, like, ever…”
“Oh is that what all that was,” Morgan said, and shifted, crawling closer so he could look down at her.
Garcia looked positively wanton. “And we’ve already had a first kiss, so that awkward business can be completely in the past.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Morgan said, putting a finger on her lips. “You do not get to call that drunken mess a first kiss. My standards are much higher.”
“They are?” Garcia asked, sounding a little bit breathless. Her hips twitched.
Morgan felt the movement and dipped his own hips. “Oh yes. Much higher.” He leaned in and just brushed their lips together. Garcia whimpered and tried to push closer, but Morgan lifted his head away with a teasing grin. With a pout, she let her head fall back and Morgan repeated the action before letting himself sink fully into her lips, deepening the kiss.
The first thought Morgan had was, oh god, her lips really are flavored! He chuckled into the kiss and earned himself a slap on the side of his head. “Hey!” he protested.
“You kiss me and laugh?” Garcia demanded playfully at him.
“You taste like some kind of sparkly fruit,” Morgan defended.
“And we are… surprised?”
Morgan grinned. “No, I really suppose not.”
Garcia grinned back and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him back in.
Morgan lowered his body flush along hers as they continued to kiss, exploring with lips and tongues and small nips. Morgan discovered quickly that Garcia liked to have her lower lip bitten, not too hard, and decided that was a very good sign for things she would probably let him do.
Later, though. There were so many other things he wanted to do first that were much higher on the romantic scale because he just knew that the woman currently squirming below him was a complete sucker for everything truly sappy and romantic, even if she would never admit it.
“Mmm, baby girl,” Morgan purred, moving down to her neck. “Sure I’m not dreaming?”
“Only in that I’m a dream catch,” she said breathlessly, holding onto Morgan’s shoulders as he sucked at the skin.
“I think you’re talking about me,” Morgan teased. Garcia swatted him when he stopped nipping her collar. “What was that you called me? ‘Hot chocolate sauce heaven?’”
Garcia giggled, and then yelped a little as Morgan began kissing lower, pulling her shirt down. “You-ah-you remember that?” she managed.
“’Course,” Morgan murmured. He paused and looked up, face suddenly serious. “I remember all of it, you know. Every last nickname.”
Garcia started to protest. Morgan pressed a finger to her lips.
“They’re what get me through the day.” He smiled and reached up to stroke her cheek. “Your nicknames and your voice.”
Garcia grinned shyly. “‘God given solace,’” she said.
“God given solace,” Morgan repeated, and moved back up to kiss her again. “You never stopped being just that.”
---
“Why hello there, oh hot, handsome, hard and hung hunk!”
Morgan grimaced a little, since he knew that Prentiss was standing close enough to probably be able to hear Garcia’s voice through the phone. And-yep, there went the smirk. “What would you do if I said you were on speakerphone?” he demanded.
“You know better than to call me on speakerphone anymore,” Garcia said with a laugh. “Whatcha need, loverboy?”
Morgan couldn’t help himself. “Oh I think you know what I need…”
Prentiss reached over and took the phone when it became clear that Morgan had been completely distracted from the original intent of his call.
“Hi Garcia,” she said. “We need you to send us the names of everyone who has been fired from the local Protec plant in the last year who has a criminal record.” She handed the phone back to Morgan.
“Ah, right,” Morgan said, grinning sheepishly under Prentiss’s look. “That.”
“If I’m going to have to stop sweet talking you at work…” Garcia said, a warning in her voice. “You are going to hear about it later.”
“No, I’m good,” Morgan said.
“Anything else you guys need?” Garcia asked.
“Not right now.”
“Good,” Garcia said, practically purring. “Because I’m bored and I have some sweet talk to make your ears burn…”
Author: drabbles_by_v
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Work Type: Fanfiction
Characters: Derek Morgan/Penelope Garcia, team
Rating: R for sexual situations
Spoilers: Snake Eyes spoilers
Written For: that_1_incident
Summary: What's a girl to do when she thinks she has two great guys, and discovers one of them isn't so great at all?
Author's notes: Finally getting myself settled and organized and catching up with everything, including actually really posting my fills. Sorry this is being posted so long after closing. :)
---
“Baby girl,” Morgan said, shaking his head with a fond smile. He reached out and put his hand on her hair, ruffling a little bit. “What happened between us was popcorn. And a movie on TV.”
Garcia’s eyes widened.
“Which you fell asleep in the middle of, by the way,” Morgan said. His smile faded.
“So you slept on the-”
“-couch,” Morgan finished for her.
And Garcia’s breathless, relieved prayer was the only thing that kept Morgan where he was, even after Kevin poked his head in and even after Garcia smiled at him again.
“What does a girl do when she has two great guys?” she asked, putting her hand on Morgan’s cheek and pinching a little.
“She doesn’t pour that extra drink,” Morgan told her, his grin firmly back in place. “Go on, enjoy your date.”
Smiling brightly, Garcia gathered herself and her purse and started to leave. She paused at the door and looked back. “Too bad,” she said, her voice back to its normal flirting lilt, letting her eyes glance up and down Morgan’s body. “For a minute there I thought I’d died and woken up in hot chocolate sauce heaven.”
“You,” Morgan said, “Could not handle the hotness of this chocolate sauce.”
“Oh honey,” Garcia said, a wicked grin on her face. “You know I could handle that chocolate sauce. That chocolate sauce would be my bitch.”
Morgan huffed a laugh, shaking his head again. “Get lost before you spoil your appetite, woman.”
“I always save room for dessert,” Garcia said in playful, conspiratorial whisper, and then she was gone.
Morgan’s grin faded and he could only stare as the door closed. “What…” he said out loud to the room, more confused than he had been all week.
---
After hitting Hotch up for company and being turned down for paperwork, Morgan prowled around the office, looking for anyone else to go out with. Prentiss was on her way out, Reid very unhelpfully offered to let Morgan go see some postmodernist Valentine’s Day play with him, and Rossi was driving JJ home for her much-needed week off with her family. Morgan even tried to find Anderson but he had a date for the night.
Which left him alone in the middle of the BAU, staring at his phone. Two dozen beautiful women at his fingertips who would drop anything and everything and come running to whatever bar he named and follow him home-maybe even two at a time if he called the right ones-and there was only one number he wanted to call.
And it was the one number he couldn’t call.
Morgan dry-washed his face. “Fuck,” he hissed out loud to the empty room. Damn that woman! He had finally, finally been comfortably settled with her and their friendship-the impulses that he’d once had to push her into a wall and have his way that had grown so intense after New York seemingly a thing of the past-and she had to get drunk and call him over in the middle of the night.
Morgan closed his eyes. It was for the best, he told himself, that she didn’t remember everything. She didn’t remember that he’d come over from a bar, already well on his way past tipsy, and the movie they had watched? Morgan couldn’t even remember what it was.
He remembered Garcia cuddling up next to him and laying her head on his shoulders, and he remembered turning and pushing her down into a kiss, his self-control gone with his sobriety.
And she had giggled and called him Kevin, and swatted his head, telling him to behave, he knew she didn’t like having sex while the TV was turned on.
Morgan swallowed and clenched his fists so hard they shook.
He needed air. He really, really needed some air.
And a punching bag that looked like Kevin Lynch.
---
Instead of air and a punching bag that looked like Kevin Lynch, Morgan found himself in a bar right in the middle of the dance floor, his arms held up over his head while two different women danced on either side of him, moving to the pounding beat up and down his body. Hot, intense, sexy, and exactly what any man should want. Morgan lowered his hands and put them on the hips of the woman in front of him. She felt like a stick. Not good enough. He scanned the crowd, easily picked out a curvy blonde, and with an apologetic murmur in the ears of the girls he currently had at his beck and call, made his way over to her.
“What’s a gorgeous lady like you doing out here?” Morgan purred into her ear-or tried to, since it actually had to come out as a shout to rise above the level of the music.
She turned to him, eyes widening as soon as she saw the man speaking to her. Obviously she was thinking that he must have made a mistake, because she glanced around. Behind her, her friends laughed and pushed at her, shoving her right into Morgan’s arms. She stared up at him, stammering something Morgan couldn’t hear.
“Dance with me, beautiful,” Morgan coaxed, and drew her away from the group into the middle of the floor. This time, when his hands ran down her sides, it felt perfect. He could close his eyes, imagine Garcia’s voice in his ears, Garcia’s body pressed back against his own, and lose himself to the music.
She was easy to coax home, like they all were, to the property he kept furnished and ready just for this purpose. She was breathless, and soft, and willing and should have been everything Morgan wanted.
Only she didn’t call him her chocolate Adonis, or man mocha, or hunkalicious. She didn’t have a fluffy pink hair band, or a bow, or pigtails.
In short, Morgan was forced to admit to himself as he poured himself a scotch on the rocks and called a cab for her, she was not Garcia.
Just like all the others.
He laid in bed for what felt like hours, staring at his phone, thumb hovering over the call button for Garcia’s number. Finally, he exited away from that screen and went over to his text files from her and scrolled back through them, smiling at most of them. He opened one with a picture file, unable to remember what it was, and saw Garcia and Kevin smooshed together, grinning up at the camera. Garcia had sent it to him on their anniversary with, “Look at this boy!” attached.
Morgan turned the phone off and rolled over, deciding bitterly that it was time to go to sleep.
---
“Hey Garcia,” Morgan said into his phone, watching as the most recent unsub was hauled away. “We got a lucky break, found the guy. Looks like we won’t need that list after all.”
“I just did all that work for nothing?” Garcia pouted. “Do you have any idea how many layers of cross referencing it took?”
“Um…”
“Look, it took a ton. What’s his name, anyway?”
Morgan told her, and it was greeted with a triumphant cheer.
“I have that one on here!”
“Because you’re the best, sweetness,” Morgan said, smiling fondly. “That’s why I love you.”
Even to Morgan’s ears, his tone was far too gentle, not at all their usual casual teasing. There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Oh,” Garcia finally said, sounding a little uncertain. “Um. Well, what’s not to love, chocolate sauce?” she finally asked, but it didn’t sound quite right. “Gotta go!”
“Garcia-” Morgan said, but she had already hung up. He scowled at his phone and pocketed it, and nodded to Hotch in acknowledgement of their departure time.
---
As soon as he was in his car and driving home, Morgan flipped his phone open and dialed Garcia. He got an answering machine. “Useless,” he muttered, and threw the phone into the passenger seat. It landed on its front and Morgan turned the music up to the loudest volume he could stand, and never noticed when it rang a half dozen times during his drive home.
---
Morgan went inside, threw his bag and jacket on the floor in the entryway, and headed for the kitchen and the stiffest drink he could find. He was halfway there when he passed by the living room and out of the corner of his eye he saw movement coming for him. He spun, gun immediately in his hands, pointing at the intruder.
He heard a squeak and saw a flurry of blond and pink and there was a startled, “M-Morgan!”
Morgan immediately held his hands up, heart racing when he realized who he had just pointed a gun at. “What are you doing in here?” he demanded, anger almost immediately washing away the fear.
Garcia crept forward timidly. “You… gave me a key,” she said. “Remember?”
Morgan wanted to hit his forehead. He had. “Well turn some lights on next time!” he snapped. “You scared the shit outta me. Why are you here anyway?”
“I’m sorry,” Garcia offered, then shrugged one shoulder, glancing around. “I, um, you weren’t answering your phone, and I was worried, and I wanted to make sure you got home safely…”
Morgan sighed, and the anger drained out of him. He holstered his gun and held his arm out, inviting her over. “Come here, you,” he said, and squeezed her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “Just don’t scare me like that.”
“I won’t,” she promised, melting against him. Morgan quickly drew away.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
“…Sure,” Garcia said.
Morgan poured whiskey on the rocks for himself and made a double martini for Garcia (“wet and very dirty,” she had said with a giggle, making Morgan have to work very hard to keep his mind focused on what he was doing).
“So why were you calling?” Morgan asked once they were sitting down. She had settled her feet in his lap, and Morgan couldn’t figure out a polite way to move.
“Hmm?” she asked, sipping at her drink.
Morgan kept his sigh in check. “You said I wasn’t answering my phone, so why were you calling me?”
“Oh, simple,” she said, and bounced her foot. “You called and I missed it.”
“You don’t call back a dozen times for that,” Morgan said. “You call once and leave a voicemail.”
“Oh, um. Well, just, worried, you know.”
“Woman,” Morgan said, and gave her his best look.
Garcia slumped under the look, predictably. “All right,” she muttered. “It’s ‘cause… when you said you loved me on the phone, it just sounded really…”
“Really what?” Morgan pressed.
“Sincere?” Garcia said.
“Doll face,” Morgan said, smiling, and reached over to touch her cheek. “You know I love you.”
“Yeah I know, but…” Garcia was glancing all around, looking everywhere but at Morgan. “I also wanted to know…why did you lie to me?”
Morgan choked on his sip a little. “Lie to you?”
Garcia huffed, then pulled her feet back and sat up. “And… Kevin and I broke up.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “What? When?”
“That night after we got into the fight, and we went on that date.” Garcia laughed a little, but her eyes were also bright. “Guess it was a bigger fight than I’d thought, ‘cause it came back up, and, well…”
“I’ll kick his ass, just say the word,” Morgan said. He scooched closer and put his arm around her shoulders. “And if you want movies and ice cream, that’s okay too.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what the fight was about?” Garcia asked, and her hand was warm against his chest.
“I mean, I figured it was…you know, work or something. That’s what kills it for most of us.”
“It was you,” Garcia said quietly.
Morgan head snapped up.
“I…” Garcia glanced around again, looking uncomfortable. She raised the back of her hand up to her eyes, rubbing each one for a moment. “We had dinner, and I had a drink, and while we were talking I remembered that kiss…”
Morgan groaned. “Look, I am really sorry, I was drunk-”
“Don’t interrupt me,” Garcia said, teasing, but sounding halfhearted. “Yeah, I remembered that, and I wanted to be a good girlfriend and so I told him and…” She sniffled.
“Oh, baby girl,” Morgan said. “God, I am so sorry, I never meant to…”
“But it’s good!” Garcia said, brightening quickly. “I’ve been working on getting over him and I’ve been thinking, about what I said, about what a girl does when she has two great guys… because you are a great guy, Morgan, you’re a really great guy.”
Morgan felt too warm being this close to her.
“And I was calling so much,” Garcia said, “Because…” She trailed her finger down his chest. “I was just thinking about that kiss and what you said, and well, I don’t have Kevin anymore, and so…”
Morgan’s brain had to click for a few seconds as he processed that. “Are you… are you booty calling me, woman?” he asked, letting a laugh slip into his words.
Garcia snorted to hide her own laugh. “Please,” she said, and tossed her hair. She took the final sip of her martini and picked out the olive. “I am far too classy for booty calls.” She slipped the olive between her lips, following with her finger, sucking on it for a moment, looking right into Morgan’s eyes.
“So…” Morgan said, and couldn’t keep himself from leaning forward, his eyes going right down to her cherry-red lips. “You, um…”
Garcia leaned back against the arm of the couch, trailing her hand up along the back of the couch as she did, her hot pink and black fingernails a stark contrast to the white leather. “I’m just here to let you know, my hot, hunky chocolate Adonis, that I’m single and as free as a bird, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe you might be interested.”
Morgan licked his lips. “This is…kind of fast, don’t you think? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Martini did wonders,” Garcia said, and she did look completely relaxed. “And come on, hot stuff, hasn’t this been coming for years?”
“Years?”
“Well, considering we’ve been having verbal foreplay since, like, ever…”
“Oh is that what all that was,” Morgan said, and shifted, crawling closer so he could look down at her.
Garcia looked positively wanton. “And we’ve already had a first kiss, so that awkward business can be completely in the past.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Morgan said, putting a finger on her lips. “You do not get to call that drunken mess a first kiss. My standards are much higher.”
“They are?” Garcia asked, sounding a little bit breathless. Her hips twitched.
Morgan felt the movement and dipped his own hips. “Oh yes. Much higher.” He leaned in and just brushed their lips together. Garcia whimpered and tried to push closer, but Morgan lifted his head away with a teasing grin. With a pout, she let her head fall back and Morgan repeated the action before letting himself sink fully into her lips, deepening the kiss.
The first thought Morgan had was, oh god, her lips really are flavored! He chuckled into the kiss and earned himself a slap on the side of his head. “Hey!” he protested.
“You kiss me and laugh?” Garcia demanded playfully at him.
“You taste like some kind of sparkly fruit,” Morgan defended.
“And we are… surprised?”
Morgan grinned. “No, I really suppose not.”
Garcia grinned back and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him back in.
Morgan lowered his body flush along hers as they continued to kiss, exploring with lips and tongues and small nips. Morgan discovered quickly that Garcia liked to have her lower lip bitten, not too hard, and decided that was a very good sign for things she would probably let him do.
Later, though. There were so many other things he wanted to do first that were much higher on the romantic scale because he just knew that the woman currently squirming below him was a complete sucker for everything truly sappy and romantic, even if she would never admit it.
“Mmm, baby girl,” Morgan purred, moving down to her neck. “Sure I’m not dreaming?”
“Only in that I’m a dream catch,” she said breathlessly, holding onto Morgan’s shoulders as he sucked at the skin.
“I think you’re talking about me,” Morgan teased. Garcia swatted him when he stopped nipping her collar. “What was that you called me? ‘Hot chocolate sauce heaven?’”
Garcia giggled, and then yelped a little as Morgan began kissing lower, pulling her shirt down. “You-ah-you remember that?” she managed.
“’Course,” Morgan murmured. He paused and looked up, face suddenly serious. “I remember all of it, you know. Every last nickname.”
Garcia started to protest. Morgan pressed a finger to her lips.
“They’re what get me through the day.” He smiled and reached up to stroke her cheek. “Your nicknames and your voice.”
Garcia grinned shyly. “‘God given solace,’” she said.
“God given solace,” Morgan repeated, and moved back up to kiss her again. “You never stopped being just that.”
---
“Why hello there, oh hot, handsome, hard and hung hunk!”
Morgan grimaced a little, since he knew that Prentiss was standing close enough to probably be able to hear Garcia’s voice through the phone. And-yep, there went the smirk. “What would you do if I said you were on speakerphone?” he demanded.
“You know better than to call me on speakerphone anymore,” Garcia said with a laugh. “Whatcha need, loverboy?”
Morgan couldn’t help himself. “Oh I think you know what I need…”
Prentiss reached over and took the phone when it became clear that Morgan had been completely distracted from the original intent of his call.
“Hi Garcia,” she said. “We need you to send us the names of everyone who has been fired from the local Protec plant in the last year who has a criminal record.” She handed the phone back to Morgan.
“Ah, right,” Morgan said, grinning sheepishly under Prentiss’s look. “That.”
“If I’m going to have to stop sweet talking you at work…” Garcia said, a warning in her voice. “You are going to hear about it later.”
“No, I’m good,” Morgan said.
“Anything else you guys need?” Garcia asked.
“Not right now.”
“Good,” Garcia said, practically purring. “Because I’m bored and I have some sweet talk to make your ears burn…”