Nobody's mine. If Morgan belonged to me, he would work without a shirt on.

Wake-Up Call

"Odd" was the only word that came from Garcia's lips when she entered her office and eyed the colourful bouquet of flowers on her cluttered desk. She had no more time for further musings, however, because the phone happened to choose that exact moment to ring. Garcia clicked on her headphones and murmured an absent "hmm?" into the receiver.

"Someone didn't get her three cups of coffee this morning," a familiar baritone teased, sending waves of warmth cresting through her. Its owner chuckled at her silence. "Garcia? You still with me?"

Garcia recovered quickly enough to shoot back, "always have been, gorgeous." She yawned, and Morgan, overhearing it, laughed again. "What do you need?"

"Need?" A tinge of exaggerated hurt crept into his tone. "Since when do I have to need something to drop you a line? Who do you think I am?"

"Don't make me answer that."

Morgan grinned.

Garcia's gaze drifted to the flowers again. "If I must…" she sighed theatrically. "Funny, Casanova. You don't like me that much."

"You never know."

A grin appeared on her face. "Really," she pursed her lips, imitating a Southern drawl. Plunking down in a chair, she switched on computers. Her free hand came up to twirl her hair around her index finger. "You're too kind. But it may not stay that way if this woman doesn't get her three cups of said highly caffeinated beverage within five minutes. So make it quick and tell the coffee-craving genius what you want."

"Have a good day, genius." And a click sounded in her ear.


I know it's short. It just seemed like a perfect place to end it.