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[ Standing toe to toe only opened Angela up to the inevitable. Derek quickly dipped his head and stole a kiss, bracing to be hit in the ribs or somewhere equally unpleasant. She could NOT be that close and expect otherwise. His hand did manage to lower and give her access to the ice cream. Consider the innuendo received, Angie. ]

You're not the only one capable of stealing things.

[ He quipped and slipped an arm around her waist as the ice cream sat in her reach. ]

It's not stealing if I let you have it.

[Good thing he braced for it because there go all five of her fingers on her right hand digging between his ribs. It's not so much a move that would take a man of his and strength down, but it's enough to let him know she's never going to be a pushover for him.

Clooney is not about not having any part of this so in his cold nose goes between their legs, trying to shove himself between them. Hey Derek, let go of his new found friend. She has food.]

[ And there went her ice cream right to the floor. Angela inadvertently discovered that Derek Morgan is quite ticklish when unsuspecting.

Clooney, of course, took advantage of the accident and nearly stuck his entire head into the open carton on the floor which elicited a German command from his owner. ]

Look what you did!

[ His reprimand to the woman in front of him was futile. There was no undoing her discovery or the grin on his lips. Strong arms tightened around Angela after quickly retrieving the carton of ice cream from off the floor. The carton was left on a nearby counter--the same surface he hoisted Angie onto in one quick move. ]

If I can't have one dessert, I'll have another.

[ Sounds of huffing in protest could be heard from the rottweiler just outside the kitchen area. ]

[Well, would you look at that. Angela never thought she'd be able to find his weak spot so quickly, but now that she knows that he's as ticklish as ever, Derek is so screwed.]

I did nothing! You were the one holding it hostage!

[She's nowhere as mad as she sounds and the fact that she can barely get the words out of her mouth without losing herself to giggles makes that oh so obvious. Lucky for him, her laughter is cut short by a loud yelp as she's suddenly finding the ground under her feet missing and that gets him rewarded with a tap of her finger on his nose like he's the bad dog here.]

No. Because you ruined my ice cream and now there's doggie backwash in it.

[ Not so fast, Angela. She found his weak spot because he wasn't expecting to be tickled. Now that she was exposed, Derek would put up defenses whenever possible. Key words being 'when possible'. Undoubtedly she'd catch him off guard with how they spent time together. ]

No? [ He had to confirm that she was really denying him from going down on her. Derek didn't look the slightest bit disappointed, just a little confused. He gave a nonchalant shrug and moved from in front of Angie. ] I've got an extra flashlight. You can borrow that.

[ Derek fished through a nearby kitchen drawer and pulled out a small LED light. He set it on the counter not far from her reach then set to cleaning up what was left on the floor. ]

I'm sure the stores have ice cream on sale. I'll buy you a new one. It'll come out of someone's treat money. [ He gave an accusing look toward the dog laying down in just outside the kitchen area. ]

[She shakes her head, but then soothes whatever ruffled feathers Derek's penis may have with a soft kiss to his forehead. Far be it from her to say he's an awful lay and she wouldn't like to continue exploring his body a second time around, but tonight, Angela is strangely not in the mood. No reason, nothing happened, Derek did nothing wrong. Just Miss Montenegro and her wayward whims. Check back in an hour or so, it just might be different.

Glancing at the light for a moment, Angela shakes her head again, this time with a laugh.]

I didn't come here for a flashlight, Derek.

[She came for company. Sitting in the dark with someone interesting sure beats sitting in the dark by herself. Plus he has a dog. And speaking of the dog, Angela pokes Derek in the ribs again with the toe of her flats.]

Hey, don't take it out on Clooney! You're the one who was holding it. He's innocent and I'm a witness to it!

[ The kiss was welcome, even if it was to his forehead. He couldn't get enough of her lips. Both sets. Yet he didn't begrudge her denial of getting a taste from either. However, her reaction to the offer of a flashlight confused him further. He quickly blocked her reach for his ribs, managing not to make harsh contact but simply sweep her foot away rather than get tickled again. ]

Of course you are. Conspirators. Both of you.

[ The accusations were said through a poorly hidden grin. Derek met her gaze with his bottom lip between his teeth. His expression showed that an idea came to him. ]

Wanna ride on the back of my bike to the store or would you rather stay with your new partner in crime?

Oh, stop whining. We all know you deserve it.

[That worrying of his lip will be the death of her one day. ANgela doesn't know it yet nor is she even thinking about it, but much like her fingers in his ribs, it'll catch her off guard.]

Only if I get to wrap my legs around you.

[She may not want sex, but that's never going to stop her from throwing out some innuendo.]

Is that really in question?

[ He walked right into the danger zone to get her off the counter. One strong arm did the trick. He reached with the hand from that arm to take Angela by the hand and lead her out of his place, grabbing keys on the way with his other hand. German was spoken to Clooney who begrudgingly did as he was commanded. ]

Might let you drive. [ The statement was made rather devilishly. ]

[Look, all this carrying her around like she is a sack of potatoes needs to stop... never. Every time she shrieks it's only because she enjoys this little game and likes giving up some control to him every once in a while. Besides, if he ever tosses her over his shoulder, she's so touching his ass.]

Good thing I know how to drive stick.

[Really, Angela needs to stop. Like right now before she gets him all worked up with nowhere to go.]

Derek, what's with the German?

[ It seemed he'd constantly worry his lower lip around her. Derek grinned and lightly smacked her ass at the quip about driving stick. ]

Why doesn't that surprise me in the least?

[ His fiendish grin simmered at the question as they finally made it out the door. ]

Just something I learned from a K9 handler. Teaching commands in either German or Russian makes it harder for just anyone to direct the dog.

[ The answer was given nonchalant while he wondered what Angie might ask next. He was dangerously close to being asked on his life before Eudio. Derek decided to return to their banter in hopes of a distraction. ]

I know how you like things hard, Baby.

[This time when she shrieks, they're already out on the sidewalk and a nice older looking lady turns to look Angela's way, shaking her head and muttering about keeping thee neighborhood nice. Thanks a lot, Derek. All she needed tonight was some grandma who probably smells like chocolate chip cookies and the peppermints at the bottom of her purse judging her for being loud.]

K9 handler? A cop?

[What she's really asking him is if he's a cop. Most people would have said dog trainer, but in Angela's experience, it's usually some form of law enforcement that uses the term Derek used. The wheels are turning and up starts her curiosity, causing her to completely ignore his innuendo.]

[ Get over it, Granny. This was Cuddle City after all. He might not have said as much but Derek didn't tone down his fiendish grin in the slightest.

Until Angie asked her questions. ]

Yeah, he was a cop.

[ Redirecting didn't work so he would try answering casually. Derek had a mean poker face sometimes, especially if emotions weren't involved. He was close to legendary at work. His swagger didn't skip a beat on the walk to his motorcycle. Two hard cased saddlebags were mounted to which he unlocked one then the other, removing one helmet then another and passing her one before grabbing the other. ]

Actually, I was asking if you were a cop, but I guess that's a no.

[Casual works for her because she doesn't see any hint of him avoiding the turn in the conversation, something that would set off her suspicion radar. However, that may backfire on him because as she flips the helmet over in preparation to get it on, Angela starts asking another thing.]

What do you do for a living anyway?

[ He was a cop once upon a time. In Chicago before becoming a Fed. But answering one question would just bring the next so he didn't correct Angie. Instead, he put his helmet on then waited to see if she needed help with hers.

Damn. She asked. Then again... ]

I've been working security two nights a week. One's a club and the other a bar. I'm thinking about offering handyman services since I have a background with reno-ing properties. What are you up to here?

[ Focus on her would hopefully redirect the conversation. Casual look as ever. Nothing to see here. ]

Nothing really. I'm trying to decide if I should stick with what I usually do or go back to my fresh out of college roots and try some temp gigs. Honestly, it depends on how long I feel like staying here, really.

[Now she's not avoiding giving him details of her own life at all. Angela has nothing to hide. Sure, the job's morbid and gross and she'd rather not think about it at all, but it's a job. It pays and she gets to help people. No shame in that.

Helmet on, she swings a leg over the bike and slides back so he has enough room to get on too.]

What about at home?

[If he keeps dancing around the questions, Angela will eventually cotton on and drag his ass out on the street.]

Wait, what do you usually do? That bad where you wanna turn back time and go back to college days?

[ You bet he went for that redirect. It was fair conversation. He was starting to regret that his helmets had comms in them. Derek also gave her a look when she slid back instead of taking the helm on his bike. He'd been holding it upright by the handle bar, removing the kickstand for her rather than trying to do it from behind. ]

Thought you wanted to drive?

Forensic facial reconstruction.

['Nuff said, really. The fact she can hear him loud and clear in the helmet isn't lost on her. Nice tech there, Mr. So-Called Handyman. That's not something Angela sees everyday.

And him offering her the chance to drive his baby certainly isn't one either. The dark plastic eyeshield is down in front of her face, but the screwed up facial expression Angela is making at him is probably as clear as day.]

And kill us both? How about no?

[ It took effort for his head not to snap toward her direction at her answer. However, there was no hiding how he swallowed. One brow arched in question which she had to believe was natural. Nothing about her had given off a vibe that stated she worked with law enforcement. There weren't many industries outside it requiring her profession. ]

So you work with law enforcement.

[ Statement, not a question. His visor came down, key went into the ignition, and he carefully slipped a leg over to take the helm. ]

Thought you said before you'd drive. My bad.

[ Derek turned over the ignition and started the bike. ]

What were your college days? I'm curious.

[ More like, what to discuss so he can avoid being asked questions. Not entirely though. He did find himself interested in the beauty he'd been banging. There was more than met the eye. ]

Yeah, the FBI. What? Is that a problem?

[The fact that he's looking at her like that throws Angela off a little. Of course she works with law enforcement. Who else needs a sketch artist to draw dead people? A funeral home? Does he have something to hide? A criminal past? Well, he can keep it. Angela ain't arresting anybody and nobody but the Eudio cops have any jurisdiction to nab a wanted person here anyway.]

No, I'm much happier watch people race motorcycles than driving them. [With the bike engine running, Angela instinctively raises her voice over it, forgetting the helmet has a comm in it.] I went to art school. It was exactly as you are imagining it.

[Lots of booze, lots of drugs, lots of parties with some studying and drawing thrown in for good measure.]

[ The wheels were churning hard and fast. Angela...Angela... Facial reconstruction... Could she be? Damn. Where was Garcia when he needed her? Baby Girl would just admonish him for having played a game for as long as he had before giving up any knowledge of the forensics specialist. He had to fish for a last name to be sure. For now, he tried to play along. ]

No problem. It's not like the Bureau has any pull here. I just never imagined a Fed could be so sexy.

[ He pulled away from the parked space and headed into the city. Continuing to respond to what she had said. ]

Now, see art school? That I can see. But then I guess the talent there brought you to the FBI. Any paintings of the stuffy agents naked?

[ The last was a tease intended to distract her even further. She could probably hear the mischievous grin on his lips in his words. That was his aim. He took the scenic route in an effort to mislead with the notion that he had nothing to hide and they had all the time in the world. ]

Edited 2015-09-07 16:54 (UTC)

Maybe it's because I'm not a Fed. I just work with them. And no. No paintings of them.

[They actually do have all the time in the world, or at least Angela does. There's nothing for her at her place and even less at his except for a sad container of melted ice cream in his trashcan. Taking the scenic route only means that Angela has more time and more opportunity to poke at getting to know him. She's already told him enough about her.]

You never answered my question. What did you do at home?

[She doesn't sound too hard up for the answer, but she will be soon if he keeps avoiding giving her direct responses to direct questions.]

You sure you're not a Fed? You kind of interrogate like one.

[ There was humor in his inflection. Derek let a beat pass then continued. ]

I work out of the DC area. And I've got three rentals I currently manage. I like flipping properties, mostly renovating and reviving run down places to give people not so well off a chance at living in something nice. My mom never had that chance.

[ Derek gave the bike some throttle but the noise canceling portion of the helmet comms kicked in and kept the volume between them the same. She was right to think the helmets weren't basic. Hers was the cheaper of the two and cost over five hundred. The motorcycle itself might not have been new but it wasn't cheap either. If she remembered the suit he wore the first time they met, it was another sign that he did well for himself. ]

And maybe... I know a little somethin' about your work.

[ Why he felt compelled to give Angela that tidbit, he couldn't figure out other than the feeling she'd find him out sooner than later. His voice turned serious. ]

I think we've crossed paths before. Your last name's with an M, right?

[ If his vague memory served, she was the equivalent of a good friend he worked with and would find him out the more secretive he tried remaining. Angela would have the technical skill to do so. Maybe not at Garcia's level but close. Derek was slowly coming to terms with the possible end of the good thing they had going. She hadn't exactly sounded thrilled at working with agents. ]

[Those are all things Angela noticed, but said nothing about. Actually, she didn't care that first night because she was convinced she'd never see Derek again only to be surprised she's been seeing him a lot more since then. Still, she's no golddigger and she's a woman who cares about her own wallet so whatever he wore and drove was his business.

What's not his business is the fact that he's correctly guessing her last initial. Angela knows for a fact she didn't tell him her full name and neither did he tell her his. The only way he could possibly know that is if he snooped through her stuff... or he's from her world and knows her via the few times her name has popped up in the media.

That's more troubling to her that the idea of him digging through her purse for so many reasons that Angela can't begin to list. Once a serial killer sends you body organs in the mail, one gets to be a little paranoid every now and then.]

Stop the bike.

[Her tone is no nonsense and if Derek tries to make humor out of it, she'll bang on his helmet so hard he'll get brain damage.]

[ Apparently he assumed all wrong. She wanted nothing to do with a reminder from home. Derek loosened the throttled and pulled off to the side. ]

Look...if it makes any difference, I was trying to keep my life before here to myself. It's one thing to be an FBI agent, another to be a profiler. I didn't wanna spend nights out talking about chasing monsters which I can't even talk in detail about...

[ He felt her stiff behind him when she demanded he stop his bike. If she didn't want to sleep with him anymore, Derek could deal with that more than to have alienated someone he enjoyed spending time with. Learning she somewhat shared his profession also made Angie someone who'd understand when he'd have a nightmare or look distant from the memory of a case. ]

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