Author's Note: This is a two shot written in response to Fortune Cookie Prompt Friday: Forewarned is forearmed.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

Three Days Ago…

Derek's eyes were huge; Penelope was thinking maybe having this conversation with him hadn't been her best idea yet.

"You…are you kidding?" he asked in disbelief.

OK, so she was loving the reaction. "I am not kidding," she replied with a grin.

"You just tell him…what exactly do you tell him?"

Penelope laughed, and Derek was suddenly aware of how engaging the sound was. "I tell him that if he wants to get between these thighs, he's got to make what's between them quiver first," she said. Penelope was pretty damn proud of herself. If she'd been having this talk with anyone but Derek Morgan, her best friend, her cheeks would be flaming right now. But this was Derek. And she was certain that no matter what she'd done in the bedroom, he'd have stories that would put hers to shame. He was known for nothing if not his skill with the opposite sex.

"But…how…" he asked, fumbling for words.

"It doesn't matter. Hands, lips, tongue…" Penelope shrugged. "Whatever."

"I can't…" He let out a low whistle. "Damn, Garcia. That is fuckin' hot."

Penelope bit her lower lip. "Well…I like it when satisfaction is guaranteed," she teased with a husky whisper. "And once you've used the merchandise, there are no returns."

"Sweet Lord. I think I just got hard," he told her.

Penelope burst into laughter. "Nice, Derek," she said as she rolled her eyes. "But the only stiff one I'm looking for tonight…is Jack Daniels."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "A little Jack, huh?" he asked.

Penelope grinned back. "One thing I know for certain…he's sure to warm my insides."

"Is that before or after you let him slide down your throat?" Derek asked with a wicked grin.

Penelope laughed. "You'll never know."

XXXXX

Today…

The thing was…he wanted to know. He hadn't been lying; what she'd said had made him instantly hard.

Derek Morgan had always made it his business to ensure that his partner saw stars, but that had been his thing. He'd never been told he was going to do it; he'd simply done it because it made him happy.

The thought of a woman telling him he was going to get her off? Hot. But Penelope? Derek sighed. This was no spur of the moment thing; it had been a long time coming. (He laughed at own his play on words.) He wasn't sure if it was her short skirts or those quirky glasses…her vivacious personality definitely had a part in it…but she'd gone from being his best friend to the lust of his life in just a few short months. He could barely be around her when she wasn't talking about sex, but when she was…wowza! He didn't initiate those conversations anymore…he preferred being able to walk out of her office, thank you very much…but he didn't stop her when she started them up, either. He wanted to, but he could never seem to get the words out. And Derek realized that if he didn't stop this line of thinking, he wouldn't be walking off the plane…

XXXXX

Penelope wasn't so sure she should have suggested they go out for drinks. She hadn't eaten yet today and she was beginning to feel a little light headed. She'd ordered a beer instead of a shot of Jack—her preference—but it hadn't mattered. Her head was spinning. Otherwise she never would have accepted Derek's offer to dance, not to a slow song anyway.

His arms suddenly tightened around her waist, and his head dipped down towards her neck. She giggled nervously. "What are you doing?" she asked, pulling away from him. Had he not had such a tight hold on her, she would have toppled over backwards.

Derek inhaled slowly. "Smelling you," he said gruffly.

"Sme…smelling me?" she asked in surprise.

"You smell sexy," he informed her.

"I…" Penelope's jaw snapped shut as she straightened, her feet moving to the music once again. Was it the beer, or had Derek's eyes suddenly filled with desire? It had to have been the beer. Sure, he was attractive (to put it mildly,) but Penelope had accepted a long time ago that she wasn't Derek Morgan's type. He liked his women petite, obviously sexy and in Penelope's opinion, a bit flighty. She was none of the above. It was that that helped her reach her conclusion…it was definitely the beer.

Yes, she'd convinced herself of that fact…until Derek lowered his head again and she felt the warmth of his lips on her neck. It should have been a simple kiss; it shouldn't have been so exciting. For God's sake, it wasn't even on the lips! But that didn't seem to matter. He was placing a string of soft kisses along her throat, and there was an undeniable spark between them.

And it was definitely not the beer.

XXXXX

"Share a cab?" Derek asked a little while later as they all got ready to go their separate ways. They always shared a cab home when they'd been drinking; Derek lived less than five minutes from her place so it made sense.

"Sure," she found herself saying against her better judgment. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in a vehicle with Derek Morgan right now. He'd sit too close, his thigh would probably brush up against hers and then she'd start panting with need. And of course he'd notice; Derek noticed everything. Dammitt.

XXXXX

She'd been wrong. He hadn't sat too close and his thigh hadn't accidentally brushed against hers. Not once during the ride had he touched her. It was probably for the best, Penelope thought as the taxi rolled to a stop in front of her building. It was already going to take her months to get over this one episode. She couldn't help but think about how pathetic she was. She pulled some cash out of her purse and gave it to Derek. "Good night," she said with a small smile as she reached for the door handle.

Derek flashed his perfect white grin at her and she stepped out of the cab and hurried for the front door. She was searching for her keys when she heard footsteps approaching. She turned around abruptly and sighed in relief when she saw that it was only Derek. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Instead of answering, he continued walking towards her; even in the moonlight she could see the predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Derek?" she asked breathlessly.

"Three days, Penelope," he ground out from between clenched teeth.

She gave him a puzzled look.

"I have been walking around hard as a fucking rock for three days. And do you know why?" he demanded.

She swallowed past the sudden lump of nervousness in her throat and shook her head, eyes wide.

He strolled up the steps and didn't stop until he was standing so close that her breasts were resting against his chest. "Because all I can think about is making what's right here…" His fingertips brushed the inside of her thigh and moved upwards in a light caress until the palm of his hand was resting between her thighs. Thank God for skirts. "Quiver."

It was then the panting with need began; Penelope couldn't say anything.

Derek moved his palm back and forth between her legs. "Are you gonna invite me in?"