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Losing Everything by kavileighanna



Solving Everything


They didn’t play things up at work. In fact, they generally avoided touching that would be considered inappropriate. Of course, ironically it was what tipped the team off more, but they weren’t about to spill what Morgan and Garcia considered a carefully guarded secret.

They’d always been close, and that much everyone was aware of. From day one, something between the two of them had clicked and Hotch, the only one around since the two met, had only watched the bond strengthen over time. Which was what made their drastic change in behaviour so obvious to those that were well acquainted with the multiple ways in which Garcia flirted.

But there was always a first time for everything, always that one time where things just didn’t go your way and the status quo shifted monumentally to accommodate such a drastic change. This case was that change, their hiding the status quo, and it was all shattered with one, small, piece of lead and one relentless piece of steel.

Really, it shouldn’t have surprised Morgan to see Garcia out of her lair, nor should it have surprised him to see her looking so worried, anxious and a little more than ticked. He’d been the one to throw himself on the unsub, a bullet just grazing his shoulder from one of the local PD guns and the unsub’s knife doing more damage to his jeans than his thigh and he should have known she would find out about it eventually.

The look he shot towards Reid and JJ made the latter wince and he knew immediately who had been the bug in Garcia’s ear on this one. It almost disturbed him more to see her standing, her fingers tapping against her arm from where they were crossed under her chest. He manoeuvred the chair so he could set his bag in it, meeting her gaze as relentlessly as she held his.

Tension was more than palpable and both Morgan and Garcia knew this was not a battle they wanted to have in the bullpen of the BAU, even if it was just the team, even if it was almost 1am and most of the agents had gone home. This was for them and them alone, and he knew once she was sure he was fine and once she’d made him feel supremely guilty for risking his life and throwing himself in front of guns and knives, everything would probably fall back to normal.

For now, however, they needed privacy.

Without a word she pushed by him, headed out of the bullpen. Morgan sighed, running a hand over his head as he tried to battle the exhaustion for just a few more minutes. He’d have to take another painkiller too, his shoulder was starting to burn again. But he wasn’t going home, any home, without solving things with his girl.

The trek to her office seemed so much further than usual as he forced his body to move with it’s usual flawless grace instead of slow and sluggish like he was feeling. She’d left her door open, and he could see her hunched over, head in her hands as her elbows rested on the arms of the chair. His hands automatically rested on her shoulders, feeling how tight they were.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t think.”

Garcia knew Morgan. They were friends, good friends and she worked with profilers enough to have a rudimentary knowledge of reading people. She knew Morgan was the hero type, the one most likely to throw themselves in front of a person to take a bullet, the one most likely to go into a potentially dangerous situation without thinking twice, the one who needed that kind of action in his job. It didn’t make her feel much better.

She remembered Annandale, she remembered the anti-technology bomber, she remembered almost every time he’d put himself in potential death situations and continued to thank every deity she could think of, religious or not, for each and every time he came out alive. It, of course, didn’t mean she couldn’t be royally pissed.

This time it was a double whammy. “You were almost shot and stabbed, what the hell were you thinking?”

The words were harsh enough to startle Morgan for a moment, forcing him to re-evaluate everything that was going on with the blond in front of him. She hadn’t shrugged his hands off, a first clue that she wasn’t actually going to kill him slowly and painfully. The anger was obvious, fear and anxiety fuelling it into the inferno that had forced her to snap at him.

“I wasn’t thinking about it, Pen,” he tried to explain. “I had a chance, an opening, and I took it. I promise there is no permanent damage.”

“But there could have been.” She cursed the tears that were audible in her voice. Her shooting had given her a whole new perspective on her life, a whole new way of thinking things through, of understanding what exactly life meant and had to mean. Her mantra ‘everything happens for a reason’ had grown a whole new connotation with that one little piece of lead.

That didn’t mean she threw herself into the thick of just any battle. The fact that her job didn’t put her in those types of situations like his did was secondary.

“Hey, don’t think like that. What if’s don’t matter. Everything happens for a reason, remember?” he said, his fingers starting to move slowly, back and forth over her shoulders.

“So you almost got shot and stabbed so you’d learn not to do it again?” she asked, a little bit of her cheek back.

He showed his appreciation for the levity with a chuckle. “I throw myself in the thick of danger all the time.”

Finally she spun to face him, her eyes boring into his. “And every time you take five years off of my life.”

Morgan sighed, it wasn’t as if he didn’t think of her reactions when he did things, it just happened to become second nature to save someone else’s life “ or take down an unsub, but they were arguably the same thing. “I’m here, Baby Girl, alive and kicking and in serious need of my girl, can that be enough?”

In reality, she wanted to ask for more. She wanted to ask him to never throw himself in front of an unsub again. She wanted to ask him to stay out of danger, maybe take a desk job, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think he would listen, or more importantly, that it was her place to demand such things. The FBI and his work was a big part of his life, a big part of his identity and she would never ask him to give that up. She loved him too much for that. For now, it would have to be enough.

So she did the only other thing she’d wanted to do since he strolled through the glass doors of the BAU bullpen: she launched herself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. He caught her effortlessly, not even stumbling back and allowed her a few moments before cupping her face and virtually devouring her.

The clearing of a throat cut the hungry kiss short.

Garcia buried her head in Morgan’s chest, grumbling and groaning incoherently. There was something in there about a very painful death, but he wasn’t about to ask her with their team standing in the doorway. Both of them looked amused.

“We wanted to make sure Morgan was okay,” Hotch began, an amused smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“And that Garcia didn’t need some wine and movies,” JJ added.

“But it looks like you’ve got everything under control,” Emily finished, her smug grin no where close to hidden.

Reid looked between all his teammates and Emily’s smug smile. “I have no idea why you’re so smug Emily. It’s the second and it’s after a traumatic event. I win the pool.”

The team laughed and handed over the money as Morgan and Garcia’s jaws dropped.

“What?” JJ asked with an innocent look. “It was so obvious.”

“You guys knew?” Garcia squeaked.

“Knew is a relative term,” Emily replied. “We had pretty strong suspicions. Let’s head out… I think drinks will be on Dr Reid tonight.”

Morgan sighed heavily as they left, Garcia still wrapped tightly in his arms. He almost jumped when her thumbs made it under his t-shirt, tracing the skin just above his waistband.

“I don’t think I want to join the team tonight. I’m really not feeling like going out on the town.” Her eyes were sparkling, her body pushing against his.

Morgan wasn’t blind, nor was he stupid. “We’ll call in a rain check,” he agreed, his head bending to kiss her.

“You’ve been away…” Garcia began, tilting her head back to accommodate Morgan’s mouth.

“And I’ve missed you…” Morgan added.

“And you’ve got a lot of apologizing to do…”

“Your place or mine?” he growled out against her throat.

“Mmm, don’t care.”

“Yours it is.” Then he leaned down to her ear. “First one to the car gets to be on top.”

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